#everyone moved past the contest

[respectthepetty]

Hi Respect!

I really loved @placetneplacet's post calling out how Zo's fears around Joke went directly back to his interactions with Puen, and you highlighting the specifics of how it's impacted Zo throughout the series. You both tapped so adeptly into something I've been rather incoherently rambling about, regarding how fear is a reoccurring motif in the show. And I was curious about your thoughts (and anyone else's) on how Joke's fear is being portrayed so far. We're seeing him push through a lot of more...I don't want to say superficial, because they're still quite valid...but more traditional human phobias (height, rollercoasters, etc) due to his desire to be near Zo. But there was that one scene where he absolutely panicked at Zo not answering the door & phone, to a rather excessive degree (I think most of us would assume our friend was asleep or stepped out without their phone before we decided they were probably dying and needed our help). So it seems that he's able to overcome fears in order to get closer to love, but that same love is also his biggest Achilles' heel around fear.

It feels to me that Joke has a rather substantial fear around loss based on something that happened in the past. And I'm wondering if there's going to be something revealed that will cause Zo's fear to retrigger, and maybe pull back, and then that will create issues around Joke's fear around losing Zo...

Anyway, would love to hear your thoughts!

(Adore your color analysis, btw)

@befuddledcinnamonroll, this is me after reading this -

@heretherebedork has mentioned a similar idea that Joke has his own issues with abandonment and loss due to the way he reacts to Zo's distance.

I'm of the mind that Joke is simply a lovesick guy who subjects his cousin to Sad Boy Karaoke when Zo avoids him.

But you and @heretherebedork have pointed out several instances of Joke panicking when it concerns Zo like the apartment moment.

And @chicademartinica mentioned that episode three was just forty-five minutes of watching Joke panic to the point that he showed up in the middle of the night outside of Zo's apartment

All because Zo was "acting weird earlier."

When it was because he touched Zo, and Zo ran for the hills.

TWICE!

But now that I think about it . . . maybe I've been too dismissive of Joke's behavior.

I took Joke for being the usual pushy seme in a BL, but when it comes to Zo, he is really pushy.

I have defended Joke's behavior because, to me, it's needed to break through Zo's resistance, but . . .

Each time Joke has been called out for his behavior, he offers a variation of this response:

And next week, when confronted with his hidden agenda (if it isn't him conspiring with Pat to get Zo, I'm going to be shocked - LOOK AT THE REFLECTION!)

He offers the same reasoning - due to his actions being based on his care for and of Zo, he wasn't in the wrong.

Which leads to Zo getting upset.

During their pseudo-date, Zo told him the story of roses.

In response, Joke mentioned he would never let his lover go.

Joke stated he "would never let someone [he] loves face danger alone."

We have four episodes left and have no idea where Joke's parents are. Why did he take Zo to meet his grandmother, and not his parents? But we've seen Joke cover for Nita to protect her from a stalker to the point that he didn't defend himself against rumors. And we saw how he reacted to James and Puen hurting his loved ones.

Joke's reactions are reasonable to me, but both Nita and Zo had to drag him off James, and Joke wanted to fight Puen so the second Puen grabbed Zo's arm, Zo had to tell Joke to back off.

I want there to be a reason beyond love that makes Joke so protective, but like you mentioned, what if love really is his Achilles' heel? What if Joke gets so blinded by love that he can't see reason? What if he wants to protect Zo so badly because one time he didn't?

And what if it all stems from the freshy contest?

Because even then, Joke had his reasons.

Perhaps the one time Joke didn't cross the line and didn't push back, was the one time he didn't protect Zo.

And he can't allow that to happen again.

[amberautumnfaebrooke]

i think i could design a better death arena for children than those hunger games amateurs.

the whole premise of the games is all pageantry. every year you get a crop of 24 candidates around whom the entire state media apparatus dedicates an entire year to building celebrity narratives. this candidate is the younger sibling of last year's winner - these candidates are young lovers forced to compete - he's smart - she's fast - root for them, care about them, watch them, form opinions on them, bet on them. and then they stick them all in an arena to kill each other, which is a great entertainment premise, except that they make the arenas themselves really boring and generic. ooo, they're in...a forest.

it's not even an interestingly designed forest. imagine if the game designers treated their arena like an actual video game designer treats level design. discrete zones with multiple paths between each room, creative use of lighting to guide players to points of interest, points of interest scattered across the map, discoverable resources hidden to encourage exploration. instead they just have a generic outdoors location and if you get too close to the edge they throw a random fireball at you.

the 75th games are especially bad about this. the arena is laid out radially into 12 wedges, and each hour one wedge becomes especially dangerous in a 12-hour loop. as a mechanic, this is genius. it forces everyone to keep moving, making "survival by hiding" an engaging and tense viewing experience instead of someone sitting in a tree for three days. plus, it encourages players to return to the center of the arena, where travel time between wedges is short, which creates a high-value zone for players to regularly return to and conflict over. in other words, it's a mechanic which incentives players to adopt dramatic, dynamic, exciting behaviors which are entertaining to watch (not to mention it communicates geography to the audience well). but it only incentives those behaviors if the players understand what's happening, and they go out of their way not to tell the players anything! when they figure out what's going on, the showrunners spin the arena to disorient the players, like they're intentionally trying to get them to just. randomly wander the jungle instead.

this isn't even to mention how often they create undramatic, boring deaths. they plant poison berries around the arena. they supply no fresh water and no way to get it. they roll poison clouds over sleeping victims. these happen to work out in the books themselves but you have to imagine that extremely often these just result in players dying unexciting deaths.

the cardinal sin though, of course, is that nothing is done to personalize the arena for the crop of contestants that year. if i'm designing the 75th hunger games and two of my most beloved contestants famously had to cancel their wedding because of a return to the games, i would OBVIOUSLY give them a trail of, i don't know, wild game which conveniently leads directly past a well defended wedding chapel. will they hole up there for a while? hold a mock ceremony for themselves? do or receive ironic violence here? stare wistfully and move on? any of it is better television than getting attacked by generic attack monkeys. you should have a dozen of these things on the map for every single candidate. but the game makers are more interested in doing the same thing every other game has done than in telling a compelling story.

it makes me second guess enjoying the children's murder arenas at all.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Soo, for the event: "Please leave him, I know I'm not perfect but for you i'll try, I promise i'll try"

Or something like that

~1k words. (They're idiots in love)

You knew Jason Todd would never be yours. Knew it when you were barely a teenager and just entering high school. Knew it when he miraculously returned from the dead. Knew it when he made a name for himself as a hero.

It wasn’t just the fact he was consistently voted one of the most attractive vigilantes in the Gotham Gazettes annual popularity contest. No, it was the fact that Jason Todd belongs among legends and myths, and you? You were none of those things.

You weren’t delusional to believe yourself worthy of him, not when he walked with gods and monsters and always seemed to come out on top. So, you buried your feelings, buried them so deep that no one batted an eye when you started dating.

Your relationships never seemed to last long, though, not when they always seemed to have a problem with your best friend being a guy, and then a bigger problem with said best friend being your roommate.

But your most recent boyfriend has managed to last longer than any of your previous relationships. You thought it was a good sign, that maybe you could move on from your age-old crush.

Your heart had other plans. It didn't help that your boyfriend didn't seem to exactly care about you either. He seemed more interested in his video games, and in dragging you along to whatever parties his friends are throwing.

It was obvious, to everyone really, he was using you as some kind of arm candy. You figured it was only fair, you were using him too, even if he didn't know.

Your friends were at least nice about it, even as you brushed off their concerns that you deserved better. Jason, though? He couldn't seem to let it go.

