#<- tag based on working title for this idea

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[notquitecanon]

IRL Plug and Play || Poly!141 x Fem!Reader

Summary: Third part of my Search History series (based on Penelope Garcia from Criminal minds) , the dinner party. The culmination of a month of knowing the boy's browser histories. Not much of a summary, it's pretty much dirty from start to finish.

18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Warning: Fem pronouns and genitals, alcohol consumption, alcohol used during sex, porn, emulating porn, group sex, unprotected sex, tagging dub con just to be on the safe side but not really if you read the other parts you get it, Oral (M & F recieiving), fingering, penetration (F receiving) , allusions to penetration (male recieving), inappropriate use of cigar ashes. Genuinely this is just me being gross about these men for almost 12,000 words, proceed with caution. Say it with me one more time- irl this would be workplace harassment and NOT sexy. However, these are fictional war criminals who ARE sexy so we’re forgiving it. 

Original Idea First Prev My Masterlist

made a lil header for the first time these are the vibes of reader and 141 :) (not Penelope's psychical description just her vibes)

pssst see how they're all on their mics in the pics?? its cuz your the voice in their ears :)

When you pulled into a parking spot on John Price’s street thirty minutes early, you automatically feel squirmy and a little foolish. Foolish because you’d convinced yourself that you were reading too much into things. So much so, that, somehow, the boys seeking out your porn twin had circled back around to you feeling like the unprofessional one. Squirming because you’d found the video they’d all watched more than once (more than three times) in the last days of their assignment. Barrack’s Bunny Get’s Gang Banged! 

 (Of course it was a military inspired orgy video, with four men and one woman that looked almost identical to you. Because, JFC, why wouldn’t it be? Was this actress in on the torment? Was she taking requests or was this some sort of cosmic joke where the punchline was your own sexual frustration?)  

Ok, how the hell were you not supposed to read into that? 

You hadn’t been able to watch it all the way through yet, having to pause and take breaks to calm yourself down. The thumbnail alone of your doppelgänger with four sets of hands and… other extremities... was enough to tempt you put your car back in drive and go back home. Because you weren’t sure you could look any of them in the eyes, and also for the third time in the last hour, you were second guessing your outfit. 

Because what the hell does one wear to the porn-party with their boss and superiors? (Ok, maybe you should start by stop calling it the ‘porn-party’, because outside of your own finding in their browser histories, they’d yet to mention any actual porn to you in real life, but what else were you supposed to call this?)

After leaving work, you’d spent a long time debating if you needed to change and, if so, into what, and would it be delusional to put on a matching set? Johnny did say he liked seeing something soft… And were your work clothes too stiff? Was the skirt too presumptuous after that video Kyle liked titled Easy Access ? And was it just you or did your work blouse look slightly too much like the one from the office-scene Price had bookmarked? And why the hell was this all you could think about? Strewing your clothes around your bedroom like a teenager before a party, different combinations and options littering your bed and dresser until you got frustrated with yourself and your closet. With a what the hell moment of ambivalence, you’d settled on something comfortable, but switched into a lacy bralette, lying to yourself that it was more comfortable than the one you’d worn to work, and if the lacy strap happened to coquettishly accent your shoulder when your sweater sleeve slipped down your arm? Well, if it wasn’t a Porn Party, then no one would notice, and if it was, well it’d be sure to draw some appreciative eyes. 

Your car was still cranked as you sat slightly down the block from Price’s house in your casual sweater and hidden matching set, anxiously killing time by alternating between tik tok, instagram, tumblr, and oh yes,  the Barracks Bunny Gets Gang Banged video that you’d been working through thirty seconds at a time because any longer had your overheating and threatening to leave a snail trail on your upholstery. So enthralled and flustered, you’d barely thought of the fact you were quietly playing porn over your car’s bluetooth system, you’d made it to the official halfway mark, and each time you’d switched out to a different app, the ‘break’ was short lived as you went back for more, one hand white knuckling your steering wheel as if this was a particularly good movie with a plot twist you just couldn’t miss. 

So enthralled, that a sudden knocking on your window startled you so bad that you half-tossed-half-dropped your phone with a sound that could only be described as a ’squawk’  as you slammed the mute button to your car’s stereo. It was as you were turning towards the knocker, that you realized you could 100% catch a public indecency charge for this, and somehow were still only half relieved to find Johnny leaning slightly down so he could meet your gaze through your driver-side window. He had his raincoat on, and a lit cigarette pinched between his thumb and pointer as he looked in on you with a cheeky smile and raised brows. When you just stared up at him like a deer in headlights, mentally trying to figure out just how long he’d been there and if from that angle he could’ve seen your screen and how good was the sound proofing on your car…. As you ran those mental calculations, Johnny simply knocked again and this time added a downwards motion with his cigarette, requesting you to roll down the window. 

You’d never noticed how slow your windows descended as the two of you held eye contact (awkward on your side, delighted on his), until there was no longer a pane of glass between you. The cool, damp night breeze carried the scent of tobacco and some kind of Old Spice fragrance into your little car as you looked up at the Scotsman. He seem amused, but happy to see you, "Coming?" 

Your brain short circuited for a moment. Were you… cumming? You stared at him wide eyed, convinced you’d misheard him. 

"What?" Was all you managed to respond with, your brain still trying to scrub filthy, lewd images from between its lobes, like a community service volunteer cleaning graffiti off subway walls. Johnny’s eyebrows only raised higher with his signature, Can’t wait to tell Ghost about this look, as he took another deep puff of his cig. 

"Are ye coming inside, hen?" He clarified slowly with that shit eating grin after blowing his smoke away form you- what a gentleman, "Or are’ye planning to sit out here all night?" 

"Oh, right." You mumbled, resisting the urge to scrub your hands across your face to physically redirect your thoughts. Instead, you nodded and started gathering your things, "Yeah, yeah, I’m coming inside." 

"Good, Si was getting impatient." Johnny grinned, stepping back so you could open your car door after you fished your phone from the passenger floorboards and cut the engine. Si? You hadn’t head that nickname for Ghost before, hell, you still excusively called him Ghost to his face, because you’d not received permission for anything else. Simon was personal, Si… was intimate...  He watched you expectantly, snapping you out of your thoughts, and when you only responded in silent confusion, he reached inside the still open vehicle and tapped the buttons, "Window, bonnie, s'raining." 

Cheeks heating in mild embarrassment, you quickly cut the battery back on so you roll up the window and then get out. You’d always been a little scatter-brained, prone to being in your own little world, but this was getting excessive. Maybe all the porn really was melting your brain… With the windows up and double checking the car was off, you finally got out of the car. Johnny immediately took the plate of brownies out of your hand in the guise of gentlemanly conduct, but actually snuck one from under the plastic wrap before you could scold him.  

"Why so grim? Y’look like yer marching off to war." Johnny seemed pretty pleased with his own little joke, his free arm resting in the small of your back to guide you up Price’s porch step and into the house like you might run off down the street without his guidance. You were considering it anyways. 

"I don’t look grim." You shot him a look but didn’t shake off his arm, nor could you prevent the smile that was fighting at the corners of your mouth, snatching the brownies back from him before he could snag another, happy to have something to fidget with as you smoothed the plastic wrap back into place. 

"No, you most definitely do not." And there was the other sergeant, Kyle, holding the door open for the two of you. Smiling as charmingly as ever, Kyle was already taking the dish out of your hands only to hand the dessert back to Johnny to carry off somewhere else. Then, he was on you, "Glad you could make it, love. Don’t listen to Soap, you look beautiful.” “Hey! Dinnae say she couldn’t be grim and beautiful.” Soap called back, already on his way deeper into the house. 

"Such a shameless flirt." You scoffed just loud enough to drown out Johnny with your own teasing smile, a more usual routine amongst all the overthinking you’d been doing, as Gaz helped you out of your coat. Maybe you were imagining the sensuality, but you were not imagining how his touch lingered, and how his fingers grazed the fabric of your sweater as it was exposed. Hell, he was basically unwrapping your raincoat like it was the gift wrap on a present, "Don’t look half bad yourself, though." 

All the boys looked good in their civilian clothes, hell they’d all look good in anything (or nothing… Focus. Focus.). But Kyle? In his stylish and tailored clothes? He always looked he’d walked off a J. Crew magazine cover when he wasn’t on base. His burgundy sweater looked like something you wanted to rub your cheek against, soft and warm and it fit him like a glove. Gaz grinned at your little praise, not speeding up his maddeningly slow pace of peeling off your raincoat and adjusting your hair for you afterwards, which distracted you just enough that you didn’t notice the others watching his little show. One of his lingering fingers seemed to all together abandon it’s mission, instead tracing the arced lace strap of your (meticulously chosen) lace bralette strap that had fallen off your shoulder. You watched Kyle’s finger follow the flowery lace pattern for a moment before fixing back on your shoulder with an audible snap! that made you jump a little from the sting. 

This time you did see Johnny’s amused grin and slightly devious eyes as your own went wide and you let out a little yelp, snapping your eyes over your soldier at the sergeant. Gaz was quick to soothe the ouch, humming at you before you could get disgruntled while his warm palm cupped the curve of your shoulder and rubbed the slightly stinging skin softly. And if you were still reading into things (you were) you could swear it was just for him to have a reason to touch you more.

"Sorry, love, had to fix it, was bothering me." Was the only explanation offered for his actions. Once your jacket was off, Gaz hung it on the foyer hooks, it looking comically small and feminine between all four of theirs. You knew your brain was melted from all the porn when the visual immediately reminded you of the stupid video’s thumbnail picuture… the pretty, feminine actress with four huge actors surrounding her… Fortunately, Kyle tugging you further into the house pulled you out of your dirty-thought spiral. 

In the kitchen, John Price was waiting, marinating a platter of steaks. You couldn’t help the amused quirk of a smile at seeing the apron tied over his civilian clothes, an unlit cigar in the chest pocket for easy access. The captain smiled first to Gaz with an approving nod, and then to you with a teasing smirk, "Thought you’d sit out in your car all night." 

"I’m early." You defended yourself, cheeks now must be permanently stained into a flush with how easily they managed to fluster you. Gaz parked himself right beside you, leaning on the counter but standing so close that his shoulder was slotted slightly behind you, half his chest pressed to your back, distractingly proving your early guess that his sweater was, in fact, very soft.  It took the steam out of your vehement defense, "You said, eight. It’s 7:50." 

"Yeah, but you’ve been sitting out there since 7:30, love." Kyle chided. You wondered if it was the whiskey he was sipping that gave him the courage to puncuate his teasings with a slight pinch to your hip that made you squirm. His closeness kept you from slipping away as he shifted his attention to his captain, that easy going smile still on his face, "She brought brownies." 

"I know. Johnny’s already had two." Price smiled, slathering another steak with marinade and massaging it into the meat with tender but deliberate ministrations of his long fingers that, for a moment, made you jealous of a dead slab of beef. His eyes caught yours staring at his hands, chuckling as he cleared his throat, "We had something else in mind for dessert. Very sweet of you though." 

Something Price said made Kyle chuckle like it was some kind of inside joke, his fingers still on your hip, tracing little circles that were almost as distracting as… whatever the hell it was that Price was doing to the steaks. 

"Now, go off and relax. I’m about to cut onions and we don’t want to mess up that pretty make up." Price ordered, shooing you off towards his stocked bar cart, before adding quietly enough you thought you might have hallucinated it, "Not yet, anyways." 

__

Later, after you’d been supplied a drink and deposited on the couch with Ghost to watch what you were pretty sure was a rugby match (you were a little distracted by his warm arm draped over your shoulder, fingers tracing the same floral lace Gaz had). 

"Gonna have to make some more room, love." Kyle grinned, looking down at you, holding his drink in one hand and one of your brownies in the other. You looked around yourself, already sandwhiched between the armrest of the sofa and Ghost who hadn’t closed his legs even a fraction when Johnny’d led you to the couch originally. Wasn’t much room to make room with. 

"Oh, I can just-" you started, standing carefully as to not spill the drink Kyle had made for you. Before you could step away to claim the plush arm chair by the mantle (a safe distance from Simon’s thigh against yours and Kyle’s lingering touches), a strong arm wrapped around your middle and tugged you right back down. Instead of your original seat, however, it was Ghost who had pulled you side saddle into his lap, his other hand steadying the drink in yours. Gaz chuckled, taking the spot you had been sitting in, both men unbothered by your startled yelp. 

Despite the fact that Simon had forecully and silently pulled you onto his lap, when you gave him a bewildered look, he seemed not to even notice the fact you were sitting on him, his amber eyes focused on the fame playing even as his finger’s kneaded distracting little circles into the plushest part of your waist, his arm still wrapped around you like you might try and escape. And when you just blinked at him, his only offering was, "Tha’s Price’s chair." 

"Ye look comfy." Soap chided as he came around the corner with a beer and a lo-ball glass of some sort of whiskey, beer for himself and the (presumably) bourbon was given to Simon, both however, were offered to Simon, "Crack that for me, Si?" 

You watched, wide eyed and enamored, as he lifted his mask over his nose and used his teeth to crack the bottle open before taking a long swig and then handing it back to Johnny in exchange for the whiskey. You had a front row seat to the bob of his Adam’s apple, and the way a scar split the top corner of his lip vertically (you wondered if you would feel the scar if he was kissing you, focus, damnit, focus). Soap noticed your expression and the blush in your cheeks with a twinkle in his eyes, " ’s not nice to stare, bonnie." 

You stared a moment longer before forefully shaking yourself out of the stupor and taking a swig of your own drink, thankfully ice cold. The momentary pause allowed you to dip back into your usual well of sarcastic wit, offering the Scot a raised eyebrow, "You’re just jealous I’m not staring at you." 

Johnny only shrugged, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa, making his broad chest only seem broader, his grin showing just enough teeth to appear wolfish as his thigh pressed into Ghost’s and therefore the round of your ass, "Aye, maybe I am."  

"Ignore him, he’s been watching too much…" Simon started swirling then sipping his bourbon before tugging his mask down again afterwards. You knew the answer to his trail off and your internal body temp went up five degrees, alarm bells ringing in your brain. Johnny elbowed the taller man, so Simon only shrugged and finished lamely with, "stuff." 

Porn. He’s been watching a lot of porn. You all have.  I know that. You know that. We all know that. You brain chanting in time with those stupid circles he was rubbing on your hip as Johnny took the liberty of adjusting the hair off your shoulder, his voice a challenging chide,  "What’s that look for, bonnie? What’d you think he was gonna say?" 

Your mouth opened, and then closed, and you were saved from answering by Price coming into the living room, declaring the steaks were marinating so they had a while to just hang out. He gave Kyle a shoulder squeeze in passing, and offered you a warm smile before settling in his chair by the mantle. The chair you’d tried to escape to earlier. 

For a get-together planned around watching the game, it occurred to you that not a single eye was on the TV at the moment. Instead, you realized they were all on… you. Price in his chair, smoothing his beard. Simon still had you on his lap, amber eyes carefully scrutinizing your expression as you flicked your eyes over to Gaz, who was watching you- or rather the rise and fall of your chest as he pulled your legs into his lap- with a slightly cocked head, a small smile on his lips. And finally, Johnny, who’d not stopped fidgeting with your hair and the neckline of your sweater. 

Once again, you were uncharacteristically at a loss for words, squirming a bit on Simon’s lap as you tried to figure out what to say or if to say anything at all, because all that was coming to mind right now were two options. Are y’all trying to fuck me? and How’s the weather?. Both options made you want to crawl in a hole and stay there. 

"You’re quiet tonight, sweet, something on your mind?" Price raised his eyebrows, still smirking, knuckles tapping against the armrest, "Something you wanted to tell the boys, right? What we talked about in my office?" 

How were you supposed to broach the topic of their internet history, essentially admit to knowing about your XXX twin, while sitting on your superior's lap, having your hair played with, and your calves massaged through your leggings… 

"No, no. Just… enjoying my drink." You muttered, draining the rest of the beverage before leaning over to place the empty glass on the side table, which was a mistake because it just had you practically sprawled over the three men on the couch, "What game are we supposed to be watching tonight?" 

"Never mind that, hen." Johnny shrugged, clicking the TV off before tossing the remote to Price, "We’ve been into a… different form of entertainment lately." 

Yeah. I know. The problem is that I know. You thought to yourself, now not even able to pretend to watch the screen, forced to focus on all the hands and eyes on you. 

"Let’s stop dancing around it." Simon gruffed, resting his head against the back of the couch, his fingers trailing from your hip to the top of your thigh, "She’s not daft." 

"Lieutenant Riley, always the subtle one." Gaz rolled his eyes before sliding his eyes over to Price who gave him an affirmative nod, not unlike they would do in the field, and then his eyes were back on you, "So, we know you aren’t blind, love, sure you noticed something going on here." 

You weren’t sure if he was talking about what you’d dubbed the porn party or if he was just talking about the general bond between the men that went deeper than just elite squad, so you just nodded, hoping he would proceed with some more context clues… any keep rubbing his thumbs around your calf. It was not helping you focus. Kyle just grinned, his hands gently roaming up your shins to your knees and then back down, "Well, we’ve noticed something, too, love. You." 

"Me?" You parroted, half sincere half forced faux shock, that sent you further back into Johnny’s chest, the Scot who was still fiddling with your hair had also pressed his nose into the crown of your hair to smell whatever products you used. "Don’t sound so surprised, bonnie." He murmured into your hair before leaning past you to Simon, planting an open-mouthed, 

wet kiss against the larger man’s mask right beside your own face. Your mouth dried out despite just finishing your drink, tongue seeming too big for your mouth, eyes flicking rapidly between them and Gaz. You were beyond flustered, your stomach twisting in a both nerve wracking and enticing way. You didn’t know where to look, or if you should look, or look away. You didn’t want to look away, seeing Soap’s tongue find Simon’s mouth even through the cotton. Did they want the illusion of privacy and if so, how were you supposed to give them that when Simon was half groping you at the same time Johnny was lapping at his tongue 

through the balaclava? Johnny slid his eyes to you, barely breaking from Ghost, "S’alright, hen, don’t mind you watching us. After all, s’only fair." 

Your eyes widened, owlishly turning to Gaz though Simon kept you from slipping off his lap. Was that them telling you that they knew you knew? Was this some confession about finding your doppelgänger and watching enough of her content to pay off her car? He rolled his eyes at the other sergeant, his easy going smile returning when his eyes came back to you. 

"They’re so impatient." He chuckled with a what can you do shrug, as if they’d simply skipped to dessert (innuendo intended) instead of started sloppily making out with you in their lap. He quit massaging at your calves, instead using his middle and pointer fingers to trace patterns (you could swear it was a mimic of the lace pattern he’d traced earlier). Your eyes flicked over to Price, who was still just watching, leaned back in his chair, jutting his chin back to Gaz as if telling you to pay attention. Sheepishly, you turned back to Kyle, "So, we’ve… discovered this person online, and she looks… so much like you. Genuinely, love, it’s uncanny. And there’s this video she made that really caught our attention-" 

"She knows the one." "Aye, She’s seen it." 

Both Price and Johnny answered at the same time. Price, because you’d brought up the issue to him in his office. And Johnny… had apparently been standing outside your car longer than you thought and could see your screen. Your cheeks had to be glowing by now. Kyle’s smile just grew, flashing perfect white teeth at you as he leaned in closer, "Perfect, then we can skip that explanation. But once we saw it… well, it kind of got under our skin. You’ve gotten under our skin, love."  

Johnny and Simon hadn’t stopped though they had shifted and suddenly there lips were back and forth on each other, and also over your neck and shoulders as you tried fervently to keep your eyes on Gaz as he leaned closer, pulling the sleeve of your sweater off your shoulder to expose that lace strap again, "And, judging by how you’ve been acting lately, we’ve gotten under yours too." 

"Yeah. Yeah. That’s one way to put it." You admitted in a released breath, eyes flicked down to Simon who’d been kissing and sucking right at the curve of your shoulder for several long seconds, like if he wasn’t already under your skin, he’d supplant himself there personally. Johnny wasn’t going under your clothes, but his hands were tracing the line of your spine, finding the waistband of your leggings, nosing into your hair so he could kiss the shell of your ear. All while Kyle just kept that pretty grin on you, somehow putting you at ease and twisting your nerves even more. 

"And, truthfully, we could sit here talking about it all night, Or…"  And Kyle Garrick, with that unfairly, stupidly charming smile of his, made a veritable orgy sound as commonplace and sensible as going to the pub afterwork, and you found yourself dumbly nodding along to his easy words before you anxieties, logical and/or otherwise, could convince you that group sex with your coworkers was probably not the most professional way to spend a Friday night. But, damn, the sparkle in those pretty hazel-brown eyes was doing a good job of easing any worries that charming smile had missed… 

Price finally spoke up again, but stayed in his chair, "You're nodding, sweet, but we gotta hear it. Out loud. Do you want this?" 

When you looked over again, John Price was looking wholly the Captain he was. If you thought he was making a point to manspread in his office earlier in the day, now… Now he was just showing off. He looked like he was posing on a throne, legs spread, elbows resting on the arms of the chair as he settled in, watching the three soldiers and you on the couch.  Seemingly completely nonplussed by his subordinate employees’ heavy petting on his couch. 

Your internal reflection was swift. You were already getting felt up. If going into the office was going to be awkward on Monday, it was going to be awkward regardless of whether or not you cut it off at groping. You might as well let them relieve the nagging itch in the back of your mind while you were at it. So after another dumb nod, you found your voice again, "Yes. Yes. I want it. Please." 

"So polite." Johnny murmured, taking you verbal confirmation as permission to slip his hands underneath your clothes, mapping your bare skin, "And you’ll say something if it’s too much?" 

"Yeah, yeah." You nodded fervently, turning your head to try and catch one of their lips, the sweater had been stifling for the past hour, but now it was itching at your feverish skin. Johnny just smiled, helping you out of the thing. 

"Good girl." Simon nodded before his amber eyes lit up a bit, "Well, would you look at tha’." 

His fingers dipped under the lacy band of the bralette you were wearing. Johnny had already run his hands over the fabric while Kyle just whistled lowly. Price was the one who spoke up about it, "Did you put that on just for us, sweet?" 

"Just in… just in case." You nodded in a breath, leaning back into Johnny as he started rolling your leggings down, exposing the complimentary lace waistband of your panties. Another round of appreciative comments and touches, Simon’s teeth nipping at the curve of your neck again. 

"Too good to us, love." Gaz shook his head, helping his fellow sergeant get your leggings all the way off and tossing them somewhere out of sight, pressing kisses to the top of your thighs, then your knees, and finally one too the inside of your ankle. " So you suspected all along. How’d you see the video?" 

"Go on, sweet, fill him in." Price prompted with that stupid little smirk, the one that tugged the corners of his beard up. The one that made you want to get on your knees and do anything to earn one of those approving nods. 

"I-I can see the websites y’all visit." You admitted breathlessly, watching as Kyle kissed his way back up your legs, how those eyes never broke contact with yours, "I have to clear them for security purposes. I’ve.. I’ve seen all the videos y’all’ve been sharing with each other." “

All of them. So 

that’s why you’ve been so quiet, bonnie?" Johnny hummed, a smile pressed into the base of your neck, watching Simon nip at your neck, teeth digging in harder every time, making you whimper which seemed to only egg Ghost on. 

"Flattered or offended?" Kyle asked, but his smile told you he already knew the answer. Because, with you sprawled over the laps of three men, if you were offended you had a funny way of showing it. 

"I should’ve been." You gulped after breaking off Johnny’s lips for a moment, adding on, "Offended."

"But you’re not?" Price prompted, head cocking to the side as he fiddled with lighting his cigar. 

No. For better or for worse, this roundabout workplace harassment approach had really worked on you. So you just shook your head, opening your mouth as Simon pulled his mask up and caught your lips, tongue domineering itself into your mouth almost instantly. 

"So cooperative, nice change of pace." One of them hummed, but you couldn’t place it, too focussed on the fingers kneading at your inner thighs, slowly working your legs open into a spread so your knee’s were hooked over each side of Simon’s wide spread legs, which exposed the dampened gusset of the deliberately chosen panties. 

"All right, deal’s a deal, Garrick," Simon all but growled into your mouth, your eyes fluttering open to see his amber eyes watching Kyle who was smirking like he’d just gotten away with something, "You get first taste. Warm ‘er up for us." 

Oh. Oh. Just diving right in. Though Gaz was ever the gentleman, charming through and through. 

"May I?" He asked softly, waiting with his fingers hooked in the lacy waistband as he sunk to his knees in front of you. Your breath picked up just from the sight, and it was only Simon holding you to him that kept you from leaning down and catching a kiss from Kyle as well. Since that wasn't an option, you jerked your head in a clumsy nod, punctuating with the cant of your hips towards him that just made him chuckle as your panties were discarded towards the same direction as your pants. 

"Please." You whined, the tone making all of the men snap their eyes up to you, the expressions all reading make her do it again. You didn’t even have time to adjust to the cold air on your exposed bits before Gaz’s hot mouth was covering the sensitive flesh, drawing a gasp as you threw yourself back into Simon’s chest. Ghost only hooked his chin over your shoulder, lazily watching as Gaz licked a flat stripe, first dipping into your entrance, teasing a bit as deep as he could get. Your clit got a little attention from his nose bumping it, make you breathe sharp breaths with little clipped moans. But when he withdrew and  traced his tongue  back up, finding your clit and slipping under the hood, your attempts at demure noises were nixed by a sudden and echoing moan. 

"That good? Yeah, Gaz’s pretty skilled with ‘is tongue." Johnny nodded, nuzzling at your other shoulder as he watched on too, palming himself through his jeans, "Meticulous thing he is." 

"How’s she taste, sergeant?" Price asked, adjusting himself as well. Kyle surfaced for only a moment, replacing his tongue with his fingers when you whined in disappointment. 

"Better than the bloody brownies, that’s for certain." He hummed, his corners of his mouth glistening, eyes flicking up to you as he rested a cheek against the inside of your thigh. You tried to be offended at the diss to your baking skills, but as Kyle dove back in, a skillful swirl and lewd slurp killed any smart comment on your tongue, or rather on his. You weren’t sure if it was even possible to actually decipher, but you were certain he was spelling barrack’s bunny over your clit with his tongue, letter by unraveling letter. All four men seemed to delight in how your breathing sped up, how your head seemed so heavy to hold up that it flopped backwards into Simon’s shoulder. Kyle tolerated your hips rolling twice, but his chivalry ended the third time, reaching up and placing Simon’s hand at your waist to hold you still for him, while his hands kept your thighs from closing around his head. The message was clear. Anything you were getting would come from him and only him. You recalled how so many of his preferred videos revolved around control, pleasure dom, a term you had had to google. All you could do was stare down between your legs and watch him devour you. 

"If she tastes half as good as she looks…" Johnny trailed off, catching the corner of your mouth for a short kiss, his fingers tracing the lace pattern right over your perked nipples, at least Simon was lenient enough to let you arch your chest into the touch, "Right treat you are, hen." 

Your first climax was a quick thing, a full body clench and vulgar moan clawing its way out of your throat, your thighs trembling around Kyle as he licked and slurped his way through your high, collected anything you put out for him. His movements only slowing when your body relaxed back against Ghost. He gave your pussy a comedically sweet kiss before sitting up, and it was only then that he pulled you down to him for your first real kiss from him. It was tender and sweet, with the appropriate amount of tongue, almost the kind of kiss you’d give on a really good first date, if it wasn’t for the fact you could taste your essence on him, your cum making his lips slippery against yours. 

"Called dibs on that weeks ago." He grinned, breaking the kiss to watch his fingers to dip between your legs, collect some more of your wetness and pop it in his mouth, eyes closing like he was savoring a fine wine.  You watched him with mouth agape and eyes half lidded, "Alright then, Tav, surprised you held yourself back this long, go on then."

Johnny’s smile was all teeth as he descended upon you, kissing any of your slick off your mouth that Kyle’d left behind like he was getting a sneak preview. Though, for someone so often ridiculed for being impatient, he was anal about this kiss. Making sure to try every angle of his mouth against yours, then repeating his tests with tongue, and then once more splitting your attention with Simon. Ghost played along for a while, letting his sergeant explore your lips and your chest before he nodded down to the floor when Kyle’d been. 

"Keep yourself busy, Johnny." Was the clipped order, as he took over kissing you, one large hand splayed along your face to keep you drawn to him, as if you might try to get away. He had nothing to worry about, the whiplash of switching partners and desires had you craving attention anywhere you could find it. You were already putty on his lap with Johnny taking over Kyle’s place between you legs. While it was still overwhelmingly pleasurable, his actions were more sloppy than Kyle’s. His strategy was to barrage your nerves as opposed to Kyle’s precision attacks. It still had you whining and squirming, which was enough to short circuit your focus. Johnny didn’t seem to mind you instinctively grinding into his face, in fact it only seemed to encourage him. Simon’s job was to keep you from melting off his lap, which he did while his kisses became harder and harder, sometimes biting at your bottom lip, "Now you just taste like his shitty beer, you’ll lemme fix that, won’t you, lovie?" 

When you nodded, he smiled, tugging the balaclava all the way off. You didn’t even have time to properly admire how handsome he was under the thing, didn’t have time to pepper those scars with kisses or wax poetic about how all his unconventional features played together harmoniously to make him exceedingly handsome. Before you could do any of that, he’d taken a sip of his bourbon, swallowing as he watched you watch him. 

"Open." He directed, nodding when you obediently dropped your mouth open. He tipped your head back at the same time as he took a longer draw of his bourbon, holding it in his mouth for a moment before pulling your lips up to his and kissing the liquor straight onto your tongue, burning off anything and anyone else. When he’d given you every last drop, he pulled back and manually shut your mouth, "Go on and swallow for me, don’t waste it. ’s hard to get this stuff ‘round here." 

Bourbon wasn’t often in your rotation for drinks, the taste smoky and sharp just like the man that had kissed it into your mouth, but one look into Simon’s eyes had you nodding again. As you forced yourself to swallow it, the burn going all the way into stomach, stoking the fires the men had started in you. After he watched your throat bob, he nodded approvingly. 

"Good fuckin’ girl." He praised which made the burning sting worth it, catching your lips in another punishing kiss when you moaned from Johnny’s sloppy slurping. Simon hummed, finding that your mouth now tasted like his preferred pour, "Much better." 

After kissing the taste of his bourbon off you, he pulled back for a moment just to watch you whine and grind against the sergeant between both sets of your legs. After a moment of appreciation for the garment against your skin, the bralette they’d all liked so much was roughly yanked down,  the straps down your shoulders while the cups and band bunched up under your now exposed breasts. Johnny was watching from the floor, his big blue eyes crinkling and lips pulling into a smile against you, while Simon ran his hands over your bare chest, stopping to squeeze and pinch when he pleased. “Johnny- 

Ghost-" You almost shrieked not sure who to call too or thank for the electric static in your nervous system, arching your chest up into his hands, and when the movement moved your hips away from Johnny, he just took your legs off Simon’s knees and hooked them over his shoulders, keeping you firmly in place, "

Shit." 

