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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 2 days ago

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Naive - L.C

💡Who: Lee Chan (Seventeen) x female reader 💡What: Best friends to ??? Angst. Thriller. Soft moments. Dark themes (please check warnings). 18+ 💡Word count: 11.5k 💡Warnings: Profanity. Stalking. Nonconsensual voyeurism. Nonconsensual photos. Cheating. Major injury (Not Chan or reader). Mentions of a car accident. Mentions of sexual harassment. Mentions of panic attacks and almost panic attacks. No smut, but suggestive content, some dirty talk and mentions of sexual acts. Very morally dark character. Drugging. Kidnapping. Restraints. Chan calls reader angel a lot (mostly because I don’t wanna use y/n), and baby in the second half.

Summary: Breakups are always painful, but at least you have your best friend by your side to make everything better. Right?

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- I know nothing about flower meanings, it all came straight from Wikipedia so don't blame me for inaccurate meanings, it's just a fic.

“It’s okay, he’s in the past, he’s not worth your tears,” your best friend soothes as you cry into his chest for the third night in a row.

“I-I should’ve li-listened to you,” you sob, gripping his t-shirt tighter and curling up smaller.

“It doesn’t matter now; what matters is you ended it and never have to deal with that asshole again.”

“A-asshole is too kind.”

Chan chuckles and tilts his head against the top of your head yet says nothing more and simply continues to hold you until you run out of tears for your cheating, pervert of an ex-boyfriend. Proving once again that Lee Chan is the only man you can ever trust to be good and honest.

Over a year ago, you met Lee Chan while in the gardening section of the bookstore. It was a cliché romcom moment where you both reached for the same book and your hands met before your eyes did. He smiled at you with a soft little chuckle and said something like “guess we both want to know what Victorian people thought flowers meant”, which somehow led to you both buying a copy of the book on the Victorian language of flowers to take to the nearby coffee shop with the intention of reading side by side. Though very little reading happened, and you found yourself sitting there with Chan for hours; laughing and talking as if you’ve known one another for years. It was like he was made to be the other half of you, designed with only you in mind.

At first, you thought maybe it was true; that Chan was your romantic soulmate. But you were seeing someone else at the time and pushed the thought of Chan being anything but platonic entirely out of your mind.

It’s a year and multiple failed relationships later, while you’re out shopping on a rare day off, that something changes.

“What do you think of this one?” Chan asks, drawing your attention to where he’s a few racks away donned in the black, leather biker jacket he just found on the men’s sale rack.

“Oh,” you murmur, suddenly hit with the realisation that your best friend is ridiculously attractive.

It’s not that you’ve ever thought Chan is ugly; in fact, you first paid attention to him in the bookstore past a glance because of how handsome he is. But that was over a year ago and your thoughts have never moved on from considering him the same kind of beautiful as you would a piece of art that you see in a store, yet easily move on past without looking back.

Yet now, you’ve noticed and suddenly can’t draw your eyes away from him.

“Hello?” Chan laughs, waving his arms to bring you back to reality when you do nothing more than stare at him for almost a full minute. “You alright? Getting hungry?” He pouts at you teasingly. “Does the baby need num nums?”

“I hate it when you say that” you remind and stick your middle finger up at him, making him laugh while you turn back to the sale rack you had been looking through.

“I know, why do you think I say it?” He cackles and bounces over to prod you and gain your attention back. “You didn’t say what you think? Do I look sexy?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you while posing in the jacket. “Should I get it?”

“Yeah,” you answer with a nod after taking his body in once more and turning away.

“Was that yes to getting it, or that I look sexy?” He murmurs from suddenly behind you with his mouth right by your ear. You jolt in surprise having not heard him approach, then turn to whack his arm while he cracks up laughing. “You think I’m sexyyy!” He sings loudly, just to annoy you.

“Why are we best friends again?”

“I took pity on you and your bad taste in men.” He definitely deserves the hit this time, even if he’s right.

Ever since you’ve known Chan, you’ve had nothing but terrible luck with picking men to date. You always think they’re okay at first, but then the red flags start popping up and begin waving manically in the hot air spewing from their mouths.

You really thought you had run out of bad luck and finally picked a good one with your ex. He was kind and endlessly attractive; a hard worker, yet always made time for fun and relaxation; and his parents loved you.

It lasted a whole seven months before you found another woman’s underwear in his car, and you realised you should’ve listened to Chan’s gut feeling about Kyle from the start. Finding a stack of polaroids of various women getting changed when you were emptying his apartment of your belongings that same night only made the heartache worse. Not only did he cheat on you, but he also likes to take photos of unsuspecting women through windows and cracked doors.

Upon turning your back on him three weeks ago, you decided to give up on men and always listen to Chan’s gut instincts from now on.

You don’t need a boyfriend; you just need your best friend.

Just when you’re about to leave your apartment building to meet with Chan for lunch one day, you come face to face with your ex. He looks, frankly put, like shit. He used to be so well put together, never to an obsessive degree but he was always well rested and tidy, but now he looks like he hasn’t slept or eaten in at least two days with his hair sticking up a little as if he’s been running his hands through it repeatedly. He’s still wearing nice clothes, but they’re creased, and his shoes aren’t even properly tied.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss while glaring at the man and trying to step past him, but he gets in your path with his hands held up placatingly; he even doesn’t attempt to touch you or get in your personal space.

Vaguely, you think how weird it is of him to respect that boundary yet have polaroids of you half naked in the changing room at your gym. A completely separate gym to the one he frequents too, which somehow makes it even worse; that he went so far out of his way to take the photos you never consented to.

“I just want to talk to you, please? Just a few minutes and I’ll go, and you’ll never see me again,” he pleads. The genuine desperation in his eyes makes you relent and nod. “Can we go somewhere a little less public? I’m not asking to go somewhere isolated, just not the middle of the building lobby.”

Again, you relent and move to the side of the lobby out of the light foot traffic; still perfectly in sight of others yet far enough away to have a private conversation.

“Thank you,” he breathes out gratefully and relaxes a little as you lean one shoulder against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest.

“What is it? I’m going to be late to meet Chan.”

“Right, how is he?”

“Good, it’s Chan. He’s always good.” The words are a little pointed, designed to hurt, and the way his features flinch at the jab sends a little surge of satisfaction into you. Though there’s something in you aching at that same hurt in his eyes; it looks too real.

“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” he agrees softly, and you hum. “So uh, I just…I can’t stop thinking about what happened.”

“Cheating on me or taking photos of women without their consent?” You question, glaring again at the reminder of why you want nothing to do with this man before you. This pathetic, sad eyed, mess of a man.

It’s funny how far he’s fallen in so little time. Strange how a man who cheated on you in the backseat of the same car he often pulled you into with shared giggles, can break so much at being called out on his misdeeds.

You really thought he would just move on to the next conquest and forget all about you for good, just like he did while with the other woman. Or women. You never asked how many there were.

Yet the man before you doesn’t seem to have moved on at all.

“I didn’t do either of those things,” he repeats the words he had said to you a little over a month ago. You didn’t believe him then; you were so full of anger and betrayal as you tried to cradle the pieces of your shattered heart and hoped he hadn’t stolen any of the pieces leaving you unable to stitch it back together again.

Now that you’ve let go of most of your anger and Chan has helped you in putting the pieces back together to the point that your heart is almost whole and healing, you can see through the pain and tears and notice that this man in front of you looks genuine. He’s looking at you without any attempt to look aside or shrink away. He isn’t hiding.

“I found underwear in your car Kyle,” you point out, holding your ground even if you suddenly realise that something here doesn’t feel right. “And those photos in your apartment.”

“I know, I know, and I’ve been trying to figure out how the fuck they got there because it wasn’t me.”

“You live alone and don’t share your car.”

“I know!” He exclaims, hands flying up in frustration, though it doesn’t feel like it’s aimed at you, especially as he steps back to make certain that he doesn’t accidentally hit you. Kyle’s always been considerate like that; always made sure to give you a wide berth when he flung his arms around in play or frustration. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be a cheating pervert. A man can be against physically harming his partner and still betray their trust so deeply.

“Then only you could’ve put them there.”

“No, no, I didn’t though,” he steps closer while lifting his hands between you, though he brings them to his own chest instead of touching you. “Look me in the eye and tell me I have ever done a thing to make you think I would cheat on you or take photos without consent. I never even asked you for pictures; you were the one who offered and asked if you could send me pictures months into our relationship.”

The thing is, he’s right. Although you did have sex regularly and he would send you dirty texts when he was in the mood, Kyle never asked for nudes. You had to be the one to bring it up and ask if he was against that kind of thing.

Now that he brings it up, you can vividly recall him telling you that does enjoy nudes and would certainly enjoy seeing photos of you like that, but he also knows how dangerous they can be to send and receive because of hacking, losing phones or breaking up. He had been so genuine about it and triple checked that you were comfortable with it entirely before giving you consent to send him photos whenever you wanted.

“You had those polaroids, you didn’t need me to send you any,” you reason in a mumble. You don’t even know if you believe what you’re saying at this point, or if you’re just trying to explain the behaviour away. Something isn’t sitting right in you.

“Why would I want polaroids of random women I don’t even know when I have you?” He asks, eyes silently begging you to understand.

“There were photos of me too,” you answer.

“What?” He frowns confusedly. “I didn’t see those, just the top ones before you took them all away.”

“You know I was in there, at the gym changing rooms.”

“I’ve never been anywhere near your gym!” He puts his face in his hands. “I don’t understand what the fuck is going on. I swear I have never been to your gym.” He looks at you imploringly as his hands drop. “And you know I keep my car clean, there’s no way I would’ve failed to notice that underwear; so if I did cheat on you, do you really think I’d miss the evidence and leave them somewhere you’d see them?”

You open your mouth to retort automatically, only to realise there isn’t a single word ready to roll off your tongue. He’s making far too much sense and that doesn’t make sense.

He cheated on you. He’s a pervert who takes photos of unsuspecting women in vulnerable situations. He’s a terrible person.

At least, you thought he was.

Maybe Chan is right and you’re just naïve when faced with a handsome man giving you big puppy dog eyes.

“I need to go,” you decide after a few long moments of trying to form some kind of reaction other than staring at him with furrowed brows. “Chan’s waiting.”

“Right,” Kyle lets out a disappointed sigh, yet nods resignedly and steps back as if giving you space to leave. He hadn’t been in your way in the first place but it’s a silent sign that he won’t try to stop you. “I guess I can’t say anything else to convince you that I didn’t do those things, and I never would. I…I wanted to marry you, you know?”

“What?” You whisper in shock, eyebrows lifting as your eyes turn wide. “Marry me?”

“Yeah,” he lets out a soft, humourless laugh and runs one hand through his hair while looking aside, a shy flush creeping onto his neck and ears. “I was in love with you.”

“You were?”

“Yeah, well, no, actually, that’s a lie.” He looks at you and catches the way your face falls into a frown hearing him admitting to lying to your face like that. “I’m still so fucking in love with you that I can’t function properly knowing you hate me. I’m not asking you to come back to me; I know that won’t happen. I’m just…asking you to really think about it, about us, and me. I never lied to you, never showed you a false me. You know me better than anyone else. Do you really believe I did those things?”

“What took you so long?” Chan pouts at you when you sit down in your usual seat opposite him at your usual table in your usual café. “Angel?”

“Uh, so Kyle was at my apartment,” you inform, picking up your mug that’s been waiting for you for ten minutes already thanks to Chan always ordering for you both. Usually you arrive minutes before your food and drinks arrive, but today you’re late for the first time.

“What?” Chan’s face drops so drastically it throws you off for a second. You’ve never seen such a dark expression on him; you’ve never seen him so entirely void of any light. He doesn’t look like your best friend. “Your apartment? Did he force himself in? Did he hurt you?”

“No, no, I meant the lobby and no, he’s never hurt me. He wouldn’t do that.”

“He cheated on you, took fucking creeper shots of you in your gym and you think he’s above putting his hands on you?” He scoffs, shaking his head a little and pushes the salt across the table to you. You hadn’t asked for it, but you will before you start eating.

He’s always doing thoughtful little things like that for you, but you’ve never really noticed it until the last weeks. Silently noticing what you need and giving it to you with a smile.

But he’s not smiling now. He looks concerned now, rounded eyes locked on you and head tilted down a little as he frowns, almost looking at you through his eyelashes. “I don’t want to be mean or anything, but he fooled you before, angel, he’s clearly trying to do it again. I don’t know what he said to you, but you’ve got that lost look you get when you don’t know what to do.”

“He made good points, Channie,” you reply as you salt your fries before putting the shaker down. Chan doesn’t even look at it past a quick glance before sliding it back to its home out of the way.

“What good points could he have for cheating on you?”

“He said he didn’t do it-” Chan sighs heavily, cutting you off.

“Angel, he said that before, remember? Why do you suddenly believe that piece of shit?”

“Because…he looked honest.”

Chan stares at you for a moment before he sighs and reaches over to hold your hands. “I say this with all the love in me, but you’re not the best judge of character, angel. You’re naïve, innocent. I love that you see the good in the world and everyone, really, I fucking love it; it’s really sweet and cute. But it’s going to get you hurt all over again if you let him fool you like this.”

You look down at your hands in Chan’s, then back up at his face. His gaze is entirely open; big eyes and soft, naturally pouting lips. Your heart skips a beat.

You look away while nodding in understanding, silently telling him that you’re listening to him as you free your hands so that you can pick up your fork.

“Good, I really don’t want to see you hurt again like that. It broke my heart,” Chan says, relaxing as he picks up his own fork to stab too many fries onto the prongs, which he then points at you. “If you break my heart again like that, I’m stealing your TV.”

“My TV?” You sputter in surprise before laughing. Chan grins around the too many fries in his mouth and nods. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me though,” he sings around his mouthful while stabbing more fries.

Even with the view of his partially chewed food in his mouth, you can’t really deny it.

“No! Stop it!” You giggle while trying to block Chan from entering your kitchen behind you. “It’s not ready!”

“Just tell me what you’re doing!” He replies, laughing along with you as he tries to dart around you.

“Not yet! Just wait, you impatient shit!”

“No!” He wraps his arms around your waist to pull you away from the doorway and spin you both, so his back is to the kitchen now instead of yours. “Ha!”

“No!” You gasp and reach out, grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt and in a panic, you yank him closer harshly, unintentionally making him stumble into you.

“Shit, are you okay?” He worries once you’re both steady and he’s holding your upper arms to nudge you back just enough that he can look at your face. You’re frowning, though he can only see your furrowed eyebrows thanks to your hand being over most of the bottom half of your face to cup your nose as his shoulder had collided with it. “Oh, did I hurt you?”

“Asshole,” you murmur while nodding, even if it doesn’t hurt that much; you just honestly like being doted on by your best friend to the extent that you are willing to play up minor injuries to gain his gentle touch and attention.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he apologises, frowning at you as he carefully tugs your hand down. “Let Doctor Channie see.”

“You’d be a terrible doctor,” you reply, moving your hand down to let him cup your face so that he can tilt your head into the light coming in through the windows and see your features better.

“What? I’d be great!” He defends, pouting at you offendedly.

“You thought the uvula is what you pee from.”

“It’s not my fault!” He blushes a little at the reminder of his innocent mix up. “Nobody told me that dangly thing isn’t tonsils! And the pee pipe thingy starts with a U too!”

“Urethra.”

“Exactly, they’re so similar! They should name them differently. Anyway, that doesn’t mean anything, I’d still be a good doctor.”

“Yeah, until you try to catheter someone’s throat.” His expression turns unimpressed, and you can’t help but giggle. He rolls his eyes as his lips turn up into a smile.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmurs, turning his attention back to your slightly red nose.

“Mm, so what’s the verdict doc?” You tease, poking at his stomach and trying not to focus on the physical reminder that your best friend has abs under his baggy clothes.

“I think you’ll be okay with the right treatment.”

“And what treatment is that?”

“The best thing for a boo-boo,” he replies seriously, and then visibly nearly breaks into a laugh at the almost glare you land on him. “What?”

“I’m not a baby.”

“Yes you are. My baby,” he coos and taps his thumbs to your cheeks. You hope he doesn’t see or feel the way they warm at his words. “I specialise in baby angels, I know this.”

“You’re seriously ridiculous.”

“Mm, so, are you consenting to Doctor Channie’s effective boo-boo treatment?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You haven’t told me what it is yet.”

“You know what the treatment for a boo-boo is, angel,” he chuckles and tilts forward to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “Like that.”

“I didn’t consent to that treatment, I can sue you,” you mumble, trying to distract from the growing pink on your cheeks. Chan’s eyes glide over your features, lips turning up into a soft smile. “Stop smiling at me like that!” You whine, slapping his waist so gently that it can’t even be classed at a slap, more like you’re just putting your hands on his waist with a little force.

“But you’re so fucking cute,” he reasons, smiling wider. “My cute baby,” he murmurs lowly and brushes his nose against yours gently. Your breath hitches at the tender action while your fingers curl reflexively to loosely grip his t-shirt. “Do I have consent to administer treatment, angel?” He whispers, lips so close to yours that you can almost feel them moving as he talks.

“I…” Just as you start to nod, your phone starts to ring in the kitchen, making you jump in surprise and jolt away from Chan in a natural reaction to the unexpected noise. “I should get that.”

“Right,” Chan mutters, dropping his arms to his side with a disappointed frown as he watches you scoot around him to enter the kitchen.

When you pick up your phone from the counter, you’re more than just a little surprised to see your ex’s mother calling you.

You haven’t heard from her since the breakup when she messaged you to say that she doesn’t know what happened, but she hopes that you and her can still be friends as she values you so highly. You hadn’t responded then; you hadn’t wanted to interact with anyone who you knew through him, even if you had regret ghosting her afterwards because she genuinely is such a lovely woman who always treated you lovingly.

Still, even with the period of no contact between you, you pick your phone up to answer the call. “Hello?”

“O-oh thank goodness,” the still familiar voice sobs in relief.

“Auntie? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Kyle, there-there’s been an accident.”

Just over an hour after receiving the call, you’re tucked up in between Kyle’s parents on the couch of the private room with their arms around you, both of them crying for their son as you do your best to comfort them while feeling numb yourself. You’re too in shock at the sight of the heavily injured man laid unconscious on the bed to process it.

When you had arrived with Chan right behind you, the pair had just about managed to tell you through their tears that Kyle had been driving to work that morning when another vehicle had violently run him off of the road.

It had been on such a quiet road so early that nobody else was around; no witnesses to give details of the other car, nor to run to his aide or call for help. By the time someone found the wreck in the ditch, it had been long enough that too much damage had been done.

And now, even after hours of surgery, there’s no knowing if Kyle will make it through the night, let alone wake up again. There’s only waiting.

So, you wait.

“They’ll call if there’s any sign,” Chan reminds as he helps you out of your jacket. “You spent two days by his side, angel, there’s nothing more you can do for him. He’s not your responsibility or person to care for anymore. His parents and sister are there, and they promised to call you.”

“I know,” you reply, moving woodenly as Chan leads you through your apartment to the kitchen with his hand in yours to keep you moving.

He flicks on the light and falls still at the sight of the mess you left on the counter from leaving so quickly three evenings ago to get to the hospital. He never learned what you had been refusing to let him see until now. “Cake,” he murmurs, noticing the half decorated cake on the counter, surrounded by all the items you had been using to decorate it.

“For your new job,” you reply with a shrug. “It’s no good now. Sorry, I’ll buy you a replacement tomorrow.”

