#and as always...welcome to fucking wednesday

[tanjir0se]

As the World Caves In--Part 1 of 2

Pairings: Rengiyuu Words: 2.3k/? Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Everybody Lives AU Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Canon-typical Violence, Medical Procedures, Blood

It felt like he was in a dream. No, a nightmare. Any moment now he’d wake up screaming, heart pounding in his ears until it settled back to a normal pace. Any moment now he’d be back in the mansion gardens with Rengoku by his side, wisteria on the breeze, warm from the sun and the sound of Rengoku’s laughter. All he could hear now was his own heartbeat, all he could smell was the sharp copper scent of blood. His entire field of view had gone red. 

Summary: Giyuu was fortunate enough to be on a mission just South of the Mugen Train crash and the site of Rengoku's battle with Akaza. Now he's all that stands between Kyojuro and death.

Thank you to @babykirara for the amazing header she made for me that I can't stop using to decorate my various putting of Giyuu in Situations

UPDATE: read part 2 here!

Giyuu rarely put much thought into where Rengoku was headed on his missions. Being a Hashira seemed as easy for him as breathing, swordplay coming as naturally as the ease of his conversations. As much as he missed their walks in the gardens, their one-sided conversations, the hot flush on his face while they sparred in the training grounds, the idea of Rengoku facing genuine danger was foreign to him. 

As for himself, quite a few times Giyuu had awoken in the Butterfly mansion, bandaged and bleeding and bruised, always with Rengoku waiting by his side. He’d chide him for his recklessness, extol his strength as a demon slayer, and offer to help him train during his recovery. Their positions had yet to be reversed. Rengoku was…well, he was Rengoku. The flame Hashira would return with a few scrapes here and there, but they were easily outshined by his bright-as-the-sun smile. It was easy to ignore them. 

Until it wasn’t. Until that day. 

Giyuu sheathed his sword and exhaled, watching the demon he’d just decapitated smolder apart, ashes drifting into the early dawn sky. He’d been on the case of a demon at a local theater for a few days when he’d received a raven with a letter from Rengoku, telling him all about the latest mission he’d been assigned to: investigating the Mugen Train. It never took very long for Rengoku to return from whatever mission he was on, so Giyuu figured he’d hear all about it once they both returned to the mansion. 

The piercing cry of his crow nearly made him jump as he was turning to find his way back to the mansion. 

“Backup urgently requested! Backup urgently requested!” His crow was screeching as it fluttered down onto his shoulder. “Flame Hashira Kyojuro Rengoku requires urgent assistance in his pursuit of the Mugen Train demon!” Giyu leaned slightly away from its shrill voice directly in his ear. His eyes widened. 

“What happened?” He gripped his sword hilt with white knuckles. Rengoku never requested assistance, not in all the years they’d been Hashira together. His stomach clenched tightly, nearly painfully, Giyuu readied himself to run. 

“The train has crashed just north from here! An upper rank demon has appeared in the fight!” The crow reported. 

All at once Giyuu couldn’t breathe. His throat clamped shut, chest heaving, and all he could manage through the strangling grip of fear was three words: “Take me there.”

***

Giyuu could recall only one time he’d run so fast in all his life: nearly twenty years ago. Cold air had torn through his lungs but he hadn’t slowed. He couldn’t. The more distance he put between himself and the strangers he’d been left in the care of, the more likely he’d find someone who would listen to him. He couldn’t save his sister, but maybe if he kept running he’d find someone who could help him save someone else. The last thing he remembered that night was collapsing into the snow, exhausted, throat raw. In his exhaustion he remembered seeing her standing there, watching him with her sad eyes and raven-black hair. That was his last image of her. 

He couldn’t save his sister. All his life he’d never forgotten that helplessness. Now, following his crow toward the ever-growing plumes of smoke on the horizon, he felt it growing in his gut again. Not him. Anyone but him. 

The sun was beginning to rise as Giyuu came to the scene of the train crash. Aside from the murmur of survivors helping each other out of the wreckage, and the distant crackle of flames, it was eerily quiet. Whatever upper rank demon had been here would be long gone. The impending sunlight made sure of that. Perhaps Rengoku had simply defeated the upper rank before the sun rose, leaving the battlefield in silence. He certainly wouldn’t put it past him. And hoping was easier at the moment than despair. 

A surprising streak of pink caught his eye in the shadow of one of the train cars. Giyuu jogged toward it, picking up his speed when he realized what it was. 

“Nezuko.” he said stupidly, finding it to be the only thing he could think to say. The blond-haired kid that was always hanging around her was kneeling beside her with Tanjiro’s box open, ushering her inside. She looked up when she saw him, her magenta eyes glistening. The blond followed her gaze and gasped when he saw him. 

“Mr. Tomioka--”

“Where is Rengoku?” Giyuu interrupted. The blond just shook his head at him, eyes wide with fear, and pointed toward a grove of trees on the far end of the wreckage. Giyuu wordlessly followed his direction. 

He heard the sobs before he saw anything. The sky was thick and hazy with clearing smoke. Just over a small ridge he found a clearing before a large grove of trees. The ground was scarred with slashes from a sword, footprints in a fighting stance, trenches were a body had been blown back by some great force. The dirt glistened with blood, for a moment it was the only color in the gray-brown haze of smoke and dirt kicked up from battle.

Giyuu stumbled down the hill into the smoke. The sobs were getting louder, his chest was getting tighter, he doubted he’d be able to breathe even without the caustic cloud around him. After a few seconds of searching, Giyuu’s eyes fell on a flash of yellow, bright as the sun. Rengoku. 

“Kyojuro!” Giyuu managed. Hope and relief carried him forward through the smoke, but he slowed once again when the full scene appeared before him. 

Tanjiro, on his hands and knees, looked up at him as he appeared through the smog. Tears cut sharply through the grime and blood on his face. Behind him was the kid with the boar’s head, trembling violently, unable to look at him. Kneeling before them both was Rengoku himself. 

“Kyojuro.” Giyuu said, ignoring the look on Tanjiro’s face, the blood, the smoke. Rengoku didn’t move. His haori spilled out around him, soaked from the waist down with a halo of blood. There was a long beat of silence before Kyojuro abruptly, grotesquely slumped backwards, deadweight, hitting the dirty ground with a loud but hollow thump. 

“Mr. Rengoku…!” Tanjiro whimpered. “Please, Mr. Tomioka, help him!” 

Giyuu stared, disbelieving. It felt like he was in a dream. No, a nightmare. Any moment now he’d wake up screaming, heart pounding in his ears until it settled back to a normal pace. Any moment now he’d be back in the mansion gardens with Rengoku by his side, wisteria on the breeze, warm from the sun and the sound of Rengoku’s laughter. All he could hear now was his own heartbeat, all he could smell was the sharp copper scent of blood. His entire field of view had gone red. 

“Mr. Tomioka!” Tanjiro was shouting. Giyuu wasn’t listening. He was staring instead at his friend’s blasted-open abdomen, an ocean of red pouring out from the mangled flesh beneath his torn uniform. Something snapped inside of him, the fragile scaffolding he’d built around his heart shattering into pieces like Kyojuro’s body. Not him, not him, not him--

“Tomioka!” Tanjiro screamed. Giyuu blinked and found Tanjiro had stood and was tugging desperately on his haori. “Please!”

Giyuu looked at Tanjiro and inhaled. There he stood between his friend and oblivion. If he did nothing else for the rest of his life, he would reach into that oblivion and yank him back. Hands shaking, Giyuu finally moved. 

Quickly but gently, Giyuu took Kyojuro--Kyojuro’s body?--by the shoulders and lowered him to the ground, where he hit the blood soaked dirt with a heavy and sickening squelching sound. Long ago, when his hands were too small to hold a sword and his body too weak to swing it, Urokodaki had made sure to teach him how to force a heart to beat, how to fill another’s lungs with air. How to reach into oblivion and yank someone back. 

Back then he’d warned him it didn't often work, even when done perfectly. Back then he’d seen that firsthand, as he’d uselessly pumped the heart of a lifeless body crushed beyond repair. Giyuu remembered the blood soaking through the patterned robe and splattering onto the crushed kitsune mask beside him. 

He couldn’t save his sister. He couldn’t save Sabito and Makomo. Kyojuro now stared sightlessly up at him, his eyes half-open and splattered with blood. Giyuu knelt beside him, placed the heel of his pale hand against Kyojuro’s ruined chest, and pushed down with everything he had. 

Immediately he heard the crack of ribs snapping, felt them collapse inward like twigs beneath his hands. Giyuu sucked in a surprised and disgusted breath but continued anyway. He had to. He counted in his head the best he could but kept losing count as he watched blood flow up from Kyojuro’s chest and throat and onto his hands, soaking his uniform sleeves. Even counting took huge effort; all he could think about was his friend’s voice, his smile, the heat that came to his face whenever Kyojuro drew close to him. 

1, 2, 3, 4–Ah, Giyuu! My friend, how nice to see you again!—6, 7, 8, 9–Hah! You always know how to make me laugh. I always enjoy your company. 

Panting with effort, Giyuu found a rhythm, bending at the waist to throw his weight behind each artificial beat of Kyojuro’s heart. All those kind things Kyojuro had said to him and he’d never returned any of them. Not for lack of trying, and he knew Kyojuro understood…Each silent upward tilt of his lips, each time he drew a little closer, handed him something he was reaching for without him asking, remembered his order at their favorite Udon cart—I love you I love you I love you—but he’d never actually said it. 

It wasn’t as easy for him as it seemed to be for Kyojuro. That strangling grip around his throat seemed to never lessen, and the harder he tried to summon the words to express what he felt, the further they retreated back into his. The tighter the grip became. He swallowed.

“Come on, Kyo,” he spat through his teeth and the tightness in his throat, far beyond caring if the boys heard or noticed his use of the nickname he’d never said aloud. “Please…”

When he reached thirty, or felt like he’d gotten to thirty, Giyuu stopped and leaned down, tilting Kyojuro’s chin upward, pressing his lips to Kyojuro’s and breathing into him. Kyojuro’s chest—what was left of it—rose with the breath and fell again. The air escaped his cold lips in a loose gurgle. Another borrowed breath, another rush of blood, another long and frightening silence. Giyuu came away tasting blood and resumed pumping his chest again. 

He lost track of time. For that matter he’d lost track of space, too. The earth had fallen out beneath them. In that moment the only thing that could pull him back into orbit again was Kyojuro. He didn’t realize that the Kakushi had arrived and we’re taking over, not even when Tanjiro’s voice managed to reach him again.  

“Mr. Tomioka…?” He was calling. Giyuu ignored him and continued. His chest was beginning to heave with coming sobs; they became so intense he could barely move or breathe. Still he continued. Someone else was calling his name. Still he continued. I love you I love you I love you.

“Master Tomioka, we will take over from here.” A voice said. His shaking hands were so soaked with blood they were beginning to slide off of their position on Kyojuro’s sternum. “M-master Tomioka, please…” Someone was pulling on his arm, pulling him back and away from Kyojuro. Giyuu set his jaw and tried to continue but the hands continued pulling into finally they managed to get him off of Kyojuro, though his eyes did not move from Kyojuro’s face. 

“That’s enough, Mr. Tomioka.” Tanjiro was saying. The moment Giyuu stopped yanking against him in an attempt to get back to Kyojuro, Tanjiro released his arm and let him watch while Kakushi descended upon the scene, his vision blurred with tears he hadn’t realized had been falling from his eyes. The Kakushi swarmed him as they took over, their training clearly much fresher than Giyuu’s. 

His breath caught in his throat as it ripped in and out of his shattered chest. Giyuu felt faint, he felt his own heart stop, ears ringing as if he’d just been in an explosion. His own ribs were imploding too. The cliff edge of oblivion stretched out before him, the reality of the rest of his life without Kyojuro’s smile. It was everything he could do to keep himself upright.

Through the haze he heard one of the Kakushi speaking. 

“I have a pulse!”

Giyuu blinked. To his shock, Kyojuro’s chest was moving slowly up and down even without his intervention. Each exhale brought a small flow of blood from Kyojuro’s mouth, but he was breathing. His heart, somehow, was beating. The world resumed its spin. 

“You did it, Mr. Tomioka!” Tanjiro whispered in disbelief. He watched them load Rengoku onto a stretcher and take off toward the medical camp they were still setting up. Tanjiro pushed himself into a standing position, wavered, tried to remember how to breathe. Beside him, Tomioka remained motionless on his knees, his face even paler than usual. “Mr. Tomioka?” 

He was surprised into silence as Tomioka abruptly bent forward and vomited onto the bloody ground. Tanjiro’s hands hovered uselessly over Tomioka’s back, wanting to comfort him, too frightened to touch him, too worried he might vomit, too. Before he could decide what to do Tomioka jerked upright again and stood, shaking, blood dripping from his fingers.

Giyuu was not a praying man. It had never worked for him before. But for one moment, exhausted and faint and feeling the world tilt as it attempted to find its orbit again, Giyuu allowed himself to offer not a prayer, but a bargain. 

If you let him live, I swear, I’ll tell him everything.

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[navybrat817]

I need Bucky to blow my back out. 😮‍💨

Don't we all, nonnie?

You Asked for It

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 700 Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight breeding kink, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: We'll call this a Wet Wednesday blurb.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I’d be better if Bucky blew my back out. How are you?”

You’re certain he doesn’t hear you say that in passing to Natasha after she asks how you’re doing, but super soldier hearing and whatnot. He smirks when he repeats the words in his head. The Sergeant may be an old man, but he isn’t that out of touch. He knows enough that you need him to pound your pussy and fill you to the brim. Fuck you so hard and so good that you won’t be able to close your legs or walk by the time he’s done with you.

Dirty girl.

He takes it as a compliment that you need his cock to have a better day and he’s more than happy to take advantage of that. And why wouldn’t you want him? You both know you have a greedy cunt and find any excuse under the sun for him to be inside you, your body always wet and ready even when he doesn’t stretch you out.

Not that he’s complaining. He’s shocked he doesn’t have a permanent hard-on with you around. Your pussy is the gateway to heaven, miliking him for all he’s worth. Because isn’t it a form of worship to paint your wet and quivering walls with his seed?

So later once he has you in his bed where you belong, he spends a minute just looking at your twitching hole as he spreads your glistening folds. His cock throbs and he doesn’t waste time making you beg. Instead of splitting you open the way he wants to, he slowly and deliberately slides into you inch by inch. You welcome him home with whimpers and sighs.

He wants to fuck you until you cry how much you love him.

But he doesn’t move once his hips are flush with yours, giving you a smirk at your dazed and confused stare.

“You know,” he begins, tracing a wet finger along your cheek as you try to wiggle your hips. “If you wanted me to pound your sweet little pussy so bad, all you had to do was say so.”

You narrow your eyes and purposely clench around him, almost hard enough to make him throw his head back. “Then do it, Barnes.”

He feels all too smug when he pulls out and thrusts back in with enough force to make you jerk underneath him. “Should’ve put that pretty mouth of yours to good use first, but we have time for that later.”

For now, he gets to work.

It’s like time stands still when he pins you down and makes you take every single thrust. He can’t help but lean down to bite your bottom lip, wanting you lost in pleasure. “So fucking wet. Making a mess all over me. Fuck, you take me so well,” he praises, his gaze leaving your face only for a moment to watch your tits move.

Yeah, I'm fucking those later.

“Please,” you moan, trying to raise your hips to meet his. “Fuck me.”

“I am fucking you,” he groans, plunging himself deeper.

“Harder,” you beg.

You asked for it.

Minutes may pass. Maybe hours. But broken moans leave your lips as your pussy keeps opening up and taking Bucky in. Just like it was made to.

“Fuck, baby, I almost forgot what a slut you are for my dick,” he grunts before your eyes flash. You’re not quite cock drunk yet and he only chuckles when he thrusts harder, making your pretty eyes roll back. “Not just a slut. My slut.”

“Your slut,” you moan.

He glances down and watches how you swallow every inch of him. “Fuck yeah, you are. And you’re gonna take every fucking drop of me after you come,” he grunts. That has you moaning before he even gets a thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles just the way you like it. He knows you’re on the verge of a powerful orgasm and wants it to consume you. “Come. Don’t you fucking hold back.”

He feels your release coat his cock as you scream his name, almost triggering his own as he tells you what a good fucking girl you are. But he’s not done yet. Not by a long shot.

He’ll blow your back out before the night is over.

And if you’re lucky, he’ll put a baby in you, too.

Um. Sorry? Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[anticipatecrime]

𝙞 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙠𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 | colby brock & sam golbach x fem reader

summary: slight enemies to lovers trope, sam/colby, and you are from kansas, and make haunted content, only difference is they blew up months before you did. you and the guys have a rocky relationship, jokingly but also not jokingly hating eachother. what happens when you both plan to film at the stanley on the same day. | a/n: hey guys, uh warning for like the beginning of smut(?) also please call me out on spelling mistakes!! also don't be shy to request jake words: 12k

"hey guys, welcome back to another video! if you saw my recent tweets, you'll know that our next series is going to be based around the stanley hotel, one of the most haunted areas in the us." you introduced the video idea. "and to make it even more special, we're going to be joined by three very special guests that you may recognize."

you pan the camera towards your three best friends. "vera, milo andd finn!"

"hi guys!" vera smiles, waving to the camera, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder. her light brown hair blowing in the slight wind.

"hey whats up." milo says, putting his hand to his mouth and biting his lip, making his brother roll his eyes.

"nobody likes that." finn murmurs seriously, before chuckling. "hi fans! i've missed you guys." he makes a heart with his hands.

"cringe alerttt." milo snickers, making fun of him.

"okay, okay calm down guys, i need to explain to them what's going to happen today." you stated, setting down the camera onto a tripod, before sitting down yourself on a bench outside of target. "come sit down, i want to get a cool shot."

one by one they sit down on the bench with you, everyone squished so they could be in frame. "okay, so! i'm hoping to film the entire trip so i have a series worth of content for you guys. and i was thinking on how we should get to the stanley, like by plane or something but then i had a thought.. what if.. we did.. a roadtrip!" you announce to not just the viewers but also your friends.

"what." milo gave a disapointed look. "how long are we going to be in colorado?"

"i was thinking that we start driving there tonight, it's kinda a long drive so we'll get to colorado around 11am, and we can like chill out until we check in at stanley around 5, explore the most haunted areas, and then we can sleep for a bit and then wake up at 3am." you explain, earning a nod from the group.

"i'm thinking we only stay there overnight and then we leave in the morning around 10 or so, another 17 hours back, makes it just like two days and a half i think." you say, overexplaining the time, to make sure nobody was busy.

"what day is it today?" vera asks, looking to the two boys.

"wednesday." finn answers, giving a smile to the girl, earning a smile back.

"wait wednesday? shit i don't think i can go y/n, i have a modeling thing on sunday." milo shrugs.

"you'll be back saturday morning, though." you say, raising an eyebrow, and crossing your arms.

"i need my beauty sleep, this trip sounds exhausting, i can't come back, having a shoot with eyebags." he says, earning a scoff from finn.

"whattt." vera pouts at him. "but the ghost squad won't be the same without you! the viewers will be so upset at you."

"yeah! milo we need you to come with us, you always make for good content." you say, before giggling.

he pauses for a moment, thinking about his schedule before looking to vera. the two had a weird relationship, something along the lines of friends with benefits.

finally, he shrugs. "i guess i'll go, but i need to be back that morning, i need time to recharge." he says.

"awesome!" you smile, jumping out of your seat on the bench. you glance at finns watch. "okay so it's about 4, we need to leave around 6. so i'm thinking we get loads of snacks and some ghost type stuff here at target, get to the apartment and then we can pack like anything we need."

"fuck yeah." finn nods. "i'm down for snacks." he laughs as you jokingly pass your credit card to him.

"since i'm dragging you guys out here, the snacks and stuff is all on me so don't worry about paying."

"yoo really?" finn actually snatches your card this time, laughing mischievously.

"are drinks on you too?" vera asks, with a smug smile. "i could use some vod- i mean water." she looks into the camera directly as she corrects herself. she coughs. "water, yes water."

"i fucking love water." milo laughs, wrapping an arm around vera, making her blush.

you clear your throat, before looking to finn, and pulling him along into target. "lets go guys! we don't have much time."

the four of you grab a cart, trying to keep the camera down so an employee doesn't see and kick you out. vera suggests you getting into the cart, so you do and suddenly shes pushing you down aisles at rapid speed.

you scream at the movements. "vera! be careful!" you laugh, the boys chasing you two down.

"how will we get snacks if you two are fooling around with your shenanigans." finn comments, trying not to burst out into laughter.

"okayy, fineee." vera stops the cart, making it jolt.

"so, what snacks should we get?" you ask from inside the cart, looking at the chip selection.

"oo definitely doritos." milo reaches for them, throwing them in.

"i want ms vickies." you say, grabbing two kinds, both your favourite, and finn's.

"hmm i don't know what i want, i'm more craving licorice." she walks away into the direction of the candy aisle.

"she left us!!" you pout, encouraging finn to push the cart slowly.

as you three make it to the other aisle, you see vera with her hands full of candy. licorice, m&ms, gummy bears, popcorn and some chocolate.

"yes the m&ms!" you shout, making grabby hands towards the small package.

"i know you so well." vera snickers, chucking not one but two packages directly at you. "score!!"

"do we need any other snacks?" you wonder aloud, looking back to the guys.

"i could use a drink." milo comments, shrugging.

"to the drinks!"

everyone goes completely different in their choice of drink. you watch as finn reaches for two monster cans, vera on her tippy toes trying to grab a bottle of fresca, and milo looking at coconut milk. you scoff and roll your eyes at that.

finn notices the look and shuffles over to you, whispering behind his hand. "he's so lame."

you try not to laugh, as he's a few meters away. "i agree. i don't know what vera sees in him." you mutter back, knowing that finn has been in love with her since preschool.

you had all gone to the small school, finn meeting vera, and milo meeting you in kindergarten. because of classes you didn't really know finn until he was at vera's 6th birthday party.

and ever since you three had been the best of friends. with milo he was slightly different. it was like he was popular since the womb. he came out and immediately was the cooler sibling. it took a few more years for him to be apart of the group, only really joining because vera had a huge crush on him.

it was a weird love triangle. them being brothers and all. it was obvious milo didn't have feelings for her but he couldn't not play into it.

"i'm being serious, i can't believe she's still all over him." you say. "he treats her horribly. you really should confess." you encourage him.

"dude, i'm not ruining our 18 year long friendship just because of my dumb feelings." he sighs disappointingly.

"atleast consider it. you're perfect for her!"

"perfect for who?" both you and finn become still, eyes wide turning to the girl standing infront of them.

"perfect for selena gomez." you blurt, before whispering into her direction. "his celebrity crush." you shrug, trying to hide what was actually happening.

finn rolls his eyes, annoyed. "yeah."

"oh cool. she's hot i guess." she turns away and walks back towards milo, attempting to look over his shoulder.

"close one." you mumble.

"don't talk about this stuff around her, i can't risk her finding out." he pleads, embarrassed of the situation.

"yes, of course, sorry about that." you rub the back of your neck awkwardly before getting a drink too.

about 20 minutes later, and you're leaving target, still in the cart, packed tightly around the bags. you click the button on your key, the trunk popping out. the guys begin to pack away the bags in there, before vera takes you on one last run with the cart.

"wooooo!" you smile, feeling the cold wind hit you at your fast past. you're going so quick that you can only just make out the figures of the guys, finn with his camera out, taking a few pictures of the two of you.

after the shenanigans were over, you were driving the car back to the apartment you, vera and finn shared. you remember when vera begged you two to let milo move in as if there was room.

the apartment was bigger than an average one, but for four people, it would suck and be cramped with eachothers things.

and it wasn't like you couldn't afford a real place, because you could. your youtube channel was absolutely blowing up. you were about halfway to three million subscribers, around the same amount as your social media arch nemesis, sam and colby.

your channel and theirs have always been really close, them having no more then 10k subscribers then you at a time. it's been noticed by many fans, and earlier this year it became a competition. both yours and their fanbases have almost gone against eachother, starting a rivalry.

it was such a serious thing to their fans that they would leave hate comments on most of your videos. you tried not to let it get to you, and you made sure to only take them as jokes.

you honestly felt a bit betrayed by sam and colby as a creator. you thought they would've spoken up about the real threats, but they chose to leave it unnoticed, leave their fans spewing hate.

infact one time they even made a passive aggressive dig towards you in their haunted series a few months ago. colby said something along the lines of how they would always be better and he made a joke about sexism, that womens youtube content could never be as good as a mans. he clearly said it was a joke, but who jokes about that stuff?

and that's when you really declared war. if they wanted to be assholes, they would get treated as such. you ended up blocking him on instagram so you’d stop getting tagged in stuff with him.

you sighed, walking through the door behind everyone else, going to your room to pack a few clothing items. you turned the camera back on, setting it on the side table. "hey guys, just an update, we are now each packing our bags, and hopefully we will leave within the hour! hmm i think i'm gonna post the picture finn took in the parking lot for you guys."

you go onto your phone and post a picture on instagram. this was something you would do often to interact with fans.

you would post a picture while filming, and reply to a few comments on the video.

@y/nslittleworld

Liked by verakeys, finnsphotography, tarayummy and 310k others. y/nslittleworld: this is how we're getting to colorado, by cart view all 4,381 comments.. verakeys: when i was pushing you inside the store i was so scared of an employee 😭 finnsphotography: pretty tarayummy: you guys r so hot!! brennen: pls answer my dms | y/nslittleworld: brennen for the last time i won’t be your girlfriend

y/nsbiggestfan12: she posted!!, new lock screen check! | y/nslittleworld: you’re adorable <3 i love my fans

team_y/n776: team y/n! she's so pretty!! | team_colby_brock: no she's not 💀she looks basic view 109 comments..

you giggled at your comment to brennen. it's a running joke on both of your channels that brennen has a major crush on you.

"oh god." you put a hand to your mouth, looking at all the replies arguing about which youtube channel is better. you hated how seriously all of this has become, you never wanted this many people hating on you on the internet but it seems like it was practically inevitable.

hearing a light knock on your door, you spotted milo looking at you. "hey just to let you know we're ready and waiting."

"alright, i'm coming."

the roadtrip was long, uncomfortable and almost unbearable. you were only two hours in and you were tired. since you planned this, everyone demanded you drive, atleast until you get too tired. finn offered to take turns with you. "hey vera, can you pass me that five hour energy shot?"

she chuckled, passing it to the front.

the car you had was very large, it was like a family van. you bought it, knowing you'd need space for camera equipment, and people since you were a youtuber. the seats were down in the back, creating a bed like base. was it a little unsafe? possibly, but you were a very good driver so you were confident it'd be fine.

finn opened the bottle for you, and you took it, chugging the container in a few seconds. before making a screeching sound. "yuck."

as he put his hand up to move his hair out of his face, milo started talking. "so like, what's so scary about this place?"

"oh i have tons of stories." you chuckle, gesturing for finn to grab the camera and place it on the dashboard. "hey guys! we're about two hours into the drive, and i think it's a good time to share why the stanley is so haunted." you smile.

"me and y/n did a lot of research and took some notes." finn shows the paper he's holding. "because she's driving i'm going to do most of the explanation this time."

he places the paper infront of him. "okay so first." he looks back to his brother. "ya'know the shining? like the movie."

"uhh yeah i think so." he shrugs. "why?"

"well the shining was created by stephen king, and it's based on a dream he had while staying here." "he had crazy dreams and feelings from the hotel. there's many different spirits that reside there."

"yeah like room 217, the most haunted room in the hotel. it's haunted by a spirit named elizabeth wilson, she was the hotels head housekeeper and didn't die in the room, but got injured during a storm in 1911, and now she chooses that room to stay in." you pip in, while turning.

"there's the vortex, which as you all know." finn looks to the camera. "is those mirrors facing eachother, creating a kind of portal, or 'rapid transit system' he repeats from his notes.

"also the concert hall." he continues. "if you watched our video from last year, you'll know we did a throughout investigation in the concert hall, where a young spirit called lucy lives. she basically froze to death outside after getting kicked out by janitors in super cold weather."

"i really recommend you guys go check out our first video about the stanley, because we give tons more information about the hauntings." vera says to the camera.

"i'm thirsty." milo groans.

the group laughs at him, you grabbing the camera and turning it off. finn throws a waterbottle into the back, not looking. it ends up hitting milos face, earning a scoff. "watch where you're throwing things."

finn just rolls his eyes, trying not to laugh. "sorry brother."

you chuckle at the sibling behaviour, before sighing looking out ahead at the road. "this is so tedious." you yawn.

finn laughed, before asking if you were okay to drive. "yeah, i'm okay. you guys should try and get some sleep! i'll pull over and wake finn up when i need to switch. but for now, really get some z's."

"you don't have to tell me twice!" vera announces, sinking into her blanket.

"i won't purposely try and fall asleep but if i do, wake me up the second you need to okay?" finn said, earning a nodd from you.

as the sun set fully, the dark began to set in. it was honestly pretty nice. there were no cars on the road, and occasionally anytime they went through a town there would be plenty of lights. it felt calm, rather than scary.

you felt like you were preparing yourself for the stanley. you had been once before, about a year and a half ago with just vera and finn, and your experience was crazy. so many noises, feelings, stuff moving around.

you loved the paranormal so even though places were crazy, it was fun. you were nervous about milo coming, knowing he didn't believe in ghosts, and from previous experiences in videos. you were scared about him disrespecting whatever was in the hotel.

you just hoped he'd be respectful, because this kind of stuff hit you hard. you've had tons of paranormal experiences ever since you were a kid.

you yawned, keeping your eyes on the road.

suddenly the car was lit up, you glanced down to your phone that was sitting in the cup holder. you had an instagram notification from tara, one of your youtuber mutuals.

you wouldn't exactly consider her a close friend, but you've gone to tons of partys with her. because of tara, you had met jake who was friends with sam and colby.

you actually really liked tara and jake, they were cool and really nice. you slowed the car down, pulling onto the side of the road to look at the notification.

she had messaged you a longish message.

tarayummy: hey girl, just wanted to ask if you knew that jake and the guys are going to the stanley tomorrow? i saw your tweet about going and wanted to warn you

y/nslittleworld: oh shit what? did they say that publicly? i had no idea they'd be there

you began to panic, you were clueless about the guys coming to the stanley hotel. what if they think you copied them?

tarayummy: no they haven't told their fans yet, jake saw your tweet and told them about you being there, so i thought it was fair i did the same

y/nslittleworld: thanks for the heads up! i'm about to start driving so i'll talk to you later :)

tarayummy: okok, have a good trip

about 4 hours later, you had to quit. your eyes watering from how bad you needed to sleep. you gave finn a nudge, and pulled over.

thankfully he was happy to help, and told you to rest while he drove. you were out like a light in seconds.

you woke up much later than you thought, it being around 7 in the morning. you stretched out, eyes opening to the bright sunlight hitting the car. yawning, you turned to finn, who was slumped into an uncomfortable position, driving the car.

"hey." you smiled, rubbing your eyes. "need me to take over? i didn't mean to sleep that long." you chuckle.

"no it's okay, i've got this." he said back, taking a sip of his monster.

"okay well, don't be too stubborn, let me know when you need to switch again."

he nodded.