It was almost an everyday conversation for the past week. He'd never been so opposed to any of the people you’ve dated before, but he's treating your boyfriend like he has a personal vendetta.

Sharp glares whenever he picks you up, biting remarks to have you home safe. Those you could deal with, but the near lectures? The insistence that your boyfriend is the wrong guy for you? It's aggravating. You know your boyfriend is wrong, but you can't exactly have what you want.

“He won't make you happy,” Jason grumbles, face furrowed as you sit down on the couch.

“I'm not marrying the guy,” You huff, making a face right back at him. You've been having the same back and forth for days, and you really can't figure out why. Sure, your boyfriend sucks, but he's not hurting you.

Jason looks at you like he's affronted that the idea of marriage is even on your mind, “He's a bum.”

“He's– okay, but he brought me those goldfish,” you protest, gesturing towards the kitchen as if to prove your point.

He cocks his head at you, tone clearly unimpressed, “The ones in the snack bag? Doll, I think they were his leftovers.”

You wince a little, unable to deny his claim as you try to find any good in your relationship, “He texts me goodnight.”

“So do half your friends. And me. I say goodnight to you,” he points out, put out by your instance to defend your boyfriend.

“That's different,” you mumble, dropping your gaze. You find it kind of embarrassing, the way you're still searching for his approval even if you don't particularly care for your current relationship.

“Not really,” he sighs out, and carefully sinks to his knees in front of you to grab your hand. It snaps your attention back to his face. “Look,” he starts slowly, “I just want you to have the best, and he's– he's only gonna make you miserable, sweetheart.”

“What does it matter? Nothing changes if I'm with him or if I'm not,” You grumble, trying not to focus on the way his warmth seeps into your skin.

He looks increasingly conflicted at your words, squeezing your hand as he speaks, “I could treat you better. The way you should be treated.”

Your breath hitches. That's– there's no way. It has to be some kind of joke. He's pitying you, maybe. Or it's some sort of twisted sense of responsibility towards you.

But he keeps talking, voice low like he’s trying not to send you running, “Please leave him, I know I'm not perfect, but for you I'll try, I promise I'll try."

“What are you saying,” You ask weakly, unable to face the possibility that he means any of it.

He meets your gaze, firm and resolute. He sets his jaw like he's working up the courage to spill all his secrets, “I'm saying that I would make you happy. I don't know if it would be great, I don't even know if it would even be good, but I would make sure you were happy. I– you mean the world to me.”

He breathes out your name, raises your hand to brush his lips over your knuckles, “I want you to be happy.”

You think you might be dreaming. Never in your wildest fantasies did you ever consider Jason Todd would be willing to tie himself to you. But there's no waver in his face, no lie in his eyes.

“Just think about it, sweetheart. We're already– you're already the most important person to me. Taking another step together wouldn't be so scary, right” he prompts gently, and you can only dumbly nod in response.

The smile that spreads across his face is intoxicating, and it almost has you agreeing to the whole idea immediately.

“Good, good,” he murmurs, standing up and sending you another wide grin. His voice grows more confident as awe fills your face, “You think on it tonight, doll, break up with him tomorrow, and tomorrow night? I'll take you on a date. A real date. Something you'll like.”

He sounds excited, even eager at the thought, and he leans down to kiss the top of your head. It's hardly the first time he's done it, but it feels different this time, special. “Just think on it,” he tells you, smile easy and inviting.

He leaves you on the couch to think about it. It doesn't take long for you to decide. After all, your boyfriend will understand, you've never been good at saying no to Jason Todd.

[goldfades]

★ PROTECTIVE ─── PB⁵

❪ requested -> "i love your writing sm!!! could you maybe write a paige x reader where reader is on the team and it’s an intense game and reader gets accidentally hit in the face and her nose starts bleeding. it’s not even bad but paige is all livid at whichever player that did it and she’s helping reader clean up all the blood and stuff?" ❫

─ pairing | paige bueckers x fem!reader

─ warnings | protective paige, mentions of nose-bleeds and discomfort, pretty fluffy

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

THE GAME had been intense from the get-go, both teams playing aggressive and physical defense.

The stands echoed with the roar of the crowd, but everyone remained focused, their eyes locked on the ball. With each possession, the tension mounted, and the stakes grew higher. The scoreboard flickered with each point scored, but neither team could gain a significant lead.

As the game progressed, the players' determination became palpable. They dove for loose balls, contested every shot, and fought for rebounds with unwavering resolve. The crowd was on their feet, swept up in the game.

You were focused, keeping your eyes on the player you'd been been guarding this entire game. She was quick, agile, and had a deadly accurate shot. You knew that any lapse in concentration could result in her slipping past you and scoring points for her team.

You mirrored her every move, anticipating her cuts and drives to the basket. Each time she attempted to break away, you were there, shadowing her with relentless tenacity. The sweat beaded on your forehead, your muscles burning with exertion, but you refused to let up.

With each possession, the intensity between you two grew. She drove to the basket with determination, but you were there, contesting every layup, refusing to give an inch. When she pulled up for a jump shot, your hand was in her face, disrupting her rhythm, forcing a miss.

But she was relentless, constantly searching for openings, probing your defense for weaknesses. You matched her step for step, refusing to let her gain the upper hand. That was your style ─ completely and utterly focused and determined.

Paige finally got subbed back in and she jogged back to the court. You felt Paige's hand pat your back enthusiastically as she passed you, but your focus was completely on the game. With each passing moment, the stakes seemed to rise, the intensity escalating with every possession.

Then, in a split second, everything changed. As you maintained your defensive stance, focused on your opponent's movements, she made a sudden pivot, her elbow catching me squarely in the nose. The impact sent a sharp jolt of pain through your head, and you stumbled backward, momentarily stunned.

You stumbled back into Aaliyah, who quickly steadied you as the opponent began apologizing. Grateful for her steadying presence, you blink away the stars dancing in your vision and attempt to focus through the throbbing pain in your nose.

The opponent's voice, filled with genuine remorse, pierces through the haze of discomfort. "Oh shit, I'm sorry," she exclaims, her tone laced with concern. "I didn't mean to—"

Before you could answer, you heard another voice do it for you. "Didn't mean to, my ass," Paige's tense voice echoed as she examined your nose. "Watch where you're going next time,"

Despite the pain, a flicker of amusement danced in your mind at Paige's blunt response. It was typical of her to defend you fiercely, even in the midst of a game.

Gently pushing aside Paige's concern, you offered a reassuring smile to both her and your opponent. "It's okay," you said, your voice strained but calm.

However, before you could continue Geno subbed you out quickly. He wanted to make sure you didn't have a concussion or any other serious injury. As you made your way to the bench, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins, you could feel the concerned eyes of your teammates on you.

"Take a seat," Geno instructed, his voice worried. The team medic quickly approached, shining a light in your eyes and asking a series of questions to assess your condition. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," you replied, the throbbing in your nose subsiding slightly.

He nodded, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. "We need to make sure you're okay. Take a moment to rest and get checked out."

You answered the medic's questions, reassuring them as best you could that you felt fine, despite the throbbing in your nose and the lingering dizziness. Your heart ached to be back on the court, contributing to your team's effort, but you knew Geno was right to be cautious.

As soon as the halftime buzzer went off, Paige was jogging toward you. She took the medic's place and began assessing you herself, her concern evident in her furrowed brow and the tightness of her jaw.

"How bad is it?" Paige asked, her voice low but filled with worry.

"It's not too bad," you replied, mustering a reassuring smile despite the throbbing in your nose. "I'm fine,"

Paige's brow furrowed with worry, but she maintained her composed demeanor. "Let me take a look," she said, gently tilting your head to get a better view of your nose.