"Language, sweet." Price teasingly scolded from his chair, still stroking his beard from his arm chair. Gaz and Simon just chuckled when you pouted through another throaty moan. Simon was nudging your cheek with his nose, skimming his teeth across you jawline between kisses that trailed fown your neck, sucking marks that would stay for weeks, always finding his way back to what seemed to be his favorite spot in the curve of your neck. “Should’ve seen the Sergeants when they first found that video, acting like they’d won the fuckin' lottery. Been wanting you for months but tha’ really sealed the deal, lovie, couldn’t even get through the first quarter before this one was panting and rutting. Like it was the first time they’d ever seen a dirty video. Ain’t that right, Johny?”  It was the most you’d ever heard Simon talk in one go, every couple of words grunted and groaned out between kisses across any skin he could reach with you sitting back against him, breath hotly fanning along your neck as he went. And when he finished the thought, he reached down between your legs and fished the sergeant up by his mohawk, leaving both you and Johnny whine at the loss of contact. Simon just laughed coldly and gave Johnny a prompting jerk, much rougher than he’d been touching you, “You gonna answer us, Johnny?”  “Aye. Aye. Knew I had to get ma’ hands on ye.” Was all he managed before diving in for another taste of you, surfacing briefly again to relay a message up to Simon, half moaned half growled, 

"This cunt's like fucking silk, I’ll tell you, Lt.” Strong hands clenching into the plushest parts your thighs holding them around his face like he was 

hoping he’d suffocate down there, "Ye gotta get in here, ain’t nothing like it."

"You want that, sweetheart?" Simon hummed, moving from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, "Want me in you?"

"Fuck. Yes, fuck me." You rambled which just made them chuckle at you as one of your hands when into Johnny’s mohawk and the other palmed at your breasts. Johnny moaned when you tugged at his hair, sending subtle vibrations up with his tongue that almost sent you undone again. Simon easily pushed you down his legs, still supporting you with one hand as Johnny kept going, and freeing his erection with the other. Gaz and Johnny had worked hard to warm you up, to break you in for them, but Simon’s dick threatened to break you, period. He was just as thick as John, but almost as long as Kyle, cut, veiny, with a pretty pink tip. Como se dice, how you say… hung like a fucking horse.  

He must’ve seen your wide eyes, the subtle fear in your eyes that was chased away when Johnny drug his teeth over your clit with just enough pressure to make you choke on your own spit. Ghost reached down intermingling his fingers with your folds and Johnny’s tongue, "We’ll start easy. Just the tip, lovie. Johnny’ll handle the rest for now." 

They did just that. He held his hand out to Johnny, letting the man on his knees spit into his palm and then rubbed it against his dick, before pulling you back against him once more. Before he even attempted any sort of penetration, he slid his erection through your folds a couple of times just to collect some more slick,  "You are just like silk, Johnny was right." 

He grunted into your neck with another few slippery passes before reaching down as easing the tip into you. He was thick, enough so that it stung a bit as you tried to adjust. Despite his soft voice and unusually soft eyes, Simon’s control slipped, rutting a bit before you were ready. At you uncomfortable whine, Johnny mirrored the sound in disapproval of your upset, immediately going to remedy the hurt with his tongue, servicing both you and Simon with a flat lick up Simon’s exposed length and then up to your clit to help you relax. 

"Breathe for me, lovie." The Liutenant ordered, like he was trying to be gentle with you but his jaw was gritted, trying even harder not to snap his hips against yours and bully his too-big dick into your hole, "Try to relax for me." 

You were panting, cheeks puffing with your breaths, not sure if Johnny’s tongue was helping or just tensing you up more, but God, it felt good and you weren’t going to be the one to tell him to stop. Not yet at least. You got another inch in, which earned a kiss to your neck. 

" s’all I can take right now." You breathed, reaching back to support yourself against him. 

"Better than I did on my first go, eh, LT?" Johnny grinned up before kissing up the length of Simon’s cock that wasn't inside of you, flicking his tongue over the stretched rim of your entrance that was still trying to clench around the sudden intrusion, "She’s tryin’ so hard." 

By the look in his eyes, he wasn’t talking about you. The She in question was just your pussy. Simon nodded along, hissing curses into your hair. 

"Alright, lovie, alright, no more for now." He gritted out, " ‘m gonna move now, just try and stay loose as you can for me." 

Humming in agreement, you tried to let yourself be pliant against him, feeling his hips rock, the in and out of his movements pleasurable enough to draw out a keening moan despite the less than comfortable stretch. His lips were at your neck again as he continued his thrusts, slightly steadier, growing more confident. And then it was his teeth, nipping between sucks, though his words were still growled, "That’s it, doing so good for me, for us." 

Your mistake was losing yourself in the feeling, letting your hips rock because it shattered what little control Ghost had at the moment. He sunk in another few inches, teetering between painful and pleasurable, making you cry out, nails digging into his forearms as a tear slipped down your cheek. The dig of your nails only urged him on, the nip of your teeth turning into a full bite, enough to break skin just slightly. However, the moment your cry was one of actual discomfort instead of pleasure, he withdrew completely, kissing over where he’d bitten, "Sorry, sorry, lovie, got too rough, too quick with you." 

He slowly eased you off of him, nudging Johnny off as well, still kissing at the spot he’d bitten too harshly, fingers kneading comfort into your hips and then your thigh, "Y'alright? Need to stop?" 

You took a breath, let the initial shock of the stretch and the bite fade away, let him swipe the rogue tear off your cheek, let your body readjust…. and then shook your head, signalling you wanted to keep going, pulling him by the back of the neck down to you again for a kiss. Johnny was still at your knees, massaging your thighs, watching Simon deepen the kiss as much as you’d let him, and then pushing a little further, his fingers flexing hard into you again making you wince just a little. Honestly, you could’ve endured that, hell with another couple of kisses, you could’ve enjoyed it. But this time, he cut himself off, pulling back with a slew of curses that’d send a sailor to confession. 

"Fuck, ‘m sorry, sweetheart, I’ve never been good at taking it slow." Simon growled, jaw still clenched so hard you were afraid he’d crack a tooth., thumbs easing the irritated skin he’d clenched just slightly too hard, "You’re just too perfect, can’t keep my head on straight."

Ghost stopped to think for a moment, breathing hot and heaving against you skin, before flicking his eyes down to Soap who’d stopped massaging your thighs in favor of featherlight kisses where his stubble had chafed you. You’d seen this before, the internet called it cuteness aggression. 

"Price." He called, nodding to his Captain, a signal to take over. John nodded, and after meeting your still lust glazed expression, ascertaining you were alright, seemed rather amused by the tag-in.  It seemed, despite the civilian clothes  and whatever intimacy was shared amongst the group, rank hierarchy was still firmly present, because when Captain Price finally rose from his arm chair, the sergeants and Lieutenant wordlessly moved out of his way, presenting you along the way for him as his belt buckle jingled being loosened and discarded. 

Still, despite his evident imposition, his strength was gentle as he peeled you off his lieutenant who stood, manhandling Johnny off with him to the chair. Half dazed and panting, you were grateful for his patience as he asked with only a little teasing, "Can you stand for me, Sweet, just a little?" 

And when your legs were still jelly and trembling, he just chuckled, leaking cigar smoke into your mussed hair, "That’s alright, Sweet, you just let me lay you out all pretty." 

With that, you were bent over the arm of your boss’s sofa, callous hands traced slowly down your spine and then paused at your hips, massaging your flanks much as he had his cuts of steak. Price massaged his way from your hips, over and around your ass, and then worked from outwards to the inner most part of your thighs. Finally, he dragged a flat palm up your exposed sex, and when you looked over your shoulder, he was licking his tongue across that same hand, a deep rumbling growl shaking you to your core as you watched him taste not only you, but also notes of his boys, "Sweeter than fuckin’ sugar, love. Fuckin’ perfect." 

You just stared at him with wide eyes, limply spread over the arm rest, hips instinctively pressing back into him to find more touch, more friction, more him. Words failed, only high pitched whines made it out. Which made Johnny, off to the side, chuckle. 

"Think this is the longest I’ve ever seen her quiet." The scot chided, watching with great interest as Price took another swipe through your folds, coating his cock in whatever (whoever’s) bodily fluids he collected there. 

"Maybe you should take some notes, mutt." Simon gruffed, taking a fistful of the sergeant’s Mohawk and tugging it rather harshly backwards, exposing Johnny’s throat that his teeth descended upon almost immediately. Some time between being between our legs and being in Simon’s lap, Johnny’s shirt had disappeared, his jeans still on but unbuckled and Simon was fishing his erection out. 

"Ignore ‘em." Price chuckled down to you, physically redirecting your attention by giving your clit a bit of attention as he eased himself slowly in, all the way to his base, "Y’feel even better than you taste, sweet thing, y’know that?" 

You didn’t know that, but you’d take the compliment, if you remembered it, or your own name by the end of… whatever this was. He gave one slow and steady thrust, almost like an experiment, one hand holding your hips in place, the other holding his cigar up to his lips. 

"Dessert before dinner, how about that, lads?" 

There was a moment of recall to his earlier words, "Already had something else in mind for dessert" echoed with what he just said in your fuzzy mind. You had been dessert all along, and judging by the ravenous eyes with varying degrees of satiation,  the 141 intended to eat their fill, your online look-a-like was simply a taste test. A momentary taste of vindication on your tongue- you hadn’t been reading too far into things or fluffing your own ego, this was premeditated, and your matching set wasn’t presumptuous. Still, that only lasted a singular breath, the smug vindication was phsycially forced out of you with a rough snap of his hips, the first of many from the demanding, almost brutal, pace John set for himself. 

"There’s a girl, you just take it for me," He grunted between thrusts, seemingly pleased with your little cries and moans, "Just like that, sweet, you’ll be taking Simon’s cock in no time."  

John Price’s couch was not picked out with ‘being bent over the side’ in mind. Or perhaps, you were just a bit softer than the other’s that had had the pleasure of being bent over the arm like John had you at that moment. Taking mercy upon your ribs, or perhaps just for his own selfish purposes, Kyle slotted himself underneath your front and sat you up against his chest, throwing your arms over his shoulders. While John still had your hips over the couch arm, Gaz had pulled you chest up to his, his lips finding your lips, your cheek, jaw, and breasts as he went. 

"Poor sweet thing" Kyle cooed, his perfect pearly teeth nipping at your ear while is chest steadied you against Price’s onslaught that pushed a thought our of your mind with each quick, but deep, thrust, "Didn’t know what you were walking into, did you? And now look at what a mess we made you?" 

You couldn’t tell if Kyle was mocking you or praising you, kind words and little digs were both dipped in that sugary sweet tone that just made you nod up at him with wide eyes and a pouted lip. One of this thumbs reached up and swiped a mascara laden tear out from under your eye, the same thumb dipping into your mouth and holding it open in the pornographic O-shape after Price drew a vulgar moan out with a particularly deep thrust that also managed to scoot the sofa a couple of inches. Gaz didn’t even waver, just laughed a bit as he held you steady, "Mean, innit he?" 

Another moan blocked the chance at a snappy reply, not that you had the current brain power to make one. The sergeant just took the chance to swallow your noises with his mouth over yours, kissing you and biting your bottom lip as he pulled away. With what little fortitude you had, you grabbed the collar of that soft sweater and hauled him right back up to your mouth. It was aggressive kissing. Tongue and teeth and nails, sloppy and  dirty, your noses bumping together from the force of Price’s thrusting. 

When Price adjusted your hips, it forced you onto your tip toes to maintain the angle. And while the new angle provided incentive and reward in the way of relentless pounding of that delicious spongy spot inside you, that fact only made it harder for your already shaking legs to support you. 

"Hold her fast, Sergeant." Was the grunted order as he gave your ass a smack, like he was punishing you for the indiscretion of already having you legs fucked out from under your from the other men in his living room. Honestly, How dare you? Kyle took orders beautifully. The best multitasker on the squad, as he not only, held you at that perfect angle for his Captain, but also, trailed wet, hot kisses down to your chest, locking onto one of your nipples with devious precision, only sucking harder when you cried out. 

" ‘m gonna cum-!" It was strangled and whined into Kyle’s shoulder still fisting the collar of his shirt while your other hand posed serious risk of shredding the upholstery. 

"You gonna cum on me, sweet? Go ahead, but I’m not stopping." Price chuckled through his warning, leaning over your head and pulling Gaz in by the back of his neck for a sloppy kiss of his own. 

"Go on then. Give it to him." Kule urged in that sickly sweet tone, "The captain’s working so hard back there for you, least you could do is let ‘im feel how pretty you fall apart." 

Another moan, a garbled cry of both of their names mashed together when they pushed you over the edge in tandem with a well timed deep thrust and light smack to your clit from Price at the same time that Gaz tweaked both of your nipples.. 

"You feel that Cap? That flutter?" Gaz called, talking (literally) over your head as you sagged, twitching against him, unlatching from the hickey he was sucking into your collarbone, "That’s fuckin’ magic, that is." 

"Flutter? She’s wringing me dry in there." Price groaned, his pace only slowed by the vice like grip your core had as your eyes rolled back, "Sweet’s cunt’s practically swallowing me, bloody hell, greedy thing, aren’t you?"

The only reprieve you had was Price leaning forward so his warm chest pressed to your back, his big hands circling your clit like it might encourage you loosen back up for him so he could resume his movements, "C’mon, love, you gonna answer me?" 

"Yes…" You drawled, flopping your head over so you could meet his eyes over your shoulder, that signature mirthful smile twitching the corners of his beard of as he tweaked the little bundle of nerves to correct you. With a little cry, you answered once more, "Yes, sir." 

"Atta girl." Price nodded approvingly as he took a long draw of his cigar his pinkie shaking off little bits of ash onto your raised posterior (which should’ve made you feel degraded, or maybe it did which is why it made your eyes flutter again), both at the answer and at the relaxing of your muscles allowing him to build his pace back up.  

"Hear that, love?"  Kyle’s attention returned down to you when your face dropped back down into the curve of his shoulder, "what a good pussy, taking us all so well, and she just keeps wanting more." 

"More?" You croaked out through another moan, panting and trying to count the stars dotting your vision, not sure if you were requesting or parroting in disbelief. Though with a clearer mind, you wouldn’t have been so shocked. Price had barely stuttered in getting his rhythm back up to it’s pace, riding you all the way through your orgasm. 

"Told you, ‘m not fucking stopping." Price growled with another smack to the round of your ass. Something between a moan and a cry crawled out of your throat, but tapping our hadn’t once occurred to you. 

"You can take it, love, bet you can even give us another big finish, yeah?" Kyle encouraged. It occurred to you the Gaz had now coaxed you through two orgasms, and really hadn’t even asked for anything in return from you. And while you were sure, between the four of you, someone would throw him a bone(r), you decided to take that cross upon yourself, reaching down between him and yourself and wrapping around his dick. From what you could tell, he was on the leaner side, but he was the longest in the group, slightly curved. Which gave you plenty of room to rub and squeeze, from base to his tip where you thumbed the slit, spreading the precum back down as you followed the vein on the underside. Kyle tried to chuckle through a moan, "Bloody hell, love." 

Jerking off took on a new meaning as your movements, meant to be languid and smooth, turned jerky and choppy with the force of Price’s increasing speed, his rythym stuttering as he chased his own release. Kyle leaned down using one of his free hands to roll a nipple in his fingers, catching the other in his mouth as you continued to pump him. Between the two of them, it didn’t take long to come close to the edge once more, and you didn’t even have time to be proud of bring both of them over with you in tandem as your third orgasm tore through you, leaving all three of you dazed and breathless. You were vaguely aware of Gaz’s cum on you chest, kind of feeling the warm, sticky trail it left as it leaked down your front while John gave a few more lazy strokes as he softened inside of you. Though Gaz twitched hard again just watching your eyes roll back, and when Price was finally done, he gave your thighs a gentle, almost proud squeeze, watching his spend leak out for a moment before gently collecting you upright once more. With a sweet forehead kiss that contrasted so heavily from the cigar ashes and ass slaps, he gave your cheek a little pat, "Still with me, sweet?" 

"Mmmhm." You nodded, eyes only half opned as Gaz sat up behind you and sucked kisses across the back of your shoulders. You’d be wearing turtle necks for weeks. John’s attention shifted over to Simon, who you now realized had been watching the show with the darkest eyes you’d ever seen with poor Johnny taking the brunt of whatever storm Ghost had brewing. Your eyes fluttered watching the liutenant’s hand tighten around Johnny’s throat. Despite the tears on the Scot’s face, he didn’t appear to be too upset with his current predicament, in fact giving you a groan through a watery smile as Simon’s other hand tightened even more around Johnny’s leaking dick. 

"Got it all out of your system, Lieutenant?" Price asked with a raised brow, both him and Gaz still keeping you upright with gently roaming hands. Simon gave both his hands another squeeze making Johnny pant. 

"I’m solid." He nodded, surprisingly tender as he released Johnny, the sergeant stumbling off his lap.  Simon rose behind him, both men approaching the couch. You weren’t positive what ‘it’ was or why it needed to be out of Simon’s system, but Gaz nodded and pressed one last sweet kiss to the curve of you shoulder before letting Simon slide into his place. The largest of the men simply laid down on the couch, taking up most of the three-seater, efficently pulling you backwards so you straddled his lap facing away from him. 

"Nice and slow for me, lovie." Simon directed, lining himself up with your entrance after bumping your clit with his tip. Thank god for his strong hands guiding your hips down at the pace he set. Though Price had thoroughly broken you in, and you’d already partially taken Simon once, you still tensed up nervously but set your jaw with determination to do it again and get all of it from this new angle. With your back to his face, you had a front row set to the others watching hungrily. Kyle was leaning back against Price’s chest, the older man reaching around to palm the sergeant’s erection as Gaz pressed his back to Price’s front, grinding backwards. But Johnny, poor Johnny, with his cock almost purpled by Simon’s earlier teasing, rocking on his heels like he was just waiting for permission to join in, sapphire eyes bouncing between Simon’s face, your face, and the stretch of you pussy around Simon’s cock- like he couldn’t decide who was most jealous of. 

Inch after deliciously painful inch, Simon helped you ease yourself down until your ass was flush with his hips. From this angle, though Simon could still rut up against you, the pace was all your decision, making it harder for him to lose control again. With your hands braced against his tree-trunk thighs. Simon gave you a minute to adjust, to pant and try to focus your eyes. The soldier underneath you grunted, fingers flexing on your waist as he adjusted himself making you whimper and almost fall forward. 

"Si-" Johnny whined, his hands twitching forward like he wanted to help you, or maybe just touch you, his cock leaking down his leg. Simon’s voice was not as gentle to his sergeant, a gruff order. 

"No’ yet."  Before returning his attention to you, voice softening slightly, "Take your time, sweetheart, move when you want, I want you to feel good." 

Giving a jerky nod, you gave an experimental wiggle that nestled him somehow even deeper. Your moan was lodged in your throat as your eyes shut, but the movement earned a deep groan and hiss from Simon. With a deep breath, you managed to move past the acclimation stage so the actual pleasure started building again, which felt like crossing the finish line of a marathon. Next, a roll of your hips that genuinely blurred out your vision, feeling so good that our body instinctively did it again to chase the feeling. And then again, and again- head falling forward and then rolling back. 

"That’s it, lovie, find your rhythm." Simon tried to prain but it sounded more like a growl as his hands flexed again into the softest parts of your waist, his long fingers spanning so far that they kneaded into the plushness of your stomach, "Fuckin' hell." 

"Si-" Johnny whined again, drawing the clipped nickname into two syllables, this time his twitching fingers finding purchase in the arm of the sofa you’d been bent over earlier. If you weren’t so focused on Simon’s cock rearranging your internal organs, you might’ve heard the ominous creak of the fabric under his strength. When your eyes fluttered open, they locked onto Johnny’s bright blues, darkened to a stormy hue with impatient want. His Scottish brogue thickening deeply, "Ah keened you’d be better than the lass in the fuckin’ videos, so fuckin’ sweet and pretty-" 

"Alright." Simon gruffed  before his voice softened down again, "Go on, sweetheart, show the mutt some love, won’t you? He won’t shut up until you do." 

Even though the permission had been given to you, Johnny was immediately upon you. Much like Gaz, Johnny took up the job of supporting your upper body as Simon had your hips firmly in his grasp. With one knee pressed into the couch cushion, he hugged your chest to his, his hands groping and feel any part of you he could get his hands on like it was the first time he’d touched you or any other soft and pretty thing. Unlike Gaz, his mouth on your started out aggressive and when you would moan, he’d mirror the noises, groaning them right back onto your tongue. 

"And soft. Ye sound better too." Johnny groaned when Simon suddenly rutted against your rocking, leaving you crying out and digging your nails into Johnny’s shoulders. With strong but surprisingly gentle grip, your fingers were removed from his shoulders. Johnny led one of your hands in an exploratory trail down his chest, following the path of thick, dark body hair, past his abs, until he wrapped your hand around his cock which twitched even at your slightest touch. 

"So fucking soft, bonnie," he breathed, coaxing your hand into movement while kissing your other palm, before looking over to Simon, "Not a callous on her hands, Lt, dinnae even think about that." 

Simon merely grunted in acknowledgement of Johnny’s discovery, seeing as his focus was an entirely different part of your anatomy. The larger man seemed content letting his sergeant be the vocal one, sometimes rewarding you with a hiss or a strangled groan. He’d given up on letting you control the pace now that you were acclimated and half bouncing against him, rutting and grinding against you in time with your own rolling and rocking as you sped up. It was only natural for your hand on Johnny’s cock to speed up as well. 

"Sweetheart, why don’t you show him something even softer than your hands? He went through a lot for you, after all." He didn’t give you time to ask what that was supposed to mean, but you figured it had something to do the vicious series of bites and hickies on the man’s neck. You could tell Simon was moving because his cock was shifting angle inside of you, making you gasp. One of his large hands splayed against the small of your back, pressing you firmly forward and down. A sudden thrust as he applied pressure to your back made you go boneless, letting the men push your cheek first into Johnny’s stomach and then down to where your hand was still pumping Johnny’s cock. 

"Look at that, a multitasker. ’s why she’s such a good analyst for us." Gaz chided from the sidelines like he was commentating on a sports match, watching as you were stroking Johnny, holding your cheek against him while trying to catch your breath from Simon’s thrusts. Johnny helped guide himself into your mouth. It wasn’t so much length as the girth, even thicker than Price, that stretched your jaw uncomfortably. But the way that Johnny moaned sinfully above you when your nose pressed into the dark curls at his base, the way he all but melted over you like butter, encouraged to breathe through your nose and keep going. 

"Steaming Jesus, Si, I cannae last like this-" Johnny moaned, seemingly not even noticing how loud he was. Simon only laughed lowly, reaching around your thighs to dip between them, circling your clit. Your thighs were trembling, moans getting louder and less restrained, nothing about this was restrained anymore. 

"That’s alright, Johnny, neither will she, will you, lovie?" He asked with another deep thrust, "feel ‘ow she’s shaking?"  

You were shaking your head still with a mouthful of Johnny’s cock, because you weren’t going to last much longer, eyes rolling and fluttering, landing on the arm chair again where Gaz being treated as well, both him and John watching appreciatevly as Ghost and Soap had you in lopsided Eiffel tower. You were pulling out any trick for Johnny that you managed to remember between Simon’s thrusts, swirling tongue and bobbing heads. But what did him in was actually Simon’s doing. When Simon rolled his hips into you just right, hitting every good spot and giving your clit a swipe, your eyes crossed and you moaned, practically screaming around Johnny’s member, the vibrations and look on your face enough to finish him. His hand tightened in your hair, hips snapping, pushing your nose into his pelvis, and holding you there as he came with what some might call a battle cry.  After everything Simon had put him through earlier, he was pent up, leaving him cumming. and cumming, and cumming, until you had to swat at his thigh because you couldn’t take anymore. 

You swallowed what you could, taking a couple more spurts to your face and chest before Johnny crumbled onto the couch against you, kissing the taste of himself right off your tongue as Simon continued his thrusts, getting incrementally faster and harder as you proved you could handle it. The scot took over the praising and encouragement as his superior fell back into the quiet grunting and groaning against you, though you could barely make out any of the words as you approached your fourth finish. For the first time in your life you understood the phrase "fucked stupid". You were somewhat sure you were rambling gibberish accolades to the men, cries of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ’thank you’ intermingled with moans and curses that put your over the top XXX twin’s to shame. 

"C’mon, sweetheart, one more f’ me." Simon growled out, switching positions so quickly and effeciently that you didn’t even realize it until you body was pressed face down into the couch cushion, Simon still behind you, drilling into you with a pace that put mechanized machinery to shame. You weren’t even sure how you were taking it just that you were and if he stopped you might start crying, "I know you’re close, just lemme have it-" 

Johnny was back on his knees in front of the couch, catching your nipple in his mouth. And you turned your head towards John and Kyle, locked in their own encounter, and then it just snapped. Your orgasm not just washing over you, but a tidal wave crashing over you and frying every nerve a long the way. For a moment your vision whited out, the only thing you were aware of was Simon’s strokes slowing and working you through it. With your body practically vibrating with overstimulation, you let your unseeing eyes roam to to the cieling fan and let your mind wander as you floated somewhere above reality for a bit, enjoying the electric feelings between each neuron firing. Every noise and sight becoming background information as overstimulation fuzzed it all out except the aftershocks and twinges in your core. 

You weren’t sure how long it was before you came back to yourself, but you heard Johnny’s voice first, "C’mon, bonnie, float back down to us."

"There she is." Kyle cooed in tandem with the other sergeant while your cheek, "Lost you for a bit there. Alright?" 

You were more than alright, body more sated than it’d been in years, still thrumming and twitching with the aftershocks, so you just nodded slowly, trying to focus your eyes in on one thing at a time, voice slightly slurred with nothing to do with the drinks, " ‘m alright." 

"Was worried I broke you." That was Simon, who’s lap your head was in. You only offered a dopey smile and a lazily blink.

"You might’ve, but I’m ok, more than ok." You sighed with a dry laugh, turning your head so your cheek pressed to his thigh, though you noticed he’d slipped his sweats back on. 

"Si’s gotta work on being gentle, we don’t make him practice enough." Johnny teased, running soothing hands along your sides. Suddenly, a cup of water with a straw was placed in front of your face, and when you looked up it was Price holding it down to you before Kyle took it and held it steady for you. 

"Never see you complaining about it, McTavish." John teased right back, trading off the cup so he could smooth hair off your sweaty forehead, "Take as long as you need, sweet, y’did good for us. So good." 

His praise nestled deeply, right between your ribs, making you smile softly as Kyle coaxed the straw into your mouth, letting you sip on the water as he ran a caring thumb over the apple of your cheek.

— 

You must’ve dozed off, because when you woke up, you were still on the couch, but everyone else had moved around you liked you simply always been nestled amongst them. The thought made your lips curl in a dopey grin as you looked around them. Half upright and wrapped in someone’s hoodie, you were laying against Price’s chest, head tipped back into his shoulder as he worked around a plate filled for two, the atmosphere was cozy now, the electric  frantic tension from earlier had morphed into something warm and intimate. 

“Evening. Hungry?” His chest rumbled as he held the plate closer to your field of view. Two very juicy ribeyes, baked potatoes, green vegetable- the stereotypical macho man plate. John seemed all too proud of himself when you opened your mouth to accept a fork of perfectly cut bite-size steak, laughing when you hummed in approval, “There we go, sweet, worked up an appetite, yeah?” 

“Really? Thought we already stuffed ‘er pretty good.” Kyle teased, still gently swiping warm rags over your body, wiping away any evidence that wasn’t etched or sucked semipermanently into your skin, occasionally following his ministrations with gentle kisses and soft praises, “Feel ok, love? Need anything?” 

When you shook your head, gently squeezing his wrist in gratitude, he only smiled, giving you a tender kiss to the forehead before retrieving his own plate and sitting on the opposite side of Price, claiming the captain’s other shoulder for his own head.

Johnny was in the same boat as you, though whatever the hell Simon had done to him made his attention to you look like princess treatment, having obviously reigned himself in with you. Was that what Ghost was getting out of his system before coming back to you? Still, the scot didn’t seem to have many complaints after Simon sat him down between your legs on the couch, letting the sergeant lay facedown against the softest part of your stomach, where he’d nuzzled the hoodie out of the way so he could rest against your bare skin. It was then you noticed that you and Johnny were the only ones still in a state of undress which if your mind wasn’t moving at a snail’s pace, you might’ve tried to read into. 

Like you, he seemed half asleep and fucked out, a couple more bites around his neck that hadn’t been there the last time he’d been touching you. Soap’s mohawk gave you something to gently fidget with as Price nudged another bite against your lips. Simon took his seat on the floor, leaned back against the base of the couch with his head tipped back against the curve of your hip. One of his arms wrapped around the leg that Johnny had dangling off the couch, massaging gentle circles into the mans calf muscle. His other other arm was propped on his knee so he could catch your wrist where it flopped down on his shoulder. He was tender as he ran his ungloved hand over yours, massaging your fingers and comparing them to his much larger hands, murmuring himself, “No callouses.” 

“Told you, Si.” Johnny sighed almost dreamily into your bare stomach, leaning into your fingers in his hair. With the rest of the men doting on you and Johnny, Simon didn’t even retaliate or tease something back, just snickering quietly and fondly, offering straw topped water bottle to the sergeant. 

Another bite of food was offered to you, along with water, and something struck you funny, drawing a quiet chuckle out of you as you turned your face into Price’s neck to stifle the noise. It drew the group’s eyes, clearly waiting for you to divulge. “C’mon, hen, share with the class.” Johnny prompted with grin, always down for a laugh, propping his chin up on your belly so he could look at you through the valley of your cleavage, eyes shining like you’d hung the moon. 

“What’s on that pretty mind of yours?” Price rose his eyebrows, cutting another bite of meat for you. 

“Nothing, it’s dumb.” You snicker a little more, earning a expectant but amiable tug to your fingers from Simon, “It’s just all a little backwards, s’all.” 

“Backwards?” The liutenant parroted in that deep Manc accent, making you giggle a bit more, nodding against Price.

“I let y’all fuck me every which way from Tuesday, and you didn’t even buy me dinner first.”  You mused, ironically before taking another bite of one of the best steaks you’d ever had, which could be an effect of the post-sex endorphin rush, or maybe John was just a grill master. “Our apologies, sweet thing.” John rolled his eyes playfully, his apology deeply sarcastic as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“In our defense, dinner and a very nice bottle of wine were on the agenda before, but some people,” Gaz’s eyes flicked over to Johnny and Simon who didn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Simon was stone faced as usual, still playing with and kissing at your fingers while Johnny just smiled into your belly, “got impatient.” 

“Hey, the first time Simon fucked me all I got was the drink mix and wet nap from his MRE.” Johnny whined which only made you laugh harder. 