“No, no, you don’t have to. Just knowing is enough for me,” Chan assures, turning to bring you in to hold against his chest where you melt against him with an exhale. “I appreciate the thought and effort you went to, angel; that means more than a store bought cake ever could.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t finish it.”

“It’s not your fault. Let’s order something for dinner and while it’s on its way, I’ll clean this up while you go shower.”

“Do I smell?” You mumble against his shoulder.

“Like sadness,” he retorts with a joking edge to his sombre tone that makes you jab your fingers into his waist in scold. He yelps and contorts away from your fingers without releasing his arms from around you. “And meanness.”

“Meanness,” you repeat, scoffing a short laugh and leaning back from his shoulder to look at him.

“Yes. It’s mean to take advantage of my weak spots.”

“You do it to me all the time.”

“Yes, but you’re the nice one, my angel,” he coos, pinching your cheek before he lets you go to nudge you out of the kitchen while you try to recall just when it got so normal for Chan to call you his.

Since becoming best friends with Chan, it’s not unusual at all to return home and find him in your apartment as if he owns the place. Honestly, you genuinely think he spends more time in your apartment than his own, especially the past couple months. The couch is practically his bed at this point.

What is very unusual however, is to arrive home to find the door slightly open and hear another voice talking with Chan from inside your apartment.

“Chan?” You call in a cautious, soft voice as you nudge the door open and peer around it.

“Hi, angel, welcome home,” Chan greets, smiling at you and motioning you to join him opposite the two uniformed police officers standing and talking to him in the entrance hall.

“What’s going on, Channie?” You ask as you stand at his side and cling to his hand while remaining just a little behind him and away from the officers. They’re both taller than you and Chan, with one of them being thick with muscle and rather intimidating. Though when he smiles at you in polite greeting, most of the fear melts away.

“This is Officer Choi Seungcheol and Officer Chwe Hansol, they’re here to talk to you about Kyle,” Chan explains, motioning to each man in turn.

“Is there news on who ran him off the road?” You ask, looking at the two men with hope in your eyes and chest. It’s been over a week since the incident and there hasn’t been any more information about who put Kyle into such a devastating condition.

The last you heard, they had managed to get sight of a damaged SUV in the general vicinity from CCTV a handful of roads away, but the plates turned out to be stolen from another car across the country over a year ago and the windows were blacked out so there’s no way to tell who was driving the car. Whoever it was clearly knows the streets well enough that they escaped the CCTV quickly and the vehicle hasn’t shown up since. Nor has one matching the description been scrapped or sent to be fixed.

“That’s not our department,” the intimidating officer, Seungcheol, replies while giving you another gentle little smile. “I’m afraid we’re from the sexual crimes division, ma’am.”

“Sexual crimes?” You whisper in shock. “Wh-what?”

“We’ve received reports that Kyle has sexually harassed and stalked multiple women over the past year.”

“No, he-he wouldn’t-” you argue, shaking your head as your hands start to tremble ever so slightly, so you hold onto Chan’s hand tighter with both of yours to try and cease the shuddering movements. “You’re wrong.”

“I understand that it’s hard to hear these things about someone you thought you knew, but we have to follow up every lead we have to get all the information we need to press charges.”

“He’s in a hospital bed!” You baulk and let out an incredulous laugh. “You want to charge a man who might not even wake up? What kind of a person are you?!”

“It’s not our choice, ma’am. We’re just doing our jobs and trying to get justice for the victims.”

“I’m not having any part in this. I have nothing to say to you. He never did a thing wrong to me. Get out,” you insist, pointing to the door. “I’m not going to let you bring these accusations into my home without proof.”

“We have proof,” the other officer speaks up, earning a slightly disapproving look from his partner, but he isn’t stopped. “We saw proof ourselves; photos of women taken from outside of windows and other positions that clearly show a lack of consent. And a hidden, digital diary alluding to the acts that match up with statements we received from victims.”

“Photos?” You repeat disbelievingly.

“Yes ma’am, and I’m afraid you were in some. Based on the angle and quality, we believe the photos were taken from a roof into what we can only assume is your own bedroom.”

“My bedroom?”

“Yes ma’am. May we see your room and take photos for comparative purposes?”

“My bedroom…” You can only repeat, too in shock to do anything else as you stare dumbly at the two uniformed men in front of you.

“I think she needs a moment,” Chan says while putting his arm around you to support your gradually weakening body.

“Of course, we’ll wait right here,” Seungcheol agrees in a gentle tone and nods understandingly.

Chan carefully takes you to the living room to sit you on the couch and kneels in front of you. “Baby, breathe, come on,” he encourages softly as he holds your face. “You’re going to have a panic attack if you don’t copy me, come on.” He starts to take exaggerated breaths; big inhale, hold, slow exhale.

You blink at him unseeingly for a few of his breaths before your eyes drop to his mouth and you naturally copy the man who has helped you level your breathing more times than you can count the past year.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises. “A few more for me, you can do a few more for your Channie, right?” You nod so he smiles and takes a handful more deep, steadying breaths, each of which you obediently copy. “Good, well done.” He leans forward and kisses your head. “I’ll deal with the cops, okay? You just sit here and let your Channie handle it all. You just relax, angel.”

There isn’t a single part of you that wants to face the officers and their accusations again, so you simply nod and let Chan tuck a blanket around you as you curl up against the back of the sofa, before he turns on the TV just loud enough that when he goes back into the hall to talk to the two men, you can’t make out their low murmuring voices.

Throughout the remainder of the visit from the two officers, you don’t move, just sit staring blankly at the cushions in front of you as your mind whirls.

You don’t know what to believe. When Kyle had visited you that day, you really did believe him. Even now, there’s a part of you that struggles to believe the sincerity in his eyes and voice to be nothing more than a clever act to fool you. He has never laid a hand on you, never forced you to do anything or kicked up a fuss if you rejected his advances. Kyle was good.

Or maybe not.

If the police aren’t lying to you, then they have proof; more photos, even though you took the ones you found that time and burned them all, and witness accounts, or well, victim’s statements would be the correct term.

You know it’s possible to spend your entire life with a person and never truly know them, but you truly had thought that you knew Kyle. You had been so close to falling in love with him; that’s why it had hurt so much. You truly had believed that one day, you’d fall mutually in love with him, with a good man, and have a happy life together.

But all this; the accusations, the proof you had found yourself even if you still struggle to accept it at face value, it just goes to show that you never really know a person.

“They’re gone,” Chan’s voice breaks you from your thoughts. You turn your head to watch him cross the living room to sit at your side and invite himself under the blanket. He puts his left arm on the back of the couch in a silent offer that you readily accept, shuffling closer to tuck up under his arm and settle when it’s around you securely.

“Was it my room?” You ask, not really sure if you want to know the answer. But you need to.

Chan lets out a breath that sounds like a reluctant sigh. It’s almost answer enough, yet you need to hear it. “Yeah, angel, it looks like it was your room. They took photos and are going to go to the roof of the motel opposite to take a photo from there to see if it matches. I’ve given them my number to keep me updated and so they contact me if they need to, not you. I told them about the photos you found too and that you burned them so no-one else can have them.”

“Should-should I have reported him then?” You wonder, suddenly worried that you had potentially endangered women by not stepping up.

“Maybe,” he replies in a way that you just know means he thinks you should’ve, but he doesn’t want to upset you.

You curl up smaller and turn your face into his shoulder to let the familiar, soothing scent of his cologne and laundry detergent ease you.

Chan tilts his head on top of yours and holds you that bit tighter. “At least he can’t hurt anyone else anymore.”

The words are supposed to be comforting, but they don’t comfort you at all.

The news comes only a few days later.

It didn’t take long to gather evidence to support the accusations against Kyle. The warrant for his home turned up the photos and a hidden memory stick containing a written diary with documents matching dates of some of the statements, though many more entries without a woman to match to the words. The police just had to confirm the evidence and talk to some people before moving forward with it, like they did with you and Chan.

If it wasn’t for Kyle’s condition, the case would’ve been closed only two days after the police visited you, and he would’ve been sent off to prison. As it is, the man still hasn’t woken and the doctors aren’t confident that he ever will, so he can’t really be held accountable for his actions.

When Chan tells you the news, you feel bad that for the first time, you’re glad that Kyle is unconscious and likely to never wake up; at least this way, he won’t have to face the accusations which a part of you still can’t believe are true.

What you are finally letting yourself believe though, are all the times Chan called you naïve.

“Delivery for the cutest baby angel to have ever existed,” comes the greeting from behind the massive bouquet of flowers almost shoved in your face the very moment you open the front door of your apartment to see who has been insistently ringing the bell.

“That is an obscene amount of flowers,” you murmur while eyeing the bouquet.

It lowers and your best friend’s head appears as he pouts at you cutely. “Don’t you want it?”

“Gimmie,” you encourage, making grabby hands. Chan grins and hands you the bouquet, which is literally three times bigger than your head, before stepping into the apartment while you wander off, happily admiring and sniffing the multitude of flowers.

It’s not unusual for Chan to bring you flowers at all; rather, it’s unusual for your home to not have flowers gifted to you from your best friend. Even if he can’t visit you he sends you flowers at least weekly, and the ones he sends tend to always be more extravagant as if he’s making up for not giving them to you in person.

Every single bouquet is always handpicked by Chan; he always chooses which flowers to give you, not based on their colour or scent but for the meaning.

One of the things that helped you and Chan bond when you first met was your shared love of flowers and their meanings. You both know the meanings of a vast array of flowers, and he always includes yellow roses in his bouquet to symbolise your friendship.

Today is no different; there is an abundance of yellow roses in the bouquet, but there are a mixture of other flowers often in yellow themes, as it seems rather common for yellow flowers to symbolise friendship and happiness.

But sometimes there’s other colours; a little pop of pink tulips to show he cares, white carnations with a cheeky wink as he calls you baby angel, fragrant lavender to remind you of his loyalty to your friendship. Every bouquet is carefully crafted as a message; to tell you that Chan is your best friend and will always be there to love and support you.

And today, right there amongst the usual flowers, a handful of light pink roses.

You run through your mental list of flower meanings. Pink roses tend to mean grace, dark pink for gratitude and light pink has a few meanings just like many flowers. Many of the flowers Chan gives you have multiple meanings, but when put together the bouquets he gives you all mean the same thing. However, light pink roses aren’t used to symbolise friendship, innocence, or care. They mean youth, energy, passion, desire. None of those really blend with the rest of the bouquet’s meaning and it throws you for a loop.

“Did they put in the wrong flower?” You ask, pointing to the light pink roses as you look over at Chan puzzled. He walks over to peer at the bouquet and where you’re motioning, before shaking his head. “But they don’t mean friendship,” you mumble confusedly and look at the flowers again as you try to decipher their reasoning.

Chan doesn’t say a word, just leans his left hip against the counter, left palm on the surface and right hand fiddling with the unused belt loop on your jeans as he waits.

“Wait!” You turn to face him while pointing an accusing finger at him. “Is this you calling me a baby again? Light pink roses for youth?”

Chan chuckles and shakes his head, sliding two of his fingers into the loop now you’re facing one another and letting his palm settle against your hip. “No, it’s not that, though that’s a good one, I should’ve thought of that.”

“Then what?” You tilt your head a little, pouting naturally with your innocent confusion.

“You know. I know you know this one, angel,” he encourages and tugs you closer.

“Joy of life?” You offer, too used to him leading you around and being physically affectionate to really register how close he has you, or how his thumb is gradually tugging at your t-shirt where it’s tucked into your jeans.

“No.”

“Well it’s certainly not energy, you always say I lack energy. Or are you trying to like, manifest energy for me?”

“No, but once again, that’s good, I’ll make you a manifestation bouquet one day soon.”

“Then what? I’m confused, Chan.”

“Want me to tell you?” You nod in confirmation. “What if I show you?”

“What?”

He smirks a little, then pushes off of the counter and cups your jaw with his left hand. “Should I tell you, or show you, baby?” He murmurs, voice pitching low in a way that sends shivers up and down your spine. He leans in closer, brushing his nose against your cheek and nose in a teasing manner, but he doesn’t do anything more. “Well?”

It takes a few seconds for you to react; your heart is racing with anticipation, and you need to swallow a few times. He pulls back and notices your gaze slide down to his lips. “Show me,” you say in a voice so soft and shy it’s practically a whisper.

Chan doesn’t need to be told twice; he darts forward to slot his lips against yours for the first time. There’s no hesitance in his movements, no gentle teasing and dancing as he eases you into it; he kisses you passionately from the first moment, guiding your head to tilt in the perfect angle to deepen the kiss to a filthy degree when he coaxes your mouth open only seconds after his lips touch yours.

You never expected this from Chan; never imagined he’d kiss in such a manner that you feel like he’s consuming your heart and soul in the best of ways. He’s only been kissing you for a few seconds, yet your knees are weak, and you have to cling to him to keep yourself upright.

The moment your hand grips the back of his neck, Chan groans in pleased approval against your mouth and pins you roughly against the counter; his hips pressed against yours and his right hand giving up being subtle about his wants as he yanks your t-shirt out of the waistband of your jeans so that he can slide his hand underneath and run his palm against your bare skin.

Of course, a kiss that passionate can’t go on for too long, you especially need to catch your breath as you hadn’t been prepared at all for the intensity and keep forgetting to breathe as your lips and tongue move with his.

Though when you press against his chest and turn your head aside slightly to try and catch your breath, Chan doesn’t stop kissing you, he just relocates his focus, leaving a trail of hot, open mouthed kisses over your jaw and down your neck.

“Wanted you for so fucking long, angel,” he admits, voice thick with arousal and sounding unfairly in breath even if his chest is heaving too. He drags his teeth over the crook of your neck making you gasp and grip him tighter. “Driving me crazy, ‘m so hard. Can I have you? Can I take you to bed and drown in your pussy? Fuck you so hard I owe you a new bed?”

“Fuck,” you breathe out and grab a handful of his hair to drag him back up. His eyes are so hooded that you’re not certain he’s even looking at you. He looks so far gone and it does dangerous things to you. “Y-you do so much for me, Chan.”

“What?” He blinks away some of the lust dazing him to peer at you confusedly, and a little offended and the out of place comment. “What are you talking about all of a sudden? I’m trying to take you to bed, and you say that? You can just say no, not do some weird speech.”

“I’m not doing that,” you assure and move your left hand off of his shoulder, down his torso and under his oversized t-shirt to find the button of his jeans. He looks down in surprise, then back up at you with desire flooding back into his expression and eyes as you skilfully get his jeans open. Neither of you care that they immediately drop to the floor around his ankles with the jangle of his keys in his pocket, as you get your hand in his boxers. “Let me do this for you.”

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, whatever you want angel,” he approves before leaning in to seal your lips back together.

After your tryst in the kitchen, which lead to half of the bouquet getting destroyed when Chan bent you over the counter chest first into the flowers, sex is suddenly on the table for the two of you. Often literally. It seems as if that encounter opened the floodgates of a year of repressed desire from Chan and alerted you to the fact that his passion is more than just a little reciprocated.

Of course, you’ve known for a while now that you’re attracted to Chan; ever since the realisation that day in the store thanks to the leather jacket, which he is often prancing around in, especially since he’s realised how much you like him in it. Sometimes he’ll even turn up at your apartment, open the zip of his jacket and reveal that he’s wearing nothing but your marks underneath, leading to you pinning him to the closest surface to expand on the collection.

What you hadn’t known is just how deep your attraction runs. That at some point within you, the lust starts to morph and before it reaches your chest, it turns to a love which squeezes your heart a little every time he slows down to press a soft kiss to your lips, or you find him looking at you with eyes sparkling with adoration.

You never imagined that you would fall for your best friend, yet here you are, weeks into your relationship turning sexual, and falling asleep naked in his arms more often than not while not wanting the morning to come because you know he’ll leave before you’re awake so that he can go home and get ready for work.

There’s a part of you that has, on more than one occasion, almost blurted out that he should just bring his work clothes over; you’ve already made space in the wardrobe to hang his shirts and space in the drawer for his trousers. But you don’t.

As much as you’ve come to understand and accept that the love you feel for Chan is no longer purely platonic, you aren’t ready to move on from your ex. There’s still a piece of your heart in Kyle’s hands, even if they are limp in his hospital bed and your heart should’ve been released back to you months ago.

You’ve tried to move on; you thought it would’ve happened naturally thanks to your recently developed feelings for your best friend and the regular sessions of getting fucked dumb into various surfaces by the man.

Still, Kyle remains, and you don’t understand why your heart won’t let you love Chan entirely.

You hope that Chan is happy with this; that he’s content to spend spare moments between your usual hangouts and your thighs. You don’t want to have to tell him that you’re not over Kyle; you know that Chan doesn’t like the man. Although he never voices his displeasure in you still visiting the Kyle in the hospital, you can always see it in his eyes when you leave and how he fucks you that bit harder when you return.

Hope, it seems, is still stubbornly stuck in the bottom of the box, and has no place in the real world, especially not yours.

“You have a key,” you point out flatly when you open the door having expected the takeout you’ve ordered for dinner for yourself and Chan, yet find the man himself on the other side of the door with his hands behind his back and still wearing his work clothes. “What’re you hiding? Please tell me it’s dinner; I thought you’re the delivery man you know?”

“It’s not dinner,” he chuckles, then brings his hands around to reveal this week’s bouquet. Tulips; red, yellow, and orange. Love.

“Chan…” you trail off, not sure what to say and expression downturned when you look up at him. You can practically see the moment you break his heart.

“Oh, I guess I misread this,” he smiles embarrassed and awkward, even with the pain evident in his eyes. “I thought that you might return my feelings finally, but I guess not.”

“You’re not wrong,” you confess softly. “I just…I’m not over Kyle.”

“What?” His features scrunch in bewilderment. “You’re not over the man who would be arrested for sexual harassment and stalking right now if not in a coma? Am I hearing that right?”

“I still can’t connect that to the man I knew.”

“He really fucked with your head, didn’t he?” His arms lower defeatedly.

“No, he didn’t. He was just…good to me.”

“He cheated on you, angel, he wrote about it in his diary and other women have said as much too. What’s it going to take for you to accept that and move on?”

“I-I don’t know, Chan. I’m sorry but I just can’t do that. I’ve tried to get over him, but it hasn’t happened.”

“Well…I’m not going anywhere,” he declares and steps forward to offer the bouquet. “You may not be able to love me and be with me the way I want, but I still love you, with everything in me and I’ll be here for you all the same.”

“Won’t that hurt you?”

“Baby,” he chuckles and tenderly cups your cheek in one hand, the other still holding the tulips you’ve yet to accept. “I’ve loved you since the moment I first laid my eyes on you; I’ve been by your side through all of the assholes you gave your time to, even if they didn’t deserve it. This one will pass too.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“It will,” a flash of determination appears in his eyes as he smiles at you. “You’ll be mine soon enough, I promise you that, angel.”

At first, you had been cautious with Chan after his confession. You don’t want to hurt him and make him suffer at your side, so you pulled back on the affection and stopped the sexual aspect of your relationship entirely. Chan hadn’t been very happy and pouted at you when you turned him down the first time, but he didn’t push it and accepted it. Though he still reaches out to pull you close to hold and well, you don’t really want to quit him truthfully, so you let that happen.

After a few weeks, it’s as if the month of mind-blowing sex never happened and you and Chan are back to being nothing more than best friends. He keeps to his word and remains by your side as he always has, with no pushing or attempts to get you to reconsider and accept his love wholeheartedly.