After a thorough inspection, Paige nodded to herself, her expression softening slightly. "Doesn't look too bad," she assessed, her tone more reassuring now.

Just as she stopped speaking, your nose began to bleed slightly, a trickle of blood escaping and staining the ice pack pressed against it. Paige quickly reached for a towel, dabbing away the blood with practiced ease.

She kept the towel pressed against your nose as she watched at you, her gaze concerned. The medic approached, ready to assist, but Paige intercepted her. "I got it," she said firmly, taking the tissues from the medic's hand.

With a nod, the medic stepped back, trusting Paige to take care of you. Paige then turned her attention back to you, her focus unwavering as she continued to apply gentle pressure to your nose.

You couldn't help but smile in amusement at Paige's seriousness, a stark contrast from her usual playful demeanor off the court. As Paige continued to staunch the bleeding, her expression softened slightly, a flicker of concern in her eyes. You could tell she was worried about you, her usual lightheartedness replaced by a focused resolve to see you through this.

As the bleeding finally began to subside, Paige inspected your nose once more, her expression more relaxed now. "There we go," she said softly, offering you a reassuring smile. "All cleaned up."

You nodded, grateful for her care, and took the tissue, dabbing at your nose to ensure it was dry. "Thanks, P."

Geno called for a team huddle before halftime to an end, and you and Paige joined your teammates at center court. Despite the discomfort in your nose, you stood tall, ready to listen to Geno's pep talk.

"Alright, listen up," Geno began, his voice loud. "We've had a tough first half, but we're still in this game. We need to stay disciplined on defense and execute on offense. Remember, every possession counts."

Paige stood beside you, her presence a comforting reassurance as Geno's words washed over the team. Her hand found yours, squeezing it tightly as she listened to Geno.

"Y/N, you good to go back in?" Geno asked, his gaze focused on you.

You met Geno's gaze with determination, nodding firmly. "Yes, coach, I'm ready," you affirmed, the throbbing in your nose now a distant discomfort compared to the excitement burning in your chest.

With a nod of approval, Geno's expression softened slightly. "Alright then, let's finish this half strong," he declared, rallying the team for the game ahead.

With renewed determination, you and your teammates broke the huddle and made your way back onto the court. As the second half began, you took your position, ready to give it your all for your team.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[coldzonkprofessorturtle]

An Affair to Remember

Alright, let's get into Affair the Series, which has been giving me brainrot the past few weeks so feels like a good time to get into an analysis of why I find it so fascinating. Eventually I'd love to do a deeper dive into Thai GLs and that industry (that's a whole other thing though) but after having seen my share of them (Gap, Show Me Love, TSOU, The Loyal Pin) I've really found myself falling into the rabbit hole with Affair the Series and the way it depicts friendship, love, and acceptance.

Deep dive below and also thank you gif makers for your work 🙏🏽

(also will go over events from episodes 1-5, so spoilers ahead if not up-to-date)

So first off, I have read the novel, which is the first time I've finished one of those for a GL and quite frankly, the translation wasn't that great but the story still came through. I won't refer to it much and will base this on the show as I think they've done a fantastic job with the adaptation and fingers crossed continue to do so.

Where in most GLs the core conflict is external. The main couple can't be in love typically due to familial/cultural pressure or a man interfering (that still exists to an extent here) the main conflict in Affair is simply that Wan and Pleng love each other too much but they do so in different ways.

When we meet Wan and Pleng they're 17 years old and have spent their entire lives together. They're sisters but not and while Wan seems to have a social circle, Pleng really has no other friends outside of Wan. The spoiled rich girl and the maid's daughter. Couldn't be more different if they tried and yet by circumstance their lives are as intertwined as it gets.

At 17, they have different ideas for their futures. Pleng is musically talented, wins every contest and is financially set. She can live the life she wants. If she wants to be a musician then so be it. Her parents love and support her and there's no pressure. Wan on the other hand has an overbearing mother (and a resentful father), no prospects for her future but at least she has Pleng.

Despite her parents, Wan loves wholly and openly. She knows she loves Pleng and while she doesn't yet know it she does know that Pleng loves her too. I would argue that Wan truly knows herself, which is why she comes across as so self-assured in their younger years. She's slowly trying to guide Pleng to understand herself too.

Pleng, however, has never had to sit with her emotions in the same way. Take this as differences of personality, class and upbringing. Now that they're 17 and entering adulthood, Pleng has to start engaging with the world (and her emotions) rather than hiding behind the rich, insular lifestyle she's had up to this point.

As the idea of boyfriends comes up, Pleng starts to lash out. She's jealous, she's pushy but really she's just in love with her best friend and doesn't know it. Everything starts happening too fast. Wan meets a boy at an art gallery, Aunt Wi pushes Pleng to help Wan get with Ek, Pleng's dad is extremely stressed and she doesn't know to what extent and throughout that Pleng is dealing with her feelings that for some reason just won't go away. Feelings that Wan keeps bringing up in her over and over.

Pleng is a mess. She doesn't know how to connect with her peers, she knows something is wrong with her dad, she sees that Wan is seemingly moving forward in a way that she's not (dating a boy) and whether she realizes it she continues to isolate herself.

From Wan's perspective she couldn't care less about dating Ek. She's already completely devoted to Pleng (in ways that Pleng doesn't even know).

They're 17, hormonal, gay, and incapable of seeing each other's perspective. Wan wants Pleng to let her in. Pleng can't help but push everyone away.

As soon as Pleng starts to really come to terms with her feelings about Wan. That's when everything falls apart. Her dad kills himself, her mom goes into cardiac arrest, all of her family's assets are seized and she's now orphaned and staying with Wan's parents who clearly and vocally have no space for her. Pleng who was already struggling to find her footing before that fateful night now has absolutely nothing to stand on.

The break point is when Pleng finds out about Wan's academic achievements and that Wan had been hiding that truth about herself their entire lives. Wan has always been intelligent and capable but hidden herself behind a veil of ineptitude. Wan in loving Pleng puts her on a pedestal to her own detriment. She has no issue blighting her own light so that Pleng can shine but from the moment we meet 17 year old Pleng in the show we see her pushing Wan to better herself. Wan thinks loving Pleng means her own success doesn't matter whereas Pleng loves Wan and all of her potential.

They both love each selflessly but while Wan would burn the whole world to keep Pleng warm, Pleng loves Wan despite her own existence. So when Pleng leaves she writes,

"Your parents will feel at ease. And you'll finally get to live your life as your true self... I know you love me but I also want you to love yourself. And be proud of who you are."

For Pleng, her leaving is the ultimate way to show her love to Wan. A clean break. She runs away so Wan can thrive but here's the thing Wan needs Pleng to keep her grounded. Pleng does too but she can't see it at this point. Too much has happened and so, in her desperation she removes herself. She is her father's daughter after all.

So when 13 years pass and Wan has spent that entire time holding on to whatever she can to keep herself close to Pleng (becoming a doctor, riding a bike to work, marrying Ek, separating herself from her parents); Pleng has become a ghost of herself. Wan has imbued herself with all the things she thinks/knows Pleng would like while Pleng is stuck in a cycle that she can't get out of: play music, make a bit of money, pay rent, rest, repeat.

Pleng never reaches out to Wan because why would she? Her loving Wan means staying away and on top of that there's a sense of shame of what her life has become.

So when they finally meet again it's too much. Wan is successful but she's still clearly in love with Pleng and while it was all Wan's doing, in a way her success is a direct result of Pleng's influence. In removing herself, Pleng slowly begins to realize not just that she took Wan's smile with her but the why and how. Wan's changed and devoid of the joy and innocence that Pleng loved most.