“Y’didn’t ask for anything else.” Simon shrugged tilting his head to press an uncharacteristically romantic kiss to the curve of the Scot’s knee. “ ’sides, I got your mouth on her didn’t I? think I made up for it.”  And before you could question if Simon was really the one to orchestrate all of this, Price quieted you with a bite of potato while Gaz leaned over to distract you with his lips on your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, love.”

  And for the first time since you’d seen their search histories, you weren’t worried about much of anything other than when this might happen again.

 ____ 

me, who doesn’t ever really write smut: yes i will enjoy writing a fivesome with at least ten hands, five mouths, ten arms, and four penises to keep up with. 

Y’all should see the notesapp where I had to like draw out stick figures to see if what I was writing was anatomically possible. I feel like this has gotten me on some kind of watchlist. 

Taglist in Comments because there were too many of y'all!! Thanks to anyone who has commented, liked, and reblogged! Whenever I'm feeling uninspired, I just scroll through y'alls comments and they make me smile so so much!!!

[pencil-n-pen]

REDUCED TO SKIN AND BONE

. ݁₊ ♡ . ݁˖

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buck x people pleaser! fem! reader

masterlist | kofi

summary: Pathological People Pleaser- capital P. That’s you. Life is a helluva lot easier when no one can hurt you- not if you never give anyone substantial pieces of yourself. Too bad Evan “Buck” Buckley takes issue with this.

cw: reader is a grade A pathological people pleaser so all the angst and issues that come with that, canon-typical gore/violence (they are firefighters/paramedics)

tags/tropes: coworkers to lovers (hr HATES these two) bobby knowing everything about these two but letting them work it out anyway, team as a family, BUCK IS BOBBY’S KID IDC WHAT ANYONE SAYS, also Buck being really sweet and nice (and reader having no idea what to do with this)

a/n: tbh this reader is really just a girl. this fic is extremely inspired by Love Theoretically by Ali Hazelwood, which, my dear followers, if you'll recall, is my favorite romance book ever (!!!!!) also no one say reader isn't realistic bc i based her internal dialogue and worries off of my real life experiences as a recovered people pleaser (there is hope for us)

credit to @bookshelf-dust for the in house arson investigator idea !! super brilliant and perfect !! go read their stuff !!

title taken from Goddess from Laufey!

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‘Who could ever leave me darling, but who could stay?

Cause they see right through me//Can you see right through me?

-The Archer, Taylor Swift

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Firefighter Evan “Buck” Buckley confuses you.

You’ve only been with the 118 for about two months. You’d be lying if you said the action and excitement of actually working with the firefighters on calls didn’t excite you to come to work— something you thought you’d never say.

And the team is great. You were nervous as hell at first. Suddenly being out on calls is exciting now, but scary as shit at first. You were much too used to your boring desk job. Plus, the firefighters were all intimidating in their own ways- Hen and Bobby the most.

Hen, because you totally look up to her and admire her ability to just… do whatever and say whatever and not worry what other people think. She holds her head high, and you’re more than a little envious.

Bobby, because he’s your captain, and you need to prove your worth as an addition to the team.

Slowly but surely, you began to solidify your presence as a team member. You aren’t sensitive to the blood and gore they see on calls which definitely won you points with Hen and Chimney, and you aren’t a pushover- you’re willing to put your foot down when push comes to shove. Plus, not to brag, but you’re damn good at your job.

After a month, you’d gotten everything down pat. What’s the right thing to say, what isn’t the right thing to say. What to do so the team trusts you, what to do so they don’t ask too many questions, how to correctly come across to them as a capable person. How to seem normal and well-adjusted and fine. What normal looks like to them.

With the exception of Evan Buckley.

You just… can’t get a read on him. Ever. He’s nice and smart and funny (and ridiculously attractive, like seriously, it’s not even fair) but no one is that nice and smart and funny (and ridiculously attractive.)

You don’t like talking to him because he’s been more than a little sweet on you since day one. And obviously it's not serious and he doesn't mean it, just friendly camaraderie, but. But but but but but. It catches you off guard without fail every single time. Because every single time you talk to him, you get the very distinct sense that he’s looking right though you. That when you’re talking to the rest of the team, perfect smile in place, he can see through you.

It’s more than a little unnerving. It leaves you unsteady and wrong-footed. Like you’re never sure what exactly to say or how to act.

So you mostly just avoid him. You’re thankful that you’re only the arson investigator, because if you’d actually been a real firefighter, avoiding him would be a million times harder. As it stands, it’s fairly easy to do it without being obvious.

Or so you think.

“Is something wrong Captain Nash?” You ask, shutting the door behind you in his office.

Bobby rolls his eyes. “I’ve told you to just call me Bobby.”

“I think the second I do, my parents will appear in the room and lecture me about respect and manners.”

You sit as he gestures, watching with almost perfectly concealed apprehension as he laces his fingers.

“Did Buck say something to you?”

What.

“What?”

“Firefighter Buckley,” Bobby clarifies, as if that was the part of the question that needed specification. “I’ve noticed that you tend to avoid him when possible. You’re good at it, I’ll give you that. No one else has noticed.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the admission of being caught.

“How could you tell?” You ask instead of answering his question.

Bobby just shrugs. “I have three kids. This isn’t my first rodeo. Now, you mind telling me what exactly is going on here?”

You’re not really sure you can explain this to him without one, sounding like a crazy person, and two, having him lose all the respect you’ve worked hard to build with him.

You settle for the super abridged version.

“Buck… makes me nervous. I’ve had some bad experiences with men that acted like him before, so. I’m over it, of course, I’m fine he just… sets me on edge a little. I’m not like, afraid of him or anything.”

You are actually afraid of him a little. Because if he really does see through you then what’s stopping him from ripping the current back? Giving everyone a good look into your ugly and raw? What’s stopping him from leaving you exposed?

Bobby hums, contemplating.

“You don’t trust him.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” You rush to amend, heart starting to race. Fix it fix it fix it fix it— “I do trust him. I know he’d never hurt me, or anyone else for that matter, he’s a great guy—“

Bobby leans back in his seat. “He’s a genuinely nice guy, and you don’t know how to deal with that, so you avoid him. You don’t trust that he’s genuine.”

Too close too close too close too close—

Smile. Laugh. Look down for a few seconds. Raise head, hold eye-contact. Speak.

“Nothing like that,” Smile. “Just takes some time for a girl to get used to all the facts that tend to come with him. I could’ve done without the one about heart worms before lunch.”

Laugh.

“Oh, you have no idea. Imagine being present when he actually got to assist on a tapeworm removal. I was put off noodles entirely for months.”

Now Bobby laughs, a real one, so you laugh with him, and you feel a little safer, the conversation back in your control.

“I promise, there’s nothing between me and Buck. Just new-girl nerves.”

Flash a smile, appease the man.

“If that’s all, then you’re free to go. Keep up the good work.”

You stand, one hand on the edge of the armrest of the chair to hide the minute tremors in your hand. You hold your breath as you leave Bobby’s office, breathing tiny, quick breaths through your nose until you make it to the safety of your office, closing the door behind you and all but collapsing into your chair.

That was… close. You must’ve let your guard down around Bobby. His personality and dad-aura are so disarming. You hadn’t even realized he’d been watching you that close. He read you a little too easily and a little too quickly. That was too close. What if he had—

A knock on your door snaps you ramrod straight, posture perfect and easy expression snapped into place in seconds.

It takes everything in you not to deflate when you see who walks through the door.

“Buck?”

“Sorry, sorry,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, “I know you don’t like me in here, I’ll be quick. I just need that file from that warehouse fire case?”

You frown as you search your filing cabinet for the case file. “I’ve never said I didn’t like you in here.”

“Yeah, not as much as said as implied.”

“I don’t mind you in here. It’s just an office.”

You’re not sure what he wants you to say. Does he want you to agree with him, tell him you don’t want him in here, make him right? Does he want you to tell him that he’s welcome in your office?

What does he want?

He shrugs in the corner of your eye, hands in his pockets, and you honestly have to physically restrain yourself from staring at the muscles of his arms as they move and tense with the motion. It’s very conflicting: him being the unending source of the late-night fantasies you pretend not to indulge in to fall asleep, hugging a pillow, and the fact that he’s the reason you’ve considered going on anxiety medication.

“…Are you okay?”

You’re abruptly reminded that he’s still in your office and you’re still having a conversation and your grip has at some point turned crushing on the case file.

“Oh, yeah,” Smile, look down, laugh. Look up(?) “Long night last night. Didn’t get much sleep.”

He cocks his head, the action reminiscent of a dog. He really is a golden retriever. You should really stop thinking about Buck so much.

“I thought you went home early last night?”

Your smile wavers.

Laugh(?) put the case file down. Take a sip of coffee, smile(?)

“You know how it is. Work never quite ends at work.”

He doesn’t skip a beat before speaking.

“Why do you do that?”

Something cold starts to drip down your neck. An icy chill of dread.

“Do what?”

“That lying thing.”

Smile? Laugh? Sit down?

Your other hand comes up to cup your coffee. “As far as I know, I don’t have a lying thing.” You huff a breathy laugh, but it comes out wrong. More wheezing and choked than a laugh.

He leans back against the wall of your office, crossing his arms. “Yeah you do. Like, sure, maybe you did have a late night, but none of those expressions or smiles were real. You like, lie with your face.”

You feel cold and hot at the same time. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Do you want this case file?”

“No, you know what I’m talking about. Is it conscious? Is it like code-switching? Nah, this is too—“

“Buck!” You snap, skin crawling, “Would you please just take this file and go?”

He snaps his fingers, pointing at you. “There! That’s real. That was a real expression.”

You forcibly smooth your face out, trying to project the calm you don’t feel. “Me getting annoyed with you?”

“Yeah,” He chuckles a little, a small smile on his face. “Just for a second, you looked real.”

You blink. Pause. Turn his words over in your head.

“You don’t really need this case file, do you?”

“Nope.”

You set the mug down, ignoring the way your tremors increased at your little outburst. “So you just came to what? Get under my skin? Disturb me while I’m working?”

He taps a boot on the floor. “Kind of. It’s my turn to be the man behind, and this beats mopping.”

This time, the flat glare you send him is intentional. “You really know how to make a girl feel special.”

“I don’t know. You don’t seem as rigid as you did a few minutes ago.”

You stiffen your posture on instinct. “It’s called posture.”

“That’s not posture. That’s fear.”

His tone is light and joking, but his words hit their mark. Or maybe there isn’t a mark, and he just stabs your metaphorical bullseye anyway.

You shuffle in place, skin prickling under his gaze. “Is there a reason we’re having this conversation?”

“Is there a reason we shouldn’t?”

You stare at your shoes, face hot. This is uncharted territory. The end-all-be-all of terrible conversations.

“Well for one, it’s terribly awkward, and two, I don’t see why you felt the need to call me a liar to my face.”

Buck pushes off the wall. “Okay, that’s not what I meant by that—“

“No, I think you meant what you said.”

He sighs. “Can we start over?”

“Why?”

“Because I feel like you have this misconception about me, and it would really suck if a pretty girl didn’t like me just because we got off on the wrong foot.”

PRETTY?

“You think I’m pretty?”

You slap a hand over your mouth. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”

He smirks, a mischievous thing pulling at his lips. “No, I think you meant what you said.” He says, mimicking your earlier words.

You press your hands into your face, exhaling hard.

“Well, if your goal was to make me uncomfortable, you’ve definitely succeeded.”

“Aw, that’s no good. That’s the opposite of what I wanted.”

The gears in your brain turn.

“You came here… because you wanted me to be more comfortable around you?”

He snaps his fingers. “Ding ding ding!”

You frown. “So your plan to make me more comfortable around you was to call me a liar and purposefully get under my skin?”

Your words hang in silence for a moment.

“Well when you put it like that—“

“Is there another way to put it?”

“The plan was to get you to see that nothing bad is gonna happen if you stop doing that face-lying-thing. I mean, you haven’t been doing it for the duration of this conversation and the world hasn’t ended, right?”

You look away. “That’s because I can’t pretend with you. It always falls apart. You freak me out.”

His brows furrow. “I freak you out?”

“Yes!” You snap whipping your head back to face him, “Other people put out, like, signals, you know. What kind of people they like and dislike, and I pick up on them, and avoid the parts they don’t like and play up the parts they do like. But you don’t put out anything! I don’t know what you want.”

Buck is silent for several moments. It’s unnerving.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I just like you?”

You blink. Look away. Cross your arms.

“You know,” He continues, voice a little softer, “I have a habit of liking people just as they are. Bobby tells me it’s one of my better qualities.”

“Is planning difficult conversations one of your lesser qualities?”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“No.”

It’s easier to focus and talk about the less serious parts of this entire situation than even think about what he just said.

“How about this,” He says after you don’t speak again. “If you’re gonna fake something, or pretend you feel one way about something, you have to come tell me the truth about how you really feel.”

“Well that sounds terrible. What do you get out of it?”

He smiles, folding his hands behind his back. “You agree to let me take you on a date.”

Your face is practically on fire. Evan Buckley is asking you on a date. Buck is asking you on a date.

“Oh.”

That’s all you manage to get out. Oh.

He frowns. “Are you oka—“

You smash your face into your hands, hiding your flushed and flustered face from view. “Just— just give me a second.”

You attempt to slow your racing heart, all to aware of the fact that Buck is still in the room, still looking at you.

“…Can you turn around?”

You hear a quiet little huff, then the shuffling of footsteps, signifying he is in fact no longer looking at you.

“If I’d known you’d be this excited at the idea—“

“Shut up or I’ll say no.”

He just hums, voice teasing. “I don’t think you will.”

“I might.”

“Mm. Nope.”

“I could.”

“You won’t.”

“I won’t,” You grumble, dropping your hands. “Okay fine, I’ll do it, but when I tell you… stuff, you don’t get to make fun of me for whatever it is.”

“I really think you have the wrong idea of who I am as a person.”

“I’ve seen how you make fun of Eddie.”

“Well, that’s Eddie. It’s like, bro code.”

“Ew.”

“Having friends is gross?”

“Yes. Get out of my office.”

He turns around, grabbing his chest, feigning pain. “Oh the hurt. The pain.”

“You’ll survive, I’m sure. You’re a big boy.”

Okay what the fuck are you saying right now. Can’t god just strike you down? Can’t some old water damage cause the ceiling to come down on you?

Buck takes it in stride, laughing loudly, though if you look close, you can see a pink tinge to his cheeks.

“So when are you free for our date?”

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively over the word date, and you despise the flush it brings to your face. And ears. And neck.

“Um. Saturday?”

“Cool. You have my number, right?”

You nod.

“I’ll text you the details later this week. And hey, look at me.”

He waits until you look up. “You aren’t allowed to spend the rest of this week stressing about it, okay? It’s gonna be fun, and nice."

He opens the door to your office, ducking half out before turning around. “Remember: fun and nice.”

And then he’s gone. Then you’re just an idiot standing in your office, face hot and tingling.

He called you pretty.

—

Buck's request is difficult to follow through on. Like, sure, you agreed to it, but you still don't really understand why he wants to know this. The things that go on in your head that you don't tell anyone about. He said he got a date out of (a date, you're going on a date with Evan Buckley--) but is that really... anything?

Is it a real date? Or just some little fling? And why, exactly, is the date something he considers a fair trade? Like sure, he's hot -incredibly so- and every time you think about the date your heart speeds up and million questions run through your head, like will he pick you up, is he the type to bring flowers, where are you going for the date, all of those things.

You wince from your spot on the couch upstairs, papers strewn across the table in front of you.

"Dammit," You mutter, holding a finger up to the lip that you've chewed to shreds, now bleeding steadily, blood beginning to trickle down your chin.

A napkin appears in your line of sight, and you take it from Hen gratefully.

"Thanks."

She just nods. "Something on your mind?"

You blink, a little questioning.

"Your lip," She gestures to it. "You always chew it when you're thinking about something troubling. Is this about that new case?"

"Ah," You breathe, a small shiver running down your spine at her words. Being perceived is weird. "No actually. It's..."

You decide to be honest. News will get out anyway, and Hen appreciates truthfullness. "It's about Buck."

She raises an eyebrow. "Oh?"

You shuffle the papers in front of you, hands itching for something to do, "We're going on a date on Saturday."

"Oh!" She exclaims, settling on the couch across from you. "That's... surprising. I was under the impression you didn't really care for him."

Your face heats. "That's kind of why we're going on the date. He wants to... make me more comfortable. Those were his words."

"Interesting method."

You shrug. "It's Buck."

Hen nods, a chuckle escaping her lips. "I'm guessing you're not so sure about it?"

"It's not that. I just," you debate your next words carefully, weighing the options, wondering if you should even say them, but Hen's face is open and non-judgmental, and she knows when not to gossip.

"I haven't been on a date in awhile," You admit, "Or many at all, really. I don't know what to expect."

Your hands still on the papers. "I... don't do well when I don't know what to expect."

Hen nods. "I get it. But I can tell you with absolute certainty that Buck will do everything in his power to make the date as 'comfortable'," She does finger quotes around the word, "As possible. It took him a couple tries to get here, but. He's got a good heart."

You can't help the small frown at her words. "I know."

Hen tilts her head, squinting. "Do you? Cause it seems like you aren't so sure."

Smile. Laugh.

"Well," You laugh a small, breathy thing. "In my experience, no one is that nice."

Hen snorts. "Okay, true. But Buck's been through a lot. What he may lack in tact he makes up for in earnest effort."

She stands, and levels you with a look you try hard not to whither behind. "Give him a chance. And try not to break his heart."

You smile, hoping it doesn't look as brittle as it feels. "I'll try not to."

Though I'm not sure he'll be the one getting his heart broken.

--

Buck is careful not to bother you too much at work. He still sets you on edge in that "I see through you" way of his, but he's right- nothing terrible has happened since your conversation. If anything, he's almost... gentler, in his good natured ribbing and such. He's actually rather attentive.

"Okay," He murmurs next to you at the table, most of the others finished with their food , plates cleared and being washed. "You've got your fake smile on, so spill."

You elbow him. "Cool it, Buckley."

"Great meal, Cap!" You call out to the Captain, who sends you a quick smile from the sink.

You spear a stem of asparagus prepared honestly perfectly by Bobby, and lean over to Buck. "Fine. You really wanna know?"

"Uh, yeah."

You take a huge bite, smiling as you swallow. "I hate asparagus."

Buck's eyebrows shoot up. "Are you serious? That's such a small thing to care about."

You glance up to ensure nobody's eavesdropping. "Bobby works really hard on everything he makes! I don't want any of it to go to waste or to seem unappreciative."

"Okay, we're really going to have to have a talk about your perception of everyone," He elbows you back, "Come on. Bobby would not be offended if you don't eat the vegetables because you don't like asparagus period. It's not like you're even saying you don't like his cooking!"

You take another bite. Only A few left. "Better safe than sorry."

"Stop eating them--"

"I have to finish them!"

"Something wrong over there?" Bobby's voice rings out over the kitchen.

"Nope!" You call back.

"Actually," Buck starts, ignoring your furious elbowing, "Our little investigator over here doesn't like asparagus."

Bobby tilts his head with a smile. "Why didn't you say something?"

Your stomach lurches. Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-- "I... didn't want you to be offended?"

"Why would I be offended that you don't like asparagus?"

"Because you cooked it?"

He shakes his head. "Not how things work around here. If you don't like something, you don't have to eat it."

Your face feels like it's on fire and your palms are sweating and you kind of feel a little nauseous. But that might be the asparagus. "Right. Okay. Thanks."

Bobby goes back to loading the dishwasher, and the others are no longer paying attention, so you lower your forehead to the table, grateful that Buck moves your plate away before your head can meet your now unfinished vegetables.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because asparagus is a dumb thing to be worried about," He says, voice light and cheery.

"It was a valid concern," You mumble.

"Maybe in your head. But not quite in reality," He rubs your back consolingly a few times, though all the action does is rile you up more. You're suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you're still sitting here and you actually can't see if the others are still looking and oh god maybe Bobby is upset because you're an adult, you should've known that and--

"I can physically feel how tense you just got."

Oh. Right. His hand is still on your back.

"Relax," He drags out the word, his voice low and deep, "No one is going to spontaneously hate you. I sure don't."

"You don't count."

"Mm, how come?"

You're glad your face is currently hidden by the table, because you flush when you mumble the next words.

"Cause you think I'm pretty."

"I do," He amends, "But I'm not sure that discounts my opinion. IF anything, it doubles it."

"That's not how that works."

"It's not?"

"No."

He leans in, his breath tickling your ear. "Prove me wrong, then."

--

Saturday approaches and your anxiety increases. Buck had in deed texted you the details -which did, actually, make you feel better, knowing a bit of what to expect and having it in writing.

When Saturday arrives and the clock inches closer to the time he said he'd pick you up, you start to question if any of this was a good idea.

Everything collapses when you have to pick an outfit. Nothing seems right- everything is either too much or not enough. You blink the tears out of your eyes because you spent too long on your makeup to ruin it, and Buck's gonna be here soon and you need to just pick something--

A knock sounds at your door and you gasp. Shit.

You rush to the front door, and wrench it open.

"Hi I'm so sorry I'm not ready yet- oh my god are those flowers?"

Buck takes the rush of words in stride, smiling and holding the bouquet out to you. "They are."

You take the flowers with reverence, the gentle, floral aroma soothing your senses.

"Are... you okay?"

You blink, not realizing that tears had begun to well up in your eyes again. "What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. I'm a little... frazzled."

His gaze darts down. "Is that why you don't have pants on?"

You're almost one hundred percent sure you burst into flames right then and there. And if you don't, you seriously hope you do.

"Oh my god- don't look, I'll be right back, uh, please come inside and close the door!"

You race back into your room and shut the door, throwing on the closest pair of pants- which happen to be the fuzzy, old, candy heart-print pajama pants you took on three hours ago when you started getting ready.

You step back out, now sporting a wonderful outfit consisting of your black, rather nicely fitting going out top and fluffy pajama pants.

"I'll be ready in about fifteen minutes, sorry about the," You pause, swallowing your embarrassment, "Lack of pants."

He chuckles, laughing that nice little Buck laugh that settles your nerves a bit. "Hey, I wasn't complaining. I asked for the real you and this has all been very real."

Your never-ending flush revives itself as he speaks. "I"m really sorry, I'm usually more put together than this, I promise."

He takes a step toward you. "Remember why we're going on this date?"

A beat passes.

Buck takes another step. "To make you more comfortable with me. And the team, but mostly me."

You laugh a little, a nervous thing.

"But you don't seem very comfortable right now." His hands rise to the your waist, sliding down to your hips.

"Sorry," You say on instinct.

He huffs. "Still don't think you're getting the point of this. Okay, what was the big stressor of tonight, besides the actual date part?"

You look down at your feet. "My outfit."

"Well," He says, squeezing your waist and very clearly enjoying the little squeak you let out at the action, "Then why don't we sollve that by..."

Your heart siezes. Oh god, you're not ready to sleep with him, you haven't had your everything shower because it was only the first date and you didn't think--

"...Staying in tonight? I can order some takeout and we can watch a movie."

Oh.

"But your reservation--"

"Can be called and cancelled," He soothes. "I only want to do things you're comfortable with. That was the whole point of this date."

Later, after you both stuffed your faces with takeout graciously ordered by Buck, and both of you cuddled up on the couch (!) you let yourself speak.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Sorry for freaking out earlier," You curl your arm around his bicep, face smashed into the side of it while you (pretend) to watch the movie. "Thanks for... this. And the flowers."

"You really like those flowers, huh?"

"Mhm. They're really pretty. No one's ever gotten me flowers before."

"What? No way."

"Well. I haven't ever gotten flowers from a date or boyfriend," You stumble over the word boyfriend, "But like, you know. Graduations and stuff."

"Guess we're going to have to fix that, then."

"We are?"

He raises a brow. "You didn't think I was gonna stop at one date, did you?"

"Well it was kind of a mess."

He shrugs. "On one of my first dates, I choked on bread and my date at the time had to perform a tracheotomy with a ballpoint pen."

You gape at him. "Those are real?"

He traces a finger over the thin, silver scar on his throat. "Yep. So trust me, this date turned out fine. I actually uh,"

He flushes a little, a dusting of red on his cheeks. "I actually really enjoyed tonight."

You chew your lip, nervous and scared but all the sudden deciding that you're going to get over yourself and do something. No matter how small.

You stare at the end credits. "You wanna watch another movie?"

"Absolutely. More takeout?"

"I don't know how you can even think about eating more. But I do have popcorn in the pantry."

He presses a quick, soft little kiss to your cheek. "Perfect."

₊˚⊹♡

[cas-couture]

cas couture.

cas couture is an upcoming community-based sim magazine focused on fashion. what sets cas couture apart is that we will not allow permanently paywalled cc to be featured in the magazine and aim to highlight the numerous, talented cc creators in the community :)

hiring/recruiting.

we want YOU! yes, YOU! 🫵

as cas couture is community driven, we need YOUR participation!

( more info under the cut !!! )

HOW DOES RECRUITING WORK?

we recruit on a monthly basis-- as in after each issue is published, we refresh and recruit again for the following month!

this is to keep it fun and respect everyone's time outside of tumblr! we understand scheduling needs change from month to month, theme to theme :)

for example, we are currently recruiting for our APRIL issue. if you enjoy working with us, you would simply fill out the form again when we recruit for MAY :)

RECRUITING OCCURS ON A ROLLING BASIS UP UNTIL THE PUBLISHING DEADLINE! You could sign up literally 24 hours before the publishing deadline and submit your beautiful magazine spread!

WHAT DOES THIS POSITION ENTAIL?

JOB TITLE: FASHION EDITOR.

create a minimum ONE PAGE magazine spread (dimensions would be provided to you) highlighting OUTFITS or CUSTOM CONTENT CAS PIECES (that are freely available)-- hair, makeup, accessories, anything!! the world is your oyster :)

there would be an overarching theme that would be provided to relate the outfits to! we're trialling the theme idea :)

JOB TITLE: LIFESTYLE EDITOR.

as this is a magazine-- and its primary focus is fashion-- fashion is a lifestyle :) if you would like to highlight items or decor or some sort of other .package that has elevated your experience-- your spread can also focus on this too! it can be in the form of an advertisement/ lifestyle edit-- its totally up to you!

this position would also require you to contribute minimum ONE PAGE to the issue :)

an overarching theme would be provided as guidance!

JOB TITLE: COMMUNITY AND CULTURE EDITOR.

there will also be a COMMUNITY SIGHTINGS/GOSSIP page (which won't involve actual gossip) but local simblr stories, bachelorette challenges, pack reviews, etc.! this would be a cute way to get simblr rolling again :)

this position would also require you to contribute minimum ONE PAGE to the issue :)

WHAT ARE THE REQUIREMENTS TO CREATE FOR C.C.?

you must be 18+ to apply

there will be a deadline to submit your content by, just because it'll be a big group effort! no hard feelings and no penalties if you're unable to get it in by the deadline, it might not be "published" in that issue :)

this is for fun!!!! pls remember that :) and also pls don't be zionists or trumpies or homophobes or racist or anything else awful because :( and that'll be another reason why we can't have nice things :(

literally all that is required of you is that you submit your magazine spread to me by the deadline :) and we're all set!

this is truly a passion project :) come join us!!!!!

okay, so, i'm interested. what do i do?

apply using our form here!

you'll hear back from @milkteatrait (either from this account or from their personal one) within 24-48 hours with the month's theme (moodboard, inspo)! so please make sure your messages are open (or in the form, provide an alternative contact method!)

april's recruiting deadline (you must fill out the form by): april 10.

april's publishing deadline: april 11.

if this gets a lot of traction, we might possibly do a bimonthly issue and build off the momentum!

we have so many ideas about magazine covers, designs, potential sim story advertising, CC creator spotlights!! we just need the support! <3

asking da community for some support <3

as this is totally a community project, I'm (I'm gonna drop the we here) going to tag a few big names/ creators/ simblrs in the community to help get the word out!!!! <3 I'm sorry if u guys hate being tagged for this kinda stuff!!!!!

@sentate @aharris00britney @daylifesims @caio-cc @clumsyalienn @dogsill @serenity-cc @twisted-cat @margotaspen @simstrouble @ophernelia @simsimulation @magnoliadale @kashisun @rottengurlz @flirtygh0ul @orbveil @mmfinds @alt-lanaccfinds @tricoufamily @birdietrait @orbitsuns @amanda-plays @neighborhoodstories @neishroom @keloshe-sims @thebramblewood @nsves @nolan-sims @surely-sims and there's so, so many more simblrs!!!! I'd tag everybody if I could!!! I tried to tag everyone who came across my dashboard!!!

also I'd super appreciate any reblogs and sharing to help get the word out!!! <333 thank you to everyone!!!!!!

[bunny-jpeg]

little mouse - simon "ghost" riley

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x reader rating: 18+summary: Simon Riley never thought about legacy. The idea of carrying on his ‘lineage’. He was a man on a mission, there was no time to settle down and have a couple of brats running around. The idea of being a father didn’t really sound too enticing, in a way he didn’t think he’d even be a GOOD father. So he simply ignored the idea. That was until he met you. tags: dark themes, breeding/pregnancy kink, dub/non-con, he won't take no as an answer, mating press, dirty talk, dacryphilia, delusional!ghost, choking, rough sex, 3.3k words

a/n: this is a work of fiction. read at your own risk.

join my discord! (18+)

 

 Simon Riley never thought about legacy. The idea of carrying on his ‘lineage’. He was a man on a mission, there was no time to settle down and have a couple of brats running around. The idea of being a father didn’t really sound too enticing, in a way he didn’t think he’d even be a GOOD father. So he simply ignored the idea. That was until he met you.

The cute little private that scurried around base like a little mouse. And while Simon had never caught a mouse, there was no time like the present to do so. You were simply so small, he wondered if he’d even fit inside of you. But he had plans if it didn’t work like that. But, he’d make sure he could at least get the tip in. He wanted to feel that sweet heat around him.

Such a fragile little thing, he could easily break you. One wrong move and you’d be painted black and blue. If he grabbed you too hard, he could break your arm, smack your ass too hard and leave you with broken blood vessels. There was just too much that he could do. And a sick part of him wanted to do it all. But his main drive was to make sure that the womb was stuffed.

When he has some alone time, he’d often fantasize about you. He thought of your sweet scent, your tight cunt. The noises you’d make, how flushed you’d get. As he pleasured himself, he thought about bullying your cunt. He wanted to make you scream as he filled you to your brim.

He wanted to bruise your spongy cervix and make sure no other man could ever paint your insides white. That was a task for him and him alone. He’d make sure that you wouldn’t dare to THINK about other men. You were his and he’d do everything in his power to make sure that you were reminded of that. Even if you didn’t know it yet.

