barbajo

[strawberrymochin]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎

Rockstar!gojo x art student!femreader

synopsis- satoru gojo fell in love with you when he was 17. He tried everything to gain your attention—joining the student council, participating in every extracurriculars, performing well in academics yet nothing worked. That was until high school. In college, having been forced into a band, he needed to find a new artist for their posters which he requested shoko to take care of. What he didn't expect was shoko to bring you as a volunteer—

warnings- college!au, satoru being heads over heels for you, he’s so damn in LOVE save my boy, friends to lovers, misunderstanding, SEMI PUBLIC SMUT, fingering, oral fem receiving, PUSSY DRUNK GOJO, dirty talk, creampie, BALL OF FLUFF, ANGST, mentions of smoking and alcoholism, super cute ending

w.c- 8.2k (have faith)

a/n's note- i'd poured out my heart in this (especially the smut). i hope you all do like this. your comments and reblogs are highly appreciated as it helps motivating me for writing long ass fics. taglist is open you can ask me to join. love ya' all!!

When satoru met you for the first time, he was 11 years old. 

You were the daughter of his mother’s friend whom he heard of so many times. Though the accidental reunion in the mall while grocery shopping was the first time satoru ever had the opportunity to meet you face to face. 

It was a totally random encounter, coincidental even, you can say when your mother recognised satoru’s mom and both squealed like teenagers. They'd a lot to catch up with, thus having their kids entertain each other in the play section was convincing enough for them to chit chat in a cafe.

And this is how satoru ended up being stuffed, hand in hand with you, to go enjoy in the play section as his mother patted his back, asking him to be good to you. 

“Don't leave her hand, okay toru?! Make sure you both stay together.” His mom said before scooting herself with your mom. 

Satoru looked at you, his hand locked in yours as you made eye contact with him before shying away, looking in the other direction. He stood confused before pulling you to the gaming section, without any word. 

He scanned amongst the box of video games, before pulling out one which caught his eyes with his unoccupied hand. He gave a side look to you, reluctantly asking “you want to play this?” 

You gaze down at the video game he held in his hands, eyes sparkling a bit, if satoru wasn't seeing things, then raise your head to look at him again. “It has vibrant colours.” 

Satoru nodded, feeling a little giddy that you liked his preference. “It's called mario kart.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widened as he revealed the name. 

“Do you know how to play it?” You shake your head at his question. “Then I can teach you!” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, let's go and install it on the playstation.” 

By the time satoru’s mother returns with your mum, they find satoru giggling along with you, hands still locked with each other, as he points to various stacked video games. 

That day slowly came to an end and satoru didn't get to see you for the next two years till your giggles became a distant echo and your face a blur. 

By the time he was 14, he almost forgot you. 

Until that one day when he noticed you, sitting alone with your lunch staring at the sky at the campus of his high school. 

You were biting on your chopsticks with dreamy eyes as recognition drew in satoru's mind. 

Y/n— he thought. His brows frowned, thoughts slowly going in a muddle. How are you here? eating lunch in his high school campus unless— you're a student over here too! Satoru felt foolish, his lips slowly curving in a smile lifting one hand, abandoning the basketball in the other to greet you. 

However, before he can get his words voiced out to you, gaining your attention, a brown haired girl comes up to you dragging you along with her in a hurry. 

Satoru's hand froze in mid air, awkwardly stretching it above his head before bringing it down and turning towards his friends. He sprinted back to his group resuming the game, yet his mind stayed with you and your dreamy eyes. 

He wanted to say ‘hi’ and watch your eyes grow wide before nodding your head just like you did back then. He wanted to show you the basketball he was holding and maybe teach you how to play ball just like he did back then. 

“Oi satoru! Why are you missing the catch?!” one of his friends shouted, breaking him free of his daze. “sorry…taking a break!” He said, excusing himself, before going and plopping himself down on a nearby bench. 

He recognised the brown haired girl—Yura. She often came to him asking for little favours. Did she know you? A friend? You studied in the same school and yet he only saw you today. Where were you all this time? Satoru was the same age as you. So you were bound to be in the same class, maybe different sections but he knew students from the other sections too. How come he didn't notice you yet?

The recess was over soon and he ran back to his class. Before entering the class, he noticed you again, hurrying to the class next to him. 

Class 1-2.

Satoru felt silly as he read the classroom name in his mind. 

As the final semester rolled on and a new semester started, satoru found out class 1-2 changed to class 2-2 and this year he was in the same section as yours. 

He was excited to finally be able to talk to you without any awkwardness. After all, you were in the same classroom now— which means you will know him when he introduces himself on the first day of class. You will see him, introducing himself aloud and clear and recognition will draw on your face as you remember him. 

That's what he initially thought the night before the first class. Until satoru felt the urge to perfect his speech and kept on practicing it, holding the crumpled sheet in his clammy hands, past midnight. 

As a result he woke up late and by the time he hurried himself to school, the self introduction was half-over. He mumbled his apologies to his homeroom teacher, before hastily introducing himself and going to his assigned seat. 

With that his perfect speech plan of gaining your attention bombed miserably. He raised his head in the direction of your seat—first row second desk, way far than his— fourth row last desk. 

That's when he decided with the determination inclining in his heart to get your attention and make you remember that it's him. 

The plan was simple. He just have to wait till recess and watch his chances closely. Once you're free and alone he will go make a move saying ‘hello’! Maybe even ask for your number. 

Recess hour came by and his plan chose to bite the dust with girls and boys swarming around him to get his number and be friends with him. The group kept him occupied for the entirety of the recess and by the time he was done you were no where to be found in class. 

Similar things happened the next day and the next day and the next day, never ceasing to leave him alone. 

Satoru eventually came up with another plan— excelling in academics. The more he's good in academics, the more are the chances for you to come up to him wanting his help to understand a problem. And the plan worked exceptionally well with girls frequenting him with a doubt in their lesson— except for you. 

This time satoru came up with his active participation in extracurriculars and sports. The more he active he is the more is the chance of you joining the same activity or maybe seek his assistance for the upcoming sports day.

This plan too, was indeed prodigious and did attracted a lot of attention except yours. 

His last option was of joining the student council. As the spirited member of the top student council, you might come up to him with a problem you're facing or anything you want to change. 

So, without thinking much he did joined the student council, hoping to finally gain your attention. However the following week, concerns and requests for changes decreased promptly. The other council members sighed, few scrutinizing satoru. After all no one in the entire school would want their so very handsome, energetic and popular Satoru Gojo to have a heavy work load after school. 

“Since we don't have any work to do now, thanks to gojo-kun, I'd gladly like you all to only maintain the regular class desk arrangement.” the student council president announced before leaving the council room. 

Satoru sighed, this isn't what he thought. He just wanted your attention not the entire school’s. Everyone looked at him, when he walked, when he sat, when he ate, people always turned around to take a second look. Yet you never laid your eyes on him. Even being in the same class you never came up to him to chat. 

Back slouched, with his tie undone, he slammed the door open of his classroom to pick up his bag. 

You flinched. 

Hand covering your mouth, a dust wiper on the other, you looked at him as he froze. 

One entire year, was how satoru spent to gain your attention, to get you look at him, and when it finally happened the time seemed to halt. The sun rays pooled into the room with slow breezes messing up your bangs and satoru couldn't mutter a word but stare.

Conscious about him gaping, he tore his gaze away from you before shutting the door, this time gently. 

The council president asked them to take care of class desk arrangements. However, the desks in his classroom have always been arranged, even before he joined the student council.

“you…um arrange the desks everyday?” He said fixing his tie, slowly walking up to his desk, wiped clean by you. “Yes.” 

Satoru accompanies you cleaning and arranging for the rest of the time in complete silence. Soon you take your leave, and so does satoru but this was the time he was happy like really really happy. 

He didn't exchange any words of recognition with you, from the day at the mall. He didn't talk. Yet he was beaming radiant, for just being with you, momentarily alone, in peace. 

That day soon came to an end and another year passed by. Satoru did nothing but admire you from afar. This was the only way he felt the closest to you. He saw how you wiped and arranged the desks everyday; help people without even letting them notice; lend the only pencil you have without a word; and care for the garden whose garish flowers were disregarded by others. 

The more he saw, the more he knew you. And the more he felt his heart slipping away. 

You were kind, gentle and soft. You noticed people behind their masks. You regarded the smallest of the things with such care. And your delicate hands, often smeared with paint, held the responsibility of others without complaining. 

He often saw yura asking favours from you, shoving her cleaning duties to you, sending you to get her lunch from the 7-eleven nearby and never once you said 'no'. You were so so precious. 

He knew he’d to stop; the way you engrossed him, linger on his mind all day to the point that he was unable to think of anything but you was straight up creepy but his eyes never stopped searching for you.

Even in the midst of the crowds on a random road his eyes would unconsciously seek for you. 

And by the time he was 17, satoru was hopelessly, absurdly and miserably in love with you.

Another year passed by and he could do nothing but stare. And the fact that you often looked at him too made things even worse. 

He was so down bad for you that he couldn't keep on going like this anymore. He was so sure he'd confess to you on the day of graduating the high school, not caring about rejection. 

Satoru stayed up an entire night, perfecting his confession. But by the time the graduation ceremony ended and he went to look out for you, you were nowhere to be found. 

He asked yura about you, to which she replied that you went back home early and satoru had his heart broken at 18. 

He couldn't move on easily but giving you up was the only option left. Unwillingly, satoru made his devastating decision of giving you up. He never thought he would see you again until a few years later in college, shoko brought you right in front of him. 

“We need a new artist to cover up for this concert.” said geto suguru, stuffing his phone back in his pockets. “Why? What happened to ren?” 

“Got himself into an accident and fractured his right arm.” Geto plops himself back down on the couch beside satoru, before pulling on the fretboard of his bass. 

“Should visit him then.” 

“Forget it.” 

“Why?” frowned satoru, geto suguru—his best friend, the one he went to middle and high school with, was not the type to feign indifference. His behavior indeed had satoru confused. 

“Nanami informed he got drunk at the last concert before getting himself into the accident. Drunk driving it is.” 

“Did yaga find out about this?” 

“Fortunately, he didn't. Nanami covered the case before him finding out,” geto brought his hand, swiping back his string of bangs, “if it reaches yaga, he will ban us from using the campus stadium.”

“lucky I'd say…so what now?” The next concert is in 3 days and the band poster is still incomplete. 

Shortly after satoru joined his college, suguru started a band along with two other guys. The band was doing well but due to a disagreement they decided to split up. Suguru then suggested satoru join the band and the following year they gained another member named nanami kento. 

They used to hold performances at random pubs but as its popularity increased, the college decided to give them the campus stadium to hold their concerts. Something they did extra was hiring an artist to do their band poster— hand-drawn. It'd become a little tradition— a lucky charm says suguru, and now that their artist had broken his hand right at the eleventh hour before the concert they will have to— 

“Find a new one.” 

“nana—” geto shuts him before he could finish his sentence. “Nanami is trying his best, so am I. So, you try finding one too.”

“How am I supposed to?” 

“Well I'm sure if you go with a face like this to the art department, people would volunteer in a line.” 

“Same goes with you, why don't you go and ask. I'm sure if you could wear your shirt a little loose you can surely get your clingy ex find a good one." Gojo says in a mocking tone, grabbing his guitar and looping it around his back before leaving the club.

He was sure annoyed, but he will have to find one, geto wasn't in a mood to joke earlier either. Rather than going by himself, he decided to ask shoko get it done for him; he was sure she'd agree for a few packs of cigarettes. 

Walking on his way to the parking lot he texted shoko to meet at their regular cafe. 

“Sup!” 

Satoru smiled knowing shoko could never fail him, even if she didn't agree right away a little guilt trip will do. 

“All good?” 

“Yeah, what do you need?” 

“Just a little favour.” 

“And what that might be?” 

“Get an appropriate artist from the art department. Ren broke his arm and suguru's so down about going himself, ya’ know about his ex,” shoko started grabbing her cup of iced coffee to retreat when gojo slammed two packets of cigarettes on the table. “I've two more packs to offer.” 

Shoko returns to her seat, a big smile on her face. “Okay! Since I'm your empathetic, gracious and compassionate friend, I will try and see what I can get done.” 

“Yes please…” 

“I'm not doing it for cigarettes ya’ know.” 

“Mhmmm” satoru nods his face dramatically.

“Get the other two packets out.” 

“Sure.” 

Satoru knew four packets would get the job done as he parted away from shoko, driving his way back home. 

And the next day when shoko texted him that she got a volunteer and is bringing her to the club, he didn't expected it to be you.

Shoko looped a hand around your shoulders “so this is the club,” chewing a gum, “and this is satoru gojo.” 

“Hi…” you said looking at him, before taking a look at those instruments laying behind. 

It’s you. It's really you. He couldn't believe his eyes yet stood unblinking as if you were some mirage and will fade away once he closes his eyelids.

“Gojo?” Shoko waved a hand infront of his face and realizing he didn't respond to you, he bent his torso bowing to you. 

“Woah,” shoko’s face scrunched up, cringing at his behavior, “when did you start being all formal?” 

You giggled at her comment while satoru hushed her with a series of ‘shut ups’. 

“I'm—” 

“Y/n.” satoru whispered almost as if reminding himself the way your name sounded in his lips. “Y/n, i know.” 

You chuckle at his words, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You know her?” shoko tilted her head at him, not expecting you to be acquainted with him. 

“We went to the same high school.” You say when satoru does nothing but gape at you with dreamy eyes. 

His heart did a whole somersault at your sentence. You remembered him; you remembered his name; you remembered he was in the same high school as you. The fact that you regarded him made him so giddy that he was practically ready to throw his hands up in the air or kiss the floor on which you walk.

“Kay’ I'll leave you guys to talk then.” She smirked before raising a cocky eyebrow at satoru, excusing herself from the club. 

“So…you're the only one?” 

“Huh?”

“In the band— i mean…”

“Oh no” he dragged, “there are two more members along with the back musicians…” 

You humm, taking a proper look at the club. 

“You like it?” 

“It has vibrant colours.” 

Your words echoed in his ears, the same which you said to him at the mall. Oh how bad had he wanted to hear those.

“The jazzies,” you read the name of their band aloud, “why jazzies? You only play jazz?” 

“No…we play all sorts of music…it's just a name suguru chose for the band.” 

“you do originals?” 

“Both originals and covers. Anything suguru comes up with.” 

Your mouth forms a little ‘o’ as satoru explains to you. 

“geto seems to be doing all the stuff, what do you do?” 

“You know him?” satoru’s brows furrowed. “Whom?” you ask.

“geto…geto suguru.” 

“Ofc, he was in the same class as us.” 

“Oh.” 

Ofcourse. Both he and geto were in the same class as you. It was no big deal for you to remember both of them. However, accepting that he wasn't any special was bitter. 

Satoru’s eyes followed your figure as you went out to reach for his guitar, mindlessly drawing your finger on its printed patterns.

“You didn't answer my question…”

“I guess I found you for our band.” 

When none of you says anything, satoru breaks the ice, clearing his throat.

“You know how to play?” 

“Err…no.” 

“I can teach you.” 

He slided his index among the few string instruments before pulling out an acoustic one, bringing it to you. 

“Hold the fretboard with your left hand,” satoru pulled the strap over your shoulders, “and bring your right hand over the body, fingers near the sound hole— yep that's right,” he turned your back to him, gently holding the back of your palms. 

“Now, pluck the chords for me,” his chest was against your back as he guided you through the strings. 

“Like this?” you ask him.

“Yes, you're doing very well.” 

The guitar in your hands, played smoothly as satoru guided you through it. 

Just like when he taught you how to play mario kart. 

Satoru looks down at you smiling in excitement. Oh how cute you looked like that. He could admire you twenty-four seven, never wanting to tear his gaze away, for you're that ineffably eesome in his eyes. 

Time almost ceased when you looked up at him, eyes crinkling with a smile that soon died as red creeps up your cheeks. 

Satoru’s face was mere inches away from you, his eyes wavering down to your lips. 

“SATO—RU— oh,” geto bursted in along with nanami causing you both to flinch. 

He quickly leaves your hand. 

“Y/n??” Geto dragged out your name, looking at you with his eyebrows knitting and lips forming a silly smile. 

“Hi,” you pull the strap over your shoulders abandoning the instrument on the nearby couch. “I'm here to volunteer.” 

“You do?” 

“Yeah…” 

“That's great! I can't believe satoru even managed to talk—” satoru smacked him mid sentence. 

Nanami, for some reason, found the ceilings very interesting today, totally ignoring his two seniors.

Geto explained to you about their little tradition of hand drawn posters and showed you the posters they used for the last concerts. You, then, asked them to send them a group picture of the three and their preferences for colours and themes. 

“For that I might need your number—” 

“I- i can send it to her…” Geto passed a suggestive smile at satoru, which he ignored and awkwardly forwarded his phone to you. 

“Yeah that sounds fine. Here's my number, save it and text me later.” 

“Kky!” 

You pull the sling of your tote bag up to your arm, giving them a little nod, before turning your back to leave. 

“Wait!—” satoru held your arms frantically pulling you back. He hurried to the back near the couch you plopped the guitar and shoved it to you. “T-take it.” 

“Ah— no I can't do that.”

“Take it. You can learn how to play and I- I can teach you.” he tried not to stutter yet failed miserably. 

“No i rea—”

“consider it as a gift— from me.” 

You frowned a bit but agreed anyway. 

“That's really sweet of you satoru! I will wait for your text! Bye!!” 

He waved back to you. 

“What was that?” Geto implies in the direction of the exit door through which you just left. 

“nothing.” 

Later, You sent the photo of the finished banner to satoru. It took you 42 hours to finish it. 

Satoru on the other hand was practicing really hard, totally different from his half hearted performances from the previous ones which wasn't unnoticed by the other members. 

He has to be the best. After all, this concert will be different from the previous ones. This time you will be there to see him, cheer for him, and notice him. 

You soon bring the banner rolled up to the club. “Woah! You really did a great job.” 

“This is much better than ren’s.” says nanami before going back to his drum set, giving you a thumbs up.

“Satoru?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“You liked it?” 

“I loved it. It has vibrant colours.” You giggled at his answer, shifting your direction to his gaze. His fingers seemed to flake off any dust on the surface of your work, handling it so gently. 

It wasn't his fault he felt so overwhelmed. All these years he'd yearned for one kind word from your lips yet he was left starving. 

And now you'd drawn him with such precision, that it was as if you were accustomed to drawing him for the hundredth time. 

His heart fluttered at the thought. 

“I will be there at your concert,” you say, turning your back to him. “All the best!” 

The campus stadium was full with a bunch of students and hippies, it was really hard for satoru to try locating you amongst the sea of crowds. 

The music rang loud, brisking fiery cheers from the crowd, full of vim and vigor. The spotlight shone on the three— geto with his vocals and string of bass; satoru with his acoustic guitar; and nanami with his drum set. 

The crowd roared in excitement as music coursed through their veins. 

Will you be cheering too? 

Satoru raised his head from the guitar, plucking chords effortlessly, to his audience. 

And as if it was fate that drew both of you together, his eyes found yours. You were there in the vip section, along with shoko and another girl. You were moving with beats, swaying your arms in rhythm to their music. 

His eyes locked in yours as you waved a hand at him. Oh how, how pretty you looked. Everything except you was a blur to him. 

The crowd goes even more wild, seeing satoru blush, not sensing it was you who caused it. 

The concert continued till past midnight as the vibrations thrumming around the air slowed and wrapped up with their ending song: “Where Our Blue Is.”

As the applause slowly start to dissipate, satoru pulled off his instrument, running to the edge of the stage, and hopped down the raised platform. 

The college girls shrieked baffled, some even reached out, grabbing on his wrists and clothes. He politely got out of their grip making his way to the vip section, geto and nanami following him. 

The still air felt electric as he approached you. 

“you liked the show?” 

“Ofc it was amazing!!” The girl beside you answers in your stead, whom he now recognised as yura.

“It was really good.” you say swallowing a laugh bubbling up your throat at his huffed out appearance. 

“Thanks to your banner, it even attracted more audience.” geto remarked, placing his arm around satoru’s shoulders.

“Thank you.” 

“You should thank me for bringing her in.” Shoko reclaims, looping her hand around your arm, “let's go steal some shots.” 

“Oh no i can't— i don't drink. And I need to hurry back home it's late.” 

“Kyaahh— you've let me down y/nniee. Only two packets of cigarettes can get my mood uplifte—” 

“I will bring it tomorrow.” You say shutting up her whines. 

“kk bye and text me when you get home the rest are joining me right ?”

“Count me out. I'll be driving her home tonight.” Satoru says sheepishly, ignoring the smirks and exchanged looks of his bandmates, a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

“No but I was about to go home with her —” yura interrupts.

“Satoru’s fine. You're coming with us.” Shoko dragged her along with geto and nanami, which satoru was glad of. 

Finally he'd be alone with you.

He guided you to the parking lot from the back of the stage, before getting his car keys out. 

It's metallic jingle echoing softly as he presses the button on his key fob. The car responds with a soft beep unlocking as satoru opens the passenger door, holding it open for you. 

“Here,” he gestures with his other hand, “get in.” 

“Sure.” You say gulping thickly.

The thick smell of your cologne mingling with the leather scent of the car.

He closes the door before sprinting to the other side, getting himself in. “Don't— ” he stops you when you reach out for your seat belt. “Allow me the honor” his finger brushes against your skin as he reaches out for the seat belt. 

Your heart practically jolts at his action. 

The click of the seat belt buckle echoes softly in the quiet car, as he straightens back to his former position. 

“Where do you live?” He clears his throat, starting the car engine and flicking on the headlights before pulling out the car into the driveway. 

“In the downtown.” 

“That's quite far from the campus, how bout I drive you everyday back home?” His eyes suggestive, making you chuckle.

“I can't let you do that.”

“Why?” 

“Since it's far from the campus and you won't be visiting often.” 

“Who knows, I might be visiting your place often.” 

You turn your face from the window to look at him. 

“What?” 

“I will have to— to teach you guitar.” 

You crack up at his silliness, finding yourself melting again.

“Okay fine. But that still doesn't counts.” 

“Why not!” 

Since that day, satoru did visited you often, sometimes barging in with shoko and sometimes alone teaching you how to play guitar, plucking on chords and notes. 

And you attended all of his concerts. Their previous artist has recovered now and has resumed his work, so you no longer work with them. However they insist you tag along each time and it's not like you complain. 

You liked satoru’s company. He was handsome, charismatic and popular. You'd watched him your entire high school. He was the one of most popular students, good in a millions of things, starting from academics to being athletic. He'd win every sports competition and even participate in all the extracurriculars. You'd admired him for he could do the things which you didn't had the courage for. 

You liked how he didn't judge people, helped them in their need, and even took care of those garish flowers nobody seemed to double take.

You'd previously met him before high school, though he never brought that up. You wondered if he even remembers the day at the mall. You wanted to ask him so bad, however—

Your world was only limited to papers and paints.

So you painted. 

You painted him so many times that you'd have more than five sketchbooks with paintings full of him.

You wanted to be friends, maybe even more than friends.

But that didn't matter now. He was near you and you would do anything to keep your thumping heart in control and not have satoru cut you out of his life. 

But how can you?

How can you control it when satoru so gently, so lovingly, takes your hand in his. When he smiles so sweetly at you. When he teaches you how to pull chords and other instruments. When he drops you home from college almost everyday. When he hugs you and tells you to take care. 

How are you supposed to be just friends when he's so overly affectionate to you?

Or maybe it's just your overthinking.

Satoru was always polite and sweet, he'd always been sweet to others and you were no special. 

“What are you thinking baby?”

You come out of your daze, rolling your eyes at the nickname.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that…” 

“Not my fault you aren't paying attention to me…” he pulls you closer to him, resting his face on your shoulder. 

“Have you always been this hungry for attention?” you ask, getting yourself comfortable abandoning the guitar beside you on the couch— of the club.

“I've been starving.” 

You cringe at his words. Satoru has another concert today and they just finished practicing an hour ago and now they are taking a break. 

Geto and nanami and other back artists wanted to get some fresh air so they left you and satoru alone to entertain each other. 

“Are you really skipping on me?” He looked at you with puppy eyes. 

“I've a gallery exhibition tomorrow.” You need to scoot back home to get ready for it. It's a big event for you to showcase your arts. 

Satoru hummed, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, “I'll be there. You're going to do great.” 

An uncertain lump forms in your throat, hard to swallow, you say nothing. Your heart was in a conflict again, no matter what you can absolutely not—

“I will be going then. All the best for your concert.” 

You push satoru away, reaching for your tote bag from the side of a random arm chair. “Wait I will drop—” 

“Who's leaving?” shoko barges in with yura and others. 

Satoru points at you. 

“I just got here. You can't leave already.”

“Yup! Yup! Please stay a little longer, baby. I'll drop you back home, no worries.” 

Shoko exchanges suggestive glances with geto and they somehow persuade you to stay a little longer.

They start practicing for another round when shoko pulls your head closer, “what do you think about gojo?” 

“Huh?!” You shout over the music, unable to hear her. 

She grabbed your hand and pulled you outside, with Yura following closely behind you both.

“What— “ 

“What do you think of gojo?” 

A burning sensation hits you slowly as shoko’s question registers in your mind.

You ears turn red. 

“Eh…um h-he’s a nice guy. A nice musician…and—”

“And?” Shoko wiggled her brows at you, a sly smile on her face. 

“A-a nice friend.” 

“Just a friend?” You nod at her, seemingly more embarrassed at her implications. 

Shoko's face literally radiated disappointment. It was as if someone told her that cigarettes are now banned in the country. “I think he's interested in you,” you choked on air at her remark. “No?” 

Yura shrugged. 

The music slowed down and then paused, bringing your conversation to a momentary halt. 

Satoru rushed outside, complaining about why you left in the middle of his practice.

“Bruh, chill, I'm not trying to steal her away from you. We're just talking!” Shoko jokes as you laugh all flustered. 

Just when you were about to leave one of his fangirls suddenly appeared from nowhere and threw herself into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. He stumbled back a step, surprised, before regaining his balance but he didn't put her down rather he spinned her around before setting her back down, with a polite smile on his face. 

The other members just saw the scene unfold with amusement. Nanami was surprised at the fan’s boldness and geto simply observed the scene as shoko rolled her eyes, finding it hysterical.

“What do you think of shoko’s remark?” said yura, looping her hand around your arm. 

“What?” You say suppressing the slow tinge of jealousy. 

“About gojo being interested in you…” 

“I-i don't think so.” 

You try to laugh it off.

“Yeah, he's just polite. To pretty much everyone.” 

Her words felt like a splinter to your heart. You shouldn't feel like this. It'd happened before— not now again. 

Yura’s right, satoru is just polite and will do the same for everyone what he does for you— because he's kind. And you're no special.

The entire ride was silent. Satoru kept asking you if anything was wrong but you just guised a smile at him, insisting it was nothing.

The next day at the gallery event, you behaved oddly. You smiled at him but  didn't reach your eyes, your answers to his question were of one word, even avoiding his touch. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked warily.

“No.” 

Days passed by and you distanced yourself more from him. 

Satoru, on the other hand, was almost losing his mind. His world turned upside down. You stopped coming to his concerts, ignored his texts and even refused to let him drop you back home. 

It was yesterday you’d allowed him to teach you the guitar yet today you behaved as if you'd long forgotten him. You were cold and distant, leaving him puzzled by his own thoughts upon your sudden change in demeanor. 

He couldn't help but wonder whether he'd done something that made you this upset? 

You'd said it was nothing.

Then why?

What the fuck did he messed up?

Satoru missed you terribly and violently.

He eyed you from the inside of his car parked a bit far from your department. Today was another day you refused his offer to drive you to class. ‘I'm kinda sick so I won't be going.’ This was what you'd texted him the morning and yet there you were getting off your uber. 

You lied to him. 

“Come with me to their concert today.” Shoko urged you, her lips pursed in a thin line. 

“I'm sorry—”

“No you're not so sorry. Tomorrow’s Saturday, come with me, gojo’s getting mad without you.”

You suck in a breath at the mention of his name.

“What's wrong?” shoko says sipping the last of her drink before plopping it on your tea table. 

“Nothing.” 

“Then come.”

You agreed eventually. Attending the concert won't be a big deal. 

And it wasn't, except for satoru’s piercing gaze burning holes in your back. You accompanied Shoko backstage and casually greeted everyone— including him. 

“God, haven't seen you in so long.” geto side hugged you as nanami gave you a nod of acknowledgement before running off to the stage for some last minute preparations. “Satoru missed you like crazy.” 

You attempt a weak smile in satoru's direction, darting a hesitant glance his way. His gaze was fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable, almost giving shivers down your spine. 

One of the other members suddenly hurried over to Geto, urgently speaking about some issue, he politely excused himself and exited the room, closely followed by Shoko. Now, you were left alone with Satoru, the only two remaining in the room. 

“I should go and check what's the proble—” you try sprinting your way out the door, “wait—” when satoru stops you. 

His hand on your arm, preventing you to go any further and when you struggle to get out of his grip, he tightens his grip even more slamming you to the wall,  pinning you caging your body. 

“What's wrong with you?” 

“Gojo you're hurting m—” 

“Gojo?” His voice cracked, grip losing before letting your arms go, “why? Why must you do this to me?” 

“Do what?” You drift your gaze away unable to look at satoru, who's this close tearing up.

“This— why must you do this? Why must you ignore me? Why must you be distant from me? Why must you lie to me so that I won't bother picking you up or dropping you home? Why must you reject my affection?” He sucks in a breath “You know I can't live like that—” 

“why?” 

“Don't pretend like you don't know…” 

“no no don't say it,” you throw your hands up in the air frantically, “don't— I can’t fall again…no— I know you're just being polite and you will do this for anyone, but I can’t help it if I don't—”

“I love you—” he whispers, bringing your hand up, placing the palm flat to his chest.

“No you don't.” 

“Yes I do— what do you mean you can't fall again,” he suppresses your struggles of wrenching free your hand from his grip. “You have no idea how crazy I'm for you. I love you and I've loved you since I was 17. I was about to confess to you on our graduation day but you just disappeared leaving me alone. And now that I have you I'm not letting you go— make no mistake baby, if there's anyone I’d ever kneel for— it'd be you.” 

Thick silence covered the entire room, except your heavy exhales. Satoru gojo was inches close to you, your hand still laid flat against his heaving chest. 

“B-but I wrote you a note confes—” 

“What note? I never….” confusion twisted on his face bitterly. 

“You threw it in the dustbin— the one I wrote to you the day before graduation.”

His face told the truth, as he shook his head denying it. He never received any note from you— nevertheless having the audacity to throw it in the trash when he'd been hopelessly in love with you all these years.

“Yura told me—” you shut your mouth as the realization hits you. The person whom you considered as a friend backstabbed you long ago. 

She lied about him discarding it while it was actually her who had stolen it off his desk before satoru even noticed.

Your head raised in embarrassment, ready to apologize for the misunderstanding when suddenly, Satoru's lips met yours in a tender kiss. The kiss was filled with such affection and tenderness that you felt as if you might melt in his embrace. His arms held you close, firmly yet gently, as he deepened the kiss. Your heart pounded in your chest as you responded to his kiss. All thoughts of the misunderstanding were forgotten in that moment of pure intimacy before satoru pulled away with frowned brows and a dazed smile. 

“Tell me, would I kiss anyone the same way I kiss you?” he pulled you again, smacking his lips on yours as he snaked a hand around your waist, the other, still firm, holding your palm. 

You could feel his heartbeat going rapid the more he deepens the kiss, sucking on your upper lip. 

He pulls away again.

“Tell me, would my heart beat the same way as it beats around yours?” He smacks his lips again, this time pinching your waist making you gasp as he slips his tongue in.

His hand fumbles with the hem of your dress, pulling away again, a string of drool connecting both of your lips. “Would I be breathless the same way as I'm now?” 

His hand travels up your inner thigh, till it reaches the wet blotch of drenched silk. You grasp his shoulders, when he starts drawing circles over the fabric, smirking before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. 