"where are we?" vera asks, her voice raspy from waking up. with her arms over her head, she stretched, and cracked her back.

finn yawns. "close to colorado, we're in utah right now. about an hour till we're in colo, but 6 i think until we get to our hotel."

she groans. "we're so far away." "guys i have an announcement." you say, frowning. "sam and colby.. they're filming at the stanley today too."

"sam and colby?!" vera peeks up. "okay, okay i know this is bad for you but oh my god we're going to meet sam and colby." you and finn looked to her with confused faces.

"since when were you 9 years old." you say, rolling your eyes at her fangirling. this was your borderline competition, she can't be excited about the enemy.

"for real." finn adds, continuing to drive.

hours later, you four realized you were an hour behind schedule so you just decided to check into the stanley hotel early. you had room 217 and 401 reserved, luckily.

you wondered where sam and colby were staying.

you carried two bags into the main room you wanted to stay in, which was 217. "guys, hurry up." you rushed them, waiting for them to follow you.

finn nodded, grabbing his and veras bags, her and milo following close behind. "i'm excited." finn states.

"me too actually, last time it was crazy! i'm excited to see what happens." vera smiles to him.

"this camera equipment is so heavy." slowly one of the bags starts to fall from your grip.

"i got it." milo rushes to your side, grabbing the bag. he smirks, now hip to hip with you. you smiled back awkwardly.

you weren't the biggest fan of milo for multiple reasons. the way he treated vera, and what he does behind her back. like smirk, wink and touch your shoulder unwantedly. it made you uncomfortable everytime but you brushed it off as just his cocky flirty personality.

"this is our door!" you call out, setting the bag down temporarily to unlock the door with the key. milo pushes open the door, holding it open for you.

everyone shuffles in and puts their bags down onto the floor. "okay." you sigh, relieved.

"now what do we do?" vera asked, looking around before jumping on the bed. "woo!"

"i'm thinking change, and we go check out the bar, maybe get something to drink and eat?" you offer up earning nods from the group.

"yes please." finn moans at the thought of food.

as you four make your way downstairs, you start to hear loud male voices. you pause, holding your arm out so nobody comes down. you listen, hearing jakes voice.

"sam, colby, jake and corey are at the front desk." you whisper.

"be non chalant." milo shrugs, walking infront. you all follow him down the stairs, like he was a bodyguard.

you adjust your tank top, pulling it up, and uncreasing your baggy jeans.

immediately you see the four guys, standing and talking to the camera. jake notices you first, eyes widening before waving. his wave got the attention of the rest of the group and they turned to see you four walking to the bar.

the four guys were looking at your group.

you accidentally lock eyes with colby, before his trail down, clearly checking out you. eventually you're walking out of sight and his eyes follow you. "i can't believe she's here on the same day we are." he mumbles.

sam took a step away from the group, glancing towards the bar. there you were, giggling with your friends, sipping a drink. even though your fanbases rivaled, he was a huge fan of your channel, and loved your content.

"i know, it's crazy. what are the odds?" he chuckles, sending a polite smile your way when you notice him staring. 'odd' you think to yourself.

"what if we did a video with them." he suggested.

"dude that would be sick if we teamed up." jake agreed with the other.

colby stared at them with wide eyes, wondering what the fuck they were thinking. "guys, no fucking way." he said. "sam what has gotten into you. don't you remember that she hates us? and vice versa."

"she's not even that bad, all she did was block you on instagram." he shrugged.

"what did you do brother." corey shakes his head in disappointment.

"all i did was make a dumb joke last year, and she blocked me." colby shrugged, frustrated.

"that's such a half truth." jake called him out. "you literally made a sexist joke towards her and didn't apologize, and your fans sent her death threats and you didn't do anything about it."

sam and colby looked to eachother, not even knowing about the hate messages you were receiving because of them. "shit really?"

"there's no way you didn't know. her instagram dms, comments, youtube comments are full with hate from toxic fans." jake pushed.

"i really didn't know." sam said, putting his hands up, grimancing. "i should go over there and apologize." he began to walk towards the bar before colby grabbed and pulled him back by his arm.

"dude no, that's so embarrassing." he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "besides, she's being dramatic over a dumb, obvious joke i made." colby tried to explain what he thought was right. "i didn't do a single thing to upset her, it was a joke." he defended.

"what is up with you." sam shakes his head, not recognizing his best friend. he sounded like an asshole, and he couldn't figure out why.

while in reality, colby was just embarrassed for making such an ignorant joke... an ignorant joke to someone he actually looked up to. both sam and colby had been privately watching your videos, honestly getting inspired to make their own content.

"yo, are you guys good to check in? i might go say hi to y/n." jake said, ignoring colby's eyes.

"actually can i come too? i'd like to meet her, and apologize." sam asked.

"i feel left out, i want to meet her too." corey said.

"okay, we're going to y/n, you can come if you want i guess." jake says towards colby, before they began to walk away.

"yo, y/n!" jake called out, walking in your direction. you turned, just expecting jake, shocked to see corey and sam following behind him.

"hey jake!" you smiled, hopping off the barstool to hug him. "i've missed you, it's been awhile." you sayy, sitting back down, before hesitantly looking to the other guys.

finn looked up from his phone, seeing them surround your area. he made sure to keep an eye out for you while vera and milo were drinking a few chairs down.

"it really has." he sat down on the chair next to you. "this is uh sam and corey." he gestures towards them.

"oh hi, what's up." you sit their awkwardly, doing the so called white person face out of awkwardness.

"hey, i'm corey." he holds out his hand, you give it a little shake.

"good to meet you." you smile, sensing his chill personality. you are then met with sam, him standing there awkwardly, trying to figure out a way to apologize to you.

you being socially awkward and hating the silence, speak first. "it's uh cool to finally meet you." you nod, avoiding eye contact with him, not sure on how he's feeling about the situation.

"it's awesome to meet you too, i'm a fan of your content." he smiles, making you surprised and flustered, not expecting that.

"wow really?" you giggle. "i could say the same thing about your channel." you take notice of one boy missing and glance around. he notices your wandering eyes.

"colby's uh.." sam trailed off, looking to the check in desk, before realizing he wasn't there. he felt a hand on his shoulder and jumped back, before realizing said boy was right behind him. "right here i guess." he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"we were just looking for you brother." corey says, grabbing his shoulder.

"i uh put the bags in the room, it's a pretty nice room actually." he says to his group, trying to not even look in the direction of you. you notice the behavior and spin the stool around, to talk to finn about exploring.

you hear the guys murmur, not exactly sure what they're saying until you hear a groan and a sigh.

"yeah i'm thinking we take a look around at the hotel right now while it's light out, and visit our other room." finn said, taking out a map of the hotel, since it's been awhile.

"i agree, sounds like a great idea." you nod.

"hey y/n." a voice says from behind you. you turn to see sam again. "would you be down to do a collab or something for atleast a part of both yours and our series?"

hesitantly, you pause, looking towards finn. "what do you think?" you give him a confused face, so he's aware you're not sure of the idea.

he also makes a face.

sam clears his throat. "it's totally okay if not, no pressure." he smiles.

you nod slowly. "i guess we could." you shrug, sipping more of your drink. "what do you have in mind?" out of the corner of your eye you see vera and milo make their way towards you, the latter glaring at the guys infront of you.

"what's going on here?" he asks, leaning on the bar.

"oh hey. this is sam." you introduce him, them shaking hands, milo's cleary very stiff. "he want's to do a collab with my channel."

he raises an eyebrow. "anyways, we're doing a seance later, so i thought maybe if you and your friends wanted to join it?”

you sigh. “i dont know, seances are very powerful and not to be disrespected. i would only agree if you guys were doing it properly, no jokes, no mocking.” you said seriously.

“i mean we can try our best, but when we’re scared we tend to joke a bit, im sure we could take it more seriously.”

“i.. i don’t know.”

“here well i’ll give you my number just incase you change your mind.” he smiles towards you. you nod your head, handing him your phone.

he gives it back and you slide it into your pocket. “hopefully i’ll see you later.” he looks proud of himself as he walks away to the guys. jake waves to you, before they’re out of eyesight, probably going to explore.

you blush slightly at his kindness. before finn nudges you with his elbow and raises his eyebrow.

“what was that about? why are you blushing.” he interrogates you, making you blush more.

“he’s cute.” you shrug, trying to lessen your large smile. “and he just exchanged numbers with me.”

everyone decides to finish their drinks before they go anywhere. you were pretty surprised and happy about the events of a few moments ago.

you had been trying to squash whatever was previously between you, sam and colby, so this was a good start. you were pretty flustered when vera and milo started asking about the blush on your cheeks.

sam on the other hand, when his friends, mainly jake questioned him about you, he was holding himself together, not showing any weakness. “what are you guys talking about.” he shakes his head at the claims of him liking you.

“that was so flirty of you brother.” corey points out, smirking at him.

“are you guys gonna bone.” jake jokes, making a weird voice.

“ew, dont say that.” “thats weird.” sam says, shaking his head once more.

“she is pretty hot.” colby comments, looking at her as he walks away.

“colbyyy.” corey calls out at him. “don’t be a weirdo, bro.”

sam huffed at his friends childish behaviour, but to be fair if the roles were switched he would probably tease them about it too.

if he was being honest, you were really cute, and he loved your personality. every video you’ve made, he’s watched and not just watched, enjoyed.

he’s wasn’t following you on any socials, but he always checked up on them every week or so. he was well aware of your fanbases rivalling, and he was obviously there when colby made the comment about you and he remembers in a video of yours when you said that you disliked the duo.

after hearing that and seeing you block colby, he assumed you wouldn’t want him following you either.

but after what jake said, he realized how shitty him and colby had been. he couldnt believe all the hate you were getting on twitter. when jake showed him, his mouth was wide open, shocked at how horrible their fans were being to you.

the worst hate comment he had gotten from this whole situation was a few of your fans saying you were better then him. and he was used to comments like that from the traphouses prank war.

he felt horrible, and wanted to apologize, but he felt weird doing it with everyone around him which is why he wanted to see you again, so he could say sorry in a private setting.

and he did have to admit, that he just wanted to talk and see you again too. he definitely had a crush on you, and has had one for atleast a year now.

your style, your personality it was just above and beyond what he was attracted to. one problem.. he could tell colby thought the same as him.

the boy would never admit this, but sam remembered one time a few months ago where he came over, and saw you on colby’s tv screen. he had been binging your channel on a thursday night.

it was clear he liked your videos, and content because a week after you uploaded a video, he copied the point of it and did his own verison.

sam encouraged him to apologize or talk to you but he was being too arrogant and full of himself. he didnt want to seem like he was in the wrong, even if he was. (which he knew he was)

“so you invited her to the seance?” colby asked, as they walked around outside.

“yeah, she said she’ll think about it.” sam replied.

“i hope she does, she seems cool, id like to get to know her.” corey said, genuinely liking your clothing style and hair. he thought it made you unique, and in the best way possible.

“her group is also going to explore soon so we might see them around.” sam added.

“great.” colby rolled his eyes.

“brother, if you just apologize, it’ll be fine. y/n is so forgiving. trust me, before i knew her i spilt my drink all over her outfit at a party. she was so cool about it.” jake said, trying to explain how chill you were.

“it’s not that easy.” he scoffed, frustrated at this dumb feud he caused between the two of you. but to be fair, he still thought you were too dramatic about it.

“whatever colby.” sam shrugged, before pulling out his camera and updating the viewers about the concert hall they were going to explore.

you, and the three others finished what you were doing at the bar, and headed back to your room to unpack a few items, mainly stuff to film with and use.

you had the spirit box in hand. you were really excited to use the estes method, because you hadn’t tried it before, and finding out it was invented here at the stanley was crazy.

finn grabbed the emf reader and walked with it around the room. it blinked to the first level before staying grey. “mm nothings showing up, we’ll definitely retry it later.” he says to the camera.

"the emf is one of my favourite devices, it'll either be neutral or just going off like fucking crazy." vera says, scrolling on her phone. "oh also y/n, you're trending on twitter." she says carelessly.

"what?!" you exclaim rushing over. trending on twitter was almost always a bad thing so you panicked as you pulled the phone from her.

you read the headline. "famous youtuber, y/n photographed in etes park, colorado by fan." "huh." you scroll under #y/n, and see a picture of yourself at a gas station you stopped at on the way.

"that's not creepy at all." finn murmurs.

"yeah like what the hell, the fan didn't even come say hi or ask for an actual picture." vera says, with a slightly disgusted face.

"maybe they were just nervous." you shrug. "thank god i'm not cancelled or something." you chuckle, anxiously.

"what would you even be cancelled for? being too nice?" milo gave a rhetorical question, making vera laugh.

"no really though, what would i get cancelled for." you thought aloud.

"definitely murdering someone." finn replied, before snickering. "you scare me when you're angry."

"heyy, i'm not that bad." you said, rolling your eyes.

"you threw a book at me when i didn't do the dishes!"

"it was your turn! you are supposed to do the dishes once a week! once! i do it five times a week! they were there for 2 fucking days!" you shout, jokingly frustrated.

"i forgot!" he defends, chuckling to the camera. "this is what i go through on a daily guys." he says for sympathy points to the viewers.

"should we start exploring?" you ask.

"hell yeah." vera grins, putting on a sweater.

"okay guys." finn hands the camera to you. "we are now going to the other room we reserved, room 401 and hopefully we'll hear children laughing."

it had been about thirty minutes, you holding the emf reader, slowly walking around the room and asking questions. vera was looking out the window, spotting the guys from earlier, milo was watching you with the emf, curious on how it worked, and finn was editing a video you had filmed a few days ago.

nothing had been happening, so everyone was just relaxing.

but suddenly, the emf reader went to orange, you dropped it out of fright, everyone looking at the device going off. "holy shit." you mutter.

"is there someone in this room with us?" finn asks, looking up from the laptop.

the emf went green, before boosting up to orange again.

milo's eyes widened. "woah."

"are you a child?" the question made the device turn off.

"are you a maid? or one of the-" it shot back to orange.

"this has never happened before." you say to the camera. "this has been the only time that the emf and the questions have been spot on."

it was about 30 minutes later, and you were leaving the room by yourself. everyone was a bit tired as well as bored, and decided to chill out. it was about 8 now, and you checked your phone as you were walking around the hotel.

you realized sam had messaged you a few minutes ago.

sam from the bar: "hey! just checking in. if you're free, us four are about to go into the concert hall if you and your friends want to join."

sam had been waiting for a reply, looking at his phone every few seconds, before sighing and putting it down. just as he was walking into the doors with colby, corey and jake, his phone vibrated. "guys wait!" he called out.

y/n: hey! i'm totally down :) the rest of the crew is napping in our second room rn so it would just be me, is that cool?

you didn't have to wait for a reply, him texting back immediately.

sam from the bar: yeah that's awesome, we'll wait for you outside the hall

you began your walk outside, quickly realizing you should've brought a sweater, the wind nipping at your exposed shoulders and neck. you saw them in the distance and waved.

sam took notice of you, and smiled at your gesture, before waving back. he saw you were still wearing the clothes from earlier, and realized how could you must be. in this moment he wished he would've worn a sweater he could give to you.

he saw a smirk on colbys face as you made your way over, and scoffed quietly.

"hey y/n!" you heard from sam. you quickly rushed over and you stood infront of him.

"hey sam!" you gave him a light side hug, before looking to the others. "so, are you guys ready to meet lucy?"

"no." corey fake cries.

as you begin to walk in, you trip up the stairs, colby snickering, before making a comment. "watch where you're walking princess." he rolls his eyes, stepping by you.

sam holds his hand out for you, helping you up before giving colby a face, as if to ask why he was still being a dick.

you tried to ignore him, and turned your flash on, looking around the concert hall. it was pitch black, and looked very creepy, everything neutral and dead looking colours.

colby and corey pointed out the mirror that had pictures taken in it, before a loud bang was heard. "what was that." jake turned to the area, before corey discovered a picture he took with a streak down the middle.

"that looks like a face almost." colby said.

"to me it just looks like something to do with the mirror, and the flash." you shrug, getting an annoyed face from the boy.

corey started taking more pictures, and a light turned off in the other room, getting colby's attention. everyone stood still, facing the room. "i have a horrible feeling about that room." he said.

in a few seconds everyone was running out of the building, from a picture that showed lucy peeking around a piece of furniture. sam looked at you before going back into that room with corey, trying to figure out what the shadow could have been.

you, colby and jake were sitting in the other room, jake distracted on his phone. you clearly caught colby checking you out, him watching you carefully.

"so where's your crew?" he asked, with a odd tone of voice.

"they are napping and relaxing in our room." you said, short and plain, avoiding eye contact with him.

"cool." he was mentally slapping himself. he had no idea how to start a conversation with someone, especially someone that he had offended. "are you dating that kid? the one with the dark brown hair?"

you raised an eyebrow. "that's not really your business, but no i'm not. he's my best friend. also his name's finn."

"he looks like a nerd." he points out, trying to joke, but only making you more uncomfortable. "that other guy though, looks like an asshole."

"he is. and that's milo." colby sees your face as you talk about him, making him curious. he watches as you shiver from the cold, and he sighs, taking off his sweater.

"you're so unprepared." he chucks his sweater in your direction, it hitting your eye. you wince, before scoffing.

"what the fuck." you mutter, rubbing it until the pain lessens.

"cmon princess, lighten up." he hums, finding amusement out of your annoyed face. he could tell you were getting more and more pissed off. "if you were smarter, maybe you would've worn a sweater."

"i'm not taking your dirty ass sweater." you throw it back at him, it practically slapping him.

he shrugs, seeing you shiver once more. "your loss."

as soon as corey and sam rush out of the back room, colby shuffles away from you, pretending to be on his phone.

"we need to leave." corey says, eyes watering. you all follow him outside, and look at the pictures he's been taking.

"jesus." you mutter.

sam stands right next to you, his arm touching yours. you visibly blush at the action, and take a small step away when colby starts watching you. "this is crazy." sam states, zooming into the picture.

"lucy is definitely calling you guys pussies." jake jokes, making you laugh.

corey refuses to go back in and eventually convinces the rest of the guys to go back to their hotel room. you agree, thanking them for inviting you.

as the others leave, sam stays behind a second. "you're really cool." he comments.

you gush at that, and giggle, trying to stop the red coming to your face. "thank you, you're cool too, i look forward to the seance, which i've decided to join."

sam grins. "awesome! we'll do it around 3am if thats okay with your guys."

"that's fine with them." you say, looking into his bright blue eyes. "you're a lot nicer than i thought."

"vice versa, you're so much more chill then i imagined."

"you imagined meeting me?" you say, jokingly pouting before laughing.

"i actually have, pretty big fan right here." he plays into the joke. it's silent for a few seconds, just the two of you looking at eachother.

sam tried to keep himself from looking at your body, finding it disrespectful since he just met you, but his eyes wandered slightly, the outfit you were wearing attracting him. the way it hugged your curves, it made him drool.

"you're really pretty." he huffs, slightly frustrated at how attractive you were.

you're absolutely stunned hearing that, your face clearly showing you were giddy. you knew both of you had been sharing little touches since you met, and been flirting very slightly but you didn't actually think anything would come from it.

"you are too, sam. you're pretty." you say back, making him smile.

"can i kiss your cheek?" he asks. your smile is unbearably large, it starting to hurt.

"yes, you may." right as you say that, he kisses your left cheek, his hand lightly hovering around your waist. his lips were on your face, so close to your own.

you were never one for kissing on a first date, so only just meeting this guy, talking to him a few times and letting him kiss your cheek was crazy.

you honestly wished he would've asked for a real kiss. you definitely would've said yes. his lips leave you, his breath hitting your neck. "i think-"

right as he began to talk, a loud shout came from a window on the top floor. "sam, hurry the fuck up!" colby yells, smirking. it was like he was watching for the correct moment, wanting to interrupt.

sam sighs, his head dipping. "i'm sorry, i have to go." he rubs the back of his neck anxiously.

"it's okay." you say, still smiley. "thank you for the kiss." you look back up at colby and you can see him still looking. you propped yourself up on your tippy toes and gave him a quick kiss, before walking into the hotel, him following slowly.

he didn't know why but he was obsessed with you, watching from the window. he couldn't take his eyes off of you. and when he saw you kissing his best friend, he felt irritated. (from his angle it looked like you were actually kissing sam)

he honestly felt like some kind of stalker. he sighed, from the window, shaking his head. you were making him crazy.

as you got back to your room, you saw your friends asleep. milo and vera were on either side of the bed, and finn was sleeping on a foot rest. you grimanced at that, and woke him up. "dude, that cannot be comfortable." you laugh quietly.

he groaned. "it's not. this sucks." he looks over to vera, sleeping peacefully.

"wanna go to the other room?" you ask, he nods.

both you and finn walk to the other room. you both moan once you lay on the bed. it was so uncomfortable after standing and walking around the entire time. "god this is the comfiest bed." you say, stretching your arms.

"i agree." "so how was the concert hall?"

you blush, remembering what happened. "sam kissed my cheek." you whisper, him getting up and looking at you.

"no way! really?" he smiles for you, happy that you're finally having a chance at a relationship.

"it was so.. ahhhh." you can't even finish talking, before you throw yourself into a pillow, screaming into it.

"also at 3am they want to do the seance." you said, letting him know. he nodded and continued to lay down.

you quickly both fell asleep, sleeping peacefully. however you slept a lot longer then you anticipated. when your first alarm went off, you were shocked.

you had set a 2am alarm, so you could be ready for 3.

you didn't think you were that tired to nap for a few hours. you threw the blanket off of you and quickly realized finn was sound asleep next to you. you rushed to turn off your alarm, and once you did you watched him snore for a few seconds.

glad that he was still asleep, you got up and dug through your duffle bag, looking for something else to wear. you quickly changed into black baggy jeans, and a white tee. you grabbed finns sweater and put it on as your teeth began to chatter.

you were annoyed at yourself for forgetting a sweater, something you wore almost everyday. bored of waiting for the time to pass, you decided to take a walk around the hotel again.

as you're walking down the stairs, you hear a few children laughing. you jolt to look behind you, seeing nothing there. maybe it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

continuing your stroll, you see the bar closed, a few benches scattered around second floor. about to go sit, you see colby walking in your direction. "hey princess. didn't expect to see you here." he has that smug smile still on his face.

you, not wanting to deal with his arrogance turn away from him, and go sit on the bench. he follows, sitting next to you. "what? am i disturbing your 'me time'."

"yes, actually you are." you snap at him. you hated when people purposely tried to push your buttons. "i'm not in the mood for whatever you're trying to do." you sigh.

"i'm not trying to do anything, i'm just talking." he shrugs, noticing your sweater. he remembers seeing finn wear that earlier at the bar. "are you sure you're not dating your friend." he pinchs at the hoodie.

you pull your arm back away from him. "i didn't bring a sweater and i'm freezing. i already told you we were just friends."

"so you're single?"

you pause, thinking. maybe if you said you were taken, he would leave you alone. "i didn't say that."

colby raised his eyebrow. "so you're telling me your in a relationship but kissing my best friend?"

closing your eyes, you scoff. "can you just leave me alone. i don't understand why you hate me, and like i said, i don't want to deal with your bullshit."

he stops, genuinely feeling a bit bad. "i don't hate you." he says lowly, looking around the lobby.

you turn to him. "sure." you scoff. "first you make an asshole comment towards me, basically bringing down everything i've worked for, making it seem like nothing, then you and sam let your fans attack me, now when i actually meet you, hoping to squash whatever this is, you're being an asshole to me." standing up to walk away, he pulls you back.

"i don't hate you." he reassures, holding a tight grasp onto your arm. he looks into your eyes, with such a sincere emotion on his face.

you shake your head. "then why are you such a dick?"

"because i'm an idiot. okay y/n? i'm a fucking idiot. your channel, you, are so inspiring, and i'm intimidated by you. the fact our subscribers are so close, and your fans are loyal to you, it intimidates me.

he grates his teeth together. "because i know that you're going to beat us, and that our fans are going to like you better. because you're such a genuinely cool person."

"i made a dumb joke, and didn't want to admit i was wrong..." he trails off. "so.." "so i'm sorry." he finally apologizes. your eyes are almost watering from how deep that apology was.

"and.. i think i like you." he adds, his hand moving from your arm, lower to your wrist.

your mind was running a thousand miles a second. not even a few minutes ago this guy was teasing you, and you hated him for it. now he was confessing that he was in the wrong, and likes you.

what were you going to do? there was sam, a kind, cute and gentle guy, taking his time to get to know you, and then there was colby. an edgy, incredibly attractive, deep but bold guy.

you were leaning towards sam, he has been kind to you since the beginning.

but quickly, you weren't left with a choice in the matter. colby put his hand on your back, and pulled you into him, his lips touching yours.

you were about to pull away, but something about the scenario made you stay. kissing him back, you couldn't help but be attracted to him. he was bold, and dominant. it was obvious from the way he was kissing you, completely overpowering your mouth.

eventually you get ahold of yourself, and push him back, hands staying on his chest. "colby.."

"shit i'm sorry y/n." he pulls away, turning his back to you. "fuck." he mutters. "i'm sorry, i don't know what came over me." suddenly the tension in the air pauses, as his phone rings. he reads the contact.

"sam." he mumbles, before answering.

you sit there, listening, feeling guilty. you had no commitment towards the other boy, but god did you feel bad, like you had cheated on a partner.

"hey colby, where are you?" his voice comes through the phone.

"i'm just in the lobby."

"why are you in the lobby?" he asks, confused.

"i was just taking a walk since i woke up early. i've been reading a magazine down here." he looks to you as he lies to sam.

"oh, okay. well it's about to be three, so i'm gonna message y/n and invite them over to do the seance." you panic, looking to colby before running upstairs, to hurry and get to your room. he frowned, watching you leave.

you got to your room, opening and closing the door quickly. finn sat awake on the bed. "where have you been?" he saw the panic in your eyes. "y/n are you okay?" he gets over to you and looks at your face.

"colby kissed me.. and i kissed him back." your breath got shallow, and it felt hard to breathe. your chest was going up and down frantically.

finn knew you had anxiety, and he had dealt with attacks like this before. he ushered you onto the bed, and held your hand. "hey y/n it's okay." he rubbed your back gently.

as you breathing got back to normal you gave finn a large hug. "what do i do."

"what you want." he answers. "you owe nothing to either of them so, plus why are you trying to make up your mind right now? you just met them, silly." he continues to rub your back.

"okay." you breath, before a knock at the door makes you jolt. you check your phone seeing two messages from sam.

sam from the bar: hey, we're going to set up the seance soon sam from the bar: i'm gonna come to your room if that's okay

finn decided to answer the door for you, only having it slightly open. he saw sam standing there awkwardly. "hey man." he greeted him. "we're just getting ready."

sam nods. "alright, i'll wait here for you guys."

finn shut the door, asking if you were okay, you nodded. he noticed his sweater was on you, before rolling his eyes. he got dressed, and called vera.

she said she would meet at sam's room in the next 15 minutes.

you said hi to sam as you opened the door, and he started to talk to you about what was going to happen during the seance. finn was right behind you, listening to his explanation.

you saw vera and milo standing outside their door, vera in her pajamas, while milo was wearing a tank top and cargo shorts.

they waved at you and finn, vera giving you a hug. "i'm so ready for this." she says, excitedly.

"i know right." finn adds, earning a smile from her. milo just shrugs, still tired.

you walk into their room, immediately seeing colby sitting on the bed looking at his phone. right as he sees you he puts it away and looks at you to see what you're thinking.

you take a deep breath and start chatting to corey and jake about how they were feeling towards the seance. you glanced towards colby, seeing him whisper to sam before he pulled him out of the room.

you tried to stay calm about it, hoping the situation was unrelated to you.

colby stood a few feet away from sam, taking a deep breath. "what's up?" he asked, seeing the other looking nervous.

"i have something to tell you.."

as they were chatting, you continued to talk about the seance, and you asked corey about the safety precautions they were taking. which were none other than being saged.

"i swear to god if a spirit follows me because you guys are being stupid." you shake your head at them.

everyone assembles on the floor, sitting in a circle. finn sits on one side of vera, while milo sits on the other. you grimace at finn, him shrugging, accepting it.

sam and colby re-enter the hotel room, both looking smug. you let out a sigh of relief, assuming since they were both in a good mood, that they didn't talk about what had happened.

sam takes a seat on your left, while colby, your right. you look to him, seeing a smirk across his lips. you couldn't help but stare, thinking he looked so attractive right then, a bead of sweat falling down his forehead.

sam had his normal gentle smile on his face. "alright, are you guys ready?" he asked, looking to everyone around the circle, before leaning to spill the salt in a circle between the group.

you did honor of lighting a few candles, flicking the lighter. corey began to get really freaked out hearing little noises, feeling things, and noticing the candies moving.

"i have a really bad feeling." he was being really defensive, about doing the seance, refusing because he was thinking about what the physic said.

because of that, he decided to sit out, leaning on the window seat. you all began to hold hands.

sam reached his hand out to you, you taking it. it was soft but he was definitely nervous, the light layer of sweat giving him away. you then gave your other hand to colby, he took it quickly.

his hand was freezing, and more calloused.

you flinched at a sudden noise coming from the closet. corey stood up in awe, shouting. "what was that." "in the closet!" he stood up pointing. "dude! can we stop?"

"i think whenever we hear things it means we should keep going." jake comments, shuffling closer.

"exactly, what's the point of the video if we stop the most important part?" you say, looking into your camera placed next to you.

"yeah we're literally saying lets do this, then-." sam is quickly cut off by corey.

"i hate this crap." he goes to sit on the bed, and watches. sams hand rejoins yours, and everyone closes their eyes for a few seconds, preparing themselves.

sam says a few things, talking to the spirits, telling them they can't harm any of us, while noises in the room pick up. weird knocks from the closet and bangs on the roof.

he encouraged corey to open the door, before he sat back down again.

colby sighed, trying to get him to join the seance, his hand up to gesture with.

he placed it back down, but on your upper thigh, before giving it a squeeze. you lightly gasped at that, everyone too busy to notice. you shot him a glare, only making grip harder.

shaking your head, you noticed corey sitting next to him now. you took the hint to grab the boys hands again.

sam kept speaking, leading the seance, asking about their experiences so far in the night, and acknowledging their room was haunted by a cowboy.

colby spoke up. "you moved the lolipops, we heard you earlier while we were relaxing, it's not time to play games anymore, use our energy, show us you're here."

a candle's light blinked, spooking the boys, followed by more noises coming from the closet. you shivered, sensing something around you.

corey got scared, standing up, followed by colby. "i'm out." he said, hands up.

you gave him a look. "literally why." you rolled your eyes, earning an annoyed face from him.

jake agreed with you, wondering why they would quit after hearing what they wanted.

sam sat his hand on your lower thigh before moving it to your back, reassuring you in this situation. he knew you weren't scared, you were fearless, but he felt he should comfort you regardless.

eventually everyone sat back down again, vera this time quitting, going on her phone in the corner. finn following short after, taking this as a chance to talk to her one on one since they got here.

you close your eyes as noises began to happen again, and right as it's getting good, you get pulled back by sam, grabbing your arm. everyone but jake is rushing to the corners of the room, away from the closet.

corey rushed out of the room, leaving everyone behind. you ripped away from sams grasp, not wanting to follow. he sighed, before telling you he'd be back.

you walked to finn and vera, milo behind you. "this is crazy." he comments, looking out the window to see the guys filming.