Maybe that’s why one day when you’re laid side by side on a picnic blanket looking up at the stars with the snacks and drinks, which Chan supplied for the stargazing session, contently settling in your belly, you look at him and for the first time, you don’t feel as if your heart is missing a single piece.

“What?” Chan asks, side eyeing you amusedly when you’ve been staring at him instead of the sky for a few seconds too long. “Are you about to tell me that the stars in the sky don’t sparkle as bright as the stars in my eyes?”

“Where do you even come up with this stuff?” You laugh and nudge him playfully before sitting up. “Whoa,” you murmur when your head spins, eyes slamming closed and hands flying out to try and balance yourself.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Chan’s hands are on you in seconds as he sits up to support you.

“M wobbly,” you slur, trying to look at him as your hands grip him tight. “Channie,” you start to panic as the dizziness doesn’t subside at all, if anything it feels like it’s getting worse as he starts to multiply before your eyes. “S-something’s wrong.”

“Shh, it’s okay, Channie’s got you, lay down angel, Channie’s got you,” he soothes, gently laying you back down on the blanket and propping himself up on his right elbow as his left hand cups your cheek. “You’ll feel better soon; just close your eyes and let your Channie look after you.”

“Chan…” You’re finding it harder and harder to move your body with every second. It feels as if your muscles are turning to sludge and bones rubber. You try to lift your arm from where it flopped to your stomach when he laid you down, yet you can’t lift it.

Chan watches the panic fill your eyes and strokes his hand over your head, then back to your cheek again. “You’re okay, my love, I’ll never let anything happen to you. Your Channie will always look after you.”

You can’t even open your mouth to respond. A choked sound leaves your parted lips as your vision starts blurring darkly around the edges.

“I will do whatever I need to, to make sure that nobody can ever hurt you again, my angel,” his voice is taking on a strange otherworldly quality, fading in and out every other syllable.

It feels as if you’re becoming one with the ground under you. It’s still hard against your back, yet it feels as if you’re melting into it, like every point of contact is rapidly ceasing to exist as you fight to keep your eyes open.

“Close your eyes, baby,” Chan’s warped voice meets you. He says something else, but a buzzing appears, overlapping his muffled words until the high pitched sound is all you can hear.

You feel something touch your forehead and brush down gently, forcing your eyes closed. You don’t have the strength to open them again.

It’s pitch black, only the ringing for company until suddenly, it leaves.

There’s barely time to register the pure silence before your consciousness melts into the ground to join the rest of you.

Everything comes back to you all at once.

Your body jerks awake as your eyes fly open. The soft, natural light around you is too bright on your sore eyes and the gentle sound of the birds outside singing their morning song pierces your sensitive ears. Instinctively, you close your eyes and lift your hands with the intention of pressing your palms to your ears to block out the noise, but something stops you from raising your hands more than a few inches.

Panicked, your eyes open and look down to find thick, padded straps around your wrists and buckled in place with a chain connecting each to the wooden frame of the bed under you. You tug, but they don’t give. You try to move your legs, but your ankles are bound in the same way; even if you don’t look at them to check, you just know you’d see the same binds there.

“Breathe,” the voice is familiar, is the one that you’re so used to listening to that you find yourself listening and taking some deep, stabilising breaths without even thinking about it. “Good girl.”

After a few seconds, you realise that Chan is in the room; the strange room where you’re cuffed to a strange bed. You have no idea where you are; the walls look wooden and it smells kind of musty, like it hasn’t been used in a while, but the familiar scent of Chan’s laundry detergent meets your nose from the soft, clean pillow under your head when you turn your head to try and find the man.

He’s sitting in a rickety old rocking chair near the closed door of the small room.

There’s nothing else in the room; no curtains on the window on the wall, which the right side of the bed is pushed against; the window is cracked open, letting in fresh air but even from where you’re laid, you can see bars on the outside. There’s a bulb hanging from the centre of the ceiling emitting a redundant, soft orange glow. And nothing else.

Just you, the bed, the chair, and the man you thought was your best friend looking at you as he gently rocks back and forth, back and forth, the chair creaking with every movement.

For tense moments, minutes maybe, you just stare at Chan in horror. This is not the man you’ve spent the past almost two years side by side with. This is not the man you had been seconds away from telling that you finally loved him with everything in you.

Your Chan is beautiful inside and out; with bright eyes always shining with mirth and adoration when they find you, and a smile that could weaken the toughest of hearts. He was love and happiness. Your love. Your happiness. You don’t know where that’s gone.

This Chan terrifies you. His face is flat, no smile, no sparkle in his eyes. He’s looking at you with an expression so dark and haunting; something similar to the way he looked when you told him that Kyle turned up at your apartment building all those months ago in the café, yet somehow so much worse.

For the first time since meeting Lee Chan, you look at him and you want to be as far away as possible, and then further. This isn’t a man you want to be near. Yet, you’re left without a choice.

“Wha-what’s going on, Chan?” You stammer.

“This is your fault, you know,” he informs matter-of-factly. “If you had just said yes to me that day, if you hadn’t held onto that fucking asshole, then this would’ve never happened. We could be at home, in bed; I could be buried deep in your pussy and filling you with cum again and again until you’re round with my baby. We could’ve been happy; had our family, gotten married,” he huffs a dry laugh and abruptly stops rocking. “We could’ve had the perfect fucking family, baby! We could’ve been perfect. But no! You had to cling to that asshole!” He gets to his feet, flinging his arms up in the air as his lips start to split into a disbelieving smile.

He doesn’t even seem to notice that you flinch and try to move further away from him as he steps closer. He seems entirely caught up in his own monologue as he starts to pace the short length of the room to your left.

“I’ve done everything I can to win you over! I studied you for fucking months before showing myself to you. Changed my hair, changed my style, even changed my fucking interests to suit your tastes!” He wheels around and stalks closer to put his right hand on the headboard above you while he stares down at you with eyes wide. “I fucking hate flowers, you know? Hate those stupid fucking things, yet I read every fucking book I could find to learn about them. Learned how to grow them from tiny little seeds all for you,” he points at you. “And what thanks do I get?” He laughs and pushes away from the bed to turn and take a few steps away. “Nothing! Okay, no, no, that’s not fair to you,” he concedes.

Chan turns to face you with his hands and features settled so suddenly into something so placating that you wonder if you had imagined the unhinged mess he was seconds ago.

“I got to taste that pretty little pussy and feel it around my cock, your mouth too. Fuck, baby, I could’ve held out longer if you hadn’t ended that but you, you little cock tease, had to give me a taste of heaven and rip it away from me.” He tuts disapprovingly and gives you an exaggerated pout. “You’ve really broken my heart, you know?”

“Th-then let me go and you never ha-have to see me again,” you try to reason, but he laughs; a full, loud, rolling laugh while leaning over with his hands on his knees as if you’ve told the best joke he’s ever heard.

“Oh, angel!” He exclaims as he straightens up, clapping his hands amusedly. “That’s good, really good. You’re so funny, baby, it’s one of the things I love most about you. You’ve always made me laugh.”

For a few seconds, he looks at you so tenderly that he looks like your Chan again; the Chan you fell in love with, the Chan you wish you had realised was a trick from the start. It makes sense that he always called you naïve when he knows from experience how easy it is to fool you.

“You’re mine now, ‘till death do us part and all that. Sorry I don’t have a ring for you, I’ve never been one for accessories.” He lifts his bare hands to wiggle them at you.

It’s only now that you realise he isn’t wearing a single piece of jewellery, something you thought wasn’t possible for your Chan. His clothes aren’t baggy and hiding his form, and hair no longer shaggy and in his eyes. He’s wearing blue jeans like usual, but these ones are straight legged and show off his thick thighs and ass; his plain white fitted t-shirt is tucked into his jeans neatly, showcasing his slim waist and strong upper body; with his hair neatly styled back in a casual, yet neat, manner. You’ve never seen him like this; he looks older this way, less playful.

It's another reminder that he’s not your Chan. He never truly was.

“I wish it didn’t come to this; you know?” He comments while walking over to sit on the edge of the bed by your waist and brush the back of his fingers over your cheek, entirely ignoring the way you flinch away from this touch, even if it is painfully tender. “You’re so beautiful; I’ve wanted you from the moment I first laid eyes on you, even if you never saw me.” He sighs dramatically and gets up to stand beside the bed. “Even back then you looked anywhere but me. It’s funny though,” he muses, pacing a little as his lips start to lift and bring back that manic smile he earlier wore.

It scares the shit out of you.

“You never once questioned your bad luck,” he quotes your own words with a mocking tone, trying not to laugh as he does so. “Or how it only appeared once I came into your life. You really are fucking naïve, baby.”

“What did you do?” You whisper, horrified at the realisation that Chan had been the reason that all of your relationships have failed.

Now that you think about it, he had always warned you away from them all for some reason; some kind of claim of a bad feeling, a rumour, seeing them kissing another woman. You never questioned how he always had something to say about every single man you showed interest in, or seemed to know things he shouldn’t really know. You put too much trust in the man from day one and now it’s come back to bite you in the ass.

“Whatever I needed to. It was all so easy too, like you wanted a reason to leave them all. I really thought it was because you wanted me,” he laughs darkly and pins an equally as dark look on you as his smile drops. “And then Kyle came along. Fucking Kyle. Perfect Kyle with his clean record and respect and giant, squishy heart. Well, it’s extra squishy now I pushed him off the road,” he laughs, eyes lighting with twisted delight.

“No,” you choke out. “You- no- you didn’t- tell me you didn’t do that to him, Chan,” you plead desperately.

Chan laughs and walks over to lean over you again, his left hand braced against the headboard and the other playing with the strands of your hair on the pillow beside your head. “If only you had believed me. If you hadn’t let him talk to you that day; if you had just kicked him out and come right to me like you were supposed to, it would’ve never happened, angel. You had me right there waiting for you and you picked that asshole and now guess what?” He looks at you with a bright, manic smile, eyes wide and shining with mirth you wish doesn’t exist. “He’s never fucking waking up, baby!” He beams, looking so proud of himself. “I made sure of that!”

You feel sick to your stomach.

It must show on your face because Chan’s own falls and he frowns at you. “Don’t look at me like that. This isn’t my fault.” He scoffs and backs up from the bed as that terrifyingly haunting look returns to his features. “I didn’t think I’d have to go this far; I thought you’d accept all those rumours and evidence I spent so much time, money, and effort planting. I bribed and blackmailed so many people the past months. Got the asshole fucking convicted and you still refuse to pick me.”

Chan sighs heavily, as if it really does pain him, before he pivots and walks to the door to open it, though he turns just enough to look back at you.

“I can’t tell if you’re too smart to believe all that or fucking stupid to still want to be by his side after all the accusations. Maybe he did brainwash your naïve little self.”

He stares at you for an unnervingly long moment as if he’s trying to figure you out and wondering what exactly Kyle did to earn your loyalty, and how exactly he can mimic it to make you his.

“Oh well,” he decides with a shrug, making you jolt at his sudden voice. “Not that it matters anymore because I’m not letting you leave here. If you’re not going to be mine on your own terms, we’re doing it my way.”

He closes the door after him, and you break with the sound of the lock clicking into place.

Tears roll down your cheeks and temples, soaking the soft pillow under your head as sobs tear from your chest. You keep tugging at the binds holding you down, yet they don’t budge.

You’re stuck here.

Even if you somehow escape your binds, there are bars on the window and a lock securing the thick wooden door.

You’re stuck here. For good.

Forever.

Stuck with the man you had trusted to look after you, to be by your side for a long time. You just never expected it to be like this. You as his prisoner; his little plaything to do with as he pleases until he gets bored of you and then… you don’t even want to think about it.

The sun slowly rises higher and higher into the sky and finally, you stop pulling at your binds, stop crying; out of energy and tears with your whole body hurting, yet nothing in comparison to the pain in your heart where it’s stomped into the wooden floorboards and covered in Chan’s footprints.

You dread the moment he returns. Dread having to live your life like this.

But you know you don’t have a choice. You’re his now, to do with as he pleases. You no longer have a choice in how your life goes.

The click of the lock disengaging sends fear racing through your tired body, adrenaline pumping, yet there’s still nothing you can do as Chan steps into the room with a tray in his hands and a smile on his face.

“Hi baby, it’s time for food! I made your favourite.”

As you watch him approach wearing that same cute smile that first drew you to him, all you can do is curse yourself for being so fucking naïve.

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autonomousroboticorganism · 1 day ago

Text

period madness (TF Prime)

featuring - Optimus Prime x F!Reader, Bumblebee x F!Reader, Smokescreen x F!Reader, Knock Out x F!Reader, Soundwave x F!Reader, Shockwave x F!Reader, Wheeljack x F!Reader

summary - your Cybertronian partner finds out just what a human woman's period entails.

warnings - none

a/n - Knock Out's takes place when he defects to the Autobots. also, don't fight me, these are based on my experiences and what helps me.

OPTIMUS PRIME - cramps

While he may not fully understand what's going on and what's happening to your body, he is still extremely attentive and supportive. He is there to provide any comfort you need, and will not hesitate to take one of the other humans out to a convenience store if you need anything. He knows when it's that time of the month because he'll walk into base after another mission and see you laying face-down on the couch.

"Are you okay, (Name)?"

An unintelligible grumble from you was the only response, before Miko spoke for you, "Her cramps are bad this month. Really bad."

Optimus looked back at your figure, then reached over the railing to carefully lift you into one of his servos, ever the gentle giant. If there was one thing he did know during this time, it was that you were somewhat appeased by warmth.

"How was the mission?" You finally looked up at him, eyes glassy with tears from the pain.

"I shall tell you all about it when you are warm and comfortable," the Prime replied, taking you to his room in the base and laying on his berth. He lay you on top of him, right over his spark where it was warmest. "Is this better?"

"Mhmm, much," you sighed in relief and satisfaction, curling up on his warm chassis. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he smiled, happy that your pain was eased, if only slightly. "Today was quiet, no sign of Decepticon activity. We found an empty Energon mine that had been stripped entirely of its contents."

"Aw, man," you empathised, "I hope you guys find some soon. But I welcome a quiet mission, as opposed to you going out and getting hurt."

It warmed his spark to know that even while you were in pain, you still worried about him getting hurt. He knew you cared very much for him and the team, but he was unaware it was to this extent. He carried on with his story, explaining how they had found something more disturbing than an Energon mine filled with cons. You listened intently despite being overwhelmed by pain in your uterus, happy to be distracted by one of his tales. And it always helped that you liked to listen to his deep voice, because it was soothing to hear.

BUMBLEBEE - emotional

Bumblebee knows a bit more than Optimus, but less than he feels he needs to. So a few days before your period, when you exhibit the warning signs, he asks Miko - with Raf as translator - to help him with research on the topic so he's better prepared to help you. He doesn't want to let you know he does this, but you know and you think it's very cute. And sweet.

He knows when you have it, because on your first day you storm into base looking for him and you cling to him like a little koala. He has no complaints of course, until you end up crying into his arm.

Immediately he's concerned, his little beeps translating in your mind to 'are you okay?' Apart from Raf, you were the only human who could understand what he was saying. Neither of you knew why, but it was so convenient and a happy coincidence that you never questioned it.

"Today I saw a duck," you sobbed, "And you know, it reminded me that Jasper doesn't even have ducks because we don't have any lakes and..."

You rambled on and on, tearfully so, while Bumblebee shot Smokescreen a confused look. Your guardian shrugged.

"She's been emotional all day."

The scout turned his attention back on you and held you up, whirring and beeping in concern. You stopped whatever story you had launched into afterwards and looked at him, before your eyes lit up.

"Ice cream? That sounds great!"

Bumblebee beeped and whirred again, telling Smokescreen where you two were going before transforming and driving off with you. He played some of your favourite music, and eventually you calmed down enough to look at birds and not burst into tears.

Once you had your ice cream, he took you on a nice, long scenic drive. The long way back to the base. You relaxed in his passenger seat, happily eating your cold treat.

"Thanks, Bee," you smiled, "I can always count on you."

The scout beeped back that you're very welcome and he'd do anything for you. And he mentally thanked Raf and Miko for telling him that ice cream might be a good idea for mood swings.

SMOKESCREEN - cravings

The newbie is not as great with human beings as he'd like to be. He'd had to learn a lot since coming to earth, and one of those things was to navigate a relationship with a human being. One that was both his girlfriend and his charge. So throw periods into the mix and you have...a very very confused Autobot. He knows absolutely nothing about periods, stemming from his lack of knowledge about the human anatomy.

"So...why don't human guys bleed?"

"SMOKESCREEN!" You protest with a burning face. "You can't just ask that!"

"I...thought it was a valid question?"

You sighed, "Men don't menstruate because they don't have to have babies." At his clueless expression, you added, "They don't have to give life to what you call sparklings."

"Ohhhh..."

He still didn't understand. Nonetheless, he was eager to help. Anything you asked of him, he tripped over himself in his rush to do it. Anything you wanted or needed, he found a way to get for you. Hugs and kisses? Of course! Cuddles? He would never say no to that. He had grown so fond of and attached to you that he was even clingier than you were on your period. But you thought it was sweet.

"So it hurts...here?" The giant mech prodded your uterus, gently.

"Mhm," you nodded, devouring a slab of chocolate Jack had given to Smokescreen to give to you. "Hey, don't poke me!" You smacked his servo away.

"Sorry," his faceplates burned in embarrassment.

He watches you happily munch on your chocolate, amused that such a small thing could appease you when just moments ago you had been screaming at Ratchet for not knowing about female human anatomy.

KNOCK OUT - body pain

Knock Out knew humans were fragile. He's used that against the Autobots multiple times when he was a Decepticon. But now that he's become an Autobot, he has to be extra careful around you, Jack, Miko, Raf, June and Fowler. Especially you. But it seemed that every month you would go into a state where your body hurt for no reason at all, and it wasn't until June explained to Knock Out what you were experiencing that he finally understood.

"(Name)! Are you okay?!" The medic panicked, rushing to your side the moment he heard a pained whimper come from you.

You were trying to roll over on the couch, but sharp pain erupted in your lower back causing you to let out that sound. You looked up at your concerned boyfriend, pretty optics putting you at ease.

"Mhm, just really sore."

Knock Out looked at June in desperation, and the older woman laughed at the fact that he had once kidnapped her and forced her to play a crueler version of hide-and-seek, but now he was desperately seeking her medical advice.

"I'll get some painkillers and water that you can give her," the nurse stood to go retrieve those items.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked you in the meantime. Knock Out hated feeling useless, helpless, which was a side effect of being criticised so often.

"Pick me up?" You suggested.

The bot was more than happy to oblige, lifting you onto his servo with surprising gentleness. You happily laid on your back on the warm metal, sighing contentedly until your head started to hurt.

"Maybe also poke me in the head?"

"What?! I could kill you!"

"That's kind of the idea. My head is already doing that."

"I will not terminate the one good thing I've managed to earn, thank you very much," he insisted, cooling his free servo and pressing a non-lethal part of it to your temple. "That better?"

The pain in your skull receded, and your body relaxed, "Oh, much better. Thank you, Knock Out."

The bot beamed at the grateful response, "You're very welcome!"

June returned with the painkillers and a bottle of water, which Knock Out carefully handed to you with the servo he had used to ease your headache. He watched you intently as you took the medication, before lying back down on his palm.

"Now just hold me."

The former con eagerly obeyed that command, even taking you to his assigned room in the base and laying with you on top of him on his berth. He placed a servo over your smaller frame, practically blanketing you with it. He further eased your pain by slowly running it up and down your back, gently and affectionately caressing you. The mad doctor had truly changed for the better.