“Satoru, what if someone walks in—” your body jolts, nails digging into his back as he pulls the fabric to the side, plunging a digit in without any warning. “Let them…” he goes back to sucking your skin while rubbing his thumb over your swollen clit. 

Your teeth sank on your bottom lips, his finger slowly plunging in and out of you. “Nngh ‘toru, you’re—” small trembles quivered through your body as he plunged with a faster rhythm. 

“Shh baby! Let me take you” he inserts another digit as your teeth dug even deeper into your lip, stretching you and filling you so well. 

He was stroking you, curling his fingers inside until hitting your most sensitive spot. Sweat beaded your forehead as your trembles gave way to full body shudders, shutting your mouth with your hand not wanting to be loud. 

Satoru drew himself back from your neck, satisfied marking and suckling, withdrawing his digits, slick from you as you wince at the loss of his fullness. 

He brings them up and sucks your essence off his fingers with a pop. “I want to eat you out.” 

Before even you can make out his words he kneels down bunching up the fabric to your hips pulling your panty down properly and latching onto your swollen clit. 

“Fuck ‘toru.” he lapped his tongue on your clit, drawing circles, tasting your sweet before drawing himself back, “I am fucking you baby.” He says, licking a fat stripe on your vulva, his rigid tongue swiping back and forth over your clit sending sensations that make your body jolt. “Here and raw” he hummed against your pussy, his breath warm and hot sending vibrations to your core, before vacuuming on your clit. 

Your hand grasping his hair, as he worked on your orgasm.

He plunged his digits again, rhythmatic with the little pants escaping your mouth, along with the slick sounds of your hips buckling down his fingers. 

He smirked internally at your enthusiasm.

“So fucking nasty for me huh?” He said against your pussy, licking and sucking till you were nothing but withering in mindless pleasure. You were taking it well, suppressing your moans into breathless pants until he sucked, fingers pressing the most sensitive spot inside you. 

A shriek fell past your lips, knees buckling, followed by a string of moans and whimpers. “Oh— fuck..” you try closing your thighs which he prevents with his iron grip of one hand, forcing it open till he has better access. “Don't even dare closing on me…” 

The wet sounds of his fingers, plunging in and out of your gummy walls, echoed throughout the empty room.

Something coiled hot and fuzzy in the lower pit of your stomach. You clenched hard around his finger, when the bass-heavy beats of the band's concert began, causing you to involuntarily shove satoru’s face deeper into your cunt as you heard voices from the stage outside. 

Geto's unmistakable voice rang out, accompanied by the heavy drumming of nanami. They had started performing without satoru. 

“Nn’toru they start—” your voice died down into a breathless gasp as you felt your pelvic muscles clench, tension looping around your entire body as fiery sensations erupted. You arch your back against the wall, unable to stop your toes curling at the intensity of his tongue lapping, finger fuckin' you, as your vision gets blurry. 

“Yeah…cum for me baby” his velvety murmurs were all it took for you to turn into a mess of sensations, your body erupting as your high came down bursting, dripping and spilling down your thighs, his chin and his neck. 

Satoru lapped up the drops carelessly strewn about your skin, his tongue tracing a path along the droplets splattered on your inner thighs as he savored everything with anticipation.

“Tell me, would I kneel infront of anyone and let them cum this hard on my fingers?” He straightened himself up, “and then drink it up like a pussy drunk male whore?” his gaze never left yours, wiping the leftover slick with the back of his hand before licking it clean.

The music from outside has now gained its intensity, thrumming even louder.

No— you mouthed. 

Satoru’s gaze was still fixed at you, when he unzipped his pants, his aching cock sprang out red, already leaking precum. 

You gape at his girth. 

It was big.

And fucking thick. 

Leaning in, Satoru brings his lips close to your ear, his voice clear over the blaring music from outside, “Like what you see—”

You didn't get to answer him before he slammed right in. 

A cry of pleasure tore from your throat, as you loop your hands around his neck, nails digging on his back.

He hissed out a breath, restraining himself from moving till you adjusted to his size. 

Only then did he slowly pull it out leaving only the tip inside. You grimace at the loss of fullness until he slams back in causing you to clench around him. 

He let out a low guttural moan which was almost inaudible to you over the roar of music if you weren't so close to each other, feeling the raw desire of his voice vibrating on your skin.

“Tell me— hahh- would I let anyone clench this hard on me if this weren't you?” 

You were at a loss for words. 

The kind, polite, sweet satoru you knew was gone. In his place was someone who fucked hard. 

When you don't answer he pulls out and slams right back in harsh, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. 

Satisfied, satoru guides his one hand to tapping on your thigh suggesting you wrap your legs up around him. 

He repositions his dick on your entrance, before supporting your weight with one hand, pinning your body completely to the wall, while the other hand grabs your neck, choking you before giving you a sloppy breathless kiss. 

“You like it don't ya’ hmm fuck— so tight—” 

Your cries came out choked as he pounded into you, in an insane manner, desperate and primal.

“Tell me—” 

Thrust 

“do you—” 

Thrust 

“still think I'm just being polite?”

Thrust.

The roar of geto's voice singing out aloud different notes masked out the filth of your moans. 

The sensation was in again, hot and uproar, coiling beneath the core of your consciousness. Satoru sensed you being close to your climax, continued to plow into your pussy, now supporting your weight with both hands against the wall. 

Your toes curled again, nails digging down his back almost scratching the fabric, “yes that's it love,” your eyes rolled back as you arch your neck unable to handle the pleasure, “cum for me…” 

Your mouth forming a little ‘o’, mind eyes seeing stars. The only consciousness left in your body directed you to the burning of your heat, till it came crashing down.

You came hard letting your head fall on his shoulders too spent for anything.

Satoru too chased his high, thrusting into your swollen pussy, his cock twitching inside you, till you felt him getting sloppy and tense before cumming into you.

The music was still very loud, beats thrumming your flushed veins. 

None of you said anything, remaining in the same position. Satoru pulled himself out, his cum dripping out your vagina, before walking over and placing you on a nearby chair. 

He cleaned you up gently tugging your clothes back and fixes himself before cleaning the mess near the wall. 

“They— they started performing without you…” you huff out, drained still in the very euphoria of your pleasure satoru showed you. 

“I told them to do so…” he shouted over the noise. 

You remain stunned for a while, letting out a breath. “I'm sorry…I avoided you.” 

“Here I thought you were giving me a thousand kisses as an apology.” 

You chuckle at him, back to his normal self— your sweet, kind and maybe not so polite satoru…

He came over to you, lifting you effortlessly before plopping himself down on the chair with you on his lap. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“No but I missed you like crazy…” he pouted. “y/n be my girlfriend…please.” 

Tears start forming in your eyes, overwhelmed, you never thought the satoru gojo you met at the mall, the satoru gojo you loved your entire high school would someday ask you to be his girlfriend.

To paint his heart with your love.

“I will.” 

“no wait— marry me instead!”

You dug your face deeper into his chest, laughing at his playfulness. And satoru just smiled.

Finally he would be yours. 

you and Satoru started dating since then and things couldn't have been any better for him. He practically announced to the world that you were his girlfriend, always picking you up and dropping you off from campus, and claiming a kiss as his reward. You’d also cut Yura off, not wanting any more negativity in your life. Satoru was yours, and you were his. And He couldn't be any happier.

Tags: @cccandynecklaces @secretfankoala

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[dreamescapeswriting]

Exposed ~ BC

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.4

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Chan x reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationship, angst, soft ending, chan being protective boyfriend, your relationship is leaked,

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

It started off like any other day. Everything felt normal when you woke up, you and Chan had kissed goodbye like you did every single day before work and everything had been as it should have.

The usual hum of the office buzzed around you, and you sat at your desk with a smile, still laughing with your colleagues about a ridiculous moment that happened during the morning meeting.

“I can’t believe he actually said that,” you chuckled, glancing at your friend across the desk. You couldn't believe one of the interns had taken over the meeting after your boss had left, acting as though he'd know exactly what he was talking about... newsflash...he didn't.

“Does he even know what ‘synergy’ means?” you giggled a little and your friend, Sarah, shook her head, trying to keep her laughter under control.

“He’s just throwing words around to sound smart. I thought we were all going to lose it when he started talking about optimizing our optimized optimizations.” The two of you burst into laughter again, drawing curious glances from the people nearby, glares soon followed and you rolled your eyes. It was one of those lighthearted mornings—work felt manageable, and the little stresses of life were nowhere to be found.

Even your secret life with Chan didn’t feel overwhelming today, sometimes it felt hard to hide that part of your life from everyone you knew at work. But for nearly four years, you had both kept your relationship perfectly hidden, enjoying your time together away from prying eyes. You didn't care that you had to hide it, you understood why since life with an idol wasn't going to be all it was made out to be in the fanfictions you sometimes found yourself reading.

"Poor thing, maybe we should invite him to lunch though, just so we don't make him feel isolated," you told her as she nodded along with you. The last thing you wanted was to be mean to someone who clearly was trying his best here.

Soon the laughter died down, and you leaned back in your chair, reaching for your coffee. It was still warm—just the way you liked it. Everything felt routine. Normal.

But normal didn’t last.

Your phone, sitting innocuously beside your keyboard, buzzed once. Then again. And again. It wasn't like you to get so many notifications unless your friend was off from work and spammed you with reels so you bit down on your lip. You weren't exactly allowed your phone out so you glanced at it briefly, expecting a couple of messages from Chan or maybe a group chat blowing up. But the notifications were relentless.

Your brow furrowed as you picked up the phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the flood of messages—dozens of notifications on social media, texts from unknown numbers, and even missed calls. Confusion turned to panic as you scrolled through the chaos, trying to make sense of it all.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, noticing the sudden change in your expression. Before you could answer, another notification popped up on your screen—a tagged post from one of Chan’s members. Your stomach dropped as you read the caption:

CHANGBIN(jutdwae): "Congratulations on four years! You two deserve all the happiness."

You blinked, reading it again to make sure you weren’t imagining things. Not only was there the captain and tag of your Instagram there were countless images of you and Chan together.

No, this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a mistake. But the fans knew. They had pieced it together. The relationship you had kept under wraps for years was now out there for the world to see.

Your phone was going insane and there was no way you were going to be able to get into contact with Chan at this rate so you slid the phone into DND mode.

“I—uh, I have to go,” you mumbled, standing up from your desk, but your legs felt weak, your mind racing. There was no way this was happening, Changbin was usually more careful than this. What was he thinking?!

Your coworkers had started to murmur, glancing at their own phones, probably seeing the same posts and comments. Some of them gave you sympathetic looks, others were confused, staring at you to make sure that you were the person you claimed to be.

"Yn, wait." Sarah sounded panicked as she walked with you, holding your lower back as she shook her head at you,

"What's wrong-" That’s when you noticed it. Outside, through the wide office windows, a crowd had gathered. A large one. The people were holding their phones, taking pictures, pointing. You could hear the muffled sounds of their voices growing louder.

Oh no.

“Y/N, talk to me...What’s going on?” Sarah asked, standing beside you, worry etched into her features. You swallowed the lump in your throat, Sarah knew you were seeing someone you couldn't talk about...someone well-known in the media but she'd respected you when you couldn't tell her who.

“Fans,” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the window. You had no idea how you were even going to get out of there with that mess building up outside.

“They know. About me and Chan.” Sarah’s eyes widened in shock at the name. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words were drowned out by the sudden realization that the fans weren’t just outside—they were here for you and clearly weren't just going to walk away anytime soon.

Your phone rang suddenly, startling you out of your daze. It was Chan. Thanks to him being in your favourites he was the only number able to get through to you,

“Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so, so sorry. I swear we’re trying to fix this,” his voice was panicked, almost breathless. You knew his management were going to do everything that they could to make this all go away but you were still stuck,

“I’m at work, Chan,” you whispered, struggling to stay calm. You knew how crazy people seemed to be when it came to idols but you had no idea it was going to end up like this,

“There are fans outside. How do they even know where I am?” He cursed under his breath, and you could hear the tension in his voice. He said something to someone in the room before he bit down on his lap,

“Stay inside. Don’t go near them. I’m coming to get you.” He told you but you heard arguing on the other end of the line, Chan's voice raising as he yelled back at whoever was yelling at him.

"Chan..." you whispered, you already knew what he was going to say next. There was no way JYP was going to let him walk out of that building to come and save you.

“I’m at the company, but they’re not letting me leave. There’s media everywhere outside, and they won’t let me out,” he sounded helpless, something you weren’t used to hearing from him. Chan was always calm and composed, but now he was frantic, desperate to fix this. You hated that he was in this mess right now and you weren't right there to support him throughout it.

“I know you've got shit to deal with...B-But Chan, I don’t know what to do,” you admitted quietly, your hand shaking as you pressed the phone to your ear. Tears were building up in your eyes at the thought of walking outside and being mobbed...What if one of them hurt you? You were sure STAY wouldn't but there were some fans just crazy enough to try,

“It’s really bad, Chan.” You whispered as you saw people banging on the windows and screaming. There were police doing what they could to disburse the crowd but it wasn't exactly something that was just going to go away with a snap of their fingers.

You could hear him pacing on the other end, muttering to himself, trying to figure out a solution.

“I���ll call someone. I’ll get you out of there. Just... just stay away from the windows. I’ll figure this out.” At that moment, your boss appeared beside you, his expression serious as he glanced out at the growing crowd outside the building.

"Chan, my boss is here..." You kept your eyes on your boss who seemed worried about all of this,

"Baby, I promise you I'm going to fix this...T-Text me...or something, please...Please," The desperation dripping from Chan's voice made your chest tighten,

"Sure...I will, baby, I gotta go...I'll be okay."You promised before ending the phone call. Your boss straightened his tie, Jason wasn't usually known for being overly caring about his employees but right now he looked worried for you. As did a lot of other people inside of the office,

“Y/N, we need to get you out of here. Follow me,” he said softly, motioning toward a side exit. You looked back at your desk—at the normalcy you had only moments ago—and then at the chaos outside. Your heart pounded as you nodded at your boss.

Your boss led you through a hallway toward the back exit, shielding you from the chaos outside.

"Sarah is going to go outside with a hood up, she'll distract them long enough for you to make it to the car." Your boss explained as he walked with you hurriedly toward the parking lot. A lot of the focus was on the front doors as screams erupted.

When you finally reached your car and made it home you figured all of this mess would be over. That you could hold up inside of the house and forget this whole thing had happened but as you pulled up it was clear that wasn't on the agenda for the night. You froze at the sight in front of you. Your apartment was swarming with people—fans, stalkers, media. They were everywhere. Cameras were shoved in your windows as people scrambled to get the smallest information about you from them.

You couldn’t go home. Your home was overtaken by fans who luckily hadn't noticed your car yet so you started driving and with trembling fingers, you called Chan again.

“I can’t go home,” you told him as you did your best not to cry. There was no way you could drive if you were crying. Chan's silence was deafening. You knew he felt responsible, that he was desperate to fix this, but there was nothing he could do right now.

“I’m getting you a hotel, no one will know okay?” Chan finally said. You could hear him typing on his laptop and you bit down on your lip at the thought of it. You were never going to have your normal life again,

“Stay there tonight. I’ll come to you first thing in the morning, I promise.” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. You trusted him—he would fix this. But for now, all you could do was hide away, waiting for the storm to pass.

"I love you, Channie." You whispered as you continued to drive aimlessly until he gave you the directions.

"I love you too, I'm going to sort this...I'm not going to let you get dragged down." He promised before sending you all of the details you were going to need.

"I've booked it under Patricia Kennedy, no one will trace it to us," He said as you smiled softly at the thought of using a fake name, like some kind of spy.

Hours had passed, and even though the hotel room was silent, your mind was anything but. The dark curtains were drawn tight, shutting out the world outside, but it didn’t stop the gnawing anxiety in your chest. You had blocked the door with a chair, even though you knew it was overkill, but after everything that had happened today, you couldn’t help it. The thought of anyone else finding you made your skin crawl.

Your phone was still on DND and didn't dare try to see if you had phone calls from friends. All you knew was that your phone was close to death thanks to it overloading with numbers. You'd managed to private all of your social media accounts and uninstalled them to stop some of the notifications, and you'd tried to call your phone provider to block unknown numbers but there was too much for them to handle.

You sat curled up on the bed, your phone clutched tightly in your hand as you waited for Chan, he had called to tell you he was on his way, but time seemed to stretch, each minute dragging slower than the last. Even in the safety of the hotel, the fear refused to let go.

A knock came at the door, sharp and sudden.

Your heart jumped to your throat, and your grip tightened on the phone as you stared at the door. It was just a knock, but your body froze. What if it wasn’t him? What if someone had followed him here? What if—

“It’s me, baby. It’s Chan.” His voice came through the door, soft but certain.

“Please open the door.” You hesitated, your hand hovering over the door handle. A part of you was still scared, irrational thoughts swirling in your head. You couldn’t help it—the day had been too overwhelming, with too many eyes on you, and too much chaos.

"Yn, I promise, it’s just me. Please,” Chan’s voice was gentle but urgent, trying to calm your panic from the other side. He tapped on the door once again and you stared at the handle.

“I’m here now.” You exhaled shakily and, after a long pause, slowly removed the chair from the door and unlatched the lock. With trembling hands, you cracked the door open, just enough to peek out. The sight of Chan’s concerned face melted away some of your fear. He looked stressed and exhausted, his hair was in all kinds of directions and he looked unkept which wasn't like him at all,

“Hey,” he said softly, offering a small, reassuring smile. You stepped back and let him in, closing the door quickly behind him. As soon as the door shut, Chan’s arms were around you, pulling you into a tight, protective embrace. His familiar warmth was the only thing grounding you, and for the first time since the day started, you felt a tiny bit of safety. You hid your head in his neck and did your best not to cry, you didn't want to make him feel any worse than he already did about all of this,

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled against his chest, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know if it was you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. He stroked your back softly, he would have done the same thing if he was in your position.

“You’ve had a terrible day. I’m just glad I’m here now.” He gently pulled back to take a look around the room. His eyes landed on the tightly shut curtains, the chair you had used to block the door. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see the worry etched in his face.

“You blocked the door?” he asked softly, though there was no judgment in his tone, only concern. You nodded, feeling a little embarrassed, you scratched the back of your neck as you glanced over at him.

“I didn’t want anyone getting in.” Chan reached out, pulling you back into his arms as if he could protect you from everything. There were already plans in motion to get a guard for you, there were some stationed all over the hotel as he stood there.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he whispered. “No one’s getting in here but me. I promise.” You leaned into him, letting out a shaky breath.

“I feel like I can’t breathe. Every time I think it’s over, it’s just... not.”

“I know,” Chan said softly, rubbing gentle circles on your back. The two of you had hidden for four years, and this was something you'd talked about but nothing could have prepared you for it,

“But we’re going to fix this. I’m going to fix this. You shouldn’t have to go through this, not because of me.” You pulled back slightly to look up at him, his expression filled with guilt. You shook your head at him and touched his face softly, running your thumb along his skin.

“It’s not your fault, Chan.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched. He'd already fought with Changbin about it and apologised for it, he knew that accidents happened but he'd been stressed and took it out on the younger member.

“I should’ve been more careful. We’ve kept this a secret for so long, and now—”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “This isn’t on you. It’s just... an accident. It’s no one’s fault.” Chan’s eyes softened as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right,” he promised.

“I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll protect you, okay? I’ll keep you safe.” Tears welled in your eyes, but they weren’t from fear anymore. You knew Chan would do everything within his power - and more - to protect you, you had no doubt in your mind.

“I know,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “I trust you.” Chan pulled you into another hug, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world outside. And for now, in the quiet of the hotel room, that was enough.

Days passed after the chaos of the leak, and things slowly began to settle. The initial frenzy had been overwhelming, but JYP Entertainment had stepped in, issuing a statement about the mistake, and calling for fans to respect your privacy. The company took legal action against those who crossed the line, and while the attention hadn’t completely disappeared, it was manageable now. Your numbers had been changed and you'd managed to delete most of the followers who were fans in your social media accounts.

Chan had kept his promise. He had stayed with you every step of the way, ensuring you were never left alone to deal with the aftermath. You spent a few days holed up in the hotel together, the world feeling small but safe as long as you were by his side. You mostly lived in his shirts and off room-serive which had been more fun than you'd been expecting.

One morning, you both sat on the hotel room bed, the soft glow of sunlight peeking through the curtains. The two of you were quiet, sipping on coffee, the stillness a welcome change from the chaos you had endured. It almost felt normal again.

“Are you ready to go home today?” Chan asked, glancing at you with a hopeful smile. You nodded, taking a deep breath, you'd been wanting to stay longer but only because you were enjoying being so close to him.

“Yeah. I think I’m ready.”

“Good,” he said softly.

“I know it's been a lot, but we made it through. I knew we would...” He ran his fingers over your skin softly and you smiled. You looked at him, really looked at him—his face filled with determination and love, he looked better than he did when he first arrived here. Even though things had spiralled out of control, you couldn’t imagine going through this without him by your side.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” you admitted. “You kept me sane.” Chan smiled warmly, setting his coffee cup down before reaching out to take your hand in his.

“We’re in this together, always. Nothing’s going to change that.” You squeezed his hand, feeling the truth in his words. After everything, you knew your relationship was stronger than ever. The world might have learned your secret, but it hadn’t broken what you had—it had only made you closer.

As the two of you stood, getting ready to head back home, Chan paused and turned to face you.

"I love you...okay? Them knowing, changes nothing. I promise you that we'll get into a routine," He told you as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly.

"I know baby, I love you too." You wrapped your arms around him and he backed you up toward the bed again making you giggle.

"Maybe we can spend a few more hours locked away though," He whispered in your ear.

[majinbangus]

》 18+ I think he'd be freak enough

You're guzzling down your water, cooling down from your workout, when you notice him staring with a strange intensity that's never been directed at you before. It's unnerving and weird, but mostly, it's piercing. Almost like he wants to kill you. Or kiss you.

But the latter doesn't make sense because he's never given any indication that he's attracted to you. Not that he wants to kill you, either, but it's the more likely option than him wanting to kiss you. You're not that delusional.

You hurridly gulp down the last bits of water, intending to strategically use your bottle to block yourself from his gaze. If you can't see him, he can't see you. Logical, right? And foolproof.

... Except for the part where you end up over-tilting the bottle until cool liquid spills onto the corner of your mouth and trickles down your chin. Like an idiot.

"What?" You glide your tongue across your bottom lip, trying to act cool. As if your chin isn't a wet mess. Best to roll with the punches. "Why're you staring at me like that?"

In retrospect, you should've taken the hint he wasn't going to answer you in the traditional sense.

Before you can react, he reaches out to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb, somehow staring harder as you struggle to remain nonchalant.

"Um, what-"

You inhale sharply when he leans in and licks you. His tongue captures the water that dribbled down your chin, and your heart rate kicks into high gear. You're suddenly aware of how terribly warm your cheeks are, and you know it's not from the lingering effects of your workout.

His tongue is warm. And wet. That little fact shouldn't be surprising, but it's something you're realizing with increasing awareness. You should stop him. This is inappropriate and unprofessional. He fucking licked you out of nowhere-

But.

You can't bring yourself to push him away. He seems to know it, too, because he makes a smug noise and tightens his grip, jerking you a little closer like you're his to manhandle and do with what he pleases. And you just let him.

When he finally pulls away, you feel like you can breathe again.

"Thanks for the drink, love." He smirks at your dazed expression, and all you can do is nod.

"Uh-huh."

Then, when it's apparent you're not gonna respond negatively, he lets go of your chin and pointedly cups your cunt. "I'm still a little thirsty; think I can have some more?"

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.

"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"

Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.

Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.

The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."

Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.

Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"

He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.

He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.

I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.

I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.

People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.

I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.

I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!

"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."

Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.

Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.

Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"

Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."

"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"

Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"

Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"

Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.

In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.

Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"

Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.

Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."

Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"

"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."

Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"

"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."

Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"

Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.

In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"

"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.

"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."

Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"

"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."

[theonottsbxtch]

WHAT'S LEFT BEHIND PT.3 | MV1

an: teehee teehee teeheeeeee

summary: when max verstappen left his childhood girlfriend behind to face her career ending injury alone to chase his dreams of being the best bull rider the country has ever seen, he thought it would be easy. except it wasn't, he was back in town and they hated him, for one reason. they hurt their star barrel racer.

wc: 7.1k

part one | part two |

The bar had the usual hum of Friday night energy, filled with locals seeking an end-of-week drink and familiar faces. She hadn’t planned on coming out tonight, but Heidi had insisted, and now here she was, feeling somewhat out of place in her jeans and the flowy top she’d pulled on at the last minute.

“See? I told you we needed this,” Heidi said, nudging her with a grin as they walked in. “You clean up good, girl. You should do it more often.”

She rolled her eyes, though a small smile tugged at her lips. “It’s just a top.”

“Sure, sure,” Heidi teased, “but you know you look good.”

They found an empty booth near the back, away from the louder crowds near the bar. Sliding into the seat, she glanced around, spotting familiar faces scattered throughout the room. This was the place to be on a Friday night, after all—nothing else to do in their small town.

Just as they settled in, she saw Max walk through the door. Her heart skipped for just a second before she forced herself to act nonchalant, her expression cool. He hadn’t seen her yet, thank God, but it wouldn’t be long.

Heidi followed her gaze and let out a low whistle. “Well, well, well. Speak of the devil.”

“Relax, Heidi,” she muttered, sipping her drink to avoid responding too quickly. “It’s no big deal.”

Heidi raised an eyebrow. “No big deal? Town talks, I know he was with you at the Rodeo Grounds”

She gave Heidi a warning glance, not wanting to dive into that conversation just yet. But Heidi wasn’t one to let things go.

“You two seemed pretty... civil when he helped you out apparently,” Heidi continued, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

She shrugged, trying to sound indifferent. “It wasn’t a big deal. I fell, and he helped. That’s it.”

Heidi snorted. “Oh, come on. You don’t just let Max help you if it’s no big deal. What happened?”

She hesitated, but she knew Heidi wouldn’t drop it. “After I fell, he offered to help, and, I don’t know... we talked a bit. It was civil.”

“Civil, huh?” Heidi grinned, leaning in. “I mean, you were both stubborn as mules the last time I checked. That’s progress.”

She huffed. “It’s nothing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“You keep saying that.” Heidi’s voice was teasing, but there was a knowing edge to it.

Before she could reply, Max caught sight of them. His gaze lingered for just a moment longer than it should have, and she quickly looked away, hoping Heidi didn’t notice.

No such luck.

“Ohhh, he’s going to the bar,” Heidi said under her breath, her grin widening. “Act normal.”

“I am normal,” she snapped, her fingers tightening around her drink. She shot Heidi a glare, but Heidi was too busy enjoying the moment to care.

Just as Max approached the bar, a blonde woman with long, wavy hair and a tight shirt slid up beside him. The woman laughed at something he said—or maybe didn’t say—and casually rested her hand on his arm. It was a subtle touch, but it made something tighten in her chest. Jealousy.

Heidi saw it instantly.

“Ahhh, and there it is,” Heidi muttered, smirking. “Jealousy, in all its glory.”

She turned sharply to Heidi, her eyes narrowing. “I am not jealous.”

“Oh, honey,” Heidi replied, shaking her head with a laugh. “You’re jealous. It’s written all over your face. You’re about to snap that glass in half.”

She glanced down at her drink, realising her knuckles were white from how tightly she was gripping it. She set it down quickly, willing herself to relax. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be?”

Heidi shrugged, though her grin didn’t falter. “I don’t know, maybe because a part of you still cares?”

“I don’t care who he talks to,” she muttered, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s none of my business.”

“Sure, sure,” Heidi said, leaning back in her seat, clearly amused. “But you should see the look on your face right now.”

She shot Heidi another glare, but it was more defensive than anything. She hated that Heidi had a point. She hated even more that it bothered her to see Max with someone else. They weren’t together—hadn’t been for years—and yet, seeing that blonde flirt with him made her stomach turn.

Max leaned against the counter, talking with Daniel, Heidi’s boyfriend, who was working the bar tonight. He seemed oblivious to the woman beside him, but that didn’t matter. She was still there, still trying to get his attention, and it was driving her crazy.

Heidi noticed her tension and nudged her playfully. “Come on, don’t let Blondie get to you.”

“I’m fine,” she replied through gritted teeth, but Heidi wasn’t fooled.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Heidi said with a wink. “But if looks could kill, that girl would’ve dropped dead five minutes ago.”

“Shut up, Heidi,” she muttered, grabbing her drink and taking a longer-than-necessary sip.

Heidi grinned, leaning forward on her elbows. “You could always go over there, you know. Show Blondie that you’re still very much in the picture.”

“I’m not in the picture,” she snapped, setting her glass down harder than she intended, letting the bubbles flow to the top. “And I’m not going over there.”

“Okay, okay,” Heidi said, holding her hands up in mock surrender, but there was no mistaking the laughter in her eyes. “But for someone who claims she’s not in the picture, you sure seem to be acting like you are.”

She huffed, staring hard at the table. She didn’t want to care. She didn’t want to feel anything about Max anymore. But the truth was, he still got under her skin, no matter how much she tried to deny it.

Over at the bar, Daniel gave Max a nudge and muttered something under his breath. Max turned slightly, his gaze sweeping the room before landing on their booth. His eyes met hers for a moment, and she quickly looked away, heat creeping up her neck.

Heidi chuckled, leaning in again. “Well, he’s definitely looking. Seems like you’ve still got his attention, whether you want it or not.”

She groaned, rubbing her temples. “This was a bad idea. We should’ve stayed home.”

“Oh, stop,” Heidi said, waving her off. “You’re fine. And for the record, if he’s looking at you like that while some other girl is practically throwing herself at him, that says something.”

She wanted to argue, but she didn’t have the energy. Instead, she slumped back in her seat, trying to ignore the way her heart raced whenever Max glanced her way.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“And you’re in denial,” Heidi shot back with a grin. “It’s a good thing one of us is honest.”

Max’s gaze lingered on her again from across the bar. This time, there was no mistaking the subtle smirk playing at the corners of his lips. She narrowed her eyes, trying to ignore the sudden spike of heat rising through her. She knew that look—it was the same one he used to give her when he was trying to get under her skin.

And then he did it.

Max leaned in closer to the blonde, who was still standing beside him, clearly eager for his attention. He said something—she couldn’t hear exactly what—but the way the woman’s laugh rang out was unmistakable. He flashed a grin, cocky as ever, and the blonde practically melted in front of him, her hand brushing against his arm again.

“Oh, that cheeky fucker,” Heidi muttered from across the table, eyes wide in disbelief. “He’s tryna get a rise out of you!”

She froze for a second, her heart pounding, before scoffing in response. “He’s what?”

Heidi leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You heard me. He saw you looking, and now he’s flirting with Blondie just to push your buttons.”

She clenched her jaw, trying to play it cool, but the blood in her veins was starting to simmer. Max’s smirk had grown just a little wider, and now he was leaning even closer to the blonde, his body language practically shouting look at me.

He wanted to play games? Fine.

“He wants to play that game?” she muttered, shooting Max a glare from across the bar. “Game on.”

Heidi’s eyes lit up with excitement, practically bouncing in her seat. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

With determination in her step, she stood up, grabbing her drink and making her way toward the bar. She wasn’t about to sit back and let Max think he had the upper hand. If he wanted to push her buttons, she’d push right back. Two could play at this game.

“Where you going?” Heidi called after her, barely suppressing a grin.

She turned back, a wicked smile on her face. “To remind him who he’s messing with.”

As she approached the bar, she could feel the weight of Max’s gaze on her, even though he was still pretending to be engrossed in conversation with the blonde. He knew exactly what he was doing, and she had no intention of letting him get away with it.

Sliding onto an empty barstool just a few feet away, she waved over Daniel, flashing him a charming smile. “Hey, Daniel. Can I get another drink?”

Daniel smirked as he handed her a fresh glass. “You sure can. But, uh, what exactly are you up to?”

She leaned in just slightly, her voice low enough so Max could hear if he was listening. “Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the night. It’s been a while since I’ve been out.”

Daniel chuckled, clearly catching on to her game. “Sure. Well, enjoy yourself.”