The sheer thought of you changing on a fundamental level to carry his child. The change in every sense of the word, from single to a mother. The leftover pregnancy fat at your hips, the heaviness of your breasts. Even your brain would change. And the thought of his little mouse swollen with his (many) children, left him aching for more.

Even as he finished on his fist, with his breath ragged, he yearned for you. And it was only a matter of time before he went mouse trapping.

-

Turns out he could catch a mouse with a nice treat. He had found out about your sweet tooth and led you back to his quarters. He had enough when he watched you take the sweet out of his palm with your mouth. His blood boiled with a sexual rush.

With the candy in your mouth, he grabbed you by the hair and titled your head back so you met face to face with him. His voice was low as he said, “You think you can tease me?”

You whimpered, “It was a joke, lieutenant.” So vulnerable, so small.

He chuckled darkly, “I think you’re lying. I see you around base, and I have to say I think you’re teasing’ me. Makin’ me look like an idiot as you run around base. I bet you’re sleeping’ with other men. Slut.”

You whined, “Please! I’m not!”

 “I think you are.” He heard you bite down on the candy in fear. He got closer and started to pull at your pants. He felt his cock twitch in his own pants as he struggled to get your clothes off. He swore he could hear your heartbeat from where he was. You were scared, good.

  “Please, Lieutenant Ghost. Please!” You practically squeaked. You tried to push him away but he only got closer. He dragged you as he took your pants off.

He grabbed your hair once more and glared down at you. His chest rapidly rose and fell. “Be good, little mouse. You better take me like a good girl, because if you don’t you’ll tear.”

You had tears in your eyes and felt him wipe them away with the calloused palm of his other hand. You sniffled, “Please, sir. I’m not trying to tease you. Don’t hurt me.”

He delicately kissed your forehead, “I could never hurt you. But I can’t promise that my cock won’t stretch you out. That’s why you gotta be good for me.” His voice was a low purr as he laid you out on the bed. The bag of candies had been cast to the side as he got on top of you.

You swallowed back fear, the tears came and he licked a stray one away off of your cheek. For a moment you thought about running to the closest commander. But who was going to believe you? You were nothing but a mouse, and Simon was the phantom that could burn this entire base down if he so desired. No one would believe that the shadow, the ghost, would ruin a sweet little private.

You felt your throat tighten as you let out a quiet sob.

He got you out of your clothes, you were more agreeable now. You understood that you were under Simon. You were his little mouse. The one who had every intention of knocking up, even if you didn't exactly consent to it.

The idea of you swollen with his child turned him on, it made his stomach tighten from the mental image. He loomed over you, his breathing heavy from the course of euphoria in his system.

A life away from combat, somewhere his precious wife could have their family. He'd keep you full, all you had to do was keep giving him little brats. He grit his teeth as he stared down at you.

You were shaking like a leaf, you were scared of what was going to come next. He already had you naked. You felt your heart in your throat, you couldn't even scream for help.

  “My mouse.' he said, ”So small.“ He brushed his clothed cock up against you and shuddered, ”I could break you and it wouldn't even be that hard.“ His voice was low, ”You need to be kept safe. Somewhere quiet.“

You frowned, ”I am strong.“

The corner of his mouth turned upwards, ”I bet. I bet everyone has told you your entire life that you were a strong woman who didn't need any man.“ He pinned your arms over your head, ”But I know better. You'd be happier with a husband and a big piece of land.“ He kissed your bare neck.

You whimpered and squirmed in his grasp, but there was no escaping him. Simon Riley had gotten his talons into you and he was not letting go. You squirmed more as you felt his hot breath against your neck.

  ”These hands aren't meant to kill.“ He growled, you could feel the calluses on his palm, ”They're meant to wrangle my kids and bake bread.“ He chuckled softly.

  ”I can kill.“ You said it was almost too innocent.

He barked out a loud, which made you jump, ”Sure thing, sweetheart. I bet it would be so easy for you to get out of this mess and fight me off.“ He pressed his hardened cock further against you, ”That's probably why you're fuckin' other men. In the hopes they'd protect ya. But don't worry, little mousey, I'll keep you safe.“

You whimpered, ”I never slept with anyone on base.“

He looked at you once more, “Well. If that's true then I guess my job will be a little easier. Knowing' that my swimmers are the only ones in you.”

  “Please, Sir.” You whimpered, “We can pretend like this never happened. I promise not to tell a soul!”

He laughed again, those sharp eyes glared down at you, “Why would we want to pretend this didn't happen? Do you not want to remember the night we made our first brat?”

You felt a twist in your gut. You had gone off birth control when you joined so you didn't have to worry about maintaining the schedule of taking it. Without any other protection there was a high chance that he could actually knock you up.

You tried to kick him off but he was just solid muscle that it was like kicking a wall. You started to cry which only made the man pinning you down groan.

  “Cryin' is not going to help, lovie. If I don't get you now, you'll slip away and into another man's arms. Now relax, I'll take care of everything.”

He took off his own clothes, the sight of his large cock made you freeze. He chuckled at the expression on your face. Once he was bare he kept you pinned to the bed once more.

 “Like what you see?” He asked.

You looked up to him again, there was worry in your eyes. You swallowed before you spoke, “it's not going to fit.” You felt a surge of anxiety rush through you. Something like that was not going to fit in your tight hole. 

He nodded, “It will. Pussies can take a hell of a beatin'. I told you if you were good I'd make sure that I took my time so I didn't tear you.“

  ”It will tear anyway.“ You replied.

  ”I wouldn't worry about your little head, my little mouse. Just don't tense when I put it in.“ He replied as he rubbed the top of your head before he got back on his heels and grabbed your hips.

You felt so perfect in his grasp. Sometimes sso delicate and tiny against him. You were perfect, even if you were so small. Maybe he wouldn't bruise you. But he would still breed you, bruise that poor cervix of yours.

 “You're a good girl.” He said, “You know how to behave.” He brushed his fingers through your hair. You gazed up at him with concern, “I'll make sure nothing hurts you.”

You braced for impact as he went to guide his cock into you. You squeezed your face and tensed up. It made him groan as he couldn't even get the tip in.

  “Now, girlie. You better relax, or I'm finding another hole to fuck and I don't have any lube.” He growled.

You held onto the bed under you and took a shaky breath. This was happening. The litenutant was going to fuck you lie a second rate whore in the hopes of getting you knocked up for his sick carnal need to breed.

He watched you relax before he tried again. He shuddered as he managed to get an inch in. It felt like the wind was knocked out of him.

You looked up at him once more, trying to keep yourself together to not squeeze too tight. You were being violated by a much larger man, but yet you were soaked between your legs. The more he pushed in, the more you felt it in the deepest parts of you.

By the time he had all of his cock inside of you, it felt like it was in the back of your throat. He was so big, you didn't know how he did not get light headed when he got an erection.

  “Good girl.” He growled. He hunched over you and kept you pinned to the bed by your hips. He loved the chubbiness to your thighs and hips, a squishiness that made his heart skip. You were a perfect woman.

  “Please pull out.” You gave it one last feeble attempt.

He chuckled as he gazed into your eyes, “No, no. Gotta add a little more fat to your belly. Gotta keep the brats nice and protected.” He leaned in further and began to make out with you as he moved you so your knees were to your chest and your pussy was facing upwards.

He had you squished between his large body and the creaky bed. The kiss was heavy and wet, his tongue explored your mouth. While in other scenarios it would've been sweet, but not when the power dynamic was uneven and you had little say in what was happening.

But he thought that the position was perfect, a way to make sure every drop stayed in you. The thought made his cock twitch inside of you.

  “Ah, Sir.” You whimpered.

He chuckled, his lips close to you. But then he pulled you back in for another searing kiss. His pace began to pick up as he kept you under him.

You were becoming so perfect. He couldn't wait to mark your insides with his cum. To paint you as his. Hopefully today would be his lucky day and it would be the day he got you pregnant.

You whimpered against him and laid there. His cock was so thick, it felt like someone was trying to fuck you with a bottle. Every hard thrust made the air leave you lungs, and it was hard to put more air in as he kept kissing you.

He wanted to keep you quiet. He didn't need his wife to squeal on him. He couldn't let the mouse leave the trap. The bed creaked under you and you breathed rapidly through your nose.

When he pulled away, he placed a strong hand over your neck and kept you pinned to the bed. You made a strangled noise as he picked up the pace. You could feel the blood rush to your head and he thought that was perfect.

His cock was heavy inside of you, his balls slapped against your ass as he kept you in the mating press. His erection slammed against your womb, you knew you'd ache for days.

This was everything he hoped for.

You let out another strangled noise and he told you to keep quiet. You tried to complain but he tightened his hand a little tighter around your throat.

  “No one needs to know how well you take cock.” He growled.

  “Please, Sir... Mister Ghost, please.” You whimpered.

  “No, no, my little mouse. I caught you fair and square. All it took were a few candies and I had you right where I needed ya. You're too trusting.” He said, “You should be somewhere safe with a man who can protect you.”

You pouted at him, “Please. I am strong.”

  “I know you are. Only a strong woman can give me kids. But you are just a little mouse. And I'm going to eat you up and breed you.” The last of the sentence dripped off his tongue like poison as he continued to thrust.

You felt every thrust in your bones, every inch of his cock stretched your pussy. It was painful but your body betrayed you and found pleasure in it. It felt sickening but there was no stopping the ghost.

It was hard to breathe with your knees to your chest. With him rearranging your abdomen. His attempts to batter your cervix left you feeling achy. It hurt but it also made your head swim with a sick wanton lust that made you almost angry with yourself.

Maybe it was a way to rationalize what he was doing to you. But as you stared at his scarred face, those dark eyes gazing at you as he pushed up into your body. You thought to yourself, at least if you had a husband like him, you'd always be safe. And maybe your kids would be cute.

It Was his words getting into your mind but it was hard to think of much else as he abused your sex. His cock invaded your womb and shaped it so it was perfect for his cock.

  “Don't worry, sweetheart, you'll get looser after the first few kids.' He grumbled in your ear as he continued to move.

You squirmed as you felt your backside grow numb from the position, ”Please, sir.“

  ”Be good.“ He said gruffly.

  ”Don't get me pregnant.“

  ”Too late.“ He said quietly, ”You're mine. You, me and all the brats you can pump out. You're not going anywhere. No need for all this training, just be a good wife and let your husband fuck you.“

It was as if Simon was delusional. But it was hard to keep a man like that away, not when they possessed so much power. He could snap your neck or break your legs if he really tried.

You should've never followed him back. You shouldn't have been such a silly, stupid little mouse and gotten yourself stuck in a trap. Because this was what it was, baby trapping.  

He was going to trap you with him. There was no escaping after this, even if you weren't pregnant. He'd simply take what he wanted and man handle you into sex again. He was a man on a mission, just like on the field.

The thrusts became erratic, he could feel the twist of pleasure in his gut as he fucked you. His breathing grew heavier as did yours. He licked his lips at the sight of the bruises on your body from how he handled you.

There was no denying what he did.

  ”Gonna be a good girl and let me breed you. Fuck all that need to be independant out of you.“ He growled, ”Make you a nice petty, pregnant wife.“

You nodded meekly, your cheeks were flushed, your body was bruised inside and out. You were going to be sore even before you found out you were pregnant.

 ”Good girl.“ He patted the side of your face, ”Good fuckin' girl.“

He continued to thrust into you, the bed moved against the wall with each thrust. The heat between you two left you hot all over.

You panted wildly and squeezed your eyes shut as your body betrayed you once more and you orgasmed. You clung onto the covers under you and let out a sharp exhale as you came.

Your cunt tightened around his cock and it was enough to send him over the edge and climax himself. As he rode out his orgasm, his pace slowed down. Soon he was still with his softened, yet still impressive cock inside of you.

You whined as you tried to lay fully out of the bed. But he kept your hips up to make sure every drop slid into your womb. He gripped your hips and started to move once more.

  ”No, please. I've had enough.“

  ”Too bad, lovie. I've gotten a taste for you and I'm not stopping until my balls are empty.“ He slapped your ass and you whined.

So much for a future in the military. You guessed you'd have to live with a military wife.

-

It had been a year since you left the military, since then your belly had gotten an impressive shape to it. It took a lot of work, but you ended up pregnant with Simon's baby.

Currently you were facing the door of your bedroom with your pussy stretched around your husband's cock. His hands were on your belly.

Large calloused hands were feeling up the slope of your pregnant belly. He loved the heft to it. He was told it was going to be quite a large baby when it comes out.

 ”Ah, sir.“ You gasped.

Some habits die hard.

  ”That's it, sweetheart. Keep workin' those hips.“ He encouraged. He groaned through a tense jaw as he felt the underside of your belly.

 ”Please, ah!“

 ”Perfect.“ He groaned, ”Gonna keep you pregnant for a long time.“ He chuckled softly to himself.

You whimpered, ”Please, I love you.“ You sounded so desperate.

At the end of the day, the little mouse had learned to love her trap. And in return she got a nice round belly to show her love.

xoxo, bunny

[airosuiren]

𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱’𝔰 𝔏𝔢𝔣𝔱 𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔖𝔢𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲

A/N: This part right here? This is where the story shifts from pain to power. Where [Y/N] stops chasing apologies—and starts building empires. This isn’t about them "realizing your worth." It’s about you realizing you never needed their permission in the first place. The applause is hollow. The recognition comes too late. And our girl? She doesn’t reach back. She rises. Get ready to watch them mourn the ghost they made—and realize too late that survival looks a lot like greatness.

Thank You @arislia for this Idea!

@bunniotomia, I AM SORRY FOR NOT TAGGING YOU, ILY.

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 1, 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 2

The moment the League put their survival in your hands, something shifted. Not in them. In you.

You felt it when Bruce didn’t interrupt you. When Diana called your analysis “brutal and brilliant.” When Clark told you he trusted your judgment more than the AI system they'd built.

Suddenly, everyone wanted to listen. Wanted your insight, your damage control, your vision.

Funny how people only see you when you become useful.

The plan worked. Your strategy went live—waves of disinformation, fake leaks, public interviews. You weaponized truth like a scalpel. You peeled back the hysteria and made it bleed your version of the story.

And it worked.

Gotham didn’t burn. The League wasn’t outed. The world stayed intact.

But nothing in you celebrated.

Because the price wasn’t paid by the League. It was paid by the kid who sat at the edge of the Batcave years ago, hoping for a word. A nod. A chance.

They gave you credit now. Applause. Praise.

Too late. It was always too late.

Tim said he was sorry. Dick offered to reconnect. Damian looked like he wanted to ask how you’d done it all—but couldn’t bring himself to.

And Bruce?

He said, “You did good.”

You wanted to laugh.

You did great. You saved their world. And it still felt hollow.

Because part of you was still in that Manor, starving for warmth. Part of you still remembered the cold shoulder, the locked door, the day Alfred stopped checking if you came down for breakfast.

The world could sing your name. The League could hand you titles, roles, endless offers.

It didn’t matter.

Because you weren’t theirs anymore.

You walked away.

From Gotham. From the Manor. From the past.

You accepted the Kents’ invitation. Helped expand the Queens’ foundation. Took over policy initiatives that reshaped cities.

People called you a visionary.

But you were still just a kid who survived being forgotten.

And that pain? It never leaves. It just sharpens you. Refines you. Burns everything soft out of you until all that’s left is brilliance and bite.

You didn’t need them to love you.

You learned how to do that yourself.

And that?

That was the scariest thing they ever saw.

EPILOGUE (DARKER VERSION): The Ghost They Built

Years passed.

You didn’t return for funerals. Or birthdays. Or anniversaries. You sent flowers once—anonymous. Bruce knew it was you. So did Alfred.

You never answered their calls.

They watched your life unfold through screens. News cycles. Feature articles. TED Talks and awards and photos of you shaking hands with world leaders.

You were a household name. A force. Gotham’s own myth—not for crime, not for tragedy. For power.

Sometimes, Bruce would sit alone in the cave and reread your strategy dossier. The one that saved them all. The one they never framed or displayed.

Sometimes, Damian would stare too long at a photo of you and quickly look away.

And sometimes, Alfred would make tea for two. Out of habit.

But you? You stopped looking back.

Because ghosts don’t haunt the places they escaped.

They haunt the people who let them die there.

𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔲𝔰 (𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓮𝓭)

(Based on this prompt link)

You stayed.

You stayed in the Manor even when it rotted you from the inside out. You stayed on patrol even when they benched you emotionally. You trained harder. Longer. Not because you were loved. Because you were angry.

Angry that no one cared. Angry that you had to prove you were worth breathing their air.

You became a ghost in your own home. A silent weapon in the background. They forgot you were there—until they needed a soldier.

And when the new threat surfaced—a dark coalition of villains—Justice League level—you fought beside them. Bleeding for them. Dying for them in slow, unnoticed ways.

And they didn’t even notice when you were missing.

It wasn’t even a complicated plan.

A misstep. A call that went unanswered. An empty alley. A chloroform cloth and no backup.

The "League of Villains" (or whatever flashy name they called themselves) didn't want you because you were powerful.

They wanted you because you were forgotten.

Because what better bait than the child no one even remembered was missing?

It played on every Justice League screen.

Static. Then—clarity.

You tied to a chair. Wrists shredded against restraints. Bombs wired around you like a grotesque necklace. Mouth taped. Muzzle strapped tight.

Blood dried at your temple. Your body slumped but alive. Barely.

The Joker stood behind you—grinning like a nightmare.

He pointed the camera down, zooming in on your eyes.

Eyes that looked too much like Martha Wayne’s.

"Look familiar, Batsy?" he crooned, fingers digging into your cheeks like a puppeteer. "Missed one of your little ducklings. Tsk, tsk. Family man, my ass."

He laughed.

Then leaned in closer to your face.

"They don't even remember you're missing, do they?"

You blinked. Once. Twice.

And in that moment? Everyone watching saw it.

The brokenness. The hollow, aching scream you couldn't make.

They tried.

Diana. Clark. Barry. Bruce.

Every satellite. Every lead.

Too late.

Always too late.

The last thing you saw was the red digital countdown reflected in Joker’s laughing eyes.

The last thing they saw was you— looking directly into the camera.

Unblinking. Silent. Waiting.

Boom.

The screen went dark.

There was no body to bury. No last words. No goodbyes.

Just ashes. And guilt that swallowed them whole.

They forgot you when you were alive.

They remembered you only when you were dust.

You didn’t haunt Gotham’s alleys.

You haunted them.

You became the silence between their victories. The guilt behind their smiles. The graveyard stitched into every mission they survived.

You were their second Jason.

But this time?

There would be no resurrection.

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓴'𝓼 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

The conference room smelled like panic and sweat.

The Justice League stared at the blackened monitor—the final static-flicker of the explosion still burned into the air like a brand.

The chair she had been strapped to was gone. She was gone.

And Clark Kent—the beacon of hope, the man who once believed in second chances, in forgiveness, in the good in everyone— stood like a storm barely contained.

His fists clenched. The windows trembled. The concrete under his boots spiderwebbed with cracks.

And no one spoke.

Because they knew. They knew he had warned them.

Two weeks ago.

"Where’s [Y/N]?" Clark’s voice had been calm then. Mild concern.

Bruce hadn’t even looked up from his work.

"Fine. Busy," he muttered.

Clark pressed. "I haven’t heard her on comms. Haven’t seen her in patrol rotations."

"Training elsewhere," Bruce clipped back. "Focus on the real threat."

Clark’s jaw tightened. He looked to Diana. To Oliver. To anyone.

But no one moved.

And Clark? He let it go. Because he thought—surely—they would notice if something was wrong.

Surely they loved her enough.

Now.

Clark turned, slow and deliberate, facing the Bat.

"You left her," he said, voice low and dangerous.

Bruce stood silent, fists tight at his sides.

"You forgot her," Clark growled. "You forgot your daughter."

His hands slammed the table. The entire room shook.

"Superman—" Diana started.

"No." His eyes burned. Blue ice. Wild rage. "Don’t ‘Superman’ me."

He pointed at Bruce.

"You left Jason to die. And now you've done it again."

Bruce's mouth tightened. He said nothing.

"And you," Clark spun to the others, his voice cracking with fury. "All of you—you let it happen."

No one spoke. No one could.

Because there wasn’t a single excuse in the world that could erase the truth.

Later, Clark would stand alone at the remnants of the transmission room.

The place smelled like burnt ozone. It smelled like regret.

He knelt—slowly, reverently—at the last place she had been seen alive.

And in the quiet, he whispered the only words he had left:

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have fought harder."

But the dead don't hear apologies.

And Superman— Superman would never forgive himself.

Not for this. Not for her.

Not ever.

A/N: This was never about being chosen. This was never about being welcomed back. This was about surviving what they did. About becoming something so sharp, so brilliant, so unstoppable — they could only watch from the outside. They didn’t lose you when you walked away. They lost you the day they made you feel like you had to earn your place at all. You didn’t become a ghost because you wanted to be feared. You became a ghost because they left you no other way to live. And now? Now you are the silence after the storm. The blade they forgot they forged. You are what they buried — And what will outlast them all.

—Your still-proud, still-scorched, always-rising author 🖤🔥

Taglist: @feral-childs-word, @trashlanternfish360, @astro-girly1, @suneaterscape, @thatcatladywrites, @arislia, @kittzu, @ottjhe, @tinybrie, @wpdarlingpan, @ryuushou, @simpingpandas, @lettucel0ver, @moonxmio, @kneelforloki, @sirenetheblogger, @xzmickeyzx, @ironsaladwitch, @lithiumval, @starsdotalk, @fortunatelydifferentqueen, @ocean-mochi

Let me know if I missed someone!

[ellacove]

❝ FREAKY ON CAMERA ❞

jjk!men x fem!reader ࿐ MDNI.

𝜗𝜚 𝐒𝐔𝐌. jjk men as famous p*rn stars making new content with a cute stranger

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. ft—toji, sukuna, gojo, smut, p in v, blowjob, missionary, doggy, exhibitionism, recording

──── SATORU GOJO、

when satoru met you, he had snuck into an empty cafe in hopes of hiding from paparazzi. you’re wearing an apron and an awfully angry expression when he finally notices you, your finger pointing at the ‘closed’ sign on the window. your words are drowned out, the only thing clouding his mind being how bad he wants to film his latest video right then and there and ruin you on camera for all his fans to see. now your apron is thrown on the floor somewhere along with both your bodies, hiding behind the front counter with gojo’s cock stuffed inside your cunt and his phone propped up next to you with the flash on. “help me come up with a title for this one” he insinuates tauntingly, smiling cockily as he licks his thumb before lowering it onto your swollen bud. you whine as if telling him to go on; too sweaty and tired to use your words as his hips do all the work for you. “how ‘bout “slutty cafe maid gets dicked down after her shift?”—hm?” he suggests confidentially, his hands squeezing bruises into the back of your legs as he pushes them even further down into your chest. “im not a maid, idiot.” you reply between breathes, turning your head to look at the camera. “and you can’t even tell it’s a cafe from this angle.”

──── TOJI FUSHIGURO、

toji met you at the gym. he doesn’t usually work out in public—but he’s thanking whatever god is listening that he chose today to do something different. you had the cutest black nike set on that went perfectly with his hair; he could only think about how good the match would look for a new video. “im a big fan actually,” you told him with a smile, your tongue licking a long stripe up the base of his cock after having dragged him into the shower stall after sharing a few looks. “really..” he questioned, his hand reaching down his pocket to pull out his phone. “then you don’t mind if i record this, do you?” you only looked up at him with those pretty eyes and hummed around his length in agreement, mouth too full to give him a proper answer. “i’ll be sure to tag you.” he mentioned as his head leaned back on the cold tile, and his free hand coming up to rest on the top of your head and guide you along his cock. “maybe even make a part two.”

──── RYOMEN SUKUNA、

sukuna doesnt get out much. he meets you for the first time when his staff sets up a meeting to go over his next film. you’re a well-known actress in the industry as well, and he’s been waiting decades to be paired up with you for a video. he feels a tightening in his pants when you mention how long you’ve wanted to work with him yourself, your hand coming to rest on his knee from underneath the table. he excuses the both of you not long after; insisting he needs to get familiar before the cameras start rolling next week. it’s not much later till he’s got one of your legs hiked up on a bathroom sink, panties pushed to the side and your cheek squished up against the mirror. “you got no idea how long ive waited for this pussy, girl.” he admits shamelessly as his hand grabs ahold of your chin to meet your eyes in the reflection, his breath catching in his throat at the small whine you let out. “’s even better than i imagined.”

[jemiswumbo]

bulletproof love (18+)

twitchstreamer!luke x reader

author’s note: omgg this oneshot took all my blood sweat and tears to produce. i am NOT a graphic designer. i do NOT normally write smut. but this idea had to come to fruition before i went insane. HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

title is from bulletproof love by pierce the veil. lyrics have no correlation but it IS a certified banger.

tags/warnings: smut!! minors dni. oral (m receiving). use of y/n. not proofread. kinda long. teeheehee etc.

i.

You met Luke Castellan at the grocery store.

He looked like a completely normal (albeit, very attractive) guy in his twenties. His dark curls fell slightly over his warm, chocolate brown eyes. A mischievous smirk was plastered across his cheeks, showing off a small dimple on the left side. He wore a simple hoodie and sweats as he perused the pasta aisle, picking up different jars of sauce and reading the labels absentmindedly. He did, however, have an interesting scar sitting jagged over his cheekbone, but it was so faint that you hadn’t noticed it until way later on.

You would have never guessed he was a near millionaire with close to a million social media followers. You would have never guessed he spent the majority of his life not at the grocery store, but rather streaming FPS and RPG games for an average of fifty thousand views at a time.

You would have never guessed he’d take a liking to you.

You, who worked part time at this very grocery store. You, who didn’t really know the first thing about video games, except that they were confusing and it was insane that some people could build ridiculously complex structures at a mind-boggling speed on Fortnite whilst also shooting with godly precision.

He had backed into you accidentally whilst you were restocking a shelf, causing you to drop a couple glass jars that cracked open upon impact with the floor. You apologized, even though you’d really done nothing wrong. He obviously thought you attractive (or maybe he just didn’t leave the house much?) because his idea of an apology was taking you out to some lavishly expensive dinner the next night.

The dinner was okay but the conversation is what got you hooked. He was so sweet and told you so many wild stories that had you laughing until your chest ached. He paid for the meal and held your hand on the drive home. When he dropped you off, he casually told you his Instagram handle and told you to shoot him a follow. You blushed, smiled, and scurried inside.

You just about died when you saw his profile.

ii.

It’s been about a year since you had started dating Luke Castellan, otherwise known as his twitch handle “SonofHermes.”

(“Because he’s the messenger god, right? In, like, Greek Mythology? And I felt like a damned messenger god when I was a moderator for four different discord servers and a twitch chat—“)

Luke’s twitch streams occured mostly every night, from 8pm to about 3am. He always began his streams with some FPS game (Overwatch, Valorant, CS:GO, or something similar). After a few hours he would swap over to a different game for his variety segment. His chat was hilarious. They loved to tease Luke and joke around with him and donate silly messages. And, of course, because Luke was so very attractive, a decent chunk of his fan base was dedicated towards swooning over his every word and look and smile.

You, honestly, never really minded. Mostly because Luke was yours. You were sure the thirsting from chat would diminish once they knew you were dating. But… you really, truly, had no desire to be in the public eye. Having nearly a million people know your name and your face was daunting and scary. You also had enough common sense to realize that some of his fans were probably batshit crazy and would send you hate and death threats for dating Luke. You were a part time employee and a student; you did not need another reason on top of that to have poor mental health.

Luke loved you unconditionally and that was all that mattered. You were perfectly content spending most evenings to yourself. He was a good boyfriend, though, and did schedule days off to take you out and show you incredible amounts of love and support. You were both very happy and secure in your relationship.

One particular evening, you were staying over at Luke’s apartment. It was a Friday, and you had no work tomorrow, so he bought alcohol and weed and selected a list of movies to marathon. It was basically your most ideal way to spend the weekend.

That was, until, Luke’s gamer friends messaged him on discord, begging him to join their Rust server to defend their group base.

Luke had met these friends through Twitch events and game conventions. There was Percy, who streamed with his girlfriend Annabeth. They were one of the most adored couples in the gaming community. They all lived in the same state, so Luke hung out with them pretty often. There was also Grover, who was Percy’s roommate and would join his streams from time to time. As well, there was Thalia, who was a huge advocate for women in eSports, and played in a professional league. Luke had introduced them too you a few months ago, and they all swore to help keep your relationship a secret.

The five of them often played different games together, as most of their fanbases consisted of the same people, so it really raked in the views and made for good content. Plus, it was just really fun. You knew how much Luke loved his friends and cherished the times they got to play together.

The Rust server was a recent hyperfixation that you were positive would fade once a new MMO came out to grab their attention. But, you were also aware of how much time and effort Luke had spent constructing this base of his.

“Go,” you said, noticing his confliction. “You can have one hour to play. Stream, too, so I can watch out here. But after that, you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said with his devilish grin. He kissed you hard, leaving a swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. He hurried off to his bedroom, where he kept his gaming setup, and shut the door.

You were fine with spending an hour alone. Flipping through Netflix, you cracked open a bottle of wine and relaxed into the sofa.

One hour went by fast. Luke didn’t return to the living room.

You picked up your phone and opened the Twitch app, clicking on Luke’s stream. He was currently in the middle of some intense adventure with Percy. Luke’s webcam was situated in the top left corner of the game feed, and he looked so cute and handsome under the glow of the monitor and the purple LED lights.

To be honest, the wine was getting to you. You felt such a strong desire to be near Luke and to feel him and be with him. He bit his lip on camera, deep in concentration, and that action alone had your heart rate increasing.

“Fuck it,” you said, turning off the TV and standing up from the couch. His hour was up, and it was time to take the matter into your own hands.

iii.

Luke enjoyed playing his games with the volume high in his headphones. It allowed him to feel like he was actually in the game, and unaware of the outside world. This also was an issue, because more often than not he would lose track of time and forget about his plans and scheduled events.

He just couldn’t help it — he loved video games. Currently, he was busy perfecting his base on Rust so it wouldn’t be broken into again. It took a lot of effort and concentration, and Percy and Grover dicking around and goofing off did nothing to help his focus.

So, it only made sense that he didn’t notice his bedroom door opening. The door wasn’t in frame on his camera, so he didn’t see it open, either. He didn’t notice it close. He didn’t notice you, getting down on all fours and crawling over to his desk setup.

He didn’t notice you, at all, until you put a hand on his leg.

Luke jumped a bit and glanced down, meeting your mischievous glance and the naughty smile on your cheeks.

“Uh, chat — sorry, gotta go to the bathroom, one sec —“ Luke rushed out. He shut off his camera and muted his mic, double checking that it was definitely muted by quickly scanning the latest messages in his chat:

He rolled his eyes at the messages, and pushed his chair back, glaring at you on the floor. “Baby, what the hell are you doing?!”

You smiled. “I was just missing you, is all.”

“So you snuck in — wait, shit, you said one hour. It’s been an hour hasn’t it?” Luke said, running a hand through his messy curls.