They slowly fall back into their natural rhythms but Pleng still can't accept her own presence in Wan's life. Wan is back to pushing (albeit more aggressively then before - time was wasted) and in pushing Pleng, Pleng pushes back. If they take their relationship that one step further, what then? What if it falls apart? Why not just stay in a cycle where nothing shifts? What if there's another ringing shot in the distance and everything changes in a moment?

If there's one core trauma to Pleng as a character it's her desperation to not feel like a burden to anyone. Especially Wan. And then she finds out that Wan (though separated) is still married to Ek and she can't accept that she could have ruined Wan's potential happiness. Not understanding that Pleng herself is Wan's happiness. Pleng feels like a disruption because at the root of it the thing she wanted above all for Wan, "I also want you to love yourself. And be proud of who you are" is not something that Pleng accepts for herself.

I'll leave it there and hope the show navigates the situations that are about to come as well as they have so far but kudos as Affair manages to oh so gracefully skirt what could otherwise be an incredibly toxic relationship. Somehow they manage to give these two characters so much grace despite their flaws. And truly that's also a huge credit to Sonya and Lookmhee's abilities.

It's chaotic and messy but in coming back together these two might just realize that's how they both best shine.

[feytouched]

last esc post i prommy but here is how i would fix eurovision

a) jury vote value down to 25%, televote 75%

b) winners of past years can only feature as guests, not contestants. you had your shot, now move on

c) national juries need to have a fixed number of people from music related backgrounds reflecting diverse tastes and opinions, and jury lists should be public for transparency. keeping their names secret to avoid bribery has not prevented bribery from happening nonetheless

d) make votes cost the same for everyone. when some countries pay 0.20€ per vote and others well above 1€ that's gonna skew results

e) and lastly, get rid of israel

[foxy-eva]

Only Yours

Summary: After getting jealous at work Spencer reminds his girlfriend who she belongs to

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Dom!Spencer, Sub!Reader, secret relationship, possessiveness, jealousy, mild degradation/dumbification, teasing, oral (both receiving), fingering, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 2.7k

Masterlist

There were only two more hours left until you could finally leave after another day of paperwork. You didn’t mind being stuck at your desk, not with Spencer sitting right across from you, making eye contact and smiling at you every now and then. Concealing your relationship status while being surrounded by profilers was challenging but in those past few months of being with Spencer, you had become an expert at controlling your micro expressions at work. 

Spencer tried to do the same but something very interesting didn’t remain unnoticed to your trained eye. Whenever more than two weeks passed by without being able to be alone with him, you caught him randomly glimpsing at the curves of your body almost blatantly. He hadn’t noticed you looking up from your computer, watching him as he stared at the swell of your breasts, deep in thoughts or even fantasies. 

Smirking to yourself, you decided to have some fun teasing your boyfriend. You placed your fingers on the neckline of your blouse, tracing the fabric until you found the first button to toy with it. That seemed to snap Spencer out of his reverie, his eyes shooting up to yours while a rosy shade spread over his cheeks. 

You winked at him right before he averted his eyes, audibly clearing his throat as he tried to focus back on the files in front of him while shifting in his seat. Feeling a bit cocky, you decided to go over to his desk to be close enough to tease him some more without risking someone else hearing you. 

There was a little too much enthusiasm in your movement, causing you to bump into Emily as you shot up from your desk and stepped aside. You felt cool liquid spilling all over your top before you saw the now empty glass of water in your coworker's hand and the horror in her eyes. Looking down your body you found the light gray fabric of your blouse completely soaked and appearing sheer as it stuck to your chest, the black lace of your bra clearly visible. 

“Oh no, I’m so sorry!” Emily exclaimed and added, “I’m getting you a towel!”

You started laughing and thanked the universe that you wore a bra today, finding the whole situation more comical than embarrassing. Derek got up from his seat and moved over to you, raising one eyebrow as he looked you up and down. 

“Whoa, are we having a Wet-T-Shirt contest I didn’t know about?” He teased. 

You shook your head and laughed, “Only in your dreams, Derek!”

“Yeah, you bet!” He chuckled before being playfully hit on his arm by Emily who just came back with a towel. 

You took it from her and started to dry your blouse off as best as you could, glancing over at Spencer who was staring at you with furrowed brows and a slack jaw. Derek followed your line of sight and smirked.

“I think pretty boy’s brain is glitching.” 

Spencer hissed, “Shut up,” in Derek’s direction and looked back down at the report in front of him. There was no need to be a profiler to tell that Spencer was angry but you couldn’t be sure whether it was directed at you or at the situation in general. All this commotion quickly simmered down with everyone returning back to their desks. 

Just like before you looked up from your computer every once in a while but unlike earlier, Spencer’s eyes were never on you for the rest of the workday. After he put away the last of his files he packed up his things and walked over to your desk. You had finished your last report twenty minutes ago and waited for him to be ready.

He smiled at you and wondered, “Do you need help finishing up?”

You shook your head and grabbed your bag, ready to leave work for the day. Since you lived in the same part of the city, the two of you had been carpooling for months, not raising any suspicions from your coworkers when you left together. 

Sitting in the passenger seat of your car, Spencer was concerningly quiet but seemed agitated, constantly shifting and running his hands through his hair. You took in a deep breath before you dared to break the silence. 

“What’s going on?” You wanted to know. 

“It’s just that… I didn’t like the way Derek looked at you earlier. I wish I could have said something,” he confessed. 

You didn’t want to downplay his feelings but you felt the need to remind him, “You know how he is. He just loves teasing and flirting. You have heard the way he talks to Penelope.”

“I know,” he admitted, “It’s just that today you…you looked so…,” he paused for a moment. A sigh rolled over his lips before he mumbled, “So sexy.”

You weren’t ready to let it go just yet, snickering, “I see. So you don’t like when I look sexy?”

“Of course I do! I just don’t want Derek to look at you like that.”

The car came to a halt at a red light. You knew exactly what you were doing when you looked at him and purred, “Maybe you should remind me who I really belong to.”

His demeanor changed in an instant, his eyes getting darker while he licked his lips as he let his eyes wander over your body. When he met your eyes again he asked, “Is that what you want?” 

The traffic light switched to green and you whispered, “Yes,” before setting the car in motion again. 

Images of past moments you spent with him flashed through your mind, causing your heart to race and your insides to tingle. You knew not to expect him to do anything while you were driving but your whole body was yearning for his touch and the few minutes separating you from the privacy of your own home seemed endless to you.

The anticipation only grew after finally making it to your apartment. 

Spencer took his time to remove his coat and shoes. He liked to keep you waiting, to make you prove your patience. A smirk was prominent on his face as he looked at you, by now practically buzzing with tension as you waited for him to take the lead. And he did, with harsh hands grabbing your face and hungry lips meeting yours, kissing you with a fervor that made you feel light-headed. 

His tongue didn’t hesitate to seek entrance, brushing against yours while your hands gripped his shirt to keep you steady. The way he kissed you made your head spin and let every rational thought leave your mind. You were relieved that he took the lead, glad that you didn’t have to think for once. Following his demands was all you had to do for the rest of the night. 

Your bodies pressed into each other, displaying affection and lust with panties getting damp and a hardness straining against its confines. Spencer suddenly let go of you, moving to your bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed, having you follow him without question. You stood in front of him, waiting for his next move as you watched him remove his tie and shirt.  

“Take your clothes off,” he ordered. 

His eyes never left your body while you slowly removed every piece of fabric. Unabashedly, his gaze wandered over every curve and dip of your skin while he licked his lips as if he was ready to devour you. His obvious desire ignited a fire inside you, heat rushing through you as he beckoned you closer with his forefinger. 