As Daniel walked away to serve other customers, she casually let her gaze drift to Max and his blonde companion, making sure to look disinterested—but not too disinterested. She could see the blonde’s hand on Max’s arm again, and it made her grit her teeth, but she wasn’t about to back down now.

She leaned back against the bar, crossing her legs and swirling her drink, her body language as casual and confident as she could muster. Max’s eyes flicked toward her once again, and she saw that little spark of amusement in his gaze. Oh, he knew what she was doing. Good.

He turned back to the blonde, his grin widening as he said something that made her laugh again, but this time, she caught the quick glance he threw in her direction afterward. He was testing her patience. Pushing her buttons. And she wasn’t going to let him win.

Heidi’s voice echoed in her head. Game on.

She then leaned back toward the bar, catching Daniel’s attention. “Hey, Daniel.”

He looked up from cleaning glasses, grinning at her. “What’s up?”

“When’s your shift over? Me and Heidi were thinking of heading down to the bull-riding place a few blocks away. We could all go. You in?”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, glancing at Heidi, who had somehow teleported, stood next to her, nodding eagerly beside her. “Oh, hell yeah, we are definitely going,” Heidi chimed in, looking thrilled at the idea.

Daniel’s grin widened, but then his eyes flicked to the back of the bar, where Max was still talking with the blonde, though not as engaged as before. “You want company?” he asked, with a sly look in his eye.

She felt her stomach flip, already knowing what he meant. She hesitated for a second, then shrugged, trying to sound casual. “If you wanna bring him, go ahead.”

Daniel’s smirk grew. “I’ll ask him.”

Turning on his heel, Daniel strolled down the bar toward Max. She watched as they exchanged a few words, Max’s head turning slightly to glance in her direction. For a moment, she wondered if he’d refuse—if he’d let her have the night with no further games. But then, he pushed off the bar, said something to the blonde, and grabbed his hat.

Daniel returned moments later, his grin intact. “He’s in.”

She tried to swallow her unease, feeling the electricity in the air spark again. “Perfect.”

The bull-riding place was exactly what she remembered from the last time she’d been there. Low lighting, the smell of worn leather and sawdust in the air, and the mechanical bull sitting in the centre like a beast waiting to be challenged. A few locals were already taking their turns, each one trying to last longer than the person before.

Heidi nudged her, clearly already in high spirits. “You gonna ride, or are you chicken?”

“Please,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You know I’m no chicken.”

Before she could backtrack, Heidi raised her hand and waved toward the operator. “Hey, Lando! We got a rider over here!”

Lando, the bull-riding operator, grinned as he made his way over. Tall and broad-shouldered with a laid-back charm, he had the kind of easy confidence that immediately drew attention. She knew Lando well enough—he’d been working here as long as she could remember, always running the machine and giving encouragement to the brave (or foolish) souls who wanted to test their skills.

“Hey, ladies,” Lando greeted with a smile. “Who’s ridin’ tonight?”

She took a step forward, flashing him a playful smile. “I am.”

Lando’s eyes lit up, and he let out a low whistle. “Well, well. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you on this thing.”

She shrugged, pretending not to notice the fact that Max had just walked in with Daniel, his eyes immediately locking on her from across the room. “Thought I’d give it a go. See if I’ve still got it.”

Lando chuckled, giving her a once-over before nodding toward the bull. “Alright, let’s get you on, then.”

He moved toward the machine, adjusting the settings, while she turned her back on Max and made her way to the bull. But before she could climb on, Lando stepped in, holding out his hand. “Here, let me help.”

She smiled at him, letting him place his hands on her waist as he guided her onto the bull. The contact was light, easy, but she made sure to laugh softly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She could practically feel the heat of Max’s gaze burning into her back, and she couldn’t help but relish the fact that she was getting under his skin.

Lando grinned up at her as she settled onto the bull. “Ready?”

She smirked. “Always.”

As the machine started up, she focused on staying balanced, the thrill of the ride pushing her adrenaline higher. But out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Max leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching her. His jaw was tight, and his usual playful smirk had faded. She had his attention, alright.

After a few minutes, the machine slowed, and Lando helped her down, his hands lingering just a little too long on her waist. She shot him a smile, laughing as she stumbled slightly, the high from the ride still buzzing in her veins.

“Not bad,” Lando said, his voice low and teasing. “You still got it.”

She caught Max’s gaze again, just in time to see his eyes narrow at the sight of Lando’s hand still resting on her hip.

Good. Let him stew on that.

Heidi sidled up beside her, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re having way too much fun with this.”

She shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “I’m just enjoying myself.”

Heidi chuckled. “Uh-huh. Sure you are. And I’m sure the fact that Max’s over there, glaring daggers at poor Lando, has nothing to do with it.”

She glanced over again, seeing Max’s expression darken as Lando leaned in close to say something to her. She couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t matter. Max had seen enough.

Heidi’s laughter was soft but filled with mischief. “You cheeky fucks,” she whispered, echoing her words from earlier. “He was trying to get a rise out of you, and now you’re doing the same thing.”

She bit back a smile, feeling the thrill of the game once again. “He wants to play? I’m all in.”

As the night went on, she found herself flirting more with Lando, laughing at his jokes, letting her hand brush against his arm as they talked. But no matter how much fun she pretended to be having, she couldn’t ignore the fact that Max was always there, lingering in the background, watching her every move.

At one point, Daniel wandered over to Max, nudging him with his elbow. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she saw the tension in Max’s posture, the way his hands tightened into fists at his sides.

He was jealous. And she couldn’t deny that a part of her liked it.

But then Max pushed off the wall and started walking toward them. Her heart sped up, her mind racing with the thought of what he might say, what he might do.

Before he could get too close, Lando called out to him, breaking the tension. “Hey, Max, you want a go? Haven’t seen you ride here in years.”

Max stopped, his eyes flicking between her and Lando, the tension clear in the air.

For a moment, she thought he might decline, that he’d brush off the offer and leave her alone.

But then he smirked, tipping his hat toward Lando. “Why not? Let’s see if I’ve still got it.” He replied, mirroring her words from earlier.

Her stomach flipped as Max approached the bull, his gaze flicking toward her for just a second before he mounted the machine.

Lando set the bull in motion, and Max rode with the same confidence he always had—easy, smooth, like he belonged up there. The crowd around them cheered as he lasted longer than anyone else had that night.

When the ride finally ended, he hopped off, swaggering back toward her with that cocky grin she both loved and hated.

He stopped just inches away from her, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm on her ear. “Seems like I  still got it too, sweetheart.”

Her heart pounded, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them crackling like a live wire.

After a few more laughs and lingering glances at Max, she excused herself from the group. “I’m gonna hit the restroom,” she said to Heidi, who nodded, caught up in her own conversation with Daniel.

She made her way down the dimly lit hallway, past the crowd and noise, finally reaching the relative quiet near the back of the bar. The pulse of music and laughter faded as she approached the bathroom, but before she could step inside, a hand caught her wrist.

She turned, ready to snap at whoever it was, but her breath hitched when she saw Max standing there, his eyes intense, cornering her in the narrow corridor where no one could see them.

"I know what you’re doing,” he said, his voice low, rough, as if barely keeping his own frustration in check.

She blinked, feigning innocence as she leaned casually against the wall. “I have not one clue what you mean, sweetheart.” The last word dripped with mockery, her smirk playing at the edges of her lips.

Max's jaw tightened, his gaze flicking down the hall as if to ensure they were truly alone. He took a step closer, the air between them buzzing with electricity. “That game you’re playing with Lando,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper. “Flirting with him, letting him put his hands all over you…”

She laughed softly, her eyes bright with amusement. “Flirting? Lando? Oh, darling, we’re just having fun.”

“Cut the crap,” Max growled, his frustration slipping through the cracks.

“Ain’t you just jealous I’m no longer riding you?” Her voice dropped to a sultry whisper as she leaned forward, close enough that her breath ghosted over his cheek. “You should ask that blonde if she wants a ride,” she added with a wink, throwing his own game back at him.

He clenched his jaw, trying to hold onto whatever cool he had left. “I wasn’t affected,” he said, the lie heavy in his voice.

A slow, wicked smile spread across her lips, her eyes glinting with challenge. She took a step closer, the scent of her perfume curling in the tight space between them. She reached out, her fingers brushing the hem of his shirt before finding the cold metal of his belt buckle. In one smooth, deliberate motion, she slid her hand just below the buckle, her fingertips tracing the line of his jeans.

Max’s breath caught, his body tensing under her touch. His hand instinctively shot out to grab her wrist, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in, her lips barely an inch from his ear as she whispered, her voice thick with satisfaction, “Seems like I still have the same effect on you, Max. Pity.”

The warmth of her breath sent a shiver down his spine, and though he wanted to deny it, his body betrayed him. His grip on her wrist loosened, his breath coming heavier than before.

For a second, he looked like he might pull her closer, close the gap between them, but before he could say or do anything, she withdrew her hand, stepping back with a smirk that screamed victory.

Without another word, she turned on her heel, leaving him standing there, his body still humming from the brief contact.

As she walked away, she felt his eyes on her, his frustration rolling off him in waves. The game wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. And they both knew it.

She sauntered back to the bar, her pulse still racing from the charged encounter with Max. The air between them had been thick with tension, and she knew exactly what she was doing—pushing him to the edge, seeing how far she could take it before he snapped. But she wasn’t done yet.

Lando was still by the bull-riding machine, chatting with a couple of regulars when she approached. His face brightened when he saw her, and she could tell by the sly look in his eyes that he had caught onto her little game.

“Back so soon?” Lando said with a playful grin, his eyes flicking over her as she settled next to him.

She smirked, leaning against the fence. “I figured I could use a little more fun tonight.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, glancing briefly over her shoulder, where Max still lingered by the bar, his eyes locked on them. “Ah, I see. You’re having fun alright.” His voice dropped, more serious now, but still amused. “Trying to wind him up, huh?”

She didn’t even try to deny it. “Is it that obvious?”

Lando chuckled. “To someone who knows you? Yeah, it is.”

She shrugged, biting back a smile. “You gonna help me out, then?”

Lando shook his head, laughing softly. “Hell, why not? Can’t say no to a little drama, especially when it involves Max.”

Without missing a beat, Lando stepped closer, his hand brushing the small of her back as he guided her toward the machine again. His touch lingered a little too long, his arm draping casually over her shoulder as they walked. He leaned in closer than necessary, his lips just near her ear as he whispered something she couldn’t even focus on—all she cared about was that Max saw every single move.

When they reached the bull-riding machine, Lando turned her to face him, his hands sliding down to her hips as he steadied her. “You sure you’re up for another ride?” he asked, his tone teasing but loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

She laughed softly, knowing Max could hear, and leaned into Lando’s touch just enough to make it obvious. “I think I can handle it.”

Lando’s hand rested on her waist, guiding her onto the bull again. The whole thing was exaggerated, overly touchy, but she played along, laughing and teasing Lando right back. Every now and then, she glanced over her shoulder, catching Max’s stormy expression as he stood near the bar, watching the scene unfold.

Lando, fully aware of the tension, turned up the flirtation even more. His hand brushed her thigh as she settled into the seat, his grin widening as he stepped back to start the machine. “You look good up there,” he said, winking.

She shot him a playful smile. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

As the machine started up, she could feel the weight of Max’s gaze like a physical thing, heavy and charged. Every move she made felt deliberate, every laugh louder than necessary. And with every second that passed, Max’s frustration seemed to grow, his jaw tightening, his hands gripping the edge of the bar.

Lando helped her off after the ride, his hand once again lingering a little too long on her waist as he pulled her close, laughing about something she didn’t even register. It wasn’t about Lando—it never had been. It was about seeing how far she could push Max before he snapped.

When she finally glanced back toward the bar, she saw the moment Max had had enough. His face was tight, his knuckles white as he set his beer down on the counter. Without a word to Daniel or anyone else, he grabbed his cowboy hat and stormed out of the bar, the heavy thud of the door echoing in the space as it swung shut behind him.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, feeling a strange mix of triumph and something heavier, something that tugged at her heart in a way she didn’t expect. But before she could process it, Heidi was by her side, grinning like the cat who caught the canary.

“I think you won,” Heidi said, nudging her with her elbow, her eyes glinting with amusement.

She tried to act casual, like she hadn’t been watching Max leave or like the whole night hadn’t revolved around getting under his skin. “Won what?”

Heidi raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, come on. Don’t play dumb now. That cheeky fucker was trying to get a rise out of you, and you just sent him storming off like a sulking teenager.”

Daniel wandered over, wiping his hands on a rag. “Yeah, he’s got it bad,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I haven’t seen him look that pissed since high school.”

She shrugged, trying to play it off. “It’s his problem, not mine.”

But even as she said it, a knot tightened in her chest. She should’ve felt victorious. She’d gotten the reaction she wanted—had sent him walking out, angry and frustrated. But instead of satisfaction, there was something hollow about it. Something that felt unfinished.

Heidi leaned closer, studying her face with a knowing look. “You sure about that?”

She forced a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure.”

________________________________________________

The sun was barely peeking through the blinds when Max groaned, rolling over on the couch, his head pounding from the night before. The faint smell of bacon and coffee drifted through the door, making his stomach turn and his head throb even worse.

He cracked one eye open, squinting at the mess of beer bottles scattered on the floor. He’d clearly been trying to drown something—everything, really—after that stunt at the bar last night. Didn’t work, though. He still felt like hell.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by the sound of it creaking open.

“Get your ass up,” Daniel called out, his voice way too chipper for this hour. Max barely managed to sit up, rubbing his temples as Daniel strolled in, carrying a bag of greasy breakfast sandwiches and two coffees.

“You look like shit,” Daniel said with a grin, setting the food on the coffee table and dropping down into the armchair beside the couch.

“Feel like shit too,” Max muttered, blinking through the haze of his headache. “What time is it?”

“Not early enough for how much you drank,” Daniel replied, handing him a cup of coffee. “Here, this should help.”

Max accepted the coffee with a grunt, taking a sip and wincing as it scalded his throat. He set it down, eyes unfocused as last night’s events replayed in his mind. He could still see her—dressed up, laughing with Lando, teasing him, winding him up. She knew exactly what she was doing. And he fell right into the trap, like a fool.

Daniel leaned back in the chair, studying Max for a moment. “You good? Last night seemed... intense.”

Max sighed, running a hand over his face. “I don’t know, man. I thought I was handling it, but seeing her with Lando—hell, seeing her with anyone—” He trailed off, frustration and regret mixing together in his chest.

Daniel didn’t say anything at first, just tore open one of the breakfast sandwiches and took a bite. After a few moments of chewing, he spoke up, his tone more serious than before.

“You know, it wasn’t just Lando that got to you last night.”

Max frowned, looking up. “What do you mean?”

Daniel set the sandwich down, wiping his hands on a napkin. “I mean, you’ve been gone for eight years, man. You can’t just walk back into town, see her for five minutes, and expect everything to go back to normal. It’s not that simple.”

Max exhaled, shaking his head. “I know it’s not simple. But she—she looked happy last night. With him.”

Daniel snorted. “With Lando? She was winding you up. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Max muttered, rubbing his temples again as the headache throbbed. “But it still hurt like hell.”

There was a pause before Daniel spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “You hurt her worse.”

Max froze, his hand dropping from his forehead. He didn’t need Daniel to remind him of that, but hearing it said out loud still felt like a punch to the gut.

“I know I did,” he said quietly. “I know.”

Daniel studied him for a moment before leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. “Do you?”

Max looked up, meeting his friend’s eyes.

“Because, from what I’ve seen,” Daniel continued, “it’s not just that she’s mad at you for leaving. She’s mad because she hasn’t moved on. And maybe she hasn’t let herself move on because of you.”

Max swallowed, suddenly feeling nauseous, and it wasn’t just from the hangover.

“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice rough.

Daniel sighed. “I’m saying, you messed her up more than you realise. She hasn’t dated anyone, Max. Not once, in eight years.”

Max blinked, staring at Daniel like he’d misheard him. “What?”

“You heard me,” Daniel said, his voice calm but heavy. “Not a single guy. Not a date, not a fling, nothing. Hell, she hasn’t even taken anyone home from the bar. And we both know there’ve been plenty of guys who’ve tried.”

Max felt his stomach twist. “But—she seemed fine.”

“She’s good at seeming fine,” Daniel said. “But she’s been shutting people out for years. Everyone around here knows it. You left, and it messed with her.”

Max’s head was spinning, and it wasn’t just from the hangover anymore. Eight years. She hadn’t been with anyone for eight years?

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He felt sick to his core. “I really fucked her up.”

Daniel didn’t argue. He just sat back in his chair, letting the weight of Max’s words settle between them.

“You did,” Daniel said finally. “But you’re here now. So what are you gonna do about it?”

Max stared down at his hands, the coffee in front of him going cold as he wrestled with everything Daniel had just said. Eight years. He’d been running, chasing something that had never mattered as much as she did. And all the while, she’d been here, alone, waiting for something—or someone—who never came back.

“I don’t know,” Max said softly. “I don’t know if I can fix it.”

Daniel leaned forward again, his voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t get to decide that. She does. But if you want even a shot at making things right, you need to stop playing these games. Stop acting like you’re just here to stir shit up. Show her you mean it this time.”

Max closed his eyes, the weight of guilt and regret pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. He didn’t know if she’d ever forgive him, or if she even wanted to, but Daniel was right about one thing—he couldn’t keep playing this back-and-forth game.

“I need to talk to her,” Max said, his voice resolute, though his heart was still heavy with doubt. “For real this time.”

Daniel nodded, standing up and stretching. “That’s a good start.”

Max sat there for a moment, watching as Daniel moved toward the door.

“And hey,” Daniel added, turning back to face him with a small smile. “She’s tougher than you give her credit for. But don’t take that as an excuse to keep fucking it up, alright?”

Max gave him a weak smile in return. “I’ll try not to.”

As Daniel left, the room fell into silence again. Max sat there, staring down at his hands, the weight of everything he’d learned sinking in. Eight years. She hadn’t moved on, because of him.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself again.

But this time, he wasn’t going to run from it.

Max sat in silence after Daniel left, the weight of his friend’s words pressing heavily on him. Eight years. Eight long years, and she hadn’t been with anyone. The realisation gnawed at him, stirring regret deeper than he’d ever anticipated.

No more running. No more games.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second echoing his resolve. He needed to do something—now.

With a determined breath, Max pushed himself off the couch, downed the rest of his now cold coffee, and splashed water on his face. His reflection stared back at him: bloodshot eyes and messy hair from a restless night. He was tired of running from his past and the woman he still cared about.

He grabbed his hat and jacket, feeling the weight of the decision settle on his shoulders. The drive to the barn felt both too short and interminable, the morning sun casting long shadows over the dirt road.

When he arrived, the familiar sight of the barn filled him with a mix of nostalgia and dread. This place had once been a sanctuary for both of them, but now it felt like the stage for a confrontation he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

He spotted her truck parked outside, a painful reminder that she was already here, immersed in her work. Just another normal morning for her, while he prepared to unravel everything again.

With a deep breath, Max pushed open the barn doors. The comforting scent of hay and horses greeted him, but the atmosphere felt charged with tension as he stepped inside.

There she was, at the far end of the barn, brushing down a horse. Her movements were fluid, confident, but there was an edge to her, a wall that felt impenetrable.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him.

She froze, then continued brushing, refusing to acknowledge him.

“Sweetheart,” he tried again, stepping closer. “Can we talk?”

“Talk?” she repeated, finally turning to face him, irritation flaring in her eyes. “What about? Yesterday? The last eight years? Pick your topic, I’m all ears.”

“Look, I know I messed up. I’m not here to make excuses,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “I just want to understand where we stand.”

Her expression hardened. “Where we stand? You left, Max. You ran away when things got hard, and now you want to come back and act like everything’s fine? Play a little game yesterday? Is that all I am, a game?”

“I’m not saying it’s fine!” he shot back, frustration bubbling over. “I know I hurt you, and I get that it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust. But I want to try.”

“Try?” she scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “You think you can just show up and expect me to forget all the shit you put me through? It doesn’t work that way!”

“Then what do you want from me?” he pressed, stepping closer, the tension thickening the air between them. “I can’t change the past, but I can prove to you that I’m not that guy anymore.”

“You want to prove it? Tell me how,” she challenged, her eyes flashing with anger and hurt.

“I don’t know!” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, his heart racing. “I can show up, I can be here. I can—”

“You can what?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “You can disappear again the moment things get tough? Because that’s what you did before!”

“I won’t! I promise!” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “I’m done running, sweetheart. I’m here, and I want to be here for you.”

She stared at him, her breath quickening, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through her anger. “You think I can just believe you because you say so?”

“Trust isn’t built in a day,” he replied, frustration bleeding into desperation. “But I’ll fight for it if that’s what it takes.”

“And what makes you think I want you fighting for anything?” she shot back, her eyes narrowing, but he could see the uncertainty lurking beneath her defiance. “You hurt me! You abandoned me!”

“I know! I know I did!” he exploded, his voice echoing in the barn. “But I’ve spent the last eight years regretting it. I’m not the same person I was, and I want to prove that to you.”

The tension between them crackled like electricity, both angry and raw, every word charged with unspoken feelings.

“Prove it,” she dared, stepping closer, their faces inches apart. “Show me you’re not that coward anymore.”

Max’s heart raced as he searched her eyes, feeling the heat radiate between them. He was done playing games, done with the hurt. In one swift motion, he closed the distance, cupping her face in his hands, and pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss ignited like a wildfire, filled with all the pent-up frustration, longing, and pain of the past eight years. It was desperate and consuming, a collision of passion that threatened to overwhelm them both. His lips moved against hers with a hunger that had been building for far too long, pouring every unspoken apology and unresolved feeling into that moment.

She responded fiercely, her hands tangling in his hair as if anchoring herself to him, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as though it were the very breath she needed to survive. Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them radiating like a summer storm, swirling with intensity and urgency.

It was a kiss that spoke of years of hurt, of love that had been buried beneath layers of pain and resentment. Every brush of their lips was a whisper of everything they had lost, and every sigh echoed the yearning that had never truly faded. It was a promise and a plea wrapped in one heated embrace.

As they finally pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, the world around them faded into the background. She searched his gaze, her expression a mix of surprise and vulnerability.

“Max…” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“Just let me show you,” he murmured, searching her gaze. “Let me prove that I’m here to stay.”

As they pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed, reality began to seep back in. She took a shaky step back, her heart racing, the warmth of his body still lingering against her. “We shouldn’t have done this,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

“No, we shouldn’t have,” he admitted, the gravity of her words hitting him hard. Yet, there was a fire in his chest that wouldn’t allow him to let go so easily.

Before she could pull away further, he cupped her face again, his fingers gently cradling her jaw, and drew her back toward him. “But I can’t help myself,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

With that, he pressed his lips against hers once more, deeper this time, as if he were trying to erase the eight years apart with each kiss. The world outside faded away, leaving only the warmth of the barn and the intoxicating heat building between them.

She responded instinctively, her body arching against him as his hands slipped to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss grew more urgent, more fervent, as the walls they had built around their hearts began to crumble.

Their lips moved together in a rhythm that felt both familiar and new, a dance of passion that awakened every nerve ending in their bodies. He nipped at her lower lip, drawing a soft gasp from her, and she answered by pressing herself against him, her hands exploring the muscles of his back, feeling the solid strength that had been absent from her life for far too long.

Max’s hands slid lower, gripping her hips as he pulled her body against his, their hearts racing in unison. The taste of her was intoxicating, and he couldn’t get enough. The kiss was no longer just a kiss—it was a release, a long-overdue confession of everything they had both felt but never dared to express.

“Sweetheart…” he breathed against her lips, his voice husky with need. “God, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” she admitted, breathless and caught in the moment. “But—”

“Shh,” he silenced her with another kiss, deeper and more passionate, as if to prove that this moment was theirs alone. There was no past or future—just the here and now, and the undeniable connection that had always existed between them.

As they kissed, the world around them fell away. It was just the two of them, tangled in each other’s arms, lost in the heat of their emotions. Max’s fingers slid under her shirt, brushing against the warm skin of her back, sending shivers down her spine. She gasped, pulling him even closer, feeling the undeniable pull of desire coursing through them both.

“Max,” she breathed, her voice laced with need as she tugged at his shirt, wanting to feel him against her.

“Yeah?” he murmured, his lips trailing down to her neck, planting soft kisses that ignited a fire in her core.

“We shouldn’t…” she started, but her resolve melted as his mouth continued its exploration, eliciting soft moans that betrayed her words.

“I don’t care what we shouldn’t do,” he whispered against her skin, his breath hot and tantalising. “I want you, darlin’. Right now. Always. Let me prove it to you.”

part four

[radiance1]

Danny often felt tired, as of late.

He wasn't certain as to why he did, though. It happened after his, apparent, coronation as the Prince of the Infinite Realms and after finally getting a boyfriend out of that damsel in distress who made him into one.

Which was unfortunate, because though he may try, it was very hard to pay attention on dates when Danny felt he just came from using the Ecto-Skeleton and no amount of sleep would make it go away. Fortunately, however, Billy was very understanding and accommodating of his plight, letting him sleep on him whenever he wanted and having their dates be less mentally/physically demanding things.

Man, Danny loved his boyfriend.

Unfortunately, he was away on one of his Justice League mission things.

Another thing he noticed, is that he liked to sleep in more cold places now. Very, very cold places.

So much so, that he genuinely debated moving to the Far Frozen if not for his parents turning his room into a literal walk-in freezer for him.

Did he ever find out why he needs to sleep so much? No, not really. But man.

Danny could go down for a nap right now.

---

Pariah was having a good, very good day.

He woke up, stretched, ate some food he didn't actually need to, did some light exercises after aeons of not using his sword and just fighting in general and sat down for some tea.

Even had a letter from the Master of Time with a P.S that two humans would be busting down his door!

Wait what-

"Ghost King!" Came the rather loud, effeminate shout accompanying the loud slam of his castle doors. "Where is our son!"

Honestly, Pariah is impressed by the lungs on that human.

"You heard her!" He looked down calmly at the... Actually, what in the infinite is that? Since when did humans go walking around with cannons??? "Tell us where our son is our so help me! Ghost King or not we'll exorcise you right where you stand!"

Pariah blinked slowly, very, very slowly.

Then took a sip of his favorite ghost blend then calmly placed the cup back down.

"You must be the boy's, human, parents I presume?" He asked calmly, gaze sweeping over them both. They seemed to be prepared for war, a burning fire in their eyes as they stared down the very King of Infinity and saw only an obstacle.

Oooooh, how that made the part of him that longed, sung for battle purr in sheer delight.

"Why don't you join me for tea?" He said, waving a hand and conjuring forth two extra, human sized, chairs on the opposing end of his table alongside two more tea cups. "And explain whatever is going on, while you're at it."

The two shared a glance between each other, then slowly lowered their weapons down to a point where they could still draw them at a moment's notice, yet not actively antagonizing the king at the same time-

Oh, he just loves these types of mortals.

-before slowly making their way to their seats, which were right next to each other of course. Married and whatnot.

"Tea?" He flicked a finger, filling their cups with the same that was in his cup but before remembering. "Ah, right. Human and your mortality." He casually mentioned, flicking his finger and changing the liquid to one of the few mortal blends he could still recall. "Worry not, for they are not poisoned." He chuckled lightly.

Honestly, doing such a thing would be beneath him, especially when faced with mortals of such fire.

"Now," He brought his cup to his lips. "Why don't you inform me as to what, exactly, has brought you to my doorstep prepared for battle?"

They, once more, exchanged a glance between each other, making sure the king was still in sight before Maddie opened her lips.

"Our son is missing."

---

The summoning was a success.

A terrible, terrible success.

One that the Justice League, One John Constantine especially, had valiantly attempted to stop.

But, unfortunately, once it got going it seemed to be incapable of stopping.

Faced with an entity being summoned from the Infinite Realms, they had called all of the heroes who were capable that weren't occupied. Shazam, unfortunately, was one of said heroes occupied.

Superman and Wonderwoman? Were not. So, at the very least, they had two of their heaviest hitters available.

The circle glowed a toxic green, growing and growing in glow until it reached its zenith.

Then was snuffed out as brightly as it glowed.

The air stilled, followed by a chill that rivaled the chilliest of snowstorms as if they were standing within one that very moment.

The next moment?

Ice.

Pure, unflinching, jagged pillars of ice rose from the circle the same moment it glow returned. Sticking out from the circle haphazardly and nearly impaling those that stood too close.

Mist, thick, blue mist. Rolled from the pillars of ice, descending down onto the floor with a gentleness that was almost deceptive if not occupied by such cold and being completely and utterly unnatural as it was.

The Justice League readied themselves.

[jweekgoji]

Hiii I really like your writings and headcanons, especially the ones with yandere sentinel from TF 1 being a sub and us being a power femdom.id really appreciate it if you could write about yn or us finding sentinel after Megatron kills him and we repair sentinel just for him to be our dedicated servant boy put on a leash his entire life.

If you don't feel comfortable with the request you can ignore it and take your time no pressure! ❤️

Sentinel/Reader [TFO]

tw: dark themes, emotional manipulation, power imbalance, touch starvation/co-dependency, brief description of past trauma, anxiety, mentions of death, injuries, angst, dubcon [at the end], reader gets a little yandere-ish. word count: ~1830. a/n: i like this request so much, hehehe.

When you first saw your leader being ripped apart by one of the iaconian miners, you were devastated and as shocked as everyone else. Waking up early today, getting ready for another, long and tiring day of work only to suddenly learn that the bot you looked up to was lying to everyone for 50 cycles?

It felt so surreal, here you were standing over the Sentinel Prime. Ruler of Iacon City yesterday, and a leftover piece of scrap today. You're still not certain how you feel about him after what happened. Maybe it was a remnant of admiration for him, after all, how much has passed since the fight?

You were probably standing there for a good few minutes, staring down at Sentinel, not a word or a flick of emotion on your face. That was, until you heard heavy footsteps behind you and a large servo placed on your shoulder.

“You don't have to do this, I can take care of him if you want,” Optimus says carefully. For some reason, the young Prime already felt responsible for his people.

There was a brief silence between the two of you before you shook your helm in response. You didn't want to bother Optimus with this, knowing that he had gone through enough for the past few days. This is the least you can do, helping with rebuilding a new Iacon and getting rid of the past.

A soft sigh escapes your lips once Optimus leaves you alone. This wasn't supposed to be so hard, wasn't it? Just pick him up, and then...what else? Does Sentinel, the selfish betrayer of his own kind, deserve some respect even after his death? To bury him might be a too much of a kind gesture from you, considering that he had no kindness for anyone but himself. On the other hand, melting his remnants still doesn't sound right for you.

You would have kept thinking about it for hours, until a brief, almost too light to notice pulsating of a spark under the tips of your digits caught your attention. You pause, in mind an immediate “am I imagining this? was it real?”, it felt like everything just went quiet around you. A soft beat, then another. Despite everything, the spark inside his chamber was still beating.

And so, you decided to take care of him.

It was a miracle that he survived. The impact of his injuries should have left him dead, you swear, no, everyone swear to see the light goes off from his optics. He was dead, there are no possible explanation for him not to stay offline like he supposed to be. Some might consider it a blessing of Primus himself, for you just a pure luck.

Outliving 13 Primes, somehow not getting killed by quintessons during one of the secret meetings, and now you, the bot who decided to let him live, even though ignoring everything might have been the best solution.

After countless days of work, you are finally able to stabilize his systems, fixing up a few dents here and there, probably left after his last fight with the silver bot. For a cogless miner before, that mech was surprisingly strong, you note.

You hold a piece of a small energon cube in the palm of your servo. Was it the right choice? You never tell anyone, not even Optimus about what you have found. You knew Sentinel would be thrown in prison, if lucky, or hunted down by Megatron if the news reached him. No, you already went too far, letting anyone find out about Sentinel would be a huge mistake. That's why you made sure he didn't get to keep his lower half of the body. He should never be able to leave.

When you gently pushed the energon cube into his mouth, letting it slip down his throat, you waited. A second of silence...another few—until his optics begin to shine light blue once again. You open your mouth to start explaining everything, but you are immediately interrupted by a loud “no!” and you have to clamp your servo over his mouth to make him quiet.