SOUNDWAVE - nausea

Soundwave had taken it upon himself to learn about humans when he'd first taken you. So he knew very well what the warning signs of anger, hunger and cramping meant. He was well-equipped to help you, because this bot is hardly ever ill-equipped for anything. He searches the human internet for things he can do to help ease your pain and make this uncomfortable period of time more bearable for you. So you usually find stuff you need and crave during your period already laid out on his berth when the first day comes.

The Decepticon walked into his berth one of those days to see you happily munching away on the snacks he'd gotten Laserbeak to acquire for you. Speaking of the little bird, you were laying atop one of its wings, and Soundwave always liked to see how comfortable you were around it.

But then a weird look came over your face, and you turned a little sickly. The bot worried that the snacks had done something to you, but you just set them down and curled up, breathing in and out deeply. Soundwave was by your side in a second, touching your shoulder in concern.

"I'm-I'm fine," you reassured him. "Sometimes I just get nauseous. And sometimes it's the snacks that I like that cause it. I can't explain it."

The silent Cybertronian nodded to say he understood, before scooping up into one servo and soothingly rubbing your back with the other. Then he handed you a sugary drink he'd also obtained for you, his screen showing you research saying that something sweet and fizzy might help.

You smiled at him and took the drink, taking a few sips and finding that he was right, "Thank you, Soundwave. I can always rely on you."

His screen showed something else now, a bright red heart. Your cheeks heated up, and your smile became flustered at the gesture. Despite being committed to not speaking at all, he could be expressive and sweet when he wanted to be. His actions always told you more than his screen did, though.

SHOCKWAVE - bodily insecurity/bloating

Like Knock Out and Ratchet, Shockwave is scientifically and biologically knowledgable. He's an expert in all things physical and mental. Unfortunately, he spent so much time on a dead Cybertron that he was completely helpless when he first got attached to you on earth. Fortunately, he was a quick learner and very studious. Meaning he found out pretty quickly what he was meant to do during a time like this. Though sometimes, you still confused him.

Like now, when he walked into the room to see you sitting in front of something that mirrored your reflection. You were frowning and poking your midsection, eyes becoming glassy and bottom lip trembling.

"What has happened?" The intimidating Decepticon approached. "Are you hurt?"

"No," you wailed. "I'm getting fatter!"

"..."

Shockwave was, well, shocked. He never thought once that you were a displeasing weight or size, and he would never mind or care if you were picking up weight. But in this case, it was not true.

"Little one, that is a most illogical statement," he picked you up with his one servo. "You are not looking any different."

"Then explain this!" You cried, poking your stomach again.

Once more, Shockwave failed to see the issue, "You are perfect, my little human. There is nothing wrong with you."

"You're just saying that!"

"Have you ever known me to lie?"

"No..."

"Then cease your worrying," he reassured you. "I understand that on your...period, as you humans call it, you may feel bloated. But that does not mean you have increased in size. It is normal, and it will go away."

That was...oddly comforting.

"Thank you, Shockwave. That means a lot coming from you."

"Good. Now stop crying, little one. I have something to show you."

WHEELJACK - anger/frustration

Wheeljack was generally a lot more sensitive and considerate towards you than anyone else on base, but that doesn't mean that he was perfect. There were times when he didn't mean to offend you or incite your fury, but his actions or words that just tumbled out of his mouth left you shaking. He wasn't aware of human periods until Miko told him about them when you'd first started dating him, but he still continued to piss you off.

"WILL YOU STOP FOR ONE SECOND!" You screamed at the Wrecker one day while you were lounging in front of the TV while watching Jack and Raf play video games.

Wheeljack and Bulkhead were lobbing a giant ball of metal around, as they tended to do every other week, and Bumblebee and Smokescreen had been tempted to join. They promptly changed their minds at the sound of your yell and the glare on your face.

"Sweetheart, we're just playing around," Wheeljack responded calmly, shrugging your attitude off. Bulkhead got nervous, though.

"Well could you go play somewhere else?!" You snarled, rubbing your temples. "You're making my headache even worse!" You were usually irritable on your period, so Wheeljack took this as a sign.

He sighed, "Would you stop being such a buzzkill?"

Dead silence. Everyone beside Wheeljack froze up, knowing that was exactly the wrong thing to say to you at this time. Your eyes narrowed, and you stood up so fast your head spun.

"Well if I'm a buzzkill then I'll just leave!" You spat, storming down the stairs while trying not to burst into tears. Both angry and sad.

"Sweetheart, I didn't mean that," the bot immediately regretted his words, spotting your glassy eyes. "Come here."

"Go away!"

He sighed and grabbed you before you could leave the base, "Where are you going to go? There's nothing but dirt outside this base, sweetheart."

"I'd rather walk across the desert than spend more time arguing with you," you grumbled.

"Alright, alright," he relented. "I'm sorry. Can I make it up to you? We'll go sit in my berthroom and I'll project your favourite movie onto the wall."

"...Fine."

Wheeljack was an idiot, and impulsive, but he sure knew how to charm his way back into your good books. He cuddled you and rubbed your uterus for you, getting help from Miko to get you snacks that would keep your temper at bay.

#transformers #transformers x reader #tfp #tf prime #transformers prime #knock out x reader #smokescreen x reader #bumblebee x reader #wheeljack x reader #soundwave x reader #shockwave x reader #optimus prime x reader #tf prime x reader #transformers prime x reader #tfp x reader

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lovecla · 2 days ago

Text

FAKE IT ‘TILL YOU MAKE IT, phase one:

➴ chapter warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 2.1k

💌 from me to you: i heard it’s thanksgiving in the us so happy thanksgiving to all of you!! thank u so much for all the love in part one, but here’s where the fun really begins. also, thank u for the 500 reblogs <3 i love u all so much and i’m thankful for all of u. 🤍

𖧷

emmaroberts

Newark, New Jersey

liked by nicohischier, dawson1417, ninahischier and 603 others

emmaroberts night out :)

View all 30 comments

user1 it’s so funny to me how the hischiers always like emma’s pics like they love her 😭

miaturner YOURE SO FINE HELP HELP HELP CALL THE COPS

emmaroberts miaturner mia you’re mentally challenged but i love you a lot

user2 it’s not even been five minutes since she’s posted and nico’s already in the likes

user3 user2 and so is nina so???? your point??

tmeier96 Why was I not invited 😢

emmaroberts tmeier96 next time we’ll call you promise

user4 ok. have u guys seen nico’s story

user5 user4 omg yes do you think they were dining together

user6 user5 user4 it wouldn’t be THAT much of a surprise bc they’ve been friends for AGES

user4 user6 you’re right i guess 🤷‍♂️

𖧷

nicohischier and emmaroberts added a new story!

𖧷

THE FLORAL perfume you had chosen for the night was bothering you, yet you had no one to blame but that one lady at Sephora who offered you a huge deal and made you buy it even if you didn’t like it that much.

Realistically speaking, you knew that the perfume wasn’t really the issue here. You were nervous about this whole fake-dating thing, even if you’d been your idea to begin with.

Lying and faking things weren’t really your deal. As a child, you’d always get in trouble because you could never lie properly. Growing up, you also faced your own problems because you can’t lie.

But you really want to help Nico.

Tonight’s Luke’s 21st birthday, and you had been invited to his little birthday dinner, a small celebration with people from his team and close friends, which included you. Although, you’re going more as a plus one than a friend, but Luke doesn’t need to know that.

A knock on your bedroom door has you turning your head around, facing Nico as he leans on the door frame and crosses his arms in front of you.

“You look nice,” he compliments you, and you smile, putting your arms behind you.

“Thanks. So do you.”

“So,” he claps his hands, sighing. “Are we ready? What’s the game plan for today?”

You take a deep breath, mentally repeating the “plan” you’ve been working on.

“Okay, this is what we’re going to do tonight, and Nico, you have to take this really seriously or else—”

“You sound really scary right now—”

“Nico.”

“Okay,” he pouts. “Go ahead.”

“All of your teammates are going to be there tonight and if anyone is going to help us fool Nora Ellis, it’s them,” you walk around the room, moving your hands as you explain your thoughts. “If we make ‘em believe that we are very much in love and together, then we’ll be safe.”

“That will be kind of hard,” he shrugs. “We’ve been friends for a while and we’re close but… I don’t know.”

“Nico,” you step closer, standing in front of him. “For this lie to work, you have to believe it. We have to believe it. It’s the only way we’ll be able to make this work.”

He whistles. “You know a lot for someone who can’t lie to save her life and started crying when I asked you if you had turned my jerseys pink when you decided that washing them with Nina’s pink shirt was a good idea.”

You roll your eyes and bite your lips, trying to hide your smile. “I just read tons of books.”

“When was the last time you—”

“This isn’t relevant right now!” you point your finger at him. “What’s relevant is: we need to make your teammates believe we’re together and in love. Think you can make it?”

Nico smirks, poking your cheek with his finger.

“When have I ever backed out of a challenge?”

“You’ve been around Jack for too much time, you’re getting too cocky,” you joke, crossing your arms. “So, the second part of your plan: PDA, pet names and touching.”

“Go on, little genius.”

“Lots of touching,” you say, feeling your cheeks get warm as you emphasize the word lots, making you want to look elsewhere. You don’t. “Lots of PDA and I guess we can squeeze some pet names in there too.”

“What?” he chuckles. “Want me to call you baby? Sweetheart?”

You spend the next five seconds forcing your face to remain red-less and your heart to stop beating so fucking fast— you were afraid Nico might hear it, considering how close you were and how fast it was going.

Gulping, you continue. “I don’t want anything,” you mumble. “I just think it’ll work.”

“Then we’re fine,” he claps again, moving his hair around. “Do we need to discuss something else?”

You look at the watch on your wrist and click your tongue.

“We don’t have time, we have to leave now,” you walk towards your bed and grab your purse, your phone and your wallet. “We can talk more in the car.”

“Lead the way, baby.”

Oh God, you think as you hear Nico’s laugh and comments about how fun this is all going to be, what have I done?

𖧷

“OKAY, AND remember, we started dating a month ago but we kept it super lowkey,” you remind Nico as you walk by his side towards the restaurant Luke chose for the night. “I hate lobster, you hate pop music.”

“I don’t hate it—”

“Strongly dislike,” you smile, before looking down, where Nico had just slipped his hand and intertwined both of your hands together.

Right. You’re dating.

Entering the fancy place, you felt Nico’s body close to yours, and you tried your hardest to keep your cool. You were used to being close to him but not in this way, not like this—

“Hischier!” Jack shouts across the room and you almost want to knock him out with your own two hands for yelling like this and drawing everyone’s attention to you and Nico. “And… Emma?”

It was almost comical how grown men looked interested in your hands together, and how many smiles you could see directed at both of you. Your grip on Nico’s hand tightened without you even realizing it did, and you smiled politely at Luke and the rest of the Devils.

Nico let go of your hand for a second before shaking hands with Luke, wishing him a happy birthday like an old grandpa.

“Hey, Emma, thanks for coming.” Luke hugs you briefly, barely touching you, and you grin.

“Happy birthday, Lukey.”

“Emma!” Mia, one of your best friends, shouts and gets up, running to you. She hugs you tightly, and you hug her back, happy to see her again after weeks. “I didn’t know you were coming! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I forgot,” you lie, feeling your cheeks getting warm. Mia looks at you like a human lie detector and you can tell she sees right through your bullshit but, happily, she doesn’t say anything else. “Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. Ella’s here, too.”

You look around and try to find Ella, smiling when you see her sitting beside Luke, quietly speaking to one of the wives sitting beside her.

“I’ll talk to her later.” You reply.

You and Nico spend the next five minutes greeting the other people there, the rest of the players and some of the girlfriends before finally sitting down by Jack’s side— per his request, you must say. Nico’s hands immediately found yours as you placed them on top of the table, before grabbing the menu and smiling at you, brown eyes full of mischief.

“What do you want to eat, baby?”

Before you could even think of what to say, Jack’s loud and annoying laugh filled the table. “I fucking knew it! Hamilton, you owe me a hundred bucks!”

“Oh, man,” Hamilton sighs as he picks up his phone. “Couldn’t you guys keep hiding your relationship for a little bit more?”

“W-What do you mean?” you ask, looking at him before looking at Jack again.

“Dougie and I made a bet: if you made your relationship public by the end of the year, I’d win,” Jack starts, and you can tell how proud he is. “But if you didn’t, he’d win. Thankfully, I know my man here always gets my back.” He cheers, slapping Nico’s shoulder.

“You’re such a fucking child, Hughes.” Mia hisses before looking at you, clearly asking you why you hadn’t told her before.

“Shut up, princess. Now,” he grins. “My money, Dougie.”

You stare at them in disbelief, while Nico puts on his best performance and squeezes your hands together, smiling like he had just been caught eating snacks before lunch.

“Sorry, guys. We were just waiting for the right time,” he explains, and he sounds so natural you have to remind yourself to keep your surprise hidden. “Didn’t want to be like you and rush things.”

“Oh, screw you,” Jack laughs. “We all knew. You’re not slick.”

They kept talking while you tried to hide the fact that the things they were saying made no sense. Because you and Nico have never been close, romantically speaking. Sure, you’re friends, best friends if you want to go that way, but dating?

And, okay, you’re used to people thinking you’re together, because apparently a guy and a girl can’t be friends anymore, but this? The fact that they were sure of your “relationship” with Nico, sure enough to bet? This is surreal.

“Did you choose already?” Nico whispers to you, and you look at him with wide eyes. You don’t answer, trying to find the right things to say so you don’t screw up everything. “Baby? Are you okay?”

You nod, blinking a few times before staring at the menu in Nico’s hand again. “Yeah,” you whisper. “I think I’ll get the Caesar Burger, please.”

“Great choice.” He smiles at you, before telling your orders to the waiter.

You thought that your biggest concern here would be Nico, but in reality, it’s going to be you. You can’t really deal with too much attention on you, that’s why you’ve been keeping yourself in the shadows for this long— Hockey players can be loud and invasive sometimes, and you’d rather hang out with their kids or parents, because they won’t ask questions you don’t want to answer.

“So,” Timo starts, sipping on his beer and resting his chin on his hands, looking like a goddamn school girl. “What made you decide it was finally time? Sie ist ein hübsches Mädchen, Nico.”

Nico looks at you, smiling. “Ja, ist sie,” he nods, and even if you have no idea of what they’re talking about, you smile too, because Nico’s smile makes you want to smile. “And, I don’t know, man. If you had a girl who looked like this,” he points at you with his head. “Would you want to hide her?”

“Nico, he won’t ever get a girl like Emma,” Dougie laughs before getting shoved by Timo. “Ouch.”

“Well, I think it’s nice you guys are finally out.” Palat’s wife says, making you smile and rest your head on Nico’s shoulder.

“Thanks,” you say, sweetening your voice to the max. “I think we were just trying to understand where we stood before, y’know, letting everyone know.”

“How did the Hischiers take it?” Mia asks, looking extra curious. “I bet Nina was happy.” Like I would’ve been if you had told me sooner, she mouths, making you cringe. Sorry, you mouth back.

“They took it well,” you lie through your teeth, squeezing Nico’s arm more than you probably should. “And Nina is just glad her sister-in-law isn’t a Hockey obsessed girl.”

People laugh and you can’t help but feel you had just gotten your approval from Nico's friends.

Nico changes the topic of the conversation, moving back to Luke, the star of the night, and you’re glad for it. You eat side by side with him, you laugh at his jokes, you’re constantly touching him, as he’s constantly touching you.

“We should go out some time,” Mia says, casually, like she doesn’t mean anything by it. “Y’know, catch up.”

“Like anyone would willingly choose to spend a day with you.” Jack bickers, and Mia rolls her eyes at him.

“Go fuck yourself, Hughes.”

“Hey, guys,” Luke yells from the other corner of the table. “You promised you’d be nice to each other today. It’s my birthday.”

“I said no such thing—”

“You can’t even hear what we’re saying—” They both say at the same time.

“Jack and Mia. Shut. Up.” Luke says and they both pout while they shut up.

“It’s so funny because they’re much more alike than they think.” You whisper to Nico, smiling as he places his hand on your thigh, squeezing it lightly.

“They sure are, baby.”

It all seems so… natural. It’s weird and unsettling, but you’re fine with it as long as it helps people buy your lie. Also, the feeling of Nico’s heavy hand on your thigh isn’t really unpleasant.

The rest of the evening flies by and when you notice, it’s time for you to leave. You almost don’t want to, for the first time, happy to spend time with the players.

“D’you think they bought it?” You ask when you’re away from the guys and the restaurant. Your hands are still together but none of you notice it.

“I think they did,” he chuckles. “Actually, it was a lot easier than I was expecting.”

None of you address the fact that they already thought you were dating, though.

“Yeah,” you whisper, looking at your heels. “Phase one is complete, then.”

“I like how seriously you’re taking this,” he says, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk to look down at you, dimples on display for the whole world to see. Yet, you were the only one watching them right now. “Thank you. Truly.”

You smile, standing on the tip of your toes and giving him a light, brief kiss on the cheek, as you’re used to doing.

“You’re welcome.”

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mylittlepimp · 2 days ago

Text

(okay I had more thoughts)

Emperor Geta found his brother's tears to be weakness. She's his wife! Why the hell does his brother need her? He seeks the company of men! If his brother wanted a wife, Geta would've gotten him one!

Emperor Caracalla continues to cry and beg. No one else was nice to him the way that she is! No one saw him the way that she did! She's the only one that he feels can help him!

She can't take the tears anymore. She runs over to Emperor Caracalla, wrapping her arms around him, and shushing him while she rocks him back and forth.

Emperor Geta feels disgusted by this, he grabs her by the wrist pulling them apart.

Emperor Caracalla screams in protest as he tries to grab her hand and keep her.

She tries grabbing Emperor Caracalla's hand in return, but Emperor Geta yanks her away.

Emperor Geta decides to change how he treats her. At night he chains her to his bed, only by her wrist or ankle... Nothing more. As cruel as he's known to be, he does want her comfortable.

She's miserable. Sulking on the floor next to the bed. Being forced to listen to Emperor Caracalla cry at night or stumble around drunk. She wants to help him, but she can't.

In public Emperor Geta has added to her jewelry. A chain on her hand and wrist. He doesn't keep her physically confined to him, but he does make a display that she's only his. Trying his best to be... Somewhat discreet without drawing too much attention.

(visual representation of what I had in mind)

Of course it's only made from the finest gold. It matches every outfit he puts on her.

In public is the only time that she can see Emperor Caracalla. But they don't speak or interact together. They only exchange glances, small smiles, or looks. Like a silent conversation only they understand.

Emperor Caracalla looks miserable. Just as she feared. He tries replacing her every night with a different woman, but they aren't her.

Emperor Geta gets angry with his brother, finding his misery a distraction. Especially during their war plans and their gladiator games.

It finally gets to a point that Emperor Geta confronts his brother in a big argument. Wondering why he can't just get over her? Why can't he just move on? That wasn't Caracalla's wife he stole. In fact he didn't steal her at all! She's always been Geta's wife!

Emperor Caracalla explains in tears and a shaky voice, that it wasn't what Geta thinks! It wasn't about sex, he never touched Geta's wife that way!

Emperor Geta looks at his brother confused. Assuming the worst that Caracalla, had infected Geta's wife with his disease this entire time.

But it wasn't about sex.

While Emperor Geta was seeking the comfort of other people at night. Geta would leave his wife alone. That's when she came across Emperor Caracalla, crying to his monkey about how horrible Geta was to him.