Completely bare you stood in front of him, his fingertips brushing over the skin of your thighs and hips, repeatedly skipping over your aching center until your knees felt weak. He placed a soft kiss right beneath your navel and mumbled, “You’re so beautiful,” against your skin. 

He looked up at you with the utmost adoration in his eyes when he said, “Just tell me to stop and we will. Do you understand?”

You nodded and added, “Yes,” to reassure him. 

Once he had your consent he harshly grabbed your hips to pull you down, urging you to kneel on the floor in front of him. Doe-eyed you looked up at him as his thumb traced the seam of your lips. 

“Such a pretty mouth,” he cooed, “now be a good girl and show me how it feels wrapped around my cock.”

Your hands instantly flew to his pants, undoing them quickly and removing them until his erection was finally free from its confines. 

“Such an eager girl,” he chuckled at your enthusiasm. “Doing everything she’s told.”

You wrapped your hand around the base of his cock and kissed his tip before letting your tongue glide along the vein on the underside. Soft lips brushed over velvety skin, not letting any part of him unkissed. You felt him twitching and knew he would get impatient soon if you didn’t grant him what he asked you to. However, you hadn’t been with him for so long and wanted to relish this moment, so you kept tenderly kissing every bit of him. 

“Don’t be a tease,” he finally warned. “You know how to do this, don’t you?” 

Keen on pleasing him you wrapped your lips around him, sinking down as far as your throat would allow it. Spencer threw his head back, involuntarily bucking his hips up, pushing further into your mouth as he groaned. You moved your lips along his hardness, feeling how he tensed underneath you, his chest heaving and hands gripping the sheets. 

He lowered his eyes to look at you and when he found you still staring up at him you felt him throbbing against your tongue. 

“Fuck!” he panted, “You look so good with my cock in your mouth.”

Seeing him lose himself at your ministrations made your core ache. When he came close to his breaking point his hands flew to your hair, grabbing it roughly to pull you off him. His length was glistening with your saliva, still hard and waiting to find release. Spencer made it clear that he was not done with you yet. With his hands on your arms he helped you get up from the floor. 

Just like before you stood in front of him with him still sitting on the edge of the bed. One of his hands made contact with your heat without a warning, collecting your slick as his fingers glided through your folds. His touch was too light to actually grant you any relief, having you rock against his hand in an attempt to get what you were hoping for. 

“Please,” you whimpered. 

“You’re dripping wet,” he chuckled as he pulled his hand back, inspecting his glistening digits. 

He got up from the bed to stand in front of you, bringing his hand to your face to show it to you as well. 

“Look what I’m doing to you,” he teased. “Already a mess before I have even touched you.” 

Without thinking about it, you grabbed his wrist and brought his fingers to your mouth, sucking them clean from your own arousal while never breaking eye-contact. Spencer groaned at your action and for a second the lines of who was in charge seemed to blur. Not for long though, after a moment he pulled his hand back and grabbed you by your shoulders to guide you onto the mattress.

He joined you on the bed and started kissing you before he left your mouth to explore your neck instead, biting and licking sensitive skin as he moved further down your body. He took his time to caress your breasts, kissing soft skin and licking over hardened peaks, eliciting the sweetest sounds from your throat. For a moment you wondered if this was what he was thinking about when you caught him staring at you earlier. 

The more desperate you got, the slower Spencer seemed to move down your body and the fire burning between your legs became almost unbearable. When he finally was where you wanted him, you eagerly opened your legs for him, allowing him to settle between them and continue his kisses on the insides of your thighs. He took his time to caress every inch of skin except from where you wanted to feel him the most. 

“Please,” you pleaded, hoping he would understand what you wanted. 

He chuckled at your request and cooed, “You can’t think of anything else anymore, huh?”  

You were getting frustrated with him, the throbbing in your core aching to be soothed. His lips got closer to where you wanted him, his breath hot against even more heated skin, but he decided to turn his attention back to your thigh once more. You couldn’t take it for much longer. 

“Fuck, Spencer I’m begging you!” 

In an instant his mouth was where you wanted it, ending his teasing at last as his tongue glided through your folds before focussing on your bundle of nerves. He seemed determined to grant you release without any more diversions. You ground your hips against his face while singing his praise in the forms of moans and sighs rolling from your lips. 

Two of his fingers began thrusting into you while his tongue flicked over your pearl, sending you in a state of pure bliss. All the built up tension was begging to be released as you chased your ecstasy. Your walls clenched around his fingers, holding onto him tightly right before they started to pulsate. Almost erratically you rocked against his tongue, riding out your high until you relaxed underneath him at last. 

Spencer repositioned himself, leaning over you and propping himself up on his forearms before gently kissing your lips. He gave you a moment to catch your breath before reaching between your bodies to position himself at your entrance and pushing into you slowly. Your body welcomed him without any resistance, letting him fill you out completely. 

As he started to move, you closed your eyes, indulging in the sensation of being one with him. 

“He can dream of you all he wants,” Spencer suddenly groaned, having you open your eyes and look at him. 

It took you a moment to realize what he was talking about, having long forgotten everything that had happened today. 

Spencer thrusted into you harder now, accelerating his pace before he continued, “He can dream of you but he will never know what it’s like to have you.”

He leaned down to kiss you hastily while pushing into you at a relentless pace. 

“What it’s like to kiss you,” he added, “to feel you… to taste you.”

He looked down to where your bodies were joined, watching his cock disappearing inside of you over and over again.

“What it’s like to fuck you,” he panted against your lips before kissing you once more. 

“I’m yours, Spencer,” you mumbled against his mouth, “I’m only yours.”

The whole bed shook at the force of his movements, your body starting to tremble underneath him as you reached another high, your throbbing center guiding him towards his own climax. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he fucked you hard against the mattress, whispering, “You’re mine,” into your ear several times until he let himself fall apart and spill his release into you. 

As he came down from his high he pushed himself up to be able to look at you. Gently he placed his lips on yours before he whispered, “And I’m yours.” 

His body was covered in a sheen of sweat, his hair disheveled and cheeks tinted red but you could have sworn he had never looked more beautiful than in this moment. Your hand found his face, tenderly brushing a stray curl aside while you smiled at him.

“I like the sound of that,” you purred as you pulled him back down into your embrace. 

It took him a moment to even out his breathing while he lay completely jaded inside your arms. Lazily he peppered the side of your face with kisses while your fingertips drew comforting circles on his back. You didn’t want to move, not even when Spencer had long gone soft and the mixed remains of your desire started dripping out of you. 

Neither of you dared to separate what belonged together, so you stayed safely secured inside each other's arms for a little while longer.

If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!

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[spookyspecterino]

I saw you opened requests fire Eric x reader from AQPDO. How about they meet in the boat to the island and he likes her she likes him but she doesn’t want to give in bc she’s scared that they can die anytime so she avoids him. In the end, it’s Frodo who brings them together.

Try to Live, For Me.

Spoilers for A Quiet Place: Day one

Eric x Reader (no pronouns/descriptions, no use of y/n)

This also took me a little while. I went overboard again because I really like introspective writing. More to come!

For everyone who sent me a request, I see them. I promise I'm not ignoring you, I'm just a slow writer (and a bit of a perfectionist).

cw: light angst (with happy ending), mention of death, crying, some language.

“Come on!”

“Jump!”

“You’re almost there!”

People stand at the boat's edge in a large cluster, waving, leaning over the railing, and calling to someone on the shore. You start paying attention as the boat engines shut down, sputtering out, letting the sound of the water and the wind surround you. Getting up is slow, the muscles in your legs are tired and need that rest time, they groan and stretch as you move too fast; your body’s weariness fights with the spike of adrenaline that spurs you to life.