The mech in front of you remembers only the last few seconds before he went offline, that burning pain through his whole body is now forever printed in his mind. You can see the genuine fear in his optics, which soon changed into surprise once he processed everything. He wasn't in the center of Iacon. No one, but you were around him.

Only after a good few minutes of soft explaining calmed his raising spark. Sentinel was relieved, after all, there are some loyal worshippers of his who took care of him and repaired him! As you stood in front of the former leader, you made sure to leave no details about everything that happened after. A new Prime was born, and D-16, now well known as Megatron, is one of the future concerns for everyone in Iacon besides quintessons. Even after his «death» Sentinel made sure to leave a huge impact on your lives for cycles and cycles in the future.

“And about...the other part of me?” Sentinel asks, glancing down where his lower half should be before looking back at you.

You go silent for a mere second before a quick “I wasn't able to repair it” excuse slips from your glossa.

Thankfully, he swallows this response rather quickly, and without questioning any further, that smug smirk appears on his face, ready to boss you again. It was amusing at first. In such a position, Sentinel forgets, he's a no Prime anymore, just another cogless bot left at your mercy.

You were merciful enough to let him live in this fantasy, letting him think that he has that control over something, despite how annoying he gets whenever you don't do something immediately. What do you mean you have to leave him? He's Sentinel Prime, you should obey and listen to him!...Please?

Maybe in the back of his mind, he slowly realizes it. He's dependent. He can't live without you, he can't even reach for a cube of an energon for himself without you kindly putting it on the tip of his glossa. If you suddenly decide to leave him, he's all alone. That takes a good sacrifice of his own pride to give you a few signs, angrily growling a “Don't you dare to leave!” or “I am not done with you, come back this instant!”.

When you had to leave today once again, making him suffer in the silence of his own thoughts and a soft humming of mechanisms in this room, he felt insecure. He hates it, waiting and counting the seconds until you finally come back to him. How could you disrespect him like this? Who do you think you are, huh?

“Oh, please, leave then! I don't need you anyway,” Sentinel says proudly, rolling his optics with a slight annoyance hidden in his tone.

He doesn't need your help, if you leave, it would change nothing for him. You're just another nameless bot, the one who supposed to serve and listen to him, after all. If you don't want to do what he says, there will certainly be someone else to replace you. Right?

Then why, why he feels that deep, suffocating feeling every time you leave? When he calls your name over and over again, his tone changes from an authoritative to a weak, pleading one. No, no, no, you wouldn't really leave him, would you? He panics, breathing a little heavy at the realization that there he is, with no one but him in here. He's so, so screwed.

With each passing hour, his anxiety grows even more. From the most ridiculous to the most horrifying scenarios, he can't help but silently plead for your soon return. A constant “come back, please, please come back, you can't just leave me here,” in his thoughts. Sentinel would certainly go insane if it weren't for a soft hiss of an opening door. You were back.

Once you are close to him, he quickly wraps his servos around you, clinging to your frame for a dear life. You can hear him, muttering something under his breath over and over again, and without a need to ask him to repeat his words, you understand everything.

“I would never leave you, Sentinel,” you say softly, placing your servo on the side of his face, only for him to lean into it, as if begging for more.

“Please don't,” he whispers back, his servo moving to the back of your helm, making you lean closer to his height so he could kiss you.

Who would have thought that Sentinel Prime is such a touchstarved mech? Begging someone to notice him? Like you? If only you had known that leaving a poor bot for a good day or two all alone would make him such a sucker for attention, you would have done it much sooner.

And suddenly Sentinel is not that annoying, noisy menace, as you remember. Every soft sound he lets out, every gentle caress and touch of his servos on your frame, feels like a desperate attempt to make you stay. He wants to show you that he's worthy of your time, if only you stay!

Sentinel's hold on you is tight, as he keeps you right next to him, afraid that the moment he lets go, you're going to disappear. Just a mere thought of it makes him whine into the kiss, and he pushes his glossa into your mouth, as if hoping to please you.

The moment you pull away from him, Sentinel grips tighter, mewling a soft “no”, a look of desperation in his optics. You can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction from it. How couldn't you, when you have someone who is always so needy of your attention? Always looking forward to the moment you come back?

At this point, he doesn't care what he has to do to keep you with him for another minute or two. The old, commanding and cruel part of him is so ashamed of what he has become. Any other good day in past, you would already be mining energon and hoping for a better future, and he would be a king, just like he was supposed to.

“Please, use me, however you want just— just don't go,” he pleads once again, his servos tightening around your wrists, wanting and needing you closer.

And how can you really tell him no if he asks you so, so nicely today?

You only nod gently at his another plead, placing your servo on top of his helm to gently nudge him lower and to position him between your thighs. Sentinel was so great with every word of his speeches that it's no surprise that he certainly knows how to use his own tongue.

[toomuchracket]

under the full moon (d word matty x reader fluff)

calling it fluff is misleading they are 3 seconds away from raw sex at all times in this fic. promptober, pre-dating, charli just cockblocked them (well, interrupted an almost-kiss) at new year... enjoy <3

“oi - why haven't you got a drink?”

you look up from your conversation with someone famous whose name you've already forgotten. george is frowning at you, usually-sharp eyes hazy with tipsiness; you're quite impressed at his commitment to his hosting duties in the midst of such inebriation, to be honest. “your missus dragged me in here and into a convo before i could get one, that's why.”

“that girl,” he shakes his head. suddenly, you're on your feet, being tugged towards the kitchen before you can even apologise to the actress - rachel? - you were chatting to. “come on. can't have you dehydrating.”

“there's no risk of that, george,” you grumble, stumbling along in an effort to keep up with him and his giraffe legs. christ, how does charli manage? “was out already, remember?”

“yeah, i know. matty wouldn't stop fucking moping about you not being here earlier.”

you beam.

“actually,” george continues. “he keeps moping whenever you're not around, to be honest,” he stops abruptly; only once you've bounced back from him do you notice his mischievous grin. “i think he fancies you.”

you beam even wider.

as if it's news to you, though - you did nearly just snog matty outside.

“don't tell him i told you that, though,” he's walking again. “he's battered me for doing that before.”

“tried to batter you, i assume.”

“exactly,” george pulls you into the kitchen, weaving through people and conversations and what you think is a drinking game, stopping when he reaches the fridge. “alright. what you drinking?”

you don't answer, too preoccupied with staring at matty across the room. a spike of jealousy spears you as you watch him talk to a charli and a girl you don't recognise, long dark hair trailing down her back, but you're appeased when he catches sight of you and smiles; you copy his expression, and neither of you break eye contact. that is, until george waves his hand in front of your face. “hellooooooo? anybody home?”

“fuck off, i was thinking.”

“making eyes at my best friend is what you were doing, actually.”

“you're seeing things, george. maybe you're going insane.”

“what d'you mean going?” matty's arm finds its way around your waist. “he's been insane as long as i've known him, darling.”

you rest your head on his shoulder. “well, i didn't want to be impolite.”

“sweet girl,” he presses a gentle kiss to your temple; you do your best not to swoon, and he turns to his best friend. “i'll sort her with a drink, mate, s'alright.”

“but thank you for bringing me through for one, george,” you squeeze his hand, and he smiles as he bids you goodbye and speedwalks off to god knows where. biting back a cheeser of a smile, you turn to matty, loosely slinging your arms around his neck. “hello again, gorgeous.”

“hi,” he replies softly, cheeks tinting pink under the spotlights in the ceiling - your body fizzes with excitement about the fact that you can elicit such a reaction from him. matty's hands move to rest on your hips, and it's your turn to blush. he smiles. “missed you after we came inside. where did you end up?”

“charli got me talking to a couple of people, s'all.”

“yeah, me too.”

“i saw,” you raise your eyebrows, playfully. “she trying to set you up?”

“dunno. wasn't paying attention,” his thumbs gently rub little circles into the satin of your dress. “was a bit preoccupied thinking about someone else.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he smirks. “what about you, pretty girl? she have you talking to boys she thinks you'd want?”

“nah, just a girl she thought i'd find cool. which she was right about,” you stretch, deliberately arching your body further into his and savouring the way his breathing changes. “but she would've been wrong if she'd had me chatting to boys like that,” your eyes flick to matty's slightly-parted lips, then back up to meet his gaze again. “you see… i want a man.”

matty exhales shakily. “god,” he half-laughs. “you're really fucking hot, you know. and,” he adds hurriedly. “you're beautiful. really. i mean, you're just… wow,” he grins. “gonna be thinking about this dress for a long time, trust me.”

“i hoped you'd like it. s'why i bought it.”

“babe,” matty rests his head on your shoulder, sighing happily (you hope so, at least) when you softly caress the back of his neck. he slowly lifts it up, whispering in your ear and making you shiver in the best possible way. “and i know this is forward, but… shall we go outside and finish what we started earlier?”

fuck.

“yeah,” you breathe, smiling as matty pulls away from you to take your hand. “oh, wait - i still don't have a drink.”

“i have wine,” there's a hint of desperation in matty's voice; he seems to realise this, clearing his throat and smiling bashfully. yeah, you're done for. “promised i'd have it, didn't i?”

nodding, you tap the handbag still hanging from your shoulder. “and i have cigs.”

“the perfect woman. shall we?”

you nod, and matty gently leads you towards the back door of the house (with a detour to the wine rack to grab a bottle of red), ushering you through throngs of people with a feather-light touch to your lower back; as soft as it is, the contact has butterflies emerging from cocoons in your stomach that you didn't know were there, and you're actually quite sad when he removes his hand to open the door for you. carefully watching your step in your heels, you exit into the garden, look up, and grumble. behind you, matty follows suit. “well, fuck.”

the garden is almost as packed as the house, cigarette and vape and joint smoke rising from the people below and disappearing in the moonlit sky - not quite the secluded romantic setting either you or matty had evidently imagined. scanning for any sort of uninhabited spot, you notice a slightly-hidden section of low garden wall, shielded from the rest of the outdoor space by an unkempt patch of hedge, and quickly tug matty towards it. he speeds ahead of you when he sees where you're headed, shucking off his suit jacket and laying it on the mossy wall. “there you go, sweetheart.”

“matty,” your eyes widen. “you can't lay your jacket there! that thing costs more than my rent!”

“first of all, you live in kentish town, so no it doesn't. second of all,” he sits, patting the fabric as a sign for you to join him. “the wall's fucking freezing, and you're wearing the shortest dress of all time and no tights. you need some sort of barrier, darling.”

huffing, you sit on the jacket. “s'not the shortest dress of all time.”

“i personally have no issue with the length. quite the opposite, actually,” matty winks, unscrewing the top of the wine and passing you the bottle. “sorry, i should've grabbed glasses.”

you shrug, taking a swig. “well, if i must share germs with someone here, you're the best choice,” giggling, you pass the bottle back to matty, and dig in your bag for your marlboros and lighter. “shall we?”

he nods, smiling; you love the way his eyes look, illuminated by the flame. “you do know how to make a man feel special, darling.”

you aren't sure how long you stay like that with matty, drinking and smoking and chatting and laughing. time moves differently when you're with him, the only way you can measure it being in disappearances - firstly of the wine in the bottle, then the four cigarettes you had left in that particular pack, and of the people leaving the garden in dribs and drabs. despite the ever-dwindling crowd nearby, neither you nor matty try to reenact the almost-kiss from earlier; both of you seem to sense something other than your bic lighter sparking here, and you're more than happy to keep kindling it through conversation than risking a wild blaze, or worse, a complete extinguishing. only when the early morning becomes too cold to bear do you go back inside, hand in hand and animated as you yap away.

matty's incredulous. “this is the classiest new year's event you've ever been to? this? look, darling - actually, don't,” he covers your eyes with his hand until you get back into the hallway. “someone clearly went too hard on the midori there.”

you wince. “awful stuff.”

“i'm with you on that one. you know i agreed to do body shots off ross after drinking it at a party once?”

“no.”

“oh, yeah,” he shudders. “far better in theory than in execution.”

“the shots as a concept? or the fact it was ross you were doing them with?” you tilt your head, smiling shyly when you catch yourself. “sorry. i've just never done body shots.”

matty stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at you in complete bewilderment. “are you serious?”

you nod.

“but… but you look like that!” he splutters, gesturing wildly to you. “nobody ever propositioned you to let them lick salt from you? really?”

“they did not,” you pause, face twisting into a smirk. “are you propositioning me for that, matthew?”

his jaw drops. it stays that way for a good few seconds, actually, before he blinks and gives a smirk of his own. “would you like it if i did?”

oh, the bastard. still - what's the use in lying? “i would. and,” you move to whisper in his ear. “i wanna get my tongue on you, too.”

he moans. actually moans. and while you're still reeling from that, he leans back, and shouts at the top of his voice. “george!”

the man in question comes skidding through. “what? what's wrong?”

matty grins. “have you got any tequila?”

***

“i cannot believe you're doing this with him.”

ross's wife - pregnant, therefore sober, therefore the only person who can be trusted with the components of the shot - carefully pours a little trail of salt onto the juncture of your neck and shoulder. you smile, hyper-aware of not moving and knocking the full shot glass tucked between your boobs or the lime wedge resting on the swell of the right one. “why?”

she hums. “i thought you had good taste.”

“don't make me laugh, i'll spill the shot!”

“sorry,” she smiles. “maybe we should get matty over here before that happens, yeah?”

“s'pose,” you take as deep a breath as your new accessories allow, as your friend steps to the side. “oi, healy!”

he turns away from his conversation with george and ross, pretty eyes lighting up when he sees you sat ready on the kitchen counter. four strides, and he's in front of you. “hi, darling. still wanna do this?”

you smirk. “wouldn't have a shot glass in my tits if i didn't,” your smile widens as his pupils do the same. “whenever you're ready, gorgeous.”

so quickly you don't have time to react, matty kisses your nose. “this, genuinely, is one of the greatest privileges of my life. thank you,” he leans back, breathing deeply as if to prepare himself, then slots himself between your legs. “right, here goes.”

time starts to move weirdly again, the second matty gets his tongue on you. at the first touch, your eyes close, something within you urging you to let your other senses take over for the experience; initially, you do, inhaling the heady mix of cologne and cigarette smoke that's just so characteristically matty, and getting goosebumps at the slow movement of his flat tongue against your neck. but then he moves, and you feel hot breath on your chest, and your eyes fly open to watch him duck down and take the shot glass between his lips. he's blushing, obvious from the heat of his cheeks against your tits, but the flirty confidence is there as always in his eyes when he leans back up to take the shot itself - by the time he leans back down to bite the lime on your tit, teeth grazing the soft skin, you think your cheeks must be even warmer than his. it isn't out of embarrassment, despite the fact that you're colleagues, or your entire friend group seems to be watching, but rather out of passion, a unique form of desire your body only reserves for matty and matty alone.

yeah, you're fucked.

your friends cheer as matty pulls the lime rind from his lips, setting it down with a smile and moving to look at you properly again. “how was that?”

“very, very fun. thank you, angel,” you pull him in for a hug, fighting the urge to press a soft kiss to his neck. “you're good with your mouth, matty,” leaning back, you look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster. “can i show you how good i am with mine, now?”

surprisingly, he doesn't cave at that like you thought he might; instead, it's you who caves, heat bursting in your stomach when matty slides his thumb across your lips. he smiles. “let's do it.”

he's gone before you can respond, moving things off the kitchen table while you breathe shakily at the counter. of course, that isn't helped at all when matty unbuttons his shirt, throwing the fabric to ross (who grimaces) before draping himself on the table in a very delectable way. “salt!”

ross's wife rolls her eyes, but moves to help prepare matty the same way she did with you. charli staggers over to you, swigging champagne directly from the bottle - you take a swig of your own when she holds it to you, and she giggles. “what even the fuck is going on?”

“shots, babe.”

“yeah, i know,” she rolls her eyes. “but i mean, like, you and matty,” blinking, she looks over at the table. “you're about to lick salt off his stomach. s'a bit of a sexy thing to do with your friend.”

“well, he is my best friend.”

“you know what i mean!” she wails. “you're telling me you'd straddle your best friend, and lick him?”

you smirk, sneaky. “i'd straddle and lick matty, yeah.”

“jesus,” charli's head turns at the sound of both your names, and she shoves you towards the table. “well, now's the time.”

doing your best not to smile too widely, you wander over to stand beside the table matty's lying on. he really does look incredible like this, shirtless under the spotlights, salt dotted in little piles from his hip tattoo (slightly underhanded of him, you think) all the way up to the one adorning his chest, shot glass between his lips with a lime wedge balanced on top. incapable of resisting the urge to touch him, you stroke his hair. “hi, gorgeous. you ready?”

matty winks, humming out a laugh when you return the motion; the noise fades into something that could be a moan when you manage to pull yourself onto the table, crawling up just enough to be able to lean down and flatten your tongue against his hip, just like you've dreamt about for months. beside you, his hands clench and then clutch the table, and that sign that you've affected him spurs you on, has you deciding to crawl slowly up his body and collect all the salt in one continuous lick. you can't stop the little moan of satisfaction that leaves your lips, and it sends matty into overdrive - his chest heaves, moans of his own reverberating through it, and you actually hear your friends gasp (and shriek, in charli's case) and someone murmur something like “oh my god, i feel like i'm intruding” and several pairs of footsteps leaving the room; when the salt is gone, and you manage to detach your tongue from the delectable man below you, it becomes evident that you and matty are alone. alone, for the first time since your interrupted almost-kiss earlier.

fuck it. might as well take advantage of that.

with as saccharine a smile as you can muster, you “readjust” yourself on matty's lap, smile widening at the combination of the way matty's hands move to clutch at your hips and the feeling of him hardening beneath your (definitely wet) panties. placing a hand on either side of his head, you lean forward, slowly, grinning once again at the way his eyes flick between your chest and face; you hover over his lips for a moment, then take the glass from his with your own, throwing your head back (and grinding down on matty for good measure) as you swallow the tequila and bite the lime before laying the glass and rind down.

matty laughs, eyes sparkling. “you're a pro, darling,” his hands squeeze your hips, rubbing up across your waist and back down. “you're also a fucking minx, you know that?”

you shrug. “well, you had me sit on your lap. what else was i to do, really, babe?”

“m'glad you did all that, sweetheart. makes this next bit easier for me, knowing how much you want me,” he smiles, warm and sweet. “what are you doing this friday night?”

“oh, that's easy,” you take his hands. “i'm going on a date with you.”

matty beams. “too fucking right you are.”

[k4marina]

— The Spoils of War || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: with highgarden now secure daenerys shifts her attention back to the caves of dragonstone and you finally venture down since your arrival.

warnings: war, executions, death, game of thrones typical themes

a/n: all dialouge in italics is Valyrian

important note at the end, please read.

series masterlist

5.4k wrd count

game of thrones x fem!modern!reader

[gif found on pinterest]

I could hear the screaming from up above. The air smelt like burning flesh and amber as Daenerys had gone around lighting anything and anyone ablaze. My eyes roamed the ground immediately spotting Drogon and Daenerys on the ground. A scorpion's spear was lodged into Drogon’s shoulder and not too far off the side was Jamie wielding a spear, readying himself to attack Daenerys. Thankfully, Drogon noticed and threw fire his way only for Jamie to be saved by someone and thrown into the river.

“Protect them.” 

Viserion screeches and fire erupts from his mouth as he lights a ring of fire around Daenerys and Drogon so she could safely remove the spear. I turned Viserion back and aimed him towards the remaining enemy. 

“Dracarys.” 

Viserion ignites the ground beneath us in flames, destroying any remaining scorpions and Lannister men that were foolish enough to still fight. Through all the screaming and burning I could hear the galloping of horses and war cries. I look back to see a swarm of Dothraki coming from the West. They circle the remaining enemy soldiers, intimidating them. 

“Over there,” I say to Viserion. “We’re safe to land over there.” 

Carefully, Viserion descents to the open clearing I’d pointed out. Once on the ground again, I jumped off of Viserion and walked over to Daenerys. The fire around her and Drogon had fizzled down and she’d managed to get the spear out of his shoulder. I eyed the wound and then her worried expression. 

“He’ll recover.” I glanced back to the Dothraki taking the prisoners. “They got here faster than expected.” 

“I had Qhono send his fastest riders.” Daenerys replies. Her eye’s trailed towards the river. “He got away.” She says, referring to Jamie. 

“Good.” I turn to look at the river too. “We’ll need him in the future.” 

–––

Tyrion walks over the ash covered ground. There are burned bodies and empty cargo strewn about. The Dothraki loot the bodies of any remaining Lannister gold and weapons. He steps up onto the stone boulders where Daenerys stood. Tyrion and I stood on either side of her while Drogon and Viserion were behind her, eyeing the captured soldiers, ready to pounce with one word.

“I know what Cersei has told you,” Daenerys starts off calmly. “That I’ve come to destroy your cities, burn down your homes, murder you and orphan your children. That’s Cersei Lannister, not me. I’m not here to murder. ANd all I want to destroy is the wheel that is rolled over rich and Poor to the benefit of no one but the Cersei Lannisters of the world. I offer you a choice. Bend the knee and join me. Together we will leave the world a better place than we found it, or refuse and die.”

Tension hangs in the air as her words settle into the prisoner's mind. A few Lannisteer men kneel to the ground, while most remain standing. Dragon roars, moving closer to the men and almost all the Lannister men quickly kneel, while a few still remain standing including Randyll and Dickon Tarley, Samwell Tarley’s father and brother.

“Step forward, My Lord.” Daenerys commands. Randyll steps up in front of the kneeling Lannisters, his son not too far off. 

“You will not kneel?”

“I already have a queen.” He replies, gruffly. 

“My sister, she wasn't your queen until recently though, was she, until she murdered your rightful queen and destroyed House Tyrell for all time. So it appears your allegiances are somewhat flexible.” Tyrion says. 

Randyll turns to Tyrion, “there are no easy choices in war. Say what you will about your sister, she was born in Westeros, has lived here all her life. You on the other hand, you murdered your own father and chose to support a foreign invader. One with no ties to this land, an army of savages at her back.”

“If I remember correctly, the Targaryen’s have lived in Westeros for hundreds of years and before Aegon's Conquest they resided on Dragonstone in Blackwater Bay for nearly 500 years.” I turn to him with a pointed look. “Her Grace was born on Dragonstone and forced to flee her home and live in exile in a foreign land thanks to the Usurper. All she’s doing now is coming home and reclaiming what was her families from those who stole it from them.” 

Tyrion turns to Daenerys. “Perhaps he can take the black, Your Grace. Whatever else he is, he is a true soldier. He would be invaluable at the wall.” 

“You cannot send me to the Wall. You are not my queen.” Randyll grits. 

Daenerys doesn’t reply, merely turning to the Dothraki. Two men step forward, grabbing Lord Tarley and pulling him to the side. I watched as Dickon stepped forward. 

“You will have to kill me too.” 

Randyll pulls away from the Dothraki, turning to face his son. “Step back and shut your mouth.” 

“Who are you?” Daenerys asks Dickon. 

“A stupid boy.” Randyll replies for his son. 

“I’m Dickon Tarley, son of Randyll Tarley.” Dickon answers proudly. 

“You are the future of your house,” Tyrion tries to reason. “This war has already wiped one great house from the world. Don’t let it happen again. Bend the knee.” 

Randyll nods to his son, wordlessly telling him to save his life. “I will not.” He double downs.

“You’re loyal to your father and family, it’s commendable.” I step forward. “It’s a shame your father doesn’t share the same trait.” 

“My father is the most loyal man I know.” Dickon quickly defends. 

“Is he?” I say, accusingly. “He fought valiantly for the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, and now that the last Targaryen is here, he turns his back on her forgetting that 20 years ago he stood by her brother.” I shake my head. “But that shouldn’t be a surprise. After all, if he could turn his back on his eldest son, he can turn on anyone.” 

Dickon looks taken aback. “Eldest son? What do you know about my brother?”

“Nothing.” Randyll sharply replies. “That woman knows nothing.” 

“Do I?” I pressed further. “He couldn’t stand your brother.” I stepped down the boulder. “He hated the fact that he chose to read books instead of picking up a sword. So much so that he told his own child that if he didn’t take the black willingly, he’d kill him and make it look like a hunting accident. Instead of letting your brother be and naming you heir, he threw him to the Wall.”  I stepped closer to Dickon. “Tell me, is this the man you want to die for? The one who’d murder his own child for reading books? Is this where your loyalty lies?” 

The apple of Dickon’s throat bobs as he nervously swallows, shaking his head. “No, my father would never.” 

“No? Ask him then.” 

Slowly, he turned to his father who looked like he was ready to burst with anger. “Father. Tell me that she’s lying… please.” 

Randyll clenches his jaw, casting his eyes downwards, answering Dickon’s question. He looked like he was ashamed. Not over the fact that he’d behaved in such a deplorable manner to his son, but the fact that he’d been exposed to his other son. Dickon’s face fell. He brought his hand up to wipe his face and collect his thoughts. He side steps me, standing clearly before Daenerys. 

“House Tarley has served House Targaryen for centuries.” He began, his voice steady. “My father fought for your house against Robert's army and now, I will fight for your house, Your Grace. House Tarley is with you.” Dickon kneels, bowing his head. 

Daenerys looks at me, impressed before turning to the new Lord Tarley. “Rise.” She commands. “Your loyalty is greatly appreciated. I look forward to fighting beside you as I reclaim my family's throne.” 

Dickon stands, bowing his head once again. I lightly pat his arm, “you made a wise decision.” I turn back, stepping back to my place besides Daenerys. 

“I’m giving those who are still standing another chance. Bend the knee or suffer the consequences.” Daenerys looks at the rest of the men standing in the eye as she speaks. Half bend the knee, while the rest too dumb for their own good stood their ground. Daenerys looks towards the Dothraki who pull those who are still standing to the side so they could meet their punishment. 

“Dickon..” Randyll calls out his son who doesn’t spare him a glance or reply as he’s dragged away. 

Drogon moved towards the prisoners, eyeing them like a prize. Daenerys turns towards them, “I, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of my name, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die.”

She pauses, making eye contact with Drogon. “Dracarys.” 

Drogon draws in a deep breath and dragonfire spews out of his mouth at the men. They’re instantly engulfed in flames, their bodies completely incinerated. The remaining Lannister men recoil in shock and horror. Drogon huffs, pleased with his work and turns back to his brother. 

Daenerys turns back towards Dickon who had tears in his eyes after watching his fathers execution. “I will call for you to raise your banners, Lord Tarley. Until then, rest and prepare for the battle to come.” Daenerys says, sort of reminding Dickon of his new position as Lord, but also as one of her allies before she turns back and walks away with Tyrion not too far behind. 

I stood atop the boulder, watching as the men who bent the knee walked away, thankful that they had lived before turning my gaze towards Dickon. 

“You made a wise decision.” I say, softly. “It was a hard one, but right. You will be a far better Lord than your father was.” 

“That’s not true. I can never be as great as him.” He said, dejected. 

“Would you ever threaten your own child for wanting to be in the company of books rather than swords?” I ask. 

Dickon shakes his head. 

“Then you’re already better than him.” 

—–

“Are we ready to leave?” I ask Daenerys and Tyrion. 

“Yes,” says Daenerys. “Highgarden is secure. The Dothraki will remain at guard here until a group of Unsullied take over the castle.” 

“And I’m assuming you’re going back home to check on the place?” I ask Tyrion. 

He nods. “I won’t take too long at Casterly Rock.” 

I looked around at the battle-ridden field. The once dead soldiers now buried under ground, stripped of their armor and weapons. I spot a Dothraki carrying one of the Lannisters' swords and get an idea. 

I turned back to Tyrion and Daenerys. “Have all the enemy swords gathered and taken back to Dragonstone with us.” 

Daenerys frowns. “Our men have plenty of swords, what use are the Lannisters weapons to us?” 

“Just humor me.” 

Daenerys and Tyrion share a look, but nonetheless, she gives the order to round up the swords. A few Dothraki call out towards us, signaling something to Daenerys. 

“They say that they’re ready to leave.” Daenerys explains. 

Understanding, Tyrion bows. “Then I will be taking my leave, Your Grace.” 

Daenerys dismisses him with a nod and the two of us watch as he makes his way over to the Dothraki that would be escorting him to Casterly Rock. Once they were out of sight Daenerys and I began our walk to where our dragons were. 

“How did you know that about Randall Tarley?” She asks. 

“I read about him,” I replied. “His eldest, Sam, became a Maester and in his old age he wrote about his life. Growing up, his life on the Wall, being the first man ever to kill a White Walker, basically a biography. In the book he alluded that his father would have done anything to get him out of his family, even making things look like an accident.” 

“So you did all of that on a hunch?”

I shrug. “It’s not a hunch if it’s true, is it?” 

“I guess not.” 

We fall into a comfortable silence, but it’s clear Daenerys is in deep thought. “What do you mean we need him?” 

“Who?” I ask. “Jamie?” 

She nods. 

“I mean what I said.” I said. “We don’t need him now, but later. He’ll be a great ally and an important tool to help knock down Cersei.”

“Jamie will help bring down Cersei? The woman he loves?” Daenerys doesn’t sound convinced. 

“He loves her now, but not for long. His bond with Cersei is already strained after the death of his children, it won’t be long for him to realize that the woman he once loved has changed for the worse.” 

“So once he’s come to his senses he’ll bend the knee to me?”

“What? No?” I shook my head. “He’s not going to waltz onto Dragonstone and bend the knee. You need to remember, he was there when your father had gone mad, he lived through Aneys’ madness. I know you’re nothing like your father, but he doesn't and he’ll be hesitant to shake your hand.”

“You just said he is going to be an ally. How is he an ally if he doesn't bend the knee to me?” 

“Because anyone who is against Cersei is an ally.” 

She stops walking, staring off at Viserion and Drogon. Her eyes lingered at the wound on Drogon’s shoulder where he’d been pierced with a spear. A spark of anger runs through her at the thought that her son was injured. 

I placed a hand on her shoulder. “She’ll pay for what she did tenfold, we’ll make sure of it. You just need to keep a cool head and trust me.” 

She lets out a long breath through her nose, “okay.” 

“Though, I think you and I should hitch a ride on Viserion and let Drogon fly alone.” Daenerys agrees with my suggestion and mounts Viserion after I do. Both dragons take to the sky, Drogon a little shaky, and they fly back to Dragonstone. 

–––

When we landed we were greeted by Missandei, Jon, and Ser Davos. Missandei was the first to step forward, eyeing Drogon and then the blood on my armor. 

“Are you hurt?” 

I shake my head, helping Daenerys off. “It’s not mine. Give Drogon something to eat, he’ll heal on his own, so just let him be.” 

She nods, relaying the same information to a Dothraki guard who goes to do as I’ve said. Daenerys walks over to where Jon and Ser Davos are standing back, still wary of the two dragons.

As they talked, Missandei turned to me, “have you heard from Grey Worm?” 

I smiled, knowingly. “No, but Tyrion is heading to Casterly Rock and I’m sure he’ll send us a raven soon. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of alone time once he’s back.” I winked, teasingly. 

She suppressed a smile, blushing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Daenerys turns back, beckoning us forward. We walk over to her, Jon and Davos glance over at the blood on my armor, but don’t comment. 

“Jon Snow and his men have been exploring the caves below.” Daenerys explains. “As they’ve said, it’s filled with Dragonglass.” 

Jon nods. “From what we’ve explored so far, we can tell that the entire cave system is filled with Dragonglass.”

“We’ll explore tomorrow in the morning,” Daenerys says, watching as the sun begins to set. “Everyone get some rest.” 

Missandei and I bow, watching as she walks towards the castle. Today had been a long day and the last thing I wanted to do was explore some caves. Missandei and I began walking back to the castle with the men behind us. Jon and Davos walked silently together. 

“How was Highgarden?,” Missandei asks.

“Beautiful,” I recall. “Minus the Lannister force trying to ransack it.”

“I’m sure Lady Olenna had something to say about that.” Missandei laughs, but I don't, catching her attention. 

“What happened? Did she make it out safely?” Missandei asks. 