You nodded, and gave a weak shrug. “It’s okay, though. I think it would be fun if we also played a game of our own.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, feeling a blush form on his cheeks. “What’re .. what’re you suggesting?”

You unbuttoned your blouse and tossed to the floor, leaving you in a lacy black bra and your mini skirt. You let your fingers linger on the strap of your bra. “I’ll let you stream longer. But.. once you cum, you have to shut it off.”

“You want to blow me on stream?” Luke asked, incredulously. He could already feel himself start to harden at the thought of this ‘game’ of yours occurring.

“Like, secretly, though.” You said with a slight eye roll. “You can try to keep your composure for as long as you can, but you’ll be all mine for the rest of the night. Okay?”

Luke took a minute to ponder. If he somehow got caught… the consequences would be severe. His reputation would be tarnished. He’d lose his job and his income and the entire career he had worked so hard to build.

But on the other hand.. you looked really fucking sexy, staring at him with your doe-eyes, feigning innocence in the most seductive lingerie he’d ever seen you in.

“Fuck’s sake.” Luke pulled his chair back towards his desk. He tugged his sweatpants down to his ankles, giving you a face full of his half hard cock and his toned, muscular thighs. “You have to be quiet too, you little slut. I seriously cannot get caught.”

“Of course,” you replied, slightly moaning as you took his length into your hand. “You’re so incredibly attractive.”

“Shut up,” Luke said, adjusting his camera angle to absolutely ensure it cut off at his upper chest and nothing lower than that was visible. He took a deep breath and was about to rejoin his stream, when you began sucking him off. “Fuck!”

You pulled your lips off of him with a loud pop. “Come on, Lukey, you can last longer than that.”

“You’re mouth feels so fucking good though,” Luke groaned, threading his fingers through your hair. He took another deep breath and guided your head back to his cock, which was now fully hard and aching for your mouth. This time, when you licked up his shaft, he was more prepared and was able to maintain his chill composure. “Okay. Okay, baby, I’m turning my stuff back on. Be quiet, please.”

You nodded, slowly taking him back into your warm mouth.

Luke turned on his camera. He turned on his mic. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his mouse and keyboard. “Okay, I’m back. Chat, please tell me Percy and Thalia didn’t do anything stupid while I was gone.”

“Hey!” You heard, faintly from Luke’s headset. “We didn’t do anything, and if your chat says otherwise, they are lying!”

You giggled as quietly as you could, and clearly the vibrations from such movement felt good for Luke, because you heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Wh-whatever. Doesn’t matter. Let’s get back to work.” Luke said defensively.

“What?” Percy asked. “You sound weird, man. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Luke replied, too quickly and at an octave higher than he normally speaks. You couldn’t help but get a little nervous. He was terrible at being subtle.

“Okay…” This was a girl’s voice, and sounded like Thalia. “My chat agrees that you’re being weird.”

“Same.” Percy agreed.

“Yeah, well,” Luke scanned his second monitor to check in on how his chat was reacting. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “My chat is being dumb, as per usual.”

Below the desk, your nerves had subsided and instead you became preoccupied with the notion of possibly getting caught. It was kind of twisted but this caused your lower region to dampen. You lifted your short little skirt over your hips and moved your lacy underwear to the side, giving you access to finger yourself.

You moaned, with your mouth full of thick, heady cock, and brain slightly foggy from the wine consumption. You were close already.

“What?” Luke said, clearly reading something on his monitor. “Chat, that was my phone vibrating on my desk. I did not moan over that headshot Percy made. Be so for real”

“Rude,” Percy said. “I would’ve moaned. I’m like, the god of gaming.”

“Loser.” Luke responded, biting his lower lip and slightly bucking his hips into your mouth. He must’ve been getting close, too.

From that moment on, you were desperate to make Luke finish. You abandoned your slow and gentle place, and took his entire cock down your throat. You silently gagged, and bobbed your head up and down, making sure to suck a bit longer on his leaking tip. You grabbed his balls in your right hand and squeezed, keeping your left hand on his upper thigh.

“Fuck,” Luke murmured, just under his breath. You sucked harder in response. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What is going on, dude?” Percy questioned. “You’re stressing me out.”

Luke glanced over at his chat again.

Luke flipped a middle finger to his camera, and gave a playful, “Chat, you all suck.” Obviously, he loved his fans and was eternally grateful for their support. It was just fun to mess around with them and feign a love hate relationship. It did make him a bit anxious, however, that everyone easily picked up on the fact that something was affecting Luke. It didn’t exactly help that he was really close to finishing and was starting to lose track of what was happening in the game. All he could feel was his cock going in and out and in and out of your soft lips, that were now coated in a mixture of salvia and his precum. It was just about driving him insane.

You, on the other hand, were knuckle deep inside your own cunt and sucking Luke off with so much fervour your jaw was starting to ache. But you loved the feeling. And you were determined to get him off. Now.

Suddenly, Luke felt the familiar feeling build inside himself. Before he realized it was happening, he was shooting thick ropes down your eager throat. “Fuck!” he screamed, legs shaking and eyes squeezing shut. He shuddered and gasped for air as you did not let up on your pace, sucking every last drop of cum from him.

He realized how fucking weird this whole ordeal must’ve looked to his many (many, many) viewers.

Instead of confronting what just happened, he slammed his mouse on the End Stream button and shut off his computer, without so much as a goodbye. He pushed his chair back and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you up to your feet.

You smiled at him sweetly, a sheen of sweat covering your entire body. Luke leaned down and kissed you hungrily.

“Y/n,” he said, once he was out of breath from such an intense kiss. “I.. Need. To be inside of you. And you can never, ever do that again.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed innocently. “Kinda seemed like you really liked it though.”

“Oh, shut up.” Luke said with a grin. “Bed. Now.”

You obliged, heading over to his comfy queen sized bed, unaware that you were about to have the most mind blowing sex of your entire life.

authors note: aaaaa ok. first of all i’d like to apologize. i have not proofread this at all and i wrote each chunk on separate days. i will proofread it eventually and fix the errors lmao.

also! now that all the ~lore~ to this AU is sorted, if you ever wanna send me twitchstreamer!luke specific prompts, i would ADORE THAT.

thank you all again for reading !!!!! <3

taglist: @notacluelessblonde00 @lilyirlevans

[evamame]

love to keep me warm

stuck in the cold winter weather with ushijima wakatoshi

cw: sfw, fluff, ushijima x reader, pet names (love), established relationship, gn!reader but leaning fem

word count: 576

author’s note: title based off of love to keep me warm by laufey. chivalry isn’t dead because ushijima is a certified gentleman. i love him sm.

masterlist

it’s a freezing winter day. everytime you exhale, frosty steam comes out of your mouth. your cheeks and the tips of your ears are flushed red.

ushijima glances over at you, noticing your shivering as you two walk down the street. your outfit is a bit too light for the weather, and your arms are crossed across your body in an attempt to keep warm. you thought it’d be a lot warmer than it actually is, to your dismay. the winter breeze and the crisp air leaves you feeling much colder than you expected, but at least you’re feeling confident in the cute outfit you had planned for today.

“are you cold?” ushijima questions, concerned.

“yeah, i’m a little chilly,” you reply, undermining just how freezing you really are.

his brows knit in confusion, clearly not convinced that you’re as okay as you claim to be. “you’re shaking. and your clothes are very thin for this cold weather,” he states matter-of-factly. “do you need my jacket?”

you look over at him, and his arms are lifted up like he’s ready to take his jacket off. you put your hand up to stop him from acting any further, “no, it’s okay. you don’t have to freeze because of me.”

“but i want to. your comfort is more important than mine.”

“‘toshi, i’m okay. we’re not walking that far.”

“you’ll catch a cold at this rate, love.”

“i said i’m fine, ‘toshi. if you give me your jacket, then you’ll be the one catching a cold, no?”

he sighs at your persistence, looking back to the path ahead of him. you look forward as well, and hear him shuffle around next to you after a few moments. then you feel his warm hands on your shoulders as he drapes his jacket over you.

you glance towards him, giving him a disapproving look at his actions. a faint smile graces his face at your snarky expression.

he wraps his arm around your waist, huddling up next to you as you two continue to walk side by side. “warmer?” he asks, looking down at you.

you look up at him when he speaks, “much warmer. but aren’t you cold now?”

“i am, of course. but you’ll keep me warm,” he says as he tightens his grip around you, getting as close to your side as he can to embrace all of your body heat.

you smile, a scoff leaving your mouth, the cold winter air forming a cloud in front of you at the action. you lean into his embrace, feeling warm under his strong arm. he takes your hand in his, interlocking your fingers and stuffing them into the pocket of his coat that is now draped over you. “next time we should wear gloves too,” he ponders, looking down at your entangled hands.

“that’d be a good idea.”

he chuckles softly, “a jacket would have been a good idea too.”

“at least my outfit’s cute.”

“that is true. you look adorable. but you can’t deny a jacket would have been a good idea. to me, you still would have looked beautiful with it on.”

you smile at his compliment, but when you speak your voice feigns nonchalance, “whatever, this is more comfortable. i like it better this way.”

his cheeks flush pink and his smile widens as he sees right through your facade. although, the color wiped across his face doesn’t exactly come from the cold, “me too.”

like what you read and want to read more? here’s my taglist

tags: @scoupsworld

© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.

[studioeisa]

Following the death of agent Poktanju, the Korean arm of espionage agency Kingsman must now reassess its ranks. Three Kingsmen— and one aspiring agent— navigate the aftermath to the best of their ability. The work is daunting, yes, but the saying rings true: MANNERS MAKETH MAN.

CODEBOOK ★ manners maketh man is an upcoming collection of four stories starring select members of SEVENTEEN. minors do not interact; these fics will contain explicit content, including but not limited to smut; depictions/mentions of death, violence, and injuries; alcohol consumption, etc. stories will be tagged accordingly once completed and linked back to this masterlist.

proceed with caution, and remember— a gentleman never tells about conquests, private matters, or dealings. this stays between us.

SMOKE SIGNALS ♟️ Minghao Makgeolli.

Your fiancé has never given you any reason to worry about him. He’s always been a little secretive about his job, but you’ve believed there are worse things to worry about. That is, until he comes home one night bruised, battered, and claiming he wants to call your engagement off. Now, you’re left to wonder whether you ever really knew Minghao at all. 

WAITING ROOM ♟️ Jihoon Baekseju.

Intel gatherer. Candidate trainer. Technical expert. Jihoon is a jack of all trades— who feels like he ought to add ‘murderer’ to his list of titles. The only thing he can do for now is focus on keeping the remaining Kingsmen alive. It’s easier said than done, especially when you make his job a living hell. You’re probably the most stubborn agent that the organization has, and Jihoon refuses to let you die.

MOTION SICKNESS ♟️ Soonyoung.

Wonwoo said he had an opening for Soonyoung, but never in the latter’s wildest dreams did he expect it would be this. Kingsman Training is shaping up to be the world’s most dangerous job interview and Soonyoung has half a mind to quit. He just might stick around, though, if it means getting to wipe that smug look off your face.

I KNOW THE END ♟️ Vernon Somaek.

The Kingsman’s newest target is a visionary who, in trying to heal the world, risks breaking it. Vernon is on your case, and he swears he’ll be able to catch you this time. The problem is— when you're two people at the same time, one of them is bound to trip the other. Whether Vernon will manage to stay on his toes is yet to be seen.

The Kingsman is a top-secret, independent intelligence and espionage agency based in South Korea, dedicated to upholding peace and protecting the world from terrorists and other major threats. To the Korean public, Kingsman is nothing more than a popular, multinational drink and brewing company. Its alcoholic beverages are renowned all over the world; its agents are named after the drinks and mixes they sell.

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY ★ all titles are from phoebe bridgers songs. i recently rewatched the kingsman movies because they’re leaving netflix soon, and this idea grabbed me by the neck and wouldn’t let go. massive thanks to the love of my life, @chugging-antiseptic-dye, for listening to my psychobabble about this. you make me possible, a. xo

[stayevildarling]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader - Pink Skies

A/N: I'm not exactly sure how I got this idea but it has been on my mind for ages. I miss Natasha so much 🤍 Title is inspired by the song ,,Pink skies'' by Zach Bryan.

Prompt: Natasha and you have always had a special connection. One day a mission goes severely south and the two of you are separated but somehow still find each other's love and connection in the silence.

tags/warnings: mention of blood, mention of guns, mention of violence, mention of bomb, mention of snowstorm, mention of malnourishment, mention of suicidal thoughts, lots of angst/hurt, comfort at the end

word count: 7k

translation: detka=baby

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay , @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometime , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @stepintomyworld , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

As you stumble into the briefing room, feeling both tired from the last few missions lately and many nights preparing for this mission, in all sorts of ways, you instantly notice the tension in the room. There is a shift, the usual pre mission buzzing replaced by something quiet, something dark and you could swear that you could hear the other's thoughts and the concern about this mission. A dim light filters through the room and you take a seat at the table, the other Avengers filtering in one by one, their faces both serious and filled with something else that you can't quite read yet. The mission was clear and it had been for weeks since Tony had mentioned it for the first time.

An old HYDRA base in a remote location in the middle of the Siberian wilderness. It had been located buried under thick ice and snow for decades but recently discovered through one of Tony's channels. And it was believed to hold critical intel, weapons that could seriously harm the outside world if it got into the wrong hands. It had taken weeks of preparation, new gear, new costumes, hours and hours of meetings, filling out reports and gathering ideas. And as you glance at the team again, you notice how much it had tired them, no mission lately having been this big in preparation alone and you notice there that the ,,something else'' in their faces must be the fact that the mission itself would be even harder.

You sit at the table, your arms crossed, listening intently as Steve outlines the plans once more. Your eyes drift across the table, scanning the others, when they reach hers. They linger on Natasha for a moment longer, too long. She is focused, her eyes sharp and calculating but you notice the subtle tension in her jaw and you knew it meant she was worried. Natasha and you had been working side by side for years now ever since Yelena dragged you out of the Red Room and into the Avengers compound, knowing your talents are too great to be wasted by a normal life. They had taken you in, Natasha under her wing and it didn't take long before you joined missions and the compound became your home, the team your family.

She gives you a small nod as she notices your lingering eyes, pulling you out of your thoughts, a silent reassurance that everything would be okay. Her expression softens for a moment before she focuses on the briefing again. And despite you needing to do the same really, your eyes linger for a moment longer, the familiarity in her green eyes, the sense of home. Now, Natasha had been your home for years, pretty closed off when she first met you but quickly noticing how alike you are, how you share the same pain, the same scars from your past. She took you under her wing, teaching you how to become an Avenger by training with you and how to become part of the Team by taking you to Pizza and Game nights and keeping you company for Tony's ridiculous parties. And the two of you had grown closer, from weekly training sessions to weekly movie nights and the two of you bickering which action film to watch. From only one of you joining the team on missions, to you both being essential for the team in different ways. From shy glances with tight jaws to lingering glances in the meeting room, fingers interloping on a dark night or shoulders touching while sitting and watching the sunset on the rooftop.

,,and that's when you come in'' Steve explains, bringing you back into reality and stopping your daydreaming about a certain redhead. ,,We need to move fast, in and out before anyone knows we are there. Y/N you will be leading the infiltration team. Natasha you will provide overwatch. The rest of us will secure the perimeter and handle extraction'' he explains, glancing around the table.

You nod, absorbing the same details you had been listening to carefully for the past few months. There isn't much time to think about anything other than the mission, but as the team begins to get ready, you feel Natasha's presence beside you. As your eyes meet hers, you take in her uniform again, her long red hair and the braids and the familiar safe green eyes locking with your own, almost completing each other.

,,Be careful out there'' she says quietly, her voice low enough that only you can hear her. Her Russian accent slips slightly and you know her well enough by now to know, there is something unsaid in her voice and behind her green orbs. ,,You too'' you reply with a smile, your tone matching her softness. ,,I'll see you when this is over'' you announce. She looks at you with something intense in her gaze, as if she wants to say more but then she just nods and you both turn to go your separate ways and into this mission.

The Quinjet hums lowly through the sky a little while later, your team already on the way, the other teams on your intercoms. You are nervous, beyond nervous as this really wasn't one of your usual missions. So far you had been fighting off the bad guys, mostly missions that would take at most a few days, some undercover ones taking longer but this was something else. With Tony's technology it doesn't take nearly as long as it should and after dozing off for a little while, you hear some ruffling and the announcement over intercoms that you are fast approaching.

Now neither of you had expected the storm and weather to hit as hard as it did. Of course, Tony had brought on some scientist and weather experts to prepare you for the conditions, making sure your gear and costumes as well as boots are made for this. Each of you had a tracker that was nearly indestructible as well as a backpack with essentials if the weather would hit as expected. But the storm was much faster and harder than anyone could have anticipated. What was supposed to be a quick in and out operation, turns into chaos within minutes. The blizzard almost swallows everything, including nearly the Quinjet and before you know it your communication lines are down and your team is getting separated.

You push forward, despite the low visibility and the freezing cold on your skin, determined to complete this mission. You almost reach the target location, despite not having a map or a way to communicate, remembering the maps from all the meetings and the large bridge you are currently trying to cross when an explosion suddenly rocks the ground beneath your feet. A landmine must have been hidden underneath the snow, the blast sending you tumbling down a ravine. The fall feels endless and the only thing you can see as you drop is darkness and snow before you fall to the floor, the snow at the bottom of wherever you are shielding you from any serious back injuries.

For a moment you simply lay there in the darkness, struggling to comprehend what just happened as the pain ripples through your body, your ears buzzing and your vision blurring from the impact. Your breathing comes in ragged gasps as you try and assess the situation, having been in predicaments plenty of times as an Avenger and long before in the Red Room. Your leg is bleeding, a deep gash from the fall that the snow hadn't prevented. A part of you knows how hopeless this truly is, your comms are shattered as well as both of your trackers and your phone certainly would have broken in the backpack.

After a moment you practically jump up, shaking some of the snow off, for now ignoring the pain in your body as you try and reach for your phone but just as you expected it shattered from either the blast or fall. You sigh as you reach for one of your torches, and you find yourself inside a tunnel, the drop too far to attempt to climb back up and so you begin walking, having tended to the wound with one of the first aid kits in your backpack for now. After hours and hours of walking, you realise it's the tunnel connected to the HYDRA base but you couldn't access it as you had none of the equipment to get inside the huge metal door. You practically slide down the door, the only light source your torch as you sit there, hoping the team that was supposed to infiltrate this part and get inside to eventually show up and take you with them.

But as the hours pass, eventually two days of staying in the same location, you know it's hopeless and that no one will show up. You decide to leave a note, having brought a notebook and pen on your mission for whatever reason you can't really remember now, telling them that you are alive and would try to find your way back to them, leaving it by the large metal door. The way out of the tunnel is harder than anything you had ever done before, endless walking, endless different ways to turn, getting lost, eventually feeling like you would never get out of there but finally after more hours of walking, you manage to make it to the end, breaking a metal bar before you slip past it and finally seeing the sky again. However, to your disappointment you are in the middle of nowhere, no way of knowing where the team had begun this mission, where you had landed initially.

All you can see is endless white, some trees and mountains to either side but no sign of any civilisation let alone any Avengers anywhere. And that's the first time you break down, knowing how truly screwed you are and that the likelihood of finding you was incredibly low at this point. The cold seems to seep into your skin and bones as you begin walking towards the trees and into the mountains, knowing you couldn't stay in the endless white forever and knowing your best chance at survival would be to do this the old fashioned way. As soon as you reach the forests, still covered in snow but much less cold and wet, you collapse onto the floor, taking the backpack off yet again and laying out your only belonging for the foreseeable future.

Inside you find, the torch and multiple batteries, your first aid kit, the notebook and pen, some water inside a large bottle, multiple protein bars and electrolyte packets as well as a foldable emergency blanket, a knife and obviously your weapons. A part of you is glad Tony decided to go this overboard as many of the Avengers had protested on carrying all of this equipment, claiming they don't need it, but you couldn't be more grateful to the old man right now insisting on you all carrying it, knowing you needed this more than ever if you want to survive. You try and remember the maps and what they said about the nearest city incase of an emergency landing on the way there or back but you remember them saying it was miles away, hence the multiple teams and Quinjets especially equipped for this type of mission.

Natasha lingers on your mind, the way her hair looked so beautiful the last time you saw her, the smile on her face and the worry. You wonder what she is thinking, if she is looking for you, if they are even back yet and know this mission failed. You know she must have watched the fall with her team and you pray that they don't assume you are dead and would look for you because you know this was nearly impossible. With the rest of the day, you decide to use one of your old Red Room methods to tell the time, using your instincts and mostly the sky to guide you, knowing if you lost track of time eventually this would catch up with you and be a great danger. And so you scramble for any dry wood that you can find, using your skills to make a fire in order to finally warm up and find some shelter, knowing the chance of wild animals was low with this weather but knowing it wasn't impossible. With the knife in your hands, you close your eyes but sleep remains a stranger at first and so you simply stare at the sky, turning different shades as the night carries on and somehow your thoughts only linger on Natasha and wanting to get back to her.

The next day, you decide to carry on walking, trying to find water and moving on. You aren't sure what is driving you forward, whether it was your will to survive, wanting to get back home to your family and team, knowing your chances of surviving this are pretty low. But you carry on, through the mountains, through the forests filled with snow, the snowstorms following you wherever you go as you keep your feet moving, despite every single bone in your body hurting and every single thought in your head telling you to just lean against one of the trees and await your faith. For the days to follow you keep pushing, especially through the night, knowing it was much safer for you to find sleep and rest during the day. And you had managed well, surviving of water and the occasional fish you managed to find on your way through the mountains and the occasional frozen pond or lake that you managed to break through with your knifes, knowing you needed the stuff in your backpack for tougher times to come.

Eventually after days of walking, trying to push the pain and the cold aside, you find shelter in a small cave, hidden from the wind and storms. It wasn't much but enough to get you rested, knowing you needed a good nights sleep to restore your energy. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to converse heat and look out at the storm outside. The sky had turned a deep pink as the sun dipped below the horizon, and for a moment, the cold stops as you think about Natasha again, wondering if she was maybe looking at the same sky, thinking about you. A part of you wishes you would have told her, told her how your heart beats for her, how you only managed to heal the scars of your past with her by your side, how she made every ugly thought about yourself beautiful, how she healed the most broken parts of your soul and how she had lifted you up from the most darkest of times. You wish you would have told her about how much your hands and knees shake whenever you are near her, at the beginning certainly from nerves but eventually from butterflies as they would erupt in your stomach whenever you are near her.

Neither you or Natasha had been the cheesy type, the ones with big love confessions or maybe even the type for a relationship, knowing you had both dedicated your life to a greater goal. But as the sky turns dark and the cold returns, you wish you would have told her, knowing it would have never changed your fate but you wish she would have known, known that there was someone out there who loves her deeply, more than the air in their lungs, more than the blood in their body keeping their heart pumping. You would give your life for Natasha at any given moment and you hate yourself for the possibility of her never knowing how you feel, never knowing whether she may feel the same, whether the glances truly meant something, the shoulders brushing against each other, the pinky promises or the smile she had reserved for you. Despite the heartache, the thoughts of Natasha bring you comfort and you eventually manage to find sleep again, your body finally getting the rest you needed.

The next morning, the storm had mostly eased and as you walk out of the cave, backpack on your back, you know this is your chance to finally get some miles in, knowing if you walk through the large fields of nothing, skipping the mountains and hills that you may actually be able to get anywhere, knowing the possibility of getting caught in the storm was there but with no way of contacting anyone and slowly loosing your sense of time, you push forward, the thought of Natasha still lingering on your mind.

Meanwhile, Natasha storms into her room, banging the door shut on her way in. Another day of trying to find you, another day of returning to the scene where everything went wrong. Another day of searching for clues, any sign of you being alive. It had been weeks since the mission went south, weeks since you had been gone. She had replayed the moment in her mind a thousand times, watching you fall, searching for something she missed, any clue that could lead her back to you. But the snow and ice of Siberia had swallowed you and they never even managed to find the entrance to the HYDRA base where you had left your note, leaving nothing behind but silence.

She stares out the window at the compound grounds, her hands clenched into fists. The others had tried to convince her to stop this, especially Clint, knowing how much this was draining her and urging her to take a break. Telling her over and over again to let the search teams handle it but she couldn't, not with the thought of you out there, alone as it kept her awake at night. Natasha hadn't cried once since the day you vanished. She couldn't afford to, not when every ounce of her energy had to go into finding you and getting you back. But the weight of it all, the feeling like it was her fault, how she should have been with you, told you the words that lingered on her mind before you two said goodbye, suffocated her. She hadn't told anyone how much it hurt, how much she was blaming herself, how she could still hear your voice, feel your touches and how much she missed them, usually you being the one the redhead would confide in.

Natasha blinks away some tears as she looks over a small crumpled piece of paper, a note that you scribbled down during a debrief months ago, a joke about how ,,we always make it back''. It was stupid really, a throwaway comment but she holds onto it like a lifeline, hoping your words are true, hoping one day she was going to train with you again, make silly pinky promises to you and laugh with you until her belly would hurt. The ink had long faded where she had unfolded and refolded it a hundred times but the words still linger, as she traces them with her fingertips, each night before attempting to get some sleep but failing most of the nights.

,,Y/N'' she whispers as she continues staring out the window ,,Where are you?''. She doesn't expect an answer. She had been asking the same question for weeks and the silence was always the same. But in her heart she knows she will find you one day. You are out there and she knows it. She just has to keep looking.

The remainder of the day she spends looking over mission reports, watching the footage they had over and over despite the low visibility due to the storm but she couldn't stop, not yet. ,,Tasha, you gotta stop'' Clint says as he watches her in the common room, working effortlessly without taking any breaks. ,,I won't stop'' she mutters, shooting him a glance and he lets it go, knowing how much this means to her. The Black Widow carries on, spending every single day in finding you, talking to the team who got separated from you, working with Tony and the others. The lonely evenings, she would spend on the rooftop, your usual spot, watching the pink skies and thinking of you, praying for your safety.

--

The weeks had slowly turned into months and you are at the end of your strength. Every step feels like it could be your last, another snowstorm after another, your body numb to the cold at this point. Despite finding the occasional shelter here and there, often finding water due to the unlimited snow and the occasional scrap of something your body was giving up. You had no strength to keep going, to fight through mountains of snow and the occasional wild animal. You are tired and the last cave you hadn't left in days, your supply of food from the backpack long gone, as well as anything really, the batteries having run out, the pages from your notebook filled with your writing and sketches and so the only thing you had was your water bottle and yourself, the thoughts of giving up and that no one would ever find you.

The nights were the hardest, when the temperature dropped and the darkness would close in around you. But even in your exhaustion, you managed to keep your ritual, looking at the pink skies and thinking of Natasha. It had become your safety, a reminder that Natasha was waiting. Even if you didn't know for sure she was, it was the only lingering hope that you could cling on. Now, you had been so exhausted that you never noticed the snow beginning to thin lately, patches of bare earth visible between the drifts, a sign that you may finally be close to reaching the edge of wilderness. Despite your stomach hurting from starvation, your mouth dry from the lack of water, every single bone in your body hurting from the cold and the walking. But the real battle was your mind, the lingering thoughts of whether you should give up, knowing how pointless this truly was and that despite it all, they never found you, knowing how highly trained and equipped the avengers are and you couldn't shake the thought that they had abandoned you, never found you.

You knew how to make this painless, a quick sudden death within an instant, barely any pain, having learned this in your past also. And you considered it tonight, whether to finally give up and to let go. Using the back of the notebook to write a final note incase anyone would ever stumble upon this cave, despite the unlikelihood of that scenario. Tonight had tested you in ways you hadn't been tested before, not in the years of the Red Room, the killing and the abuse you had endured for years. Interrogations when your cover was blown when they beat you over and over, breaking your fingers or leaving many emotional scars. All your head keeps telling you is that you couldn't make it home, that there was no one waiting at home, how they had given up on you. Your family had given up on you. You take a shaky breath after finishing your writing, before laying down, using the backpack as a pillow, the knife in your palm before looking up.

And until now you hadn't seen it, the small hole above you, enough to give you a glimpse of the sky and to your surprise it was pink again. Now the sky hadn't been pink in a while, causing your usual bright thoughts of Natasha to vanish, replaced by darker ones, hopeless ones. But right now she's back, causing you to drop the knife as you close your eyes and think of her. You can see her in your mind, her red hair flowing freely, her smile, that specific one she had reserved for you, the smirk when you would make fun of one of the guys after a mission or a debriefing. Her usual tough hands, often rolled into fists whenever she would take someone out or was hitting the punching bag in the gym hard, this time holding your own in your daydreams, much softer and less rough. You can almost feel her and maybe it's the fact you hadn't really had a lot of water in the past few days or the lack of food but right now she is here in the cave with you, smiling at you as she lays beside you, using her soft hands to move some strands of hair from your features and wipe your tears.

Eventually the exhaustion creeps in, the knife remaining beside you, Natasha having replaced the dark thoughts as sleep washes over you. And you would never know but Natasha was staring at the same sky, once again sitting on your spot on the rooftop, hoping you are out there, hoping she was going to get to see you again. The Black Widow had struggled lately, losing her balance a little bit as she would fight Tony almost every day, blaming him for this mission, blaming Steve for the way he planned the mission, blaming your team for letting you go down the bridge alone but mostly blaming herself. She had went back to the mission site multiple times, trying to find anything but the HYDRA base was buried under the snow now, the storms that had passed burying the entrance and your note from the beginning. She hates herself for letting you go alone, for watching from above rather than being beside you. She should have pushed harder not to have you in the dangers of this mission and most of all she regrets never having told you. Told you that you are the one she can relate to due to your shared past, how she suffered the same nightmares, the same trauma and thoughts. How you are her safe haven, how she trusts you and knows you have her back.

How Natasha had been in love with you from the first moment she saw you walk inside the compound with Yelena. How she pushed the thoughts away for months until she couldn't keep her distance. How she accepted being friends as she assumed it was best but how it had killed her every second of every day and especially now. She wishes she never wasted any of it. She wishes she would have held you when watching movies together, she wishes she would have kissed you as you sat beside each other on the rooftop and most of all she wishes she would have told you before you left on this mission. How she has no idea whether you love her, the others, especially Yelena having of course mentioned it and teased the redhead about it but how she needed you to know, even if you didn't love her back.

The next morning as you wake up, your breath instantly hitches, remembering the night before and how close you had been to giving up. You pack your bags before stepping out of the cave and as soon as you do, you notice it immediately. The change of scenery, how the snow was slightly lighter, some green sticking out from underneath and then you see it, far in the distance, having to squint your eyes in order to make sure it's real. Movement in the distance. Tears pour down your cheeks as you begin running, knowing you needed to save your strength but not caring. Any possibility of movement was good and you needed to get there, knowing with how low you are running on everything, this was maybe your last chance. It takes you all day, the sky filled with darkness and stars but eventually you find the lights, a small town approaching and again you begin running after seeing the first sign of civilisation in months. You basically collapse into the village before a family approaches you, the woman instantly offering you water and food.