She sat down next to Caracalla, gently placing her hand on his shoulder, and he pulled away from her out of fear. She didn't move or say anything. She just sat there next to him.

Emperor Caracalla stared at her for several minutes. He wasn't sure what to think or what to say. Eventually he offered her a grape.

She smiled at Emperor Caracalla's offer, even giggling a little.

Emperor Caracalla liked that. It made him smile in return. He decided to tell her silly stories, even acting out some of the scenes himself. Just to make her giggle.

She soon decided to add to Caracalla's stories. Doing her best to act out the scenes as well.

Emperor Caracalla started to like her. Especially since she was nothing like his brother and his other wives.

She made Emperor Caracalla comfortable, safe, and seen.

That's how she ended up in his quarters every night listening to him, comforting him, and making him feel seen.

When Emperor Geta walked into his brother's quarters and saw him with Geta's wife. That's why had assumed Caracalla poisoned Geta's wife.

But that wasn't the case.

Emperor Geta doesn't change his mind on keeping his brother away from Geta's wife. But now he knows what really happened.

She watches from around the corner, silently hoping that Emperor Geta will change his mind.

(y'all keep reacting to this and I'll end up adding more again! Haha)

It was meant to be a marriage of politics, and instead she finds herself as the caregiver. Surrogate mother most days.

Emperor Caracalla is sweet. Often child like. Innocent. But easily manipulated.

Emperor Geta is not as sweet or innocent. He's often angry. Hungry. Fearsome.

Both are troubled and unloved. Both somehow lean on her, and only her for their needs.

Emperor Geta loves to show her off during the day. Parade her around on his arm, dress her in the finest gold accessories and beautiful fabrics that compliment her skin. She's his after all. His wife.

But by night.

Emperor Caracalla seeks her comfort. To be held by her, while he mumbles on and on about how mean Geta is to him. She'll hold Caracalla's head in her lap, run her fingers through his hair, and she'll listen to him.

These routines have been going on for years.

Until Emperor Geta finds out that is.

Emperor Geta shouts at his brother, screaming at him like a rabid hound to stay away from his wife!

Emperor Caracalla is reduced to tears, begging on his knees to stay around her. He doesn't want to lose his only lifeline to the care, the love, and the longing he so desperately desires.

Emperor Geta throws his cup of wine at his brother. He won't hear of it. His brother's tears mean nothing to him. His begging pointless. She's his wife and he does not share with anyone!

(I don't know where that came from but I had to write it down)

#my thoughts #emporer caracalla #emperor geta #gladiator 2 #gladiator ii #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x female reader #emperor caracalla x reader #emperor Caracalla x female reader

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lightlycareless · 2 days ago

Note

I was reading your scorned ex husband stories and they made me so sad(especially the second one) then I started thinking about the twin au and like what if the twins parent trap them in a different divorced au? Lol. Naoya is still a dick obviously for splitting up twins(seriously who would do that??) but maybe not completely irredeemable for Y/N to forgive him 🥺 Hehe this is just something silly I thought up and wanted to share

Hellooooooo

Heheh this got me watching the movie again, right in the nostalgia. It had been so long since I last saw it that I actually didn't remember most of it, but I do think however: how the hell did they think that was a good idea 🤣 gee, talk about parent of the year.

Anyways, some liberties were taken to make the story work, though the premise is essentially the same.

Also, these are the works anon is referring to :) Ex-husband 1 & Ex-husband 2. Now onto the warnings:

Warnings: none major. Naoya is an a_hole, as always. Naomi and Naori are adorable, but poor kids seriously :'(.

Happy reading!!

If Naoya does this, you effectively hate him from that point forward.

It is non-negotiable, you never want to see him ever again, especially after the cruel words he used to justify the separation of his children:

“I only ever cared about Naori anyways.”

You made it your life-long purpose to keep Naomi from someone as despicable as her father—though it hurt you to do so, for it also meant you’d be away from your beloved son; just 2 years into his life… you barely got to make any memories with him before he was stripped away from your arms.

But such was the divorce agreement: the two would keep one child, and out of their lives.

Naoya remains in Kyoto with his son at the Zen’in estate, while you move back to Tokyo, close to your family but distant enough to have your own apartment. Just the two of you, the little home you always wanted.

In an unexpected turn of events, Naomi and Naori would go on completely unaware of each other until enrolling in the same elementary school.

It was almost undetectable at the beginning since Naomi now had your last name—but once teachers and students alike began to realize their physical similarities, it became impossible to ignore.

“No… we don’t look alike.” Naori would quietly complain. Out of the two, he was the least enthusiastic about this advancement, doing his best to avoid the limelight due to his reserved nature.

However, that wouldn’t mean anything to Naomi: ever the bubble one, she was nothing but to have a new best friend that looked just like her!

“We’re almost like twins!” she gasped—same hair color, eyes, height… how could they not? “I’ve always wanted a baby brother too.”

“Well, I don’t! And I could be older too, you know? Besides, why would I want a sister that’s weak and ugly…?”

Intended to hurt her, Naomi only laughed at his words, for it would take much more than that to bring her down—one could even say that the two were reflections of their respective parents in that matter: the only contrast between the two, as a matter of fact.

“That’s not true!” she happily refuted, taking hold of his hand and heading to the playground. “Now, come on! I want to go on the swings, and I need someone to push me!”

Though Naori was greatly unwilling at first, he’d soon warm up to her, mainly because she was part of the few, if not the only, kid that didn’t bother him because of his shyness; always rushing to the rescue whenever bullies began to swarm him, as well as reassure him there was nothing wrong with being the way he was.

And if that wasn’t enough, the food Naomi began to share with him (courtesy of you, after much insistence from her part) effectively validated their friendship.

“When will you ever bring him over?” you tease, it’s the happiest you’d ever seen your daughter! And for that, you couldn’t help but feel glad and obligated to repay the favor.

“I don’t know, mama. Nori-kun tells me his papa can be quite strict.”

You chuckle.

“Well, I’m sure I can convince him next time the parents have a meeting at school.”

“His papa doesn’t go to school.” Naomi frowns, her words making you sad for the poor child. “Says he’s too busy.”

“Oh, that’s awful. Well, what about the mama?”

“He doesn’t have one.”

Your heart longs to comfort him.

If they only knew…

And as time went on and their friendship flourished even more, so did their interests for one another; beyond those of their favorite colors and toys, and more into… personal grounds.

Matters that had always quietly hurt Naori one way or the other since he could remember; more so since you had been nothing but sweet and kind to a figuratively unknown kid, which highlighted the fact he never had that one thing he always wished for.

What he might never have, since his father has long given up on it, considering the way he coldly changes the subject, or completely ignores it. Naori simply… doesn’t talk about it.

Until now.

“Why don’t you have a dad?” He dares to ask; it’s no secret that the one to pick him up at school is one of his father’s many subordinates, always changing, not enough to be interesting to the other parents outside of how rich (or a jerk) he must be to have employees pick up his child.

Compared to you, always spoken of fondly for the following reasons:

If it was Valentine’s Day, you’d send Naomi with a big box of candies so she could share with all the class.

Halloween was the same, even hosting small gatherings if the children wished to celebrate in a safe environment.

If it was a classmate’s birthday, you always made sure to send them a personal gift or attend their birthday party. Your gifts might’ve put some parents to shame from time to time, but it didn’t matter, you kind of grew to be some kind of celebrity thus a few always tried to be on your good side—or Naomi’s, so to speak.

Naomi’s birthday… well, some fought to be on the guest list.

In other words,you were an amazing for both kids and parents alike, enough to inspire Naori to daydream about what it would be to have a loving mother like you—to always be at the door once it was time to leave, patiently waiting for the moment your daughter would come into view and subsequently pick her up into a tight, warm hug, followed by a kiss and wide smile as you urged Naomi to tell you all about her day.

Or more importantly, wonder if you were open to adopting him.

“Oh… that—I… don’t know!” Naomi responds truthfully. “Mama never talks about him.”

“Have you asked her?”

“Once or twice, but all she says is that I should focus on my studies!

…

But I can see how sad she gets whenever I mention him.” She continues. “Mama isn’t very good at hiding “adult talk” and neither is my auntie, so I always get to hear how lonely she is when they talk about him! … and how she should try dating other people, or whatever that means, so she wouldn’t feel like that anymore.”

“I think is when you marry someone.” Naori tries to explain, Naomi scowls out of disgust.

She doesn’t like the idea of sharing her mama with someone else, grows somewhat jealous too.

Well, maybe if it was Uncle Nanami, he’s always been nice to her and her mama. Not Geto because she plans on marrying him herself.

And she supposes her papa too… but how could someone you love make you sad?

“I don’t want her marrying anyone.” Naomi shakes her head. “She’s happy with me!”

“But don’t you wonder about your dad?” he asks. “What did he look like? How did he meet your mom?”

Or how they fell in love?

Naturally. Because just as Naori, and even after you tried your hardest to distract her from it… she too longed to have a father. Someone to play with her after finishing all her homework, put her over his shoulders and let her see the world from his height, or protect her from the monsters that lived inside the closet…

There must be an answer to both of their mysteries—people don’t simply disappear.

And such, is how they assigned themselves a new mission; a task of the upmost importance, requiring all their attention and care if they wish to uncover why they only have one parent—and who was such peculiar character.

Anything that could hint such solution is a chance they’d take, however…

To Naomi, this endeavor proved quite fruitless, for any indication of your past relationship was effectively ripped from the evidence. Quite literally: thousands and thousands of pictures cut in half, neatly removing the person that accompanied her mother—whom she assumed to be her father. And that’s without mentioning your consistent disapproval of the matter. Naomi was right where she began.

This lack of advancement both frustrated her and placed more pressure onto Naori’s efforts, which shockingly, turned to be quite more than what they bargained for. Getting results neither could’ve imagined, not even in their wildest dreams…

“Naomi-chan… I’m not sure if you’re ready to see this.” Naori would caution as he placed down a large wooden box before her, filled with his findings.

“Why? Why not, Naori-kun?” she frets, surely it couldn’t be anything too outrageous.

…Could it?

Yes, it could. And it was.

Because beyond the astonishing realization that all the pictures Naori brought were in virtually perfect shape…

The fact they both recognize the people in the photo, Naomi’s mother, wearing that same bright eyed, wide smile look on her face whenever particularly excited. Happy—alongside Naori’s father, with his usual dyed hair, ear piercings, and striking eyes…

Holding two newborn babies—named Naomi and Naori such as the inscription in the back stated, alongside their birth time and date (Naomi is older, at last is known) …

Is what truly shocked them.

…

You. Naoya.

Naomi and Naori.

Mama and papa.

A family, for all intents and purposes.

What everyone around them proclaimed: siblings.

Naomi and Naori were siblings. Twins.

“Does that mean we—”

Naori nods. If it hadn’t been obvious enough by now.

Nonetheless, as thrilling as this discovery was, for it essentially made their respective dreams come true… another question arose. One that undoubtedly could not proceed unanswered.

“Why aren’t our parents together?”

Or most importantly:

“How can we get them back together?”

“But what if they don’t want to?” Naori frets.

“I told you already! Mama looks very happy wit him, and auntie says she’s very lonely too… besides, if they get back together that means we’ll finally be a happy family! And isn’t that what you wanted?”

Naori presses his lips together, nodding.

“I want a happy family too. I’ve always wanted a papa to play with!” Naomi continues.

“And a mom to hug…” Naori adds. “What do we do?”

First…

Get them together, face to face. In other words, talk. It’s how adults always preached problems got solved.

Since you had given Naomi the impression you’re not interested in anything pertaining to Naori’s dad, she had to get creative. Force you into a position where you wouldn’t be able to ignore her as you’ve done before—and one where Naoya would inevitably have to go to school too.

It had to be a convincing excuse, and since the two were children in need of dire solutions, their innocent minds led them to the most extreme resolution yet.

“I need you to punch me.” Naomi says, determined.

“Why?!” he gasps.

“Because I need to get hurt for mama to come, and if you’re the one in trouble they’ll have to call your papa, and then, the two will be here, just as we planned!”

“Can’t we do something less dangerous…?” Naori doesn’t like the idea of getting in trouble with his strict dad, as if he weren’t insufferable enough…

“No, Naori. It must be this!”

“But I don’t want to punch you…”

“Come on, we have to do it to have a family!!” she insists. “Or do you not want mama to make you food every day? To hug you too??”

He swallows.

“I do.”

“Then do it!”

And… he does. After taking a deep breath, clenching his fist and hitting Naomi in what she could only describe the weakest punch she could’ve ever anticipated. Surely, not enough to make this case convincing.

“Naori! You have to hit harder than that!”

“I—I tried!” he cries.

“No, you didn’t!” she cries back. “You didn’t even try!”

“Ye—yes I did!” Naori frowns. “It’s not my fault I’m not as strong as you!”

“Yeah, right! You’re a boy, you’re supposed to hit harder!” Naomi adds, smirking soon after an idea crosses her mind. “… Then I guess you don’t really want a mama.”

“I do want a mom…”

“No, it’s fine. I should’ve known not to trust you with something so important anyways—” she says, words that brush each and every one of Naori’s insecurities. “You’re just as weak as everyone else says…”

With a frown on his face, and a sour tightness in his chest, little Naori quickly clenched his fist and prepared himself to prove her wrong once and for all. Show that he wanted this just as much as she did—if not more.

Naomi was trying her best to get a rise out of Naori, everything necessary to motivate a genuine hit out of him and get their plan in motion—she never meant any of those words, intended to apologize after all was said and done, though she doubted it would matter once they got what they sought after.

But it was almost comical how it happened, how he miscalculated his steps, how far his hand had to travel to hit Naomi, and how he ended up doing far more than necessary: but convincingly so, in the end. Tripping over her and sending the two tumbling down, loudly hitting the ground in such a motion that had them scraping their skin, and of course, tears following suit.

“Maaaaaaa, I want my mamaaaaa.” Naomi intuitively cried, tightly holding onto the teacher as the two were sent to the infirmary.

Naori didn’t cry much for his father, he rarely did considering his prominent absence, but just one look at his teary face and trembling lip, and it was obvious whom he sought for comfort—the same one the school somehow convinced to come along and deal with this unfortunate incident.

As well as the supposed altercation that made way for all this to happen in the first place.

“No, what do you mean a fight??” You’re the first to arrive, demanding a believable explanation from the teacher. “That’s not—that doesn’t sound like my daughter!”

“I know, I thought the same… but that’s what the kids are saying.” She explains. “That Naomi-chan was inciting Naori-kun to punch her, and that she was even saying awful things to get him to do that. I don’t know what they were doing, if they were playing a game or… I don’t know; all of it is so weird—I’m sorry.”

You sigh.

“It’s fine. There’s no need to stress when it’s already happened.” You explain. “Is the parent of the child here already?”

“Should be soon, but I don’t know if he’s actually coming, Naori’s dad isn’t quite… present.”

You frown at the name.

“Naori? Wasn’t he Naomi’s best friend?”

She nods.

“It just makes everything even more unbelievable… really, what’s gotten to them?”

You hope to figure such when speaking to the poor child your daughter allegedly antagonized, after apologizing for such behavior of course. Which you’d have to deal with after returning home—Naomi… seriously, what could’ve possibly gone through her mind to incite such act? Was she being bullied? Did Naori suddenly decide he no longer wanted to be friends with her?

And why did his name appear to be so… familiar?

You’d figure it out soon enough when entering the infirmary, quickly scanning across the room for your daughter—only to freeze upon locking into Naoya’s; a much smaller, softer version of them, that is.

“Mamaaaaa!!” Naomi quickly cries when seeing you walk past the door, rushing to your side and hugging you tightly, the adrenaline of the whole succession still vivid in her mind. “Mama, it—it hurts a lot!”

Comforting her ought to be your utmost priority, but at the sight of your estranged child, the baby you were forcibly stripped away from… you couldn’t think of anything else but pinching yourself to see if this was a dream—if he was truly there, before you: flesh and bone. After so many years of distance…!

And naturally, hug him. Keep him so, so close to you and never let go; to make up for all the time you’ve spent apart and the things you never got to do because of his undeserving, cruel father…

Who stomped past the door soon after, equally freezing when seeing his estranged child, and ex-wife after 5 years of imposed silence. Startled, as if he hadn’t been the deciding factor behind it all.

Or perhaps, the reason why Naori enrolled in this school in the first place.

“Y/N.”

“Naoya.”

Looks like there’s much to catch up to.

Obviously, part 2 is needed. Essentially where Naoya will disclose more of what the hell was going on in his mind when pulling that stunt, as well as some angst. I have to. hahaha

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this little thing I wrote; I do love it when we indulge into domestic au... but not at the expense of the kids 😭😭😭 think of the children!!! lol.

Well, 0nce again, thank you so much for sending in this ask!! Now take care, and hope to see you soon!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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admirationandromantics · 2 days ago

Text

Going overboard, 2: Darkness

Second chapter out! (Yes, there'll be smut in the next one, so get ready). The time of the happenings throughout the story might be a little fucked up, so just ignore that. Hope everything's okay so far. Enjoy!

❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀--✽--❀

Ashley is sitting on the steps beside the door, but when I arrive, she quickly gets up. I look over, wondering if I should say something. I really want to talk to her, to have my best friend back. But I cannot forgive what happened. Not yet anyway. She doesn't move from her standing, waiting for some type of confirmation that talking to me is okay. I don’t want to indulge her, but I have to say something.

“Hey Ash”

“Hey.” It’s awkward, weird. I feel like a completely different person. The atmosphere is tense, and Sam is looking at each one of us, waiting for something to happen. I hear loud footsteps from behind as Chris makes his way beside me.

“Man I feel like this mountain gets bigger every time I climb it,” he states, hands resting on each side of his hips.

“Oh yeah?” I know that voice, and I stop breathing. My mind suddenly sharpening and prior coldness turning hot. I turn around to find Josh walking towards us. We make eye-contact and he stops in his tracks.

“Oh, you’re here?” he says, and my cheeks flush from embarrassment. I shouldn’t be here, and I’ll go in the morning, I just need to talk to him.

“Yeah, rode with Sam,” I reply, making a gesture towards her.

“Hey Josh!” she waves from behind me.

“Well, glad you all came,” he says, gaze turning away from me. I feel bad. I look at Ashley, and she looks at me with worry. She knows something’s up.

“When are you going to install some cell towers up here? I’m getting withdrawals already,” Chris complains. My eyes don’t move away from Josh. He seems oddly happy, oddly calm. Like he’s wearing a mask. He folds his arms before answering.

“You got a spare million lying around and I’ll fix you right up”

“Funny you should say that-” Chris starts, feeling his pockets.

“Ah, I think I left it in my other jacket”

“Oops”

Ashley sits down on the stairs again, looking away from me. I wish the stuff from last year never happened. Josh turns around, and I notice Matt and Emily for the first time. Emily is looking as good as ever, unbothered by everyone. A freeze creeps up my spine. I always got this uneasy feeling when being in her presence. Matt is standing behind her, a bag standing by his feet. He looks worried, and angry. A weird mix. I still don’t feel comfortable with everyone here.

“Get here okay?” Josh asks them.

“Yeah, well, more or less. But it’s so good to see you” Ashley answers. Matt is silent, and Emily looks at him annoyed. Josh walks up to the redhead, asking in a low tone.

“What’s up with them?”

“Mhm” she responds, looking up at them before shaking her head. Drama, again. Does it never end? Chris and Josh walk up to the door while we others wait. I don’t want to be a bother to him, yet. They talk loudly while getting the door open, using way too long.