I pause, thinking back to her in that room. “No,” everyone stops walking, shocked. I turn back to their expecting faces. “I got there in time, but she didn’t take the antidote. I tried to convince her, but all she said was that Cersei had taken everyone from her, that her time was over and she was at peace with it.” 

“So you just?..” 

“I honored her wishes. I held her hand until the poison took effect. I’ve already given the orders to have her buried with the rest of her family. At least Cersei can’t split them apart in the afterlife.” 

No one spoke, all of them just taking in my words. The air got colder, and the stars began to peak out of the sky. 

I shook my head, “It’s been a long day. I’ll see you all in the morning.” I turned, not waiting for a reply and trekked back into the castle. The halls were dark and barren, but it was still nice. The walk to my room was refreshing, there was a small ache in my legs from riding Viserion all day. How Daenerys was able to fly a top of Drogon with no saddle was beyond me. Maybe I could look into making a saddle. Once in my room, I slipped my armor and clothes off and stepped into the already drawn bath waiting for me. 

Tomorrow was going to be another big day. Everything was starting to pick up fast. So much was going to start happening in such little time. I could only hope that it’ll end up in our favor instead of Cersei’s or worse, the White Walkers. Once I had bathed I slipped into my nightgown and settled into bed with a heavy heart. 

––

The air smelt like salt, fish and seaweed. A gust of air rushed past me as I walked down the stone steps towards the beach, blowing my hair silver back. I spotted Missandei and Daenerys already there, talking amongst themselves. 

I bowed my head towards Dany, “it’s fucking freezing out here.” 

“The days are getting colder,” Daenerys says. 

“Where’s Jon?” I ask, looking around the beach. Both northern men and our Dothraki were scattered around the shore, carrying boxes and supplies. 

“There,” Daenerys juts out her chin, pointing at Jon making his way over to us. 

“Your Grace, My Lady,” Jon says. “This way.” 

He leads the three of us to the entrance of the cave where he’s handed a torch by Ser Davos. The opening is dimly lit, almost inviting until you look deep into the center of the cave where nothing but the dark pit awaits. I clench my jaw, nervous. I hadn’t been in here since that night.

“Are you okay?” Daenerys asks in hushed Valyrian, just loud enough for me to hear. 

I stare into the cave and nod, my hand instinctively coming up to where my necklace sits on my neck. 

“It’s just a cave, that’s all.” I can't tell if I’m telling her or myself. 

Missandei and Ser Davos wait by the entrance of the cave as the three of us step forward. Jon leads with Daenerys beside him while I follow behind her. The cave looked the same as it did when I woke up. I could feel an unsettling feeling settle on my chest as we went further into the cave and closer to it.

“I wanted you to see it before we start hacking it to bits.” Jon says. He lights a brazier, illuminating the cave and the Dragonglass against the fire. 

Daenerys looks around the cave in awe. “Is this what you saw when you first entered?” She asks, looking at me over her shoulder. 

I shake my head. “No. They’d hacked away at most of the glass in this cave over the years for weapons or jewelry. When I came here it just looked like a cave.”

Jon lights another brazier, listening to our conversation, despite not knowing what we were saying. “So this is it, all we’ll ever need. There is something else I want to show you.” 

He steps further into the cave and Daenerys turns back, asking with her eyes, are you okay? I nodded and beckoned her forwards. She turned, following Jon. I held my breath the closer we got to the carvings. A few nights after my arrival I’d sat down and explained to Daenerys how I’d gotten here, or was brought here, more or less, but decided to leave out the part about the paintings. 

The jagged cave walls were now covered in multiple carvings. The carvings reached all the way up to the ceiling of the cave. They varied from swirl patterns to drawings and smooth shapes. Looking at all of it so up close, I couldn’t help but marvel at it all. After so many centuries, the carvings remained the same, undisturbed. When I’d first arrived those carvings had either faded or were hacked away by people who wanted “a piece of history” but seeing them now in its actuality left a shiver down my spine.

“The Children of the Forest made these.” Jon uses the flame of the torch to show the molars painted onto the walls. 

“When?” Daenerys asks. 

“A very long time ago.” He replies. 

“They were right there standing where we’re standing before there were Targaryens or Starks or Lannisters. Maybe even before there were men.” Daenerys says. 

“No,” Daenerys turns from the wall to Jon. Jon walks to another wall, bringing the flame close to show a decision of the Children of the Forest and the First Men standing together. “They were here together, the Children and the First Men.” 

“Doing what?” Daenerys asks, stepping closer to examine the murals. “Fighting each other?” 

Jon takes her by the arm, leading her to the other side of the cave, using the torch to light the way. The mural showed the Night King and the White Walkers. 

“They fought together against their common enemy.” She says, putting it all together. “Despite their differences, despite their suspicions, together.” Daenerys stares down the painting, silent. “We need to do the same if we’re going to survive.” 

“Because the enemy is real. It’s always been real.” Jon finishes her thought. 

Daenerys turns to Jon. “And you say you can’t defeat them without my armies and my dragons?” 

“No, I don’t think I can.” 

Daenerys steps forward, closer to Jon. “I will fight for you. I will fight for the north…” Jons face softens just slightly, “when you bend the knee.” Only for it to harden again. 

“My people won’t accept a southern ruler, not after everything they’ve suffered.” Jon doubles down. 

Daenerys steps even closer, “they will if their king does,” she argued. “They chose you to lead them. They chose you to protect them.” 

There was a pregnant pause, the Dragon Queen and the King in the North staring at each other, either one not willing to back down. 

“The Boltens were northern,” I finally spoke up, eyeing the two. They both look up at me. “Second most powerful House in the North after the Starks. Tell me, were they better than Southern rulers?” 

Jon opened his mouth to interject but I cut him off. “Is your pride more important than your people's survival?” 

Jon closes his mouth, standing down while Daenerys seems pleased that I was there to deliver the final blow. There’s another moment of silence as Jon mulls over our words.

“The torch.” I say, conusfung Jon and Daenerys. “Hand me the torch.” 

Confused, he hands me the torch. Daenerys frowns, “are there more paintings?” 

Jon shakes his head. “No, Your Grace.” 

“There are.” I step between them, walking deeper into the cave. “Let me show you what I saw that night.” 

Silently, they followed me, Jon looking between Daenerys and I. I lit the way for the three of us, my eyes bouncing off of the walls for the markings. I stopped suddenly, staring at the wall on my right. There. 

I moved to the torch forwards, revealing the full mural. Daenerys brushed past a bewildered Jon and stood by me. Surprisingly, my necklace didn’t react like it did before, allowing me to fully see the mural. 

There, same emblem as my necklace; two dragons entwined around a sword with a ruby at the hilt in the middle of a dragon eating itself, like the drawing of a snake eating itself. There also seemed to be a message written below, although crudely. The symbols mirrored the glyphs used in Valyrian, enough for someone to decipher it, but almost illegible. I moved the torch closer to the nearly faded symbols. When I had gone to see the paintings, before I was brought here, everything was smudged but still legible while the words were completely faded away.

“What does it say?” Daenerys asks. 

I carefully read aloud. “ābrar iā morghon.” 

“What does that mean?” 

“Life or Death.” 

–––

The walk back to the entrance of the cave was quiet, each one of us deep in our heads. When we reached the entrance Davos and Missandei were joined by Varys who held two raven scrolls. He glances over the three of us before bowing, handing off the ravens to Daenerys. She opened one, reading the contents and pocketing it. She eyed the other, this one tied in red ribbon, on the side a word was written. Knowingly, Daenerys handed it off to a confused Missandei. 

Daenerys and I smiled at each other, like giggling school girls before she turned her attention back to the people around us. 

“The Westerlands and the Reach are now fully secured.” Daenerys announced. 

“That means Cersei has the Crownlands and, what? The Stormlands?” I hum. “If they haven’t turned on her yet.” 

“She’s surrounded.” Daenerys says, elated. 

“Don’t be quick to sound so excited. We still have a long ways to go.” I say. “She still has whatever remains of Euron’s fleet, the remaining Lannister army and the city's watch, and, if she can, which I doubt, the Golden Company.” 

“How is she to gain the Golden Company's support if we’ve stopped her plan?” Missandei asks. 

She wasn’t wrong. Cersei’s grand plan to gain the Myrish sellsword company’s favor was to sack Highgarden and by herself an army and supposedly elephants, but now that Daenerys and I have foiled that plan, while also dealing a heavy blow to her army, she has almost no options. But we still have to be vigilant. Everything was going well for Daenerys originally, until she was dealt blow after blow to the point of madness. 

“There’s other ways,” I answer. “The Red Keep is the Targaryens' second home. Every King from Aegon the first to Aenys has walked those halls. It’s littered with Targaryen artifacts, not to mention that there are nineteen known dragon skulls under the Red Keep, and many more that we don’t know.” I shake my head, “she still has a way to gain their favor.” 

Daenerys grimaced at the thought of Cersei being in possession of her family's items whether it be a simple pot or the dragon skulls of all the dragons that had remained after the Doom. 

“Then what do we do?” She asks me. 

“We wait.” I say. “We out number her, no doubt. But we can’t rush or else we’ll make a mistake and create an opening for her to strike on. We must stay vigilant.” 

Everyone agrees, understanding the full degree of things. We had one shot, one opportunity to take the throne, and rushing was not an option.

Daenerys turned to Jon. “Tell your men to continue their mining, if you require more hands, tell me and I’ll put my men to good work.” 

“Also,” I turned to Jon. “Light as much of the cave as you can. Preferably past those markings. And tell your men not to touch them, they’re already faded as it is, we don’t need them wiped away.” 

“I understand.” Jon bows to Daenerys and I before he and Ser Davos walk away to begin their work. 

––

Everyone in the castle is asleep except for Daenerys and I, lounging in the Painted Chamber. The hearth is lit and a platter of bread, fruit, and wine is laid out for us. On the table an Unsullied figurine stood on both Highgarden and Casterly Rock. The Martel sigil stood tall on Sunspeer and a Kraken on the Iron Islands while in the North stood a Direwolf. The only Lion remaining on the map was on King’s Landing.

“All these allies, all these soldiers yet I’m still not close enough to my goal.” Daenerys mumbles, a cup of wine in hand. 

“You will,” I plucked a grape off the vine, plopping it into my mouth. “There’s still a long ways to go.” 

She takes another swig of wine, “how far ahead are we?”

I lean back on the sofa, head tilted up. “We stopped them mid way to Highgarden, which is about a day and a half ride to and from King's Landing. Capturing Casterly Rock only took half a day, thanks to the new armor and weapons that Tyrion’s raven mentioned. If I had to guess, four or five days.” 

“That’s it?” 

“It’s not much, but at times of war every day counts.” 

We settle into silence, Daenerys planning what to do next while I try to fight off sleep.

“They’ll starve.” 

“Hm?” I slowly open my eyes. 

“The people of King’s Landing, they’ll starve. We’ve cut off their food by taking both the Rock and the Reach.” 

I nod. “We have.” 

Daenerys pauses. “But you already knew that.” 

“Mm-hmm.” I sighed through my nose, sitting up. “Out of everyone in King’s Landing, Cersei has the most food. And if she’s such a benevolent ruler, then she’ll distribute it to the smallfolk.” 

“But she wont.” 

“Exactly. Civil unrest will ensue and the people's hate for Cersei will get worse.” 

Daenerys sighed, placing the glass of wine on the table. “How did Aegon do it?” 

I watched her tired expression carefully. “He had his sisters. Visenya mostly focused on the war aspect of the campaign while Rhaenys focused on allies and the smallfolk.”

“There’s only two of us.” 

No there aren’t. 

“We’ll see.” I finished the cup of wine. “Speaking of, how is your and Jon Snow’s relationship?”

Daenerys turns a light shade of red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Sure.” I say, not convinced. “Have you shown him the dragons?”

She shook her head. “They’d eat him alive.” 

“I won’t be so sure.”

She watches me pick off some more grapes. 

“ābrar iā morghon. Life or Death.”

I stopped what I was doing, slowly glancing up to meet Daenerys’ gaze. 

“What does it mean?” She asks aloud. “What does any of it mean?”

I take a moment, rubbing my face. “Maybe it’s asking us to pick.” 

“Between life or death?” 

I hummed. “Do you know what a dragon eating itself means?”

She shakes her head. 

“It represents the eternal cycle of rebirth and destruction.” I say, absentmindedly swirling my finger in a circle. “It’s supposed to be a snake, but instead this one is a dragon.” 

“And this dragon represents you?”

“No, you. Well, rather your house, I guess.” I dropped my hand, folding them on top of my stomach. “For centuries the Targaryens have tethered between destroying itself and thriving. It’s asking you to pick life or death. Do you want to be the reason why the Targaryens finally tip over and destroy itself or the reason it thrives for generations to come.” 

She sighs, frowning. “I came here to reclaim my family’s throne, but now that I’m here I’ve been told of the Army of the Dead and now that the fate of my house rests in my hand.” 

I stand up, moving to sit next to her. “I know, it’s a lot. But you can do it.” 

Her eyes wander over to the map of Westeros, landing on the Lion on King’s Landing and the Dragon on Dragonstone, facing one another. The stone carved lion mocked the dragon. If it could speak it would definitely be saying something along the lines of “I dare you, pussy. Do something,” but more in an old Westerosi fashion. 

“One step at a time,” I reached over for her hand. “Everything will fall into place and you’ll have Cersei at her knees and the throne in your hands.” 

a/n: another chapter for you lovely people. i was wondering, now that we're getting closer to climax of the story (night king and cersei) how would you guys feel if i also wrote some side stories that would take place after the main one? smt like life after taking back the throne and what not, lmk ur thoughts.

@wotcherpeak @music-luver25 @your-favorite-god @radiantdanvers @cluelessteam @daenerys713 @ministark @laanswife @idohknow @jromanoff @bdudette @bitchyfestivalbouquet @glitteryobjecttaco @cantbecreative @lovelyteenagebeard @the0twst0shrimp0mc @sucker4seresin @marytargaryen @naneko31 @9tailedfoxfire @iilsenewman @ivyrose9194 @coffee-is-my-oxygen @mysterypotatoink @bitchycolletorvoid @nattysplatty @wifiatthetrainstation @nymeriiiia

[ssahotchnerr]

Hello, I have a request. How about Aaron going costume shopping and Aaron loses her FOR A MINUTE before he finds her where all the princess and fairy costumes are. Like she is completely mesmerized by costumes that she doesn’t notice Aaron picking her up and saying “I’m reconsidering making you a leash kid, you know” but he doesn’t really mean it and she’s just pointing at a costume “I want this one, daddy!”

jumpscares

i changed this up a tiny bit but the overall concept is still there <33 cw; fem!reader, protective girl dad!aaron (small angst), jack calls reader mom, references to your usual cm violence, halloween and fluff!! wc; 1k

"Dad, c'mon." Jack whined in slight impatience and excitement, prying the door open and hanging back slightly on the handle.

"We can only move so fast bud." Aaron responded, maintaining his current pace. We as in Ellie. Her tiny legs limited her speed, she was practically skipping to keep up with just him. "The costumes aren't going anywhere."

With the holiday quickly approaching and Jack's insistent worries the cool costumes will be gone soon - while you ran necessary errands of your own, he had been tasked with taking the kids to the Halloween store.

Upon entering, Aaron lost Ellie's hand almost immediately as she halted, causing it to slip abruptly from his grasp.

She was frozen in place with her gaze directed forward, keeping a generous distance from the frightful animatronics greeting the three of them at the entrance.

A scowl was on her face; it didn't appear she wasn't necessarily scared, but a mix of disgust and worry were vividly present instead.

"They're not real sweetheart." Aaron tried to reassure, his gaze softening. "They're just decorations."

"I don't like that one." Ellie grabbed his hand, using her other to point at the menacing, horrific clown. "He looks mean."

"He does, doesn't he?" Aaron agreed, his mouth drawing into a pensive line as he played along. "But that's okay. They're meant to be for fun."

"They're not very fun."

The three began wandering through the display of frightful animatronics, led by Jack, a good idea in theory. Jack disciplinarily left Aaron's mouth a few times, as he attempted to get his sister to step on the sensors in order to get spooked.

Ellie ended up in his hold, gripping onto the collar of his t-shirt while Jack indulged himself in getting delightfully jumpscared. She merely watched, each burst of sound causing her to scoot closer into her father, more like her shield.

"Alright, let's find what we came here for." Aaron placed Ellie down, Jack beginning to browse as they reached the costumes. "It is a school night. We can't be out too late."

Selecting a costume, or even brainstorming an idea was bound to a lengthy task, the two of them utterly indecisive. Ellie adored every costume they passed, had to stop, look and point it out. Jack, on the other hand, was pursuing a more silent, observational strategy.

"Anything sticking out?"

"Maybe Spiderman?"

"You never stick to Spiderman." Aaron reminded him with a small smile, the fond memory of when Jack dressed up as him coming to mind - easily within his top five Dad moments of all time.

"Yeah... so maybe not that." Jack breathed out a huff, his eyes continuing to peer around. "Or we can all be superheroes." He poked an adult Batman costume, causing it to sway. "You can be this, and then Mom can be Wonder Woman or something."

Aaron nodded slowly, although he personally didn't plan on dressing up. But could he be persuaded by you and the kids? Maybe. "That could be fun."

"And then Ellie could be Spidergirl-"

Speaking of Ellie, she had grown suspiciously quiet - her chatter stopping altogether. Aaron's eyes shot down, only to find Ellie not besides him.

Jack was the one who verbalized it, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. "Where'd Ellie go?"

Panic immediately swept through him, his heart rate heightening and his body succumbing to a numbing freeze. Fuck.

Suddenly, he didn't know whether or not his knowledge of child abductions were an advantage or disadvantage; knowing how to act quickly, but also the unfortunate outcomes.

his mind instantly shot to the conversations he had with victim's familiies with what felt like daily. The scenario had turned- he was in their shoes. And just as they all stated in their interviews: He should've been paying closer attention. He only looked away for a minute. He knew these things - why did he look away?

Attempting to push the statistics in the back of his mind, he was on the move, Jack following right at his heels.

"Ellie?"

Luckily the fear was short lived; she was two aisles over, captivated by the girliest costumes one could imagine, very Ellie-esque.

"Eleanor." Aaron breathed out in relief as he saw his piggytail-headed daughter, sweeping her right off her feet again. "You know better than to wander off."

"I wanna be this." Ellie pried a princess costume off the rack, Aaron paused as he lifted her so she could remove it successfully. "Can I Daddy? I really wanna."

"Well, let's make sure it's your size." He took it, doublechecking and allowing his heart rate to calm down. Upon confirmation, his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you sure you want to be this? Or do you want to be a superhero with Jack?"

"I wanna be a princess." Ellie insisted, a pleading tone within her voice. "Pretty please?"

"Sure, if that's what you want. We'll have to find you a crown too, or use one from home, it doesn't seem to be included." She nodded as Aaron tucked the packaging under his elbow, allowing him to hold both it and her. However, his demeanor switched over to one more serious. "But hey, look at me please."

Her adjacent brown eyes met his own; a touch of fault, and sincereness. She knew she had disobeyed in one way or another. And whenever she did, it was written all over on her face.

"No running off, okay?" He instructed sternly, but gently. "It's really important I can always see you, and you can always see me. We don't want you getting lost, yeah?"

She shook her head. "That would be bad."

"Very bad. Mom would not be happy with me if I came home without you." Aaron affirmed, eyebrows raised. "Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes we do." She replied cheerily, oblivious to the heart attack she had just given her father. "No running away."

"Thank you." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, exhaling and the tension in his shoulders alleviating. Ellie was fine. No need for further panicking. Everything was fine.

And Jack, ever the dear, comically inputted, a witty grin plastered on his face. "Maybe Ellie should be the Flash instead."

[kaybreezy3000]

The Boy A Five Hargreeves / Female Reader Insert

Created for an Anon request (rated mature for explicit sexual content)

Warnings: 18-yr old Five, Lots of Smut, Five being soft and also not, CIA setting but with none of the other things happening from season 4

Anonymous asked:

will you do one or just some scenes with Five being soft with a girl he's falling for? Like first kiss stuff or other more intimate things between them? Or any stuff with him letting his guard down for someone for the first time- not with Lila please. Explicit or not explicit. Anything like this. Ty:⁠-⁠*

(For those of you who are awesome and have read all my stuff before this little smut filled story, you might notice some similarities in this one to some things my 16-year-old version of Five went through in 'Number Five and the Girl.' No worries this is much different, but I thought I'd mention it because so much of what I've written already could have filled this request, so I borrowed some ideas from hot little moments I'd sort of done before to add some fun to this Five's adventure.)

Note~This quarter end treat is broken into 5 parts of smutty progression-Your Welcome😂

The Boy

Part One: The Push

Like you had been for the last two months since Five had been assigned as your mentor and you started training with him, there you were, attached at the hip.

Walking down the hall towards your room at the CIA training facility, instead of him treating you to his endless cold glares and his usual lines of belittling bullshit, Five didn’t seem to mind as much that he’d been paired with you. Today, he seemed more than okay with it as indicated by the way he had been eyeing you up like he wanted to do much more than spar with you while the other recruits made jokes about you kicking his ass and him being not that much bigger than you.

After asking him if he’d like to come back to your room so you could change into something warmer and then go get something to eat together somewhere better than the CIA building’s cafeteria, like he’d never done before, Five followed you, but then he was hesitating at the threshold of your room.

Playing the gentlemen and your superior, you could tell that he wasn't going to budge, so you reached out and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him. Five Hargreeves was not the type to be led by anyone, and before this he had been acting like he loathed you, so him giving in so easily was very surprising, but also very encouraging.

You had felt the tension building between you all day. On the outside, Five seemed calm and in control like always, but his eyes gave him away. The way he looked at you told you a much different story when it came to him wanting to keep things strictly professional.

Feeling braver, you started thinking.

Earlier, while you were with him in training, Five and the other agents were talking about how most altercations aren’t the type where you get to stand and face each other, and even worse, during the fight, you usually both end up on the ground where things get dirty. They all said you needed to practice more realistic scenarios, but Five, as your assigned partner, didn’t seem too keen on putting his hands on you in any way that may have been considered too rough, but he also didn’t want to let anyone else touch you.

To your shock, as Five braced himself behind you, directing you to get out of his chokehold, his embrace was more like that of a lover than an attacker, his soft breaths tickling your ear from behind as they cascaded down your neck. When he ordered you to drop to your knees, your mind going all sorts of places, other than where it should have been, you did as you were told, throwing all your weight back into him.

Falling back, your body landing on top of him, he started laughing at you, and his laughter was almost just as alarming as his dimpled smile that had been charming you anytime he had been willing to grace you with it over the last few weeks.

You had just crushed him, almost elbowing him in the dick, but the thing worrying you wasn’t his nuts. You were falling for him-hard.

On your walk back to the dorms, giving Five a hard time about constantly treating you like you were made of glass, you said, “Why not start practicing more realistic takedowns? Why are you handling me with kid gloves?”

Five gave you one of his adorable side smirks as he leaned in, whispering in your ear, “I can be harder on you if you really want, but I’d prefer to do that with you without an audience of assholes.”

Hmmm? You were alone now?

Five was looking around, taking in the general chaos that was the room you’d been sharing with one of the other trainees. His eyes stopped on your bed.

“Sorry. It’s really messy in here,” you said.

Five looked back up. “No, it’s not bad. Don’t apologize. You should have seen the messes my siblings made of things in the house I grew up in. This is nothing.” He laughed nervously.

“Didn’t you say you had five brothers and one sister? That’s a lot of male mess going on. Where was it you said you grew up again?”

Five didn’t answer. Instead, he sucked in his lower lip, wetting it as he looked around again. He glanced over at the few things you were allowed to keep with you while in training. He swallowed. He was staring at you so intently. He was so hard to read sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.

Now he was making you nervous.

He cleared his throat as his lips turned up again. “I like working with you," he said, casually tucking his hands in his pockets. "A lot actually."

Five had no idea how handsome he was with those animated expressions of his, or how cute he was right now, awkwardly flirting with you. Not wanting to break the magical moment that was happening, you decided to flirt with him right back.

“So, you wanted to see how I handle a little groundwork, but in private?” you dangled while raising both your eyebrows in question.

He shrugged his shoulders while tilting his head to the side. “It’s not a bad idea if you want to be able to defend yourself.”

There was an air of the usual superiority in his tone that was so irritatingly him.

You scrunched your nose. “I think I can defend myself pretty damn well already, Mr. Perfect. I’m warning you now, I know how to get down and dirty. You are the one that’s the closeted softy.” You came forward, backing him closer to your bed as you moved your hand down his arm until your fingers brushed the underside of his left wrist.

Five visibly tensed, as if you’d touched him in a painful way, but there was no sign outwardly why that was. Looking down at the flawless patch of skin under your fingers, he came back to himself. “You're allowed to believe that, but it doesn’t mean you’re right,” he taunted, smiling back at you innocently.

Without warning, you pulled him closer. With a quick spin, you twisted his arm behind him. Then, throwing all your weight into it, you pushed Five on your bed.

He landed on your blankets face down, and you quickly leaped on top of him, pinning his arms behind his back to restrict his movement before he could retaliate.

“Impressive,” he huffed, laughing as he lay there, pretending to be vanquished.

You knew he wasn’t that easy to take down. He let you get him, but you were enjoying the moment anyway.

Your victory didn’t last long, despite your best efforts. Five effortlessly ripped his arms free of your hold. Then he sprang up from the bed, sweeping you up with him before nailing you down on the mattress.

In one swift motion, he had you pinned with your arms above your head. He lay over you, forcing your legs wide with his knees.

“You always need to be alert and ready for anything," he scolded. "Things can change in the blink of an eye. If you let your guard down, you may find yourself in a position you don't want to be in."

The way he was schooling you, you knew he was genuinely trying to teach you something, but you were also surer than ever that he was testing you in a whole different kind of way that had nothing to do with your training.

“Oh, I don’t know about not wanting to be in this situation..." You gave him a playful wink, one you knew would fluster him. "The view is not too bad down here. For all you know, I may have wanted to be in this position. Maybe it was all part of my master plan. Did you ever think of that, smarty pants?” 

Five’s cool smile melted into something feral looking.

All at once he secured both your wrists in one of his hands. Then he painstakingly slowly ran the fingers of his other hand down the sensitive underside of your exposed left arm.

“Oh FFffff! Five! Ss-stop that's, please sto-” you laughed and gasped, wriggling like a manic as you tried to escape his maddeningly gentle touch.

He didn’t relent. His eyes darkened as he looked down at you. You had nothing on but your cropped workout top and equally tight spandex shorts and he was in his usual gym clothes of athletic shorts and a black t-shirt. You’d been training together like that for hours, but all of sudden your lack of normal skin covering clothing was making this feel much different than if you’d been sitting together with him helping you study while he was dressed in his signature three-piece suit and you in your more female version of business attire.

You were in your bed of all places, and that look in his eyes, and the feeling of him pressing himself on you the way he was!

He looked so unbelievably hot and there you were laughing so hard you could hardly breathe. “Seriously, that tickles!”

“Awww,” he drawled, while looking fake sorry for you. “Ever hear that saying, you reap what you sow? I felt you trying to get a rise out of me with those evil girl talons of yours. You made me look like an fucking idiot today on the mats when you dug your fingers into my ribs, and you know damn well what you were doing had nothing to do with self-defense.”

Your frantic pleas to make him stop only seemed to spur him on more, because after that, his hand danced along the length of your exposed side, then down your quivering stomach.

“Five Hargreeves…I think they are right, you don’t fight fair,” you accused in between breathless panting for him to stop.

“Doesn’t matter if you fight fair. It only matters if you win.” The sultry tenor of Five’s voice as he leaned down, humming against your skin, only furthered your inability to think.

To add to your shock, he began peppering kisses along your shoulder, then up your neck to your widely gaped jaw.

Five was not affectionate. He was dangerously smart, aloof, and even scary sometimes, but with that maneuver, he’d just proved that there was more to him than the closed off person he wanted people to stay away from.

His gentle fingers trailed across your abdomen, sending shivers through your entire body. Perhaps feeling you struggling to hold yourself together, or maybe just because he was an arrogant shit, Five suddenly had to bury his loud burst of laughter into your neck, and with it, he let his nose brush against your skin in such a loving way it made you squirm all over again.

“Doesn’t really seem to bother you…me not fighting fair and all,” he breathed. He smiled against your neck as he brought his lips back down to your shoulder.

You were pretty sure he said something else after that, but for the life of you, you couldn’t concentrate enough to register what it was, not when his teeth were lightly nipping at the bottom of your ear and his fingers were moving back up, his thumb grazing over the mounded fabric of your top.

As he let out the quietest moan from the feel of your breasts under his hand, you couldn’t help it either as you hummed in approval while your body reactively rocked up against him.

As soon as you did that, Five abruptly pulled back from his onslaught of kisses, his hand lowering as he attempted to shift himself so he wasn’t lying on top of you as much. He looked down at you, his expression unreadable as he sucked in a breath, as if needing the extra air to voice what was on his mind, but instead of coming out with it, he grimaced and looked away, seeming to think better of it. 

Your faces were still so close, so you rose up on your shoulders, as much as he’d let you, clearing the gap. You quietly said his name, wishing he would just look at you again. It sounded like a plea, and it was.

Five’s lips collided with yours. He released your hands, while at the same time pivoting his weight on both his forearms so he could better control how much of his weight he was pressing into you.

His kiss was urgent, and wild, and beautifully sloppy, like he’d never done this before. 

He was becoming more and more agitated the more he let himself explore your mouth with his breathlessly trembling lips. His breathing was becoming heavier, and you could tell he wanted to move his hips into your pelvis more than he was already rocking and digging them against you.

It must have felt so good to him as is though, because he was getting hard, and the young man, who for the last few months was never the type to show any sign of vulnerability, actually whimpered, and holy fuck was that hot.

Shocked by his own verbal moment of weakness, Five pulled away again, but just as fast, you placed both your hands on the sides of his face and steered him back. Kissing him softly, you let your tongue run along his lower lip.

He shut his eyes. His expression looked so pained. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” he whispered. “I am not who you think I am. If you knew all the horrible things I have done, you wouldn’t look up to me the way you do.” He opened his eyes. “On top of all that, I am way too old for you.”

Sure… Okay. All this had to be because Five was just worried that he was your mentor and that this kind of relationship wasn’t something your superiors would be okay with. That made sense, but…

You smiled, then said, “Oh my God, Five! Who says I look up to you? And I am older than you, you self-absorbed jerk who apparently never bothered to read my bio.” 

With that and his exceptionally sour expression that followed your declaration, you started laughing at him, and the entire situation because you were older. Only by a year, but really…What was he talking about?

Five opened his mouth a few times while trying to figure out a retort, so you came at him before he could, pulling his bottom lip with your teeth with kittenish feistiness, and that seemed to rattle him like nothing else had so far, and it sent him coming back at you like a man being torn apart from the inside out.

After that, Five started to let his tongue and teeth explore more freely and it was clear that was something he had wanted to do, only like all of this, he hadn’t been sure of it being okay until you’d pushed him and made the first move.

He always smelled good. You knew that before, but wow. Five tasted like what you'd think comfort would taste like if it had a taste; like the warmth of good coffee mixed with an old-fashioned dinner mint. He was the embodiment of pleasure, and his lean body was built to move in more ways than you’d seen him work it while in the gym when beating the shit out of the other much larger agents.

Having your hands free to do as they wished, you dropped them both down under Five as he lifted up just a little, moving his dick region so it wasn't rubbing as much between your legs as it had been.

You let the tips of your fingers drift down the length of his tight stomach muscles, moving them with a feather-light touch. You inched them along slower and slower after you passed over his navel, going up under his shirt, following the thin trail of dark hair that led from there, down into his shorts.

Five's hands clenched in the sheets at your sides as he fought to hold still. Every muscle in his abdomen shuddered under your touch, quivering in anticipation as you played with the dangling strings that were meant to keep his shorts around his waist.

He pulled away from your kiss to catch his breath, burrowing his face against the side of your neck. “Holy Shit…” he breathed, in between his wet kisses. His body, involuntarily, it seemed, dropped lower, his torso falling flush against the heat between your legs again for just a moment before he quickly readjusted his hips on the mattress next to you.