They offered you a phone and shelter but you didn't want to risk a single thing, knowing how these remote areas could be filled with soldiers and you aren't educated enough on what kind and so you decide to let the man drive you into the nearest city the next day. That night as you lay awake in the small barn they offered you for shelter, you look at the sky, it too late to be pink but you think of Natasha and seeing her again, this time falling asleep with a smile on your face.

The journey home had taken you longer than you could have imagined, they drove you to the nearest city before you had to take a boat in order to get to the nearest airport. Now, being an Avenger came with it's perks, not needing a passport handy necessarily and being able to use secure connections. You remembered an old friend living a couple of countries away and so you gave him a call and he agreed to send one of his jets to fly you back home. And after some more hours of endless travelling, this time with enough food, water and warmth, you finally make it home. You know you should call, let them know but a part of you simply wants to get back, fall into Natasha's arms and finally tell her about all the things you had experienced on this journey and how you only managed to come home due to her and the pink skies.

It seems like almost nothing has changed when you walk into the compound, the facial recognition still having your data saved. With ease, you walk past the empty common room, the empty gym and the briefing room, trying to find a sign of someone. Now due to your exhaustion you hadn't realised it was the middle of the night and when that thought registers you sigh, wondering where she may be. ,,JARVIS?'' you call out quietly as you make it into an elevator ,,Yes Ms Y/N?'' he asks and you ask him the question that lingers on your mind. ,,Miss Romanoff is currently on the rooftop'' he explains and your eyebrows furrow for a moment before you make your way up there, wondering what she is doing up there. It only takes a few more stairs before you find the open door and the angel you had been thinking about sitting at the edge, staring into the distance, her hair falling freely, just the way you had remembered it.

,,Natasha?'' you call out but she remains quiet and at first she ignores it as your voice had lingered on her mind for so long, often tricking her as you would appear beside her while training or with the others but she had to learn it wasn't you and simply her thoughts and aching heart. ,,Tasha?'' you try again and this time her head instantly snaps, noticing how it sounded too real to be her imagination. Her face turns from serious to shocked in an instant and she jumps to her feet quickly before she stands there, staring at you in disbelief, the same clothes from that day, despite them being ripped, the same backpack, your same beautiful face despite the bruises and cuts. The same beautiful you, despite how you look thinner, tired and pale.

,,Y/N?'' it's barely above a whisper, her voice breaking as she takes some steps towards you. You notice her hesitation and how she seems scared that this isn't real, that if she touched you you may disappear again. ,,Are you really here?'' she whispers and you look up at her, the exhaustion stretched into every line of your face, but your eyes are the same, the same sparkle. ,,Natasha'' you repeat, unable to form any words at this point.

The moment stretches for a while but before you know it, she runs up to you and you find yourself in her arms as she squeezes you tight and you remain like that as you finally collapse into her arms, having made it home. You cling to her, scared if you let go you may find this a dream and that you are still in one of those caves, that you would wake up and find the endless whites again. Sobs wreck through your body, despite you not wanting her to see any of this but you couldn't hold back.

,,I thought.. I thought we lost you'' she whispers into your hair, her voice shaking with the weight of everything unsaid. ,,I thought I'd never see you again'' she admits, her own tears lingering in her green eyes.

,,What happened?'' she asks as she pulls back, wiping your tears with her thumb. ,,A landmine I think'' you try and collect yourself again before she tilts her head as she listens to you intently. ,,Where have you been?'' she asks confused before you fill her in, on the endless white, the storms, the caves, the town after months, and using one of your contacts to get back. Her jaw drops as your words register before her eyebrows furrow. ,,You just got back?'' she asks a bit dumbfounded before you nod. ,,So you haven't seen anyone? no one knows? we need to get you to med bay'' she urges and you simply nod, too tired to argue with her and knowing you really should have done those things before.

Natasha reaches for your hand as she walks you into the elevator and into med bay, finding one of the night doctors and leaving you in their hands for a moment before waking the others. By the time they return you are in one of the beds, on fluids and pain medication as they had treated you to your injuries. Tony, Natasha, Steve, Bucky and the others stand around your bed, seeing you soundly asleep from both the exhaustion and medication as they stare at each other in disbelief. ,,She made it back'' Steve shakes his head in surprise, not able to imagine what you must have been through these past few months.

,,How is she Doc?'' Tony asks as he looks at you in concern. ,,There are signs of severe malnourishment, dehydration and a leg injury'' he begins speaking. ,,We have given her fluids, pain medications and something to get her to rest'' he explains and Natasha anxiously begins biting her lip at hearing his words. ,,She should make a full recovery but needs rest for now'' he acknowledges and the others sigh in relief. They stay with you for hours before they leave it to Natasha, knowing she was the one truly wanting to be by your side. The doctor had given her your backpack and she found the notebook inside, unsure what to do with it just yet.

She knows the first thing they would do in the morning is need to follow up on this mission and she assumes being able to find some intel and despite the doubts, Natasha begins reading. She finds your pages about how the mission had gone south, how you had walked through the roughest blizzards, how you hadn't eaten in days, before she reads her name for the first time. She reads all the pages until her eyes burn, the confessions how you had found another pink sky and how it reminded her of you and by the last page she is in tears. Seeing how you are so close to giving up and the little line you had written for her in case she ever finds you. Her head falls into her hands as she begins sobbing, tears of relief and sadness rolling down her cheeks as she couldn't be happier to have you back but couldn't be more heartbroken for what you had endured, sincerly hoping it would have been her instead.

The redhead reads over your lines over and over again, unable to believe what you had endured and knowing the strength it truly took to walk through the hell that you had walked through. She reads over the lines of the pink sky and how it reminded you of her and her heart aches and beats faster at the same time, knowing she had been the reason you carried on and found your way home. Natasha had never known what it truly felt like to be loved wholeheartedly but reading every single one of your thoughts, the raw truth behind them makes her emotional in a way that she had never been before. The redhead remains by your side, not thinking about leaving for a second, not caring remotely about the meetings, the mission or any of it, all she wants is to be near you.

It takes a good day until you are out of it, the meds wearing off slowly and she remains right there, holding your hand when you wake up shaking and gasping for breath as the nightmares of the cold wreck through your body. She gently shushes you back to sleep as she lays beside you, figuring the blankets aren't warm enough and wanting to keep you close, still worried if she so much as blinked you may disappear again. By the time you finally wake up fully, you blink a few times, the reality of having found your way home settling in fully. Natasha lays beside you as you are wrapped in her arms, smiling softly at you as your eyes meet her green ones.

,,Hey there'' she softly whispers, her eyes filled with relief and something you can't quite read. ,,How you feeling?'' she asks and you nod in contempt, not fully ready yet to talk as the moment is too precious. The two of you stay like this for a while, soaking in each other's warms before the sunrise greets you and warms your cheek. ,,You hungry?'' Natasha asks, figuring you would want a whole buffet at this point. ,,Yeah'' you whisper softly and she offers a hand to you before guiding you outside of med bay, having cleared it with the doctors as you didn't need any further treatment for now.

,,Where are we going?'' you ask a little confused, figuring she may just take you into the common room and the kitchen. ,,Let's get you cleaned up hm?'' she suggests and you nod as you realise you are outside of your room, almost having forgotten the way there. As soon as you step inside you notice how it had been kept clean, but not by any staff. There is something more personal about it, the windows open for fresh air, the vase that you would always fill with your favourite flowers filled with some fresh ones and as you glance at Natasha standing behind you, you quickly connect the dots. ,,How about you get a shower and I'll make you some food'' she suggests and you nod, before disappearing into the bathroom for a while.

You had briefly showered when making it back to civilisation but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of a shower in your own bathroom, the warmth healing your skin and a fresh set of your own clothes. When you return a while later, Natasha is sitting by the small kitchen island, some coffee, orange juice and breakfast waiting for you and you smile, wishing this was your reality, wishing this could be the scene in front of you every morning. The two of you sit in silence as you begin eating, enjoying each other's company but the air is thick with unspoken truths and things on each other's mind.

,,You know..'' she begins as she glances at the cup of coffee in her hands. ,,You really could have called'' she sighs but a smile plastered on her face. ,,I know I should have, I'm sorry'' you apologise, seeing the concern written across her features. Silence fills the room again and before either of you can speak, you are interrupted by a knock on your door, Bucky requesting you both in the meeting room. The two of you sigh, having enjoyed the moment up until now before joining the others. The reunion is filled with emotions as you reunite with some of the others and Natasha watches silently from the other end of the room, having dreamed about these moments for so long.

,,You were right to never give up'' Clint whispers as he lingers beside her. She glances at him, giving him a brief smile before he begins speaking again. ,,Finally gonna tell her?'' he asks but before she can reply, Tony requests everyone by the large meeting table, ready to talk the details through and just exactly how this mission went south. You tell them about it all, the entrance to the HYDRA base you had found but that you expect it to be covered by the blizzard now and unable to get to, you tell them about the landmine and what had happened, talking through every single detail of your reality from the past few months. Steve and Tony are quick to plan some further steps, deciding whether to abandon the mission or try to find the base one more time and you find yourself stealing away, not wanting any part of this mission anymore and the memories haunting your mind.

Natasha watches you leave, figuring you need some quiet, wanting to give you the space instead of hovering by your side all day but when you fail to show up for dinner, she tries finding you and succeeds immediately as she finds you on the all too familiar rooftop, watching over the sky. ,,Hi there'' she greets you softly as she takes a seat beside you. ,,Hi'' you whisper, too caught up in the moment to find any more words. The two of you remain silent and there is something bittersweet about this moment, watching the pink sky together, this time side by side rather than from afar. ,,Y/N'' Natasha begins and you find your eyes meeting her own, locking almost instantly. ,,I-'' she begins but pauses, unsure how to say everything that is lingering on her mind. ,,I need to tell you something'' you interrupt her, the past few months having given you a new courage that you never seemed to have found before.

,,Every day while I was out there.. I..'' you begin but pause yourself, finding it hard to repeat the painful truth. ,,I know detka'' she interrupts you, causing your breath to hitch. ,,I have read them'' she admits, avoiding your gaze. ,,I don't know if you feel the same and I would never want to ruin what we have but I want you to know that I came home because of you'' you admit and this time her gaze snaps right back to you, unable to believe the words coming out of your mouth and that there is still a doubt within you that this wasn't mutual. ,,And if- this is silly then..'' you begin rambling, feeling unsure by her silence but before you can say another single word her lips suddenly crash onto your own, taking you by surprise, your eyes widening at first before they close, fully embracing the kiss, feeling every single emotion, every single flashback. ,,I love you detka'' she whispers after the two of you pull away and your eyes remain on her, before they find the pink sky again, your shoulders now leaning against each other before your head rests on hers. ,,I love you Nat'' you whisper.

[l0vely-sturniolo]

TINTED WINDOWS

matt sturniolo x reader

tbh i didn’t know what to title this😭 but based off of matt’s story in todays car video and what it would be like to be his gf in the car with him when it all goes down :,).

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me and matt were at the store, getting things that he needed for the house, and things that the triplets needed for future videos. it was just me and matt, chris was at home working on some stuff for his brand, and nick was home editing this weeks friday video. we finished shopping and checked out, making our way back to the car.

as we walked back to the car, the security guard from inside the store spoke up, “tints a little dark, buddy.” he said. did he watch us the entire time to know exactly what car we were going to? matt looked over his shoulder, “yeah, it’s a little dark,” matt responded, and we kept walking. we put the bags in the car, before getting in.

matt started the car, and there was a knock on my window. i looked over, and saw the same security guard. “what the fuck?” i said, and matt looked over, and rolled his window down. “what’s up? what’s going on?” matt asked him. “you don’t have an answer for me on why that tints so dark?” he asked. i looked over at matt, confused as to why this grocery store security guard was so worried about matt’s window tint.

“no, not really,” matt responded. “so are you a cc?” the guy asked. “what even is that?” i asked. “i have no idea what that is,” matt said. “are you a cc?” he asked again. “no i don’t think so, i don’t know what that is,” matt responded. “concealed carry,” the guy responded. “no sir, i don’t have a gun in here,” matt responded.

“do you have any outstanding warrants?” the guy asked. “are you kidding me? all of this over some tinted windows?” i asked. “if i have any warrants, they’re not outstanding,” matt replied. i looked over at matt and he was shaking, and i reached over and grabbed his hand.

“we’ll see about that,” the guy said. “do we have a problem? is there something i need to be concerned about?” matt asked him. “we’ll just see about that,” the guy said, walking away. “oh my god, i’m gonna get put in handcuffs,” matt said, and he was still shaking. “baby, no..” i turned to looked at him. “he’s not even a cop, he’s a security guard from the store, didn’t you see his shirt? he shouldn’t even of been asking you about your windows,” i told him, rubbing his hand.

matt rolled his window up, taking a few deep breaths, before he started driving. “it’s okay baby, you’re okay, everything’s okay,” i told him, giving his hand a squeeze. matt started driving out of the parking lot, and out of the rear view mirror, i saw the security guard following us. “are you fucking kidding me?” i said, and matt looked and saw the car. “oh my god,” matt said.

“hey, hey.. it’s okay, just keep driving, he can’t do anything,” i said. “i don’t know what’s going on,” matt said. “me either baby, but it’s gonna be okay,” i told him. “he has no authority over you baby, he’s not a cop, i promise you’re okay, you’re not in trouble, nothings gonna happen,” i said still rubbing his hand.

matt turned right, and he followed us still. matt took another right, and he was still following us, and then he took one last right, and the guy went straight. “oh my god,” matt let out a sigh as he saw the guy go straight. “i almost had a heart attack,” matt said pulling over for a second, still shaking.

i reached over, pulling him into a quick hug, “i know baby, but you handled that well, and i’m proud of you,” i told him. “let’s go home incase he decides to be an asshole and come back,” i said, pulling away and leaning back into my seat. matt gave me a quick kiss, before pulling back off into the road, and we drove back home, this time with no interruptions, or security guards.

——————————————————————————

tags:

@stayingstromboli

[cas-couture]

cas couture.

cas couture is a community-based sim magazine focused on fashion. what sets cas couture apart is that we do not allow permanently paywalled cc nor c*rseforge content to be featured in the magazine and aim to highlight the numerous, talented cc creators in the community :)

hiring/recruiting.

we want YOU! yes, YOU! 🫵

as cas couture is community driven, we need YOUR participation!

( more info under the cut !!! )

HOW DOES RECRUITING WORK?

we recruit on a monthly basis– as in after each issue is published, we refresh and recruit again for the following month! 

this is to keep it fun and respect everyone’s time outside of tumblr! we understand scheduling needs change from month to month, theme to theme :)

for example, we are currently recruiting for our MAY issue. if you enjoy working with us, you would simply fill out the form again when we recruit for JUNE :)

RECRUITING OCCURS ON A ROLLING BASIS UP UNTIL THE PUBLISHING DEADLINE! As long as you submit your magazine spread by the submission deadline, we're all good!!!

WHAT DOES THIS POSITION ENTAIL?

JOB TITLE: FASHION EDITOR.

create a minimum ONE PAGE magazine spread (dimensions would be provided to you) highlighting OUTFITS or CUSTOM CONTENT CAS PIECES (that are freely available)– hair, makeup, accessories, anything!! the world is your oyster :)

there would be an overarching theme that would be provided to relate the outfits to! we’re trialling the theme idea :)

JOB TITLE: LIFESTYLE EDITOR.

as this is a magazine– and its primary focus is fashion– fashion is a lifestyle :) if you would like to highlight items or decor or some sort of other .package that has elevated your experience– your spread can also focus on this too! it can be in the form of an advertisement/ lifestyle edit– its totally up to you!

this position would also require you to contribute minimum ONE PAGE to the issue :)

an overarching theme would be provided as guidance!

JOB TITLE: COMMUNITY AND CULTURE EDITOR.

there will also be a COMMUNITY SIGHTINGS/GOSSIP page (which won’t involve actual gossip) but local simblr stories, bachelorette challenges, pack reviews, etc.! this would be a cute way to get simblr rolling again :)

this position would also require you to contribute minimum ONE PAGE to the issue :)

WHAT ARE THE REQUIREMENTS TO CREATE FOR C.C.?

you must be 18+ to apply

there will be a deadline to submit your content by, just because it’ll be a big group effort! no hard feelings and no penalties if you’re unable to get it in by the deadline, it might not be “published” in that issue :)

this is for fun!!!! pls remember that :) and also pls don’t be zionists or trumpies or homophobes or racist or anything else awful because :( and that’ll be another reason why we can’t have nice things :(

literally all that is required of you is that you submit your magazine spread to me by the deadline :) and we’re all set! 

this is truly a passion project :) come join us!!!!!

okay, so, i’m interested. what do i do?

apply using our form here! 

you’ll hear back from @milkteatrait (either from this account or from their personal one) within 24-48 hours with the month’s theme (moodboard, inspo)! so please make sure your messages are open (or in the form, provide an alternative contact method!)

may’s submission deadline: may 9.

may's tentative publishing date: may 11.

we have so many ideas about magazine covers, designs, potential sim story advertising, CC creator spotlights!! we just need the support! <3

asking da community for some support <3

i tagged a bunch of people last time and I would hate to be this annoying again!!!! so I'm humbly requesting some reblogs!!! <3333 thank you all so much for the support on our first issue!!!! we're so excited to be launching a second issue too!!!!! <333

[helenazbmrskai]

Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke. [1/2]

Title [Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke.]

Pairing [Northen Duke! Yoongi x Reincarnated! Reader]

Genre [Fantasy Romance, Reincarnation, World in a novel AU, future smut and angst]

Summary [You need to make an elaborate plan so you can avoid your impending death at the hands of your favourite character so you can’t just sit around and wait for something to happen – no matter how distraught you wake up one day in an unfamiliar bed.]

Words [11,5k ; part 1 out of 2]

Warnings [mistreatment and negligence, period drama, slow burn, mention of blood and drugs, tiny sexual tension]

Rating [+18 overall but this part is a tame +14]

A/N: Guess who’s back again? ME. I’ve been working on this for a lot and I know I already have a similar story on going but I just couldn’t get over this idea in my head. So enjoy! And as always excuse me for the typos.

Masterlist // part 2 (end) // I don't do tag lists anymore I'm sorry!

Every story needs a good start, and this one starts now with an old tale, much older than you.

There’s an ancient fairytale that tells you about the funding of the Empire and it all starts when God left.

Tired of human foolishness and deeply rooted malice he left the world he created to turn around its axis and burn down on its own; famine started to scavenge the continent as war broke out in every corner of the human world. Each kingdom perished one by one until only one was left.

It seemed like humanity would be wiped out permanently in no time but then just when they all thought there was no turning back, a saintess appeared among the rest and divided the continent into four regions with the help of the received divine power. That’s the birth of the empire’s central city where the empress Hyeri ruled over the four divided territories.

To prevent war from breaking out again the saintess turned to the heavens and pleaded while crying out to their maker and hearing her prayers the God who left decided to give them one last chance at redemption seeing the pure heart in front of him.

That’s when the holy prophecy was made.

Each chosen duke was granted unique powers to rule over their territories. However great powers come with great responsibilities. In the end, there’s always a price to pay but that’s the tale of another story.

This is how peace finally settled over the world once more. In exchange for the powers, the dukes wrote a blood oath that prevented them from stealing each other’s powers or waging unnecessary war. However just like every pact it wasn’t perfect. Loopholes could be taken advantage of but momentarily peace was forged.

This is the short version of the founding tale of the originated Kingdom that was taught to the people of the empire throughout generations. You particularly remember these starting lines from the novel you read in your previous life. The introduction is something you often skip through but thankfully you didn’t do that with this one.

The four families who inherited great power were Kim, Jung, Min and Jeon. When you first read the story introduction you thought that it’s quite lame and generic to base the family's attributes on the four seasons. However, seeing one of the duke’s illustrations you decided to read it all.

When choosing a book to read you only pay attention to the hotties. In this case, it wasn’t any different either.

A mysterious and cold duke of the north is something that a girl cannot ignore to save her life.

Each duke possesses an artefact which comes in the form of a ring and different precious gemstones that fit into the depression are named after the four seasons using a dead language.

Nix - means snow, which makes the wearer the lord of winter. The most handsome guy throughout the entire book in your opinion. Next, Saltus - translates to forest which is the symbol of spring. Umbra is shade and Calor is heat. The last remaining ones are autumn and summer. Each duke is the epitome of beauty, and their descendants are no exception.

This is a fantasy romance novel you read before you died in a sudden hit and run accident.

The original story is about an orphan girl Hyo who is the lost daughter of the king. After she’s found – the plot starts as she meets the four archdukes at the annual imperial ball and falls in love with the lord of Spring. Kim Taehyung. A handsome man with good manners and unmatched beauty as he’s described in the book. She’s captured by one look of the male lead’s brown eyes and shiny blond curly hair. Despite their fairytale-like first meeting, their love is not exempt from hardships. Their first obstacle is the villainess Kim Y/N who falls in love with Taehyung at first sight at the same ball and sets her eyes on marrying him but in the end, she fails to murder Hyo and gets beheaded by the second male lead Min Yoongi as an imperial order.

Hyo and Taehyung then live happily ever after and the novel ‘Flowers bloom in the heart of the Lost Princess’ ends there.

You see, dying a second time is not an option even if the one you possessed is Y/N.

You need to make an elaborate plan so you can avoid your impending death by the hands of your favourite character so you can’t just sit around and wait for something to happen – no matter how distraught you wake up one day in an unfamiliar bed.

Even though there’s no chance you will fall in love with the Duke of Spring like in the original novel – things can still go wrong if you make changes in the natural flow of the story, so you need to think this through carefully. You need to think about the plot holes and that the characters you see can be different from what you read in the book as that only tells you one side of the story.

The first thing you need to change gradually is the way the servants and the Duke see you.

The first week when you reincarnated as Y/N you spent your days with a high fever bedridden, you’re not sure if the pain came from the strain of absorbing the real Y/N’s memories or if something else is behind it. Your health is very poor as your medical history suggested, but you get accustomed to the villainess' body step by step. After another week your probation ended so you were able to leave the estate freely again. There were days when sudden headaches interrupted your day and, in the morning, you often coughed up blood.

You ignored it at first because the symptoms seemed to get better with time, and you had no way of knowing if it was normal. You didn’t ask in case someone found it suspicious. The most important thing right now is that you need to focus on staying alive and avoiding your death at the end of this novel – this is what you thought without knowing anything at that time.

As the plot thickens when you least expect it.

It’s not just your weird health conditions your head hurts just from thinking about the actions of the real owner of this body.

You just can’t grasp why a beautiful woman like Y/N would do those cruel things when she has everything she could’ve asked for. She’s a rich girl born with a golden spoon in her mouth, and she gets crazy just because she can’t have a man. It feels unnatural. If someone asks you to choose between life and a man you would choose life without hesitation.

You can have another man but not another life. Er, well – in your case, you do get another one thought but that’s beside the point.

Even before that incident happened with the female lead, she had a terrible reputation among the nobles.

Well – you can’t do anything if you’re not well rested so you will just think about this a bit later. You can’t possibly pull another all-nighter to study how this novel works. You close your eyes to finally get some shut eye when some woman barges into your room without knocking forcefully parting your curtains to let the early rays of sunshine in. The sound of her voice makes you freeze. This uncomfortable feeling suddenly ripped through your body as if a pile of rocks were sitting on your chest not letting you breathe. While you gained some of Y/N’s memories there are still holes in those fragments that you’re unsure of. However, her feelings are so intense sometimes that your body reacts like clockwork.

What you feel after hearing her voice is sheer terror. Who is this woman that even a villainess like Y/N is even afraid of? You can’t open your eyes as if your body is doing it unconsciously, unmoving like a doll to protect itself. Someone is coming closer.

You feel a prick on your forearm and your eyes fly open due to the pain. Her name appears in your mind as soon as you see her face and some of Y/N’s memories flood your head regarding that nasty woman. She triggers something dark in your eyes to appear.

Your nanny, Biwon.

“Wake up. Are you planning to sleep till the afternoon?” Biwon lets out a fake troubled sigh and her eyes are full of arrogance when you meet them you freeze completely at the sight.

“I’m sorry nanny.” Your mouth moves on its own like a broken record. It feels like this is not the first time she wakes Y/N up with a prick of a needle and the apology comes to her like second nature. Y/N’s attitude shows all kinds of trauma of being abused. How is it that this was never mentioned in the novel? While not much was mentioned about how she grew up you would think this is a piece of important information to have.

“Wash your face the duke requested to have breakfast with you for some reason.” She left without giving you any kind of assistance like a maid should do. At last, the water in the basin is ice cold to the touch and murky it manages to wake you up completely from shock.

You’re not just imagining it. Biwon has complete power over Y/N even though she’s the lady of the house.

You knew that the other maids avoided Y/N because of her temperament but to think that she’s been through manipulation and abuse by someone so close to her. Because Biwon is the one who spent the most time next to Y/N ever since she was a child everyone buys her lies. No one pays attention to Y/N, not her father or her brother.

She has no one to rely on in this household.

Biwon deliberately made her isolated in her own home so she could control and exploit her. Her malicious plan is clear to you after observing the situation objectively. What else is there that was not mentioned in the novel? Things might be more complicated than you thought.

However, this is not the time to ponder over this. You need to get ready alone. It didn’t take you long to realise Biwon forbids the maids from helping you so you can embarrass yourself in front of your family. While the real Y/N would have problems with getting dressed and being presentable without help as she’s a noble – there’s one tiny fault in your nanny’s plan – that she has no idea that you’re a modern woman who can wear her own fucking dress and get ready all by herself. She has a lot of extravagant dresses, so you had a hard time choosing but then something caught your eye. This dress has been buried deep in your wardrobe, a solid light cream-coloured dress with an elegant bow in the front. This is the perfect dress.

You do light makeup to match the dress and leave your long hair down after brushing it. While you were getting dressed you saw the countless bruises on your skin and your right arm was full of holes from the needle your nanny used to stab you with to wake you up. It’s good that the dress is long-sleeved. There’s no way the maids don’t know about your abuse since they bathe you. So, your guess is they are either the nanny’s people or they just simply don’t care enough to tell the duke. It’s clear the duke doesn’t care about Y/N so it wouldn’t benefit them to tell him when they could face the wrath of your nanny if she finds out. They think he wouldn’t do anything about it, and you think so too.

You feel compassion for Y/N. She was made to be a villain even if it doesn’t excuse her actions in the end. It’s only been two weeks for you, but she had to endure this for a lifetime.

You’re determined to change her future even more now that you know the truth. You’re going to live for her as well.

Opening the door to your room you find a maid waiting for you to lead you to the dining room as per the duke’s request. She looks taken aback by your neat appearance but doesn’t say anything and just shows you the way.

She dares to walk ahead of you. Even if you want to give her a piece of your mind you hold yourself back, you can’t afford to create a ruckus and be sent back to probation. It’s not that you care about who walks in front of you it’s the meaning of this action that angers you.

You hold back by creating a fist the pain of your nails digging into your palms in half-moon shapes keeps your head clear and controls your bubbling rage. You’re going to show everyone how Y/N won’t bow down anymore. You’re not a doormat that everyone can just walk over.

You’re not going to let everyone disrespect you ever again but to achieve that you need to make a plan and be more patient.

First thing first you need to make the duke care about you to an extent so he will listen to you. Good thing that you know the novel. You might be able to use that information to get what you want. You’re not going to make him like you, you just need to be useful for him to look at you. You’re not sure he would be even capable of liking you in the first place – not that you would want that after he neglected Y/N like that. Talk about loving family, this is just another example of being blood-related sometimes does not matter.

It's not like he’s your real dad anyway.

The dining room is just as fancy as the rest of the mansion. By the time you arrive the duke and your brother are already seated and chatting. The duke is sitting at the head of the table and Seokjin is sitting on his right.

Your tableware is set away from them probably a scheme made by your nanny to keep you isolated.

She must be afraid of why the duke suddenly wanted to dine with you when he usually never bothers to see you. You can’t let this golden opportunity pass like that. You’re going to make the most of it.

“Good morning, Father, Brother. Sorry for being late.” You give them a little courtesy. You’re careful to get your posture nice and graceful like you read in the etiquette book. The nanny purposefully discouraged the young Y/N to skip classes and remain a dumb doll for her to exploit but you’re not going to let her continue to do that.

While your posture is not perfect this will at least show that you’re trying to be as polite as possible.

You stayed up all night for an entire week to study about this new world’s etiquette and history to play your part more convincingly who knew that your knowledge would come in handy in a situation like this? You’re thankful that you decided to study even before you realised the nanny’s schemes.

You school your features to remain passive as you look at the grand duke’s and your brother’s dumb expressive faces. It looks like they are seeing a ghost. Even though you’re annoyed to be bent like that you keep the position until you receive the acknowledgement like a lady should. How annoying that you must bow like that until you are recognised by a man.

“It’s alright. Sit down, Y/N.” The duke gives you a curt nod seemingly flustered that he stared at you for so long. You remind him of his late wife a lot dressed like that. To everyone’s biggest surprise, you take a seat directly on his left side facing your brother.

You remain silent in your seat knowing that the duke’s pride will take a hit if he doesn’t correct the mistake that he didn’t even notice until you sat down. Usually, they wouldn’t care if you sit far away, they would probably think that you were the one who wanted the seat away from them in the first place as a sign of defiance but they can’t deny that you’re the lady of the house so to assume you would sit far away is an arrogant mistake on the servants part.

“What are you waiting for give my daughter a set and bring the food.” Thankfully the duke is just like you expected. He looks annoyed at the servants. His authority is absolute so the maids scurry to bring you some new tableware and bring out the food. The lonely set is forgotten at the rear end of the table. This is the first time you see something so mouthwatering in a while since you were forced to eat in your room and the food, they brought you was not even close to this. Now that you think about it, it was probably some leftover from the kitchen. No wonder Y/N is this thin.

It probably wasn’t even part of her punishment so someone must be stealing the food that is made for Y/N.

It’s hard to control your expression or your body language that is burned into your body by nature. You’re feeling uncomfortable all over that you can’t enjoy the food at all. It’s sad to see how rigid you are in the presence of your supposed family members. You don’t have any appetite even though you feel like you’re starving.

“How are things with Gold Wing? Did you manage to get them to agree with our terms?”

The Gold Wing is under the jurisdiction of the House of Summer. The old man Jung Jeyhun is a greedy man who keeps delaying his son’s succession because he wants to keep his title as an archduke. He’s the hidden boss of this novel. Y/N can’t compare with an evil villain like him. There’s probably no one else who knows he’s backing that trading company. You’re an exception only because you read the novel and know everything about how he wants to be the sole ruler of the Empire. He’s behind many unfortunate events that happen in the novel that no one finds out about until it’s too late.