“Damn, frozen lock,” I hear. I look up, but they’re still talking. Probably about how to get in. The cold is getting to everyone, Emily is warming herself with her hands, and looks over to Matt for support. He doesn’t do anything, just continues staring into the woods.

Finally, they both make their way down again, Chris stopping in front of Ashley.

“Hey Ash,” he smiles. Her cheeks redden as she waves at him. They’re cute, both of them. I would’ve thought that by last year they would’ve gotten together, but it seems like none of them still dare to make a move.

“Soo, how’re you doing?” he asks, and she looks over at me before turning her gaze back at him.

“Mmm, good I guess. A little cold though. I think I could use some time curled up by the fire…”

I can’t help but smile at Chris’s reaction. He blushes, looking at her intently. Sam snickers as she gives me a nudge. We both know what he’s thinking about now.

“Yeah, that does sound pretty nice…”

They both smile at each other, before Josh signals for him to follow. They make their way around the house. I turn back around, seeing Ashley standing up and grabbing my arm. We go the opposite of them, getting a little away from the others. As we stop, she lets out a breath, staring at me intensely.

“Look, I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, or even see me, but we have to. I need to,” she starts, and I look down at the ground. I’m bombarding Josh on this trip, it’s fair for her to do the same to me.

“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons I came”

“I never meant for any of the things that happened to ‘actually’ happen”

I look up at her again, missing her. The whole year has been a wreck, and I didn’t even have my best friend to help me through it.

“I followed them, I did, I was in it, I know I was. I just, I never meant to hurt either of them”

“I know you didn’t. That doesn’t change the fact that you were in on a plan that lead to their deaths”

“You have no idea how much regret I have, I keep playing that night over and over again, wishing I could change it. I’ve missed you!” She takes a breather before continuing. “This whole year, I’ve been so alone, please”

Tears are forming in her eyes, and I feel myself getting heavier. I love her so much, and it wasn’t her fault. She was also the one of those involved who spent the most time outside searching for them. I remember getting up and finding her with frozen fingers, getting ready to go outside again.

“It’s going to take some time for me to completely trust you again-” I begin. Her eyes fill with hope, and my chest lightens from her reaction.

“Take all the time you need, but know that I’m here when, or if, you decide to come back”

“We can start slow,” I say as I grab onto her arms and pull her into a hug. I feel her breathing steady and her heartbeat slow. Tears form in my eyes as I rest my head on her shoulder. I’ve missed her so much. She hugs me hard, and I wonder if I’ll ever get out of her grip. She’s stronger than she looks.

“Thank you,” she whispers back, and we pull apart. We make our way over to the others, Sam giving me an encouraging smile. Only one last person to talk to.

We wait a bit, and I decide to walk to the side of the house to check up on them. They’ve been there for an awfully long time. I arrive, noticing a missing axe on the side of the house and two men trying to shove a big dumpster. I notice the open window as well, getting to know their plan.

“Need any help?” I ask, walking over.

“Ugh, please” Chris pleads, showing his side. Josh doesn’t say anything. He just waits on the other side of us to be ready to push. I help them, and in three hard rounds, we manage to move it enough. Chris makes a loud grunt as he hops on it, looking in the window. Josh still doesn’t pay attention to me, so I decide to make myself useful instead. The dumpster is high, so I nudge Chris’s foot. He looks down at me, reaching his hand down for me to grab. With his help, I manage to get up. The inside looks dark and dusty, not my type of environment. As I turn around, my foot slips on the ice, making me fall. I yelp as I go down, closing my eyes and covering my head in my arms. I wait for the impact, but am instead grabbed by two hands. I open my eyes, meeting Josh’s. My breathing quickens, lips parting a bit for more air. He’s standing still, one hand on my back and one under my legs, holding me bridal style. I can’t read his expression. His eyes are wider than usual, and I notice the strong colour of his undereyes. He hasn’t slept well recently. My hand goes automatically to his shoulder, and I suddenly get flashbacks to our drunken nights. Him twirling me around in a playful manner then stopping and staring into my eyes a little too long before putting me down. Right now, he doesn’t put me down, instead he keeps looking at me. My cheeks feel hot, and my lips yearn. His brows furrow, a bit of anxiousness and hurt showing. I’m holding myself up with one of my arms, but the other moves to his neck, feeling his naked skin. Then we hear a loud thud.

He shakes his head, suddenly remembering where we are, and he puts me down. Still a bit in the moment, it takes some time to gain my balance again. We both look up to Chris, but he’s not there. Instead, the window is wide open. I’m about to get on top of the dumpster as Josh reaches out a hand for me. I take it, smiling at him while he helps me up. He smiles back, a kind one. Those are the ones I like the best. His other hand goes to my back, as I steady myself on the box. On the top, I give him my hand, helping him up as well. We both look down and see a hurt Chris lying on the floor, teeth bared and eyes pinched closed.

“I’m okay! Should’ve paid more attention in climbing class” he comments, and I snicker.

“You mean gym?” Josh asks, clearly confused.

“Yeah, you know, with the climbing up the rope”

“Yeah, that’s what you do in gym class” I add.

He stands up, the lightbulb suddenly exploding.

“Shit” we all say in unison.

“Did I do that?” Chris asks.

“Uhh, I don’t think so”

Josh looks down, grabbing a hold of a lighter in his pocket and throwing it to him.

“Here, use this”

Chris flicks it, but it doesn’t light up as much as expected.

“Woah, Chris I just got an awesome idea-”

“Yeah?”

“Totally. Okay, so I’m pretty sure that I’ve got some deodorant in one of the bathrooms, you could use that with the lighter”

I look weirdly at him. “How’s a stick of deodorant going to help?”

He nudges me, looking over and smiling. “It’s a spray can.” I haven’t seen his smiles in a year, so every one of them makes me smile back, a warm feeling spreading in my chest. I look over at Chris again.

“Flamethrower, like we do with the little army dudes!” he exclaims.

“Yep, the ones that we melted”

“Freaks” I comment, pretending-rolling my eyes. Chris gives me a pouty mouth.

“Okay, so you got this?” Josh asks, and he nods, walking further into the room. Josh and I jump down, luckily both landing on our feet. I look over at him, unsure of how to proceed. Luckily, he begins.

“So, we haven’t talked for a while”

“Yeah,” I nod.

“And, you came here?”

My breath catches as shame coats me. I’m absolutely an intruder.

“Sorry Josh, you haven’t been responding, and I just needed to know you were okay”

He gives a slight smirk.

“So, still care about me huh? Even after a year?”

My heart sinks a bit as I’m going to tell him about my feelings. He got to know last year, but I just need some sort of closure. A year without moving on has made me come to that decision.

“Listen, if you don’t want me here, that’s fine, I’ll take the bus tomorrow morning. And I got a bit hurt from not getting any responses from you, and that’s fine, I get it. But please, since you obviously don’t want to think about everything that happened last year, we can just go back to being friends, good friends-”

“I don’t want that” he responds, and I look down again.

“Then I’ll be out of here tomorrow morning, okay? The bus only goes onc-”

He suddenly grabs my hand, stopping me from walking back.

“Hey, that’s not how I meant it. I wanted to get back in touch with you, just after this, I truly did, but-”

“But what?”

“What happened between us last year… I don’t want to let that go”

Our eyes meet, faces closing in.

“I’ve just been working through everything, and things haven’t fallen into place yet”

“I know, I know. I’m here for you Josh, if you need me”

His signature smirk plasters on him, and I can’t help but blush. His hand moves to my waist, the other behind my neck.

“Good God, of course I need you” he whispers, pulling me in and kissing me. His lips are cold, but I don’t mind. My arms close around his neck, and I pull our bodies closer. Our moment is interrupted by several shouts. We look at each other before running over to the others. A baby animal runs down the stairs and into the forest. Everyone is laughing while Chris holds the door open for everyone.

“Home sweet home,” Josh says as he walks in. Everybody sighs.

“It’s freezing in here”

“I’ll get a fire going”

I look around, surprised by how little has changed. It looks exactly the same. Matt points it out, also analysing the place.

“Well, nobody’s been up here” Josh explains. Telling us how the police stopped working quite quickly.

“What’s up party-people”

“Heeeey!”

Mike and Jess. I sense some tension in the room, and catch Emily giving them a nasty glare. They both take a place on the sofa, rubbing on each other. Nasty people. Matt stares at Mike, giving him the up-and-down. They’re all crazy, everyone’s ego shooting through the roof.

“Yeah, come in, take whatever you want” Matt says in an accusing tone. Fuck, already? I pull up my phone, trying not to pay attention to the others. A bunch of words are exchanged, and I only catch a few.

“Watch yourself Mike”

“Was your sluttyness too loud?”

“Oh, no one else can play with your toys?”

I give up, deciding to pay attention. As long as I’m not part of it, it’s fine. Emily and Jess continue tearing each other up, building the tension more and more. Mike is silent, and Matt tries to occasionally cut in to diffuse the situation.

“Stop it!” Josh suddenly shouts.

“This is not why we came up here, this is not helping-”

“This is not what I wanted. If we can’t get along for ten minutes then maybe we need a break?”

I stand up with Sam, unsure of our next move. No one is paying attention to us, everyone focuses on their own fights.

“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin I told you about?”

“Yeah, we’ll go do that,” he answers, holding out his hand for Jess. They both make their way outside.

“Wait, shit” Josh exclaims, slamming his hand into his head. “I forgot about the generator.”

“I’ll get it” I volunteer. He showed it to me last year, so I’ll manage on my own.

“You’re an angel” he points at me, before leaning down to the fireplace.

I make my way outside, the wind surprising me. The wind is refreshing, pulsing through my lungs. I want to run down, at least jog, but don’t dare because of the ice. Instead, I plug in my earpods, listening to already downloaded music. A squirrel climbs a tree on my left, and I consider stopping for it. I remember giving my nuts to Sam on the bus-ride, so maybe I should just leave it alone. The path is dark, and a little bit scary. The same eerie feeling that bothered me in the start creeps back, and I take a hold around myself. Why did I decide to go alone again? I arrive in the shed, opening the generator and starting it up. I suddenly get a feeling like I’m being watched, so I quickly make my way up again. On the way I meet Emily and Matt. I slow down, greeting them.

“Where are you guys going?”

“Forgot one of our bags” Emily responds.

“We’ll be quick”

I continue walking up, noticing movement in the side of my vision. I turn, but nothing’s there. I hold my breath, looking closer. After a minute, I give up. It was probably an elk or a deer.

I only find Ashley and Chris sitting on the sofa inside.

“Where are the others?”

“Sam’s checking the bathtub upstairs while Josh’s trying to get her some warm water going” Chris responds.

“He probably needs help” Ashley adds.

“And none of you wanted to?”

“Nah”

I give them both a fake-disappointed look before making my way to the cellar. The concrete walls look dirty, and the light is off. When I’m down, I hear a low summing to my left. Knowing Josh is further in the right, I still decide to check out the sound. I walk over to a heavy metal door, looking around it for some sort of glimpse to the other side. I put my ear against it, hearing the summing sound better. It sounds like some type of technology, like a used up computer.

“Boo!”

Hands grab me, making me scream. Josh is laughing, moving his hands to hold me, but I keep hitting him.

“You fucking jerk Washington, you scared the crap out of me!” I scold, letting my hands fall to my sides.

“Sorry, sorry. Felt like the right thing to do in the moment,” he excuses, hands moving around me, hugging carefully. My heart rate lowers, and I let myself sink into his embrace.

“Could you help me with this water-thing?” he asks, looking down at me expectfully.

“Of course, but wait-” I say while he drags me.

“Josh, what is behind this door?”

“That one?” he points.

“Yeah, I heard something. It was like, summing or something”

“Probably just the pipes” he says, dragging me further away.

“Okay…”

We make our way to the cabinet, picking and poking at some wires.

“Can you click that button when it turns red?” he asks. I nod in reply. When it turns red, I quickly push it, making it green.

“Hey we did it!” he exclaims, hand going up for a high five. As I make contact, he grabs my hand, turning it, and making me spin around. As I bump into him, he places a kiss on my forehead. I laugh, but he just keeps smiling.

“You’re beautiful, you know”

“Why thank you, you’re not too bad yourself”

I grab his hand harder, and start walking. I want to make my way out of here, the vibe is creeping me out.

“I feel like you just called me average”

“Wouldn’t have fucked you if you were just average”

“True that”

As I take the first step up the stairs, a loud bang is heard. Like metal on concrete. I turn around, not glimsing anything. Josh is looking attentively, carefully letting go of my hand.

“Josh” I whisper.

“Stay there”

I don’t listen, and instead make my way silently behind him, holding on to his bicep.

“You heard that, right?” he asks, and I hum.

Suddenly a man in a cloak and mask jumps forward, arms out. We both shout, grabbing each other's hands and running to the stairs. I smack my arm on the corner of the opening, making it hurt. I don’t bother with it, getting up to the door and trying to get it open.

“Josh! Josh! Josh!” I shout, not able to open it.

“It doesn’t open from inside!”

“How do we get fucking open then!” I shout back, furiously gripling at the door.

The guy comes nearer, and Josh puts his arm defensively in front of me. I lean into him, hand grabbing him, hard.

“Eyy”

“What?”

“Eyyyy…”

“What the fuck, Chris?” I manage to squeak out. Josh is laughing his ass off, and I look to and fro them both.

“You just got monked!”

“Gosh, Chris, nice one”

“Wha-?? Why would you do that?” I ask, the tension leaving my body, finally being able to relax.

Josh places his arm on my back, calming me down.

“Come on, it was funny”

“Absolutely not”

As we walk back, I turn to Chris.

“Okay, I’m ready to admit that your dumb little prank may have had a slight whiff of humour to it,” I state, the harshness in my voice disappearing.

“Jokemaster!”

“I never said anything about jokes, I was talking about your stupid prank-”

“Holy crap” Josh chimes in. “You were scared, admit it”

“I wasn’t scared, I was surprised”

“Nah hun, you almost pissed yourself”

“I did not!”

We make our way back to Ashley, who’s walking towards us. She meets Chris in the middle, and he bows.

“What in God’s name are you wearing?”

“I’ve found my true calling” he says, making a cross in the air.

“Please tell me you’re going to take a vow of silence”

Chris starts talking soundless in the air, making Ashley laugh. I look between the two, the tension between them stronger than before. When are they gonna crack? What will it take?

“Feel better now?” Josh asks me, nudging me in the arm. A sharp pain goes through me as he does.

“Ouch, fuck” I whisper, grabbing the spot.

“Shit” he suddenly gets a worried look on his face.

“I’m just gonna go to the bathroom and check this out” I say, starting to make my way up the stairs.

“Hey wait up, Sam��s in there, you can use mine”

“Oh okay, and which room was that again?”

“I’ll show you”

“Hey Josh, do you have an ouija board?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, just look in those shelves over there, see if you can find it. We’ll be right back”

His hand moves to my lower back, guiding me up the stairs. As I walk down the hallway, memories start flooding in. Him and I walking down these corridors, and into his room, then…

We go to the room above his, where he opens a cabinet and finds some salve. I start undressing, shaking a bit from the cold. As I get to my last layer, I realise that I’m only wearing a bra underneath.

“You gonna take that off?” he asks, pointing to my sweater. I give him a smirk, leaning forward slightly.

“Sure you can handle it?”

“Absolutely not”

I laugh at him, deciding to just take off my sweater. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. He looks in awe as I turn around and check out my arm in the mirror. It’s just a scrape, and it doesn’t look that bad, just stings. Awoken from his trance, he moves beside me and looks over my arm.

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt” he states, watching intently as he cleans it.

“I wasn’t, then who was?” I question, confused by his tone.

“N-no” he stutters. “I just mean that you shouldn’t have been hurt this way”

“You want to hurt me another way?” I tease, leaning forward a bit, giving him a little more to look at.

“If in a sexual way is what you mean” he whispers, looking up at me with puppy eyes. I lean towards him, a hand making its way behind his neck and pulling him closer. Then I kiss him, carefully, gracefully, but he doesn’t keep it that way.

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chaos-of-the-abyss · 2 days ago

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i mean, i definitely don't disagree that beren and luthien -- and the rest of the lotr universe if we're being honest -- is full of misogyny and sexism. from the characters to the settings to a good part of the messaging, all of it operates from a patriarchal worldview that reflects the mindset of its writer. everyone who reads tolkien's works should be aware of that and it's absolutely fair to criticize it. (though i will say: a trend i've noticed in fandom is criticizing that the misogyny only in the characters/stories one dislikes and wants to prove as "bad," while ignoring it in others.)

i don't think your particular criticism (that luthien should have easily been able to take on celegorm and curufin, and they never should have posed a threat to her) works with what we're given in-story though. luthien is never presented as "powerful" in the typical action-hero sense. it's perseverance, guile, cleverness, and sheer nerve that pulls her through against sauron and morgoth, not physical power. i also don't think it's quite accurate to reduce celegorm and curufin to random dudes. those two are, if not war veterans, certainly battle-experienced by the time of beren and luthien, and they've seen and been involved in a lot of fighting: the first kinslaying (albeit their side was much better armed than their opponents and received reinforcements from fingon), the initial skirmishes of the exilic noldor with morgoth's forces upon their arrival in beleriand, and the dagor bragollach. i believe in some versions they also help cover orodreth's retreat from minas tirith, which similarly suggests some type of military involvement. and i'm absolutely not going to be the person that goes "uwu let female characters be feminine!!1!!11!" -- the argument can, and should, be made that we should get more female warriors in the lotr verse. that's definitely one of my main frustrations; of course we have women like eowyn, haleth, and emeldir, all of whom we know can fight -- but i could always use more female warriors (and more gnc women period) in my fiction. however, in frame of what we know about luthien as she is canonically, the idea that she should have been able to easily overpower celegorm and curufin doesn't hold up.

regarding her putting morgoth to sleep, what we need to keep in mind is that luthien tricks him first, and tells him she wants to sing to him as a minstrel. then it's morgoth's own arrogance and his indulgence of his desire to corrupt luthien that keeps him from noticing her true intentions, giving her the window of opportunity to put him to sleep. she didn't just open the act by immediately sedating him, and i don't think she could have. her magic doesn't allow her to just put people to sleep willy-nilly; the circumstances have to be right, or it has to be one of those moments of, for lack of a better way to put it, cosmic intervention (like when she put carcharoth to sleep). none of that was the case for when she met celegorm and curufin. what i'm trying to say is, despite how she's perceived (often along with resounding complaints about how she's such a "mary sue"), luthien is not an untouchable powerful demigod with a track record of easily kicking aside everyone that gets in her way. many of her antagonists far outclass her in terms of "might". but she's brave, confident enough in herself that she believes she can pull off what everyone else tells her is impossible, and resourceful and astute enough to optimize what she has going for her to her best advantage despite the odds being stacked against her -- and that's ultimately why she succeeds. which was part of tolkien's intention, imo, as it fits best with the lotr verse's themes: it's not the "big," "powerful," people that pull off the most spectacular feats. it's the people who have estel, who don't give in to despair, who have the courage and tenacity that so many others don't.

also, regarding the "enchantment" idea: another reason it puts a bad taste in my mouth is that nowhere is any magic in the legendarium ascribed the ability to make people fall in love/lust with the user. even morgoth, the most powerful of the valar, can't do that; there's simply no reason to think that luthien should be able to. and i do understand wanting to explore her character more beyond her story with beren, but forcibly shoehorning her into a position -- against all indications given in the narrative about her, about celegorm and curufin, about the extent to which magic in the universe is capable of influencing someone -- in which she's the one at fault for a male character trying to sexually assault her is not the way to go about that. to be frank, the whole concept of making female characters who by all accounts in the source material are perfectly decent people, ~more morally grey~ because it's ~feminist~, particularly when the process of doing so exonerates a male character for his sexually predatory behavior toward her, and in the case with luthien, flips the situation so that she becomes the predatory one... i don't think it's feminist in the least. there are better ways to give female characters more agency and depth beyond their male love interests than making contrived scenarios in which she becomes responsible for the actions of men who victimize her

as blatantly misogynistic as the "luthien enchanted celegorm" theory/headcanon/whatever they call it is, i do think an interesting concept is a celegorm who convinces himself that luthien enchanted him to explain his own abhorrent behavior, because even he can't quite accept how low he's gone -- i.e. he tells himself that the lust and desire to possess luthien that at least significantly motivated his actions toward her was a result of some maiarin enchantment on her part. it doesn't quite align with my personal reading of the character (though it's not wholly incompatible with it either), but celegorm with his own hellfire-adjacent musical number would be a hell of an aesthetic

#self rb #but don't get me wrong i do think luthien should have skinned celegorm and curufin alive

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kpopsexstories · 2 days ago

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NCT Dream Dating Ban #8: All 7 members Pt. 1/3

NCT Dream can’t date girls. As his gay friend you help them out with their sexual needs. (Part 1 of 3)

This is a 100% gay smut story. Check out this post for my straight smut and this post for more gay smut.