"i understand being scared but genuinely what's the point of committing to a seance then disrespecting the spirits willing to talk?" you say, sighing, leaning on vera.

"i'm tired." you yawn, realizing the lack of sleep you've been getting. "to be honest i might go back to our main room."

vera, for once during the trip agrees with you, asking if she can come along. you notice how she avoids milo, even as he's asking her to come to the other room.

finn notices as well. he waits back a few minutes as both of you leave, wanting to talk to his brother.

you glance at vera. she looked upset. "you okay vee?" when she looks up at you, it's obvious she had been crying. "oh my god, are you okay." you grab her face gently.

"no." she begins to sob, pulling you in for a hug. "i'm so stupid y/n.. so stupid to think he would want me for something other than sex."

you comfort her on your way to the room, asking her what happened. "he's been talking to a girl he met in the lobby all day." she pouts. "he told me that he might go have sex with her.. not even 10 minutes ago." you hug her tightly.

"vera, it's okay. he's just a douchebag to not realize what was right infront of him."

"nobody is gonna love me the way i want to be loved." she pours out. you think for a minute, finn..

"vera.. i believe in soulmates okay? and i know you have one for a fact. don't get too upset over milo. we tried to warn you about his behavior, i'm sorry."

"it's okay. i was too blinded by his handsome face." she sighs, wiping her eyes. you feel a vibration in your pocket, pulling out your phone.

you see both a message from colby, and sam. you put it away, focusing on vera. "you'll get over him girl, look at you! you're so gorgeous, and funny, there's someone that will treat you like a princess."

you hear a knock at the door. "hey, it's uh finn." you look to vera, and she nods.

opening the door, you see finn with a already turning black eye. his left eye looked like something out of an action movie. "holy shit!" you shout, before covering your mouth, aware of the noise complaint you've already gotten.

"holy fuck." you whisper. "what happened?"

he shakes his head. "did something i should've done awhile ago. i punched milo." he says proudly, vera poking her head up. she rushes to him, wiping the slight blood away from his face. "andd.. he punched me back."

"jesus." vera exhales. "now why'd you have to go and do that?" finn looks to you, and gestures to your phone. you check the notifications from sam and colby, asking where you had gone.

"ohh." you said, getting the hint to leave. you smirk at him, pulling out a finger gun or two before leaving.

right as you step into the hall, there are the boys. sam notices you immediately, asking what happened. "just a little tussle between brothers over a girl, nothing much." you say. "how's corey? still being a puss?" colby snickers.

"yeah, but we atleast got him back into the room, so he's chilling out now."

you three stand in awkward silence, taking notice of how they look at you. you clear your throat before speaking. "i'm really tired." a yawn slips its way out of your mouth.

"us too. corey's already sleeping, snoring like a madman." sam says, making you giggle.

"it's so loud." colby rolls his eyes.

"i get that, finn snores sometimes. i can usually hear it from the other room in our apartment, boy does it piss me off." you relate to them, before they walk you to your room.

you open the door, looking in to see if milo was around. your eyes widen, seeing his luggage gone. "milo must've called a cab." you say, turning to them.

they both look at you with smug looks, like they had been for most of the night. "if you guys want, you can sleep in here to avoid the snoring." you offer. "but i'm going to fucking bed."

you walk into the bathroom, changing into some pajamas. by pajamas, you mean almost no clothing at all because you get too dang hot.

as you're freshening up you hear a few whispers. "we don't even know if she'd be into that." sam said lowly.

you yawn loudly, coming out of the bathroom.

the way their eyes watched your body.. it drove you crazy. you quickly took notice of their lack of clothes, while in your bed. very bold of them to think you'd let them sleep with you. it was a queen bed but is that really enough for three strangers.

"you guys are surely making yourselves comfortable." you point out, seeing the only space for you was in the middle of them.

sam rubs the back of his neck, apologizing anxiously. "sorry, we can sleep on the couch or something." colby rolls his eyes at his friends behaviour.

"it's okay, as long as you too don't make me sweaty i'll be fine." they look to eachother at that.

jumping into the bed, you get under the covers between them. because you were nervous about the situation, you laid stomach down, face into your pillow.

you would never get tired of this amazing bed, god was it comfortable. and having two attractive, shirtless guys on either side of you made it even better.

you felt the bed dip as they came closer, colby touching you first, his finger trailing along your side. "i like this outfit." he mumbles close to your ear, making you melt.

the feeling of his hand caressing you was something out of a movie or book. it started from your arm, down to your waistline, his finger rubbing light circles between your waist and shorts.

"it's pretty." sam comments. you giggled, clearly seeing how different both of them are. to you, it seemed like colby was teasing you and trying to turn you on, while sam was making you feel like the most important girl in the world. and woah the combination of it made you flustered.

"thanks." you say into the pillow, making colby chuckle. his hand slowly going to your ass, you breathed shakily as it happened, but let him.

and in seconds, he was taking a handful and squishing it, massaging it, whatever you want to call it. he was obsessed with your ass. you propped yourself up slightly, turning onto your back just to frustrate him.

you watched his eyes flicker as he couldn't touch that part of you anymore. your lips were slightly stuck out, pouty almost at the heat you were feeling. "fuck y/n, you're so hot." he blurted out, not regretting it.

you looked to sam, trying to tell his reaction with how dark it was. you couldn't decipher what was happening, and if both of them were coming onto you. it seemed like they both talked about it before hand, and now just needed your permission.

you locked eyes with colby, his hand coming to your neck, and lighting hovering over it.

gulping, you lean back a bit, hesitant. he notices, and goes back to touching your side. "he's right. y/n you're the most gorgeous girl on this planet."

colby didn't like sharing your attention, pulling your face to look at him gently. his eyes flickered to your lips, and you nodded.

his hand slid behind your head, holding you in place as his tongue explored your lips. you kissed back, feeling how passionate he was. his body moving in a rhythm. as he pulled away slowly, he looked at you hungrily.

sam took this as an opportunity. "can i kiss your neck, y/n?" he asked, you nodding frantically. the way you felt right now, it was almost unbearable.

he started kissing your neck area, sucking and biting at your skin. you hoped he didn't leave any marks.. but secretly you craved it, thinking about the way you would show off their lovebites.

you felt colby's mouth on you now too, licking down your stomach till your shorts. he lightly tugged at them, making you move to where he could pull them straight off.

he lightly trailed his hand around your thigh, getting closer and closer to where you wanted him. he moved, getting inbetween your legs, and licking up your thigh.

you let out a raspy moan at the combination of sam's mouth on your neck, and colby's tongue getting closer. once he heard you moan, he came back up to kiss you again.

"you sound pretty needy, princess." he comments, both of them taking back their touches, making you open your eyes.

you look to both of them, colby clearly confident in his teasing. "fuck i want to kill you." you groan, shaking your head as he chuckles.

[sincerestlove]

Mother Nature - R.G.

thank you so much for the request Anon! i hope i did the idea justice!

Request: hii! my sincere welcome to tumblr, hope u find it a great community here 🫶 u said u were taking requests, i really liked ur writing so what about regina george and reader are on their periods but g gets extra mean and r gets super sensitive and emotional?

Pairing: Regina George x Reader

Warnings: None; just Regina being moody and mean

Your P.O.V.

The second you woke up, you knew it was shark week.

You could feel the dull, painful ache in your lower stomach and the tension in your lower back. Your boobs were sore and to top it all off, you could feel a migraine working its way to the front of your head.

Yeah, today was going to be hell.

Sluggishly dragging yourself out of bed, you somehow managed to get ready for school, gathering all of your things into your backpack. You were about to text your girlfriend, Regina, who picked you up for school every morning, when you heard her obnoxious car horn outside your window. You figured she'd stop after her usual 3, but no.

She kept honking.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way downstairs and out the door. The second you laid your eyes on the blonde, you could tell she was in a bad mood. She looked stunning as usual though, clad in a pretty multicolored pink top, pink high-waisted jeans and her signature docs. It was Wednesday, after all.

"You want to stop staring and get in the car?" Regina all but snapped at you, bright blue eyes icy cold as they glared at you. You didn't respond but did as she asked, settling into the passengers seat. You leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek, but she leaned away, brushing you off.

Okay, ouch.

"Don't, Y/N. I did my makeup perfectly, today. You'd just mess it up."

You felt the harsh pang of sadness and hurt settle deep in your chest, turning away from her to stare out the window. The rest of the car ride to school was silent, thankfully. When you arrived and Regina parked the car in her usual spot, you rushed out, not stopping to hear anything more from her. She didn't say anything, anyway.

~~~

The rest of the day dragged on uneventfully, the only notable event being that your migraine had gotten substantially worse. By lunch time, your vision was blurry and you could barely keep your eyes open. Regina hadn't texted you all day either, which only made your mood worse than it already was. You were used to secretly texting in class, but she hadn't reached out at all. Settling at the Plastic's lunch table, you were the first one there, and decided to lay your head down, offering you some minimal but much needed relief.

"What are you doing? You look ridiculous, sit up." You looked up to see Regina towered over you, arms crossed, an annoyed look on her face. "God, you look awful. What, did you get hit by a bus?" She all but laughed at you, a sneer resting on her pretty lips.

You didn't know what her problem was, but ever since this morning, she had been mean to you. One thing about Regina that you knew for a fact, was that she was always nice to you. Ever since you met, she had been nothing but sweet. She had a soft spot for you. But today, something changed. You had enough of her bitchiness for one day.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, a few of them falling down your cheeks. When Regina saw them, her expression changed, eyes softening, her hands reaching out to you. You swatted them away, standing up from the lunch table. "You know what? Fuck this. I'm going home." Without another word, you grabbed your backpack and made your way to the front doors of the school. This time, you heard Regina call out for you, but you didn't turn around.

You made it halfway down the walkway when you began seeing spots in your vision and fell to the ground. You groaned in pain, hands coming up to hold your throbbing head. Regina called out for you again, a moment later feeling her arms wrap around you. "Y/N, hey, what happened?!" That was the last thing you heard before everything faded to black.

~~~

When you opened your eyes again, you were laid in the nurse's office, headache still pounding against your temples. "Y/N?" Warm hands cupped your face, turning your head to meet a familiar pair of blue eyes filled with worry.

You smiled softly taking hold of her hand into yours. "Hi." She sighed with relief, leaning down to take your lips into a gentle kiss. She brought you into a tight hug, nosing herself deeper into your neck.

"God, I was so worried. I didn't know what happened to you, I just saw you fall." She rushed out, voice breaking at the end. You shook your head, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm fine, Gina. I'm just on my period. I think it's because I haven't eaten or drank anything all day and on top of my emotions, it caught up to me."

She lifted her head, meeting your gaze. "Y/N, I'm so sorry for being a bitch to you. I woke up and started my period today, too, which just ruined my whole mood." She sighed, brushing her thumbs over my cheeks. "But that doesn't excuse how I treated you and how I acted. I'm so sorry for hurting you and making you cry. I'm so sorry."

You saw tears bubbling up in Regina's eyes, making your heart ache. You knew she wouldn't and couldn't be mean to you without something going on. "It's okay, Gina. I know you didn't mean it, I was just hurt and confused. I didn't know if you hated me, or what."

"Of course not. I could never ever hate you. I'm sorry, baby." Regina kissed you then, running her hands up and down your shoulders soothingly. "I promise I will make it up to you. For now, c'mon, let's get you some painkillers, food and water."

You nodded gratefully, taking the hand she offered you. Leading you out of the nurses office, she guided you to the cafeteria and sat you down at the table. She kissed you once more, before walking off to the lunch line.

Gretchen, Karen and Cady were all staring at you like you were an alien.

"What, is there something on my face?" You reached up, wiping a hand on your eyebrows and cheeks.

The three girls smiled at each other knowingly. "Yeah, it's called Regina George's complete love and adoration."

You rolled your eyes at them, falling into familiar banter and gossip about the happenings of the school. Regina returned a few minutes later, armed with a full tray, a bottle of water and an Advil. You smiled at her warmly, waiting until she sat down beside you to kiss her. "Thank you, Gina." You mumbled against her lips, feeling her smile.

"You're welcome, baby."

i hope you enjoyed!

please leave requests if you have any ideas! :)

[vivwritesfics]

The Mug Situation

Bob Floyd and his wife are real fuckin cute

It had been Bob's wife's idea to invite the Dagger Squad for dinner. She loved Natasha almost as much as she loved her husband, thought Mickey was simply the best, and couldn't get enough of the rest of the squad.

Bob had been all shy and blushy when he asked them for dinner a week ago. They'd all tried his leftovers when he brought them for lunch, so they all jumped at the chance.

The next week was spent with Bob's lovely wife stressed out of her mind. Every day when she came back from work, she was a little late. She always came home with something; drinks (alcoholic and not), and ingredients for the dinner(s) she was going to make.

On the Wednesday, she was cleaning, on her hands and knees as she, quite literally, scrubbed the house. If Bob had known that this was how she was going to act, he would have recommended the group all go to dinner.

He pulled her up from the floor and kissed her softly, his hands cradling her face. "Relax," he said as he looked down at her, his gorgeous blue eyes staring into her own. "Breathe for me, bun."

She did just that, sucked in a deep breath as Bob continued to hold her. He watched her, made sure she was breathing before he held her cheeks and tipped her up to face him. "How're you feeling?" His thumb moved over her cheeks, fingertips comforting against her skin.

"Better," she said, leaning into his touch.

Bob looked at the kitchen around him. "Bunny, the kitchen looks great!" He said, voice chipper. "Think you can come and watch a movie with me now?"

Immediately, she shook her head. "Bobby, no. I've got more cleaning too do."

But Bob just shook his head at her. "I'll help you tomorrow," he whispered. "Come and relax with me."

She couldn't say no to Bob. He helped her to put away her cleaning supplies, took her hand and led her over to the sofa. As soon as Bob sat down, he pulled her on top of him and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

Bob made sure he kept his wife calm as they prepared to have the squad over. He helped her to clean, helped her to set up the kitchen table ready for their guests. The night before the squad were set to come over, Bob helped her to prepare the ingredients, ready to cook the next day.

And then the next day, seeing her in her green dress as she began cooking, Bob realised just how in love he was. There she was, preparing several different meals for his friends, catering to all different diets. He couldn't stop himself from wrapping her arms around her, pulling her back flush against his chest. He laughed when she pushed him away to continue cooking.

But then the squad arrived.

The Floyd's greeted them, welcomed them into their home. Bob took their coats while she got them something to drink (almost all of them accepting a beer from them. She took them through to the living room before disappearing into the kitchen to grab beers.

Things were easy while the squad were drinking beers. But then Reuben and Nat were asking for water. It was Bob that ran off to get the waters. He walked into his kitchen, pulled open the cupboards and searched for something to drink out of.

Oh, that was right. The Floyd's only had mugs. They didn't have drinking glasses, just a cute little collection of mugs. They'd had drinking glasses, but they'd broken them over the years, instead replacing them with whatever silly and funny mug they could find.

Bob filled two of their mugs with water and headed back to his squad. He passed Natasha the mug that said Pilot - Noun: someone who fucks about in planes for a living, and Reuben got the Man I Love Frogs mug.

"Uhm, Bobby," his wife said as she looked at the mugs he was passing to his friends.

He turned and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Oh, turns out we haven't got any glasses," he said, more to her than anybody else. He leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

"Shit," she muttered, suddenly embarrassed.

Bob returned to the kitchen to get everybody else some water. He gave the chicken mug (set up to look like it would have chickens and their breed names printed on the ceramic, but, really, it was random names like Larry and Steve beneath each chicken) to Bradley, Javy got the 'You're my Lobster' mug, Mickey got the Tea-Rex mug, and Jake got the 'I Don't Like Sand' mug.

Bob sat on the armchair with his wife. He sat on the arm of the chair and put their mugs in front of them. His was the 'Star Paws' mug, with his favourite characters as cats.

And, for his wife, his Bunny, was the mug he wouldn't give to anybody else. It was a 3D bunny, with one ear flopping over to form the ear. He kissed his head and listened to Jake's story.

[wesstars]

heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear. 

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing. 

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park. 

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss. 

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron. 

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you. 

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips. 

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow. 

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind. 

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet. 

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.” 

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side. 

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver. 

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping. 

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver. 

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping. 

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday. 

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips. 

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you. 

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

--

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you. 

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[jen-with-a-pen]

Two's Company

pairings: Older!Coworker!Logan x Younger!Coworker!Reader

warnings: obligatory MDNI, written on my phone, everyone's an adult and 21+, no smut, open ended, use your imagination, secret relationship/crush vibes, alcohol (wine), sexual tension, again use your imagination

credit: images from Pinterest | divider by @firefly-graphics

a/n: wrote this while thinking about my own work DILF crush instead of finishing the three other WIPs I have. Thank the writer's block. Don't know word count. I need put down. Enjoy💕

Just thinking about him makes your heart race. The butterflies start kicking up a storm in your stomach with their beating wings, twisting and tying you in knots that feel impossible to pick apart.

The mere mention– the mere thought– of his name is enough to send you spiraling, chest thrumming with palpitations. He's not even in the goddamn room with you and you're already sweating. Hands clammy, knees weak, face filling with a red-hot heat that you can't fan away.

You bite back a grin thinking of the way his lips spread into a smile when you make him laugh, the crooked tilt of a knowing smirk when you impress him with something he didn't think you had up your sleeve.

It's been years, but that one song you had on repeat as a teen plays like a broken record in the back of your mind; the lyrics, reminiscent of how the gray in his hair shines like silver, the blue in the pills he probably takes, the gray clouds of smoke from his cigars.

You didn't understand then, but it's crystal fucking clear now.

And when you think you're over it– over him– you're at home, alone on the couch, nursing on a glass of wine while watching the trashiest of all TV shows a streaming service can offer, when an image of his face pops into your head. Unprompted. Unasked for. Like some crude joke.

But you... you don't mind. Not entirely, if you're honest.

You saw the way he looked at you on Tuesday as you walked out of the meeting, his eyes burning into your swaying hips underneath that tight pencil skirt. Or how, on Thursday, when you took your lunch break, he took the time to stop and compliment you on the sweets you brought in the entire time it took for you to reheat Wednesday night's leftovers. Even followed you back to your office asking what makes you– under the more appropriate guise of your baking– so, so sweet?

A stolen glance, a brush of fingers, subtle praise and the million-watt smile of his makes way to the forefront of your mind. The faded tanline of a wedding band on his ring finger sits on the sidelines, a sore but needed reminder, nonetheless. Teeth to your lip, eyes scrunching shut while your eardrums echo with the phantom sound of his voice. The honeyed timbre. His inflections and musings. What was it he said to you a couple of weeks ago after the project meeting? In that sinfully low octave meant for you and you alone?

"If you're ever lonely, I'm just a phonecall away, sweetheart."

The guilt and shame can take a backseat. You'll deal with them some other time.

You set down the wine glass– not even half-empty– and pick up the phone.

thanks for the patience while I get around to finish my other WIPs 💕 reblogs and comments are always welcome

[totothewolff]

The Lonely Hearts Party

Toto x reader fem!merc!employee, boss|Toto, Valentine's Day | Fluff, romance, and comedy.

Summary: For weeks now, you have been receiving the most gorgeous flowers every Wednesday morning at your desk at the Brackley Headquarters, as a mysterious admirer seems so in love with you. The entire factory, your besties at work, and you all wonder who he is. Could it be the one you truly wish for? Author's note: Happy Valentine's Day to all of you! Send you lots of love. Masterlist: Here

The most beautiful flowers have been arriving at your desk every Wednesday morning for almost a month now. Every week, as you reach your office in the early hours, they are already in place to welcome you. 

You love smelling them; they are always fresh and sweet-scented, and you love to look at them even more.

You feel a rush of excitement to read the handwritten note that always comes attached, filled with a different poem paragraph each time, something along the lines of "She walks in beauty, like the night, of cloudless climes and starry skies; and all that's best of dark and bright."

Every girl in your department finds it so romantic, the mysterious admirer, but you and your besties at work, Rose and Oliver, who work in the same station that you, joke about finding it a bit creepy. 

"The Creepy Flower Guy" is a nickname you came up with to refer to him as an inside joke, being the three of you true crime enthusiasts.

—Maybe it's one of those garden gnomes HR placed outside —Oliver jokes as he finishes eating his scrambled eggs after you told them about the new Lilacs you received that morning at the breakfast quick break. —Perhaps he fell in love with you by watching you walk past —he jokes.

The hilarious idea of a tiny plastic guy sneaking into the headquarters, wearing his little red hat and fast feet to get incognito to your office, and on his tiptoes, placing the flowers on your desk makes you giggle.

You have to give it to HR this time; those gnomes were a great addition to the garden's pond; every time you sit on the benches near it, you enjoy the new scene the mechanics or engineers put together every few days, having fun moving the gnomes around or placing them in the funniest scenes, even someone during winter knitted them Christmas sweaters.

—Or maybe one day we'll find you dead on the floor, poisoned in your desk after inhaling azaleas for too long —Rose adds with the most casual tone as she bites her sandwich.

—Or you go missing! Kidnapped at the parking lot by "The Creep" —Oliver adds. 

—GUYS! —Ava turns around after overhearing the conversation; she is sitting at the same long table in the cafeteria, not getting your usual dark humor, a bit concerned, and creeped out. —You three need to cool it down with those goddamn crime podcasts!

—NEVER! —all of you answer at the same time.

—You freaks!

As you all finish breakfast, in a rush because the "off-season" is always the busiest time at the factory, you ask out loud. —Who do you think it is? 

—It's evident! It's... —Grace from the control room team starts saying.

—Lewis Hamilton! —and she finishes along with the other five people on the table now. 

Oh, the classic joke.

The entire table burst into laughter. It's a common joke to do about Lewis since almost every family member or friend thinks that working in the Mercedes racing team instantly makes you Lewis's best friend and that you always hang out with the guy, which couldn't be further away from reality. 

Most of you only see him in corporate gatherings or pass by from building to building, usually on his way to the simulator or in the hallways on a lucky day. 

He is always sweet and polite with the team and staff but quite distant; he still is Lewis fucking Hamilton. Unless you are part of his immediate team or Toto's, you get that privilege reserved for the key players only. 

Even so, almost everyone has a Lewis or Bottas story, and ALL of you have Niki's anecdotes cause that man is bonkers and a LEGEND. 

Most of them go hilarious as all of you try to act human around them, like the one Oliver has where he bumped into Lewis one day as Oliver was getting out of the bathroom and Lewis was on his way in, offering him a completely wet hand to introduce himself, which Hamilton noticed and sweetly and quickly patted Oliver on the shoulder with a "nice meeting you, man" and quickly got in.

—REAL theories only, guys! —you address the table. —Is my life a joke to you all? —you mess around, getting on your feet and closing the lid of your topper. —Please don't answer that.

-

Another week goes by, and a new stunning bouquet arrives. 

—Oh, how exquisite! That man is so into you. Those blue mophead hydrangeas sure are expensive! —the receptionist points out to you because you are a total flower ignorant who only goes: "Oh, pretty, colorful, smell cute" without giving it much thought. 

Most of the time, you have no idea what you are looking at, but you have fun googling it and trying to decipher; in your defense, no one has pampered you like this before. 

You are brand new at the getting flowers game.

-

The following week, a couple of bets start happening at the building as the word spreads, and many wonder who the mysterious guy is. 

Some think it's not a guy but a girl, as one day after a meeting, as you all are leaving, one of the engineers approaches you and makes the clever remark that the attention to detail about the type of flowers, the color palettes, and the scented notes is too much for a simple guy. —Either he is getting advised, or it's not a guy! Maybe you could obtain a reference from the company that delivers it.

This entire thing feels surreal and truly takes you by surprise since you have always considered yourself the most average girl, especially in looks and more so in the sea of beautiful blondes working at Mercedes.

Which, for some weird reason, reminded you of when you dropped your resume after one of your buddies from college - who still works there at the machine shop - gave you the heads up there was a job opening that suited you perfectly; he even had to insist you a couple of times, because you were almost sure they wouldn't give you a callback. 

To your eyes, Mercedes was one of those companies that cared about looks or looked for a specific ethnic type; it turns out you judged too soon; they care about skills, productivity, and professionalism, too, and it ended up being a bit more diverse than you expected the place to be.

It still has many areas for improvement, but it's become your favorite job ever.

-

By the end of the day, you wait for Rose to come out of her meeting to leave together, standing in the perfectly lit hallway leaning on the impeccable white wall; it's "Cheap Thursday" at your favorite local pub, and you two desperately need fuel to finish the heavy week, so nachos and a couple of pints sound like heaven.

After what feels like an eternity, a group of people comes out of the double doors by the end of the corridor facing you, and you catch a glimpse of a very hurried-up Toto getting out, too, looking handsome and elegant as ever.

You feel his dark eyes looking you up for the briefest moment, making you shiver and blush like a teenager in front of her crush.

Thank god he doesn't stop his pace and gets out of your view within seconds but leaves you distracted enough not to notice Rose approaching you till she is by your side, looking almost pale as a ghost, whispering in your ear. 

—I swear it's Toto's handwriting! I just saw him writing on the board for over an hour, and his calligraphy looks exactly like the one of "Creepy Flower Guy"!

—Come on?! Toto? Shut up! —a crackle comes out of your mouth, thinking it's the most ridiculous idea. —The billionaire smocking-hot boss falls in love with the average employee; what do you think this is? An 80s telenovela? Fuck off...

—Well, his handwriting is the same cursive style, and the "r" and "t" are almost identical —Rose starts to overexplain, trying to justify herself, looking timid and embarrassed now, and you instantly feel awful at your reaction.

—I'm so sorry, Rose, I overreacted; I tend to be too blunt! —you quickly wrap her into a hug.

—It's just that I have been seeing that calligraphy for a while now, and I found it freaky similar.

—Now, how can we make sure, Rose? Any ideas?

She shakes her head. —I'm not friends with his assistants or anyone on Toto's team.

—No one is friends with his assistants. I wouldn't be surprised if they turn out to be ex-MI5 agents or worked for the KGB —Rose starts to laugh hard, agreeing. —I think getting to the Prime Minister is easier than reaching Toto under their hands!

—You are screwed then. 

—Let's rule Toto out for the moment —you add.

—Yeah.

-

That night at your flat, a crazy thought comes to your mind as you brush your teeth; the wackiest thoughts tend to happen to you when you brush your teeth; you need to make yourself with a piece of paper handwritten by Toto to compare it with one of your notes.

You know Toto places sticky notes on the far wall inside his office; you have noticed those on your many and regular trips to the CFO's office as your boss always sends you to deliver the reports in person by the end of every week, always passing in front of Toto's office on you way there, which most of the time it's empty since he spends the year traveling, but you try to do your best when he is in, slowing your steps a little bit more to enjoy the view and fixing your appearance a little bit too before crossing in front of him. 

Still, his assistants are always at their front desk near there, making it impossible to sneak in. 

If only you could make it inside Toto's office without raising questions and with a good excuse. You laugh at the idea; it's wild and ain't going to happen, and if it does, your ass is getting fired. 

As the Mission Impossible cord from the ceiling scene comes to your mind, it's time for you to go to sleep.

-

As you anxiously roll from side to side of the bed, struggling to shut your brain off, you remember that Niki's surprise birthday celebration is scheduled in two weeks; you could volunteer to help organize the event and usher the people around, including Toto.

There is the slightest chance to make it to his office and take a quick photo of the sticky notes on the wall; it's borderline mental, but you really want to find out because Rose sounded so sure!

This is fucking insane. 

-

Two weeks, two new bouquets later.

When you finally reach the upper floor, where the "top-tier people work," almost everyone has left to get to the party on time. 

Being on time in Mercedes is a must, so there are few people you need to usher there.

You got accepted to join the Niki's celebration committee as a helper minion. Weirdly, it will be hosted in the base race of all places instead of the Silver Arrow Lounge, where most celebrations are usually held.

The decor is ready, the cake is at the counter, and the many photo props and snacks inspired by Niki's red cap are in place; even the catering and most of the people invited have arrived.

But Allison and Toto are nowhere to be seen, and the head of HR is on her nerves about it, thinking it could ruin the surprise or that two of the most influential people there are going to miss such an important event.

As you approach the bosses' offices area, you quickly search in the surroundings for them; it helps you that all offices have glass panel walls.

You venture to wander more, but nada, they are not there, and at this point, no one is there. As you return to the stairs, you pass in front of Toto's office once more. 

You just need to snap a quick picture. What could go wrong? No one is near to see you, and there are no cameras around since Toto dislikes that.

"Okay, Y/N, listen, it's just a couple of steps; you have your phone in your hand; it won't take more than a few seconds..."

You feel your body acting on its own and your feet slowly moving ahead. 

You gradually enter the luxurious and immaculate office.

"Okay, like four steps more, and I'm close enough to zoom in the picture." 

When you almost reach his desk and the perfect distance to snap the photo, you sense movement outside, fuck, fuck, fuck. You feel someone standing behind you, right at the door. 

Busted!

—Yes? Can I help you? —Toto's voice comes severe but calm.

You feel your heart in your throat as you slowly turn around. 

—Yes, you can! —you quickly reply, pretending to be looking at the cool helmets and steering wheels at the corner. Is it the best move your mind could come up with? Certainly not —...Sir... —you kind of finish saying, remembering he is the boss.

Toto stares at you, waiting for you to continue as you stand motionless in the middle of the room, looking straight at him. His eyebrows go up a little, and a tiny, amused smile forms on his lips as he moves his hand, gesturing you to continue.

—They are all waiting for you at the race base, sir... to start Niki's surprise reception. He is about to arrive. 

—And they sent you to get me?

—Yes —you feel the need to explain yourself more, feeling nervous. —Niki has no idea who I am, so I'm not blowing the surprise away if I bump into him on my way here! 

—Interesting... —he lets out gradually.

Oh god, Toto has no clue who I am either, right?

Fuck, I'm such an idiot!

—Oh, I, I'm Y/N —your brain starts working again as you quickly introduce yourself to him, offering him a hand to shake.

He looks even more perplexed at you but grabs it; it's awkward, and you want to crawl into a hole or hide beneath the expensive rug you are stepping on.

—We should get going; I have places to go, and I'm on a schedule today.

—Oh yes, of course, sir —you quickly exit his office as he closes its glass door behind you. Well, you literally pass below his muscular arm. 

Toto doesn't move much, so you squeeze in, almost brushing his body as you out, and he simultaneously closes the door, fuck, he is tall and smells so so so good.

-

It's a quiet walk downstairs; just the sound of your steps and breaths fills the room. You feel intimidated by Toto's presence, not used to having him that near you and being a shy-natured girl.

He seems to slow down his step, prolonging your agony. 

Should I say something? But what about? Work? Something casual? You assume he wonders the same since you feel his eyes on you every few steps, but he dares to break the ice before you can.

—So y..

—I'm To... Oh, sorry, go ahead —he says at the same time.

—Oh, no worries —you nervously place a strand of your hair behind your ear. He follows the movement of your hand with his eyes. —What were you saying? —you look straight at him, Jesus; he is way cuter up close; that's some strong jawline, you can't control your eyes going all over his features.