“No. They’re trying to sell their stones for double the price. Knowing that none of the other companies have that much supply since they bought the rights to the mines.” Your brother looks irritated as if he recalls the meeting with the head of the company vividly.

No wonder they are cocky, they have the backing of House Summer, and they cheated the other rival companies out of the right to produce this type of stone that’s particularly high priced in the first section of the book. This stone is called Stelar which is steel but it’s a novel, so they had to give it a fancy name. Swords here are mainly made from two important ingredients iron or steel, but steel has a longer durability and is easy to craft to different shapes, so they tend to use that instead of iron which is way cheaper because of this fact. The knights used swords made with Stelar but because of the high price, it was hard to come by after the Gold Wing trading company monopolized the rights.

Their goal is to weaken the other three houses’ military power by selling the stones at a high price and getting funds for their territory but it’s not the only reason. The swords they sell are not simply made of Stelar. Steel is an alloy of iron. Iron needs to be mixed with carbon to make steel. They use some steel and put more iron to degrade the quality of the sword which breaks more easily than it should. You remember learning of it in school in your previous life, but these people don’t know of it because the novel has plot holes here and there. Since the novel focuses on the main characters things that are not related to them too much have more freedom to change, and things may differ as the author cannot mention every little thing. This could be what you need to make changes.

The truth that they tempered with the swords that got imported only comes to light when Yoongi investigates the company when he almost loses the battle with the barbarians but that battle only happens when you reach nearly half of the novel. He could tell that there was a difference in quality when he saw the sword break too easily. He made an assumption just by that and the fact that the new sword became heavier due to the added mass of iron.

Even if you feel bad for taking credit for his discovery you need to use that information, he finds out later so you can survive in this household.

“May I speak up, father?” You heard enough to grasp the current situation. You need to speak up before you lose your courage.

“What can you even contribute to this conversation?” Your brother looks angry that he got interrupted. In your eyes he’s not scary he’s just a big child throwing a tantrum when things don’t go his way. You decide to calmly face him even if you have to hide your nervousness by clasping your hands together under the table for comfort. Still can’t control the original Y/N’s physical reactions.

“I don’t think I asked brother.”

The duke raises his hand to silence Jin before he can spit out angrier remarks. The moment you appeared and gracefully bowed wearing your mother’s dress the duke could tell that something about you just became different. The air around you is filled with determination.

He got reports of you acting unusually tame so he asked you to dine together and see it for himself.

Your eyes that only reflected the world around it suddenly became full of will to live.

He’s curious to hear what you have to say. Usually, you wouldn’t speak unless you were spoken to. “Do you perhaps have a good idea of how to deal with them?” He proposes fully giving you his attention.

“The problem is that we don’t have Stelar to make swords for the knights, right? I suggest we find a mine suitable to harvest the stones we need that way we don’t have to depend on the trading company.”

“Are you a fool? Do you think if we could produce it, we would continue to make this ridiculous deal work?” You’re getting tired of your brother always cutting in. You can’t get angry though. The first thing you need to change is how people see you and you can’t get angry because the people around you will call you a temperamental child even if your anger is justified. They wouldn’t care either way they just want to belittle you. You just need to not allow them to do so.

“We have a place like that in our territory that could be suitable. I can mark it on a map if you’d like.” Even though the duke might be suspicious of how you know of a place like that he will investigate either way. This deal is too good to pass up on.

In hopes of discovering a new mine, he will even accept the flimsy lie of you just discovered it by reading some book and looking at maps.

“Alright. I will instruct the knights to check it out. If what you said is true, I will reward you.” You nod your head pleased with the outcome of this uncomfortable breakfast.

In the novel the imperial prince comes across the mine in your territory when he’s running away from assassins and due to his discovery, he gets praised by the king for solving a big problem. However, if you find the mine first that puts you in a favourable position with the other houses and even the king if you give the stones at a lower price making the Gold Wing trading company lose its base customers by making better deals.

Thankfully that painful breakfast comes to an end soon as father’s aid whispers something into his ear. He leaves in a hurry which makes you think it’s about something important and work-related.

Your brother leaves without saying a word so you can finally enjoy your food alone.

Ever since you came to this place you’ve never been this full before, it puts you in a fairly good mood. You even managed to grab the duke’s attention and for once got something more filling than stale bread.

All you need to do is wait until the mine is discovered and now that one thing is out of the way you need to start with disciplining your maids and get your nanny kicked out. Biwon had a good life here up to this point because now that you’re here you will make it a living hell for her, and that’s a promise.

“What did you talk about with the duke?” You’re not surprised to find your nanny in your room when you get back. She looks anxious you can see how her nails are bitten and she slightly thumps her foot. You got back early so if you tell her some half-truths, she won’t suspect you that much.

“He didn’t talk to me at all. He only talked with my brother about work that I don’t understand. I don’t know why they keep ignoring me. You’re the only one who cares about me, nanny.” Good thing that the maids left after serving the meal, you would be in trouble if someone overheard you and you were caught lying. You bury your head in her apron to conceal your disgusted expression when she caresses your head.

You need to act like usual, so she won’t suspect a thing. If her guard is down, it will be easier for you to make your move.

You can easily produce some fake tears for the greater good.

“That’s right, only I care about you. Who else would love a useless child like you.” You bite your tongue to hold back when Biwon hugs you. You agree with her even if you want to break her arms that hugs you like a shameless person.

Biwon doesn’t use needles on you again to erase her marks since you started to dine with the duke. Thankfully she doesn’t realise what you’re planning.

The mine you talked about last time turned out to be true and the duke was very happy to get back at the Gold Wing trading company. He started to make a profit thanks to you, and he even listened to your suggestion of lowering the price to sell it to the other houses. Developing the mining ground consumes a lot of money at the moment but the profit will be greater than ever if it’s finished. You asked to have dinner with them every day as a reward which made him look surprised. He reluctantly agreed when you asked to make your contribution a secret for now you can’t let your nanny hear about it just yet. The duke probably thought he would buy you some clothes and accessories and you will be all set. Unfortunately for them, you don’t care about luxuries especially if it comes from them.

While you would prefer to not eat with them you need to show the staff that you’re indeed the lady of the house. Now they are giving you the bare minimum of respect after the maid got scolded by your father after the tableware incident.

You didn’t think Jin would come after you excused yourself from the meal. Right when you leave the dining room your brother appears halting you in your step and grabbing your hand forcefully to stop you in your tracks.

“Where are you going in a hurry so dressed up?” Your wrist throbs in his hold. That bastard how could he grab the hand of his sister so hard? Compared to him your body is so small you look like a child next to him. You’re not surprised since you were malnourished before. You’re sure it will bruise badly but you refuse to show him that he’s hurting you.

“I believe it’s none of my brother’s business where I go in my free time.” You look into his eyes with confidence. Y/N was always longing for her brother’s love but you’re not the real Y/N and you will never consider him your brother, so his attitude doesn’t bother you at all emotionally. He simply became a person you’re forced to live with and tolerate for now.

If everything is over you will cut ties with them for good.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since your probation. If this is your way of seeking attention from father or I, that will never happen no matter what you’re scheming.”

Using the moment of his surprise you get out of his hold and get farther away from him. Your smile says it all. ‘I don’t consider you a brother so go to hell’. You’re getting angry but you refuse to show him any reaction even if you can’t exactly control the fire in your eyes.

“You don’t have to be afraid of that. I don’t consider people who neglect and belittle me my family at all. I don’t need your love or attention anymore.” You show him your back confidently as you walk away from his frozen form.

“Gaon prepare some indigestion medicine for me. Is the carriage ready?” Jin catches your voice talking to your maid still frozen on the spot you left him.

Your eyes looked different. When you were young you used to beg for his affection always clinging to him but now. Why does it look like you despise him and why does it bother him?

He never felt anything for you for a very long time.

“Yes, my lady everything is like you instructed.” You nod satisfied by the way things progress.

Now there’s only one thing left to do.

You’re on your way to meet with the head of the blacks information guild. The only one who could top the Gold Wing trading company by power would be them. The blacks is one of the largest information-selling guilds – trading only to deceive people and hide the fact that they know everything that can be known throughout the empire.

They have men everywhere. The head is conveniently the second young master of house Autumn who currently stays in House Summer territory. Jeon Jungkook is clever enough to know that information is the most important thing to have the upper hand this is how he was able to survive the battle for succession.

It will be probably dangerous to meet him but you will have to take this gamble on if you want things to work out you need the backing of the most powerful guild in the empire.

Convenient that the duke doesn’t care about Y/N’s safety so you don’t need to play hide and seek with the guards you can do your business without getting interrupted. If you say you don’t need an escort, they back off immediately and let you leave.

Following the novel’s description, you look for a house with a red chimney and a black door away from the main streets. Once you find it you have to knock two then three times until someone asks, “Are you lost?” and you have to reply with “Yes can you tell me where can I find black paint?” - and you’re in.

It’s only a select few that know about this code so Jungkook will be suspicious of how a lady with a bad reputation knows about it, but you came to make a deal that he can’t refuse. You can talk around the fact of how you know about their secret entrance.

As you expected Jungkook came himself to greet you, you could recognise that brown hair and emerald eyes anywhere.

“Please have a seat. I prepared some tea.” His smile is pleasant but calculating. His intentions are clear unlike when you talk to your blood relatives, so you’re surprisingly relaxed in his presence. Jungkook is intrigued by your body language. Usually, people are distrustful of him because of his mask. Your eyes tell him that you know more than you look.

“I have a request to make. I would like to know what this liquid is and any information that you can get on it or the bottle.” Jungkook is said to like straightforward people, so you try to be confident.

Jungkook laughs seeing your confidence. You exceed his expectations he heard that you’re stupid and extravagant with a bad temper, but it seems like his information is outdated. That needs to change he smirks.

He gives you credit for realising he wields information. Usually, people come to his guild to do business. Not many know that the purpose of the blacks is different.

“How much will you pay me for the information?”

“I heard I can pay with information for information. I have something important to tell you anyway.”

“Oh.” People rarely have any information that he doesn’t already know but you look so confident that he has to humour you. “Please enlighten me.” Taking a relaxed laid-back pose he awaits your answer.

“The head of the Gold Wing trading company is the current Duke of House Summer and he has a spy in your guild.” The only reason the blacks are not at the top is because of the upper hand they gain from the spy. No one would suspect that Jungkook’s right-hand man is a spy. He causes the guild’s destruction near the end of the novel. Heartbroken from the betrayal Jungkook is stabbed by him in the end.

Jungkook grips the side of the sofa after hearing your daring words until the wood slightly splits. He doesn’t usually trust people so to think that someone betrayed him feels impossible.

“I’m not saying that without evidence. There’s a tree in the back looking directly at the alleyway if you dig the dirt near the roots, you will find a letter with a coded message it was placed there this afternoon so you have to look for it before sunrise. I swear on my life that if I lie to you, you have the right to kill me.” The only way he will believe you is if you match the sacrifice for your accusation. Your life is on the line, but you know you’re right.

Or that you hope it’s the same as in the novel.

Jungkook instructs one of his men to look for the tree. He visibly pales when he sees the man come back with a dirty envelope. He reads the letter with a face of indifference, but you know he is furious deep inside and somewhat sad. Trust is not easily given away by him.

“Who— ” Jungkook closes his eyes to compose himself. “Who is the spy?” He appears distraught which is normal considering the fact you just dumped on him suddenly.

You hesitate for a moment. You know this information will hurt him, but he is entitled to the truth – and you do this to save his life in the end. “It’s Sam.”

You can tell it hit him hard but you don’t think he doesn’t believe you. He might get angry and it’s really not your place to intervene. However, you know this feeling very well. Being betrayed by someone you trusted. If nothing else you can sympathise with that feeling.

“Please excuse my rudeness.” You tell before you impulsively side-hug him. He’s so surprised by your embrace that he doesn’t try to push you away immediately. You’re so warm and your hand is comforting on his back. He doesn’t know you, but it feels like you understand him to some extent.

He closes his eyes and lets this moment pass by. Hidden from prying eyes it’s just – you and him for this moment.

At last, he composes himself and accepts your request. He even gives you a pendant that’s only given to the highest-ranking customers saying that your information is worth that much.

It’s a pretty pendant with a black snake on it. Looks like a masterpiece.

Thankfully nothing out of the ordinary happened while you were out. You were able to enjoy some snacks when you got back in peace as your nanny was on vacation.

You need to make your move while Biwon is away your plan needs to be done by the time she gets back. Thanks to the blacks information guild – you were able to identify the liquid your nanny made you drink every day — you only had to wait two days to hear from them.

Your discovery is enraging and liberating at the same time.

It helped you put the pieces together and even gave you an advantage to work with. To finally know the full truth of what happened to Kim Y/N. This could be a good explanation for why you couldn’t access all her memories or why some things become hazy the longer you thought about it.

Life was way too cruel for a girl like Y/N.

Now that you’ve set up the stage you just need to wait for the protagonists to arrive.

Biwon seems relaxed after her vacation; she probably enjoyed a luxurious life out of the jewellery she stole from you. You’re getting sick just from seeing her smile. It must have felt good to be able to look down on a noble lady and make Y/N cater to her all this time, exploiting a poor young lady. To think that all those rumours come from her to isolate and degrade her. She should smile while she can you think smirking through the rim of your cup.

Now’s showtime.

The taste of tea is familiar in your mouth. Due to double the dose of the liquid she made you drink each morning the symptoms came earlier than you anticipated. Suddenly getting on the drug after you stopped taking it is a huge risk, but you need to prove her involvement in the crime.

You didn’t think it would hurt this much though. Your head clouded over soon, and your body collapsed on the floor in tremor.

Gaon called the doctor immediately as you instructed and while you were getting examined your other trusted maid planted the evidence in your nanny’s room. It didn’t take long to see Biwon try to escape your trap, but it was too late when the knights found the medicine bottle.

She had nowhere to run to.

You regained consciousness but it was hard for you to open your eyes yet. The pain you felt in your abdomen felt unbearable, but you need to see this through till the end.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice this. To tell the truth, the lady came to me often to ask for headache medicine.” You could feel the worry in the doctor’s voice. You feel bad for suspecting him at first. He might be the only one to actually care for Y/N in this forsaken house.

“This drug is called blackroot it’s made from a rare flower that was used in a war experiment in the past. The characteristic of the flower is that it can manipulate the mind – it makes the user unable to control their temper and creates hazy thoughts. While it works as a brainwashing technique it has all kinds of side effects such as explosive temper, haziness, headaches, loss of appetite and memory loss. The longer someone takes it the more fragile that person will become.”

No wonder Y/N is this thin. When you first heard about this drug you felt incredibly furious to make her take such a dangerous drug just because Biwon was greedy for things she couldn’t have.

Once the dizziness subsided you were able to open your eyes it seemed like the medicine the doctor gave you had some effect. The pain is still there but your head is clearer.

“I- didn’t do this! I was framed!” Biwon begs on her knees in front of the duke and young master but seeing their reactions no one actually buys that half-hearted accusation. Serves her right.

You made sure to get solid evidence of her crime.

You’re able to sit up thanks to Gaon’s help and you look down upon your nanny with a hard expression.

You cannot believe this is finally over.

Now no one will dare to take advantage of you after this incident comes to light. It won’t make your reputation restored to how it was before but at least it will provide you with a good opportunity to show the people around you that you’re different without having to fear someone figuring out you’re not the real Y/N.

“Have the witnesses come forward.” The maid who is questioned is shaking like a leaf in front of the duke.

“Who served Y/N tea?” Jin comes forward to interrogate the maids. For some reason, he looks livid. It’s probably because of their pride. How dare they manipulate the duke’s daughter a mere maid. – they probably think like that.

“The nanny always prepares the tea for the lady in the morning. No one was allowed to touch it I swear I didn’t know that the lady’s tea had blackroot in it.”

“That’s right, we were never allowed to serve her tea or be present when she made it we would be only called when the lady was about to get dressed.” If they were present at all you think for yourself as you roll your eyes.

“N- No! That…” Biwon looks around like a cornered animal. It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through. No, you promised the real Y/N that you would not let her go so easily.

“I’ve heard enough. Drag her to the underground dungeon.” After hearing the duke’s command, the knights drag Biwon out of the room. Finally, some quiet. Your head is killing you.

“Everyone leave, now. My daughter needs to rest.” As if seeing it on you that you’re nearly at your limits the grand duke instructs everyone to let you be.

Everyone leaves except for one person. Jin looks torn as he contemplates what to say to his sister.

You know the reason why Jin treated Y/N with contempt is because of that incident in the past. Y/N mad because of withdrawal symptoms from the drug called him a monster. She told him that because of him their mother died, and she even threw a teacup in his face that made him bleed. In reality, she partially blamed him for being forgotten and emotionally abused. After that Jin ignored her altogether. While saying those things are hash and not justified because of the drugs the behaviour of her brother is not something that you can overlook either. There’s no clear line to determine what’s right or wrong. You can’t simply judge if someone deserves forgiveness as it entirely depends on the person who’s granting it.

There are no right or wrong answers.

Their relationship was probably a bad fate. You’re not his sister so you have no intention of making up with him even though he’s wearing that pitiful expression. You feel bad for Y/N but you’re not going to live as her shadow forever. Once this story ends you will leave this kingdom and live as yourself. To make that happen you need to keep your relationship with Y/N’s family distant just like before so you could leave without problems in the future.

“How are you feeling?” Y/N has memories of when her brother spoke to her softly like this. Too bad it’s too late for Y/N to see this. You pull your hand away when he tries to hold it.

“This doesn’t change a thing between you and me. I would appreciate it if you could ignore me like before.” You turn away not inclined to see that pitiful expression on his face anymore.

Thankfully he leaves without a fuss this time.

Things are only growing more awkward as time passes. You made the suggestion of dining with them every day to avoid being punished by Biwon, but it comes back to bite you in the ass now that she’s gone, and no one dares to bother you anymore. You ignore the looks of pity you receive from the staff. They were the ones who ignored and badmouthed you. They have no right to take pity on you at all.

Those who did not try to see the truth don’t deserve to feel regretful.

It's annoying to see the duke and your brother try to get closer to you. They have no idea what Y/N had to go through while they were living in their blissful ignorance.

You wonder if things would have been different if she had been born as a boy in this period. Women are often ill-fated. How tragic.

“Your birthday is coming up in a few months. Do you have something in mind about how you want the celebration banquette?” Your fork freezes in the air when the duke calls you.

While you don’t want a party it would be good to build your reputation. You have no choice but to have one.

“I’ll prepare for it. Thank you for your concern.” You keep your eyes on the food. After taking that double dose your appetite seems to be worse than before. You need to gain some weight, you’re too thin as it is.

“Don’t worry about the budget just prepare how you like.” You’re getting dizzy this is getting bad you overestimated and thought some rest was all you needed. You need to take better care of yourself if you want to beat the final boss of the story. This is about time you meet with your favourite character as well. You need to look your best even if he only glances at you for a second. You’re getting excited just thinking about him.

“Alright. Excuse me I’m full.” You step away from the table to leave and prepare for the upcoming events when you lose your sight for a moment. Thankfully the head butler catches you in time that you’re not faceplanting the floor this moment.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” You push the old man away with reddened ears. This is so embarrassing.

“I’ll carry you to your room.” Your hand automatically holds onto your brother when he suddenly picks you up, to keep your balance. Now you’re really getting tired of their sudden act of affection.

“I said. I’m fine.” You pursue your lips in a frown when he keeps ignoring you to let you down.

“You can hate me all you want. I deserve it but I’m not letting you down.” You’re speechless. At least he knows. It doesn’t matter if he has regrets now that you solved everything.

If it weren’t for your effort and sacrifice things would have been left alone and you would be still suffering without anyone to rely on at the hands of your greedy nanny.

They can feel guilty all they want; it doesn’t change a thing. If anything, you’re feeling angrier about how they think they have the right to make things right after everything that has happened.

It’s bothersome.

“It won’t change anything. No matter how hard you try I’ll never consider you as family again. Not after you and father abandoned me. You don’t know anything about me or how much I suffered. If you didn’t care then don’t care now.” It’s probably hard to hear and somewhat you feel guilty for saying that since you don’t know what Y/N would have wanted but this is how you feel.

You’re torn about what you should do.

This is supposed to be your home when you feel the safest.

However, you can’t remember a single good memory or a time when you felt relaxed in this place. It just makes you sad.

“I understand.” His hand around you tightens just a tiny bit before he relaxes his posture and the hands that hold you gently. At least he’s not trying to come up with excuses. He knows fully well that what you told him was the truth. They have no idea how much you had to suffer since they kept ignoring you. His heart is getting heavy when he realises how light his sister feels in his arms. A woman in her twenties should weight a lot more than this. He’s carrying you with care and gently places you on top of your bed. You have no intention of getting closer to him, but it’s been bothering you for a while ever since you saw that memory. You feel like they don’t deserve your kindness. You wonder if Y/N would be forgiving. If she would be able to embrace them and trust them again. You know you can’t.

“You’re not a monster and I’m sorry for saying that so stop thinking about useless things.” You impulsively grab his hand before he can leave. This is all you can give him as an apology – you know Y/N probably would have wanted him to hear that at least. Something wavers in his eyes. You didn’t think such a small gesture would make him cry. Now that you think about it probably no one said such words to him before. His biggest fear. From an early age, he always heard that his mother died because of him. It shouldn’t be a small child’s fault. It makes you feel like this whole family is just unfortunate.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Jin holds your hand with shaking fingers. You can clearly feel his tears fall as he pushes his face into your palm seeking some comfort. You don’t know how but you can feel that this apology is sincere. You don’t have the heart to push him away this time.

Just this once you will allow it.

“The captain of the imperial guards shouldn’t cry like this.” You pat his head while he cries. Seeing such a powerful figure crying into your skirt on his knees feels weird.

He hadn’t left for a while and even when he did, he looked reluctant. You could tell what he was thinking without having to hear him say it. He’s afraid that the next time you see him you will push him away and avoid him. Your hand on his head and your words comforted him. He’s the one who did wrong but, in the end, you helped him instead deal with his biggest fear a little better.

He realises that he doesn’t deserve such a good sister as you.

His sudden resolve and earnest eyes make you bite your lips in worry. You know it won’t be good when he suddenly turns around with fiery passion. “I, Kim Seokjin give my oath to Kim Y/N that I will protect you for as long as I live. If I break my promise, I’m willing to die a miserable death.” This is your first time seeing someone give their knight’s oath. His hands are elegantly placed over his heart in a kneeling position and his eyes are fierce and honest. Stupid brother, you’re not the one he should give his oath to!

That was not your intention to make him so motivated. You should really learn how to ignore things in the future if you want to avoid bothersome situations like this. It’s not like you can reject him now either.

After he finally left because of work called you collapsed on your bed.

You can’t believe he gives you the knight’s oath instead of the female lead. He’s supposed to fall in love with her and be the miserable second male lead. You expect that things will be different if you change your destiny, but such drastic changes make you anxious for the future development of the plot.

Thankfully your favourite character was not caught up in the love triangle since his territory is the farthest away from the capital. He doesn’t frequent gatherings because of his inability to fully control his powers, and he has a bad reputation overall because of his war achievements and fearful power. Throughout the novel, he is described as someone who doesn’t care about women and is only fixed to find a way to control his abilities.

Min Yoongi you can’t wait to see him at the upcoming hunting festival.

Everything becomes normal and quiet.

Your daily life is better except for the torturous dinners with your family. Thankfully Jin is busy with imperial work and your father manages his new business and duties as a duke, so you don’t have to run into them too much inside the house.

In two or three days you make a trip to see Jungkook and get useful information and sometimes chat over some tea.

What’s next on your list is to gather personal intel on people who will attend the hunting festival. The fact that this is organised by the Duke of Summer is making you anxious. You remember some crazy shit happen around that time and his main target will be your favourite character. Min Yoongi.

Trying not to look too obsessed with a man you’ve never met before you decided to look over his information last.

There’s not much that could be gathered on him (even by a professional information broker as the North keeps their gates locked skin-tight) in the first place the info that your eyes skim through is less than you expected even with the additional stuff that you know because of the novel is limited mostly to his childhood and main events which is not much at all.

He wasn’t present in all the episodes but when he’s involved – well, things were never good.

You don’t know all the archduke’s special abilities which is a concern. You know Min Yoongi can read minds. The limitation to his power is that he has to touch the person to hear all the thoughts but with malicious intent, it doesn’t even need that.

It makes him the second most powerful ability user since he can detect lies and see one’s true self. Someone has to be well aware of his ability to hide something from him.

His special skill is to tell what the other person is thinking good or bad but that means that he could hardly hear his own thoughts. The world is never silent for his ears and that has its consequences. What little is known of them in the outside world is that all the Min descendants had gone mad at some point in their lives and chose to kill themselves when there was another person that could take over the Ducey or their son became of age if they were lucky to hold on until then. Min Yoongi’s tragic childhood is summarised in a few sad lines in the novel it was not overly detailed, but you remember feeling sad.

Whilst your survival is the priority you want to change Yoongi’s fate as well if it’s possible. Even if he’s not going to madly fall in love with you. You want him to have a happy life and not end as tragically as in the novel. You liked his character a lot. Even when he was faced with such hardships, he never gave up he would never succumb to the same fate as his father, and he held on until the last moment of his life.

You admired his determination to live.

You want to do the same with your second chance and hold on until the last moment trying to change your fate.

Who knows maybe you could overcome it together.

So many scenarios run through your head imagining how you will greet him when you finally meet him, what you will say to him. All of those restless nights couldn’t have been wrong when you’re finally faced with him. None of them could get you ready for that hard cold stare that he shows you.

You practically burst open the carriage door after the chaperone states that you’ve arrived.

Being in the same space as your brother and father acting all cute and considerate for almost four full hours made you want to let the ground swallow you whole and never want to see the sun again.

This is when you first make eye contact with him – or so you think. His eyes visibly slip over your face as if he’s not even seeing you just looking through you like you’re one tree of the dozens curving the landscape. It hurts your pride a lot to be invisible to your favourite character, but you gulp it down and hold your head high when you exit the carriage.

You knew it well that he was that type of person, but it didn’t mean it still did not hurt you to see it with your own eyes. There’s one thing to say he’s not interested in women but in reality, it felt like he’s not into humans – not just women. Hearing everyone’s thoughts might be a reason why he would be so over humans that he doesn’t even want to acknowledge them but damn.

Now that you see him and not just read about him you can tell two things already. One, he’s crazy handsome. The lines that describe how good-looking he is does not give him justice. Two, the lines in the novel are too tame to describe how much he loathes to see and interact with anyone. It’s almost comical how disgust is written all over his face when he has to shake hands with nobles or greet the young ladies.

That face still has many admirers even when his expression is a permanent frown all the time. Most likely to his greatest disapproval, he’s very popular with the ladies despite his bad reputation.

You can imagine how annoying it must be for him. Forgetting how you felt hurt before you even started to feel bad for him. His circumstances are unique and, in fact, no one knows what he has to deal with every single day. Even though you know you don’t really know what it feels like.

You’re contemplating how to approach him to not get immediately shut down or seem too suspicious when some of the ladies have you locked in a circle. Seeing their arrogant expressions, you could already tell what would happen when they finally opened their mouths.

“What a surprise to see you attend this year. Are you even allowed to be outside yet?”

You grit your teeth and smile at them.

It’s a waste to argue with them and you’re not here to let them bully you. You came here to see your favourite character and they are already dampening your mood.

“The ladies might need to check their eyesight soon. I arrived here with my brother and father so if you have complaints about me being here you could always go to them.” You speak with a permanent smile but there’s nothing friendly in your expression as you cross them leaving the circle of hyenas behind you.

They’re lesser nobles of course they wouldn’t dare complain to them. Your family is powerful after all one of the four most powerful people in the kingdom is your father. They targeted you specifically because you were an easy target so far too dumb to attack them with words like they do, and Y/N's violent temper just served the right purpose to belittle her and make her the most hated woman in high society. You’re not going to give them the chance to humiliate you anymore. They are just extras in a novel.

The thought alone makes you smile. Right. You’re the main villain in this novel but you’re going to turn it into your story so that you can be the main character in your life.

Something that you always wanted to try.

The first day goes by without incident. After the second day of the hunting festival starts the hunting begins and activities for both the ladies and men begin slowly but surely following the original plot of the novel.

Until there’s a big error occurring in the middle. You don’t remember any banquet happening to welcome the most influential families. This could mean that it wasn’t relevant to the main plot to mention, or things changed somehow and now there’s a sudden dinner plan made by someone.

There’s a banquet held for the four archdukes and their families and while you’re thrilled that you’re seated right across from your favourite character you were not expecting him to death glare you right in front of your salad.   

To your best knowledge you haven’t even greeted him yet so why does he look like he wants to murder your entire family? You’re unsure.

At some point, you stop avoiding him and look him in the eye but still, you can’t read his expression at all.  

You feel like you don’t have to emphasise that you couldn’t eat a single thing at that dinner in peace.

You jump when a man approaches you in the empty hallway and when you look at him something clicks in your mind, now that you think about it you can recognise this man from anywhere. He’s Namjoon his right-hand man the only person that he tolerates.

“You scared the living shit out of me.” You’re so surprised that you don’t check your language before it’s already out in the open. Your eyes are wide as you look at the man probably thinking that you’re a weird person. Shit. Now you’ve done it. You tried so hard until now to remain in character and not use slang words or bad language.

Which is hard on their own as you breathe and live with words that end in fuck most likely than not.

The struggles of a modern woman. Haah.

“I mean you should not hide in the shadows like an assassin ready to strike Mr. You scared me.” You try to put the blame on him entirely so he would forget your previous words and it seems to work as he’s quick to apologise and state his business.

“Duke Min would like to speak with you. If you could please follow me, I will lead you to him.” You narrow your eyes after Namjoon finishes his sentence. Him wanting to see you is very weird.

Why?

“Does this have to do with him glaring at me throughout dinner?” You take a step back narrowing your eyes suspiciously at the man. Even though he’s just the messenger you can’t help but ask. You and him being alone after you witnessed his personality might not be the best idea even if he’s still your favourite character. You don’t want to die by his hands either.

“He.. the duke has a difficult personality but he’s not a bad person. I’m sure he’s just interested in the lady.” You can tell that Namjoon really believes that but for some reason you can’t picture him being interested in you. Y/N might be pretty but the duke is not that kind of person to be captivated by something so shallow as that. That has to be a different reason why he wants to talk with you in private and while you’re anxious.

You decide its best to see what he wants.

Also, he’s not someone that anyone can just say no to. He will most likely force you to meet him. It might be your best option to get this over with and see where this conversation goes. If it even goes anywhere. He’s a practical person like that.

You’re anxious and excited at the same time as you follow Namjoon just a step behind.

“Who are you?” You’re perplexed to meet with this type of question. He cornered you without warning, both his hands were caging your hip, your backside digging into the edge of the table.