Pairing: NCT Dream x Male Reader

Content: You're having sexy with Jisung when Renjun and Jeno come to join.

Type of Sex: WILD

Word Count: 2.3k

Previous parts in the NCT Dream 'Dating Ban' series: Jisung Pt. 1, Jisung Pt. 2, Haechan, Mark, Renjun Pt. 1, Renjun Pt. 2, Jeno Pt. 1, Jeno Pt. 2, Chenle, Jaemin Pt. 1, Jaemin Pt. 2.

It's the morning of the last day of your week-long visit with your best friend Jisung. You've slept in, and wake up feeling somewhat melancholic. In just a few hours you'll be out of the city, and who knows when you'll be reunited again?

It's Sunday. Except for someone rummaging around in the kitchen, the NCT Dream dorm is quiet. The room is bright as day though, illuminated by the sun shining through the blinds of a window. Jisung is snoozing quietly by your side, on his back under the duvet.

You turn on your side to look at him. His head is tilted toward you and you can't help but think how cute he is in his checkered purple pyjamas.

You wonder what he's dreaming of. He moves and moans softly when your roll makes the mattress shake ever so slightly. You study his adorable face closely while he's beginning to wake up.

“Morning,” you whisper and lean in for a kiss. Jisung kisses you back and smiles, but keeps his eyes closed.

“Morning,” he says softly. He raises his arms above his head and stretches his body under the duvet, while twisting his face to wake his brain and muscles.

You kiss him again and reach into the duvet with your hand. Jisung's soft stomach under the smooth pyjama's feels wonderful to touch. You're going to miss mornings like this one.

At the start of your visit you discovered something great, something amazing. Even though you've been friends for years, and with the exception of the time when you experimented together in school, your friendship was always platonic. That has now changed forever.

You've lost count of how many times you've had sex, since the first night when Jisung told you about the strict dating ban the company has put in place for the boys. He was a whole different person back then, when he stuck his dick in your hole for the very first time. He was nervous and hardly moved.

When you later stuck your shaft in his ass he was in pain. He sure has come a long way since then, and you're happy to have been the one to open him up to new experiences. To the world of gay sex.

It's hard to believe that it's only been a week. Your relationship will surely never be the same again.

It's equally hard to believe that he's not the only one you've had sex with during your visit, and that he's been perfectly fine with sharing you with his friends. As you kiss him gently and lovingly, your mind wanders to the other great experiences you've had while on this trip.

First there was Haechan, who fucked you from behind on the living room couch when everyone else were out. Then there was Mark, who snuck into the bathroom when you were having a shower. They both gave you a wonderful time with their cocks.

Next, there was the time when you met Renjun in the community pool of the apartment complex, gave him a blowjob in the water and had hot sex with him in the locker room. He came out to you as gay, and he proved to be an amazing power bottom.

Then there was Jeno, past the halfway mark of your visit. By that time you had realized that the dating ban was perhaps a hoax, not at all as strict as the boys made it out to be. You had grown excited and a little obsessed with the idea of having sex with all seven members throughout the week, and you knew exactly why Jeno came waltzing naked into Jisung's room when you were alone in it. Of all the boys Jeno was the roughest, wildest sexual partner you've had, and he fucked you so good your ass hurt for hours after.

Jeno's eagerness and shamelessness was only challenged and matched by Chenle, who felt a little left out. He rudely but adorably crawled into bed with you while you were napping, and to make him leave you alone you gave him the most sensational blowjob. It made him come so hard his sperm squirted all over the bed and your bodies. Ah, good times. It was incredibly hot.

Finally, there was your other best friend. Jaemin. He'd stayed oddly quiet during your trip, and you felt bad that you had neglected him. You managed to miss each other a lot this week, and your traditional bike trip almost never happened. But eventually it did, and Jaemin confessed his love to you. You wanted to score a perfect streak, and he was as desperate for sex as the others. He gladly fucked you against a tree before you biked all the way back to the city.

Needless to say, as many times as you've visited the boys in the past, this was a highly unusual and sexually charged week. Jisung might not be the only one who has changed a lot during this time.

Jisung has opened his eyes. “Please don't go,” he says while rolling his body into you, holding you close and interrupting your nostalgic thoughts.

“I have to,” you say and look sad. You're really going to miss him.

The soft kisses turn into a makeout session. Jisung is fully awake by now and entirely focused on you. You touch and feel each other under the covers, and rub your stiff dicks together through your clothes.

You are going to leave though, and Jisung will have to return to a reality without you in his bed. Strict or not, the dating ban is as real as the stigma surrounding homosexuality in Korea. He is going to suffer once you're gone.

Before then, however, you want to give him one last round of passion. And it's very clear that he wants the same. Morning sex is on the table, and you're both ready to get naked again.

Though you kissed him first and initiated the makeout session, Jisung is the one to instigate the sex you're about to have. He pushes the full length of his body harder against yours while you rub your hips together, and eventually rolls all the way on top of you. He knows what he wants and how to ask for it. He's not the inexperienced young man you knew from school any longer.

And neither are you. As he jerks and thrusts his crotch between your legs, you pull up his shirt and touch the bare skin of his waist, ready to take what you want.

The skinny body is warm and smooth. Jisung sits up on his knees between your thighs and pulls the pyjama shirt over his head. Simultaneously, you lift your upper back and begin to take off your own clothes.

It's not long before you're both fully naked, wrapped in each other's arms, kissing and grinding in the sheets.

“Stop, I'm not in the mood,” you say.

Jisung immediately freezes and looks at you with a surprised disappointment. “Really?” he asks.

You smile, then laugh. “Nah, I'm kidding! I want to fuck you senseless.”

Jisung smirks back at you, more than a little relieved. “Can I go first?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say and roll on your side, taking the man with you.

You end up on your stomach with Jisung grinding on your back. He's thrusting all over you, and you feel his beautiful dick play between your ass cheeks. You raise your hips slightly and hold still, while he slowly pushes the dick inside you.

“Ahh,” he groans loudly. You've both long since stopped caring if anyone outside can hear you.

“Ah, fuck!” you exclaim when you feel his shaft stretch your hole. ”Mm, Jisung, give me that cock.”

Of all the things you've done in bed together, talking dirty is perhaps the one thing Jisung took the longest to get used to. But for the past few days even he has learned to love it.

“Ahh,” he repeats. “Yeah, you like that? You like my dick in your ass?”

You can almost hear the lustful smirk on his face. He's become a very different person indeed, who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to take it.

“Mm, yes, Jisung. It feels so good when you fill me up.”

He quickly starts to fuck you faster. You feel his hands on your back, and his head and shaft filling you up as it goes in and out repeatedly.

You're completely engulfed in the moment. So much so that you don't even notice the door slowly opening behind you then closing again. It's only when you hear a voice that you realize that Renjun has snuck in, and is standing by the foot of the bed watching.

“Can I join?” he asks gently.

Of all the boys, Renjun and Jisung are the only ones who have bottomed for you. In Renjun's case you've learned that he's had more gay sex in his life than you thought, but that he's only been the top once. That was the first and last time he tried it.

Jisung abruptly stops moving his hips. With his dick still inside you and a hand firmly planted on your back, he twists his neck to look at his friend.

“What do you think?” he asks and turns his head back to you.

Your head is buried in a pillow and you struggle to turn around and see the two men.

“Sure,” you say and smile. “If you're okay with it.”

Jisung definitely is. Renjun might even be the answer to his problems when you're gone. Since he won't be able to fuck you, he realizes and hopes that he might be allowed to fuck Renjun instead.

When you've all verbally agreed Renjun doesn't waste any time. He starts to take his clothes off, while watching closely as Jisung goes back to fucking you.

When he's completely naked Renjun crawls into bed next to you. You feel his presence as his hands and arms begin to touch you. A threesome was not something you'd imagined when you woke up, but you're totally into the idea.

Jisung pulls out and rolls to your left. He lies down on his side next to you.

You half way sit up as your eyes meet Renjun's. The prospect of having sex with the gorgeous twink again excites you.

He quickly leans in to kiss you. Jisung is smiling wide when his two friends begin to make out in front of him. You don't get very far though, before the door opens again and Jeno appears in it.

You look up and thoroughly like what you see. The man is wearing nothing but a pair of low-hanging pyjama pants. You eye his v-line and the strong muscles in his arms and chest.

“We can all hear you you know,” he says and lets out a low laugh. He doesn't seem at all bothered by what he's witnessing.

And he doesn't bother to ask permission, when he suddenly approaches the bed. Without giving you time to respond he comes over and climbs on his knees onto it.

Renjun is wrapped up in your arms, but Jisung is a wide-open target. Jeno has heard your wild and loud sex all week, and knows that Jisung can take a dick. He checks out yours while he approaches Jisung, then turns to face his friend. Within seconds of his appearance they begin to make out.

Jisung rolls on his back and Jeno crawls onto him. He lies down between the twin's legs, hoping that if all goes well on this morning he might be the one to take your place and fuck Jisung on the regular.

And Jisung seems eager too. He quickly adapts to Jeno's advancement, spreads his legs wide, and rubs his hands all over Jeno's toned chest and stomach.

The sight is a relief to you. It allows you to turn your attention fully to Renjun, whose cute ass you can't wait to penetrate. You hold is whole body in your arms, with a hand firmly planted on his butt cheek. You kiss and touch and squirm while you embrace, turning the passionate love-making into an erotic exhibition.

The threesome has turned into a foursome, and you're about to have incredibly good sex all around. Jeno hasn't closed the door though – again – and it's not long before Mark and Haechan come to say their goodbyes.

You see them standing in the doorway. They're glaring and drooling, in disbelief over the scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

Renjun is half way sitting in your lap, his hands all over your body. He too looks up. “Come in,” he says and smiles wide at his friends.

They don't need to be invited twice, and soon there are six bodies in the room. They stand by the foot of the bed, clothed but incredibly hard, while Renjun pushes you down on the bed and positions himself on top of you, and Jisung's hands glide into Jeno's low-hanging pants to feel his ass.

This is so fucking good! you think. Only Chenle and Jaemin are missing, but they're around and you know that it's only a matter of time before they too come to investigate what on earth is going on.

You desperately hope that they will. Like, it would be a disappointment if they didn't. Mere minutes ago Jisung was still sound asleep, and now here you are, with five naked and horny boys in your bed, about to take this sexual fantasy to an insane new level.

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thevoicefromanotherworld · 3 days ago

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"I KNOW IT'S YOU BABY"

The idea of this story belongs to @robo-writing

@kittyhowlett @alastorssimp @mynamesstevenwithav

I hope you like it, bubs!

The professor had called the X-Men into the common room to explain the mission they were to carry out that day.

It was hard for you to get out of your boyfriend's bed, as every time you tried to get up he would pull you back and whisper things in your ear like, "Do we really have to go, can't we just stay here a little longer?"

Gathering an enormous amount of willpower, you separated from him and after giving him a soft kiss on the lips you told him that you had to be there, since everyone else would be there.

He let out a groan and reluctantly got out of bed, while going into the bathroom.

You made yourself presentable and walked to the common room. Ororo was already there, as were Jean and Scott. The Professor nodded to them, welcoming them.

"You've arrived," he observed. "Please sit down, we're going to start." They sat facing each other on the chairs in the room.

The professor began to talk about the mission, but after a few seconds, without you being able to avoid it, your mind began to recall the memories of the previous night.

You tried not to let your thoughts be too intense so that neither Charles nor Jean could hear them.

You looked away at Logan, with his hair perfectly combed imitating those cat ears that you liked so much. He felt you looking at him and tilted his head towards you, connecting his lively green eyes with yours. He sketched an amused smile before looking back at the professor.

It was then that you decided to torture him a little. The previous night he had not let you cum, so that moment was the ideal one to take your revenge.

You used your ghostly power to slide your hands over his abs. You saw how he gave a surprised jump in his chair, but he still continued to listen to the professor's explanation. You moved the spectral copy of your hands to his neck, exerting a little pressure on it. A low growl escaped Logan’s lips, and you smiled.

You knew you would get revenge for what had happened last night, but you didn’t expect it to be right then. That same night was the same night you discovered that Logan likes you to choke him while you fuck.

He loves the feel of your fingers around his throat, the knowledge that if you want you can cut off his air supply at any time, it’s something that turns him on.

Your mutation also includes telepathy, which is why you hear Logan’s words in your mind as clear as if he were saying them out loud.

“I know it’s you baby,” he whispered in your mind, “you have to stop.” Ignoring him, you lowered your hands to his thighs and slowly parted his legs. He pretended it wasn’t affecting him, when in reality he was burning up inside.

He desperately needed to sink inside you. That game was turning him on too much, proof of that was the tent he had set up in his pants.

“Princess” he said, holding on tightly to the arms of the chair. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” you thought as you smiled half-heartedly at him.

Logan then felt the cold touch of your lips on the inside of his thighs, getting closer and closer to his cock. You looked at his face, his expression going from a hidden gesture of pleasure to a delicious tension. Before you could touch it, you pulled away, breaking the connection.

Logan’s eyes widened as he realized how fast the action was. One second you were about to kiss his cock, and the next you weren’t there anymore.

You smiled triumphantly at having gotten the revenge you longed for. You then focused on the teacher again, but before you could hear a single sentence of what he said, Logan's voice filled your mind with a strong thought.

“You're a very bad girl, ghostie,” he whispered, his voice had dropped two octaves. “Provoking me like that in front of all our friends,” he whispered. “I should punish you for what you've done.”

“Please, Logan,” you sighed in your mind. He smiled, clearly seeing how much his words affected you.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” he smiled. “You're always so eager for me,” he growled, making you cross your legs trying to relieve the pressure that had settled between them. He smelled the excitement that emanated from you in waves. His gaze darkened as his smile grew wider. “Don't worry,” he whispered. “I'll make sure to give you what you need.”

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duckprintspress · 3 days ago

Text

“A Truth Universally Acknowledged”: Four, Four Teaser Posts!

A Truth Universally Acknowledged: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Jane Austen’s “Pride and Prejudice” is 80% funded! With 8 days to go! We’re really on a roll, and we’d love to keep that going to reach our goal early and maybe get to a stretch goal or two. Stretch goals are great for us, because they primarily are designed to enable us to raise the pay of our contributors!

In case you were wondering, there’ll be five more of these teaser posts after this one – so we’re almost halfway through the teasers. A lot of contributors means a lot of posts!

Story Teaser: Mikki Madison

Title: The Magnificent Mr. Markham

Excerpt:

“Why, Mr. Markham! How lovely to see you here!”

Mary swallowed a screech and spun to face her accuser. Georgiana lounged in the plush chair by the window in a most unladylike manner, her legs kicked over one of the arms while she leaned against the other.

“What are you doing in my room?” Mary demanded.

“You didn’t want to talk at the party, so I thought I would wait until we were somewhere you might be more amenable.” Georgiana gestured to the room. “Somewhere we won’t be overheard, for example.”

Art Teaser: Zel Howland

Zel is the creator of the spectacular art for the enormous folding fan we’re offering as a bonus! Here’s a bigger version so you can see some of the amazing details:

Zel has also contributed two pieces to the book! We’re only doing one teaser for artists who contributed multiple artworks, so you’ll have to wait to get a glimpse of the other.

Title: A Stolen Moment

Author Teaser: Lucy K. R.

Title: To Her the Pride

Excerpt:

“You could be so pretty!” Annabell offered during one of their small-group tea party practices. “I can bring my hair straightener tomorrow.”

“You’re not touching my hair,” Mia responded, pushing her untouched teacup away.

“Be polite,” Paige warned past her discomfort, glancing toward the prowling Mrs. Morrow.

“Why?” Mia demanded in return, turning those sharp eyes on her. “I asked Mrs. Morrow what it was for the other day, and you know what she said? ‘To make things simpler for people.’ So I said: ‘For who? It’s not simpler for me. Why should I make things harder for myself so other people can take it easy?’ and she didn’t have an answer for that. She just made me go to the reflection corner.”

“…did you reflect on it?” Paige asked, so mortified that she was in danger of getting sandwich crumbs on her dress from how her hand was shaking, but she was fascinated in equal measure.

“Yeah,” Mia allowed with a shrug. “I decided I was right.”

Paige had gone home that day with a spot on her lap from the cucumber slice that had dropped from her sandwich.

Art Teaser: Elizabeth Rose

Title: A Handsome Face

Story Teaser: Shea Sullivan

Title: A Constant, Fearful Longing

Excerpt:

“You’re not afraid of anything, are you?” Georgiana asked with a cautious smile.

“Oh, I’m afraid of all sorts of things,” Lizzy said. Everything inside her churned restlessly. “But I’m not afraid of you.” She looked up at the stars and picked out the shapes that Georgiana had pointed out to her, and then the ones they had made up together in summers past.

She feared finding Pemberley deserted, of losing the truest friend she had ever been lucky enough to find. She had never felt so strongly with Charlotte, or even Jane. No other person had provoked in her such a constant, fearful longing.

A claustrophobic grief gripped her suddenly, that losing Georgiana was inevitable—if not to a riot of terrified townspeople, or to her imminent departure, then merely to the steady march of time.

“Whatever would I do without you?” she asked quietly.

You’ve reached the end of the post! Now check out the campaign to learn about all our contributors and offerings!

#duck prints press #a truth universally acknowledged #queer fiction #queer anthology #queer fanworks inspired by #pride and prejudice

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crooked-wasteland · 3 days ago

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When the fans think their ideas are so genius because they ended up in the show when, really, they are simply stolen from them in the first place and still lack any coherence.

The fire in Oops, for one, completely contradicts the show from Loo Loo Land. When Blitz gets thrown from the tent at the start of the fight, he lands in a crate full of Hellfire torches. Throughout the chaos no one is concerned about the very green fire all around them. Blitz is entirely unharmed and even his clothes don't burn. But I'm supposed to believe the fire killed his mother and that it's all Blitz's fault?