—That I didn't introduce myself upstairs. I'm Toto, by the way —he offers you a kind and unintentionally sexy smile.

You notice, a bit way too much, how all his traits soften and how relaxed and joyful he looks when he smiles.

It turns out that "The Creepy Employee Girl" should be your nickname now.

After perceiving him as less threatening, you joke around to make the air less awkward. —Really? I had no idea! I thought you were that Lewis guy everyone talks about! But nice to meet you Toto By The Way —you fool around.

He laughs a bit. —You never heard of me before? I guess I'm losing popularity around here nowadays!

—You must hang around more to be part of the "popular squad".

—Who holds the title right now?

—The gnomes.

—Oh, yes, they are quite popular.

—A bit too much, yeah.

As you two reach the entrance to the race base, he rushes his step to hold open the door for you, letting you go first; you feel his intense gaze follow you every step as you pass right across from him, making you feel things he shouldn't. 

Everyone who got invited is already there; the usually squeaky-clean and clear white counters now hold cups, party hats, bottles of champagne and sparkling water, delicacies, and a big red cap-shaped cake.

—Great! The boss is here! Please, bring Niki in —you hear the HR director speak through the intercom as she looks your way, sounding so relieved, and a minute later, all of you start cheering as Niki enters the room.

You expect Toto to instantly leave your side and go near the big names of the company and his precious stylish drivers, but no, he stays right next to you.

As Niki almost reaches you two, getting hugs all his way down, he comes closer to Toto first and says in a low voice, but you are still able to hear him. —Is the cake vegan?! —looking concerned before tightly and roughly hugging him, knowing they would call him to blow out the candles and bite the cake soon.

—No, sir, this time they brought Lewis his own cake —you inform him, getting in the conversation, as the two of them turn to look at you.

—Oh, thank god! I almost spit out last year's "fake" cake! Hi Y/N! I didn't notice you there! This mountain was on the way —he pats Toto's chest a bit too strongly. Niki makes a funny face, eyebrows going up, not sugarcoating around as usual but earnest and light-spirited.

You laugh, exhaling cute sounds; even you have to admit you have a lovely, infectious laugh.

—Hi sir, happy birthday!

How on earth does Niki know my name?! He knows who I am?! WHAT...

-

—...the fuck were you thinking?! —Oliver looks shocked and pale as you update him and Rose about your little adventure today. —You honestly thought it could be Toto?!

—Can a girl have a dream?! —you shrug as you keep typing violently on your computer, wanting to finish that notice as soon as possible to move on to the next task, starting to feel stressed.

—You could have got into serious trouble, like big trouble, like getting fired trouble —Rose says, dead serious. —I feel terrible for enabling you!

—I know it was reckless and stupid, really stupid! —you admit, feeling dumb now about your actions.

God knows what got into you!

-

The next day, on your way to the cafeteria for lunch, you sense something is going on; everyone is acting weird.

Until you enter the room to find Toto having his meal in there, alone at a table, aware of the looks he is getting.

What is he doing here? He usually goes out for lunch or eats inside his office.

The fuck.

He waves a hand at you; you look around to see if he is addressing someone else till he arches an eyebrow, slightly annoyed, so you hurry up to reach him.

—Well, you weren't wrong! By all the looks I received on my way here, and fairly now, it appears I don't hang around much —he invites you to sit, stretching his arm, pointing to the chair in front of his, before continuing. —It wasn't unusual to see me everywhere before; of course, it was the early days, and we were a smaller team back then —he almost looked sad and nostalgic about it.

—Look at you, man of the people!

—Eat your salad —he rolls his eyes at you as you get your lunch out.

—Is that like a boss order, or?

—Maybe, if I'm feeling moody. 

—So, I guess most of the old guard is gone?

—Are you low-hand calling me old?

—Well, how ancient are you?

—I'm almost 70 —he makes you smile and looks all pleased with himself and his dumb humor. —I know, I look good for 70!

—Who would have thought you had a sense of humor? You always look severe and bossy.

—Can you stop low-key insulting me?

—Neva'

-

After two weeks of having lunch with Toto and getting to know each other more every day, you two become friends; some days, a different person joins you; at some point, you can't believe you are sharing quinoa recipes with Lewis and comparing drinking pub stories with Niki.

—Is it me, or have you abandoned us, the peasants? —Oliver says to you when you return to the office.

—Oh, come on! You can join, you know that! He knows who you two are; we talk about you guys a lot, and he greets you daily!

—Now that you are part of the "big farts" table, hanging with the famous, why would you care about two random coworkers? —Rose overdramatizes.

—OH COME ON!

—Apparently, you don't care about the old and wise saying "Bros before hoes," —Oliver adds.

—Of course, I care about you two hoes. Please join us tomorrow. PLEASE?! —you beg them with the biggest smile and puppy eyes ever seen.

—Eating with the boss and talking to him? I'm not risking it! —Oliver says, dead honest, not trusting himself.

—He is trying to reconnect with the team; he isn't going to judge you! Besides, Toto knows you are my besties.

Two long "aw" come your way.

—That's so cute, but NO! —Rose ends the conversation.

-

As you admire the new bouquet of tulips you get delivered the next day, your phone suddenly buzzes on your desk, distracting you from finishing updating the chart with the latest data.

—Lunchtime already? 😩🥙

—Who this? 👀

—Luke, I'm your father.

—He dead 🙏🌫️

—Oh, shit, sorry! Bad joke!

—💀💀💀

—There's no need to be that explicit.

—It means dying of laughter!

—Oh, shit, I'm old, it's Toto By The Way.

—I'm saving you with that name! How did you get my number?

—By boss privilege.

—YES! LET'S LUNCH PLEASE! I'm Hungarian.

—What?

—Typo sorry, hungry!

—HA! See you in five! 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️

-

—Could going to lunch with someone at the cafeteria be considered a date? —you turn around in your office chair to address Oliver.

—Dreaming is free, bestie!

-

On your way to meet Toto, you bump into the most annoying senior engineer, Mr. Schäfer, in the corridor. 

OH GOD! Please don't talk to me, please don't talk to me, you think as you two cross paths, but sadly, you notice him stop his step after making eye contact with you.

—Miss, Y/LN. A minute?

SHIT!

-

—Sorry I'm late! "Gwen Stefani" got me on my way here!

—Who? —Toto looks at you, amused and confused.

Shit! You burped out.

—Ahem, Mr. Schäfer —you quickly correct, taking your water bottle out of your bag and drinking it after rushing there. Toto stares at the couple of drops that escape your lips and slide down your chin and neck, and he swallows hard.

—What did you call him? —Toto asks, clearing his throat.

—Oh, don't mind me!

—Yes, mind you! It's a pretty accurate nickname, I must admit it, even if I shouldn't, but it fits —Toto shrugs nonchalantly, with a chuckle on his face. 

Schäfer is really pretty, lean, blond, pale, has big bambi's brown eyes, and his voice is so annoying.

And now you feel embarrassed.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, as you two eat, Toto says: —Do I have a nickname?

—Oh, no, no one dares.

—Why? Do people fear me? —his expression changes to one of concern. —Maybe that would explain why people always seem to slow down their pace in the main corridor as soon as they see me inside the elevator. I always try to press the hold button to wait for them.

—This leaves me with a question: How do you fit in there? Your hair sure is touching the ceiling —he looks at you with an "Are you kidding me?" face. —No, for real!

—Don't avoid the actual question!

—Okay, okay, it's more like you intimidate. You look a bit, ahem, stern.

—Really? So, that was your first impression of me?

—Well, not really —you feel your cheeks turning red, fuck. —The first time I saw you, IRL.

—Sorry?

—In real life! You were being interviewed at the reception on that pearl/grey, awful porn movie-esque rug, which is inappropriate to say because the interviewer was a kid; anyway, It was something adorable to see. So that was my first impression of you, sweet and kind —his eyes soften at your answer, and you feel your knees touching beneath the table. —And also well lit —you joke. 

As you do your best at not being honest and admitting to Toto, you fell in love with him the first time you saw him. It was instant.

—Oh. 

-

Another week goes by, February starts, and the most stunning bouquet to this moment arrives. Okay, this one is a lot. 

—Good lord, "Creepy Flower Guy" went full force with this one; what did you do to him?! —Rose asks, jaw on the floor as she stares at that humongous thing.

—I have no fucking clue.

—You think he is about to reveal himself? —Oliver points out. —Maybe this is a "going out with a BANG!".

—Honestly, I don't care much about it anymore —you admit. You feel several heads turning your way, shocked.

"It's not who I would like it to be," you think. You don't need to say more to know that Oliver and Rose get it.

-

That working day was cut short since it was the Monster-sponsored "Spartan Race," a cross-fit competition. 

Many coworkers listed at the contest held outside on the garden grounds where a fancy circuit got built, but not you. You volunteered to help deliver the medals to the participants at the finish line.

In the meantime, you take a good spot with Oliver to watch the competition unfold and cheer for Rose.

—You go, Rambo! —you scream at her as she completes another obstacle course.

You watch Toto pass in those goddamn shorts, looking so hot, all sweaty. Toto's shirt's tight fabric on the skin leaves little to the imagination.

You meet him at the finish line an hour later, as you are now doing your duty. As soon as he notices you, he starts to jog in your direction with the most mischievous smile.

—Oh no, no, no! Don't you even...! —you receive the biggest and tightest hug from a sweaty, wet, and full of dirt and mud Toto.

—OH GOD! Get off! —you pull him away, making yucky faces.

—I was hoping to bump into you at the circuit! —he tells you, still with a lot of energy, as you place his gold medal on his neck, he is bending to your height.

—I'm not that sporty; you would have to drag me to the finish line.

—I would have gladly carried you around in these powerful arms! —he jokes while flexing.

You roll your eyes at him.

-

The next day, at your desk.

As you blast the newest episode of your favorite crime podcast, Rose and Oliver start making eye contact with you, trying to grab your attention, moving their eyes several times to the left as you take out your AirPods.

—WHAT?!

—Sure, those things cancel noise! I have spent about an hour trying to talk to you!

Oh shit, you jump a little at the sound of Toto's voice near your ear.

—Were you listening to a murder podcast? At work?! You are going to hurt your ears; I was able to hear it from here —Toto is leaning on the left side of your desk.

—Maybe... I was... —you look at him with squinted eyes, and he looks back at you the same way.

—What is that thing?! —Toto says, a bit disgusted at the exuberance, pointing to the enormous bouquet beside your computer.

—It's a long story —you try to avoid the subject.

—I want to hear it when I return. I will not join you at lunch today or the rest of the week.

—Bummer, where are you going then? —you turn in your chair to face him.

Everyone looks at you with a "Did you really ask the boss that?" face.

—Austria, It's my mom's birthday.

—Aw, sweet, wish her a happy birthday for me!

—I will —you look at each other tenderly, both wanting to say more. You suddenly feel the desperate need to hug Toto, but a simple: —See you next week, then! —comes out of your mouth, ending the interaction.

-

It's almost Valentine's Day, and Toto has returned from his little adventure in the mountains; he laughs when you text him that. You two talked even more than usual every day during his absence.

So you text him if you could go up to his office.

—Knock, knock —you say as you pop your head in at his door.

He brightens as he sees you, fully smiling at you, making your stomach feel butterflies. 

—Please, come in!

You approach his desk, holding something in your hands; it's an envelope with an invitation in the old-fashioned way. —Hi! —you smile big at him. —I have the obligation to invite you to the traditional "Lonely Hearts Party" on Valentine's Day!

—No one wants the boss at an outside-the-office party —he looks at you a bit taken out.

—Yeah, I know, we know. But still, you are invited. It's for singles only, assuming that you are single, which no one thinks you are, so here —you feel Toto's hand touching yours as you deliver him the envelope, leaving you with a lingering sensation on your fingers, a very Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy moment in your delulu mind.

—I'm going to be in Brazil, but thank you anyway, and yes, I'm single —he pays attention to your reaction to his words, and you pray for him not to notice the little happy smile forming on your lips. —Are you... are you like... seeing someone? —he asks you.

—I'm going to attend the Lonely Hearts Party, you think?! Listen, my neighbor, Miss Tailor, is 80 and has a boyfriend; even that old rag has seen more action than me this year!

Toto's palm goes onto his face, bursting with laughter; he is laughing so hard at your comment that no sound comes out of his throat, just hallows of air, and he goes all red, not believing your words. —You are quite something! —He lets you know and looks at you with adoration, his face resting on his hand and his elbow on the desk. 

—I know —you nod, kidding. —Anyway, have a nice day, and see you later!

-

During that day's lunch break, Toto demands you to explain to him in detail all about that "Creepy Flower Guy," he even ventures to guess who he is after listening to the whole story.

—Milo, Ben, and Ansel all have stared you down when you walk past in front of them, with lust obviously, and I heard Finn once complimenting your good looks to say it nicely —he informs you.

Is that jealousy you detect?

Toto does pay attention.

-

It's Wednesday, and your car is out in maintenance, so you make it extra early on that day at the office; you wanted to avoid risking it being late since you aren't used to using public transport to get there.

You make it just in time to witness Mike walking away from your desk inside your desert office through the glass panel wall from afar. As you walk to your chair, you notice new flowers are already in place. You feel your heartbeat going full speed and a wave of disappointment washing you over; what were you expecting, for it to really be Toto?

That entire day, you remain all moody and quiet, and your friends notice it, but you say nothing about it.

You even ask your boss to leave early, being unable to handle being near Toto today, which leaves him worried, judging by the four texts and two missed phone calls you received from him, wondering where you are and if everything is okay.

-

Four days later, you are like nothing has happened. As you walk your way to enter the building where you work, you notice Toto sitting alone in the distance, having a call; you slowly start to walk toward him, switching paths.

He finally has returned from his trip to Stuggart.

—Well, the "Creepy Flower Guy" saga has come to an end, my friend; I found out who he is —you inform him, unenthusiastic, as you sit on the bench in the pond's garden right next to him.

—You don't seem so excited —Toto's eyes look slightly concerned as he tells you.

—Well, no, to be honest.

—Drumrolls —Toto says, trying to lift your spirits, slapping his thighs, making the sound. —And the creep is?!

—Mike, from financial.

—Magic Mike?! —Toto lets out a bit too loud.

—Yep!

—Are you sure? Like 100%? But how?!

You nod. —I saw Mike near my desk in the early hours a couple of days ago, and the flowers were there as he was walking away from the crime scene! Also, by the drawer full of flower receipts at his office desk. They all match the types of bouquets I received and have the exact dates.

—Are you creeping around in people's offices again?

—WAIT A MINUTE! I wasn't creeping into your office! 

—Oh no? What were you doing near my desk? Looking for Niki's cake?

—Shut up! I was looking for you. 

—Yes, I love to hide myself in there —Toto playfully and softly pushes you. 

—And NO! I wasn't creeping around in Mike's office; Anita sent me to get the notice she needed, and I went there; it turns out Mike was on holiday, but he left the instruction to collect it from the drawer on his desk, and then I opened the wrong drawer and BAMB! It was full of receipts and bills from the flower company that delivered my flowers. Not to be nosy, but Magic Mike is doing pretty well; I had no idea how expensive they were!

—Wait! But you aren't telling me! Are you into Magic Mike? Do you fancy him?

—No, not him, anyway.

Toto stares intensely at you and wants to say more. If you weren't so in the zone, you would have noticed it and given him a chance, but no, you continue blurting out words.

—But I will go and thank him, I guess. I don't want to hurt him; he is lovely. Everyone told me to go out on a date with him. I don't feel like it right now, but it's not always love at first sight, right? Maybe that doesn't even exist; I was expecting to fall in love, you know, movie style, but that may not be real, or at least not for girls like me. Besides, Valentine's Day is approaching, and I don't feel like spending it alone again —you let out a sigh after talking forever.

—Weren't you going to that Lonely Hearts Party? It sounds fun. It's better than going on a date with someone you don't like just to feel better —Toto tells you a bit moody.

—Oh god, I love you; you are always right; you are so annoying —you add while hugging and kissing him on the cheek. —Is there any chance I can fit in your suitcase for Brazil? I wouldn't mind spending Valentine's Day with a hot Brazilian or at the beach.

Toto laughs while shaking his head.

—I have to go! —you complain, checking the hour on your smartwatch. —Unfortunately, I have work to pretend to do! 

—Sometimes I feel you forget I'm the boss here —he jokes with you as he crosses his arms and watches you walk backward, still facing him, getting further away.

—YES SIR!

-

It's the Wednesday before Valentine's Day, and to everyone's surprise, the flowers stop arriving.

"Did Toto tell Mike I don't like him and to stop sending me flowers?" You take out your phone to text him.

—Apparently, even "Creepy Flower Guy" gave up on me.

—Really?! —Toto replies.

—Yes. No flowers today.

He gives you no further information, no replying text comes your way.

-

It's Valentine's Day, and you are wearing a shiny red mini dress with matching bow heels to the Lonely Hearts Party.

You took your time doing your makeup, which you feel you nailed, and your hair looks sleek. 

As you check yourself in the mirror, you feel confident and hot!

-

After several drinks and enjoying the music and the vibe, you relish the party, but your mind keeps wandering to the anticlimactic ending of the flower guy mystery.

The only crime and murder here was the one of your feelings and heart.

Two hours later, you start to feel bummed out enough after witnessing many hookups and new couples forming, slightly envious of them and feeling lonelier than ever, aching that Toto was here with you instead of Brazil. You decide you've had enough and are about to leave when you feel a soft finger tap on your right shoulder. You turn around to see who it is.

Definitely, you aren't ready for the scene that greets you.

Toto is standing right before you, holding a bouquet in his hands, looking extremely handsome, with a shy smile on his lips.

—What are you doing here?! —you look astonished at him. Am I that drunk?! Thinking you are seeing things now.

—I felt like delivering them to you in person from now on —he offers you the roses.

Your brain takes its time to process his words and what's happening. This is really happening.

—You are? —you try to say and instinctively grab the bouquet.

—The Creepy Flower Guy, yes.

You laugh at the sound of the nickname on his lips.

—Let's call him "flower guy" from now on.

—Yeah, let's call him Toto better, or my love, if you prefer. I hope you aren't as disappointed this time.

—But Mike? —you ask, confused.

—Have you ever heard of the terms invoice and tax returns? He does my accounting, too. Mike helped me deliver the flowers till I felt ready to show myself. He is a long friend of mine.

—That's why he had all the receipts; that makes sense. Wait!

You close the distance between Toto and you and place a kiss on his lips; getting on your tiptoes, he slowly and hungrily starts kissing you more, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, not letting you move an inch away from him.

—Thank you for the flowers, my love but weren't you supposed to be in Brazil by now? —you ask him as you both catch your breaths.

His lips are so soft and warm.

—Oh, I'm going to be in Brazil soon, but I forgot to mention to you that you would also be there. Happy Valentine's Day, my love! —he gives you another long and delicious kiss.

—Shouldn't I have packed? —you ask against his lips, already overthinking.

Toto shakes his head.

—We aren't going to need much clothes, anyway. -

Would you like to read another Toto fic? Masterlist: Here

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 9)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things 📍 Part 10 - Good Deeds

Part 9 - Shiny Things

Ephi moves in, and Ruth reads you like an open book.

「Warnings/Promises: HumanAlastor x Fem! BurlesqueReader, Reference to domestic abuse of non-reader character, fucks, crows, swans, emotions be emotioning, so many birds, I don’t think reader is Aromantic I think she’s just stubborn, Cliff diving is just a joke do not follow people off cliffs, everyone is kicking reader’s ass in some way, my apologies to parts of Texas but not Texas as a whole」

Long time no see ! My head wasn’t in the right space for this story, and my head was also literally not doing well. But! Reading glasses helped since I’m writing on my phone like 7 inches from my face. the goal is Wednesday updates~ there’s about four parts already written so we’ve got a month of runway 👌🏼 Wednesday mornings are ‘God, That’s Good’ by @macabr3-barbi3 and nights are ADIF!

🎶 last time on A Doe In Fall 🎶 : you came home from your first week staying officially at Alastor’s to find your estranged sister waiting on your stoop.

this isn’t sexy but just like minors come on, MDNI? This blog is a sex shop

It’s not that you hated your sister, it’s that you resented her. You could love someone and not like them an ounce… but unfortunately when she left so did your familial love. Which meant all that held you together now was distrust and an obligation to a dead woman. 

“So things didn’t pan out up north?” You waved her into your apartment, agitation apparent in even the gesture of your arm. 

“It’s peachy! Just need to lay low a bit.” She said it with a chipper voice while looking around your apartment like she paid for it. “Wow you weren’t lying about the no money, huh? Talk about a shoebox.”

Charming. 

“Well, Ephi, you’re welcome to leave.” While you didn’t understand the name it wasn’t your business to question what someone asked to be called. Especially considering your own dual identity. You may have disliked the woman but human decency still hung to the bones of the relationship you called your sisterhood.

An obnoxious chuckle, “Nah it’ll do! Just the one single bed?”

“Why would I have more than one bed?”

A deep sigh from her, “Still last to be picked by the fellas, sis?” Her hand passed over your dresses hanging in the open closet, “The ugly duckling was always your favorite story.”

The fine hairs rose on the back of your neck, a cat’s hackles moving as the anger bristled through your body. You opened your mouth to shout all the ways you were not the ugly one in the room, hand already in the air to direct her attention to the dried, hanging flowers covering the far wall. How many people threw flowers at her feet? How many proposals were shouted to her? Wedding rings slipped off fingers and into pockets for her? 

The air in your lungs went flat as a small fire of embarrassment rose in your gut.

How could she so quickly reduce you to a little girl again? Taking the bait for a fight you couldn’t win, because she wasn’t listening to anything but her own voice. Biting the inside of your cheek, your hand fell back to your side.

“You can take it. I’ll just be by for clothes now and then. Been staying with a friend closer to work.” Flipping through your mind you tried to catalog your valuables. What did you absolutely need to not turn up missing?

Ephi sat on the bed and crossed her legs in her best imitation of a lady. “Staying with Mister Fancy Pants?” A smile that reminded you of your childhood. A smile that said, “I won’t tell mom!” Right before turning and running to your mother’s ear.

“No.” 

A giggle two octaves above her usual tone, “Sure, okay! No skin off my back.”

You took your time to gather the items you had forgotten first, then the items you didn’t want her to have. Unsure how exactly to tell Alastor why a week into sharing his home officially you were already redecorating, you left that for your future self to figure out. The first item was obvious.

An angel statue your mother kept on her nightstand. You wrapped it in some newspaper, trying not to look in her direction. 

Your sister chased dick like most people chased liberty. Something she shared with your mother. Which was her right, but it rubbed you the wrong way how she would always forget everyone else in her life when she had a man to call her own. A fair weather friend, at that. 

“How’s Howard?” The dick that took her away so many years ago.

She abandoned the lady act and rummaged through your cabinets, “Who’s that?”

Right.

A gold coin on a necklace. You slipped it inside a sock. 

“So, then, who is the man of the hour?”

Ephi began opening the dresser drawers, poking here and there. “Whaddya mean! I am an independent woman.”

You weren’t sure that had ever been true. While your mother had drilled it into your skull to never place yourself in the need of a man, she always seemed to throw her heart (and house keys and purse strings…) at the feet of any man willing to love her. 

“Love” her. 

There was no love in any of that. A common problem of confusing love with any and all intense emotions affected your mother and many others.

Slashed furniture is not adoration. Breaking windows is not a love language. Bruises are not affection.

Your hands ran down the bag’s shapeless sides. Without thinking, you smiled. Adoration. Love languages. Affection. You had them and the knowledge of their secrets all to yourself. 

Secrets you didn’t need slipping out. Secrets your sister couldn’t hold to save her life, or yours for that matter. You hurried around the room grabbing knick-knacks and photos and jewelry. Alastor would be at work soon, you wondered if you should call to warn him. This time not about a hot headed flatfoot but a nosey sibling.

You’d tell him later. No reason to talk to Brenda again. Quickly your leather bag got full and heavy. What was supposed to be a casual foray into sharing a home already turning into a full on move. 

Everything you needed and a few things no one ever would, because damn would Ephi pawn them the very second she needed something, were safely zipped away. Any plans to relax at home before work were abandoned and you just marched to the door. 

A random memory flashed behind your eyes,  washing Alastor’s hair in the tub until the water ran clear. Why now? The only memory shared in your apartment. And it was an awful one. But, it had Alastor. That gave it value. 

“Hey, if any men come by looking for me you just don’t answer, okay?” You forced your face to relax, to show the sincerity you worked so hard to keep to yourself, “Please, Ephi.”

Her smile widened past unnaturally white teeth, no money for a room but clearly cash for peroxide tooth gel, “Ooh, why? Little sister make some enemies?”

Why couldn’t she just fucking agree?

“My job sometimes attracts crazies. I don’t tell them where I live but occasionally they figure it out. They’ve gotten violent before so…just don’t answer the buzzer. They’ll say they’re damn near anyone to get you to let them up.” You stopped the nervous twisting of your bag’s handle, “Boyfriend, boss, detective. They've tried it all.”

“Aww, sis. Look at you.” She leaned her full figure against the open door frame, arm raised up like a pin up. Ephi was always effortlessly enchanting when her mouth was closed. “Stalkers? Mama would be so proud. Finally learning how to catch a man’s attention.”

The tears that stung your eyes were inspired partly by anger and partly by pain. They came so suddenly you could only laugh in response. 

“Lovely to see your new name hasn’t changed you, Ephi. I’ll be back occasionally. Don’t steal anything, no strangers over. Spare key is in the bowl by the door.” 

“Oh hey!” 

You turned back.

“I do need some cash. Until I find work.”

The numbness blanketed you with a chill. 

“I’ve got like, three bucks. Is that fine?”

Why did you ask that? You knew she could very well say it wasn’t fine and you’d be obligated to offer to get more. Atleast, that’s what you’d have done when you were younger. How easily you both slipped into old roles. Or perhaps she never grew out of hers. 

She mulled it over, “Yeah that’ll be fine.” Her hand came out and waited for the bills.

An open palm waiting for your money.

You pulled the folded bills from your wallet and set them in her hand without touching her skin. 

“Thanks sis!” She turned and closed the door before you could reply.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The other dancers shot you a look when your bag jingled and clanked as it hit the floor, you wincing as you remembered the ceramic figurine.

“You…. going somewhere, hun? The detective got you on something?”

A quick shake of your head. You hadn’t considered the optics. Luckily it was early enough the room wasn’t very busy. A few select missing women would have pried for more information. Your hands fidgeted, unsure what to do. On the way in you saw some newer talent getting their feet on stage, maybe watch them? Too early for make up. 

A loving voice from Ruth, always a savior, “Cigarette?”

You melted at the offer. Alastor wasn’t a fan of the smell so you were slyly cutting back. 

She popped a sun bleached folding chair open and set it in between you both as a footrest. So many broken and ruined chairs littered the sides of the dingy roof, you were shocked she found a good one on her first try.

“Alright, tell me what happened with that detective. Do I need to go rough up a city employee?” Ruth leaned back and settled into her chair with a creak and a whine of the wood.

You needed a second, eyes flitting around as she handed her cigarette for you to take a drag. What could you say? What did she already know? You’d not spoken about it since she helped shoo him away but the appearance of half your belongings haphazardly stuffed into a bag clearly had her alarms going off. 

“So remember the guy who came by for me? Tall handsome one.”

She nodded enthusiastically, “Yes! Of course. Don’t forget a name like his. Or face.” She whistled like a crude man trying to get a woman’s attention in the most annoying way.

“The detective thinks he did something to Tommy. That he was jealous. Which is ridiculous-,” you felt a nervous energy slip down your arms. 

An abrupt laugh, “That string bean couldn’t open a heavy window. He didn’t do shit to Tommy. What a stupid thing to say.”

Did she notice how much you’d been holding your breath? A deep sigh as you let it go. “Exactly! He doesn’t even know about what happened that night with that guy and Tommy’s arrangement; it’s too mortifying. Anyway, the detective has been hounding me about it. I don’t wanna cause trouble.” You ashed the cigarette and held it out for her, “Stuff is still new with him and me, so I didn’t tell the detective his details or work anything. Why would I? So he can harass him too?” The words all tumbled out so quickly. A faucet turned too far to the left.

“Fair.” A few passes back and forth in what you hoped was a comfortable silence and not an indication she was piecing together things you needed to remain unlinked. Finally, “Didn’t realize you two were still seeing each other. Longest one you’ve kept for awhile now.”

Looking up, you marveled at the view of the open sky. Not a cloud in sight. A smile crept across your face, the heat of the sun warming you from the inside out. The slightest chill to the air warning you of Fall. “Yeah.”

She asked what made him so special and you didn’t know where to start. “The obvious,” you began. “He’s so-,”

“Clever.” “Handsome.”

You’d spoken at the same time, her attempt at soothsaying failing miserably.

“Clever, Ruth. He’s very clever. Handsome men are a dime a dozen. But he’s sharp as a tack.” She rolled her eyes and waved her hand around for you to go on. You let your mind toss out the shiniest examples. “He’s so skilled. He knows how to hunt and take apart animals. He can fish. Cooks like a dream. He knows how to clean clothes well and how to use a washing board.” 

“Useful.” She mused. That isn’t what you meant. You weren’t trying to list off his features like a new appliance. It was just— impressive. He was well rounded.

“And he’s terribly kind. He’s always,” how to say it delicately, “going out of his way to help others solve their problems.” That seemed accurate and vague enough. You chuckled to yourself, remembering him at the kitchen table, “His face lights up so bright when he’s talking about his hobbies. Like, I can see his soul glittering behind his eyes and suddenly I’m just as interested in whatever he’s talking about as he is.” You let your eyes close around the mental image of his surprised face every time you complimented him. But they shot open when she began giggling, “What?”

“You’re in looooove,” her foot kicked yours, “I know that look. Head over heels already. Talking about him like he made the fucking stars.”

Wide eyed and stunned, was it written on your face so plainly? “Oh don’t say that. It makes me so uncomfortable. We’re just enjoying each other's company.” When she moved to give you the cigarette again you didn’t take it. “All I was saying was—,” fuck, what were you saying? That he was special? “He’s a very nice person to spend my limited time with. It’s a finite resource and all.”

With a shrug she took another puff, “What’s to be uncomfortable about? Falling in love is a wonderful thing, hun.”

Was it? Honestly, had she ever considered how much damage came with loving someone? It was putting your heart outside your body. Letting someone else carry it around and just praying they didn’t hurt you, or get hurt, or go off and die and take your heart with them. Why would anyone willingly do such a silly thing?

“Cheesy. And kind of creepy. Falling? How do I get back up if things go south?”

You’d successfully avoided emotional attachment to nearly every lover you’d taken. The way women seemed to get struck down dumb by any old John or Jane just wasn’t appealing. Love was for fools. The weak. The dependent.

Or, so you had whispered to yourself as you pretended to not be home when suitors came knocking, as you avoided ringing phones, as you apologized and slid out of restaurant seats after awkward dinners. 

“If you fall hard enough, you don’t get back up.” She said it like it was a good thing. “You’ll love them forever, even if you hate em.”

That was the problem, too. How could she not hear that as she said it? All loss of control of your own heart and emotions was simply bad. People do irrational things for love.