Before he could fully right himself by pulling back up on his elbows and roll away from you completely, you brought your hand back up to his neck, your fingers lacing through his incredibly soft hair. "It felt good, don’t stop," you whispered.

Looking utterly broken; he began kissing your neck, moving upwards again as he simultaneously started to move his shaft against the side of your leg.

Five nipped at your ear harder than he had been before and the sensation had you digging your nails across his back, and that seemed to excite him even more. In a frenzy, he started to run his tongue along, first the shell of your ear, then anywhere he could get at, and based on the noises he was making, he liked how you tasted.

That boy was good, and not just with a gun while at the shooting range. The ache between your legs was becoming more apparent with each shameless thing he did to you.

When Five satisfied himself with marking your neck, he moved to your collarbone. It felt like he was studying every inch of you with his mouth, gauging your reactions as he went. He first kissed, then licked, then sucked gently along the rolling plains of your rapidly rising and falling chest. It felt so amazing that you had to dig your feet into the bed to contain yourself.

"Fuck," he groaned as he threw his leg over yours and repositioned himself fully on top of you.

You whined as his hardened length nudged between your legs, then cruelly moved away. Thankfully, the sound of your discontent seemed to make Five bolder, and he did it again, then moved his mouth lower, applying kisses along the edges of your workout top, playfully pulling it up with his teeth.

Your toes curled as you squirmed under him in anticipation, and so far, he hadn't even used his hands for anything other than to hold your wrists above your head!

You were both oblivious to the world going on around you when suddenly you pulled your attention away from him because you thought you heard something. Five must have heard it too because all at once he stopped what he was doing. His entire body froze.

“Ahem,” coughed a voice from over Five's shoulder.

You leaned up, peering over him. Even before seeing her, you knew who it was.

“Hey…” you offered weakly, not bothering to hide your embarrassment from your roommate because there was no point. 

She was already smiling like a total goofball, and her expression grew bigger and happier as she took in the extent of your blushing state and that of your equally turned-on partner in crime.  

Loving it, she mouthed, “Is that who I think it is?”

The slow shake of your head confirmed her suspicions. She cleared her throat obnoxiously, then said, “It’s about time you guys got past all your staring at each other with puppy dog eyes of disgusting longing.”

With his face still buried against your neck, Five let out the tiniest sound, like that of the sad little puppy she’d just compared him to, then he growled, “You have no idea what you are talking about because I have never looked at anyone like that.”

“Er, whatever you say… So, ah…sorry guys. I will just, ah…go,” your friend said as she jerked her finger and thumb back towards the hall, but she was still dawdling, enjoying the site of Five, laying there still as could be, trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t just busted while trying to dry fuck you like you were both horny teenagers that were still in high school.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Five groaned, as he started moving off of you.

Your roommate was leaving at that point, but hearing Five's frustrated oration, she turned back around, shooting you a huge cat just ate the canary grin before quietly shutting the door behind her.

Next to you, Five tipped his head back as he stared up at the ceiling. It looked like he was praying it would fall on him.

He sighed exasperatedly. “Can’t I ever get a break?”

It was obvious Five was upset about getting walked in on because this could mean his job, but you also knew that he had to be upset because he’d just totally been cock-blocked, and if he hadn't been, you weren’t sure what would have happened or how far things would have gone. 

Thinking of the impressively engorged package he was dealing with in his sexy gym shorts, you rolled over, facing him, your lower lip pouty. “Ah, yeah… So....that sucked,” you said, stating the obvious as you tried to suppress your giggle.

Five just stared at you and groaned again. By the look on his face, you were pretty sure he was ready to die, and you weren’t about to let that happen, so you were about to suggest a different kind of sucking, but first you thought you should address his other big concern.

“Hey, don’t worry," you said, laying your hand on his tensed forearm. "I swear she won’t say anything. She already knew I had a huge crush on you. Lots of girls here would die to be in my shoes because that would mean they would get to enjoy your scowls and contemptuous comments all day like I do.” You tried a reassuring smile, getting serious. “Really, she’s trustworthy.”

What you said seemed to help. At least it brought a smile back to Five’s tightly pursed lips.

“You are full of shit,” he shot back, not believing you, but about which part, you weren’t sure. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter,” he continued before you could insist that you weren’t lying about any of it. “If she says anything, I am done, but at least I got to hump you for three minutes, so that was totally worth throwing away five years of my hard work to get myself in this pathetically lame position that I’ve waited a lifetime to totally fuck up.”

He threw a hand over his face, then back into his chocolatey mess of hair.

Somehow, Five managed to sound both irritated, but also so funny, which was just one of the many things that made you like him so much. The light in his eyes was coming back and he hadn’t tried to touch you again, and he'd also not let up on the blanket he was using to cover himself. It was obvious your little moment with him was over, and he was doing his best to calm himself down, but something else seemed off.

You frowned, but you weren’t mad at all because you mostly understood why he’d said all that. You’d feel awful if he was let go because of you. Everyone knew that Five was amazing at his job. He was a bona fide genius the CIA had found at a very young age while he was crushing his studies to get through his PhD. His being a fully contracted agent in the CIA at so young was unheard of.

Compared to him, you were only there as an intern and had years ahead of you to actually get hired and prove yourself the way he already had.

Once you managed to control your brain again, you finally responded, and stopped staring at him like you wanted to be devoured by his perfect mouth.

You took your hand off his arm, then quietly said, “I suppose you’d rather not get lunch with me now?”

His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head in that way of his. “I suppose, it would be better if we didn’t,” he said with eyebrows furrowed slightly, indicating he was upset about something, but if it was about getting busted and potentially losing his job or something more, you couldn’t tell.

“That’s it then…? That is unless you want to stay," you offered, then purposely glanced at your bedding still bunched to his crotch. "You could show me a few more moves?” 

After a few seconds, Five cleared his throat and grinned, making your heart skip a beat. “We better not do that again,” he said, then he looked away. “You go first. I just need a minute. I’ll lock your door on the way out.”

“Okay,” you replied, your heart sinking through the floorboards.

"Okay," he agreed.

He lay there on his side, head propped up on his arm, you threw on a baggy sweatshirt and some jogging pants. After covering yourself, you turned. “See you later?”

“Sure,” he said, still staring off as if you weren’t even there.

Chapter Two: 

Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes

Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.

He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.

That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.

He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of youthful hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.

Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent and unsuspecting piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.

“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed. 

His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.

Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.

Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies was right there squeezed in next to him.

His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.

He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day, and he believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.

Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.

He had already touched those perky pillows and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.

Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.

Being around you made him forget all the bad things, if even for just a while.

It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.

It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.

That thought got him asking himself the question, When did I become such a perverted degenerate?

He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, reading over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off. He remembered how comfortable he was with you there with him. He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, touching his things. He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.

Now there you were, his arm wrapped around you, laying over your hip, and his hand was in an area that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.

It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, or he was pretty sure he was.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled at himself.

He had no right to, but Five had you spooned into him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.

He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.

Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.

“Is it morning already?” you complained.

The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.

If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like the ghost of a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.

Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.

You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.

“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"

You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.

“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.

Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.

“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no other words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.

The clock on his wall ticked for felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or god help him…Five didn’t know anymore.

Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.

“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward and damning than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.

Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, and your fingers were already playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.

He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation. 

You grinned at him in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”

“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.

You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your devil-may-care grin on your rosy lips. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong, it’s not even midnight.”

You very purposefully moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants with your thigh and he accidentally let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.

“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you you like that.

The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that… 

 What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.

“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.

He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect ambushing him, and preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.

“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”

Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”

The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his shirt even tighter in your grip.

You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now, I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”

The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him..

Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.

It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.

Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.

Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.

You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.

It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm, and she was him, and you were…fuck.

Dolores knew him. You didn’t.

Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.

In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this so many times, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.

Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'

He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.

“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips trail along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl.

You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.

You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his dress shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time. 

Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.

Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”

He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.

“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.

Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.

When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.

Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.

“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.

“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.

Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.

You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.

Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway.  He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear. 

Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?

He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.

Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.

You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having your tits in his mouth.

Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.

The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.

He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.

He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.

“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.

“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.

You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.

“Good, because I don’t want to stop," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.

As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.

Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.

After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.

As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.

He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.

Your hand obediently tightened.

There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.

Fuck. He was going to come already.

“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.

His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.

Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.

Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.

Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.

You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.

Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…

He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...

When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.

Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.

“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.

You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”

How does one say sorry for that…Five wondered, then came up with an answer.

‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'

Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.

Holy hell, he felt stupid.

“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.

The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.

It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.

He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you to begin with.

He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"

You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.

“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.

“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.

“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”

Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.

Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up, and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.

If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?

“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.

He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.

Knock, knock, knock…

“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.

Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but….but I thought it might be better if I came back.”

“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.

As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.

Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he silently fumed while rolling his eyes at himself.

Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.

Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves for him. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.

“Evening, Frank.”

The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.

Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness before tomorrow, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.

Turning back, you flipped him the bird.

Five smiled.

Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get him.

If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away from this.

Part Two:  Five Said No, But Morning Glory Says Yes

Right on que, Five woke up with his dick harder than an oak.

He was lying there on the couch in his office, having fallen asleep while working late. Back when he’d started at the CIA, not even done with college yet, he often did this, but that usually involved drinking too much then passing out.

That kind of behavior was nothing new for him, but he hadn’t done that in a while. Relieved that he didn’t have the brain throbbing start of a hangover nagging at him, he kept his eyes closed tight, like he could get his dick to go back to sleep if he willed it.

He tried to ignore it, he really did, but thanks to his physical age and the power of youthful hormones raging, his increasingly bothersome boner alarm proved impossible to turn off.

Taking a long, tired breath, then letting it out slowly, Five started mentally preparing himself for another wake and whack session to add to his already impressive record.

He couldn’t remember what he’d been dreaming about, only that you were together, and you were touching him down there or maybe he was touching you down there. Whatever it had been about, it didn’t matter, because once again, Five had woken up before he’d got off, and was ready to send forth his load into an innocent and unsuspecting piece of clothing, only he wasn’t at home, so he’d have to find something else nearby to catch his mess instead. Anything would do, even destroying the shitty plastic tree someone had put on the floor next to his couch.

“Fuck that Ficus,” he breathed. 

His hand flexed, ready to spring into action and get this over with, and in doing so, it rubbed along skin that was not his own. To his shock, his arm was laying over something warm and alive, and that had him immediately realizing the pressure pressed up against his hard-on was not from the couch cushion or one of the pillows.

Five never would have admitted it unless he happened to be using it for his job as a cover story while trying to fit in with other lunatics, but like so often, he was having trouble differentiating between reality and fantasy.

Seeing as how he’d woken up on more than a couple of occasions unsure if his dreams or nightmares were real or not, he couldn’t blame himself for being confused, not entirely, not when the main player in his fantasies was right there squeezed in next to him.

His eyes abruptly focused, taking in his surroundings, confirming what he already should have known. You had both fallen asleep while he was helping you study for your next round of exams, and there you were with him, lying on the couch in the darkness of his quiet office.

He had no idea how he ended up cuddled next to you the way he was, and even though Five had thought about it about a hundred million times since the incident in your room, things hadn’t started back up the way they had that day, and he believed it was for the best, and he’d said as much and you’d respected it, but that didn’t mean it had been easy for him.

Just being around you, doing nothing even remotely flirtatious or sexual in nature was making the tornado of butterflies in his stomach worse each day that he fought to stomp them into submission. There was no denying that, or the perpetual case of blue balls he had from watching you sashay around him in your short skirts and blouses with the top few buttons undone as if daring him to dive into your cleavage again.

He had already touched those perky pillows and he liked doing it way too much. Five liked everything about you. The way you challenged him even when he was being an insufferable jerk. The way you laughed.

Even more than all of that. Five loved the way you smiled at him like you didn’t smile for anyone else.

Being around you made him forget all the bad things, if even for just a while.

It didn’t matter. What he’d done was a mistake. Nobody could ever really care about him if they knew the truth, and you sure as hell wouldn’t believe him. You’d think he was crazy. He’d be fired and maybe even forced into psychiatric care.

It was better this way, but so much for his plan to shut this down, and so much for being good and keeping his hands off when you considered the situation he was in now. In hindsight, looking at the out-of-control horn-ball he had become in the last few weeks, Five knew that he should have scheduled a well-defined whack-off time as a part of his daily routine, then maybe this shit wouldn’t happen when he wasn’t expecting it.

That thought got him asking himself the question, When did I become such a perverted degenerate?

He remembered you reading, leaning back after a while, kicking your heels off. Sitting a few feet away, reading over a briefing Derek had given him earlier that day, Five waited for you to finish your review so he could quiz you again. He felt himself starting to doze off. He remembered how comfortable he was with you there with him. He just wanted to stay like that with you a little longer, with the smell of you filling his lungs, touching his things. He vaguely recalled trying to keep his eyes open and noticing that you looked very tired too.

Now there you were, his arm wrapped around you, laying over your hip, and his hand was in an area that normally he wouldn’t have dared let it venture. It was starting to come back to him each minute he was conscious, and he was almost certain that when he started to wake up, he was grinding his morning monster on your butt, and his hand was touching you between your legs in a very inappropriate way.

It wasn’t just a dream; he had been really doing that, or he was pretty sure he was.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Way to go, fucking creep, he mentally yelled at himself.

He had no right to, but Five had you spooned into him like you were his, and if you were awake, you were definitely able to feel his predicament, and also what he had been doing to you.

He shifted his weight, moving just a little, trying to give you some space and maybe if it was not too late, also try to save some face.

Just as he began to pull his arm off, you started stretching your legs, your feet twisting around his.

“Is it morning already?” you complained.

The smell of your hair filled Five’s lungs again and the pressure from you pushing back against him had his eyes popping wide.

If he had his powers still, he would have blinked away the second he’d realized where he was. That wasn’t an option anymore, but the instinct to do it was still eating at him like the ghost of a spark that kept trying to burst into a flame but couldn’t.

Five was panicking; he didn’t know what to do.

You shifted again, trying to move back, but he found he had nowhere to go. He was trapped between you and the back of the couch.

“I… Ah… It’s not morning yet. I’m sorry I woke you. I must have fallen asleep," Five stammered as he tried to sit up, using the arm under his small couch pillow to push himself up. "I’m going to just-"

You captured his hand as it started slipping over your hip. You pulled him back down and he found himself falling around you again, entrapped in the exact same position.

“You’re so warm, and your office is so cold. Please don’t go yet. I like you as my blanket,” you whined while pushing back, your firm curves warm against his even warmer erection.

Five went ram rod still at the same time you did.

“I am so sorry,” he quickly tried to say, but stopped at that because he found he had no other words that would explain what he’d done. Instead, he forced out the pillow from under his head and then buried his face in it, hiding from his shame like a total jackass.

The clock on his wall ticked for felt like an eternity, neither of you saying a word. You were clearly upset, weirded out, or god help him…Five didn’t know anymore.

Finally breaking the silence, you said, “Five, stop that. You don’t need to be sorry.”

Even though he was still under his shield, Five could tell by your tone that you were trying to console him. Of course, you were the one taking the highroad. Here he was the one almost 42 years older than you and you were the one being mature.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, knowing he had to say something, but still not sure what would make the situation better.

“And to think," he started, "I was worried about what my boss would think if someone here found out about us and talked. It turns out I was worried about the wrong thing. This is so much more awkward and damning than that." He groaned into his shame pillow.

Five felt you move, your hands landing on the throw pillow, forcing him to let go. When he finally had the courage to open his eyes, he was met with yours, and even though it was dark, he could tell you weren’t mad. You had turned your body towards him, and your fingers were already playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Five felt like he was going to die, sure that he would if you didn’t stop touching him like that.

He was thinking about using his arm to cover his face instead of expiring. It was his only option since you’d thrown his pillow out of reach, but then he realized he may have needed more than just his arm to cover him because he could feel everything from his forehead to his chin burning bright red with humiliation. 

You grinned at him in that way he knew meant you were trying to hold back a laugh. “You know, Five... Nobody is talking doom and gloom about this other than you, and why do you think this is awkward?”

“Oh, I don’t know… because of Morning Glory here,” he joked, gesturing down to where the small throw blanket you had pulled with you had thankfully covered the area below his waist, but it didn’t really matter because he knew, and you knew, that he was still sporting a nice sized tent for the second time you’d been alone with him in a week.

You took claim of his hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, keeping your devil-may-care grin on your rosy lips. “Yeah…I don’t really think you can blame that all on it being morning. Unless that clock is wrong, it’s not even midnight.”

You very purposefully moved closer, and all at once, Five felt you press against the villain in his pants with your thigh and he accidentally let out a little puff of airy agitation in response.

“And this isn’t awkward. It’s flattering," you furthered, your sexy smile melting into something a bit silly as you added, “A healthy sexual appetite is nothing to be embarrassed about."

Your intentionally nerdy, sex ed teacher tone had somehow managed to sound even sexier than when you normally teased him, and holy fuck did Five love getting lectured by you you like that.

The dirty old man in him that was thinking about spanking you for trying to steal his role as the teacher didn’t know what to say. You were obviously trying to make him feel better for his little predicament, but he still felt like a creep. Getting morning wood while sleeping next to an extremely hot girl that was way out of your league was one thing, but touching her in her sleep, like that… 

 What the hell was wrong with me? That was not normal! Five privately scolded himself.

“I need to-" He didn’t finish, instead, Five swiftly pushed himself up, and as discreetly as possible made sure ‘woody’ was tucked down against his leg.

He started getting up, and you moved out of his way. He swung his legs to the floor and was about to stand, but he didn’t get any further than that because you quickly turned and swung a leg over his lap, your knees landing on either side of his torso, in effect ambushing him, and preventing his escape as your skirt flared out, covering his lap.

“Hey, not so fast. I am not mad at you, Five. I fell asleep too, so it’s not your fault. Maybe it happened again for a reason. I knew you were dreaming a few minutes ago, so don’t be freaked out about this or what happened the other day. It’s ok, I promise.”

Your fingers moved along his scalp, playing with his hair again. The look on your face was so sincere, but then it quickly changed to something more pensive and playful as you slowly licked your lip then continued. “And just so you know, even if you weren’t dreaming, I would have been ok with what you were doing. You can touch me however and whenever you want. I thought I made that known the other day. You were the one that said no more, not me.”

The more perplexed Five looked, the more devilish you looked. Your fingers dug in as they fell to his shoulders, pulling his shirt even tighter in your grip.

You leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I am so wet for you right now, I am more than ok with how that clever mind of yours works, but the question is, are you, and do you want me to stop trying to convince you how much I want you?”

The things you were saying and your soft breaths on his skin were making Five’s hands shake.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, just as your lips brushed against his cheek and you began kissing him..

Both of Five’s hands latched on to your hips so fast it was like he wasn’t in command of his own body anymore. He felt like he needed something to hold on to, to ground himself, and his hole punch filled morals weren’t working.

It was so much all at once, with real lips on his, and you on his lap and the warmth of your sex so close to his painfully hard cock. Instead of thinking about how 'wet' you said you were, Five tried to distract himself by focusing on your mouth as it moved against his. You obediently opened for him as he urgently searched your lips with the tip of his tongue, pushing for entry. The second you gave, Five darted it inside, feeling the sweet, candy-like warmth that he was coming to know was simply the taste of you.

Beside himself already, Five moaned into your mouth.

Your tongue met his more excitedly after that, and you both pushed each other for more, hardly coming up for air.

You felt so good. What you were doing to him felt so good; it was like he was in another world, with nothing but the two of you.

It was like it was with Dolores, only not at all. That was survival. She was hard and cold. You were soft and warm, and she was him, and you were…fuck.

Dolores knew him. You didn’t.

Like before, Five knew this was wrong, but his hands slipped behind you anyway, pulling you closer as his hips rocked underneath you.

In moments of desperation, Five had held Dolores in his lap like this so many times, and done the same thing, only this was so much different. He could have lost himself completely in the feeling of you and been a very happy man, but his brain kept trying to reboot and intrude.

Even as his cock was getting a nice little ride, his brain was yelling at him to stop. 'Here you go again! This is so fucked-up, and this is obviously not going to help with your not so little problem, and what the hell are you doing? You’re going to ruin this for both of you!'

He pulled away, his breath coming way too fast.

“We shouldn’t do this… I…I can’t-” he whispered, but he couldn’t help it as he let his lips trail along your jaw, trying to repress his agonized growl.

You weren’t buying it, and he wasn't doing a good job selling it. Seeing where your hips were, it was obvious he was more than capable of doing this.

You softly laughed, your breath brushing his skin as your hands explored, first unbuttoning his fitted vest, then untucking his dress shirt, making his entire body quake with the simplest of touch as your fingers crawled up, exposing him, one small button at a time. 

Not used to being touched like that, Five pulled back, dropping his head as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to regain some composure. You weren’t having that either. You continued to caress his heated skin with your fingers moving dangerously close to his waistband.

Unlike him, your intentions were very clear as usual, but your voice came out raspy and sweet and questioning anyway, in total contrast to how you were so self-confidently seducing him. “Five?”

He hesitantly opened his eyes and looked up at you. Your cheeks were flushed, and your lips swollen from his kisses, your eyes full of worry.

“Why are you scared?” A crease appeared between your brows. “What you were doing was perfect and I want you to touch me. I wanted you to touch me all night,” you said, practically moaning your words.

Five was so fucking hard; it was almost more than he could take. All rational thought was gone.

When he came back up to meet you again, claiming your lips, you were ready and willing, tugging him closer with his loosened tie. Not satisfied with his state of undress, or with how you were so successfully dominating him, you quickly undid the knot and whipped the length of silk through his collar, throwing it over his head. You traced your nails down his torso with one hand and laced your fingers through his hair with the other.

Five met your advances, letting his hands float under your blouse, exploring the softness of your skin. When his fingers grazed just below your breasts, he stopped.

“Is this ok?” he asked with his mouth still brushing against your lips.

“Yes. God yes,” you whispered as you dropped your head back, moving yourself against him as he risked letting a finger glide over the lacey fabric of your bra. After a few more tentative touches, you made a soft whining sound. Five looked up, and the look you were giving him was so needy that it could have only matched his own. “They way you touch me…it’s like nobody else has ever touched me. Everything is different with you, Five. I don’t know why but it is,” you breathed.

Relinquishing his hold on your curvy hips, Five slid his hand up your back, proudly only fumbling a few seconds to get the clasp on your bra unhooked.

You let the fabric pull away from you so his fingers could slide under and caress your breasts.

Five leaned in, placing his other hand back on your ass as he buried his face against your neck. He wasn’t brave enough to take off your shirt the way you’d done to him, but this was plenty awe-inspiring anyway.  He relished your body’s reactions to him and the smell of your skin as he lay gentle kisses below your ear. 

Talking to himself in the way he’d spent a lifetime doing and couldn’t seem to break away from, Five asked, Why on earth have I been tormenting myself about this?

He had no answer to that, and Dolores, being not at all on his mind, didn’t chime in and give him any help like she normally did in his times of distress.

Five trailed kisses along your jaw and over your quietly gasping lips as you rocked your body against his cock. He continued to massage your breasts, stopping to feel your nipples as they grew harder, all seemingly because of his tender touch.

You moaned sweetly, letting him know you liked how it felt as he rolled the taut nubs between his fingers. Musing again, Five smiled while thinking that the only thing that would be better would be having your tits in his mouth.

Instead of doing that, he kissed your lips again. The hand Five had on the curve of your waist instinctively pulled you right up against him as his hips jut into yours. The sensation sent him careening, and he had to squeeze his eyes closed and think about something else or Chernobyl number two was going to happen in his pants.

The friction he had thought would help ease things, unfortunately only made it worse. His dick was so hard, it was throbbing in complaint as it lay trapped under his remaining layers of clothes. He could hardly breathe, and even more embarrassing, Five had just let out an animalistically guttural sound that had filled the entire office.

He would have been mortified that he’d done that, but when he opened his eyes, all he saw was your hooded eyes gazing back with no hint of judgment.

He didn’t even realize you had moved your hand from his chest until you were touching him, your palm cupping him tightly through his pants. Five swallowed hard, trying with everything he had not to move as you rubbed along his thigh where his dick had been trapped.

“Fuck-” he croaked out, then bit the inside of his cheek in an effort to be quieter in case there happened to be anyone else in the office working late.

“Do you want me to stop?” you asked.

“Please no,” he begged with his lips grazing your cheek.

You increased the pressure, and Five tried to pump himself up into your hand in response.

“Good, because I don’t want to stop," you said, then you leaned in, purring more assurances as you kissed along his throat and pulled at the top of his waistband with your other hand, loosening the inner clasp so you could zip his fly down and let your hand slide in.

As you very carefully pulled him free, positioning his erection up between you, Five cried out at the feel of you manhandling him. He had touched himself like that so many times, but with you doing it, it felt millions of times more extreme. His hand that had been toying with your breasts lost all function, other than to fall to his side, fisting the bottom of your skirt.

Your skin against his hard flesh had him seeing stars as you explored, running your palm down and up his entire length.

After getting more acquainted with what you were working with, you ran a finger over the tip of Five’s cock, doing that move over and over. That of course made it harder for Five to think and breathe. You spread the wetness that had gathered there, smearing it under your tightened fingers, and by the time your hand wrapped around him even firmer, and you started to really move, the muscles in Five’s legs were quivering and flexing uncontrollably.

As you started jerking him off, feeling like he was having an outer body experience, Five dropped his head back, pinching his eyes closed.

He wasn’t thinking at all anymore. If you'd asked him his name, he wouldn't have been able to tell you.

“Harder-" he begged through clenched teeth.

Your hand obediently tightened.

There was nothing but the sound of wet skin, and sex, and the feeling that he wasn’t in control of any of it for the first time-ever.

Fuck. He was going to come already.

“Plea-” he desperately breathed, gazing up at your determined eyes. You sped up without him having to find the coherent words to ask for it, and he couldn’t help himself as he bucked, moving you with him as his hips repeatedly met your hand. “I am gonna cum-" he warned, but you didn’t stop.

His breath hitched, and his eyes closed again as his forehead fell against your chest.

Falling apart like he’d never done for anyone, Five began to spill.

“Fuuuuuuuuck!” he moaned, the ‘F’s’ repeating as spurts of his seed rocked his body.

Your hand slowed in pace with his erratic thrusts, but your fingers stayed around him as he rode out the final spasms of his release.

Five dropped his head back on the couch, totally drained.

You let go and slid your hand back up, letting the waistband of his briefs snap back in place when once you had him properly tucked in.

Now that it was done, Five wanted to fold in on himself and hide, to run, to…

He didn’t even know what he wanted to do. He could feel all his normal anxieties seeping back in way too quickly even though that had been unbelievable, and you were unbelievable and fuck...

When Five risked opening his eyes, he realized you had grabbed some tissues from the box on the side table and managed to catch his mess, so at least he didn’t make a total fool of himself in that way, or defile CIA property by splatter painting their stupid decorative plant. That would have been just great, blasting jizz all over that, or over himself and you in the wake of his inability to show even the slightest bit of restraint.

Someone was thinking; and it sure as hell wasn’t him.

“I am sorry,” he said, looking up at you regretfully.

You had been beaming at him happily, and to that, your face scrunched in confusion. “Why are you sorry now?”

How does one say sorry for that…Five wondered, then came up with an answer.

‘Ah…because I just blew my wad in your hand, and because I did it so fast, and because I didn’t do anything for you...and I shouldn’t be doing any of this anyway because of more reasons than I can count, and I can count really fucking high!'

Five couldn't bring myself to say all that. It wasn’t that he knew how to do the same thing for you exactly, but still, he knew he was supposed to reciprocate, and he’d watched plenty of porn over the years, so he could have at least tried.

Holy hell, he felt stupid.

“Oh no... There you go again. Five. When you get that look, I know it’s not good. For a guy that normally seems like you have the world by the balls, you worry way too much,” you said.

The urge to do something was there, but then you started to run your fingers through his hair again and Five couldn’t help the extremely relaxed feeling it was giving him, especially after what had just happened. He wanted to give himself over to it, and just like that, he did. He simply let go, letting himself feel every soft touch of your hand.

It felt like love, or what he imagined real love felt like.

He would have been completely at peace with the world at that point, but Five still couldn’t completely shake the idea that he’d messed up and that he never should have started fucking with you to begin with.

He dreamily gazed up at you, still not sure what to say. “That was... Fuck," he idiodically huffed, then tried again. "That felt so good. I’m sorry I didn’t-"

You cut him off with your pointer finger to his lips.

“Stop, Five. Just hush it with the apologies. If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Your frown melted into a curious looking little smirk. “You looked like you couldn’t take much more, and watching you, like that... Let’s just say that was very satisfying and I am very glad you liked it. I may not have reached the same level of pleasure as you, but I enjoyed myself plenty." You tipped your head to the side, as if considering something.

“You’re not pissed about any of this?” he asked.

“No, absolutely not.” You gave him a sexy grin. “If you’re really worried about it, why don’t we make a deal? Next time we play around, you can call all the shots, and I’ll keep my hands to myself. I’m sure you’ll think of a way to repay me with that vivid imagination of yours.”

Biting your lip, you waited for him to respond.

Five was almost certain that you'd just given him an open invitation to touch you like he had been doing when he woke up, and thinking about doing that had his now semi hard dick twinging with renewed excitement.

If he didn’t stop imagining that, then he would be fighting another massive boner, and the whole thing would start all over again. Hating himself for not being stronger than this, the voice in his head sang, Earth to Five… Do you even have a brain anymore or do you only think with your dick?

“Ok,” he agreed, breaking the silence with nothing more than a one-word answer.

He really, really did want to redeem himself, but he also needed to settle down because he could hear the wheels of Frank the janitor’s cleaning cart coming down the hall outside his door.

Knock, knock, knock…

“Shit,” Five cursed, shifting you off of him as he quickly started righting himself, zipping his fly, then quickly trying to button at least most of his shirt.

Frank tapped again as he was scrambling to pick up all the cummed on wads of tissue laying around on the floor. “You okay in there?” the older man called. “I came past earlier but….but I thought it might be better if I came back.”

“Just a minute,” Five called out, his eyes darting around the dimly lit office, seeing his tie laying over by his desk and your dress shoes laying at the other end of the couch. Your hair looked like you’d been rolling around in the hay with him, minus the hay. Realizing that his hair probably looked worse, Five also remembered struggling to keep quiet, but failing horribly. “Fuck,” he cursed, turning around, his vest flying open as he frantically tore his hands back through his messed-up man mane, only making his less than tidy cut look even worse.

As you calmly picked up your stack of books and the case files Five had kindly let you use for your essays, frowning, he looked back at you from his reflection in the small mirror hanging by the door. The way he looked only made your hardly stifled giggles even louder.

Nice going boner boy. Very smooth and so fucking tactful! he silently fumed while rolling his eyes at himself.

Coming up behind him, you leaned in and kissed his cheek, quieting his troubled thoughts as if you held some kind of otherworldly magic over him.

Five shut his eyes, again letting you make all the moves for him. He cleared his throat, then he opened the door, doing his best to offer Franke a curt-looking smile and wave him inside, so he could do his thing.

“Evening, Frank.”

The white-haired janitor looked from Five to you, his mustache quirking just a little.

Hand pushing deep in his front pockets, Five moved aside, coming out into the hall, letting the older looking man and you move past. “Make sure you read over the notes I gave you on the importance of situational awareness before tomorrow, or there’s no way you’re going to pass,” Five called after you, trying to sound as pompously dick-ish as he normally would.

Turning back, you flipped him the bird.

Five smiled.

Watching you disappear down the hall, he promised himself this was the last time he was going to let you get him.

If he was doing this, which he evidently was, then he was going to start showing you exactly who he was. Then, maybe you’d get that he wasn’t who he appeared to be, and you’d do what he wasn’t strong enough to do, which was walk away from this.

Part Three: Closeted Softy

One second you and Five were heading down the hall, making your way to the conference room where, in an hour, he was going to be delivering a class to other trainees on interrogation tactics, then the next, your head was spinning from how quickly Five had latched on to you and swung you around, pushing you inside a maintenance closet.