We see different types of fire in the Mammon episode with Fizz using blue fire that we can assume is relatively harmless. So why would candles in Hell use green fire and not blue fire? It just seems like a complete oversight, until you recall that a fire was the fan idea of what happened to Fizzarolli. Literally everyone and their mother was convinced and hyped over the idea of Fizz becoming injured in a fire, despite how insane a thought that would be when he still has his tail, the actual first thing that would have been injured and destroyed in a fire before his limbs. The addition of the explosion may have worked for Fizz's arms being gone, but not his legs.

Fans have ideas and Medrano merely regurgitates them without really thinking it through. So if you came to see Medrano's story, it isn't her story. It's a template of her story with other people's half-baked ideas thrown on top with not a single ounce of effort to flesh them out into a cohesive whole.

So when I'm told how much I should pity Stolas, I also know that comes from a fan seeing Stella throw objects (and servants) at him for cheating on her in her bed and that person not at all seeing such a reaction as the realistic and arguably appropriate reaction to being deeply betrayed. It was a fan who didn't care for the context of female rage or broken trust and felt bad for the waifish gay man who didn't raise his voice and thus must be that perfect little victim.

Which Medrano swan dives into such an interpretation without regard for how sane people would interpret that. Despite seeing the nuance of both sides and genuinely believing both can be terrible while also being sympathetic, I'm the one in the wrong for pointing out how Stolas just perpetuates abuse no differently than what was done to him? People who are actually adults and have experience with abuse, who also don't wallow in self-pitying narcissism have still not let this point go. And we never will.

This is why you don't just listen to your fans when it comes to a story. Because it shows how little creativity you really have when you can't fit it into your already established world.

Despite the unnecessarily long ask sent by the other person about Stolitz, they're not wrong. Anti-Stolitz (and Anti-Stolas as well) are disingenuous and ignore every tiny bit of deeper analysis regarding Stolitz that isn't crammed into "Stolas is an monster boohoo"

There is just so many wrong things that you guys talk that is baffling.

I'll just say to: cut with the whole Stolas mischaracterization, Blitz being used as an empty vessel for you guys project your own feelings into him and how he should react, also mischaracterize Blitz and his views, the twisting of Blitz's words and intentions towards Stolas is ridiculous.

As well as cut with the whole "retcon" talk regarding The Circus, which somehow is very common, this is just stupid.

I have no words anymore

#reblog #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss critique #spindlehorse critical #vivienne medrano #vivziepop

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voidspiraling · 24 hours ago

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Omg Till is so cute whattttttt. Excuse my brain rotting I just needed to get this out of my system.

LOOK AT THEM SO CUTE

ALL OF THEM SO CUTE!!!!

Ahem.

Now time for some serious analysis 🧐 (I don’t rlly get anywhere tho so less of an analysis and more just me asking a bunch of questions hoping for an answer from the void)

One thing I noticed aside from how cute Till is his eye bags.

This baby Till doesn’t have eye bags yet, so we can conclude that Till was starting to become sleep deprived after the age of 3 and before the age of 8. (I’m just making a guess based on the pics of their age Till could be 12 in that picture I truly couldn’t tell you)

Now what does this mean when a child is continuously sleep deprived by a stupid alien?

Impacts Behaviors: Harder to pay attention, prone to mood swings, and increased impulsivity (Yep that’s Till)

Impacts Mental Health: Increases the risk and severity of depression and anxiety (What do you know that’s also Till!)

Impacts Brain Development: Negatively affects the memory and intelligence parts of the brain (Do you guys remember that brain scan that showed a brain suffering from trauma?)

As you can see from an early age Till was already put through the wringer before he even got a bruise. I say this because sleep deprivation is extremely torturous regardless of whether it’s forced or self inflicted. Mentally and physically not getting enough sleep fucks up every aspect of your life. The lack of sleep could be bc Till was staying up late, it was noted by other Anakt kids that Till kept them up at night bc he was practicing his music. It could also be bc Urak forced him to stay awake.

Like when he made Till watch videos of a younger Luka. Overall my heart broke once again at the way they treat a literal baby. Another thing I want to point out is their necks.

I’m leaving out Ivan cuz he doesn’t wear the collar anyways. But Mizi and Sua both wear the standard (I’m assuming standard bc they’re the most common) collars both lit up green. They’re living in a little bubble and while they look cute, knowing how their story goes makes them look uncanny. Anyways this is the collar most of the kids wear.

But Till is wearing a different collar and also is wearing a green patch. It always made me curious why he has different collars compared to the rest. Like I get it’s bc of the fact that he rebels a lot so he has a lot more restraints. But this collar is thinner and more metallic than the other ones. You’d think that if they were trying to punish him more they’d give him a bigger collar or a more restrictive one. They forced him into one that restrains his arm to his torso and one over his mouth. But this is just a thin collar that he wears on stage and it doesn’t seem to have any function other than to be a small collar. It also doesn’t show a mood indicator like the other ones do. I guess bc Urak doesn’t care what Till is feeling so he didn’t bother getting that feature. But it also makes it ambiguous what Till is feeling. In the picture while Mizi and Sua look happy, and Ivan looks focused, Till looks shocked and perplexed about writing in the air. (And adorable but when doesn’t he look adorable?) Anyways I can’t for the life of me figure out why his loser alien would get a custom collar that is so simple. From what I’ve gathered abt that freak he grew up in the slums but due to his greedy nature and inability to have compassion was able make it big by doing illegal shit. So maybe it was cost effective to just make simple collars instead of getting the standard one? What a cheap bastard.

Another thing that confuses me is the green patch on his neck.

Just what is this? My first thought went to nicotine patches and insulin patches. But those aren’t suppose to go on the neck, usually on the arm. Then as I did my daily watch of Round 6 I noticed that Till has been injected with unknown substances through his neck.

My guess is that the green patches are injecting him with some type of drug. And because the skin around the neck is so fragile the drugs can seep through easier. (It’s completely unsafe but in line with how the loser alien acts)

There are two possible explanations.

One is that Till has become addicted to the drugs they pump him with. And in order to keep him normal and keep him from showing withdrawal signs they use the green patches like a nicotine patch. Drugs have been used by artists as a way to further their craft. Some have even become reliant on it in order to make art. There’s a sense of enlightenment as well, some use it as a way to gain a new perspective on life. I personally can’t understand using drugs for that purpose, but some of the greatest works of art have been created through the use of substances like these. So it’s possible that Urak in his attempt to create a weapon that could topple Luka tries to make Till produce songs using that method. Such as injecting a bunch of drugs and leaving him in a room to write songs.

Two is that they use the green patch as a way to sedate Till, or as a way to enhance his performance. As evident by just looking at Till you can tell he’s running on fumes when he’s on stage. So maybe as a way to push past his limit they drug him so that he can keep performing even when his body is at its limit. The patches are only seen in Round 2 but that could explain why Till got a nosebleed when he was performing in Round 7. His body was finally catching up to him.

Alternatively they could just be there to cover up the wounds from injections while also looking cool lol.

As you can tell I am very confused ;-; but also very curious abt these experiments. They seemed to be focused on the throat and mouth which makes me think they’re trying to modify how these kids sing. Like are they trying to make it so that they can sing outside of their vocal range? Are they trying to make it so that they can sing without having to breath? Or maybe the drugs can affect their literal genes. I know human editing is a procedure in Alien stage universe but what does that actually mean? Can you edit their appearance? Their personality? Their memory? Their thoughts?

My attempts at analysis have only left me with more questions.

Thanks for reading byeeeeee

#alien stage #alnst till #alnst ivan #alnst mizi #alnst sua #alien stage till #till my baby what did they do to you

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annaphoenix1994 · 2 days ago

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Vague History

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

»»-------¤-------««

With alien dryness irritating her eyes, Kiera slowly sat up in the bed, slowly realizing that it was now dusk. Have I been asleep that long?

Seeing that Simon wasn't next to her, she began to wonder what had happened between the time Malcolm had come to the ranch and when she had gotten home, remembering that she was distraught about one of the many war stories she had told her father, except this one was the worst. Sighing, she forced herself to exit the bed, her mouth dry and her stomach growling for something to be inside of it.

Almost as soon as she made it to the bedroom door, Simon was walking her direction with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a can of Dr. Pepper in the other. Oh, babe, you're speaking a love language doing that, she smiled to herself. "Since when do you eat popcorn?"

"I asked you if you wanted some when I got up, love," He replied, his brows furrowing at her confusion. "I asked if you wanted anything when I got up and you said popcorn and one of these. Figured I'd put on a movie while you were sleeping."

"Oh." She said, looking to the floor as her mind swarmed for an answer as to when she asked him for popcorn.

"Do you not remember?"

She shook her head and rolled her shoulders in search of relief, sighing as Simon set the bowl of popcorn on the foot of the bed as well as the can of soda, frowning at the bags under her eyes and how red they stayed from her time of shedding tears. "Are you alright, love?" He asked, cupping her cheeks and locking his eyes with hers. He knew immediately that she was still dwelling on the past, wishing he hadn't asked if she was okay knowing that she would think about the struggles she was battling within her own head.

"Y-Yeah," She replied, nodding her head that was still nestled in his hands. "How long was I asleep?"

"A good few hours. You needed it and more," He assured her. "I've been up for an hour."

"Shit," She grumbled, shaking her head. "I should go down and feed the horses-"

"Don't worry about it. I did it."

"You did? You? Mister I don't like horses?" She breathed a giggle.

"Never said I didn't like them," He grinned. "I just don't like how they make my, you know, feel after I get off."

"Well, I wouldn't know what that feels like, but thank you."

"You're welcome, love. I need the experience."

"Why?"

"Because if I'm in your life, so is your livestock," He shrugged. "I'm here for all of it, sweetheart."

He watched her blush, noticing how she leaned closer to him to press her head against his chest, inhaling his warm and inviting scent - something she was eager to wake up to for the rest of her life. His arms wrapped around her, kissing the top of her head as her grip on him was of something that reminded him of reassurance. He knew she was hurt in the worst way possible.

Her state of mind.

Which he was all-too familiar with.

"What time is it?" He heard her mumble into his chest, enjoying his warmth too much to lean back and check the time herself.

"A quarter past nine, love." He replied, his thumb rubbing the small of her back. She nodded, forcing herself to pull back to go to the bathroom and proceed with her usual routine.

"I'm going to freshen up."

"I figured that's what you were doing."

She turned to look at him from the bathroom, a toothbrush in her hand and a confused look on her face, "What else would I be doing?"

A sly smirk splayed across his face, "Well, considering you didn't know where you were when I woke you up, I figured you were thinking the bed was in there."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she watched him lay on his side of the bed, his arm behind his head as he crossed his ankles. "Might have to eventually get a new bed. Your feet are about to drape off the end of it." She poked.

"No, it's because you have thirty pillows on here." He replied, turning on the television.

"Can't help it. Especially when it feels like I'm sleeping on a rock." She retorted, referring to his muscled chest.

"That's why you sleep up against me every night, yeah?"

"Because if I don't, you'll be upset."

"Keep telling yourself that, love," He chuckled, putting a piece of popcorn in his mouth. "I just won't cuddle you anymore if that's the case-"

"No," He watched her pout, thinking it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. "I was just playing."

"So was I," He smirked. "Or was I?"

He knew he was helping distract her from her haunting thoughts, hoping it was helping as he did the same thing with Johnny when he was nervous while being isolated at times during a mission, always being the one to tell jokes over the comm to help keep him from feeling truly alone.

He browsed around on her Netflix account, not finding anything of interest until he felt Kiera's presence closing in on him, feeling her move to where she was on top of him before going to nestle herself into his side, the smell of fresh mint on her breath and coconut dry shampoo in her hair.

Naturally, her palm rested on his chest, ignoring the smell of popcorn but unable to resist the urge to drink the Dr. Pepper he had brought for her, waiting a few moments before sitting up to reach for it on the side table and moving to sit indian-style on the bed. "What're we watching?"

"You tell me, love. I don't watch movies." He sighed, the remote resting on his stomach as he looked at the back of her head before glancing down to her back, imagining how well her skin was healing from the grafts.

"Don't put that decision in my hands," She giggled. "I like watching scary movies. What about you?"

"Don't ever recall watching one," He shrugged. "I told you - I don't watch movies."

"Never seen a scary movie?" She smirked, looking over her shoulder.

"No."

"Too scared?"

He scoffed, placing his hand on the small of her back, "I can handle being in an active warzone being shot at and bombs going off, but watching a scary movie is where I draw the line." He retorted in a sarcastic tone.

"I know of something that does scare you."

"Well, please tell me so I can know when I should hide under the bed."

She smiled, setting the can of Dr. Pepper aside before nestling herself against his side, the familiar warmth of her mint-tinted breath drawing his face to look at her. "You were scared of loving me."

He sighed, pulling her closer to his chest as he broke his gaze to look up at the ceiling, his eyes dazing in thought. "No I wasn't."

"Mhm." She teased.

"I was afraid of losing you."

His words caught her attention, Simon feeling her head straighten to look at him, knowing that the conversation was not teasing like it was prior.

This was serious.

"Why?"

"I've experienced plenty of loss in my life, Kiera, but I've never been in love," He sighed, the thoughts of his mother, brother and nephew entering his mind, wishing they were still around for her to meet, knowing his mother would absolutely adore Kiera. Briefly, he thought about how Kiera would interact with his nephew, eager to see her motherly instincts. "I couldn't help the way I felt when you and I got close, but I wanted to push you away."

She hummed in question.

"Because everybody I kept close to me was taken." his breathing shuddered, having a sense that she was about to ask why, but to his surprise, she didn't.

Which was one thing he was appreciative about - her patience with him.

"I'm sorry." She frowned, the pads of her fingers feathering against his sternum, soon feeling his hand covering hers.

"Nothing to be sorry about, love. It's not your fault as to why my life is so fucked up."

She didn't reply, truly having nothing to say as she knew her reply would spark nothing but a negative comment back. "I don't think your life is fucked up, Simon."

"Believe me, it is," He sighed, bringing her palm up to his lips. "But you've kept me distracted from it. Although I'm reminded of it every night when I try to sleep."

"I understand that." She replied, recalling her own nightmares.

"I know."

Her brows furrowed, "Do... Do I keep you up?"

"Sometimes," He replied. "But it doesn't bother me. I'm surprised I don't keep you up, but considering you sleep like a rock, I'm not surprised."

She giggled, "Well, I'm sorry if I keep you up."

"It's nothing to worry about," He sighed. "Are you going to pick a movie or not?" He poked.

"I just might."

She ended up picking "The Conjuring", the movie being one that genuinely freaked her out, but she wasn't going to let Simon know that, although she could tell that he was weirded out by the doll in the beginning, stating that he'd "sling it through the wall" if he ever got a doll like that as a gift.

She couldn't blame him.

Her palm stayed on his chest, rubbing soothing circles against his shirt as he would be the one to drop a piece of popcorn in her mouth every now and then, enjoying her soothing touch as he felt the absence of it was enough to send him into emotional overdrive. If you only knew how much head over heels I am for you, love, he would think every time she made a comment about a particular scene in the movie, occasionally feeling her jump at random scenes.

Once the popcorn was gone, leaving nothing but leftover kernels in the bottom of the bowl, Simon kept his mind busy by toying with her hand, his thumb rubbing her ring finger like he always did, except it was her opposite hand that splayed on his chest.

Instead of focusing his attention to the movie, his eyes stayed fixated on the scars on her knuckles and the top of her hand, his finger grazing over them gently, wondering the story behind them.

"That one was from a knife fight." She answered him, taking notice of how his fingers grazed her skin, keeping her eyes towards the television.

"Hope he lost."

She chuckled, "Oh, he did. Him and his buddy, too."

He joined her in a laugh, tracing his finger over the next scar that was on the outside of her wrist. "That one was from another fight. Fell in some glass."

"Ruthless," He sighed, looking over at her to place a warm kiss to her forehead, noticing a faint scar on her hairline. "How'd you get this one?"

"My face met with a wall. Not my idea," She shook her head. "Thought that fucker had me, but I got my way out of it." She continued, running her hand across his chest, feeling the scar on his left pectoral he had already told her about, tracing it with her finger before her hand traveled to his side, feeling an abnormal dip that was invisible to the eye, but foreign to the touch. "What happened to get this one?"

He sighed, covering her hand over his ribcage and moving it back to lay on his chest, "Another time, love."

Truly, he didn't want to recall how he had matching indentions on either side of his ribcage, nearly wincing at the thought as he swore it was the worst pain he ever had to endure.

"I-I'm sorry." She frowned, curling her fingers into her palm, afraid to continue.

"It's okay, that's a story for another day," He assured her, keeping his haunting thoughts at bay before giving her his full attention to distract himself. "How long is left of this movie?" He asked, changing the subject.

"I'd say an hour," She sighed. "Although I probably won't make it 'til the end of the movie."

"You need to rest," He said blankly. "We can always turn it off-"

"It's whatever you decide. Not like you're going to make it through to the end of the movie anyway with how heavy those eyelids look."

»»-------¤-------««

Malcolm sat on his leather sofa, enjoying a glass of Wild Turkey as his enraged mind was desperate to distract his adrenaline from earlier. Loosening the bolo tie from around his neck, he began to wonder where he took his wrong turn in life, causing him to not only lose his marriage as well as rights to see his child, but also getting himself into yet another line of fire after coming home from the failed mission in Mexico.

Unlike Kiera, Malcolm liked to rethink the times he had in battle, a smirk toying on his face as he would replay his best kills in his mind, taking pride in it.

Even though some of those kills were with ally forces.

Licking his lips free of leftover bourbon, he peered down to his ringing phone, sighing at the caller ID before answering. "Yeah?"

"It's been a few days, Malcolm," Shepherd scolded over the phone, a weight in his voice - clear that he was aggravated. "What's going on?"

"Things like this take time, General. But it's not going easy, that's for sure."

"What do you mean?"

Malcolm sighed, "She found out I flew the plane, General. That's what I mean."

A brief pause.

"I need you to clarify."

"I don't know how much clearer I can get," Malcolm scoffed. "She found out the plane was yours and that I flew it. She paid me a visit at my office the other day."

"I'm afraid this is a problem that needs to be taken care of rather quickly," Shepherd grit. "I'm going to send you someone. And when he gets there, you two take care of it. Got me?"

"Affirmative, but it's not going to be easy-"

"That's why I called you in the first place, Lieutenant," Shepherd corrected. "Do it like how I used to do in the service: send a message to the enemy, get them angry enough to come after you, then you demolish them at once."

"Sounds tactical." Malcolm scoffed, knowing Shepherd's words were easier said than done.

"It is tactical, son," Shepherd shouted. "I'm keeping this in your hands. Remember who you work for." He reminded, the words bringing realization to Malcolm that he couldn't just say no and back out due to Shepherd's blackmail on the Lieutenant, both of them being equally guilty in their career of war crimes, Malcolm's most recent being participating in the slaughter of the citizens of Las Almas on that rainy night, the thought chilling him to the bone every time it crossed his mind.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now that we're on the same page, do as I suggest. Send a message. Have her so mad and tearing at the seams to get to you, then take her out. It's that simple."

It's really not, Malcolm thought, knowing exactly who he was about to fight against. I don't know who I dread fighting more: her or that boyfriend looming over her.

"I'll get to it first thing in the morning."

"As soon as possible would be preferable, son. We don't have much time."

Don't fucking call me that, Malcolm grimaced. "Who are you even sending me?"

Shepherd breathed a laugh, "You'll see. Be sure to hit her where it hurts. Put some thought into this, Lieutenant. I've got your back."

We'll see about that.