You shivered, “That sounds absolutely horrid, Ruth.”

“Aah,” she dismissed you with a raspberry blown between her lips, “For the right man, you’ll find yourself enjoying the trip down!” 

“Nah, I’m not fan of heights. No dick is worth that.”

“Is that all men are to you? Sex?” She guffawed, taken aback by your comment. Which was odd, given it was Ruth. 

But, Yes.

Well. No . But — he wasn't a man. He was something different. The exception to the rule. Alastor was different.

Or, fine. 

Yes, he was a man. 

No, you didn’t see them as just sex. It was easier to say people were just pleasure and not stop to think about life any other way. Things got complicated when you added another person. Life became sloppy and uncontainable. If you stopped and considered the lives behind the people you used to lead on and let go before things got too difficult, you’d just wound yourself. It was easier to stop at sex.

When you could. Which you could, before. When sex was a token you traded back and forth with someone. But Alastor didn’t accept that currency. You couldn’t hand him your body and get brief but lovely companionship back. Your value had to lie elsewhere, the things you set before him and the wonders he had to offer were much richer in their worth than what you’d ever had before. 

Sometimes it felt like you slid him a penny and he handed you a quarter. You found yourself scrounging up the petty coins of your worth and trying to save them up for him. Practicing your makeup, learning how he liked his coffee, remembering all of the things he said he hated and loved. Attempting to stop smoking. Every act was another shiny offering for him. 

A crow scrounging the park grounds for glittering trash. Not very swan-like, you thought.

“You really don’t think you’re falling for him?” Ruth put out the cigarette in the coffee can beside her. As you turned to argue with her you saw her face full of amusement and incredulousness. It was rhetorical.

The argument withered and you could only pout, everyone that day seeming to catch your tongue, “I don’t wanna think about it. I’ll get scared and run away. He’ll figure out how little I have to give eventually. If anything more is gonna happen, it’ll happen. I’ll just… let it. Why ruin it with… saying childish things.”

“You’re naive but that’s okay. Enjoy the honeymoon stage while you can.”

Your eyes rolled, “What if he doesn’t feel the same? Why embarrass myself.” When you sighed the weight of just how heavy and true that sentiment was resonated in your stomach. Telling him you were falling in love? Alastor was a killer. His passion was singular. What good was a dame to him? No, worse than worthless. A liability. A witness. A weak point in the walls he so carefully crafted. If he knew you were in love with him he’d just end things sooner than they would have naturally.

“Dontcha wanna know if he’s a waste of that precious time, then?”

You cackled, choking on your spit. Alastor? He was the most worthwhile thing you’d ever encountered. Time with him suddenly had …. Value. That fucking word again. But time with him, it was slow enough to be deep and rich, but so fleeting you already felt a mourning mood for how much closer you were to the end.

You could only shake your head, “Wait, Ruth, didn’t you get divorced?”

“Shhh that doesn’t count!” She rose and stretched her long arms up to the sun and then out to the horizon, “Plus that’s how I know what I’m talking about! After the honeymoon phase? You’ll be arguing about laundry and wishing you were strangers again. Fighting about children and lawncare.”

As your finger nervously came to your mouth, teeth cutting into the nail, you considered how if Alastor complained about laundry and you could argue back with the comfort of knowing neither would simply leave, that’d be….nice. The safety of being honest without the fear of the other person giving up on you. Was that love? 

And did that matter at all? 

You’d thought earlier you knew the answers but now, when someone else said it, you got scared of those words. 

Ruth must have put a spell on you. As you and a bevy of others danced in line on stage, arms over shoulders and legs kicking high enough to show cheek and jiggle the soft skin of your thighs and stomach, you felt butterflies in your gut. Alastor would be picking you up in a matter of hours. 

A few men sent you drinks, which you repaid with a wink and a kiss blown across the bar before downing the liquor. It was the usual routine. You hadn’t felt nerves to see Alastor quite like that since sheepishly picking out “comfortable” shoes.

Alastor’s eyes widened when he took the bag from you, not noticing your attempts to avoid making eye contact. He let out a chuckle, his best attempt at stifling the joking question, “Already moving in?”

He realized quickly enough that wasn’t a good joke. Not when he finally looked up and saw your stare was distant. 

“Everything okay, dear?” He walked to open your door for you, and you nodded a thank you and an affirmative.

Should you rip off the band aid? Should you just say it and see what happens? 

When you turned to look at him and blurt out a confession, you were stopped by the profile of his face. What a gentle face. A lovely jaw. Even his bones were better than other people’s. What were you doing in this man’s car? What little pieces of glittering trash were you about to toss at him on a random Friday night?

No, in the books you read, confessions were always grande affairs. Fireworks and dinner parties and passionate kisses in rain storms.

You’d have to put a little effort into this. His brows rose as he clocked your staring. Eyes on the road, smirk pulled to the right, his hand came to rest on your thigh.

He deserved something much better than whatever you had to offer. Something unlike yourself entirely. 

The drive home, and yes you let yourself linger on the word instead of shoo it away, you watched a deer jump across the dirt road just past the bridge. 

“The bucks chase the does. It’s part of their mating ritual. I guess it’s not unlike the ‘playing hard to get’ some women like. The longer the chase, the prouder the buck to snag his prize.”

You laughed, “Women don’t like it, I don’t think. Well, some do I am sure but… If we don’t do that then people think we’re easy. We need plausible deniability. If people learn we put out we can claim we didn’t really want to and save some face.”

Alastor grimaced, “Gross.”

Unseen, you nodded and turned to watch the buck leap after its doe. 

“Kind of funny, you chased me down, didn’t you?” Alastor’s comment pulled you back to him.

“Oh yes. That makes you my doe.” Your arm came to rest against the car door, the trees slowly rolling by in the darkness. “Reminds me of the small freckles across your shoulders.”

“My mighty buck!” He fawned, in jest, pretending to collapse into your lap. You shoved him back up and behind the wheel proper. “Well given the chance, I’d chase you for miles.” His hand flexed on your leg.

“To Texas?” You asked. Your usual end point.

“Further.”

“How far?”

“There is no limit. I’d … run right off a cliff, head first, if you were waiting at the bottom.” He took his hand back, needing both to hold the wheel. What he said hit him harder than he had intended. Was it too much? A tad too dramatic? A nervous clearing of his throat, followed by an awkward laugh to put more space between him and the confession. 

The idea of you making Alastor chase you was ridiculous. You enjoyed the games you played with others, but you were never meant to be caught. If you wanted that, you’d just…give yourself. As you had done with him. Only him. The first and last person you ever wanted to give yourself over to in any sense. “And if I just… lied down and let you catch me? Would that make me a poorly earned prize?”

“Nope! That’d make me a lucky duck. And make you quite smart, if I do say so myself.” A wink. “Why run from such a catch like me?”

You landed a smack on his arm, light and playful. 

A truly comfortable silence settled in, just the sound of the car trembling over the rough road. The newest model Ford was still as loud as the last, but luckily you were far from others. 

The words had lingered like smoke, and you felt the need to address them.  

“Don’t actually do that though. If I run off a cliff or something stupid, don’t you dare follow me.”

Alastor just laughed, wasn’t that what you were doing for him already? Diving into hell for some inexplicable reason after Alastor. He wasn’t expressing some lack of self preservation, he was merely letting you know he’d reciprocate the fall. You hadn’t made him run after you, but instead seemed to just….rest your neck between his canines. And trust. 

If you were to go to heaven, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. It was too late to redeem his soul now. How far was heaven from hell, anyways? If the devil survived the plummet perhaps he could scale the walls of his enclosure and breach the gates.

Though, as he thought about the idea of heaven, he considered how happy his mother would be to meet you. To take you from her would be as cruel as heaven taking you from him. 

Maybe he could make a plea. To just be able to see you from below. 

But if the knowledge you were happy and safe was all he had, he’d be a richer man in hell than he’d ever been on earth. It’d be enough. 

He’d just need to broadcast his radio waves a little further for your listening pleasure.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, drinking, no smut (yet 😁)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: WELCOME TO MY FIRST REAL SERIES! i have a lot of ideas for this cuz i love this trope dearly so buckle up! more parts will come soon. also working on a tattooartist!reader x matt series (thank you anons) that will also be out eventually. in the mean time if you have smaller/specific reqs you’d like to see, my inbox is open babies! and if u just wanna say hello or ask a question i’m here xoxo

the music booms over the speakers inside the house next door, just like it always does on the weekends (and occasionally on thursdays too). it always drives you up a wall, but tonight it’s particularly bad.

you sit up slightly in bed, absentmindedly wondering who the fuck is on aux. you’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but you know it’s not chris, because these picks are horrendous.

it’s already past two in the morning, not to mention it’s the middle of the week. you haven’t been able to get a wink of rest, even with your headphones blaring at full volume. usually they do the trick, but tonight’s party is relentless, demanding to be heard.

wine wednesday, you think to yourself sourly.

neither of your roommates are home; they’re both off with their significant others, somewhere that’s not here, listening to fuckface and his friends get drunk.

you’re usually pretty passive about the noise, because they provide free alcohol for you guys when you show up and typically give you notice that they’re throwing something.

but tonight it’s just too fucking much. you’re tired, and groggy, and very much so still in your silky pajama bottoms and oversized t-shirt, but you don’t give a shit.

you jam your feet into some sneakers and grab a jacket, clutching it close to your chest as you head down the stairs to the main level of your own house.

you pass the dark living room, shadows leering in the corners as you’re guided only by the light coming from the street lamps outside.

you step onto the porch and the cold smacks you in the face, breath fogging up the air. it’s the middle of january in boston, and the expanse of dead grass between your houses crunches under your feet as you tread toward the front door.

the rest of the street is quiet, aside from the party. but they’re all senior hockey players, and it’s the beginning of their last semester, so what else can you expect?

besides maybe some basic human decency every once in a while. in fact, you’re so frustrated that you’re going in without backup, and without a real plan of any kind.

for some reason, once you get up the three steps to their door, you pause to knock. as if anyone would hear you over the music, or care enough to open the door for someone who’s fucking knocking.

so you twist the handle next, and it’s unlocked. of course.

it opens to a hazey front hallway that you recognize, stairs to the left hand side, blocked off by a young-looking guy you assume is probably a freshman on duty.

the front area is full of people, pressed against the walls, chatting over the music. well, more like yelling over it.

you can smell weed, which confuses you slightly. you know none of them smoke, not during the season at least. they usually don’t let anyone do it inside the house, so it must be an allowance for a girl.

you’re already getting strange looks as you step inside, which is fair. your shorts are hidden by the length of your shirt and jacket, so you’re just legs and shoes. you’ve got no makeup on, and you didn’t check your hair before you came.

but you swallow the lump in your throat, because it doesn’t matter right now anyways.

you shift your way through the crowd, gaze skipping over the people as you finally reach the dark living room. multi-colored strobes flash, lighting up the hoards of tipsy college kids dancing on the soaked wooden floor. furniture is pushed aside to make room, though the championship banner from last year still hangs on the wall.

his eyes find you before yours find him.

he stares at you across the tops of people's heads, standing by one of the couches that’s shoved against the wall. one of his roommates, connor, is leaned back on the cushions, watching the two girls they were talking to pass a joint back and forth.

but he’s no longer focused on anyone else, because he’s spotted you across the room, and he thinks this is the most disheveled he’s ever seen you. your angry eyes lock in on him seconds later, and they narrow instantly.

you beeline toward him, right through a group of people that are half-dancing along to the terrible playlist.

he lifts his eyebrows at your attitude, but not in fear. he’s actually a little impressed. his friends are watching you warily, just as confused as everyone else who saw you walk in.

he can’t help but stare at your legs as you finally reach him, admiring how cute you look in your pajamas, pale pink bottoms peeking out underneath your shirt with every step. he briefly wonders if you’re even wearing a bra.

then you open your mouth, and the fantasy is over.

“what time is it, chris?” you snap at him, one hand balled into a fist, the other clutching your phone.

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” he takes a sip of his drink to try and hide his grin.

it takes a lot of self control to keep yourself from slapping it out of his fucking hand, just because of how smug he looks. you hold up the screen to his face.

two twenty-two in the morning. chris almost laughs.

“the answer is way too fucking late to be having a party on a wednesday.” you reply, bringing the device back down to rest by your thigh.

“why didn’t you come? i missed you.” he pouts.

you glance over at the people on the couch, at the girls who are still making eyes at you as they converse with connor. he’s giving you a weird look too, as if no one could possibly understand why you’re here like this.

“yeah, sure you did,” you turn back to him, “now shut this shit down before i call the cops.”

chris puts his hands up in surrender, though he knows this is an empty threat just as much as you do.

“wow, somebody’s grumpy.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. “i’m serious. tell the puck bunnies to go home for the night or i’ll do it myself.”

he takes a tiny step closer, just a few inches, and yet it still seems suffocating. he looks too good, clad in a simple black tee and jeans, and he’s studying your face with the fire of a thousand suns.

“you don’t have to be jealous because other girls are here. you know you’re my number one.” chris replies easily.

even though his tone remains light, his expression is serious now. it enrages you more, that he thinks he has so much control over you.

“as if i give a fuck. i just want to sleep, so the choice is yours. police,” you wave the hand that holds your phone slightly, “or call it off.”

chris takes another sip of his drink, tipping it back so he can finish the rest of it in one foul swoop. then he nods his head, like he’s admitting defeat.

“fine. i’ll send everyone home.”

you can feel the relief creeping over you, knowing that you don’t have to actually get law enforcement involved. “thank yo—”

“on one condition.” he interrupts, and you furrow your brows.

“no conditions, chris. we’re not bartering right now.”

“come to the game on friday and we can hang out after for a bit. i’ll even give you a practice jersey to wear.” he offers, and the trademark smirk has reappeared on his face.

lights dance across his features, morphing his expression every few seconds. you just stare, because for once, you’re actually not sure what game he’s playing.

“what, can’t get a date without having to resort to blackmail?” you taunt, and he laughs.

“please, i don’t date. and i’d hardly consider this blackmail. just think of it as getting to know your friendly neighbor on a more personal level.”

there’s a humorous glint in his eye, one that’s daring you to say yes. what’s there to be afraid of? all you have to do is watch hockey, eat some popcorn from the concession stand, and deal with his attitude for an hour afterwards.

you’re still not sure what chris is getting out of this, or why he’s insisting that you need to be there, but at this point you don’t care. all you can think about is salvaging the rest of your sleep.

“alright, fine. now you have five minutes to get everyone out, and i better not hear any more shitty remixes for the rest of the week.” you point an accusatory finger at him and he shrugs, though he’s clearly content that you caved in.

“your wish is my command, princess.”

you turn on your heel to head back outside, retracing your steps from earlier as you slip through the mob. you half expect chris to follow, just because he’s annoying, but he doesn’t.

the overhead lights are coming back on now, and you can hear deep voices shouting, combined with collective groans from the crowd as they all realize they’re being kicked out.

luckily you make it out the front door first, and you jog back up the steps to your own place to get out of the cold.

you’ve only been inside for seconds when your phone buzzes in your hand.

chris

see you friday

sweet dreams ;)

[thatchickwiththecamera]

Ghost | Noah Sebastian One Shot

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Y/N had always loved playing video games. She got settled into her gaming chair and readjusted the round glasses perched on her nose before tossed her hair up into a messy bun. She opened Steam on her computer and got the game she downloaded ready.

Her room was organized chaos. Her bed was unmade in the background in front of walls lined with framed vinyls of her favorite bands and a ‘Bad Omens’ flag covered her window as a makeshift curtain. 

An empty Starbucks cup sat next to her Stanley water bottle on her desk from her writing session that morning.

She was an author by trade, with one of her more recent books sneaking its way onto the New York Times Best Sellers list. So streaming gave her an outlet to connect with fans of the book who were eagerly waiting to see what she published next. But she also enjoyed the thrill of gaming. 

So every Wednesday and Friday night, she’d set up her Twitch stream, ready to chat with her followers while she worked on her newest story on her computer or let them watch as she tried to conquer a new game. 

Tonight was Friday night, which meant Game Night! She adjusted her headset and looked into the camera with a grin. 

"Hey, guys! Welcome back! Since we finished Hollow Souls in the last game night stream, we’re starting a new one requested in the Patreon called Nervous System. I downloaded it earlier today and I can’t wait to get started. So, grab your snacks and get comfy!” 

As the game loaded, Y/N glanced at the chat window. The usual usernames flashed by, but one stood out: TwitchGhost. 

“Hey, Ghost! Is this one of the games you’ve played or is this a new one?” She asked, her tone playful.

TwitchGhost: This one is new to me.

Ghost had popped up in one of her streams a few months ago when she was playing through the new Call of Duty storyline and had since become a regular viewer. She began to look forward to his comments almost as much as she looked forward to playing. 

Week after week her chat box was filled with Ghost’s banter and witty interactions with her and her other followers. He even started to watch her regular streams where she would chat with fans and answer questions while working on the draft of her next book.

As the game loaded and the eerie music of Nervous System filled the room, Y/N noticed Ghost’s usual cheeky messages lighting up the chat.

TwitchGhost: I’m ready for some jumpscares!

Y/N chuckled and adjusted her headset. “Yeah, I heard this game is supposed to be pretty intense. I’m excited to see how we’ll do.”

She clicked to start a new game, and the screen transitioned to a dimly lit hallway with flickering lights. The graphics were stunningly detailed, adding an extra layer of immersion. Y/N began exploring, moving through the unsettling environment and commenting on the game’s eerie atmosphere.

The chat was buzzing with excitement as the game’s tension built. Her followers were actively engaging, offering their own tips and sharing their favorite horror games. Ghost’s messages stood out, though. His comments were always well-timed, blending humor with insightful observations about the game.

TwitchGhost: I love how the game is making the mundane so creepy. The lights and music are driving me insane.

Y/N grinned, glancing over at the chat. “I know, right? It’s amazing how a simple light can make everything feel so unsettling. You’re going to help me out if I get stuck, right?”

TwitchGhost: Absolutely! I’ve got your back. Just don’t let the creepy noises get to you.

The game took a sudden turn as a loud crash echoed through the virtual hallway, making Y/N jump slightly. 

“Fucking Hell!” She yelled. 

She laughed nervously and played along with the chat’s reactions. 

“I’m definitely going to need that backup. This game is already getting under my skin.”

TwitchGhost: If you need someone to hold your hand during the scary parts, I’m only a message away.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her grin widening. 

“Oh, is that so? I’ll have to keep that in mind.” 

The chat exploded with playful and teasing comments from other viewers reacting to their playful flirting. Y/N continued navigating through the game, her focus occasionally shifting to Ghost’s messages.

As she progressed through the game, Y/N found herself getting more engrossed at one point in the gameplay, her tongue peaking out of the side of her mouth in concentration. 

A short but loud alarm suddenly sounded causing her to jump and clutch at her chest. 

A message stating TwitchGhost played KEM Alarm for 0 bits popped up on the screen. 

It was one of the sound bits that she had added to the list when she was still playing COD and had never gotten around to removing it. 

“Fuck you Ghost!” She yelled after pausing the game to calm her racing heartbeat. 

TwitchGhost: 👀😏😈

“Behave.” She said, shaking her head with a smile. 

TwitchGhost: JK. 😉

TwitchGhost: You are doing pretty well with the jumpscares though. They’re my least favorite part of these games. 

Y/N’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. She replied with a playful tone, “Well, thank you! I’d say you’re pretty good at keeping the chat entertained too. Maybe we make a pretty good team?”

TwitchGhost: I like the sound of that. Maybe we should test that theory sometime—on or off stream.

With that the chat went wild with one user even commenting, “I ship it!” 

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion and her smile grew wider as she continued to play the game.

She took a deep breath and responded, “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you? I’ll have to consider it. For now, I need to survive this game.”

Just as they were about to uncover a major plot twist in the game, Ghost dropped a message that stood out from his usual playful banter.

TwitchGhost: Have you ever thought about adding a horror element to one of your books? You seem to handle the scares pretty well!

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she read the message. She paused the game and looked directly into the camera. 

“You know, I haven’t really thought about that. But that’s a really good idea. Maybe mixing some horror elements into a future story could be really interesting. Thanks for the suggestion!”

The chat exploded with excitement, many viewers expressing their enthusiasm for the idea. Y/N smiled, feeling inspired by the unexpected suggestion. She turned her attention back to the game, ready to dive into the next part of the story with renewed energy.

TwitchGhost: Anytime. Looking forward to reading it. 

Another notication popped up - TwitchGhost sent you a friend request

She paused for a moment before eventually hitting the accept button.

Suddenly a direct message box opened.

TwitchGhost: Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to help you brainstorm over a cup of coffee sometime?

Y/N’s heart raced at the thought. She gave a teasing smile to the camera before typing:

Y/NUserName: Maybe. 

The rest of the stream flew by in a blur with Y/N accomplishing the first five objective missions before deciding to call it a night. The stream had left her both exhilarated and exhausted. She closed the game and thanked her viewers for joining her.

“Thanks so much for hanging out tonight! You guys made this game night unforgettable. And Ghost, your suggestion about incorporating horror into my writing might just spark my next big idea. I’ll keep you posted on how it goes!”

She glanced at the chat one last time and saw Ghost’s final message.

TwitchGhost: Looking forward to it. Until next time.

With a contented sigh, Y/N closed her laptop and started to tidy up her desk. 

A few weeks passed and Ghost had been noticeably absent from the chat. 

Another Wednesday had rolled around and Y/N had finished up a full day of meetings with her management and publisher about the press tour for her next book, Michael. It was the first in her new Fallen Angels series and was due to be released at the end of the summer. 

It was completely different from her first book, Ace of Spades. Michael, was titled after the Archangel Michael and was more fantasy based while Ace of Spades was a gritty underground crime romance novel. 

She logged into twitch and the “Stream Starting Soon” graphic appears on the screen going live to her followers. She pulls up her manuscript for the new book she was starting, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the screen. Depending on how busy the chat was tonight she had planned on working on it. When she was ready she switched to the live view. 

“Hey, everyone! Welcome back to the stream. Tonight, we’re swapping out the gaming for some writing and a little Q and A session. I’m diving into outlining a new story and also wanted to let you know a little more about my next release and the series it will be a part of.” She stated.

The chat blew up with excitement and questions about the new series. 

“Okay, the next book is titled Michael and it will be the first in a seven book series called The Fallen Angel series. It will be a fantasy series of sorts and each of the books will be named after one of the seven archangels.” She excitedly answered. “I just finalized plans for the release with my team today and I am happy to announce that it is due to come out at the end of August.” 

She watched as a steady stream of happy and excited replies popped into the chat box on the edge of the screen at the news. 

She let the users chat with each other about the announcement for a bit and started working on the outline of her next story Nightmares. Which popped into her head not long after the stream where Ghost suggested she incorporate horror into one of her books.

She glanced over to take a peek at the chat and noticed someone had used 500 channel points to highlight their message. 

“Oh, that's a good question. Trickster24 asked what was my inspiration for Carter in Ace of Spades was.” She said, before adjusting her headset and looking directly into the camera. 

“So, Carter was inspired by a mix of classic noir heroes and a bit of real-life charm. I took some cues from those figures you would see in old detective films. But there’s also a touch of some famous personas in there as well in an overall aesthetic sense. It really helped shape Carter into a more nuanced character.” 

The chat continued to buzz with interest with viewers dropping comments about who they pictured as Carter when they read the book. 

GoldenGoddess45: Who did you envision as Carter when you were writing the book?

“So…when writing Ace of Spades, I honestly envisioned Carter as someone who looks similar to the lead vocalist of one of my favorite rock bands called Bad Omens.” She began, “If you guys aren’t familiar with them you should definitely check them out.” 

The chat fills with more questions, but her attention is drawn to a familiar username. 

TwitchGhost: Carter sounds like someone I’d love to have a coffee with. How about you? Do you think Carter would enjoy a coffee date?

The comment makes her laugh. 

“Welcome back Ghost! I’ve missed seeing your name in the chat,” She started, “I could definitely see Carter frequenting a little dimly lit cafe. And knowing him, he’d definitely be the type to keep the conversation interesting. What about you, Ghost? Are you as mysterious as Carter?”

TwitchGhost: I like to think I have a few secrets up my sleeve. 😉

She grins at the response and how the chat proceeded to blow up at the continuation of their flirty banter. She almost struggles to keep up with the steady stream of questions and responses flowing into the chat.

After a while one pops up about the outline for the new story that she mentioned. 

“Oh yeah, I’ll give you guys a little hint about what I’m working on. I got some inspiration from one of Ghost’s comments actually during a previous stream. I’m not going to announce the title just yet, but I will say it will be more of a horror based dark romance story compared to my other works. I'm in the very early outlining stages though so I am looking forward to seeing where it goes.” 

TwitchGhost: Glad you liked the idea! I’ll be first in line to read it. 😉

Y/N felt a flutter of excitement at Ghost’s message, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. She glanced at the clock. Her stream had been going for close to two hours, and she still had a lot of work to do on her outline.

“Alright, everyone, I think we’re going to start wrapping things up soon. But before we go, I want to thank you all for your awesome questions. I love how engaged and creative this community is. It really makes this whole process so much fun!”

The chat exploded with thank-yous and goodbyes as her viewers began to sign off. She glanced back at Ghost’s messages, his usual witty banter making her smile.

A new direct message pops up.

TwitchGhost: Sorry for missing so many streams. I hope you’ve been keeping things interesting without me. 😉

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the message. She typed back, trying to match his flirtatious tone. 

Y/NUserName: Oh, you know I always keep things lively. But it’s been a bit dull without your witty comments. How have you been?

TwitchGhost: Busy, had to travel for work and time zones got in the way of tuning in. You’ve been on my mind more than I’d like to admit. 😏

She felt a rush of warmth at his words. 

Y/NUserName: Well, aren’t you a charmer? I’ve missed our little banter. It definitely adds a spark to the stream.

TwitchGhost: Just doing my part to keep things exciting. Speaking of which, I’ve been dying to know—how’s the new book coming along?

Y/N’s smile widened, feeling a thrill at his compliment.

Y/NUserName: The new book is shaping up nicely, thanks for asking. I might even incorporate a bit of the intrigue you bring to our chats into it.

TwitchGhost: I’m flattered. Can’t wait to see how you bring a touch of me into your work. Maybe you’ll make a character who’s just as irresistible as you. 😉

Y/N’s cheeks flushed at his flirty remark. 

Y/NUserName: Well, if I do, I’ll have to make sure they have your charm. I think that’s a winning formula.

TwitchGhost: I’m all for it. And who knows? Maybe your characters will end up stealing more than just my heart.

Y/N’s heart raced at his bold comment. 

Y/NUserName: You’re quite the tease, Ghost. I’ll have to keep that in mind while I’m writing. For now, though, I’m glad you’re back. It wouldn’t be the same without you.

TwitchGhost: Glad to be back. I’ve missed our little moments. I’ll try not to stay away too long next time. 😉

Y/N responded with a flirtatious grin. 

Y/NUserName: I’ll hold you to that. 

She leaned back in her chair and stretched, feeling a mix of relief and exhilaration. She turned off her computer and added a few ideas inspired by their playful exchange to her outline. 

As she wrote, she couldn’t stop thinking about the chemistry she felt with Ghost. She had no clue who he was, but he had quickly become one of her favorite parts of streaming, and the thought of possibly meeting him one day was both thrilling and intriguing.

She quickly finished up her notes and decided to call it a night. As she settled into bed, her phone buzzed. She picked it up to find another message from Ghost.

TwitchGhost: Can’t wait to see where this story leads. Sweet dreams, Y/N. 😘

Y/N smiled and quickly typed back, her fingers dancing over the screen.

Y/NUserName: Goodnight, Ghost. 

She set her phone down, turned off the bedside lamp, and snuggled under the covers. As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts swirled with the possibilities that awaited both in her writing and her streaming.

A few weeks later, Y/N received an unexpected surprise. Bad Omens had announced their next tour and her manager, Andy, had secured a spot for them both on the guest list for the date in the city a couple hours from her hometown. She not only got to see her favorite band live, but she would get the chance to meet them after the show. 

She excitedly announced the news to her followers on the next stream.

“Hey everyone!” Y/N’s excitement was palpable as she spoke into the camera. “I’ve got some super exciting news to share! I don’t know what my manager did, but I’m going to see Bad Omens next month! Not only that, but I’ll also get to meet them after the show. I’m over the freakin moon right now!”

The chat exploded with enthusiasm, her followers sharing in her excitement and asking if she would be able to get any exclusive behind-the-scenes content. Y/N promised to do her best to share the experience and make everyone feel like they were part of it.

As Y/N wrapped up her stream, she noticed a new direct message notification from Ghost. Her heart raced with anticipation as she opened it.

TwitchGhost: Bad Omens, huh? That’s incredible! I’m jealous. Have you ever met them before?

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her excitement bubbling up again.

Y/NUserName: I’ve never met them before. This will be my first time! I’m so excited I can barely contain myself.

TwitchGhost: I bet you’re going to have an amazing time. I’m curious, though—what would you say to them if you had the chance?

Y/N’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed her reply, her thoughts racing with the possibility of meeting the band.

Y/NUserName: I’d probably gush about how much their music has meant to me. And if I were feeling brave, I might even mention that I have a crush on their lead singer. 😉

TwitchGhost: Haha, that’s a bold move! I’m sure they’d appreciate hearing how much their music means to you. That lead singer would be a lucky guy. 😉

Y/N felt a flush of warmth at Ghost’s words, her thoughts wandering to the idea of meeting the mysterious person behind the messages that had become such a cherished part of her life.

Y/NUserName: Well it probably wouldn’t work out anyway. I kinda already have someone else who’s been keeping me on my toes. 

TwitchGhost: Oh? Celebrity crush has some competition then? Anyone I know? 😏

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his playful inquiry.

Y/NUserName: Maybe…

Y/NUserName: I need to get back to writing now. But I’ll let you know how everything goes. 

TwitchGhost: Can’t wait to hear all about it. Good luck with the writing, and remember, if you need any more inspiration, you know where to find me. 😉

Y/NUserName: Thanks, Ghost. I’ll keep that in mind. Talk to you soon!

TwitchGhost: Goodnight, Y/N!

Y/N closed her laptop and set her phone aside, her mind buzzing with excitement about the upcoming concert and the prospect of meeting her favorite band.

As the next few weeks passed, Y/N eagerly counted down the days until the show. She had tried to busy herself with writing Nightmares and unfortunately had to deal with finalizing all of the not so fun logistics of her upcoming book release, but the thought of seeing her favorite band live kept her spirits high.

The night of the concert finally arrived and the excitement was palpable as Y/N and Andy arrived at the venue. They received their passes from the ticket window and were guided inside by a staff member. As they grabbed a spot at the barricade, Y/N was recognized by a few of the fans who were already inside as part of their VIP pass access. She spent the next hour chatting with a few of them about the band and telling them what she could about her new books. 

The lights dimmed and the crowd's anticipation grew palpable as the guitarist, Jolly, walked on stage and the opening notes of Artificial Suicide began to reverberate through the venue. Y/N’s excitement was almost tangible, her eyes glued to the stage as the band’s electrifying performance unfolded. Her and Andy both sang along to each and every verse at the top of their lungs. The music was everything she had hoped for and more. 