It was dark, but not completely because the light seeping in from under the door filled enough of the cramped space for you to see that a jug of industrial cleaner was sitting on a shelf, inches from your face.

Something behind Five jingled, like a set of keys or something else metal.The points of his dress shoes nudged against the tips of your toes as he moved in closer, pressing you against the wall, so you couldn’t get away. You started to open your mouth, but before you knew it, he crashed his lips into yours, silencing you.

As he pinned you in his embrace with his strong fingers digging into your hips, his kiss quickly grew deeper and more desperate, making your heart beat faster and faster. Then, suddenly, he broke away, peering at you with his striking green eyes full of the devil.

“My turn,” he said, his smile exposing more of his charmingly boyish dimple in the dim light.

His warm fingers started sliding up the length of your arms, an unexpected coldness tickling your skin as he went, bringing your hands together. The weight of his body pushing against you, Five recaptured your lips with his again, then he pinched his fingers around the metal rings he’d just sneakily slipped around your wrists, tightening the handcuffs that you had no idea he’d had with him.

“Five, wha-"

As soon as he had you strung up, the chain of the cuffs hung up on one of the hooks above your head that would normally be used to hang a mop or broom, Five’s hands moved down, pushing you into the wall even tighter. "No hands, remember,” he mumbled in way of explanation before biting down on your earlobe, his teeth stinging your flesh as he suddenly pinched your nipples through the fabric of your blouse.

You gasped in shock, feeling Five's breathily laughed sigh of happiness over it, then you felt his velvety whisper. "Was that good?"

“I think you know it was,” you breathed as you squirmed in frustration, wanting to touch him, to run your fingers along the lines of his handsome face, then down his lean frame, but able to do none of that as he peered at you through the darkness with a lopsided grin.

Five's eyes smoldered, the soft green glint in them nonexistent. Lowering his head, he started softly licking one of your nipples through your shirt, his saliva wetting the fabric so there’d be no way you could hide it when the door reopened.

“You regretting doing this with me yet?” he asked when he pulled away.

All you could do was let out the most pathetic sounding whimper, so he did it again, only this time smiling against your peeked flesh before he bit down, making your body crane up against his. That’s when he reached down between you, and started palming himself.

Five jerked his chin to the side and slowly swallowed, his Adam's apple moving accordingly while your eyes drank in the sexiness of his nervous tick.

All at once, abandoning his own need, his hands were sliding up your skirt, moving between your legs. His breath hitched as soon as he felt the heat of your desire for him wetting your satin underwear.

A growl crept up from inside Five’s throat as he pushed the garment aside, slipping it down your legs where it got trapped at your ankles, further proving how helpless you were. At the feel of his hand sliding down, you squirmed over the new sensation, but instead of giving you what you wanted, Five paused, letting the wetness of your arousal paint the tips of his fingers.

“Oh fuck, I fucking love this,” he breathed as if transfixed. That breathless declaration, along with the gentle movement of his fingers, softly and carefully stroking, hit you hard. You reactively clenched your thighs together as fresh wetness spilled between your legs.

You whimpered as he cursed again, and his finger started sliding a little harder.

You bucked against his hand because it felt so good. Equally moved, Five feverishly started kissing you, but his hand remained, lodged between your legs.

Trying to chase the gloriously erotic feeling he was giving you by feeling more of him, you tried to push closer to him, but he wouldn’t let you, dodging it by moving himself back out of your reach.

“MMmmmmfff!" you cried, breathlessly breaking away from his mouth. "Yes, Five, there!” you urged and panted, then you had to hold your breath because that was way too loud and his finger was moving just right against your clit and…”Ahhh-ah-Ffffiiiiiivvveeee!”

Standing there, his silhouette in his black suit only making him look all the more sinister, Five smiled so sweetly. “That’s it, say my fucking name.”

“Fffffuuu- Five, yeeeeeesssss,” you moaned, when his index finger moved harder and faster.

Your breathing was becoming more labored, and your heart was beating so fast it felt like it might explode. Your body was moving of its own accord, your hips helplessly wiggling against his hand. Unable to control himself, Five started to thrust himself against your leg. “Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he growled as your body rammed back against the wall from the momentum of his attack.

His index finger pushed through your folds, flirting with entering you before sliding back upwards, pressing into your clit with just the right pressure. The handcuffs dug into your skin as your back arched off the wall while he licked at your earlobe in long hot hungry swipes.

“Say it!”

“I want you to fuck me! Please, Five!”

Only furthering his claim on you, and proving none of this was in your control, Five bit down hard and sucked at the skin on your shoulder as his finger flew around your nub, gliding faster and faster in a semi-circle like motion, pushing upwards, then down with no mercy. 

You bucked and thrashed. “Yes, like that,” you frantically begged.

Five slowed his pace to a stop, denying you. 

He lifted his head, looking up at you appraisingly, then he slowly slipped his finger inside you. As it disappeared, your walls involuntarily clenched around it, and looking diabolically thrilled, Five moved his digit deeper inside you.

You moaned, so broken and quiet that it finally seemed to bring a little of that familiar light of worry to his eyes. “Does it hurt?” he quietly asked.

Lost in the feeling of him inside you, you shook your head.

Once your tightness could be felt along the whole length of his finger and his palm was pressed up against you, Five began to slowly move in and out to the same pace as his thumb swirling around your clit.

“Oh my god, Five,” you gasped, as your whole body struggled against his.

“Does this feel good?” he asked, determined to keep you talking as he angled his finger up, letting it drag, making you bucked up, proving that was a move worth repeating.

“Ff-fuck. Ff-feels so good,” your words trailed off as you pinched your eyes shut.

“Say that you are nothing but a little prick tease and all you want is my cock, or I’m leaving you in here and not coming back,” Five demanded, his voice sounding so low and cold.

You didn’t understand. You said nothing.

“Do it!” Five angrily hissed.

“I’m a prick tease and I want your cock,” you obediently cried.

Five pulled out of your warmth, then gently buried his middle finger and index fingers together inside you, doing it so slowly.

Watching you intently, Five gradually increased the pace and angle of both fingers. He moved them in and out, again and again, the soft wet rhythmic sound of him moving inside you, and your panting for more, driving his wrist harder and faster. Unable to stop himself, he pushed his mouth against yours, fighting to be inside you even more than he was, but soon his own breathing became too unsteady, and he was forced to pull away for air.

“Fi-ve....I am almost there… Plea-se don’t st-op!” Your teeth pierced the bottom of your lip as you closed your eyes.

“Look at me,” he demanded, and just like that you did. You were covered in a sheen of sweat, about to double if the cuffs hadn’t been holding you up and he looked like something dark had consumed him, something terrifying.

“Please…let me go so I want to touch you,” you said as you gasped and bucked against his hand, your wetness warmly slipping against his palm as his long fingers felt like they were touching your soul.

“Do this for me, like this, and it will be over,” Five lovingly urged, and that change in how he’d spoke to you and what he’d said confused you even more.

"Five!" you cried as his fingers abruptly changed pace again, violently slamming in and out of you.

Your legs all at once tightened around his hand and your insides began to clench around him. Your entire body tensed, then shuddered. You weren’t breathing at all for moments on end. When you did, it was strained, but Five’s fingers kept going at it hard, letting you ride out every moment of the orgasm he’d forced out of you. 

When the clinching sensation around his fingers gradually began to slow to where he could no longer feel it, Five finally stopped moving them. You went limp against him, breathing heavily as he let you drop your head to his shoulder. 

As he held you, you were letting out shaky noises of contentment, and you were sure by the way his hand trembled as he ran it up and down our back that he wasn’t feeling very steady either. You felt like you could cry it was all so much, but then, adding to your dismay, that was when Five pried himself away and you heard the sound of him starting to open his pants.

Opening your eyes, your entire body still pulsing in time to your frantic heartbeat, you were treated with faintest glint Five’s heartbreakingly infectious pale green eyes that never seemed to cease in their infinite power over you, that, and his long, hard dick in his hand as he slowly and methodically stroked it like a man that knew exactly what he was doing and didn’t care at all that he was killing you.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he said while peering at you, still strung up, locked to the wall, unable to get away unless you screamed, ending all this madness of this for both of you.

Coming forward, the ends of Five's hair tickled your heated cheeks, his erection coming all the way to the height of your navel as he whispered in your ear, “Don’t worry. We’re almost done.”

Moving back so you could see all of it, his leisured motions as he massaged his cock, Five ran his hooked index finger round the tip, carefully spreading the moisture dripping out of him down his entire length, then he began to work himself in earnest, sliding his hand effortlessly over his shaft.

Just looking at him doing that made your insides throb all over again. Tiny shivers of satisfaction danced up your spine as a low growl resonated deep in Five’s throat.

The way he was looking at you as he pleasured himself spoke of so much without him uttering a word. There was a flicker in his eyes, something pained.

His breathing was becoming more labored as he gave himself over to the feel of his hand.

His thighs were tensed, holding him upright as the expensive wool fabric of his dress pants slouched to his knees. He was so beautiful.

“I’m- I'm almost there," he gasped. 

He came at you, whipping aside your skirt with his free hand, just in time for the milky white burst of cum that started to spill out of him. It spurt out, up onto your stomach, and between your legs, dripping down your thighs as he shuddered and grasped, erratically jerking his hand at his sensitive tip with the final jolts of his release.

When Five felt the final waves of tension in him ease to an end, he let go of his cock, but not before giving the thickly engorged length one final pump, that made his eyes fall shut.

Stumbling forward, he collapsed into you, shuddering all over again.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed while shakily wiping his forehead with his forearm.

“You can say that again,” you agreed as his face nuzzled against your neck.

Looking out of it, Five glanced down between you. Even in the darkness he could see what he’d done, his release glistening all over your body and clothes.

“That was not exactly what I meant to do to you,” he apologized, as he immediately reached over to the shelf, swiping a roll of paper down so he could start cleaning his cooling seed off your stomach and even some that had flung up between your breasts, leaving chalky stains on your black blouse that there was no way his efforts could remedy.

As Five attempted to erase the visible evidence of what he’d done, to you, his expression appeared to be a mixture of fascination and shame, and before seeing that look on one face, you weren’t even sure those two emotions could happen at the same time, but with Five, you were starting to realize anything was possible.

Throwing the soiled towels to the floor, he silently reached up, releasing you from your restraints. Still not letting you go, his warm fingers rubbed your wrists, so tenderly as he lowered your arms and pressed a soft kiss to your temple, everything about his behavior so unlike his urgent kisses and crazed demands from before. 

It felt so good to be worried over by him like that. He pulled you firmly against him, his chin resting on your shoulder. The hold he had on you felt possessive but also is heartbreakingly desperate as you both took in the uncertain afterglow of something neither of you could put to words.

After a few minutes, you tried to push away enough to look him in the eye, but the moment you did, Five turned away from you and popped the door open.

“Five, what’s wrong?”

Not answering you, he stepped out, then he stopped a few feet from the door and looked down at his shoes, with his dark hair falling over his face.

“Five, wait,” you snapped at him when he started to walk away again.

Mid-step, his hands clenched at his sides. “No. Go back to your room and change, then go straight upstairs and tell them you need to be transferred to another office,” he quietly said, then walked away.

Part Four: Not Five’s Dolores

You did go straight to your room like Five had told you to do, but you didn’t go upstairs and request a transfer. You ended up being late for the session Five was leading, thanks to having to change, and fix your tear-streaked makeup, and pull your head together enough to face him, but as it turned out, as the other trainees filled out of the conference room an hour later, he wasn’t even in there with them.

He'd bailed and another agent had led the class.

Over the next week, Five was nowhere to be seen, which meant you had no mentor and had to buddy up with your roommate and hers, a middle-aged guy who was not at all as easy on the eyes as Five, but at least he hadn’t ruined you. That was about the best thing you could say about Barry Carponelli and his questionable shirt stains paired with the oppressive smell of stale cigarettes that always seemed to be wafting off him.

Five did not smell like that. Five was…

Five was an asshole.

After another training session, sparring with Agent Smelly, you slung your gym bag over your shoulder, ready to be done with all of it.

“Hey, kid,” Barry called after you. You turned. “You know, before I came down here to teach you girls how to do more than those pansy ass moves Five is always doing in here with you, I heard someone say that smug little prick was finally back. If I took that many days off, I’d be fired. I have no idea why they put up with him. You’re better off without him,” he said, then plucked a smoke out of his pack and strolled past, leaving you filled with renewed purpose.

This wasn’t over until you said it was. Fuck Five.

Racing up the stairs to the admin offices, you went straight to Five’s door, just as his assistant Derek was coming out. “Is Five available,” you asked.

“No. He just left for the day,” the small statured blonde male answered, looking at you curiously. “Do you need me to leave him a message?”

“No,” you quickly replied, glancing at Five’s office door. “I think I left one of my notebooks in there the other day. Do you mind if I go in and look for it?”

“Go ahead,” Derek said, opening Five’s office door wide, making it clear he’d be keeping an eye on you.

Politely nodding your thanks, you went in, heading for the couch, but as soon as you heard Five’s assistant getting distracted by someone else, you darted for the desk.

Pulling on the drawers, you realized most were locked. “Shit,” you quietly cursed, looking around the clean surface of Five’s workspace, but then you saw it. Sticking out from under a paperweight that was shaped like an umbrella that had been turned backwards by the wind, you saw a piece of mail. It was personal. It was a bill with Five’s address on it.

You smiled. “Found you, you bastard.”

A few hours later, just before sunset, you were in a shady neighborhood that was not at all where you’d expected Five to live based on his job and his outward appearance being that of someone that looked like they had much higher standards than the rundown building you were standing in front of.

Going inside wasn’t much better. Since the elevator was broken, you had to step over countless piles of trash in the fire escape stairwell on your way up the fifth floor.

By the time you had gotten to his door, you were second guessing yourself.

Raising your hand to knock, you finally came to your senses. Confronting Five would do nothing to change what had happened. First thing in the morning, you would put in your transfer paperwork.

Then, just as you were lowering your hand and turning to leave, a tall curly-haired guy, several years older than you, or more, opened the door. He looked as startled as you, his eyes crinkling in the corners as he looked you up and down.

“Tell them, I am not coming, and stop coming over without calling first! I told you I am fine!” Five yelled from somewhere in the apartment.

Saying nothing, the stranger looking back at you as he stood there wearing the strangest poncho made of bubble wrap, lifted a finger to his lips, silently motioning for you not to say anything, then he came out.

Once he’d shut the door, he said, “Hi. I am Klaus, Five’s brother. And you are?”

You said your name, and just as fast, his eyes lit up. “Right… I thought maybe it was you…” He grinned. “So…” He pulled his lips to the side. “I suppose you were here to tell off that angry little shit rat in there?”

“I was, but I changed my mind.”

“Since I’ve heard all about you, and I’m sure Five has told you all about me and the rest of his wonderful family, and your plans have changed, and it looks like neither of us have shit to do now, would you like to join me for a stroll to this really nice smoothie place a few blocks away? It’s got the best add-ins, like lemongrass and all sorts of other healthy crap that really boosts the old immune system and keeps the reaper away.”

Five told you nothing about Klaus and almost nothing about his personal life that didn’t relate directly back to his work at the CIA. He’d used you to get his rocks off and that was that, but you didn’t say that because something told you this peculiar Klaus guy already knew that his brother was a first class asshole..

Opening your mouth to decline, Klaus must have seen it coming, so he stuck out his bottom lip. “Pretty please… This neighborhood is scary, and I walked all the way over here to check in on that grumpy old man child and he’s being such a dick head, and I know something’s up with him other than his normal lonely mopey thing, but like always, he won’t talk about it. He’s always shutting us out and I know he likes you and something happened and-"

Taking a risk, you cut Klaus off. “You know what, I am in the mood from some anti-grim reaper juice.”

Giving you a toothy smile because he’d totally got you, the next thing you knew, you were being escorted down the street by Klaus Hargreeves, with him babbling on and on about things that seemed so far out there that they should have been part of a science fiction comic book rather than about what it was like growing up as part of something he called, The Umbrella Academy.

Hours later, after confirming Klaus was not on hallucinogenic drugs, or drunk, or just plain out of his mind, you had heard an earful and then some. After everything Five’s brother had told you, about them all being born with superpowers, their horrible alien father who adopted them, their  lives going to shit, to them all being stripped of their pasts and powers and left to fend for themselves in this new timeline, you didn’t know what to think.

It was clear that Klaus believed all of it. And he was very interested to hear your version about what had happened between you and Five, and when he did, like you’d suspected, he was not at all surprised by it.

“You’re the only one he’s ever done any of that with, and I mean like the only one, other than his plastic woman relationship thing. Five is not the bad person he thinks he is,” Klaus said, just before parting ways. “He’s just been through hell and back, over and over, and sometimes, I think he gets stuck not knowing how to move on from all that, you know…”

You didn’t know. You didn’t know what to think about any of this. What he’d said happened to Five was so bad, it was on another level of awful and unbelievable. Nobody would be okay after that, no matter how strong they were.

Piecing together the strange things Five had said to you, things like him being older than he looked, and that he’d done unredeemable things, it made sense now, but still…

Wow.

You did your best to act normal and not too weirded out. You liked Klaus. Klaus was the kind of person that was hard not to like, but it was hard not to be very weirded out.

Saying goodbye after you’d made sure Klaus was only a few blocks from his sister’s house, well out of the dangerous area of town that Five lived in, you were left alone again with your thoughts going haywire.

It was late, almost past midnight. Not even thinking about where you were heading, soon you were back, looking up at Five’s building.

Questioning your sanity, you lightly tapped on his door.

He didn’t come.

You knocked again, only louder.

A whole minute later and after several more knocks, startled and swaying as he flung his door open, Five blinked his eyes rapidly at you as if trying to clear his vision.

You looked down at the half-drained liquor bottle in his hand and the fuzzy dog slippers he had on his feet. To match his look of disheveled drunkenness, Five was wearing nothing but a dark blue bathrobe that came to just below his knees.  

“This was a very bad idea,” you said, under your breath, already turning to go.

Five’s voice cracked as he said your name. “…Please come back. I didn’t mean to-”

He wiped at his eyes.

Five took a small, very defeated looking breath. “I tried to leave you alone, but I just..”

“You just what?” you asked, coming back when he didn’t finish, stopping right in front of him with your fingers tapping at your hips.

Five held your accusing stare but just barely. “I just… I don’t deserve you and you could do a million times better than me.”

“Why because you’re a 63-year-old, ex-temporal assassin who’s stuck inside the body of an eighteen-year-old asshole who’s got his panties in a twist because he can’t teleport anymore?”

Forcing himself to stand up straighter even though it was clear that he was a drunk mess, Five swallowed, his face looking entirely serious. “Actually, we don’t call it teleporting. It’s called blinking, and you’re right, I can’t do that anymore, and if I wore panties, yes, they’d be in a twist about it.”

“Teleporting! Blinking! Five! What the hell difference does it make when I just walked into the twilight zone!”

Eyes wide, Five reached out, pulling you inside his apartment.

It was small, dimly lit, the furniture minimal. You could see almost all of it in just one quick glance. An outdated, beat-up kitchen on one side, two reading chairs next to an overflowing bookshelf made up his clean, but tiny living area. There was a bedroom door filled with darkness off to your left. Everything was old and used, but cozy looking. It was exactly the kind of unassuming hideaway you would have expected the extremely traumatized person Klaus had told you about would feel safe.

It was the embodiment of Five: the old man who’d cared about everyone else, but had given up on himself, and the innocent boy who’d been used and abused, who would never be able to stop fighting and hoping for a chance at something better.

“Do you believe it? Everything Klaus told you?” Five asked, looking at you with glossy eyes.

“I do.”

“Then why are you here?”

Pointing to the chair you were pretty sure Five had been sitting in based on the way the other looked like nobody ever sat in it, you let out a loud exhale. “Sit,” you ordered.

Five turned and stumbled back to his chair, dropping down in it clumsily, where he proceeded to almost spill his liquor, then slumped like a sad child that had just been told to go sit in the corner.

Coming over, kneeling in front of him, Five tried to put his legs together before you could position your body in a way that prevented it, but he didn’t move at all fast enough.

“Not this is how it’s going to go,” you said, gripping his knees. “I’m going to ask you something and you’re going to tell me the truth. Do you understand?”

Five nodded.

“Do you have feelings for me?” you asked.

“Yes.”

“What kind?” you countered.

“The kind that I shouldn’t have.”

You shook your head and spread his knees farther apart, making his terry cloth robe spread, exposing the snow-white skin of his inner thighs. “Elaborate,” you pushed. From what you could tell, Five wasn’t wearing any panties, just like he’d said. He wasn’t wearing anything.

The line between his eyes deepened as he answered you. “I have the kind of feelings for you that make me wish I was someone you could love.”

Slowly, you started moving your hands from his knees, heading under his robe, stopping just shy of the danger zone. “You don’t get to decide how I feel about you, Five. I can think for myself, but if you decide to push me away, that’s on you.”

Again, he nodded.

“I like you, Five and that means the you that I thought I knew but then decided to fuck things up and make me cry my eyes out.” You smiled even though that made him look even more miserable. “And I like that frisky old man in you that you’ve been trying and failing to keep hidden. Both are good men even if they act like jerk offs sometimes.”

A tear slipped down Five’s reddened cheek.

“You say you don’t deserve it, but I think, from what I’ve heard, you deserve the world, Five Hargreeeves.”

Five looked down at his lap, holding his breath.

Very carefully, your hand moved over him, gathering the silky length of flesh descended between his legs, lovingly fondling him.

“You need to realize that it doesn’t matter what you’ve done, or what you’ve lost. You’re still worthy of love, and even if you weren’t and all that crazy shit your brother told me turned up to be some kind of dream I’d had in a moment of insanity while wallowing over you as I drank a delicious smoothie, I’d still want you. Even if you looked like the white-haired man grumping around up there in your head, I’d want you because under it all, you are sweet and kind and too smart for your own good and all kinds of scary sexy and I like all of that.”

As you relished in the feel of him getting hard, Five looked utterly defenseless even though you knew that was far from the truth. His tear-filled gaze was lazy and appreciative as he gazed at you, lying your heart out to him as you stroked his ego and his cock.

“Do you still want me?” you asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

You brushed aside the rest of Five’s bunched-up, funny old man robe, then came forward, resting your forearms on his warm thighs. Your hand tightened around his cock and kept moving as you looked up at him, his eyes looking droopy as his head rolled to one side.

“You don’t have to do-” Five started, but before he could finish what he was going to say, you were nuzzling him, your face at the crook of his leg and torso, tenderly kissing him there before you slowed your hand to a stop and licked the length of his dick, from the base to the tip, like it was the best thing you’d ever had in her face.

Five shivered.

Without hesitation, you started to suck, slowly running your tongue around and around the drip of translucent fluid that had already started leaking out of him.

“Mmmmm,” you hummed as you tasted him, the smooth pattern of your mouth moving over him, making Five grasp at his armrests as he tried and failed to bite back a broken moan.

Your contented humming continued as you let your tongue spread the wetness so you could push your mouth down, taking in more of him. Feeling the vibrations from your throat, Five’s head dropped back against his chair. He reached down with his left hand, shakily brushing your hair to the side so he could watch you sucking him off.

When your mouth met your fingers, you stopped working downward and began to move your head back up, never letting up with your tight lips or your tongue as it pressed along his length.

“Oh shit, that feels good!” Five whispered, his fingers moving through your hair as he very tentatively placed his hand on the back of your head. More soft curses came out of him on quickening breaths as you buried your nose in the small tuft of dark hair between his legs, taking him until your nose hit his pubic bone.

Gripping you tighter, holding you there and finding no resistance, Five deliriously questioned, “Are you sure this is okay?”

The second he let up, your head bobbed, your mouth making the most perfectly erotic squelching sounds as tears started to run down your red cheeks. Still, you didn’t stop.

The sight of him breaking you, but not, and you letting him do it, and the feeling of you loving him like this even at his lowest, sent what was left of Five’s restraint out the door.

Straining not to push you too much, Five’s hips started rocking upwards as you latched on to his upper leg with your other hand, supporting yourself as he pushed his cock deep, sending himself down your throat each time he rolled and fucked his body up into your mouth.

He was the one mostly dictating the speed and depth of each thrust, and the act was brutally degrading, but you didn't seem to care. Even the sound of you forcing your breaths through your nose was a turn on, and Five had to force myself not to say the string of dirty praises he had running through his head.

“I’m so... cl-close,” he stammered instead, in-between hardly contained grunts of the word fuck while forcing your head down and up again.

With his heels digging into the floor for leverage to lift him with each jerk of his hips, something in Five felt like it was shattering.

He took you all the way to the hilt again, holding you there until you started gagging and digging your nails into his leg. Then he did it again, and again.

Overwhelmed by what he was doing and how sick it was of him that he wanted to feel and see you struggle like that, in between thrusts, he let out sob like cries of thank you, and please, and fuck, and with those desperate words helplessly coming out of him, that deep seated feeling in his stomach that followed was impossible to ignore.

“I’m gonna come,” Five wept as he fisted your hair and frantically pumped himself in and out of your mouth as he began to ejaculate down your throat.

He kept incoherently moaning as his hips thrust in angry bursts of momentum.

When his body was done and his shudders had ceased, dizzy enough that the room felt like it was spinning, Five finally let go of you and you fell back on your heels, whipping at the line drool that had dripped from your mouth. You looked up at him, your nose a little runny and your eyes still wet, but somehow you still managed to smile for him and that broke Five even more.

Reaching out, Five ran his thumb across your cheek, collecting a remaining tear before his hand flopped to his side again. “I am so sorry for everything,” he whispered.

“I know,” you whispered back as you covered him back up, pulling his robe around him like he was helpless, which he was. When you walked to his bedroom and he didn’t follow because he was physically incapable at that moment, Five didn’t get to see your smile, but as you looked around in the dark at his boyishly blue quilt and saw the small, worn stuffed animal puppy dog lying on his bed, you knew once again that you weren’t wrong about him.

Snatching up a blanket that was neatly folded and placed by his pillow, you came back out, laying it over him.

Leaning in, you brushed Five’s hair from his forehead before you kissed his cooling skin, then you tiptoed away again. Turning back as you placed your hand on the doorknob, you saw him sleepily watching you, clearly wanting to say something, but like so often, not being able to find the right words.

“Goodnight, Five,” you said, then you left.

Part Five: Perfectly Wrong

The next day, the second you entered his office, Five rushed to the door, locking it, then he grabbed you by the waist, tugging you closer. “Where the hell have you been, I have been losing my mind up here,” he declared while lowering his head to yours, bringing your faces within a whisper's length. 

“I have been working, that’s why I’m here, remember?” You laughed then said, “I wasn’t scheduled to meet with you until afternoon.” You looked at the clock then smiled. “Which is right now.”

Five didn’t look satisfied with that, so you kissed him, then pulled away, leaving him cutely puckering at air with his dark lashes fanning his cheeks so handsomely.

“For a man that once could control time, you seem very confused about how it works,” you teased.

“No shit. If that isn’t the understatement of the year,” he smarted back while giving you an adorable smirk. “I am impatient, impossible to deal with, and so horny for you that they should lock me up to protect you. All that made me think you’d changed your mind about me, that or I’d dreamed you coming to my apartment last night to tell me off, but then, instead, I ended up getting the first blow job of my long pathetic life and finished that mind blowing experience by getting tucked into my recliner like the big baby invalid I am.”

“I didn’t change my mind about you, and you didn’t dream that. I still like you, and our totally taboo, mentor fucking with his student, scandalizing age gapped, dirty talking, panty wetting, dry humping, cry fest of a relationship we have. Speaking of my training and it being your job to see to it that I succeed, I can’t quite understand how things work around here as they relate to my future and what they expect out of me as a fully sworn in agent.”

“Oh...? You read the 3000 page mission statement, but you still need my help figuring that out?” Five offered back, playing along.

You leaned in and whispered hotly in his ear. “I do. Will you help me?” 

“I’d do anything for you,” Five breathed back, nudging your nose with his to make you smile as he peered at you through the strands of his hair that had just fallen in his face.

“Maybe you could lay it all out for me, right here on the top of your desk? Show me how you navigate all these complicated protocols and endless hours of typing up boring intelligence reports. With all the talking and writing up briefings, your fingers and mouth must get so tired. I know mine do. What then? What other tools do you have on you to get you through those super hard, long days?”

Five tipped you back on his desk, his hands moving down your back to support you until you were resting on your elbows. “As a fully sworn in agent, I steer myself around any obstacles in my way, ruthlessly and rudely ignoring anything and anyone that dares to get in my way.” He pushed the bulge forming in his pants between your legs. “When it comes to protocols, I throw them out the window and do what I want because I have never been good at following anyone’s rules but my own. And when I get tired of talking and my fingers get fatigued from all the typing, I say fuck it and really start breaking the rules and let my dick do the talking for me, proving why it was a very bad idea to make me your mentor and that I’m a huge pervert. Would you like me to elaborate on that?”

“Yes,” you said, burying your fingers in Five’s hair, using it as an anchor to draw his mouth to yours as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders while trapping him with your legs around his waist.

Sliding his hands under your bottom, Five pulled you closer to his need, brushing his face at your neck as he sucked on and kissed, his warm breaths tickling your skin.

“Tell me what you want. I mean it, I’d do anything for you,” Five insisted, all teasing aside, speaking into your skin as you gripped his firm backside and fooled around with his hair in that way he loved.

“Because you're a bad boy and I am a very bad girl, I want you to break all the rules with me right now,” you whispered. 

Five let go of your hips where his hands had been rhythmically tugging you against him.

“Jeez-us, fuck you are trouble,” he breathlessly hissed as you reached down and started undoing his pants.

Five couldn’t contain his groan as you pulled his dick out and started to rub him. You flashed him your teeth as you smiled, enjoying yourself immensely as he careened into your grasp.

Giving you the hardest look he could muster considering what you were doing to him, Five pulled your hands away, guiding them both back behind you so he could press them down on his desk, under the pressure of his palms.

“Leave them here,” he sternly ordered, though there was no holding back his amused smile.

You nodded while sucking in your bottom lip as you coyly looked up at him from underneath your lashes.

Once Five was sure you were going to stay put, he let go of your hands, then he pressed himself closer to you again while bracing you from behind with one hand, bringing the other between your legs, yanking your panties aside.

As his fingers slid inside you, you dropped your head back, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“You’re really all in?” he asked, knowing you were, only wanting to hear you say it again.

“Yes, Five. I want all of you,” you begged, as you looked down at his cock, then up at him distraughtly.

Gripping himself, Five slipped his fingers out of you, replacing them with the softness of skin on skin and the warm, girthy head of his cock, gliding it back and forth as he wet himself at your entrance, then prodded and rubbed against your clit, back and forth.

“Fuck me, you're amazing,” Five cursed, unable to contain it when he finally felt what it was like to do this with his bare cock slicked against a body that was warm and forgiving.

He rocked himself against you, marveling over the simple pleasure of it, and he could have probably been held rapt forever by just that, but you’d said you wanted it all, and fuck..so did he.

“Are we okay like this?” he asked, meaning without protection.

“Yes, please…fuck yes!" you moaned, and he swore the look on your face could have killed a lesser man.

Getting the go ahead, Five ran his cock through your folds again, making sure he was wet enough to enter you. Then, carefully, drawing it out with a slow steady motion, he started pushing himself into you. Your warm walls clenched around his rounded tip, fighting it, but you didn't tell him to stop, so he moved inside deeper, whimpering because it felt so good to finally feel what this was like.

With Five’s thick cock opening you wider than it seemed possible, you threw your head back, panting his name and assurances to keep going, forcing your body to accept him. Feeling your tightness quivering around his length, unable to contain himself any longer, Five slowly started to move in and out, watching your face carefully for any signs of pain.

Once it was clear that he wasn’t hurting you, he smiled darkly, then very lowly warned, "Be quiet, or I’ll give you a reason to get really loud and then we both will have to start looking for new jobs.” 

Immediately going faster, his hips thwacking against you harder and harder, Five leaned forward over you again, kissing the exposed area of your neck and upper shoulder. 