If the boat engines had been on, you wouldn’t have heard the splash. People surged forward trying to get a better look, through the tightly pressed bodies pieces of the shore are visible—the monsters crowd the pier, shrieking and clawing. Whoever jumped into the water just barely made it by the looks of things.

The person is pulled on board, their yellow cardigan sticks out among the grey, dull tones of everyone else’s clothes. The crowd parts quickly as a streak of white and black shoots past them…and right into your arms—you barely register the thing until you feel it clawing up your pants.

It’s a cat.

Bright green eyes look up at you curiously, the fur around its face is wet and clumped together. The little thing readjusts in your arms, getting more comfortable, you almost want to protest but it’s too cute and warm as it blinks up at you slowly.

The crowd is still parted, staring curiously between the cat and the man. His eyes, big brown and teary, catch yours, they dart from the cat to you a few times. He wants his cat back.

As you hold the cat close and step forward, the disappointment stings. The wet little fuzzball purrs in your arms. It’s the first comfort you’ve had since everything went to shit and you’re not ready to give that up yet.

The man reaches out and you gingerly pass him his cat. He hugs it close, burying his face in its black and white fur. He looks up at you again as you hover there, unsure what to do or say—you want to say something, smile, and sit and talk to this cute guy, but the engines start up again. Your focus shifts and the curious expression on your face is replaced with a scowl.

“Good cat.” You murmur before turning away and taking your spot in the back.

. . .

Time passes slowly as the sound of the boat engines lulls you to sleep, grey clouds blot out the sky, and any conversation on the boat deck can’t be heard above the sound of the marching engine and the wind as it whips around you. The bits of sleep you manage to snag are fitful and short, filled with screams and shrieks, long limbs, sharp teeth, and blood.

You jerk awake, reaching out blindly to fleeting shadows. It feels like you were talking to someone, just the faint impression that you were deep in a conversation when consciousness ripped it away.

Rubbing a hand over your face, you take a few deep breaths, then you catch the cat watching you. It’s bundled up in the yellow cardigan with the man’s arms around it. Something in those green eyes catches you and holds you there. A staring contest with a cat, how odd.

Eventually, the man’s eyes open and he sees you staring. You quickly look away, trying to act disinterested. From your peripheral vision, you can see he’s still watching you. Something foreign—a long-forgotten feeling—in your stomach flutters.

“Excuse me,” he starts hesitantly, “Do you know where we’re going?”

He’s English? The thought is pushed to the very back of your mind instantly.

The shore is to the boat’s port side, which means it’s following the coast. “Probably to one of the islands up the Sound, near Connecticut.”

He nods, looking a little lost, and shifts in place; the cat takes advantage of this and slips from his arms, it pads over to you, ears perked, its tail straight up in the air. It sniffs you once, deems you worthy, and climbs into your lap. Tiny white paws knead your pants a few times before they settle and lay down.

The man smiles. “He likes you.”

You gingerly pet the cat’s head, your hardened attitude cracks ever so slightly as it leans into your touch. “This is probably the friendliest cat I’ve ever met.”

“His name is Frodo, he’s very unique.”

As you keep petting Frodo, curiosity gets the better of you. “Where are you from?”

“Kent—England.”

“That’s the south-east side, right? Were you closer to London or more towards the coast?”

The man perks up a little. “Closer to London. Have you been?”

“No, I just…I like looking at maps.” What a weird thing to say. Why are you even saying this? “I’ve always wanted to travel to Europe and the UK though.”

“It’s beautiful there.” He sounds far off now.

You position yourself to face him better and the cat stretches out. Petting along its back, a loud purring erupts from its entire body. “What were you doing in New York?”

“Going to Law School.”

“Damn, ok Mr. Fancy Pants.” A crooked smile lifts one side of your face.

He laughs. “Hardly.”

“You should own that, not many people get accepted into Law School, which means you must be a brainiac or something. An attractive lawyer with an English accent could get away with anything here.”

It wins another smile from him, and he blushes a little. Despite yourself, it feels good to see it. You wouldn’t mind seeing it more often. His voice is nice, and his brown eyes are pretty and kind-looking.

“What about you, what do you do?”

“Oh.” You wave a hand. “I’m a chef.”

“Not bad.”

“I guess.”

“You don’t enjoy it?”

“No, I love it, but it’s not as fancy as being a lawyer.”

The cat stretches again, and for the first time since the world ended, you smile. You catch the man staring and look away quickly before you can put too much thought into it.

He leans over a little. “I think being a chef is very fancy.”

The smile stays. “Flatterer. What’s your name?”

“Eric. And you?”

You tell him as if you’re chatting with a friend. As if you haven’t seen more death than you normally would have in two lifetimes. As if everything is normal and the last three days weren’t spent clawing and dragging yourself through hell, fighting every inch for your goddamn life. The realization sits with you afterward as the Sound stretches out around the boat. It’s foolish to be this open with a random person, but as he looks at you with such unbridled warmth, the thought fades as quickly as it appears.

“So, when we get to this island are you going to cook for me?”

“For your sake, I hope not.” The smile returns easily. “When we get there are you going to recite all the New York laws you’ve learned? I could use something to fall asleep now that I don’t have a phone.”

He tries to hold back a wicked grin. “Would it be a surprise if I told you I’ve forgotten nearly all of them?”

“Eric, I’m never hiring you to be my lawyer. I hope we can remain friends though.”

“That is a crushing loss, but I’ll accept it.”

The boat ride continues like that. Eric makes you laugh, and you make him laugh too. It’s nice. You catch his eyes lingering at times when you look out over the water, when he looks off in the distance you stare back, memorizing his features no matter how many alarms ring in your mind.

You feel safe, your body relaxes, your mind wanders to things that aren’t survival. Your guard drops.

But it doesn’t last.

The first thing that gets your attention is when people start standing up and moving to the front of the boat. They quietly shuffle, wrapping themselves up, huddling in groups, talking. The boat’s foghorn blasts out twice, Eric glances at you before getting to his feet and picking up Frodo. He reaches a hand down to help you up.

Something twists in your gut as the sandy shoreline of the island comes into view. A small pier made of rickety planks that looks like it’s falling apart stands alone, reaching out to the boat among gently lapping waves.

Your exit point.

Everyone else seems excited, they gather their things and talk excitedly with smiles. Even Eric is smiling as he holds Frodo up to see the shore. He looks around and behind him to see you not by his side but towards the back of the boat.

A crewman shouts out: “Everyone goes to the main campsite mess hall. Big white building up the shore—a straight shot from the pier.”

People bustle across the boat ramp; Eric’s yellow cardigan is lost in the crowd as you continue to hang back. Something doesn’t let you move forward; something keeps your legs locked.

You don’t know this area. You can’t see past the trees; you don’t know what’s in the little buildings behind the mess hall. Survival instincts rush back, uninvited, you brace for something to come crashing through the buildings or the trees. The rush of people down the pier is noisy, their pounding feet hit the planks and the sound echoes across the water. You expect to hear screams or for the crowd to scatter. You expect the clearing to be filled with bodies any minute now.

“Hey, off the boat unless you want to go back to Manhattan.” The crewman chuckles darkly.

Fine. You’d take your chances with the trees.

. . .

People are waiting on the porch of the mess hall, the area they dropped you off is an old campsite with a few cabins scattered on the edge of the cleared area. They wear clean clothes, they aren’t covered in dirt, and their faces look well-rested. They’re shouting instructions to the crowd, something about cabins for families and tents or sleeping bags.

The crowd watches the people on the porch.