As the last few notes of Dethrone echoed across the room an hour and a half later and the final bows were completed, they let the crowd disperse a little before they navigated their way to the side of the barricade. They showed their passes to Ash, the band’s head of security, before he allowed them backstage with a friendly smile. 

The adrenaline from the concert was still coursing through Y/N’s veins as they eventually met with the band’s tour manager, Matt, who introduced himself. 

“The guys are cooling off and getting changed really quick. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you ladies outside to where they’ll be hanging out while we tear down and finish up loadout.” He said leading them to a makeshift sitting area the band had put together outside their bus earlier in the day. 

After a few minutes the band members slowly but surely made their way outside, each introducing themself as they found a seat and fell into easy conversation with the two of them. 

The lead singer, Noah, was the last to emerge. He wore an oversized merch hoodie, a pair of joggers, and slides. Despite being comfortably dressed, his striking presence was undeniable.

“Hi, I’m Y/N?” She introduced herself, holding out her hand. 

Noah’s smile broadened as he stepped closer and took her hand in his.

“Oh, he knows who you are…” Jolly teased from where he sat at one of the picnic tables. 

She turned to look at him before looking back at Noah with a confused look. 

The tall man chuckled in response, before rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

“Eh, well, I had to make sure my favorite author enjoyed seeing her favorite band. And, I couldn’t miss the chance to meet the person behind the screen. I mean I am still holding out hope for that coffee date…”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in his presence, a mix of shock and delight washing over her. 

“You’re Ghost?!” 

“Guilty as charged,” Noah said with a wink. “I guess I managed to keep my two worlds separate for a while. But I couldn't resist. I wanted to see you. actually, I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush as she took in his words. “Well, you definitely pulled off an incredible surprise. I never would have guessed.”

Noah’s gaze softened as he took a step closer. “I wanted to see if you’d react the way you just did. And I’m glad I did.”

They continued to chat, and Y/N found herself falling deeper into conversation with Noah. It felt surprisingly natural, almost like she had known him for a while. They talked about music, books, and even the quirky things that had happened during her streams.

As their conversation flowed effortlessly, Y/N noticed how Noah’s eyes seemed to sparkle with genuine interest. It was as if he was completely absorbed in the discussion, and she felt a magnetic connection.

Eventually, the band’s crew finished loading out and a few of them started to talk about wanting to go out before the bus call at 2am. 

“Hey, do you have any plans after this?”

Y/N shook her head. 

“Not really. Why?”

Noah’s smile widened. 

“Well, if you’re up for it, I’d love to maybe take you out for that coffee. There’s a café nearby that’s open late.”

Y/N’s heart raced. She glanced around and Andy gave her a knowing look, mouthing “GO!”. 

Her eyes met Noah’s, and she could see the sincerity in his expression.

“I’d like that,” she replied softly.

They walked together to the café, and as they settled into a corner table, the conversation continued seamlessly. They talked about everything from their childhood memories to their dreams and even their fears. The more they talked, the more Y/N felt an undeniable connection.

As the night wore on, Noah’s gaze lingered on Y/N with an intensity that made her heart flutter. Their laughter and shared stories created an intimate atmosphere.

On the walk back to the venue, Noah paused and reached out, taking Y/N’s hand gently into his. 

“I have to admit, I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.” 

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She looked into Noah’s eyes, her feelings mirrored in his gaze. 

“I feel the same way.”

“I’d really like to keep getting to know you and see where all this goes, if that's okay with you?” He questioned, stepping closer. 

“I’d like that.” She answered, glancing up at him. 

He smiled down at her, his eyes briefly drifting toward her lips and back. 

Slowly, Noah stepped even closer and he cupped Y/N’s face in his hand, his touch sending a warm shiver through her. 

He leaned forward and their lips met in an electrifying kiss. It was gentle at first, but as the moment deepened, their kiss became more passionate. The connection they felt was palpable, and it seemed to solidify everything they had shared that night.

When they finally pulled away, their faces were flushed, and they both wore wide, contented smiles.

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” Noah said softly, his thumb brushing lightly over Y/N’s hand.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, her heart full. “This has been one of the best nights of my life.”

As they walked side by side, Y/N couldn’t help but think about how surreal and wonderful this evening had been. Not only had she met her favorite band, but she had also found her Ghost. 

With an exchange of phone numbers and the promise of staying in touch they went their separate ways. But not before Noah leaned in for one last, lingering kiss, making Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

The night had turned into something extraordinary. An unexpected but perfect blend of their separate worlds colliding into something beautiful. 

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 9

a/n: So excited to get this one out to you guys! I hope you enjoy it 😁Thank you again to @cloverstayy for the beautiful graphic 🩵 she's amazing and is on insta & tiktok under the same name.

edit 1/22/24 - I have changed a few things around, this was previously chapter 7, but will now be chapter 9. Stay with me people!

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’. You're one of the four girls chosen and find that your duties for the rest of the school year will be cooking, cleaning, and pleasing your assigned house members: Hyunjin & Bang Chan.

Chapter Nine: Of Halloween and Hallways

It’s now approaching the end of your first month at the SKZ house. Hyunjin still has not pressured you to move further, but you have continued to explore each others bodies more. Whenever you’re with him, kissing and cuddling in bed, you both allow your hands to roam freely across each other. He’s made it clear that you have control of the reins with him. You enjoy the power—getting both yourself and Hyunjin worked up, kissing, touching, fondling, just to back off. Maybe Chan’s sadism is rubbing off on you a bit. 

Speaking of Chan, your nights with him since offering your submission are always like rolling a 20 sided die. You might be teased, you might get fucked, he might be sweet, but more often he’s rough. He does seem to make some kind of effort to not come off as a dick, however there is definitely still a wall between you two. You feel more comfortable conversing with him, though it’s usually just small talk and nothing remotely deep. 

Lee Know’s birthday passes on Wednesday, October 25th and everyone celebrates with dinner, drinks and dessert. You and Allie helped Felix bake him a chocolate cake (they wouldn’t let you add arsenic, which was a bummer).

It’s now Saturday, October 28th—the day of the Halloween party. The morning of is spent with everyone moving throughout the house making sure their appointed tasks are complete. As evening approaches, your excitement for the event grows—everyone has kept their final costume reveals a secret and you can’t wait to see what they have all come up with. 

Your main goal is to have a good time and possibly, finally have sex with Hyunjin. But, oh, sweet girl, you have no clue what the night has in store for you. 

6:00pm

All of the decorations and finishing touches have been put in place. There are spiderwebs and bats strewn across the ceiling in the living room, a couple skeletons are seated at the dining room table that’s surrounded by floating candles, severed hands and feet rest on surfaces throughout the home, spiders of various sizes adorn the walls, and there’s even an animatronic Pennywise in the in the guest bathroom guaranteed to scare people shitless, but, hopefully not literally as that will just be a nightmare to clean. 

6:30pm

The kegs arrive and are carted off to the basement and backyard. You’re setting up the snack table, putting out the orange and black paper cups, plates, and napkins when you hear a commotion coming down the stairs. 

“This is stupid,” the familiar voice of Lee Know grumbles and you immediately smile.

“I can’t believe I’m wearing a dress,” says Changbin.

Two weeks ago you challenged Changbin and Lee Know in beer pong—winner got to choose the others Halloween costume. You had Hyunjin on your team and came out victorious.

“I don’t look that bad,” comes the voice of Seungmin. 

Seungmin you challenged in a game of pool, same stakes. You’re shit at it, but he sank the 8 ball early and thus, you had all of them right where you wanted.

You turn around to face the stairs as they finish making their way down and bring your hand to your mouth to cover your laugh. They really committed…and their assignees had obviously helped put their looks together, from the makeup to the faux cleavage.

“The Sanderson sisters have come to SKZ house,” Han announces, pointing and laughing at the trio.

Changbin is dressed as Mary—eyebrows drawn on pencil thin, lips crooked and painted red, with a black wig shaped like a witch’s hat. Seungmin is Sarah—thick, dark eyebrows and eye makeup and a long, blonde wig. And the beautiful Lee Know is Winifred—copious amounts of blush on his cheeks, red lipstick only on the middle part of his lips, red wig and, of course, the look wouldn’t be complete without the trademark buck teeth. 

“BoooOOOOOoook,” he wails as he enters the living room and everyone fucking loses it. 

7:00pm 

You finally have a chance to shower and get changed into your costume. It took you a while to decide on what you would be, but Hyunjin suggested an idea to play off what Chan is going as and you went along with it. 

With your dress, corset, fishnets, calf-high combat boots in place and make up complete, you make your way back downstairs. The regular lights have all been turned off so the house has a darker feel to it, but there are various purple, red, and orange lights throughout to compliment the decorations and mood. 

Hyunjin is sitting on the couch and offers you a look of appreciation when he sees you. You can only giggle at his costume. He’s half-assed it, for sure, but he still looks adorable. He’s wearing his regular clothing and has a headband on with pink ears, a pink bow tie, and a pink pigs nose covering his own. He turns around to show you the squiggly tail hanging near his butt. 

“Cute,” you tell him. 

“You look way better,” he says, pulling you close and lifting his pig nose to kiss you on the lips. 

You look around the living room and survey everyone’s costumes. Han is dressed as Jack Sparrow, Felix looks like a man being taken by an inflatable alien and Allie is dressed as an agent from ‘Men In Black’. Jeongin is Woody from Toy Story and Charlotte is Jesse, they’re adorable. Rhiannon has decided to play along with Seungmin and Changbin as the Sanderson sisters and dressed as Binx, wearing all black with cat ears and whiskers, she even popped in some yellow cat eye contacts. 

You don’t see Chan though and you’ve been dying to know what he’s put together. You excuse yourself from the room and check for him in the kitchen, but he’s not there either so you make your way to the basement. 

It’s dark there as well, but lights have been added to each step to prevent anyone from falling. The lighting in the room is purple and a projector casts various Halloween themed images against the walls in slow, spinning rotation. 

Chan and Changbin have their back to you as they struggle to get the dry ice machine working. 

“Need any help?” You ask, and they turn to look at you over their shoulder. 

Changbin’s eyebrows raise at the sight of you, followed by a nod and thumbs up thrown in your direction before he turns his attention back to the machine. 

Chan turns around to face you, smirking as he takes in your costume. The first thing you notice on him is the amount of skin showing on his upper body and the slash-like wounds that have been added to it. You look from his bare navel up to his eyes and arch an eyebrow. It’s definitely not what you had expected but holy fuck does the sight of him make you want to let him do despicable things to you.

In his ears he has one silver stud earring and the the other is shaped like a fang. On his upper half he’s wearing a furry, grey vest that has a hood with a realistic wolf’s head attached to it. On his lower half he has on a pair of black boots and low hanging, ripped black jeans with black Supreme boxers peeking above the top. His hands are covered in grey, furry gloves with nothing but his finger tips out. 

“Little red, eh?” He asks, looking you up and down. 

Your costume consists of a dress that is white at the top (frilly and off the shoulders) then turns red near your hips accompanied by a black bustier that’s squeezing your insides together and pushing up your breasts. A red cloak is also draped around your shoulders, tied in a delicate bow across your clavicle. The fishnets and combat boots add a sexy, grungy feel to the look.

You pinch the sides of your dress between your thumb and forefinger, extend your right foot back and curtsy.

9:30pm

You hate to admit that Seungmin was right. Actually, you would never admit that. However, telling people the party began at 7:30 ensured they actually started showing up around 8:30. Everyone is now scattered throughout the first floor, basement and backyard.

You start the night off with a shot to calm your nerves from being in the house full of so many people. You also can’t help but feel like a hostess, wanting to make sure the snacks and drinks are never empty. You make sure the best costume voting station has pens and paper. You refill bowls of chips. Changbin follows behind you as you refill the drink dispensers to slip more alcohol into it. You eye him carefully and shoo him away from the one dispenser clearly labeled as non-alcoholic. Not everybody wants to get shitfaced tonight. 

When you’re not playing hostess, you float around from room to room. With all the housemates here, you always have someone to wander off and talk to, which is comforting. You spend some time cheering Lee Know and Allie on as they reign over the beer pong table. You listen as Jeongin engages in a conversation with a group of girls, talking about needing models for an upcoming project. He has his arm wrapped around Charlotte’s waist as he addresses them, and she looks so out of her element, but leans onto him for support.

As far as you’ve seen, the boys really live up to the rule about not sleeping with anyone else outside of the house. Jeongin could probably pull any one of those girls in that circle, but he’s making it clear he has someone and is not interested. 

Felix really did put himself in charge of the music and made a master playlist that’s blaring throughout the main floor. You spend some time with him in the living room, watching the people mingle and dance. Later you join Seungmin and Rhiannon in the backyard, sitting around the fire pit with a couple of others.

11:30pm

The house is fucking packed. With the music so loud, people’s conversations sound more like shouting matches. You take another shot with Hyunjin and snack on some of the Halloween-themed food that was catered. There are several giant, soft pretzels shaped like spiders, stuffed peppers that look like Jack-O-Lanterns, witch hat shaped calzones, white chocolate covered strawberries that look like ghosts, cheese wrapped with prosciutto and a green olive in the center to make it look like an eyeball. You’re delighted with the selections you and the girls made. 

Eventually, you duck off from a conversation with Han (who, after two drinks is taking his role as Jack Sparrow a little too seriously), to head to the bathroom on the second floor. You bypass the yellow caution tape blocking upstairs to let everyone know it’s off limits, and head up. It’s dark and the lighting has been changed to red, making it feel extremely eerie. 

Once in the bathroom, you quickly relieve your bladder and wash your hands. When you’re done, you stay inside for a bit longer than necessary, just needing a moment of silence. You can still hear the music bumping and people chattering, but it feels calmer in here. You lean against the counter, check your makeup and adjust your costume. The corset is tight around your chest—but it does look good. You bounce, tipsy enough to giggle at the sight of your boobs jiggling in the mirror. 

There’s a knock at the door that snatches the laugh right out of you. 

“Yes?” You call out, wondering who it could be. The girls would have walked right in, but no one else should be up here. 

There’s no response, so you open the door, ready to tell off whoever it is. 

“Second floor is off—“

The first thing you see is a wolf’s snout. 

“What are you doing?” You ask Chan, shutting the light off to the bathroom. You place a hand on his chest and force him backwards into the hallway.

You move to drop your hand from his chest, but his fur clad hand stops you, keeping it in place. 

“Just making sure nobody else was up here,” he shrugs. 

He places his other hand on your waist and pulls you to him. 

“Hmmm,” you hum, looking up at him skeptically. “Did you find anyone?”

“This costume,” he switches gears and releases your wrist, not allowing you time to call him on his bullshit. You can smell the alcohol on his breath, but he’s not drunk.

His eyes trail down to your cleavage. He brings a hand up to trace lines back and forth across the top of your breasts with his finger.

“So you did wanna play dress up with me?” 

Your eyes drop to his fingers touching you. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of saying yes.

“It was Hyunjin’s idea,” you reply.

“Oh?” He cocks his head to the side. “Those are two different wolves though—from the three pigs and little red.”

“And?” You counter.

His hand slides up from your breasts to your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. You are slowly growing accustom to the feel of this. You were shocked the first time he did it—there must have been an intense look of panic on your face because he eased up his grip and assured you he wouldn’t hurt you. It’s odd to think you trust him more sexually than in your everyday life, but he’s shown you enough when fucking you to let you know it’s all meant to be pleasurable in some way—sometimes for both of you, sometimes just for one of you. 

“You guys never clarified what wolf I am,” he says.

His hand drops from your neck to yank down the fabric and reveal one of your breasts. You look down the hall, a look of shock plastered to your face, but there’s no one in sight. He doesn’t seem like he would care, even if there was. When your eyes meet with his again, he’s staring right back at you. Daring you to protest.

He pushes the wolf head off and it falls to his back. His dark, curly hair is stuck to his forehead after having it on for so long. You lean back instinctively as he lowers his head to take your nipple in his mouth and let out a surprised gasp. 

“Chan,” you say, gripping his bare waist. 

He swirls his tongue around your nipple and bites it, eliciting another gasp from you. He releases your nipple and stands up straight, cupping your breast as he makes a declaration you’ll never forget.

“I wanna be Red’s wolf.”

No smirk, no smile…it doesn’t feel like he’s joking or teasing you. Does he mean it?

Your hand shoots up to his neck lightning fast, pulling him down and crashing your lips to his. He spins you both around so your back is now against the wall as he kisses you. You roll your body, pressing your hips against his as his tongue clashes with yours. 

He leans back for a moment, biting his furry glove with his hand to pull it off so his hand can feel you completely. When his lips are on yours again, his other hand takes hold of your neck once more, squeezing it as you slip your tongue in his mouth and he sucks it in further.

With his now glove free hand, he lowers it to rub at your fishnet covered thighs. His hand inches higher beneath the hem of the dress until it’s right between your legs. But then he freezes.

He breaks the kiss, still gripping your neck. His thumb rests on one side, pointer finger directly on your chin, and the other three are on the opposite side. He pushes your head up, pressing your head to the wall as you both catch your breath.

“Is shark week over yet?” He asks, cupping your pussy. 

You start to repeat the phrase back to him, but chuckle as the realization hits you. The last three days you had been with him you were nearing the end of ‘shark week’ as he just called it. He had kept his distance, for the most part, aside from an impromptu morning blowjob before he trotted off to class on Tuesday. 

“Yes,” you breathe in response. 

His thumb and pointer finger squeeze your jaw, lowering your head and allowing him to recapture your lips. He resumes moving his other hand, hooking two fingers between the fishnets and the side of your underwear. He sucks on your bottom lip as his fingers rub your pussy, feeling how wet you are. He groans into your mouth as his fingers circle between your lips.

“I wanna fuck you so bad, Red,” he says, breaking the kiss once again.

He withdraws his fingers and brings them up to his mouth, popping them right inside and sucking your juices off. You watch him through lustful eyes, loving how fond he is of your taste. He’s not even remotely communicative with you but in these small moments you share, you understand all you need.  

He pulls his other glove off and tosses it aside before dropping to his knees in front of you and bringing both hands to where the fishnets are at your crotch, poised to rip them apart. 

“Chan!” You yell, grabbing his wrists. “I’ve only gotten to wear this for three hours, the party isn’t even over yet.”

“So?” He says, breaking his wrists free of your hands with ease. 

“So, relax.” You say, taking hold of his wrists again. “And wait.”

He drops his hands and sits back on his heels, looking up at you. With only the red light illuminating the hallway, his gaze feels ravenous. Perhaps he does not like you telling him what to do. You second guess your word choice…maybe you should have added a please in there. You shift your weight from one foot to the other as his continued silence makes you anxious. 

When his hands move back to your thighs, you don’t even try to stop him this time. Resisting is futile. You always give in to the pleasure. They slide up beneath the hem of the dress again, but instead of ripping them, he respectfully finds the waistband of the fishnets. His eyes never leave yours as he hooks his finger inside them and slowly pulls them down, dragging your underwear with it. 

You bite your lip to keep from smiling. So maybe he disregarded the part about waiting, but he did at least grant your request to not rip them. He has a smug look on his face, seeing your reaction. You avert your gaze down the hall, wanting to check that the coast is clear but also wanting to keep him from seeing how much of an affect a small act of kindness from him makes you feel. 

The hallway is still empty. 

You look back to Chan and pull your dress up and out of the way. He uses one hand to keep the fishnets and underwear pulled down as the other guides your leg over his shoulder. And as soon as he leans forward, taking your pussy in his mouth, you know you wouldn’t fucking care if the entire party walked up here right now.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you roll your hips, pushing your pussy against his face so he can properly devour you. The music downstairs is muffled, but still mostly drowns out the sound of him slurping you up. He replaces his mouth with his fingers, playing in your wetness. He uses his thumb to rub circles around your clit as you grip his hair with your free hand. 

“Fuuuck,” he drawls, pressing his thumb against you harder, watching your hips move in response. He slips his fingers inside of you and swaps his thumb and mouth again. 

Your eyes snap open at his words and your hand forces his face against your pussy even more. You had already declared you belong to him the first time he fucked you. Hearing him say it, hearing him claim you drives you wild. 

His fingers pump in and out of you rapidly as his tongue licks up and down your pussy. You put your head back against the wall, moaning at all the feelings. His fingers inside of you, his mouth on you, being in the hallway where anyone could come up and see you. But most of all, being his. 

“Please, Chan,” you say, feeling so fucking turned on you think you might burst.

He detaches his mouth and stands up, causing your leg to fall from his shoulder, and reclaims your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips as his fingers keep thrusting into you. His other hand finds it way back to your neck, squeezing it harder than before. 

“Please what?” He asks, lips pressed against yours.

You keep your eyes on his as your hips fuck his fingers back, whimpering. You reach your hands between you, undoing the button on his jeans and pushing the zipper down. You slip a hand beneath the waistband of his boxers and grip his cock, feeling how hard he is.

“I need you,” you force out with his hand still around your neck and he grins. 

He knows how he makes you feel and he loves it. Seeing you desperate and needy, begging him to fuck you. 

Before he has a chance to, you see someone step onto the landing from the corner for your eye. The thought of being caught and the reality of it are two very different things. 

Chan reacts so quickly, turning to shield you, lowering his hand from you neck to pull your dress up and cover your breasts. You drop your dress and pull your fishnets and underwear back up. You peek over his shoulder to see who’s come up.

It’s Han. 

He sees you two, but he doesn’t say anything. He opens the door and walks into his room, but a moment later his head pops back out, adorned with his pirates hat and he throws a grin in your direction. You flip him the middle finger and he disappears fully into his room.

You press your head to Chan’s chest. Maybe he does care about people seeing you exposed and he just talks a big game. You don’t want to ask, though. He might just take it as a challenge. 

You lean your head back to look up at him and he chuckles, wrapping his hand around your back and pressing your hips against his. You can still feel the bulge of his cock.

“Let’s go back downstairs,” you say, taking a step away from him as you come back to your right state of mind. You need to clear your head—maybe get another drink, maybe get some fresh air. 

“Will you stay with me Sunday?” He asks suddenly, pulling his zipper back up.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to concede so easily, nor ask you to stay with him. You had yet to spend a Sunday with him. In all honestly, you didn’t think he cared much for you to be there. But maybe he’s only asking since he didn’t get to fuck you during the week and feels like he needs to make up for lost time or something. 

“Maybe,” you reply.

Sunday is your day. It would mean a lot, to you, for you to choose to stay with him. What would it mean to him? 

He buttons his pants as you pick up his discarded gloves from the ground and hold them out to him. 

“Maybe?” He repeats skeptically, eyeing you as he accepts the gloves with one hand. 

His other hand—the one that had been inside you—he brings to his lips and sucks his first three fingers into his mouth one by one. He’s silent as he puts the gloves back on, mulling over your answer. 

“Okay,” he finally says. 

“Okay?” You repeat him this time. 

The dark look in his eyes makes you feel as though it’s not okay.

“Sure,” his tone is now sickly sweet and you find it unnerving. “I’ll be back down in a sec.”

12:15am 

The keg in the basement has been tapped already. Changbin and Chan work to move the one from the backyard down there with the help of a few other guys. It looks like a disaster waiting to happen and you don’t want to watch. You spot one of your friends that you stayed with after the breakup hanging in the kitchen and talk with her for a bit. You let her know you’re fine and have found a place to stay—sparing the specifics, of course. 

1:00am 

All the housemates and a good majority of the guests crowd around the living room as Felix MC’s, to hand out best costume awards. Much to your chagrin, Changbin, Lee Know and Seungmin win best group. Some guy dressed as Elton John in his bedazzled LA Dodger outfit wins most like the original. A girl with a literal UFO floating above her head and lights streaming down wins most creative. Sexiest female goes to a girl dressed as a skimpy Mario. Sexiest male costume goes to none other than Chan—he celebrates by taking two shots back to back. You’re close enough to notice a small dribble that’s trickled down to his abdomen and you’re tempted to get on your knees and lick it off in front of everyone.

After the prizes—gift cards and alcohol—are handed out, the crowd disburses throughout the house. You stay in the living room with Hyunjin and Felix as Felix gets the music going again. 

Hyunjin wraps his arm around your waist, holding you to his side as Despacito plays. He’s smiling down at you with glossy eyes and you can tell he’s definitely had a couple cups of the Changbin-spiked punch.

“Dance with me,” he says.

“Hell no,” you spit back, shaking your head. “I’m not anywhere near drunk enough for that.”

“Well, drink up,” he says, moving your hand with the cup to your mouth. 

You take a large gulp but still shake your head again. He takes the cup from you and finishes it off, sitting it on the table next to Felix. You protest as he pulls you to the middle of the living room where others are dancing. You’re struck with a wave of embarrassment, covering your face as he dances around you. He moves freely and easily to the beat, tongue caught between his teeth with a smile. He stops behind you and puts his hands on your hips, moving you from side to side with him. 

He spins you in a circle, then brings you back against him, rocking his hips backwards and forwards to the music, guiding yours in sync with his, holding you firmly to him. You want to feel mortified, but you’re smiling and laughing. You’re enjoying yourself. As you always do with him. He wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling your back flush against his chest and kisses your neck.

“Y/n?” You hear your name called and as your eyes snap up to the person who said it your smile immediately drops.

Your ex. 

Hyunjin still has his arms around your shoulder, holding you against him, but he stops moving and looks up at your mood killer too. 

“Who’s that?” He asks.

“My ex,” you tell him. He straightens up, but doesn’t remove his arms from you. 

Your ex walks closer to you, not even glancing at Hyunjin behind you.

“Can we talk?” He asks. 

1:45am

You’re hesitant. You don’t walk to speak to him, not now when you’re having such a good time.  You also don’t want to cause a scene, though.

You tap Hyunjin’s arm around your shoulder and he releases you. You gesture for you ex to follow you and lead him through the kitchen to the backyard. There are people out here too, but it’s not as crowded. You fan yourself when you hit the fresh air—you hadn’t realized how hot it had gotten inside with all the people, combined with the alcohol and dancing. 

“What’s going on with you?” He asks in an accusatory manner. 

“Nothing?” You respond, not sure what he means. 

“I saw you a few weeks ago with one guy, now you’re dancing up on some other dude?”

“You keep asking these questions as if you’re entitled to answers,” you snap at him. “You wanted to break up with me. You wanted to see other people. You don’t get to say shit about what I do.” You step closer to him and jab your finger into his chest each time you say ‘you’. 

“Is this where you’re living now, then?”

You sigh, shaking your head. 

“Listen, I think closure would be good here…but this is not the way.”

“I told you I wasn’t looking for closure.”

You let out a wry laugh.

“I’m not going to sit around waiting for you, if that’s what you’re wanting. I’m single. I’ll do whatever and whomever I want.”

His jaw clenches as he glares at you. 

“And I have no intention of ever being with you again.” You add. “So, either leave me alone and enjoy yourself at the party or get the fuck out if that’s too hard for you to do.”

You throw your hands up at him and shake your head before opening the sliding glass door and walking back into the house. He follows you inside, grabbing you by the arm to stop you before you reach the living room. You turn to face him, snatching your arm back. 

“So you give me shit about wanting to see other people, but now you’re living in a house with these frat bros?” He arches an eyebrow.

You shrug. He becomes more annoyed at your response. 

“You’re fucking them aren’t you?” He spits, stepping closer to you, leaning down so you can hear him over the loud music. He grabs you by the arm again, dragging you to him.

You put a hand on his chest and struggle to push him away, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. You’re certain the music is still blaring, but it suddenly feels extremely quiet.

“You’re fucking all eight of these squinty-eyed motherfu—“

Your fist connecting with his jaw cuts him off. You don’t know what’s come over you to react in such a physical way, but you’d be damned if you let him finish that sentence. 

The next few moments happen in a blur.

He yanks you closer, seething, as he opens his mouth to say more disprectful shit. But someone wraps their arm around your waist and pulls you away from him and at the same time, someone else shoves your ex. Then Chan is standing between you and him, facing your ex. You can’t clearly hear what he’s saying over the music and the erratic beating of your heart, but they look to be exchanging some heated words. Your ex looks furious with Chan in his face, acting like the literal big, bad wolf. 

You look back to see who’s grabbed you—it’s Seungmin. He’s holding you close, but his eyes are locked on Chan, waiting to see if he needs to get involved. 

Hyunjin and Felix come into the dining room amidst the commotion. He walks behind your ex and places a hand on his shoulder. Your ex shoves his hand off, says one last remark to Chan then storms out of the room. Hyunjin follows behind him to make sure he leaves. Felix puts a hand on Chan’s chest to keep him from following. He forces Chan to look him in the eye to hear whatever he’s saying. 

Changbin storms in, coming from the basement a little too late, but still looking ready for a confrontation. All while dressed as Mary Sanderson. The sight sends you into an immediate fit of laughter. 

The partygoers go back to their own conversation as Changbin approaches you, Chan, Felix and Seungmin. 

“Why didn’t you ride your vacuum?” Seungmin says to him. “You would have gotten here sooner.”

“He’s lucky I was late,” he huffs. 

Chan turns away from Felix to face you and Seungmin releases you from his grasp.

“You okay?” Chan asks, softly. 

“I’m fine,” you tell him, wiping at a stray tear as you regain your composure.  

Chan lifts your chin up with a finger so you’re looking him in the eyes, possibly wanting to make sure the tears are from laughing. 

You nod your head, reassuring him. 

“Nice job, slugger,” Seungmin says, ruffling the top of your hair. You swat him away and wince as your hand comes in contact with his arm. He laughs at your pain. “I’ll get some ice.”

He disappears behind you towards the fridge. 

Chan gently takes your hand in his and brings it up for inspection as you weakly wiggle your fingers. 

“Can you make a fist?”

You squeeze your hand together the best you can but it becomes painful before you can make a complete fist. 

You hear Chan take a deep breath. He closes his eyes, hand still holding yours. 

“Tell me I shouldn’t go after him,” his eyes snap back open and they are brimming with rage. 

“Don’t,” you plead. 

“I wouldn’t lose,” he says, rubbing his thumb across your fingers. He’s here, physically, in front of you, but it seems like his mind is already out the door. 

“He’s not worth it,” you shake your head. 

He readjusts the wolf on his head and nods, as if trying to convince himself you’re right. 

“Go to Seungmin, put some ice on it.”

He lets go of your hand and heads for the basement with Changbin.

3:30am 

You’ve apologized profusely to the members and the other assignees, hoping the altercation with your ex hadn’t put a damper on the night. They assure you it’s alright—they all seem more concerned that you’re okay, and it makes you feel warm and cared for.

The house has mostly emptied, Seungmin and Jeongin are getting the last few stragglers out. Changbin and Hyunjin are supposed to be helping clean but Changbin, drunk off his spiked punch, is cradling Hyunjin’s face in his hands and loudly alternating between calling him the cutest piglet he’s ever seen and asking him to ‘oink’. Hyunjin is cackling, trying to squirm away from his touch, but he’s no match for Changbin’s strength.

Chan, Jeongin and Han come up from the basement and shut the light off behind them. 

“Everyone’s clear from down there,” Han says, removing his pirate hat.

Chan has his arm around Jeongin’s neck as Jeongin supports his stumbling steps. 

“…and that’s why you’re my baby,” Chan is saying to Jeongin.

“Okay, hyung, okay. I’m your baby forever,” Jeongin is smiling widely, amused.