You’re scared and strangely excited to be this close. Your heart is beating heavily trying to break out from your ribcage.

“Kim Y/N.” You reply dumbly while still trying to process this sudden change in his behaviour and his closeness to you.

You were greeting him first and suddenly you’re completely caged in.

“Kim? Is Duke Kim your father?” You would find his furrowing brows adorable if you weren’t so close to witnessing it. His scent is overpowering your senses, and your faces are just a hair's breadth away from touching – your favourite character makes it hard for you to think straight. Air is caught in your lungs when he holds you by your chin tilting your head up to meet with his eyes.

“Y-Yes.” You’re unsure what he wants to hear from you. From the moment you stepped into his office, he kept questioning you without answering any of yours in return.

“Am I interrupting something?” Both of your gazes turn to face a surprised Kim Namjoon standing by the door. He looks exactly like he just got here and witnessed something weird happening. You can’t blame him for it, you’re surprised as well. Min Yoongi keeps acting weird. He looks somewhat bewitched as he keeps looking between you and Namjoon almost bordering to look crazy in your eyes for a moment.

As if he’s in a deep thought about something mind breaking discovery.

Yoongi didn’t hear his right hand man coming at all but what’s even weirder than that is he can’t hear his thoughts at all.

It all started when he tried to read this woman’s mind throughout the dinner celebration but failed while everyone’s else mind spoke to him clearly. He found it strange for her to be the only exception. As if she has a shield around her mind that doesn’t allow his power to penetrate. The Kim family’s power is to neutralize other powers (everyone is aware of it as the family never tried to hide it) but that can’t be the answer since he could hear their thoughts all the same as you have to be aware of the power you’re trying to block but no one knows that he can read minds.

But now upon making contact with her, he can’t even hear what others are thinking. Which could mean her power is even more rare compared to her family. Everything is quite like it was never before. It’s unsettling but on the other hand, it’s quiet and peaceful.

A realisation draws on him that Kim Y/N might be the key to finally learning to control this power of his that has been plaguing his generation of heirs and forcing them to live a miserable life until they either take their lives or become insane. Her power acts like a tranquillizer almost. Tasting this peaceful silence Yoongi’s hand curves around her waist more protectively. Protective of this silence he’s experiencing for the first time in his life.

He will do anything to keep this woman by his side from now on. He comes to a firm resolution on the spot.

“Be my wife.” To say you feel shocked after hearing that would be an understatement. This is not your usual love confession, and you know it. There’s nothing tender in his words or expression if anything it feels like a business transaction to you.

It’s clear he’s proposing an arranged marriage kind of deal where you both get something out of it but you’re not fond of the idea. In your previous life, you never had a real boyfriend whilst you dated here and there. Someone you could say is the love of your life you never once experienced that feeling, and you don’t want a marriage in your second life without love. You decided to do anything you wanted from now on.

“I’m sorry but I have to refuse your proposal. I won’t marry a man I know is not in love with me and I don’t love him either. This is not something I want.” Too shocked to reply you use that time to get out of his hold and get away before he regains his senses after getting rejected. He probably didn’t think anyone would dare to say no to him as he was aware to be popular with the ladies. This just makes you even more unique as it was anyone else, they would have said yes immediately to an offer like that. Namjoon gets out of your way as you leave, his mouth hanging open still trying to process that the man who notoriously hates women suddenly asked for a lady’s hand in marriage and getting brutally rejected by one at the same time.

The door shuts behind you abruptly and Yoongi massages his temple with his hands trying to figure out what he did wrong for you to storm out like that. Was his proposal not to your liking? What does it even mean to marry the person you love is beyond his comprehension.

[fanfictionsweetheart]

Touch

Pairing: Seth Rollins x Reader

Summary: (Name) and Seth are in his dressing room and she can’t keep her hands off of him. He loves it.

Trigger/Content Warning(s): this is filth, smut, rough sex, piv sex, fingering, oral sex (make receiving) deep throat, gagging, finger sucking, dirty talk, degradation/humiliation, praise, use of the title Messiah in a sexual way, (is this blasphemous, I don’t care), Dom/sub, semi-public sex, cum play/eating

Word Count: 4000 (I might have been truly inspired by this idea, my hands ran away with me)

A/N: I love you for this request, I hope you like what I did with it. Seth is truly filthy inspiration. Also to the anon who requested the Randy Orton fic, I am still working on it, don’t worry, this one just ran away with me first.

Tags: @eringobragh420

Based on this image:

(Name) didn’t know what it was about Seth that turned her knees to jello. Maybe it was the way he held himself along with his good looks. His body was sculpted by the gods to go with a handsome face. He took care of himself too.

His long hand and beard were always clean and well groomed.

And the way he tended to dress in and out of the ring would put most runways to shame.

He wasn’t afraid to wear bright colors and patterns.

But tonight...he was in black.

His long hair was tied back.

His tan torso teasing her and glistening with both oil and sweat.

She couldn’t control herself. The second she saw him in that gear her eyes wandered his body, focusing on the onpenneas of the jacket. The way it hung exposed his chest and abs earning the most appreciation from her.

Seth knew what he did to her as well. He could always tell when he was affecting her more than usual.

But tonight seemed to be even more intense. Like she was a volcano waiting to explode. Her lust rumbling just below the surface.

He noticed every time he would shift her eyes would follow him. Almost like a predator stalking their prey.

But they both knew who was the dominant one in their relationship.

Whenever she got the chance her hands were all over him. Wrapping her arms around one of his. Trailing her fingers along his abs absentmindedly as they talked with his arm over her shoulders. Setting her hands on his shoulders and rubbing his chest when she faced him.

He was relishing in the near worship she was bestowing on him.

“Something on your mind, gorgeous?” He asked when her hands landed on the bare part of his chest again.

(Name) blushed and looked down a bit shy. She had done so many things with him before but every time he made her say what she was thinking or wanted she froze.

Which only made Seth’s smirk widen. He gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her head up. The smooth feeling of his black leather gloves making her practically shake. It was even more erotic than she could process.

“Come on, talk to me Princess,” He purred.

They were alone in his dressing room. She knew that. But they were still backstage at Raw. People they both worked with were right outside the door.

“Seth…” she squealed.

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound like the right name, does it, sweetheart?” He said, voice low causing a shiver to run down her spine once more.

“Daddy,” She whined, “I can't…”

“Yes you can,” He said, “Tell me what you want and you can have everything.”

She knew that it would be easier to show him what she wanted. She began to run her hands along his torso again, slipping under the open jacket a bit. She leaned in and began to kiss along his collarbone and neck. Doing her best to convey what she wanted.

Seth smirked, she was always so tactile. He loved it. His gloved hands were back on her hips gripping them firmly.

She began to kiss down his chest. Her hands caressing his abs. She moaned softly against his skin.

Finally she looked up at him, her eyes sultry. She bit her lower lip as he looked down at her. She could tell that her actions were having an effect on him. The way his bulge was straining against his tight pants. One of her soft, skilled hands lowered to grope his cock through them.

“Let me be a good girl for you...please give me permission to worship you...My Messiah,” she breathed.

The effect of her words was instantaneous. One of his hands moved to cradle the back of her head while the other wrapped around her waist. He yanked her closer, forcing her body to be flush with his while crashing his lips to hers.

She moaned and continued to rub him through his pants. She could hardly control her hands as she kissed him. One hand moving to hold the back of his neck while she jerked him tad best she could over his clothes. He groaned into her mouth.

He broke the kiss and looked at her, her eyes heavy lidded and needy. He traced her jaw with his gloved fingers and smirked at how she shivered.

“Open,” He ordered as his fingers traced over her lips.

She was quick to obey. He slipped two of his fingers into her mouth and rubbed them over her tongue. The taste of the gloves made her whimper. She closed her lips around his fingers and sucked on them moaning as she did.

Seth grinned, the look dark and predatory. And it nearly made her knees buckle. Her cheeks were flushed dark as she didn’t what he wanted her to do.

“Undo my pants and pull me out, stroke me,” He ordered her.

(Name) moaned and nodded around his fingers. She undid his gear pants with slightly shaking hands. She got them open enough to pull his cock out of them. He was hard and ready for her touch.

She wrapped her hand around him and began to stroke him while sucking his fingers. Seth let out a groan, his eyes blazing into hers.

“Good girl...that’s it...this is how you worship me right? By doing everything I say, by being a good girl for me.” He growled.

He pressed his fingers further into her mouth making her gag slightly. A moan leaking out afterwards.

Her hand kept working his cock how he liked, even with how lightheaded this whole interaction was making her.

He pulled his fingers from her mouth making her whine at their loss. He gripped her chin with that same hand, keeping her mouth open when he squeezed it just so.

“Get on your knees and worship me,” He ordered her.

“Yes sir,” she breathed.

Seth quickly moved his hand to grip her neck, no pressure just holding it, a show of dominance that made her want to beg him for more.

“What was that name?” He asked her darkly.

“I’m sorry, My Messiah, I’ll be good,” she whimpered.

“Get on your knees and suck my cock like the good little worshipper I know you can be,” He ordered her.

They didn’t really play like this often before and neither wanted to stop. She dropped to her knees eager when he let go of her neck. She quickly leaned in and took him into her mouth. No hesitation. No cares that the door wasn’t locked. That it would be all too easy for someone to walk in and see her worshipping Seth’s cock like a whore...devout worshiper.

In fact that seemed to make her wetter when she focused on it.

Seth for his part groaned while looking down at her. She was a strong and confident woman, a skilled wrestler...yet she so eagerly dropped to her knees to submit to him.

“That’s it...suck my dick, sweetheart, you like how it tastes don't you?” He growled, “You’re my most loyal worshipper aren’t you?”

She moaned while bobbing her head, her bright eyes locked on his handsome face. There was something about the power he exuded in these moments that made her willing to submit to him in every single way he asked for.

And he always rewarded her for her worship and submission.

“Come on, Princess, you can take more, can’t you? I know you can.” He purred.

She bobbed her head more, taking him deeper into her mouth, the tip teasing at the entrance to her throat. Before he had to tell her she pressed herself down more and took him to the base, gagging and moaning all at once.

The growling groan he let out hit her between the legs. It was perfect.

She pulled off just enough to get some air before she pressed herself back down. Doing her best to tease him with her tongue when she wasn’t deep throating him. He loved the sounds she made when she sucked his dick like this.

It made his head spin.

She was far too good with her mouth. Good on the mic, in the ring, and on her knees. She was perfect.

He let her repeat the actions a couple more times before he grasped her hair to urge her off of it.

“I’m not cumming down your throat right now, you wanna worship me properly you know that I get to feel that cunt cumming on my cock,” He growled.

(Name) nodded like a bobble head, “Yes My Messiah,” she whimpered.

“Stand and strip,” He ordered her.

“Yes My Messiah,” She said obediently.

He was merciful and helped her to stand. But he crossed his arms and stepped back to allow her to remove her own clothes. She bent to take off her boots before tossing them to the side. She made quick work of her dress, she hadn’t had a match scheduled tonight so she wasn’t wearing her gear. So seeing Seth in his whole she wasn’t in hers had definitely heightened her desires.

She tossed the dress aside and looked at Seth to check if he wanted her fully nude yet or not. By the dark look in his eyes she knew that he did. She undid the front hook on her bra and tossed it aside with her dress. Then her panties joined the pile of clothes.

She stood in front of him now, naked and presented to him. Her hands behind her back in the proper position.

“Good girl,” he praised, “Always so obedient.”

“Only for you, Messiah,” She said coyly.

“That’s right, only for me,” He said stepping forward.

He brought his gloved hand up again and tapped her lips once more with his first two fingers. That was all the instruction she needed to let her mouth fall open for him. The smirk that brought to Seth’s face made her shiver. The way he was looking at her right now as though he wanted to devour her...it made her mind fuzzy in the best of ways.

He pressed his fingers back inside of her mouth and she eagerly began to suck them like she had his dick only a few minutes ago.

She swirled her tongue over the digest. She knew that based on his gloves he might not be able to feel much of what she was doing. But that didn’t matter. It was the control, the submission...the worship that got them both off in this situation.

He began to move his fingers a bit in her mouth. Dragging them over her eager tongue. Pressing as deep as possible to make her gag before going back to letting her suck on them. He did it again.

Dragging his fingers over her tongue.

Pressing them deep until she gagged, holding them just a second or two longer than before.

Then pulling them back so she could continue sucking them.

Then he did it all over again. She never knew when he was going to and that only served to make her wetter. The entire time his dark brown eyes seemed almost black with lust, heated like coal, as he stared at her.

Watching her.

Taking in every movement of her mouth. The drool that gathered in the corners of her mouth and dribbled down her chin every time he pressed his fingers deep again. Dropping onto her breasts as he kept up the actions.

Soon he added his voice to the mix.

“That’s it Princess, you’re doing so well, sucking my fingers like that.”

“You look so good when you gag...c’mon give me another one…”

“This mouth belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

She nodded around his fingers moaning. He pulled them out and gripped her chin again.

“Doesn’t it?” He asked.

“Yes My Messiah!” She exclaimed breathlessly.

“This pussy does too, doesn’t it?” He asked and moved his hand from her chin while nudging her legs further apart with his foot.

He trailed the gloved fingers that she had just coated in her spit while sucking them along her wet and sensitive slit. He grinned and stroked her again. Slipping between her lower lips to tease her already quivering hope. He could tell she was wet by how easily his fingers could slip along her.

Her breaths were coming in in soft pants while he teased her. She had moved her hands to rear against his chest for balance.

“You’ve been wet all night haven’t you?” He asked while licking his lower lip, “I make you this wet?”

“Yes Messiah...only you…” she whimpered.

“And then I didn’t touch you until now...have you been suffering all night, too horny to think?” He cooed cruelly.

She nodded and whined, “Yes Messiah.”

“But you had to earn my touch didn’t you? Had to prove you were worthy enough, by worshipping me properly, right?” He asked, teasing her entrance with the tip of his fingers again.

“Yes Messiah…” she wanted to ask him to finger her, to give her some relief.

But she just bit her lip. Asking for what she wanted always made her shy, even when she’d just had his dick then fingers in her mouth sucking them like a degenerate.

“C’mon now, Princess, be a good girl and tell me what you want,” He cooed.

“Nnnn...please..” She squeaked as he teased her hole again, before using his thumb to rub her clit.

“Please what? Does my loyal worshipper want a reward?” He purred his dark eyes knowing.

She nodded shyly, her hands clenched into fists now, against his bare chest.

“Be a good girl and ask me for it, or I’ll stop and you won’t get to touch me or have me touch you for the rest of the night,” he said sternly.

“P-Please Messiah...please...can...can I…” she whimpered as he teased her again, his thumb adding more pressure to her clit.

“Speak up or I won’t even let you touch yourself!” Seth warned her.

The deep timbre of his voice at that moment had her shaking. Finally she managed to squeak out what he wanted from her.

“C-Can I have my reward, Messiah, please, I’ve been such a good girl for you...I worshipped your cock and your fingers just how you like…” She gasped, “Can I please have your fingers as a reward, Messiah?!”

The darkness of his grin should be scary, but (Name) loves it. He slipped those two fingers into her soaking channel easily. The feeling of the gloved digits was intense. It was dirty. It was perfect.

“Thank you My Messiah!” She moaned.

He hadn’t even moved his fingers yet and it was almost too much. The first crook he gave them had her knees almost buckling.

Seth just laughed and leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. His eyes bored into hers.

He began to leisurely finger her. Proving his ownership of her with every movement. For her part (Name) just moaned, her eyes watery with pleasures tears.

He sped his fingers up briefly to make her moan more before slowing them down again. Not letting her get too used to a pace and risk ruining the fun too soon.

She was gripping his jacket now, body shaking as he rewarded her with his fingers.

“Thank you Messiah! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She moaned over and over.

Seth worked her up towards and orgasm and kept her there, teetering on the edge. She wouldn’t cum without permission. She knew better. When they were like this her every orgasm or moment of pleasure belonged to him.

“You wanna cum?” He asked her darkly.

“Y-Yes Messiah...m...may I?” She asked.

“Not yet, you gotta take my cock in this perfect little pussy before I let you cum,” he said, “Do you understand me?”

“Yes Messiah…” She whined, the way he curled his fingers and rubbed her clit made it hard to keep control but she did as he told her.

She was a devout worshiper. She knew how to behave.

He fingered her for a few minutes more, turning her reward into a delicious torment.

He slowed his fingers to a stop when her thighs began to shake. He gently pecked her lips. But even that felt like torment.

“Get over there and bend over the arm of the couch, present yourself for me,” He ordered her.

“Yes My Messiah!” She squeaked.

He slipped his fingers out of her and sucked his middle finger clean. He pulled it out of his mouth with a lewd pop before pressing his forefinger to her lips. She opened her mouth and dutifully cleaned her juices off his gloved finger.

“Good girl,” He purred, “Now get into position.”

She nodded and did as he said as quickly as possible. Her legs were shaking but she still managed to make it over to the couch in his dressing room. She leaned over it.

“No no, the other side,” Seth said, standing there with his arms crossed as he watched her, his hard cock bobbing between his legs.

He was still mostly clothed, or as clothed as he could be considered in his gear. She looked up and blushed darkly. He wanted her facing the large mirror sitting off to the side. But she has one small reservation she had about that. Because not only would she be facing the mirror...but the door as well.

The door she knew to be unlocked.

Still she obeyed. Moving to the other end of the couch and bending over it.

“I want to see your face while I fuck this tight pussy from behind,” Seth growled.

She let out a whine. She knew she could safeword out. But she didn’t want to.

He moved behind her and groped her hips, adjusting her into the exact position he wanted her in. He rubbed his hard cock against her groaning at how wet she was.

“Do you want this?” He asked.

“Yes My Messiah, I want your cock,” she whimpered.

Seth grinned and lined himself up. He pressed in with one smooth thrust, burying himself to the hilt. The moan (Name) let out was louder than she expected. Her hand came up to cover her mouth in shock.

Seth just laughed darkly, his grip on her hips tight while he eased himself out before slamming back in. She whimpered and moaned into her hand.

Her wet pussy was gripping him perfectly. It didn’t want to let him go. Seth was already panting. It felt so good. Especially when he could feel her thighs shaking against his.

“That’s it, that’s the pussy I’ve been craving,” He growled.

“Messiah...oh fuck…” she moaned while still trying to control the volume of her voice, “You’re so big…”

Seth growled and began to buck his hips harder. The sloppy sound of her pussy accepting his cock was perfect.

“That’s my good girl, that’s it...take it…” He growled, “You were made for me...made to take this dick...my perfect little princess...my devout priestess…”

That was a new one and it had her squeezing him tighter. She moaned loudly against her hand. She did her best to press back into him.

“Oh, are you chasing your pleasure now?” He laughed darkly, “Or are you trying to please me?”

“Please you! I wanna please you, My Messiah!” She whimpered, “Let me please you!”

He groaned and used their position to yank her back onto him every time he thrust into her. Hitting her deeper and harder. Dragging against her inner walls roughly just how she liked.

It made her head spin. She started to sag forward a bit while still doing her best to press back against him.

Seth shot a hand out to dig into her hair and yank her back up.

“Look at yourself,” he demanded, forcing her to look at her reflection in the mirror, “being fucked by your Messiah like a whore.” He groaned, “You take it so well too, you like it don’t you? You serve me so well, my truly devoted priestess.”

She whined, her pussy clenching around his cock. The degradation and humiliation were mixing together with the praise had her body lighting up in all the right ways. She moaned, digging her fingers into the couch to try and ground herself in some way.

He bucked harder, chasing his own orgasm. But he had to feed her cum first.

He moved his other hand around her body and slipped his hand underneath her to swirl around her clit. Letting go of her hair lean over her body.

“Can I cum, Messiah?” She begged, “Can I please cum?! I’ve been so good tonight.”

“Cum!” He ordered her, “Cum for me so you can milk my cock.”

She gasped and moaned shrilly as his relentless cock and skilled, gloved fingers on her clit drove her to the edge and finally...finally threw her body over it. She came with a high pitched whine of his name and a rush of liquid between her thighs, soaking him, herself, the couch in her juices.

It only took a few more deep thrusts for Seth to bury himself inside of her as he came hard. Filling her with his warm, creamy release.

He placed a gentle kiss between her shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” he praised her.

He pulled out with a hiss and helped her stand back up and turn to face him. To rest back against the couch. He reached down and gathered up some the mixture of their release from between her legs before bringing his gloved fingers to her lips for the final time that night.

Despite how worn out she was, she dutifully opened her mouth to clean his fingers up. Moaning at the mixture of their flavors.

After he pulled his fingers out he cupped her cheek and pulled her into a kiss.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked her tenderly.

“I’m amazing,” she laughed breathlessly, “Exhausted but amazing.”

Seth helped her over to sit on the couch while he situated himself back into his pants and gathered up her clothes. He helped her get cleaned up and redressed all while lavishing praise on her. Assuring her he loved her and anything harsh he said or did was only for fun and pleasure.

After she was dressed he grabbed a towel and cleaned up the side of the couch and floor. He got her some water. He grabbed her bag to get her a makeup wipe to clean her face up so nobody would know just how hard he hand fucked her ar work.

“You gonna be okay while I’m out there?” He asked, making her laugh, still loopy with the aftereffects of her orgasm.

She’s forgotten that he hadn’t even had his match yet.

“I think I’m just gonna take a nap with the TV on,” She said, “You wore me out.”

He chuckled and nodded. Of course. He knelt on the floor and stroked her hair until she had fallen asleep.

With a gentle kiss on the forehead he stood up. Switching the gloves from his gear out. He would feel too dirty if he used something he’d just used to pleasure his partner to inflict pain in the ring. It would be an insult to her.

He made a mental note to run by catering before his pre-match promo to grab her something sweet for when she woke up. Even if she didn’t wake up in time for his match he didn’t care. All he wanted was to know that he had done all he could to take care of her.

Before he left his dressing room he glanced at her serene face as she slept on the couch and tender smile gracing his features. How on earth did he get so lucky?

[hannie-dul-set]

heartbeat conquest — day 2.

SYNOPSIS. you’re sucked into a reverse harem otome game, and there’s only one goal— say the right things to conquer as many pretty boys as you can. PAIRINGS. tomorrow x together x reader. TAGS. social media! au, modern fantasy, reverse harem (of fucking course), romance, humor, a whole bunch of weird dynamics maybe HUAHAHAHAHAHHAAH. inspired by the manhwa with the same title, “heartbeat conquest.”

considering the less than bare minimum amount of information you have on your targets, it wasn’t easy to come up with a decision.

of the five, you have managed to unlock three. sanctuary is choi beomgyu. you have no idea why that’s his nickname when the first thing he does is boss you around. his interest is evident in his 0% conquest rate (for now). from what you can surmise based on the description the system gave you— him being an arrogant and egotistical fuck— you believe you might do yourself and him a favor by humbling him a little. in short, you’re not showing up.

another contradictory nickname to the interaction is savior— kang taehyun. now, what is up with this guy? 

admittedly, you might have slipped up, not catching onto the passive-aggression of his first text, but you were going off of no context, so forming a positive response would have been close to impossible. still, from what you know so far, it would be difficult to figure out what exactly is on saturday. hence, it would be difficult to prepare for.

now lover is an interesting guy. choi yeonjun. he texts you that he misses you and is shocked when you respond because…he thought you blocked him? is your ex? a player? he seems to be an attention-seeker, and you have an inkling that making him want your attention would be the best move. therefore, you’re not seeing him this saturday. it seems like he and beomgyu also know each other. picking one over the other might cause some conflicts.

that leaves two targets that have yet to be unlocked: angel and knight.

both appear to be your typical sweet, polite, soft boy love interests from a shoujo manga.yet that’s all you’re working with for now. it would be best to pick one of them. just to dig in deeper and find out more.

though, you’re meeting choi soobin at two in the afternoon, you’re already out and about by 10:00 a.m.

first, to get yourself familiar with the environment, of course. you had the idea that this is some preppy private university, but the scale of TSC is just atrociously large. there are facilities for almost everything, training grounds for every single field and specialization. how you managed to find your way to EB 201 was a revelation.

turns out you— or the character you’re playing— is quite well-known around campus. as a transferee who got admitted late into your second year of university, your talent having been discovered late.

“it’s the first room up the stairs,” jaeyun tells you, one of the students you’d just asked around for directions. he’s bright and smiley and, quite frankly, very good looking that you almost mistook him for a love interest or target. but all your targets so far seem to have known you. and when you tapped on jaeyun’s shoulder thirty minutes ago, armed with a smile and prettily batting eyes, he seemed to be taken and taken off guard right off the bat, and asked for your name and major. “or...or would you like me to accompany you upstairs? let me carry your bag for you!”

the otome effect is quite impressive. “it’s alright,” you smile at him. jaeyun droops and his energy deflates. “i can take it from here. thank you!”

since he isn’t any of your targets, you feel no remorse leaving him behind while you climb up the stairs, shoulder in bag in tow. and just as jaeyun says, you’re met with the door labeled 201. a beat of hesitation creeps up on you. but there seems to be no other options than to just knock and follow your target’s instructions.

so, you do. your knuckles hit the wooden door. once. twice. three times. knock, knock, knock.

a click and a creak. the door opens to another good looking guy. “hi! sorry to interrupt. is choi soobin around?” but he isn’t the one you’re looking for.

in fact, the one you’re looking for is very easy to find. because even when you take a peek into the room and are met with around six, seven other men, your eyes immediately land on choi soobin.

how? 

because he’s the only one with a big purple heart floating right above his head, with a bright and shining 0% right inside it.

“soobin!” the doorman hollers out with a huge grin. “a girl is looking for you!” choi soobin need not that signal to notice you, because he already has, from the moment he caught your eyes, and you greet him with a smile and  wave. you notice a few of the other guys staring and getting flustered a bit, wavering to bump their shoulders and elbow at your target, coughing inaudible whatevers, yet the percentage on choi soobin’s head refuses to waver, even with the faint pink brushing his cheeks, the shaking of his head when he mumbles something inaudible to his friends.

of course, this game wouldn’t give you the grace of an easy difficulty. looks like this guy is deeper than he appears.

“quit it,” you hear him laugh off before jumping to his feet, getting off from his seat. “you’re giving everyone the wrong idea.” 

“i’m sure we all have a pretty good idea of what’s going on here.”

“later, dude! have fun with your assignment.”

his friends’ insinuating remarks aside, you can’t help notice that despite choi soobin’s apparent easygoing air, with each step that he takes to approach you, you can sense his ease slowly disappearing, melting into a jittery nervousness that’s masked by that same charming, boyish smile you saw on his photo.

“did you wait long?” he says, standing right before you now, giving you the privilege to bask in the perfection that the system described. it almost made you miss the hard swallow he forces in— right in the second before he takes away the weight of your bag from you. “sorry about that. i should’ve waited outside.”

“oooh! choi soobin, quit flaunting your moves!”

choi soobin shushes them. you use it as a chance to get a better look inside the classroom. “not at all,” you reply, and it doesn’t appear as though they were just conducting a meeting. why is he saying that he should’ve waited outside when he instructed you to knock and ask for him? “let’s go?”

he looks at you, smiling ever so perfectly. “sure.”

now, in order to avoid any massive fuck-ups, you made sure to look through all the shit in your dorm room earlier. anything that can provide some hints and contexts of this damned gamed that you got sucked into. you discovered that you were majoring in international relations. you discovered that your class with choi soobin is a just a simple elective on organizational communication, and all there is to your paired assignment is to write a report on max weber and henri fayol’s bureaucratic theory and scientific management, and would take an hour maximum to do so you don’t get why choi soobin was making such a big deal out of it.

he’s hard to understand, that’s for sure. you don’t get what his motives are. especially when he’s pulling out all the fucking stops by opening the large, library door before you could even more your arm an inch, by dragging your chair out for you before you could even reach out for it. “do you want to rest for a but? i’ll cover the sunlight for you,” he says, when he can just pull down the blinds because he led you to the tables next to the window because “the view is pretty here,” he says. and when you suggest to transfer to a less crowded spot because people started pouring in at two-thirty, he strongly went against it.

“it—it isn’t that crowded yet,” cho soobin argued. “do you mind if we transfer a little later?”

how odd. what’s even more odd is despite all of his explicit acts of interest—

“what’s— what’s wrong? is there something in my hair?”

why is that floating thing above his head still at zero?

“nothing,” you hum in response, smiling. choi soobin looks mortified at the prospect of something unbelonging in his hair that he whips out a hand mirror. “will you excuse me for a bit?”

he settles down the mirror, a hesitant hand lowering down to the desk. “o—oh. yeah, sure,” he responds. “will you take long?”

“would it be a problem if i will?” you bounce back. he shakes his head and tells you to go ahead, carry on, attempting to reshape his distraughtness with a practiced smile of ease.

hints? progress? what? you can’t dwell on the sudden updates from this damned system, because when you look up from your phone, you see soobin surrounded by a lot of people. different people. not the same ones you saw from the classroom earlier. “you ditched hanging out with us to work on an assignment?” one of them says, jokingly. soobin denies it with a laugh. “aren’t you working on that new pretty transferee from IR? did she ditch you too?” another one raises. well, you already know that the premise of this game has your name floating around and about. it feels weird to hear it upfront, though.

“haha, no, she just left to answer some texts.”

soobin’s defense sounds weak. he’s brushing them off with the same easygoing attitude. “you really went for it, huh?” one of them hums, nudging him. maybe this is your cue to interrupt. “i told you you two would look together! didn’t i?”

ah. it definitely is your cue to interrupt.

“soobin?”

ding!

“should we get back to work?”

the moment you step in, you see it— that mocking percentage flickering from zero to one. 

1%. huh.

that’s interesting. 

“yeah. good timing.”

choi soobin looks at you with an expression that you can only describe as gratefulness.

“sorry, guys! we still have a lot of work to do.”

this is interesting, indeed. you’re surrounded by a bunch of expectant eyes of bystanders left and right, like they’re watching a movie right before their eyes— and you and choi soobin are the main leads. this is quite the situation. and your co-star appears to be both nervous and relieved: relieved that you showed up, nervous while waiting for you to react or respond.

now, how should you deal with this situation? and how do you settle the other four you just ignored?

NOTE. the questions are a bit abstract this time HUAHAHAHAHHA hopefully they aren’t too difficult to answer 😭 i personally hate the limited response choices in otome games bcs most of the time, i won’t act or say in ways that are readily provided. i hope ur all the same as me so u can enjoy this game too 😞😞😞

also, i’ve received feedback that they’d like their actual names to be put instead of the nicknames, and dw!! i will change it to their real names once all of them have been unlocked HAHAHAH.

as usual, answer the form linked above to progress the story. i will close the form once i’ve reached a consensus in the responses. hope you’re all still having fun!! thank you for joining in!!

DAY 1 | DAY 2 | DAY 3 (LOCKED) . . .

heartbeat conquest. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.