You watch the tree line.

And Eric watches you.

When he finally catches your eyes, he smiles that handsome, crooked smile. It’s an invitation for you to join him, to start this new life together.

But you turn away, stuffing the guilt and shame down and focusing on the survival mindset that’s already crept back into place. If you went with him, if you built a new life with him, how would you feel if he died the same as the others who didn’t make it to the boats? The ones whose bodies are now scattered on the streets of Manhattan.

It would break you. Simple as that.

. . .

Families are getting the cabins first and foremost. Pairs or groups of three are given tents. Everyone else gets sleeping bags. The clean, well-dressed woman had looked you over with a hint of pity as you answered her questions, and she checked them off on her clipboard.

“Any family with you?”

“No.”

“Did you arrive with anyone?”

“…No.”

“You don’t have anyone? You don’t know anyone?”

“No...”

She pauses, studying you. “I’m going to make an exception and give you a tent, you can set it up with the group. There are a few over there that have minor injuries, try to help them in the mornings.”

Eric had gotten a sleeping bag and was directed toward the mess hall with the others.

After the first night, he had come out looking worse than when he had gone in. His eyes were red, and he dragged his feet while Frodo padded next to him with a light step.

Of course, the cat would come over to you and rub against your legs. Eric trailed behind the fuzzy menace, despite how awful he looked he still greeted you with a smile.

Damnit.

“You got a tent. Very nice.”

“…Take it.”

“What?”

“I want you to have my tent, I’ll take your sleeping bag.”

“Uh…I don’t…”

You stand. “Eric, take the tent.”

“…Why? Would you rather sleep in the mess hall? I don’t recommend it, the others… they grieve at night.”

Damn his pleading brown eyes. Why couldn’t he make this easy on you?

“It’s fine. Please, take the tent. I’m going to sleep outside anyway.”

 “I can’t let you—”

“If you don’t take the tent, it will stay empty. Trust me when I say I’m more comfortable away from the tents.”

Eric struggles to accept your offer but won’t fight you—he looks too tired to argue. “Ok.”

Before he can say anything else, you turn away and head toward the mess hall.

. . .

They assign you to the kitchen. Somehow, it’s familiar and foreign at the same time. That’s fine with you, it gives you an excuse to get up before everyone else and avoid most meals when the groups get together and eat.

They always talk so loudly.

You get up early and go to bed late, helping during downtimes wherever you’re needed. Cooking takes up your early mornings, building cabins takes up your afternoons. In the evenings you sit and eat alone before returning to the kitchen to clean up and prepare for the next morning.

Sleeping outside isn’t bad either, the bonuses are worth it. Away from the rest, it’s quiet, only the chirping summer bugs can be heard. You can see the stars when you look up and you can watch the tree line when you can’t sleep, which is almost every night.

Frodo found you working in the kitchen and now comes to see you every morning, waiting just outside the back door. You start leaving the back door open, sneaking Frodo little scraps of food when no one is looking. And then, the other night, he found your sleeping spot. He says goodnight to you every night now.

Occasionally, you’ll have a nightmare—a memory of Manhattan, it’s always a memory—you’ll wake up struggling, suffocating in your sleeping bag to find Frodo watching you. On those nights he always cuddles with you and stays until morning. Those mornings you take him back to Eric. It’s like the little fuzz ball knows you’ll do it too as he jaunts across the lawn, looking back and waiting for you to catch up.

Eric always looks so happy to see you.

“He uh…he was with me last night—I promise I’m not trying to steal him, he just…”

“Found you?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s good at that.” He pauses. “Did you sleep last night?”

You sigh, rubbing your neck. “I’m fine.”

“That wasn’t my question.” he gently corrects. “You look tired…”

“Frodo helped.”

“If something is bothering you, you can always—”

“No, I just…it’s different here. I’m not used to…”

Eric waits patiently, as always, with kind and gentle eyes. It makes you want to scream.

You shake your head. “We’re having mashed potatoes later.” And then you’re gone.

No matter how much you avoid or give him your best scowl, he still tries to worm his way into your heart. Most people here are trying to do the same thing. They offer you food and water when taking a break from building cabins. They call you by name when they see you around. They invite you to eat at their table during dinner—you decline as curtly as possible, they always understand. Most of them came with families or friends, and many of them have made new friends. All of them have someone else.

They’re real people. You’re still stuck in Manhattan.

You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for those things to find their way here, for everything to come crumbling down again. When people invite you to join them it only makes you angry—they’re acting like this is normal. It’s not. Less than 50 miles away, on the mainland, those things are still crawling around, they could appear here any day now.

This could all end, and it would end quickly.

When you think about this, your mind goes to Eric and Frodo. Your mind traces out how you might be able to get them out and what the best possible way to do that would be. Then you catch yourself—you didn’t survive to this point by being worried over others.

. . .

“May I sit?”

It’s Henri, a man from the same boat who’s taken charge more than the fancy clipboard people ever could. His family made it to the boat with him and he’s been the most vocal about how lucky everyone is and how they should make the best of things. He keeps people’s spirits high, which means he’s going to try and talk to you about—

He sits anyway, even though you haven’t said a word. Your unfinished dinner sits on your lap. Maybe one of the kids will want it.

“I notice you, sitting alone most dinners. Why don’t you join the group?”

“They’re too loud.”

His expression changes. “I understand. You were also from Manhattan?”

“…Yeah.”

“Eric, he has only nice things to say about you. He cares for you.”

Your attention perks up, you try not to let that bother you.

“He says you may be still getting over everything.”

When you offer no response, Henri continues. “You avoid everyone because you think those creatures will appear and our way of life will return to survival, is that right?”

“Sure.”

He nods. “I’m also cautious, every night I worry for my family, for the good people here… but I cannot let those fears control me or stop me from living again. Fear kept you alive back then, but it’s time to let go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“If I let myself and somehow this all…ends. I won’t be able to—to keep going.”

“Would you stop yourself from living based on that? We are safe here—”

“For now.”

Henri sighs. “It’s hard to let your guard down. I want to remain strong for my family, but my son needs a father who opens up and learns how to live again. Eric is the same—he continues to hold hope for you, even when you turn him away. He wants to share this life with you.”

“How often do you talk to Eric?” You ask, growing defensive. Henri sounds like he knows everything. Shit. He probably does.

“I see how he looks at you.” He leans a little closer. “And I see how you watch him sometimes. How you guard him from imaginary monsters—how you gave your tent to him, and how you feed his cat, Frodo.”

You shake your head. This is too much. “Eric will move on. I was just being nice.”

“Your mind is still in Manhattan,” Henri says, standing and wiping his pants. “No one but you can change that. Think of all the people here who know you. They’ve let go; They are happy. You deserve to be happy too.” He walks off, leaving your mind spinning.

All the people that know me?

. . .

“Here’s some water.” Marci hands you a bottle with a smile as you sit on a long wooden plank. “Nice job on the cabin, it’s coming along. Oh, my son made you this.” The woman hands you a crudely made drawing on a crumpled paper. Not many crayons made the trip, so it’s only got blue and green colors. It shows the little boy—Will, you think his name is—Marci and their dog in front of a mansion.

You huff, it’s the closest thing to laughter you’ll allow. “I’m afraid it won’t be this big.”

“He knows that, he’s just really excited to sleep under a roof again.”

You fold the page up, slipping it into your back pocket. “Happy to help.”

A man passes Marci, and she starts talking to him excitedly. You take the opportunity to stand and slip away—it’s nearly 3 o’clock, and dinner will begin in a few hours.

A familiar streak of white and black joins you, purring against your leg. “Hey, Frodo.”