He must not get to see their chapter president like this often. 

You’ve never seen him like this. 

“Y/n,” he says with a smile when his eyes fall on you.

He shakes free of Jeongin and walks to you.

“What did you do to him down there?” You ask.

“We had to keep him from going after that guy—he’s at least responsible enough to not drive drunk,” Han tells you. 

His words give you some pause. You would never want to condone any further violence, but…had Chan been ready and willing to fight over you? 

Chan hugs you from behind, head hanging over your shoulder.

“You should probably take him upstairs,” Felix says, taking the stack of paper plates you’ve amassed and tossing them into the trash bag he’s holding. 

You step to the side and drape Chan’s arm around your neck, holding on to it with one hand as the other holds him by the waist. 

He lets you walk him up the stairs, giggling to himself as he concentrates on taking one step after the other. 

“Do not fucking fall. I’m telling you right now I can’t save you,” you warn him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he giggles again, putting his other hand on the rail to grip as he walks.

Once in his room, finally, you ease him onto his bed and he immediately splays out flat on his back. You kneel on the bed to get his costume off and he lets you remove his gloves, and vest without putting up a fight. However, when you get off the bed to place them on the dresser, he protests

“Come here with me,” he whines. 

“You need to sleep it off, Chan.” You tell him, softly.

“No,” he pouts, sitting up on the bed, swaying. He looks like he’s concentrating every fiber of his being on holding steady. “Come here.” 

There’s more demand to his voice the second time. You sigh and walk towards the bed.

“Don’t do that,” he chides.

“Do what?”

He mimics your sigh.

“Like you hate me or something. Don’t hate me,” he turns to look at you with sad eyes and pout once again firmly in place on his lips. 

“I don’t hate you,” you tell him truthfully, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you sit next to him on the bed. “You’re just always so hot and cold with me. I don’t know how to be or feel when I’m around you. I’m in a perpetual state of conflicting confusion with you.”

You choose to be honest with him about your emotions. You do want him to know how it feels, but you also wonder if he’ll even remember any of this tomorrow.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, leaning to the side to rest his head on your shoulders. “I have to be this way, y/n.”

You furrow your brow at his response. Why on earth would he have to be this way to you? You shake him off of you and he sits back up on his own, leaving his head hanging. 

“Why, Chan?” You ask angrily. He doesn’t budge. “Chan. Look at me!”

Your sharp tone of voice causes his head to snap up.

“Why?” You ask again, softer this time. 

“It’s just easier this way…I don’t think I cou—“ he starts but trails off and shakes head, unable to finish.

“Chan, please,” you plead with him. “How is this easier? Easier than what?”

He shrugs and places his head in his hand. A silence falls over the room as you wait to see if he will respond. He doesn’t, and it angers you. 

“Why would you choose me,” you start slowly, “if you’re so determined to treat me like an object you own when everyone else in this house can be both friends and lovers, fuck buddies, whatever the hell you want to call it with their assignee. Why is it so fucking hard for you?”

“I couldn’t let you end up with anyone else,” he says, words muffled by his hands.

You sigh. Again. You’re desperate to know what he means, to get some kind of clue about why he keeps you at arms length. Why he wants your full submission but refuses to let you get closer to him. You wish he were sober. It's even more frustrating that even when he’s drunk, he’s not spilling out helpful information. It’s the most of an explanation you’ve ever gotten out of him, though, but talking to him like these feels useless. He’s too heavily guarded. 

He looks up again and turns to face you.

“Stay with me tonight?” 

What is he trying to do to you? It’s the second time tonight he’s asked you to stay with him. And the way he looks right now, annoyingly adorable, you want nothing more than to grant his wish. But it’s infuriating to think that this isn’t the real him. Or if it is, why the fuck can’t sober Chan be the same? If you give in to him like this, after he’s explained nothing yet expects everything from you, you will lose even more of yourself. 

You find logical ways to justify your shared intimacy and lack of anything else, telling yourself that it’s part of the gig as an in-house stay. But what happens if you start to choose him and his behavior doesn’t change? Will you become upset if he continues to treat you the same?

“It’s Saturday,” you say finally, standing from the bed. 

He pouts again.

“It’s Sunday, actually.” He corrects you. 

He stands, taking a moment to catch his balance. He reaches for your hand and brings you towards him. He rubs his finger over the back of your knuckles. The pain from the punch earlier had mostly subsided after icing it.

You think back to Chan’s actions in the kitchen, how he immediately sprung to your defense. It’s as if he wants to be the only one who can get away with mistreating you. 

“We’ll just sleep. Stay with me.” He asks again, bringing your hand to his mouth and placing a soft kiss on it. Your stomach flutters at the sight. 

“No,” you say defiantly, shaking your head. “That’s not how it works.”

“It works how we decide it works,” he counters, placing his hands on your hips and looking down at you. 

“No, Chan…not like this.”

“Fine,” he mumbles, dropping his hands from you. 

He turns away from you and walks towards the corner of the room—to your bed. He grabs your pillow and hugs it to his chest as he walks back to his bed. 

He’s acting like the cutest fucking brat you’ve ever seen and yet you still want to slap his face. How had his parents put up with this? Maybe shipping him off to the states for school had been in their best interest. He would have been a handful, and spoiled rotten. You can almost guarantee it.

He climbs into his bed, holding your pillow as he gets comfortable. You stand watching him. You want to go to him. You want to curl up behind him, to hold him. To share a bed with him for the first time. But you can’t keep setting yourself up for failure. If you do that tonight, what happens tomorrow? He won’t treat you any different and you’ll be upset you let yourself fall for it. 

“Goodnight, Chan,” you say, turning for the door. 

He grunts in response as you turn the light off and exit the room.

On your way downstairs, you stop to listen and see if anyone is still cleaning in the kitchen but it’s dead quiet so you continue to Hyunjin’s room. You make it back to the room and see he’s already knocked out. You contemplate waking him up but decide against it. Any mood you had for fooling around is gone. 

You rid yourself of your costume piece by piece and climb into bed with Hyunjin in just your underwear and a shirt. His body adjusts to your presence, as it always does, and you snuggle in to him. What started as a promising night that could have ended with some fun—with either Hyunjin or Chan—turned out to be quite the opposite.

[ read chapter 10 here ]

a/n: I am struggling so much to keep Chan in check. I want him to just give in an be the bestest boy ever, but then it'll be a rush and the story will end sooner. So, let's ride this out together.

taglist: @iflmho / @skzstaykatsy / @blackhairandbangs / @ayoitschannie / @idunnomanmynamewastaken / @charmer-c / @ihatemen55 / @channiesprincess / @channniesslefttt / @jiwoos-babygirl / @krayzieestay / @kayleefriedchicken / @sunnyhonie / @cotton-candycloudz / @lubsungie / @conwunder / @puckmaidens / @ashleighland / @hyunjiinnnn / @bmnyy / @ihrtlix / @maqqiekwon / @hynxnelly / @teti-menchon0604

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 16 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Every sleepover with Jessica leaves Jake wanting more of her. More time making love, more time reading, more time cooking for her. But when a brilliant scheme is dropped on her lap, Jessica is about to have a little less time to spend with her boyfriend.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, oral, angst, mention cheating, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Jake was absolutely certain he'd never been happier than he was at this moment. Jessica was sitting on the kitchen stool next to him, moaning softly in her dishevelled clothing as she ate the chicken pot pie he made for her. His fingers were loosely tangled with hers, and she kept leaning closer to kiss him after she took a few bites. 

He knew she'd been having a bit of a rough week, so it was important to him that she was relaxed now, especially since he'd been part of the reason the past few days had been tiresome. He hadn't meant to jump her like a horny teenager as soon as she got to his place, but it seemed like neither of them could do much to stop themselves. When he told her he could barely go a day without seeing her, he wasn't joking. At this point, Jessica was a necessity.

"Why don't you take a long shower when you're done eating while I clean up?" he whispered as she took her last bite. 

She nodded and climbed from her own stool onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him before sliding to the floor. "I'll be back."

Her hair was a mess, and she still looked freshly fucked as Jake watched her walk away to his bedroom. When he heard her turn on his shower, he stood and started to clean up the kitchen. There was a lot of food leftover, but he also bought a lot of groceries in case she wanted something else. Part of him was planning on coaxing her to spend some time cooking with him, but he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself.

But they had time. Jake could take his time this weekend, just like he was going to take his time telling Jessica that he loved her. He didn't want to spook her again with this information, but telling her that a day apart was almost too much for him to handle was the beginning of his admission. It was the honest truth. Even now, just knowing she was in his bathroom had him heading in that direction.

He tapped on the door and poked his head into the steam filled room. "Mind if I join you?"

Jessica spun away from the spray of the shower and slid open the glass door, reaching out toward him with her wet fingers. Jake wrenched his shirt over his head and practically tore his sweatpants off to get to her as quickly as he could. 

"Why would I mind this?" she asked, raking her fingers through his chest hair as her temple came to rest on his shoulder. When he touched her arm, he could feel goosebumps even though the hot steam was dense; her reaction to him was always welcome, too. "Honestly, this is the best I have felt all week. Brian's taking a leave of absence, and I get to spend time with you."

Jake froze with his hands halfway up her back. "Brian is taking a leave of absence?" 

"Mmhmm."

"Is that... a good thing?"

Jessica kind of shrugged and then nodded. "I think so. I got an email from the dean asking me to cover one of his classes on Wednesday afternoons."

He considered her words. "Baby, that's amazing. They trust you to take on more work."

"Yeah," she said, crinkling up her nose, "but I still don't have tenure. And with Brian out, I can't even schedule a tenure review with him now that alumni weekend is over."

"Why didn't you tell me all of this as soon as you got here?"

She looked up at his face like he was one of her students who was failing a class. "Because, Jake, I got distracted by you. Obviously. Now why don't you tell me about your week?"

And once again, she amazed him by actually showing interest in what he had to say. Not only that, she called him smart when he talked about his jet's fuel ignition system. And after they got out of the shower, she asked him to read a journal to her. As Jessica was falling asleep, curled up with him on the couch, Jake took her glasses off so they wouldn't get smashed against her face. 

"I love this, Reedy," he whispered, kissing her forehead and making her smile. 

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

"Please tell me you know how to crack an egg," Jake groaned, standing behind Jessica in his kitchen the following day. He had his arms wrapped around her as they made waffle batter together, flour all over the counter and both of them.

She glanced up at him over her shoulder. "Do I look like I went to culinary school to you?"

"Baby," he laughed, reaching for the broken mess of egg shell next to the bowl and swiping it into the sink. "This isn't fine dining. It's a waffle."

"It's fine dining when you make it," she replied, and she was rewarded with Jake's lips on her neck. He hadn't shaved his face, and the scratch along her skin was completely addicting. His fingers dipped inside the neck of his shirt that she was wearing, and he kissed his way to her bare shoulder. "Can we go back to bed?" she whispered, rubbing herself back against him.

All she got was a smack on her butt and Jake's lips back up next to her ear. "No. I'm determined to teach you how to cook something." Jessica whined as he handed her an egg and cracked it with her, dumping it in the bowl of flour before tossing the shell. "See? Easy. Now do one yourself."

She picked up another egg, carefully cracked it, and then half the shell ended up in the bowl. "Oops."

"No, you did great," Jake told her as he fished the shell out of the batter. "I love crunchy waffles."

She groaned and tossed her head back as he laughed. "You're one of those people who is good at everything. You're really annoying, and nobody likes you."

"I know," he agreed, even though she was turning back to smile up at him. "I'm the worst. Now pick up the spoon and mix everything together."

She did as she was told, but frowned at the bowl. "Is it supposed to look so soupy?"

"Add more flour," he whispered as he kissed her ear. A chill went down her spine as his lips remained where they were, and Jake took her hand in his to scoop some more flour. "That's good. Keep mixing."

After another minute, she was shaking her head. "How is this supposed to turn into a waffle?"

"Magic."

And it kind of was magical, the way he made it look so easy. The batter was soon sizzling in the waffle iron, and Jake had her pinned against the counter with his hands up underneath her shirt. He was rubbing soft circles along her waist with his thumbs, and Jessica was enjoying the sight of him in nothing but his tented underwear. 

"Five minutes until the waffle is done," Jake crooned as one hand slipped down the front of her lacy, pink underwear. "Think that's enough time?"

"For what?" she gasped when his thumb found her clit. 

"Get my girl off," he muttered, kneeling in front of her and kissing her through the lace before pulling her underwear down to her mid thighs. 

The thing was, Jessica was certain he could do it in five minutes or less, because he'd done it before. Just not with his mouth. But as soon as his lips met her clit and she could feel his stubble all over her pussy, she was leaning back against the counter and whining for him. 

"Spread 'em wider, Baby," he whispered, kissing her thigh as she eased her legs a little further apart. "That's it. So pretty," he moaned before she felt his tongue glide from her opening up to her clit where he latched on and started sucking. The elastic of her underwear was digging into her thighs a little bit as he eased two thick fingers inside her.

The waffle smelled delicious, and Jake's mouth felt like heaven on her clit. But it was his fingers, thrusting so rapidly and so deep that had her practically shrieking. The muscles in his shoulder and bicep were taut as he finger fucked her sweet spot, but his face was calm and adoring as he looked up at her. As if he wasn't about to get her off in four minutes. As if he wasn't doing the Lord's work in his own kitchen with the waffle iron and with her pussy.

Jessica was pressed up on her tiptoes, shaking on the spot, subconsciously trying to get away from him while also pressing herself against his face. "Oh my god," she cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop, her hips rolling against his face of their own accord. She had lost control of herself as she came, gushing against his lips as her hips jerked. 

She watched him lick his lips as he stroked her clit with his thumb through her orgasm, bringing her to the brink of overstimulation before the timer on the iron went off. Jake hopped to his feet with ease, pressing a wet kiss to her lips before opening up the appliance and said, "Oh good. The waffle is done just like you are."

With a halfhearted glare, she pulled her underwear back up and watched him slice some strawberries for the topping. Two minutes later, she was sitting on the couch while he fed her bites of waffle, berries, and powdered sugar. "This is so good," she gasped. The waffle was crisp and golden brown on the outside, but it melted on her tongue. 

"You made it," he reminded her. "All I really did was cut up some fruit. Later, we can make dinner together, and I'll pack up little containers for you to take for your lunches."

Jessica threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking the plate out of his hand. "Thank you."

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

After spending Sunday playing dress up with Jake, Jessica finally headed home. But not until after she got to see him in his white uniform. And not until after he used his credit card to buy her three hundred dollars of new lingerie. "Next weekend should be even more fun," he crooned as he purchased all of it. 

Now it was late, and she was unloading her lunch containers into her refrigerator after texting him that she got home safely. His response came in the form of one sentence that made her belly swoop. 

Just remember, I can barely go a day without seeing you.

Had they progressed to mid week sleepovers? She thought maybe they had. And when she drove to work on Monday morning, she was contemplating asking him if he wanted to come over that night. She wasn't even thinking about work or Brian or any of it, because she was in such a pleasant haze from the weekend. 

When she plopped down at her desk with her lukewarm coffee, she put her container of homemade lasagna that she had helped cook in her mini fridge. She turned on her computer and mused that there probably wouldn't be a department meeting with no Brian Conley at work, and she smiled. She was still smiling as she finished her coffee and ate a granola bar while she looked through the offerings on a boutique website, searching for the perfect birthday gift for Jake. 

"Oh!" she gasped when she found what she was looking for. She wiled away her time before she had to give a lecture by picking out a pretty green frame to go with the art print. She could already picture it hanging on the wall outside his bedroom door. Just when she was entering her shipping information and credit card number, a loud knock interrupted her thoughts. 

"Come in," she said, her heart starting to race as she purchased the gift, but she calmed down right away when she saw who it was. "Advanced Calculus. How was your weekend?"

But the other woman was looking up and down the hallway suspiciously before she pulled the door closed and rushed toward Jessica's desk. "We don't have time to chat," she said in a loud, harsh whisper as she planted her palms on the desk.

"We don't?" Jessica asked softly, meeting her wide eyed gaze.

"No, we do not. Listen carefully, because we need to act quickly."

"Is something wrong?" Jessica asked, but her friend just shook her head and hit the desk with her palm a few times. 

"No! Now listen! Bradley had to drop me off a little early this morning, so I was in the math supply closet minding my own business when I saw Dr. Rosenthal walk by. And I said good morning. And then he said, 'It's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate,' just like he always does. Hmmm.... now I understand why Bradley likes it when I hang out with a very harmless old man at work...."

Jessica was gesturing for her to get to the point.

"Oh, yes, right! So, good old Walter Rosenthal stood there and looked at me like he had some hot gossip to share, which is wild, because I think he's at least seventy five, and he never talks about anyone. But I could tell. So, we stood there in the supply closet doorway, and he just unloaded about Brian."

"What did he say?" Jessica gasped. 

"That Brian is taking a leave of absence! Apparently his wife walked in on him and a TA. But since she's not his TA, the university doesn't even care." Jessica was about to tell her that she already knew all of this information, but she kept her mouth shut as she continued. "But the real kick in the ass is that Brian is suddenly taking time off to work on his marriage! His wife is making him!"

"Really?" Jessica asked, leaning closer. 

"Yes! And I didn't even get to the good part yet!" She was hitting the desk again as she jumped around. "You can thank me later for solving all your problems."

"I can?" Jessica asked, wishing she'd get on with it.

"Mmhmm. You see, Dr. Rosenthal just so happens to hold not just one, but two PhDs."

"He does?"

"He does! Mathematics and physics. Physics, Jessica! And he's going to be filling in as the interim head for the science department while Brian is off. And Dr. Rosenthal told me that he will be off for the rest of the month!"

"The rest of the month...." Jessica's gaze shifted away from her face when she realized it was only the second day of the month. Then she gasped. "The rest of the month!"

"Yes! And how long does it take to complete a tenure review?"

Jessica's heart was pounding so hard, she thought she was going to be sick, whether from nerves or excitement, she wasn't exactly sure. "Three to four weeks."

"Three to four weeks!" She was back to pounding on Jessica's desk as she whispered as loudly as anyone possibly could. "You need to get Rosenthal to review your tenure. And you need to get him to start it today."

"I can't ask him to do that," Jessica whispered as her heart sank. "It's so much work, and he's just an interim department head. And since he has tenure, they probably aren't even offering to pay him more for taking over."

"You can ask him, and you will! This is your chance. Anyone with half a brain can see how hard you work around here and how much your students appreciate you."

Jessica chewed on her lip and looked down at her lap. This was the kind of opening she'd spent the past year blindly hoping for. "I suppose he's got all the right credentials: he has a PhD in a scientific field, he's tenured, and he has more than ten years of teaching experience."

"Let's go," her friend said, still pounding on the desk. "Right now. Come on."

With a nod, Jessica was on her feet and reaching for her discarded suit coat. There really was no time to waste if she wanted this to get anywhere. But her hands were shaking on her way to the elevator, and she had a hard time pushing the button. "I'm nervous," she muttered, feeling like an idiot as she buttoned her jacket and ran her hands over the fabric. 

"There's no reason to be. I promise," her friend replied. "Rosenthal is very reasonable. I'll introduce you, and then you can chat and see what he has to say. The worst he can tell you is no."

Jessica had already subconsciously gotten her hopes up that this whole thing might work out, and when she reached his office over in the math building, she was starting to feel faint. He had to say yes. He absolutely had to. If he did, she would take back every mean thing she ever said about all of the old guys at this college. 

"Come in," called out a voice, and Jessica hadn't even realized that her friend already knocked on the door. Dr. Rosenthal looked a little stern at first in his reading glasses, but as soon as he saw who it was, he said, "It's a little early for lunch and curriculum talk, isn't it?"

"Dr. Rosenthal, have you met Dr. Reed? From the Physics department?"

He immediately stood and stuck out his hand, and Jessica felt a little bad shaking it with her clammy one. "Good morning, Dr. Rosenthal. It's nice to meet you."

"Yes, yes. But it's always a good morning when you can calculate the area inside the donut you just ate."

Jessica smiled, because apparently that was his go-to line. "A calculus joke? I like that. A good use of integration. But I prefer the physics version that claims a donut is fundamentally the same as a coffee mug."

"You know the topologist joke!"

"I'm pretty sure they don't let you have your physics PhD unless you do," she said with a tiny smile.

"Well, what can I do for the two of you?" he asked, glancing at his watch. "I need to meet with Dean Walters in thirty minutes, so I don't have very much time."

"I just informed Dr. Reed that you'll be taking over things in the science department for a few weeks while Dr. Conley is... unavailable."

Jessica had to swallow three times until her mouth felt wet enough to form actual words again. "And as a result, I hate to take up any more of your time, but my tenure review with Dr. Conley has been continually delayed. I was actually planning on talking to him about it again this morning, but that's when I heard he isn't even on campus right now." She was shaking slightly again; she never was any good at telling a lie, even a little white one.

"I'm not surprised," Rosenthal replied before pursing his lips in disgust. "Seems like he was busy doing other things, I suppose. Getting his work done was perhaps the last thing on his mind." He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You still need to be reviewed again?"

Jessica shook her head. "I need to be reviewed for the first time, actually."

His brow furrowed. "How long have you been at the school?"

"Almost two years."

His eyebrows shot up. "Two years? And Dr. Conley never gave you a tenure review?" She started to shake her head, embarrassed all over again that she had managed to derail her own career by sleeping with him. Luckily Rosenthal saved her from having to speak just then. "Of course. Of course. It should have already been taken care of," he mumbled, shuffling papers around on his desk. "Just let me find my calendar."

The two women watched as he pulled out an enormous, old fashioned schedule keeper and a pen. Jessica's heart was beating so erratically now, she was afraid of what she would say if she opened her mouth. "I'm really rather booked up now, as I'm sure you can understand," he murmured. "But perhaps we can sit down together on Wednesday at lunchtime? I'll need a copy of your schedule to start with, and a copy of your students and their grades."

"I can have that to you this morning," she blurted out.

He smiled as he wrote in his calendar. "Ah, yes. I always did appreciate a professor who keeps up with their grades. The only other thing we will need is another tenured staff member with a PhD who won't mind writing a secondary report and signing off on my findings."

"I'll do it."

Jessica turned to look at her friend as tears welled in her eyes. It was one thing to ask Dr. Rosenthal to give up hours and days of his spare time to sit in on her lectures and critique everything and write a massive report, but this was something else entirely. It would eat up all of her spare time.

"No, I can't ask you to do that, Advanced Calculus," Jessica whispered as her vision blurred behind her glasses. 

"Okay, well you didn't ask. I offered," she replied with a completely neutral expression. 

Rosenthal looked between the two of them before saying, "That's settled then. Just get your schedule and your grade book to me later today, and expect to see me sitting in on your classes."

"Thank you," Jessica practically gasped, reaching to shake his hand again before she turned toward the other woman who was holding the door open for her. Once they were alone in the quiet hallway, her lips started shaking with unshed tears. "You didn't have to do that."

She just shrugged. "I'll have to be one hundred percent honest in what I write about, but I don't think that will be an issue. And... I don't think you fully appreciate how much I hate Brian Conley. Or how much I like you and want you to succeed." Jessica hiccupped as she tried not to cry while her friend started to walk away. "I have a Calculus lecture calling my name, but I'll talk to you later."

Jessica walked through the long corridor to the elevator and cried the entire way back to her office, but she felt better than she had in a very long time.

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

Jake was eating lunch while Bradshaw talked his ear off about getting his Bronco detailed. If he wasn't actively putting food into his mouth, he would have fallen asleep. "That's fascinating," he murmured. 

"Right? I have one of the only 1973 models in pristine condition in the state. The whole state."

Jake tuned him out when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and relief washed over him when he saw it was a text from Jessica. Finally, something interesting. 

Any chance you want to meet me at Chippy's for a drink later? And many have a sleepover at my place?

He almost dropped his phone as he texted back as quickly as he could. A Sam Adams after work with his hot girlfriend? Absolutely. A sleepover during the week? Color him committed.

When he showed up at Chippy's at 6:30 just like she had suggested, the place was packed, but there was no sign of her. So he made his way up to the bar where Chippy just blinked at him as he wiped up a nonexistent spill with his towel. 

"Hi," Jake greeted. 

"She's not here," he replied. 

Jake nodded slowly. "She's meeting me soon. Can I get two pints, please?"

Chippy tossed the towel aside and grabbed two glasses, setting them down a little hard in front of Jake once they were full. Then he slid a dish of peanuts next to them while Jake took out his wallet. 

"Perfect," he drawled, handing Chippy a ten with a smile. "You have a nice night." He grabbed an empty hightop with two stools and settled in, nursing his beer and cracking a few peanuts open.

He smiled as he thought about the first time Jessica invited him to her little dive bar paradise. She'd been so excited to talk to him about her lecture and her journals. He'd probably fallen a little bit in love with her that night, if he was being honest. The longer he sat alone and waited, he was reminded of the night she thought he stood her up. If that five mile run had taken him any longer, he doubted he would be here today. 

It was like he could sense her before he saw her, and Jake was out of his seat as Jessica wove around the tables gracefully in her high heels to get to him. "Jake!" she gasped, pushing her glasses up her nose with the backs of her fingers before flinging her arms around his neck. 

"Hey, Smart Girl," he whispered, kissing her while Chippy kept a close eye on things. "Did you have a good day?"

She squealed before chasing his lips for another kiss. Just when things were on the verge of becoming a little too hot for their current setting, she released him with a big smile. "You'll never believe what happened!"

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

I love Sugar. She's bestie material. She's everything. Let's make this happen! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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[twstfanblog]

*~Period Drama~* Wednesday

A/N: Sorry this took me so fucking long. There is no real excuse, I kept getting sick and then with the intense move we had to do a lot was happening in the few months. WordCount: 7.1K Warnings: She/They OC Pronouns

~Taglist @twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter @obsessionswithfandoms @ady-hilborn @lucid-stories @girl-nahh-two @itz-hydrodeptus-foxy7 @chyluna @riddlesimps @death-the-jo @a-twistedheartslonging @qixlin @chaosistheonlyway @welcome-to-my-horde @abell2029cluster @kirans-wonderland @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @the-ace-reader @iamsoconfusedallofthetime @chroniccorvus @marvelous-maxi @prolonged-eyecontact @lozplayer @jabberwocky-warrior @thateldribitch @bun-lapin @mel1rose @ladyraeka @ladyzsgolla @kimdourden @noncreativepage-blog @girl-nahh-two @shironakuronatasa @colombia-chan @roseapov @anunholyabomination Start, Part 2 (Octavinelle), Part 3 (Heartslabyul), Part 4 (Savanaclaw), Part 4.5 (Diasomnia pt1), Part 5 (Diasomnia pt2), Part 6 (Here)

The Diasomnia crew left before Yuu even finished their breakfast on Wednesday. Crewel was not happy seeing Malleus clinging to them when he came to deliver their dinner last night, but the potions teacher didn't say anything past a scoff and an eye roll. Like the past few days the bicolored man had scolded them for their life choices, then shoved a pattern book at them and asked for their preferences.

Morning came, an Octavinelle student showed up with his arms shaking full of food for Yuu and the four Diasomnia students. Breakfast was a calm affair, only for Malleus to stand once he finished his food. He pressed a kiss to Yuu's forehead and gave a small blessing, wishing them a pleasant rest of their day before moving to leave the room.

Lilia called out to him, raising an eyebrow, “Where are you off to? We still have a good hour before we need to go back to Diasomnia to prepare for classes. I'd think you'd want to continue your duty as the royal heating pad…” he chuckled lightly, ignoring Sebek's angered snort.

“I'm aware and I had planned on it. But, I was going to make a stop in Octavinelle to speak with Azul while there was still time.”

…

Yuu fully turned around in their seat, raising an eyebrow at the smiling fae, “About what?”

Malleus only tilted his head in a conscious effort to appear cuter, “You are aware that I adore you, correct Yuu?”

“Malleus, that's my fucking- Don't- don't fucking bully Azul into agreeing with you.”

“I would never. I simply wish to speak to him civilly until we come to an agreement on things…”

Lilia looks up from his meal, already seeing what the younger fae was planning, “Malleus…”

“In fact, I'll bring Jamil with me. He should be a part of this conversation too.”

“Malleus-”

The horned fae had then disappeared in a flurry of green light. Lilia was quick to order Sebek and Silver to search the two dorms that Malleus was headed for while he started his search in Diasomnia; Malleus could be in either dorm. Each of them giving Yuu a rushed farewell before running out of Ramshackle, hopeful they'd find Malleus before he started his ‘conversation’ with the two sophomores.

Even Grim had left a few hours later, playfully stating one of them had to pick up the slack since Yuu wasn't allowed to attend class. Now that they were alone again, Yuu could physically feel their mood dropping. There were options, as there always were. Several friends that they could text throughout the day to keep their mind off of things. Cater, of course, but he was a 3rd year and Yuu could never really tell how serious he was about his schoolwork. Ace and Deuce were a choice, but Crewel might actually give them concussions if he caught them texting during homeroom. (They were filed under maybe, they can suffer in Ramshackle together if the Adeuce duo got concussed). They briefly thought of adding Lilia to that list then decided against it, along with Azul, Jamil, Silver and Sebek; they'd no doubt have their hands full of talking Malleus down.

Idia was most likely in his room dual-screening his classes and whatever RPG-mmo or anime he had started recently. Maybe he could answer them on why Ortho had been radio silent since they saw him on Saturday…

But, in the end, laziness won and Yuu simply returned to the nest Malleus had so lovingly crafted for them. It was warm and cozy, but definitely too big for just themselves; left too much space for their thoughts, mental conversations that told them of the multiple things they needed to do yet physically seemed too daunting at the moment. There were dishes to do that were never finished from Saturday, they definitely needed a shower, or at least to wash their face properly. Sighing, they just curled up in their too-big nest and closed their eyes. A nap fixes everything after all.

Three sharp knocks wake them up. Blinking in mild confusion before another three sharp knocks echo in the downstairs rooms. Yuu grabs their phone from outside the nest and looks at the time, only a few minutes past noon. Crewel must be bringing them lunch. But then they remembered Crewel had a horrible habit of thinking he was too good to knock on doors, simply opening and slamming them so hard he had no doubt gotten a door knob stuck in drywall before.

So who the hell-

The door opens, the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors flanked by more muted footsteps after the door was shut again. Yuu looked up from their phone to see Vil walk into the entryway of the lounge, hands filled with a cloth-wrapped package and a shiny hydro flask complete with a teal straw. From the side of the archway, Yuu could see Epel and Rook poking their heads in with expressions of wariness and glee respectfully.

“Oh, so you are awake. I knocked and you deliberately ignored me.” The actor rolled his eyes, walking further into the room and placing the package and hydro flask at the edge of the nest as faux offerings, “I took the liberty to make you lunch to reflect your body's needs. I expect you to eat it all.”

Yuu looked at the packaged food, no doubt filled with Vil's horrible idea of a ‘balanced’ meal; AKA, unseasoned. They blink, looking up to the junior, “I just woke up.”