When you let out a loud gasp, his hand flew over your mouth, then he increased the pace and angle of hips, rolling them in and out, fucking to a softer rhythm that felt so fucking good and made him look even more like he was the God of fuck he was.

“You are so fucking tight. This feels so…fuck,” he breathed before whipping his head back, trying to get his hair out of his eyes. As if he wasn’t doing you just fine already, hoisting your legs up a little more, Five pulled himself out a little, attentively working his tip in a way that pushed upwards, increasing the pressure building inside you in a way that made your head rolled back on your shoulders and your legs around his waist go limp.

“Oh, fuck, Five, yes, like that,” you cried out from under his hand.

“I fucking love you so much,” he moaned back, his eyes on yours as he bore down on you.

His dick pumping back and forth inside you even faster, Five’s brain took a second or two to catch up to what he’d just said. Breaking out in a sweat, his hand coming off your mouth, letting you breathe, he suddenly looked horrified, but that was only until you began to wildly thrust yourself back against him, using your ankles by digging them into his back.

Your fingernails tore into his back through his vest and dress shirt as he pushed his tongue against yours.

Slipping farther and farther into subspace every time his cock barred inside you, the more intense the lightning storm inside him got. His thoughts had grown hazy, and all Five knew was he was in heaven. 

He was slamming into you, harder and harder, and all you could do was hold on, keeping yourself locked to him as you clung to the sides of his desk. You felt that sweet aching pressure down in your lower abdomen. Your back arched. You felt your heart pounding between your legs as Five began to come violently cum, his cock throbbing inside of you as he fell into stuttering movements, having been totally taken off guard by the intensity with how hard the height of his pleasure hit him.

The scent of his cum in the air, of sweat gathering on your bodies and the sound of your heavy breathing, the sounds of your lover’s kisses returning to your lips, urgent, insistent, desperate….

It was perfect.

Five didn’t stop working his hips, pulling his cock in and out of you. Bringing his hand between your legs, all it took was the slightest touch of his fingers getting into the game and a few more pumps of his hips, making his cum drizzle hotly out of you onto his desk and you were falling apart, your body trembling through your equally intense release.

Slowing to a stop, Five smiled into your neck, slowly kissing you as he ran his hand down your side. He didn’t want to pull away, but he also didn’t want to force you to stay like that, spread out with him heedlessly leaning between your legs. On top of that, he could hear Derek talking just outside his door.

After a moment more of proudly grinning over what had just happened, he pulled away.

“Are you sure about me?” he asked, uncertain, yet playing it like a joke, not so brazen and sure of himself when you weren’t withering against him.

“I am sure, and that was, holy fucking wow, Five,” you praised, as you reached out, tenderly brushing back a piece of his hair that had stuck to his forehead.

Five’s ego was quickly restored. You always knew exactly what he needed, when he needed it. It was as if you understood him better than he understood himself and you were ok with who he was even when he wasn’t.

“You are making this way too easy for me,” he pointed out. 

“I ah… I should probably go,” you said as you grinned at him, momentarily distracted as he looked down at your legs dangling around his. He was so fucking hot.

“Shoot,” he laughed, rolling his eyes to his ceiling, then back to yours. “I meant to show you that my mouth is good for more than delivering sarcastically slights and even better clever commentary. Maybe there’s still time,” he teased, hands moving under your legs as he lowered himself, about to throw your legs over his shoulders and bury his face between the mess he’d made between your legs.

Derek knocked on the door.

“Fuck,” he laughed, jumping up, swinging your legs together, whipping you upright like you weighed nothing. His jaw pumped in agitation but that didn’t change his massive smile. “As much as I hate it, we really need to save that lesson for another time. Not that I care if I get fired, it’s just…You know,” he rambled, racing to zip up his pants and tuck his shirt back in.

“Another time then,” you chirped as you scooted off his desk, your heels landing softly on the floor.

As Five went to the door, unlocking it, before Derek tried to open it and come in, you came up behind him, hugging him from behind, your cheek falling against his as he tried to turn back. “I love you too, Five,” you whispered, then let him go just as the door started to open.

Stepping past Derek, you looked over your shoulder at Five, and said, “Thanks again for helping me, ahh…with figuring all that out.”

“Anytime. That’s what I am here for,” Five replied, his hand running over his mouth to hide his wicked grin.

As Derek looked at him in question, clearly aware that something was up, totally smitten, Five took the file he was handing him, but his eyes remained glued to you.

“It looks like those few days off did you some good. Are you feeling better?” Derek questioned, as he looked over at the papers pushed off of Five’s desk that were now laying on the floor. He smiled. 

“Yes, much better,” Five breathed, coming to his senses, but only after you’d turned the corner, blowing him a secret kiss.

For the first time in his life, Five knew what it was like to feel the love he’d always longed for, and it was all because of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~As always, thanks for reading. Let me know if you liked this. ❤️~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[vikkirosko]

Headcanons of how would (ZZZ) Billy, Anton, Ben Bigger, Wise, and Von Lycaon react if after he confessed, their oblivious gender neutral crush told him that they never thought his gestures had romantic intent, because they confessed to their crushes before, thinking their gestures meant it's mutual to find out they're seen as a friend?

Headcanons Misunderstanding

⚒️ Anton Ivanov x gn!Reader 🦺

Anton has been trying to show you for a long time that he likes you. He thought about confessing to you directly, but his colleagues dissuaded him when he voiced his thoughts, convincing him that his direct confession might scare you. Therefore, he tried to express his feelings through various romantic gestures. But you didn't seem to see it at all. You continued to treat him like a friend, smiling gently at him. It upset him, but he didn't give in to despair. He wasn't going to give up, but decided to do what he wanted to do initially

He told you directly about his feelings, but you looked like you didn't even know how Anton felt about you. He expected you to refuse him, but you reciprocated his confession, even though you told him that you did not expect this. When he asked you how, because he was trying to show his feelings for you, you looked away in embarrassment and told him that you did not think that his actions had romantic overtones

As it turned out, all this time you were sure that everything he did you perceived as friendly signs of attention. You didn't even realize that he had feelings for you. At that moment, Anton felt stupid. He tried so hard to take his time, but in the end, it turned out that he just had to tell everything straight away and not worry about it. He laughed at the realization of how much time he had wasted, but now it was all over

Anton understood that the best way to continue to show you his feelings is to speak directly. You were distracted and could simply not notice something, so he decided not to try to mask his feelings any more. He didn't want you to think again that he didn't have romantic feelings for you, so he was going to be as straightforward as possible when it came to you

🐻 Ben Bigger x gn!Reader 📑

From the first moment Ben realized his feelings for you, he tried to show them to you as carefully as possible. He didn't want to embarrass you or put you in an awkward position, but you didn't seem to understand exactly what he meant. You treated him like a friend, and Ben didn't know if you were trying to politely refuse him that way, or if you just didn't understand what he was trying to tell you

After Koleda saw that he had romantic feelings for you, she got angry and directly told him to stop beating around the bush and tell you everything directly. She told him that you were distracted and might simply not take his words in the sense in which he was trying to convey them to you, and therefore he should tell you everything directly. Ben doubted her words, but he decided anyway, realizing that the worst thing that would happen would be for you to refuse him. But when he confessed to you, he saw that you clearly did not expect to hear his confession

He told you that he had tried to tell him about it before, but you told him that you had no idea about it. You really didn't know that he was trying to show you his feelings and that he had romantic feelings for you at all. You were sure that he treated you like a friend and that's why you tried not to attach much importance to what he was doing, because if you believed that you had a chance, then it would hurt you, but you didn't want it

You and Ben had a long conversation. You were going to talk about the feelings you had for each other and decide what to do next. It was something that you needed to discuss and sort out, since you both understood how you felt about each other. It was important to both of you, and even if this conversation had taken you a few hours more, you weren't going to put it off for later

🔫 Billy Kid x gn!Reader 🕹

Billy was always nervous around you. He was very worried around you and the reason for this was the feelings he had for you. He was in love with you and tried to show his feelings for you as best he could. It was obvious to his friends when he first realized that he was in love with you, but apparently you still didn't realize that Billy was in love with you

You perceived each of his invitations to a date as a simple friendly walk, each of his gifts as just a friendly sign of attention, and you perceived each of his attempts to compliment you as the words of a friend and not someone who is in love with you. It upset him, but he didn't want to give up. He wanted to confess to you in order to meet your refusal face to face, because he was not a coward who would run away from such a thing

When he told you about his feelings, he saw that you were surprised. It's like you've heard for the first time that he's in love with you, which raised a lot of questions for him. You were embarrassed and admitted that you really didn't even know about his feelings for you and perceived his words and actions in a friendly way. If he hadn't confessed his feelings to you, then you would have continued to think that he was just a very attentive friend who tried to please you and spend time with you

Billy was nervous when he told you about his feelings, but now he was even more nervous, because you had to either turn him away or reciprocate. He was secretly hoping for the second option, but he knew that he couldn't influence your answer in any way. He understood that if you refused him, he would be upset, he would be hurt, but until you told him your answer, all he could do was wait for what you would say

📼 Wise x gn!Reader 📺

It wasn't that hard for Wise to figure out exactly how he felt about you. It was much more difficult for him to tell you directly about it, and there were many reasons. He couldn't just come up and tell you about his feelings, because he could accidentally put you in an awkward position, which he didn't want, or you could just misunderstand his confession. Wise knew that you were distracted and would not be surprised if this happened, so he tried to show you his feelings not with words but with actions, hoping that this option would be more suitable

He tried to hint at his feelings to you many times, but you didn't notice it at all. You acted as if everything he did had an exclusively friendly meaning. Wise sighed heavily every time and there were fewer and fewer ideas of what he could do. At some point, he got too tired of you telling him what a wonderful friend he was and he told you straight out that he was in love with you and all this time he was trying to show you that. It's the first time Wise has seen you so surprised

You were very confused by his words and honestly admitted that you really had no idea that all his actions had romantic overtones. Your words only confirmed his thoughts that because of your absent-mindedness, you didn't even know about it. But Wise wasn't mad at you. The fact that you finally found out about his feelings made him smile gently, even though that's not how he imagined his confession to you

You had to think about all that you had learned about his feelings and decide what to do. Wise wasn't going to force you to respond sharply to his confession, realizing that you needed time to think about everything and make a decision. Therefore, he was willing to wait for the moment when you would be ready to respond to his confession. He was ready to accept any answer you gave

🐺 Von Lycaon x gn!Reader 🕰

Lycaon has always been polite and gallant, including when communicating with you. You got along well and the fact that he fell in love with you seemed to him like something that could happen sooner or later. He tried to show his feelings for you by various actions, gave you elegant gifts, helped and supported you, but quickly realized that there was a problem that would not be so easy for him to solve. You didn't notice at all that his actions had romantic overtones

Every time he tried to show you his feelings, you smiled gently and clearly perceived him as a friend. The reason for this was your absent-mindedness, and he understood that. He couldn't do anything about it and just kept trying to get his feelings across to you until he eventually told you straight out. He saw how much you were surprised by his words and realized that only now did you finally realize exactly what he feels for you

You were very confused by his confession and the fact that you didn't understand it. You didn't hide the fact that you were sure that he saw you as someone other than a friend and you didn't perceive his actions and words as something special, but now, with this knowledge, you were very confused and felt stupid, not understanding what now seemed obvious

Lycaon didn't put pressure on you and was ready to accept that you could consider him just a friend. He did not want to ruin your friendship with his feelings and promised you that regardless of your answer, he would not treat you worse, and moreover, he was not going to treat you worse because of your absent-mindedness. You were dear to him and he hoped that nothing would spoil your relationship

[myown-worstenemy-2003]

Someone Else Callin' You Baby?

A/N: Hey y'all! I'm back on my bullshit with a mini-series! This is "chapter one" of the series! Can't wait to see the reactions to this! I hope you enjoy, and let me know any feedback that you have! If you feel up to it send me a request and I will do my best to give it justice!

Summary: You and your daughter are new to Hawkins, what's going to happen when you find your boyfriend, Billy Hargraves with someone else in his car?

Word Count: about 1300

"A-B-C! It's easy as one, two, fwee!" you hear from the backseat. You look into the rearview mirror, your five-year-old daughter was in her car seat looking out the window and singing along to The Jackson Five. You were on the way to see your boyfriend and for him to finally meet your daughter. It had taken you a few months for you to even think about letting him meet your daughter. But you ended up deciding that you liked him enough to let him meet her, that was today's plan.

You flicked on the turn signal as you came to the stop sign. You look at the house on the corner, home to your boyfriend, Billy. But you saw his car backing out of his driveway. You frown in confusion, did he forget that you were coming over today?

It was when he was leaving his road was when you caught a glimpse of someone in the passenger side, a woman to be specific. She was messing with the radio like she'd done it a million times before.

It wasn't until someone honked behind you that you realized that you still sitting at the stop sign. You turned off your turn signal and went straight instead.

"Are we there yet, Mommy?" Rhiannon asked, curious. You at her in the rearview mirror and said, trying to keep the tears from falling, "I think we're going to go to the park instead, is that okay?"

She nodded and them asked, "What about your friend? Is your friend coming to the park too?"

"No honey, somethin' came up, and they can't make it this time."

"Otay, Mommy."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Mat 'n cheese, Mommy!" Rhiannon said excitedly whenever she got her kid's menu and started coloring. You smiled back to her, "Yes baby, you can have mac 'n cheese."

After you both got your food, Rhiannon was eating her mac n' cheese with her fork, sloppily but it was getting the job done.

You started thinking.

Two weeks ago that you and him. Riding down back roads, and singing along to the radio. Well, more like you were singing to the radio.

As you were thinking, you looked around and noticed that people were looking at you and whispering.

You're just being paranoid. You thought to yourself.

You heard 'Billy' whispered with your name along with someone else's name that you couldn't quite hear. You decided that it was time to go.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Billy called you to hang out, that was when you got some answers.

"I don't know Billy, I've been kinda busy and want to stay in with my daughter tonight," you told him.

"But we haven't see each other in weeks. I just miss my girl."

"Am I though?"

Billy paused, "What?"

"Am I your girl?"

"What makes you think that?"

"I saw you with another girl when I was going to bring my daughter over for her to meet you. A few days later, I heard people talkin' about us at the diner."

"Baby, I'm sorry, I forgot that we had that planned! My sister needed a ride to-"

You cut him off, "Just tell me, do you still want me to be in your life or not. That's all I want to know."

He was quiet for a second. The he spoke up, "Can I just have a little time to think and make sure that I'm ready to give you everything I have?"

You nodded your head, "Yes. When your ready, I'll be here. Just...keep in touch too. I still care about you. I'll see you later, okay?"

He gave you a long hug and then you left. Not exactly happy with the result but it was a start to something hopefully.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Let's see, what kinda cereal should we get?"

"Hmmmm, Toast Cwunch!" Rhiannon said excitedly. You both were in the store getting groceries for the week.

"Perfect choice baby girl!" you said excitedly with her, and put the box in the cart. You pushed the cart to move down the aisle and Rhiannon shouted, "Onwawd!"

While looking down the pasta aisle you spotted a familiar head of hair, a strawberry blond mullet, with a familiar denim jacket on his shoulders. You smiled and waited for him to turn around so you could wave at him, but as he did, you saw he was holding hands with another woman, that was not his sister.

You quickly backed out of the aisle. It was time to have the talk about you guys.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You just put Rhiannon to bed and was watching TV while eating popcorn, when there was a knock on your door. You got up from your spot on the couch and answered the door.

There stood Billy leaning against the doorway, looking up at you with his charming smile that worked on you when you first started dating.

"Hey (Y/N), I missed you."

"Hi Billy, come in," you let him in and close the door behind you. You stand in the middle of the living room with your arms crossed, "How've you been?"

"Good, I've been meaning to call you and take you out," he said with his 'charming' smile again, now that smile just made you mad.

"Just been a bit...busy?" you asked with a little venom dripping in your voice.

"Yeah...a little busy," he looked at you for a second after picking up on your voice, "How about you?"

"Who was the girl that you were with in the grocery store the other day?" you asked out of nowhere. You could see that he was taken aback.

He didn't know that you saw him.

"I was with my cousin."

"Oh, really? You hold hands with your cousins?"

He threw his head back, and you said, "Just tell me what you really want. You wanted time and space, so I backed off and let you have that. I didn't think that it meant movin' along. So if you are callin' someone else baby just tell me. Bein' in the dark is drivin' me crazy and I just need to know."

He looked at you like he didn't know what to say.

"Look, it'll be what it will be, it's either her or me. Give me the word and you can be free and I'll leave you alone. If you're over me, just lay it on me. Just rip the Band-Aid off. So...are you seein' someone else?"

He looked away and quietly said, "Yes. I am."

"Okay. That's all I needed to know. Thank you. I'll see you around Billy," you said in monotone voice and opened the door for him and he walked out. He looked back once and then walked to his car and left.

You closed the door as he left, you sighed as you sat down on the couch. That's when you let the tears flow.

[p3sephone]

What is rightfully mine (Dark! Winter Soldier x reader).

Summary: you were running for your life since months after the Winter Soldier got free and started killing everybody inside of Hydra. When he found you, things didn't go as you expected.

Warnings: violence towards reader, forced kissing, unwanted touching, obsession, hints of killing people, implied non-con, crying and home intrusion. This is a dark story with dark themes, NO MINORS, only +18. I don't own this character.

Notes: Comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome and appreciated. Also, requests are open so feel free to ask! 🏵️

You sighed heavily, yet another tiring day at work was finally over. All you wanted to do was go home, throw yourself on the bed and lounge around doing literally nothing. Your head had been racing and frantic for months now, you needed a break at all costs. You knew that maybe that break wasn't the right choice at all, but you had to take it for the sake of your mental health. Months had passed since that day, you still remembered it as if it were yesterday, and you hadn't stopped since then.

You had continued to run away, change routines and schedules, always dress casually and always with your gaze on the ground. You couldn't let it find you again. It was a bad chapter in your life, when you worked with Hydra. You weren't a good person, you were aware of not being one and when you finally decided to become one, it was already too late.

So you didn't really believe that the Winter Soldier would give you any discounts once he found you, considering that you seemed to be at the bottom of his list of people to kill. All the others had been found dead in their homes, one after the other. They could have hired dozens of men for security and they had still come to a bad end because of the Winter Soldier. You knew that it was only a matter of time now, but you had to at least try. So you continued to hide, trying to live like a normal person. And in the end, you became a normal person.

The time outside of Hydra gave you time to reevaluate things, to change yourself and during this time you really thought that maybe things could get better. Even for that man who terrorized you.

You inhaled through your nose as you opened the door of your house and then closed it behind you. You only had time to turn around and your head was violently slammed into that same door, now closed.

"Вы пропустили меня? (Did you miss me?)" his voice remained the same as you remembered, no matter how little he said, it was composed and low. You held your head, slowly dragging it along the ground, it was throbbing with pain and your vision was blurry. The darkness was blending in with his black boots and his all-black attire. He had prepared himself just for you.

"Do you have nothing to say for yourself?" he bent down to your level as he said those words, and when you didn't dare give him an answer he yanked a handful of your hair with his vibranium arm, making sure you could look him straight in the eyes. That arm had always terrified you and you feared one day you would end up strangled by it, you truly feared that that day had now come.

"I'm sorry, soldier-" you didn't have any more time to speak, the winter soldier showed the same mercy that you showed him when you looked away while they tortured him. You knew well that this was your karma, it was what you deserved. Maybe now you were a good person, before no, you hadn't been especially with him. But you were so lucky and you didn't know it yet!

The winter soldier made you stand up by tugging your hair once more, then he pressed the light switch. His icy eyes scrutinized you with that frowning face, so full of hatred and anger. On the other hand, your eyes had tears in them and they threatened to come out not only because of the pain in your head, but also because of the guilt. And he noticed it.

"Oh… did you regret it? Are you sorry?" he emphasized the sentence you had said previously, and only then the tears fell. You squeezed his vibranium arm in the hope that he would loosen his grip just a little. You nodded with a sob, looking into his eyes as he wanted.

“Okay, show me.” You were shocked at the request and did nothing but frown at him, while he had a small smile on his lips. He gave you a hint, bringing his face close to yours and giving you a chaste kiss on the lips, then inviting you with his gaze to return the kiss. You swallowed nervously. Given your situation and the fact that you were now completely useless to Hydra, you had no choice.

So, you did as he wished. You leaned in and kissed his lips, not expecting him to return the kiss quickly and much more passionately than your clumsy one. It was as if he wanted to devour you, take everything from you and leave you with nothing. He finally released his grip on your hair, pushing you against the front door instead and deepening the kiss, before pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder. You were now shaking with terror: you weren't ready to die and you certainly weren't ready for this psychological torture.

"It's what I've wanted for years, and they've always denied me this reward. Mission, after mission, after mission… and I didn't see a trace of you. I hated being alone and you hated doing that job, you should thank me for killing everyone." he whispered close to your ear and you couldn't help but increase your crying and moans of fear. It was a fate worse than death, yours.

"But I don't want this…" you barely whispered, and you would have been lucky if he hadn't heard you. But he had. His attention returned to you and his vibranium hand gripped your jaw firmly.

"You're mine. You always have been, since months ago when you moved to this shithole of a city. You didn't stop being mine when you worked to make my life a living hell and despite everything you still have to finish thanking me for sparing you, and you didn't stop being mine even when you moved five months ago. I've always followed you, I've never lost my attention on you." his eyes narrowed and if possible, he seemed even bigger than he was before, while on the other hand your figure was getting smaller and smaller.

Your crying didn't satisfy the winter soldier's mood at all and didn't improve the situation, so he decided to do his own thing and kiss you again. This time your body tried to react and fight against him, but the fight ended when he decided to literally trap you with his body and trap both of your hands in his, doing what he thought was right with you. After all, you had always been his, it was time to show it to you.

[lemotmo]

Will never understand the kinds of messages some of you all have had to read over these past few months. But yeah this is basically it. It's not our fault they chose to pretend otherwise.

Q. Genuine question because you were fine with Tommy following 7x4 so what the hell happened? How can you hate him so much now?

A. There is nothing to Tommy as a character in his own right, but he serves genuine narrative purpose. If you go back and look at my post directly following 7x4 I absolutely did say that he was fun and they could keep him around for a bit. I understand giving Buck relationships. I had no problems with him up to 7x4 because his part/purpose in those first episodes was well fleshed out, but even in that episode Eddie felt like the actual point to all of their scenes, and was in fact in most of their scenes. Then immediately following episode 4 it became abundantly clear what Tommy was, a paint by numbers plot device. I made a post about it following episode 5. Then I answered an ask about it and received messages about wanting me dead. People telling me I better pray that I don't run into them on the street one day. People demanding I disclose the name of the company I work for because my boss needs to be aware of the kind of person I am ( I called a fictional person a plot device so of course my boss should fire me). These are not serious people. So I stopped replying to them like serious people. I was willing, and in fact did have genuine conversations with a couple of people about him. But the minute the cameo nonsense began it wasn't possible to talk to them anymore. Because they were no longer willing to talk realistically. For them everything became about Lou. It wasn't about Tommy, it certainly wasn't about Buck, most of them don't know anything about Buck. For them it became entirely about Lou. I, like most of the audience, followed the narrative of the television show and as a result we became the enemy. My problem is not with Tommy, because he does serve actual narrative purpose, but he serves Buck's narrative purpose. And they don't want to admit that.

I have stated several times to send me ONE canon thing, anything that shows Tommy as what they are telling us he is and I will be happy to discuss it with them and no one has been able to send me anything canon that validates their point. Because nothing in canon exists. And they know that. Everything I received was from a cameo, a headcanon or was actually Eddie canon that they said should apply to Tommy as well because the show stated their backgrounds are similar. The show stated no such thing. The show stated they were both in the military and both into muay thai and classic cars. That's nowhere near having a similar background or life story (but they are noticeable commonalities for Buck to see which was their entire reason for being in the first place). Then people said he came from an abusive home. What episode was that in? In canon he had one line about a father he didn't get along with. Nowhere near the same as having an abusive childhood. Then I was told he was bullied and picked on in school and in the military and during his time at the 118. No. No. And no. None of that is canon to Tommy. What is canon to Tommy is that he was abusive to Chim and Hen when they arrived at the 118. They came up with the victim Tommy nonsense to absolve him of his abusive behavior, and to yell at anyone who pointed out his actual canon history. Because it has never been about the show's version of Tommy. There is nothing to Tommy that's the point of a plot device. It's about the Tommy they and Lou invented. Lou invented him for attention, knowing the entire time everything he was saying was bullshit. He may not have known his exact last episode at that time but he knew how his arc ended. And he still chose to speak bullshit. Bullshit he literally charged them to say. It was a con. And it was disgusting. And it absolutely ruined anything and everything associated with his very presence for me (nevermind the fact that I don't find him the least bit attractive). I never had an actual problem with Tommy, outside of the problematic behavior we were supposed to be bothered by when he was a plot device for Chim and Hen, because I understand what the point of him is in this storyline. Tommy hasn't had a single scene with Buck that Eddie has not been a part of in some capacity. Either directly or indirectly Eddie has been a part of every one of his scenes. And that is going to continue with this week's episode. That is purposeful. That is intentional and people are allowed to point that out. It's why the show is doing it. They're not being subtle. And following the narrative does not make me or anyone else they're yelling at the enemy. Look, anon what happened was Lou hijacked the narrative for likes and shameless self promotion, and as a result what should have been an amazing experience about watching Buck finally figuring himself out, including his very complicated feelings for Eddie, was also hijacked. This storyline was everything most of the audience wanted but thanks to him and the circus he created it's been miserable and I will forever be, justifiably, angry about that.

Thank you Nonny! 🤗

Yes to all of this and especially to the last few sentences of Ali's answer. In fact, I want to add some of my own thoughts here.

Listen...

I have been watching this show for years now, quietly shipping buddie in my corner of the Internet, writing some fanfic and generally enjoying the ambiance and atmosphere of this great loving fandom. Were there fandom problems in the past? Sure, but which fandom doesn't have some bad elements in it? There were a few smaller problems, but overall it was quite peaceful here, especially on Tumblr.

Then season 7 happened. Finally something happened to shake up the status quo and naturally I started thinking of the next logical step for Buck.

I mean, don't get me wrong, we got bi Buck which was amazing all on its own. This is great rep. Even though I do think that Buck deserved more than the one episode of discovery that he got. He definitely deserved a better first boyfriend. 🙄

But logically the narrative would always lead him to Eddie. Everything we were shown of the BT relationship in season 7 told us over and over again that Tommy wasn't going to last. And that's okay. He was there for a reason and he played his part.

Ultimately, the fandom couldn't enjoy any of it, because as soon as we started theorising how Buck's bisexuality could one day lead him to Eddie, we were called 'homophobic' or 'biphobic'. Afterwards it was months of relentless harassment, threats and hate messages in our ask boxes.

Am I supposed to forget the horrible accusations at my and some of my mutual's address? These people made up lies and created entire falsely written conversations to accuse us of writing these terrible and sick fanfictions. They literally tried to set us up. It's like the plot of a bad B-movie or something. All of this over a ship and a show? It was insanity!🤷‍♀️

This was supposed to be the culmination of Buck and Eddie's story. This was all about Buddie and how all the roads would lead to each other. We were supposed to enjoy that ride. That is what fandom essentially is about: having FUN!

Instead it became some of the most difficult months I've even spent in this fandom. So yeah... like Ali, I'm so incredibly pissed about it.

You guys know me. I don't try to dwell on anger and negativity. So I have done my best to stay positive and inject some of that positivity into the fandom. But yeah... the anger is there and I don't think it's going anywhere any time soon.

That being said though, I have mostly moved on from BT and everything or anyone to do with it. As I said in one of my previous posts. The less attention we give these people, the better.

This means: ignore their posts, block and move on. Start writing some great Buddie fic or make some fanart. Write comments for some fantastic Buddie fanfics. Maybe pop in the DMs of a mutual to discuss the future of Buddie. Reblog theories and add some great tags. Stare at some of those great stills we got. Reread some of the Ryan and Oliver interviews. Do literally anything, but please stop giving these people the attention they want, but don't deserve.

We're here now. That last Oliver interview was the final nail in the BT coffin. We all know it. So let's start thinking and talking about the topics that matter most: Buddie and 911 as a whole, because the show is great and all the other characters deserve some extra love. 🤗

Above all, let's not forget: WE ARE SOOOOO BACK BABY!!!! 😄😄😄

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[badsweetangel]

Kinktober Day 22: Roleplay (Billy Loomis x Reader)

Today for me is October 22nd blah blah blah lol

Warnings: Knife play, slight persecution, attempt to write in neutral gender.

He was chasing you in your own house. You weren't too afraid, because it was just a roleplay; however, you'd be lying if you didn't accept that you were always a little afraid of Billy.

But he wasn't Billy anymore.

He was ghostface. He simply wanted your pain and suffering. And that wouldn't change just because you were his partner.

The more you ran and hid inside your own house, the more genuine fear you felt. You ran away from all the places where you heard noises, wondering from time to time if Billy had forgotten that this was just a roleplay. Twisted, yes. But a game nonetheless. As you ran looking back to find out if he was following you, you collided with him head-on. Stunned, you turned your gaze towards him.

Just ghostface.

You had to be thankful. With you, ghostface was a roleplay that he accepted to please you; however, with the others, it was different. With the others, it wasn't a game. You trembled at the thought of the possibility of being a victim. You shivered at the thought of the possibility that the knife he was wielding was meant to kill you. He grabbed your arm and guided you easily, despite your attempt to escape from him. In one movement, he threw you to the ground, making you fall heavily, moaning in pain. You watched him in fear. You didn't know what you had asked for. Billy was terrifying on his own, but you never thought that Ghostface acted as a completely different identity; it's like he's Billy's shadow. It's like he's all the dark desires he tried to repress.

He approached you, showing you his knife with sarcasm. He quickly covered your mouth when he noticed that you were going to scream. His knife was positioned at your neck; you felt the cold metal brush your skin, and it gave you chills. The mere possibility of thinking that with a movement of his hand, it was going to be the end for you. You breathed calmly as the metal blade slid across your body, threatening to put pressure on certain places. It was a mix of fear and desire. The perfect combination you wanted to experience was the only one you wanted to experience today. He stopped fantasizing about carving his initial with the blade on your skin and started cutting your clothes with his knife. In an animal way. Treating you like an object.

You watched him from your position; you saw how he ripped your underwear and how his fingers touched you to know how wet you were. He smiled when he saw the wetness on his gloves. He was having fun—having too much fun.

Ghostface turned you around so that your new position was face down. Your ass was bare before him, vulnerable. He slid the metal blade again, but this time on your ass. He slid it without sinking in, making the shape of a G, symbolizing that you were Ghostface's. The identity he was playing with you. What you proposed him to do. He was going to mark you, but he repressed him this time. You felt his gloved hands on your ass. He entered you, moving his hips with an animal instinct that was initially repressed. You let out loud moans as you felt his hands squeeze the flesh of your ass hard, without mercy.

He buried himself in you; you felt it deep inside, as if he wanted to break you. Leave you in unbearable pain for several days. His spankings started out strong, but as he heard your moans louder, the blows increased in intensity. Your ass was red and sore, but he continued to hit for his own pleasure.

Ghostface lay on top of you, his chest next to your back, and he wrapped an arm around your neck, making your head imprisoned against his chest. He squeezed hard, as his intention was to cut off your breathing. His hips followed his strong and hard movement. His remaining hand remained on your shoulder, squeezing it when a sensation drove him particularly crazy.

His thrusts were more brutal, and his release was close. You were struggling to breathe, your air supply being cut off, but you tried to relax when you knew from the way Billy's body shook that he was close.

Billy's entire body was rigid, wanting your entrance to be filled with his cum. It was what he wanted more than anything.

His arm loosened, allowing you to breathe.

Ghostface stood up, looking at how he had ruined you. He flipped you over, laid you flat on your back, and sat on top of you. He once again ran the knife across your skin. He stopped at your hip.

Maybe that would be a good place to permanently place his initial. The knife went pressing against your skin.