Vil's expression grows more exasperated, the corner of his lip curling over his almost unnoticeable fangs in a mild sneer, “It's past noon…”

“Wow, Vil. You're so good at telling time. That's an amazing skill you got there…” Yuu's tone was flat, eyes slowly blinking as they kept focus on Vil's displeased face, “Did you train to read clocks or like-”

“Alright, that's enough out of you-” 

“Mon vieille amor! It's been so long since I've seen your visage.” Rook rushed in, kneeling in front of Yuu's prone form before they could actually gode Vil into a scuffle, “I've been in a state of heartbreak since Crewel placed the visitor ban on your home. Though my woes eased and soul sung when I noticed you were still accepting guests regardless! Is company an aid or a sacrifice during your plight?”

Yuu looks to Rook, making sure the Florian could see them blinking one eye at a time; a common way Yuu could silently tell Rook to ‘Shut up’, “...Could be better…could be better…”

Vil's brows creased, his annoyed expression moving to confusion, “That…is not answering the question…”

“What are you, a fucking lawyer?” Yuu rubs their eyes, “I just woke up, give me a minute.”

“Honestly-”

“Isit true yur bleeding out yur butt?” Epel called out from the entryway, ducking back when Vil quickly snapped to glare over his shoulder at the first-year.

“Epel!”

“A-ah wanna know!”

Yuu finally propped themselves up, leaning weight on their elbows as they looked at Epel in confusion, “Why the fuck would I be bleeding out my ass!?”

“That's what Deuce said!”

“Why is Deuce saying I'm bleeding out my ass!?”

Epel shrugs, his face just as bewildered as Yuu's, “Ah don' know!? He said Riddle said sum shit about it-”

“Epel.”

The first-year shut his mouth, looking away from Vil's no doubt glacial glare and tapping his pointer fingers together before he clears his throat. Epel spoke carefully, his accent being lost in his conscious effort to not swear, “Um…Deuce read some of Riddle's notes? I don't think he read them right, but then again I don't really…know where you're bleeding from…”

Yuu scoffs, “It's not my ass, I'll tell you that much…”

Rook perks up, eyes wide as his hands cover his mouth in a show of surprise, “Mon Dieu! I had hoped I misheard Monsieur Crewel. Are you truly bleeding from such an area, mon vieille amor…?”

“Ye…” 

Vil gave them a concerned glance, opening his mouth only to whip around to glare at Epel's softly muttered ‘gross’. Once he was properly scolded into silence, Vil looked back to Yuu, “Are you feeling alright? I heard from Crewel that he wasn't going to give you any more pain potions. Which is valid, so many potions in such a short amount of time isn't healthy for the body. But that does leave you without proper pain relief…”

“Lowkey, it’s so fucking weird you and Crewel hang out as like puh-seudo equals. Like, just admit you're both part of a fucked up clone project to destroy teenage boys through fashion and aggressively sharp eyeliner.”

Vil's look of concern quickly fell, glaring down his nose at the equally stone-faced first-year,  “Oh, are we fighting? Is that what you decided is going to happen? I come to you civilly, with food and concern, and you decide we're going to have a petty argument as my thanks. Understandable. You are a child.”

“How's it feel to fight a child and lose? Because you are, you're losing.”

“It feels like listening to you prattle on is clogging my pores…”

“You know what pores are?” Yuu gasps, mockingly covering their mouth as they whisper to Rook, “Embarrassing.”

“What does that MEAN-”

Epel and Rook share a look, letting the two continue with their back-and-forth ‘bickering’. To the outside view, the two seemed to actually be arguing. But Epel knew Yuu and Rook knew Vil. While Yuu was a bully at their core, the way they poked at Vil was much softer than the people they actually verbally bit at. And Rook knew his queen was an icon of polite rebuffs, though that wasn't always his thoughts. Vil felt the need to chew people out every now and again as any stressed individual would. Yuu simply was a worthy opponent of wordplay.

The two film research members did enjoy each other's company though, they wouldn't keep spending time with each other if they didn't. If they found joy in verbally slapping at each other and critiquing bad movies until they were a fine paste, who were they to judge them…?

Truly, ‘Sibling Core’ as Cater once joked (only to be promptly cursed by Vil to trip every third step until he took back his statement).

“You're like an egg…that was cracked in the carton and just got a sticky film all over the other eggs so you don’t wanna touch them.”

Vil tilted his head back to let out a single laugh before glaring back down at Yuu, “Oh, I'm a residue now? You're one to talk, you greasy onion. You look a mess, your hair is even more a bird's nest than normal, and I can see the state of your skin from here. You clearly haven't been using the skincare routine I gifted you…” 

…

Yuu opened and then closed their mouth, a repeated action that made Vil raise a single eyebrow. The star already had another comeback locked and loaded, but he could be patient for Yuu to think up a response. He had to be fair after all…

But the comeback never came. Instead, Yuu started to blink rapidly, a look of frustration blooming on their face before they simply bowed their head and let out a single sniffle. Then one sniffle became a choked back sob, as they fully curled into themselves to hide from view.

Rook straightened himself beside the nest, already reaching out to comfort Yuu, “Oh, mon-” only to be shoved out of the way as Vil dropped to his knees to grab at Yuu's shoulders.

“Are you crying!? No, I'm being completely serious, are you actually crying?” When the response was another wet-sounding sniffle and whimper, he climbed into the nest, a look of panicked determination slowly overtaking his face, “Don't-don't cry. Come on, let me- is it the cramps? Here, this yoga pose should help ease the pain. Let me get you into it.”

Vil worked quickly but gently, managing to put Yuu into a sitting position with their knees bent and the soles of their feet pressed together. He crawled deeper into the nest, placing himself behind them and wrapped his arms around their middle when the crying first-year tried to fold back in on themselves.

“No! You're going to hurt yourself, you are not that flexible. Is this helping? I have other poses that should help. Please, stop crying. We can watch one of your horrifically scarring children's movies if you stop.”

Epel had retreated back to the entryway, gripping onto the wood and looking at Yuu in confused terror, “What's happening!? What did you do!?”

Vil glared at Epel, shaking his head, “Don't you blame this on me- Yuu, don't tell Crewel I made you cry.”

Yuu sniffled, trying to lay limply in Vil's hold but the 3rd year kept them upright, “I'm sorry, I don't wanna cry anymore…”

Rook had pulled himself from the floor, gently cupping Yuu's cheek as he gazed at them in worry, “Mon petite! What has caused such sorrow? Truly mon roi’s words weren't so harsh…?”

“I just…I feel bad. I haven't really felt good and it makes it hard to do things. I gotta list of chores I haven't done because I've been on the edge of hysteria for the past few days. I haven't showered since Saturday because I just wanna sleep and standing is annoying. Vil, I was gonna call you Monday, I promise. but then I went to school and everything was annoying and then I threw up and I forgot-”

Yuu's ramble slowly turned into more tearful crying. Vil was only mildly elated, as his words seemed to simply be a trigger instead of the main cause. The issue now was that they didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. And the last thing Vil wanted was for the first year to manage to cry themselves actually sick during his visit. Crewel would never let him hear the end of it…

Vil reached out of the nest, grabbing the thermos and trying to place the straw into Yuu's wailing mouth, “Here, have some smoothie. Get a healthy liquid in your body-”

“I don't want your fucking green juice, Vil!”

Everyone subtly leaned away from Yuu, eyes wide at the raw anger they suddenly displayed. Vil still pressed the cool flask to the first-year's face. Both to pointedly demand they drink the smoothie and to help cool the flushing of Yuu's cheeks.

“It's not my blend. I used nothing but fruit in this! Strawberries, peaches, and mangos!” And a handful of spinach because lord forbid this child eat a vegetable; but he wasn't going to tell them that, “It's a treat, since you've been so ill…”

Yuu cast a disbelieving look to Vil, face pinched together before they finally took a sip from the flask's straw. At the promised taste of nothing but fruit, they took another gulp. Taking the flask from Vil they weakly say, “It's good…thank you…”

Just as the Pomefiore trio thought they were in the clear, Yuu took in a shuddering breath that quickly turned back to a tearful muttering, “Sorry. I'm serious, I'm trying to stop crying.”

Epel called out from the archway, finally stepping fully into the room now that Vil was half grappling with Yuu, “What ya even cryin’ about? Ah know Vil's smoothies suck but they aint always that bad…”

Vil muttered briefly for Epel to stop blaming him for Yuu's crying fits. Yuu had taken another pause to gulp at the chilly fruit smoothie, taking the offered wrap Rook had handed them from the now-opened lunchbox.

“Dude, I've been a fucking train wreck for the past half week. This shit is normally over by now and I'm still dropping clots.”

Rook and Vil share a mildly horrified look at the mention of clots. Why are clots involved in this? Are clots supposed to be involved?

“I'm reaching new mental and emotional ATLs at, like, random intervals, I've got a sink full of dishes that I don't wanna do and I don't wanna ask anyone to do. I gotta shower, that's just a fucking fact; I don't wanna shower because while I'll feel great afterwards, that's a whole mental race just to get into the shower for some reason. And I'm also upset because I've gotta do so much laundry once this shit is over because I've been bleeding all over the nice things you guys have given me for the past four days-”

“Okay, okay.” Vil quickly shushed Yuu, guiding the chicken wrap from the lunch into their mouth in an effort to stop their hysterical spiral. Once Yuu was chewing the food, he snapped his fingers and called his other dorm members to attention, “Epel, go to Crewel and get the surprise. Whatever he has ready, simply package it and bring it back here. Rook, go to Pomefiore and bring me my spa kit.”

Epel nodded, turning around and rushing out of the room to race back to the school with nothing said other than ‘I'm on it’. Rook smiles, kneeling on one knee and bowing with a hand over his heart.

“Which kit would you prefer, mon roi?”

“The big one.” Vil looked to the freshman in his arms, sighing softly before turning back to Rook, “And stop by Sam's to get them another treat…” He smiles at Yuu, tilting his head in a questioning manner, “Would you like a treat, dear little onion?”

“...” Yuu sniffled, “I want a chocolate bar…”

Vil nodded, petting Yuu's head, “Get them a dark chocolate bar-”

“I want a milk chocolate bar…”

“Dark chocolate is healthier, onion…”

Yuu sniffles, voice breaking at random intervals as they start to cry again, “I want a milk chocolate bar-”

“Fine. Oh my seven. Rook, get them a milk chocolate candy bar and my large spa kit from my room.”

“Oui!” With a chuckle and tip of his hat, Rook turned to exit the room, “Please no fighting while alone, you both fight dirty when no one is looking. Je reviens!” He waves as he disappears around the corner.

With Rook gone, Vil sighed. Mildly resigning himself to the act of cuddling his pseudo-sister until the others return. Gently carding his hand through their hair, he couldn't fight the grimace his face did at feeling its texture.

“Lord, your hair is greasy…”

Yuu looks at him, face almost pathetic with tears in their eyes, “Vil-”

“I'm going to fix it! It's fine! Shhhhh, eat your wrap. It was strangely hard to make food for you…”

Yuu takes another bite of the wrap, speaking around their full mouth, “I can see why. It actually tastes good, that must of been hard for you to do.”

Vil scoffs, petting Yuu's head as he glared off to the side and mumbled under his breath, “You are so lucky you're in pain…”

Epel was mildly surprised he managed to beat Rook back to Ramshackle. With an oblong box tucked under his arm he entered the dorm, stopping briefly in the entry hall as he heard music. Closing the door behind him, he walked further in; the sound of the upbeat music getting louder and accompanied by soft groans.

“Hello?” Epel peaked into the lounge, his confused face fading seeing Vil lead a very unwilling looking Yuu in exercise. 

Vil's voice cut through the music, jacket off as he gracefully did knee lifts to the beat of the music, “ -One and two, and one and two, and- knees up, onion! No wonder you feel awful, you've been doing nothing but laze around for days straight.”

Yuu groans, but picks their knees up higher in the standing knee lifts Vil had bullied them into doing, “Fuck you! I've been in pain for the past few days! I'm allowed to be lazy!”

The third-year rolls his eyes, his only show of solidarity being he was exercising alongside Yuu, “Please. You've become so lazy in a matter of days that your own body is deteriorating; You could normally do this easily; I'm not letting you whine and pout your way out keeping yourself healthy.”

Yuu glared over to Vil, shaking their head slowly yet staying in pace with his knee lifts, “I swear to the Seven, I'm gonna find your fucking Eros Era white suede jacket you hide from me and I’m gonna fucking bleed all over it.”

Vil glared back with a matching intensity, “You stay away from my white clothing, you little-”

“Ah'm back!” Epel quickly yelled out, holding the box into the air, “Ah got the goods!”

“Oh perfect timing, the infant was getting on my nerves…” Vil was quick to stop the music, handing a panting Yuu the hydro flask before walking over to Epel. He clicked his tongue, seeing Crewel had taken the time to wrap the box before giving it to Epel, “How many did he finish?”

“Hm…” Epel looked down at the box; matte black wrapping paper and a bright teal ribbon tied into a bow. Thinking back he tried to remember just how many colorful pieces of cloth he saw Crewel throw into the box, “Ah think…around nine? Maybe ten? There were a lot of patterns…”

“Good enough…” Vil sighed, but took the box from Epel's hands, calling out to Yuu chugging from the hydro flask, “Yuu! Come here, we have a gift for you in this trying time.”

“If you give me more health shit, I will actually start swinging…”

“Just open the box.”

Yuu rolls their eyes at Vil's annoyed pout, snatching the box away from him and tearing the paper away. Once the box was bare, they opened it and looked inside in confusion, “What are these? Fabric samples?” 

They reach into the box, pulling out one of the ‘samples’ only to see it had already been cut and stitched into the shape of boyshort panties. They almost put the underwear back into the box, a mix of annoyance and frustration at seeing the cute patterns. What use was underwear to them right now? They would just ruin it by bleeding through it…

Then they notice the black fabric seeming to take up the entire inner lining of the panties. Yuu raised an eyebrow, rubbing their thumb against the foreign feeling material, “What…is this?”

Vil smiled, watching as Yuu seemed to slowly realize what they were holding, “These took quite some doing; Crewel has been working on these articles since Saturday, I believe. He had to consult with Ms. Oster on what materials would respond best to the blood absorption potion, since gauze would certainly be unpleasant against such an area…”

Yuu's eyes seemed to widen, glittering as they looked through the box at the adorable patterns, “He made me period panties!? Holy shit, I love this!” They squealed, moving to rush off to put their new underwear on, “I'm gonna wear them right now!”

Before Yuu could rush past Epel, Vil gripped the back of their shirt and yanked them back, “Oh no, you're not. You're going to get into the shower and scrub up. Then we're going to wait until Rook is back with my spa kit and then you're going in the tub.”

“Does the mold in the air give you hyper bitch powers? Is that why you act like a total mom anytime you're in here?”

Epel mumbled under his breath, looking at the corners of the room in concern, “Wait, there's still mold…?”

Vil scoffed, snatching the box and underwear from Yuu's hands pointing to the stairs, “Just get in the shower before you start growing mold.”

Yuu mumbles in a high pitched tone, mocking Vil as they walked up the stairs.

Rook had luckily appeared only a few minutes after Yuu had exited the shower. Though firmly scrubbed down and ready for a long soak, Vil had spent the past five minutes critiquing Yuu's unwashed hair. The annoyed first-year stating Vil was the one who said he was going to ‘fix it’.

What Yuu wasn't expecting was the size of Vil's ‘big’ spa kit. They had assumed it would at best be a briefcase filled with a few high quality bottles of bubble bath and skin care. Instead Rook walked back into the lounge wheeling behind him what Yuu could only think was the biggest rolling suitcase they had ever seen in their life. It was dark indigo, gold trimmed and hard shelled; a small lock keeping it closed.

Rook sighed, pulling the suitcase to stand in front of him, “Mon roi, apologizes. I would have been back sooner but you had changed the passcode to access your more extensive kits…” He looks to Yuu, pulling a large candy bar from his breast pocket, “And your treat, mon petite!”

Yuu smiled, taking the candy from Rook and pocketing it in their fuzzy robe, “Oh, sick, thank you, Rook. Also, what the fuck is that?” They pointed to the hard plastic carrier, looking questioningly as Vil walked forward. They raise an eyebrow, watching Vil pull a key from a chain around his neck and unlock the suitcase, “Oh, damn; is this it? Is that the launch codes?”

“Shush. Now pick a fragrance; some of these oils do NOT mix nicely together…”

“Uh…floral?” Yuu watches as Vil rolls his eyes, and opens the suitcase.

The case had bottles upon bottles of various liquids strapped to the lid. In the bottom half, Vil folded out multi-shelved displays holding more secured glass and gold trimmed vials. The bottom of the suitcase holding a sealed container of white powder.

Both Epel and Yuu blinked in wonder as Vil seemed to build out an entire pantry’s worth of shelves. Rook stood behind them smiling. The other 3rd-year adored watching Vil work, the very fact this was only one of his kits never failed to amaze him.

“Honestly, the most basic…It's fine I can work with that…” Vil looks through the multiple shelves, grabbing vials from labeled sections. He snaps his fingers, conjuring an ornate bottle and filling it half way with the powder. Grabbing vials, he delicately pours small amounts into the bottle, “Jasmine…Vanilla…and…” he smiles, grabbing one more vial, “And Lavender!” Vil pours the final oil into the bottle, grabbing a few other vials and adding them in before capping the bottle.

With a flick of his wrist, magic courses through the glass and mixes the contents perfectly. Vil smiles as he presents the ombred soap to Yuu, “There we are. One floral scented bubble bath to promote muscle relaxation, moisturize, and just a bit of skin protection.” 

Yuu oo’s and aa’s, laughing at Vil's glare seeing they were clearly taunting him. 

“Just go get in the tub. You've eaten, exercised, and showered off the days of grime. Now you can simply relax and let the warm water fully heal you.”

Yuu was already half up the stairs, smiling at the swirling colored soap in hand, “Don't gotta tell me twice…”

Ramshackle was a big building. It was hard to see at times with how massive the other ‘official’ dorms were, but Ramshackle was an insanely big home for two people alone. A fact that was discovered during the VDC.

There were many a locked room in Ramshackle; a fact Crowley seemed to find no issue with and only produced random keys to open the doors for them when he wanted to.

But, luckily for Yuu, during the VDC Rook had ‘revealed’ his love of kicking down doors. So of course Yuu let him kick to his heart's desires. And surprisingly, one room had been a massive bathroom; a small pool-sized indoor onsen that sat in a raised stone platform, the area seemingly themed after a jungle grotto. Kalim had concluded it was potentially a group bath, noting that behind the brittle vines were changing rooms and there was a clogged drain in the center of the room. Vil had been elated to see it, and after a thorough cleaning the group had taken to after practice soaks in the warm waters.

But now, it was simply Yuu's favorite bathtub.

They sighed contently, the bottle of bubble bath already half gone. Flora scented color changing bubbles blanketing them. A small towel over their face, they had no plans to leave the tub for the next four days if the water stayed toasty.

They sighed, hearing a knock on the door, “Come in, I guess…”

Vil opened the door lightly asking if they were covered before entering. When Yuu consented he stepped into the room, his arms filled with a basket holding a number of bottles and more towels.

“Honestly, you would waste the water to fill this tub up, just for yourself.”

Removing the towel on their face, Yuu flipped Vil off but didn't move as the third-year knelt beside them, “Leave me alone. It's my tub anyway. I'll waste the water if I want.” They sunk lower into the tub, ignoring Vil gently tugging on their hair to bring them to the edge.

“Come here, I'm washing your hair.”

“I already washed it.”

Vil tugged harder, fully jerking Yuu's head around as he glared. Their hair was an offensive texture, mildly wet, yet still clearly greasy, “You did not. Now stop being a brat and rest your head against the edge.”

Yuu groaned loudly, letting Vil place one of the towels at their neck before tilting their head back. Vil poured water over their hair, thoroughly soaking it before applying the first of many the products he had brought up. 

Vil sighed, working the shampoo into Yuu's hair and scalp, muttering under his breath, “I swear, I have no idea what this aliment is but you've managed to deteriorate in a matter of days. And you went to classes in this state? Your motives don't add up if you were trying to keep this all a secret.”

“Are you here to just nag me and have the option to drown me if I talk back?” Yuu had deadpanned, blinking lazily at the ceiling. They tilted their head back further to look at Vil when he sighed heavily.

“I was very…concerned. Well connected you are, you seem to forget you are a teenage girl who's been displaced in a completely new world with no actual support system past your schoolmates. There was no telling what had happened to you when I didn't hear back…” Vil poured more water into Yuu's hair, rinsing out the suds and applying a second lather. “I take my care for you very seriously.”

Yuu huffed, rolling their eyes but keeping still as Vil cleaned their hair, “Yeah, is that why you made me exercise?”

“Yes.” Vil scoffed, rinsing Yuu's hair again and looking over his assortment before picking up a new bottle, “Annoying as you may be, you are one of the freshmen I've chosen to take under my wing. And as such I will help you reach your full potential.”

“By force?”

“If it comes to it; we both know in an actual fight I would win…” Vil hummed working the product through Yuu's hair, “I know whatever is happening is painful for you and that is tragic on its own. But lazing around was doing you no good in the long run. If anything it was making things worse since you barely had the energy to move.”

Yuu rolls their eyes, “Well, yeah…this shit hurts. I don't wanna move or do anything…”

“But once you did, you felt more energized, didn’t you?” At Yuu's silence he smirked in triumph, “Call me mean all you like, but I expect you to treat yourself properly at all times. That means eating healthy, exercising, and pampering yourself as needed. Since you are in pain and quarantined, I will pamper you myself today.”

“...” Yuu tilts their head back again, smiling at Vil who smiles back, “Thanks…” Yuu moves to fully relax in the tub, color shifting bubbles acting as a faux blanket while Vil massages the product into their hair.

Only a few moments passed before Yuu's eyes blinked open. The products smelling familiar yet still foreign, “Wait, what stuff are you using?”

Vil didn't answer, contently working more product into Yuu's hair. 

Managing a glance to the basket, their eyes caught a familiar bottle that made them groan and attempt to escape Vil's grasp, “GOD DAMN IT, VIL!”

“I will drown you, stop fighting me-DON'T YOU SPLASH ME!”

Yuu scowled, glaring at an all too pleased Vil as he sat in the nest beside them applying a green tinted face mask to his cheeks. Their once straight hair had been restored into its natural state of fluffy 4A curls, “You just can’t let shit fucking be.”

“The very fact you willingly heat damage your hair to keep it straight is a crime I should kill you for.” Vil gently cupped a handful of curls in his hand, smiling as he bounced them lightly, “Your natural hair is gorgeous, you should wear it like this more option.”

“I should shave your head.”

“I should-”

Epel spoke from his spot beside Yuu, hair pinned back as he wore his own face mask, “Can y’all not fight when Ah'm like two inches away from ya?”

Vil huffed, rolling his eyes but releasing Yuu's hair, “We're not fighting.”

“Y’all are two cherry pits away from actually swinging on each other…”

Yuu snorted, whispering loudly to Vil so that Epel could still hear, “He's traumatized because me and Sebek bumped into him when we had a disagreement at a sleepover once-”

Epel glared, punching at Yuu's thigh, “You two rolled onta me while I was asleep and fought on top of me until Jack pulled ya off!”

Yuu whined, forcibly trying to kick Epel away from them as the other first year started to punch at them repeatedly, “Vil! Epel hit me!”

Vil hummed, checking his nails and barely acknowledging the two squabbling next to him, “Epel don't hit Yuu. She's already leaking blood.”

Epel groaned and made a series of grossed out noises before trying to escape Yuu's  range.

Yuu hummed and lifted their sleep shirt, looking at their new brightly patterned underwear, “Leaking isn't a problem anymore. These bad boys are iron clad; I don't even feel damp.”

“Put your shirt down.” Vil groaned, quickly pulling Yuu's shirt down to cover their underwear properly. Rolling his eyes as Yuu flashed their panties one more time before he stood, “I'm going to make myself a snack for the movie.”

“Rook is making us snacks for the movie.”

“No, Rook is making you both snacks. I'm making myself a snack that isn't going to be an unhealthy mess drowned in mayo and salt.”

The third-year walked away, waving over his shoulder, “Don't fight and please, Epel don't eat the mask.”

Epel gave a noncommittal noise, already swiping a finger across his face. Don't eat the mask; don't make a face mask from bananas and avocados…

Silence passes over the room, Yuu clicking through their laptop to make sure their movie of choice was fully loaded and prepped for viewing. Epel would glance over to his friend before looking away. Before long he finally huffed and angled his body to face them directly.

“So…yur bleeding out your butt-”

“Not my ass, but go on.”

Epel scoffed rolling over to his back to stare at the ceiling, “So yur bleeding…and that's…normal?”

“Ye.”

“...” Epel's face pinches, his mind connecting the information yet still refusing it, “That sounds awful.”

Yuu chuckled, moving to lay down beside on their stomach, “Yeah, it fucking sucks. I wanna like…curl up and cry but also fist fight the sun.”

“It sounds like a curse. Like a really fucked up ole fae curse that they'd do to a cheater or somethin’. Make'em just leak blood for days…”

“...” Yuu's smile widened, “Could you imagine?” At Epel's confused expression they continued, “If you could, like…learn to cast this as a curse, who would you cast it on?”

“...” Epel hummed, brows creasing before he snapped his fingers, “Crewel.”

“Oh my god? WHY!?”

Epel giggled, “Ah mean, if it'll be anythin’ like yurs, we'd get a week off from lessons because he'd rather be in a ditch somewhere.”

Yuu snorted, “Or, he'd keep coming to classes and take his blood rage out on us.”

“Damn…true…”He nudges Yuu with his knee, raising an eyebrow, “Who would you curse?”

“...I mean if we're being correct, I would have started to sync up with the vaginas I spend the most time with. So…that'd actually be you and Vil.”

“No.”

“Yes. Could you imagine? All three of us synced up and trying to stay alive?”

“Ah would actually take ma’self out. The very idea of blood leakin’ outta me for days is so fuckin’ distressin’. But pair that with you and Vil? Ah couldn't survive…”

Yuu snorts, rolling their eyes and turning back to the laptop, “Weak bitch.”

Epel swings his arm to punch against Yuu's thigh again, “If ya could pick though, who'd it be?”

“Oh, Leona.”

Epel had to set up as he gagged, his laugh choking him, “Why!?”

“He already acts like he's got PMS. I wanna see if he just, like…slips into a coma-stop punching me!”

They laughed and giggled, shoving and smacking each other as they chose more of their friends they would ‘curse’.

Rook had appeared midway through Epel and Yuu recreating a WWE smackdown match. His blunt bangs pulled from his face by a sparkly fuzzy scrunchie.

“Ah! Such grace, such brutality. A duality of kin by spirit than blood. Marvelous, 100 points!”

Yuu spoke calmly, keeping Epel in a full nelson while the other first-year swore under his breath and squirmed, “Oh, hey Rook, did you need something?”

“Oui, mon petite amor. I wished to show you a new skill to aid you in this trying time. I will need you to release Monsieur Pommette to do so…”

Sighing, Yuu released Epel from their grasp and let him breath, “Did you leave Vil in my kitchen? With my poor defenseless seasonings?”

Rook's only reply was to pat Yuu on the head and sit beside them, “May I touch your body mon petite?”

“Rook, I'm begging you to learn how to speak to people in, like…some semblance of the average human being.”

Rook smiles, holding his hands out in silent command to place their body in his grasp.

Yuu sighs, elbowing a grumbling Epel beside them, “Can you make sure Vil doesn't actually throw out my seasonings he deems ‘unnecessary'?”

Epel grumbles a bit more but stands to walk into the kitchen. Once the other first-year was gone, Yuu placed both of their hands into Rook's waiting ones, “Okay. What are you showing me?”

Humming, Rook looked over their hands, his thumbs gently pressing into their palms periodically, “Is Acupuncture a practice in your world?”

“Yeah; it's the Eastern practice where you use needles on pressure points. Never had it done though, the idea of needles in my face was freaky.”

“Tres bien! It's similar then. I have always wondered if your body carried the same pressure points as ours, though I wasn't sure we were close enough to test such a theory. Be it physically or relationship wise.”

Rook grabs one of Yuu's hands in both of his own; one to cradle Yuu's palm gently, and the other making firm small circles in the place between their thumb and pointer finger.”

“Yeah…40 year marriage or not, I would not trust you near me with a pack of needles…”

Rook chuckles, fingers not stopping as they massage the point, “Luckily for me, these methods do not require needles. Though I do hope you will let me try one day.”

“Fuck no. You and needles are not something I wanna be in a room with- Oh…oh…”

“Ah! Is it taking effect?”

Yuu touched their head, blinking in mild astonishment, “My headache isn't so bad anymore.”

“And this is one of the few points I shall teach you! It is called Large Intestine 6, it can alleviate headaches. Though do be careful, you can bruise yourself with these methods.”

Rook then spent the next few minutes showing Yuu the functions of various pressure points to ease their period symptoms. He even gleefully showed them other points where pressure would cause pain and momentary complete bodily paralysis.

Rook hummed as he gently thumbed the skin on the back of Yuu's neck, “For maximum effect I would recommend applying pressure via an elbow jab.”

“I can't wait to stun Vil's arm the next time he tries to pull my ear while scolding me.”

“Please, do not. He will know I taught you this and back hand both of us into next week.”

Vil spoke as he and Epel walked back into the room, each carrying loaded trays, “Taught them what?”

“How to properly hold their head in a sitting position, mon roi!” Rook’s hand moved gently, firmly grasping the base of Yuu's skull and puppeteering their head to a more correct posture, “There we go! Now she may sit with her spine straight.”

Vil hummed, setting the large tray of snacks in front of the nest and looking Yuu over with a critical eye, “...I suppose it will have to do for now. This is a ‘Relax Day’ after all…”

Epel handed Yuu and Rook tall glasses of fruit smoothie, sitting beside Yuu and looking over their laptop, “Is the movie ready?”

Yuu took a moment, simply enjoying the taste of strawberries, mangos, and the hinted kick of tart orange juice. With a few clicks, the TV came to life mirroring their laptop, “Yep! Epel the master remote should have a button for the lights.”

Soon, everyone was cozy in the nest, snacks close and each with a chilled beverage.

Vil raised an eyebrow, already judging the movie by the overly cartoony opening, “And this movie is for…children?”

“Ye…I think…it was an 80’s movie. So ‘For Kids’ normally just meant no titties or swear words.”

Epel’s face quickly soured, glaring at Yuu, “Ah swear ta the Seven, if this anything like that Oz movie-”

Yuu giggled, shushing Epel, “Making you guys watch 'Return to Oz*’ was for my own sick pleasure. This won't be like that I promise.”

Rook sighed, “I should hope not. Monsieur Pommette could not sleep for days…”

Waving them off, Yuu kept their eyes glued to the screen as the movie’s opening twist was revealed, “Don't worry. ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’ is the perfect relax day movie.”

The Pomefiore boys all sat huddled around Yuu, eyes wide in terror as they watched the villain stalk closer and closer to the detective.

“When I killed ya brother! I talked! Just! Like! THIIIIIIIIIIIS!”

Vil whispered harshly to Yuu, mildly afraid to take his eyes off the screen, “This movie is for children?”

“Yeah. The 80’s were wild…”

*Lowkey I wanted to put The Wiz instead but I remembered that movie being delightful besides the single scene in the subway. Return to Oz, however, keeps getting purged from my memory every time I watch it for good reason.