The cat looks up at you with sharp green eyes, stopping in front of you.

“No more snacks, I already gave you some earlier.”

Frodo meows, loudly. It’s uncharacteristic of him.

“What?”

Another meow.

“Are you really that upset over the snack? Geeze cat, fine, you can have a little bit.”

You move around him, still heading towards the back door of the mess hall kitchen, but he stays completely still…and meows again.

Looking back, you frown. “What is it? Why are you being so noisy today?”

Frodo takes a few steps toward the tents, then pauses and looks back to meow.

You’re paying attention now. Frodo never does this. “You want me to follow you, is that it?”

The cat turns, tail held low, and continues toward the tents. You’re quick to follow—it’s midday, everyone should be up, almost no one hangs around the tents until it gets dark, and the lanterns are lit.

What makes it worse is as Frodo weaves through the tents, he heads straight for Eric’s.

The tent flap is mostly closed, but the fuzzball slips in the crack at the bottom. Before you pull the flap back, your mind runs wild with possibilities. All of them equally grim. All are laced with the thought: What will I do if he’s gone?

But you pull the flap up to see Eric leaning over while he sits on his cot with his head in his hands. He holds a piece of paper that’s been crumpled up and weathered. You see thin, cursive writing on it.

Frodo sits just inside the entrance. You motion to the cat wordlessly. Do your job!

It blinks up at you and doesn’t move.

Which means it’s up to you.

“Eric?”

He sits up, sniffling and furiously wiping his eyes with a sleeve. “Oh, hi. I—I didn’t see you there.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He gingerly folds up the piece of paper, carefully avoiding your eyes.

This is not your forte, but Frodo led you here because he thought you could help, so you’ll do your best.

“What’s that?” You ask, coming over to sit next to him on his cot. Your movements are slow and careful as if you don’t want to spook him.

He glances at the paper. “It’s a note, from a dear friend of mine. She…she didn’t make it to the boat.” He holds it out to you.

Taking it from him you open it back up and scan the lines. It’s beautiful and there are hints of prose used, all written with neat handwriting.

“What was her name?”

His voice cracks with emotion. “Sam.”

Folding the paper back up carefully, you put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry Eric.”

He leans into your touch. “Me too, but I’m thankful to have met her.”

He wipes his eyes again. A simple realization hits you like a truck—Eric has lost someone, yet he continues to go on, he cherishes those memories. He doesn’t stop himself from making new ones or holding back, he embraces life even after experiencing loss. Not to mention that he’s in a different country, everything he knows is across the ocean—and there’s no way for him to return.

“Are you alright?” he asks, looking at you with furrowed brows.

“I…” You swallow back a lump in your throat. “I owe you an apology.”

“What for?” He turns slightly to face you, his knee bumping into yours. The touch lingers, but you don’t move away.

“I’ve been cold to you since we got here.”

Eric gently snickers. “Since the boat ride, I’ve been wondering if you didn’t like me anymore. It’s not a big deal—”

“I like you a lot. That was part of the problem. I like you so much that I’m terrified of losing you.”

His joking smile drops a little, giving way to something more serious, something more vulnerable.

You continue, trying to wipe the encroaching scowl off your face. Being vulnerable and enjoying life is not a weakness.

“On the boat, I felt safe. Here, I struggle—I keep thinking we’re going to be attacked at any moment.”

Eric gently takes your hand, it twitches at first but relaxes when the warmth spreads from his palm to yours.

“I still feel like I’m still in Manhattan. I don’t want to lose everything again. I can’t lose everything again; I can’t handle that. So, I…I just don’t get close.”

Eric touches your cheek and brings your head up to look at him. “You are so strong. Ever since I first met you on the boat, I knew that. Do you feel stronger when you’re alone?”

You think over his question for a moment—of all the nights you’ve spent jumping at shadows, wrestling with nightmares and ‘what ifs’, of all the times you wanted to sing along with the others as they sat by the bonfire at night.

“I feel prepared…but, ultimately, no.”

“There’s strength in community and kindness. The others recognize how strong you are, and they still call you by name, they still offer you a space next to them. You might not want that, but I know you’ve seen it.”

“They’re very nice.” You admit. “I always thought it was easier alone.”

“I disagree. I think things are harder alone. I think things are harder without someone to lean on when you have trouble, or when you’re scared, and you doubt yourself. I don’t want you to sleep alone in the woods anymore—I want you to start relying on me.”

You nod holding back tears as you get absorbed in Eric’s kindness. “Ok.”

As Eric leans his forehead to yours, things don’t seem as bleak anymore. It’s a new feeling. Some ideas span months in the future vs. wondering what will happen tomorrow. The smiling faces of others are no longer pushed to the back of your mind, making noise doesn’t seem like a crime anymore.

It will take time to unlearn the survival mindset and truly let yourself live again. But you have Eric and Frodo to help you now.

And months from now, as you lay in Eric’s warm arms whispering—not out of necessity, but for fun—with Frodo sleeping in the gap between legs, you think back to all the nights in the woods or all the dinners when you ate alone. This is nice—fuck it, this is great.

Eric kisses you in the chilly Autumn air every chance he gets. You play with the kids as they grow astonishingly fast. You and Eric build your new home from scratch, and he carries you across the threshold when it’s finished. When you share a bed—a real bed—Eric holds you and protests when you need to get up in the morning.

You’re happy.

You’re finally alive again.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Lens Flare

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Description: Over the past three months, your career has grown by leaps and bounds. Yet at the same time, you can't help feeling dissatisfied. A lot of your feelings stem from what you did the last time you saw him. Jake Seresin. Lieutenant Jake Seresin. It had been fun, in the hangar, under the dead of night - passionate and hot. So too had been the video you filmed and the pictures you'd snapped. But hindsight, well, maybe there is a reason why they say "Hindsight is Twenty-Twenty". Because Jake hasn't called, despite how badly you want him to. A new assignment in North Island might have the potential to change everything for Jake and our Shutterbug, including how they approach everything they hold dear.

Warnings: Once again, this is just some porn with plot. The feral plot bunnies ran away with me, I fear.

Word Count: 8502

A/N: Hiya everyone! I'm baaack! Enjoy this sequel to my fic Photo Finish. It's just as smutty and gorgeous as the last one!

This fic is brought to you all by the constant support of @horseshoegirl, @sarahsmi13s and @desert-fern. You're all my heroes and I love you to bits for keeping me from ditching this story before it even started! I couldn't have written it without you!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

An old photography teacher of yours once told you never to submit photos with lens flares to any publication, magazine or contest. He considered lens flares the biggest mistake for a rookie photographer. He’d declared, quite adamantly in front of your entire class, using your pictures as examples, how lens flares made photos look cheap and low quality. Given his dislike of the trick of light, he’s also taught you a plethora of tricks to prevent them. Over the many, many years since you left his class, you’ve started to relax and deviate from the rigid rules of photography he once taught you. For a large portion of your career, you've been photographing subjects which cannot be posed in a studio, which helps. Every snick and whir of your camera feels like you are letting go of rules and embracing your art.

You’ve always heard wildlife photography has a tendency to relax photographers' attitudes. It’s a truth you’re very thankful you had the chance to experience. After all, there are no rules when it’s just you, your camera and what feels like the entire world a hair's-breadth away from your camera lens. It’s hard to be frustrated with the sun glancing across your camera lens when it highlights fox kits gamboling in dewy spring grass. Or elk on a frost-bitten winter morning with clouds of their breath dissipating into the clear air. Those pictures were once-in-a-lifetime shots, perfect in their imperfection and richer with the sparkling halos of light.

Being back in New York after years of traveling has made you appreciate the photographs you took even more. Now you feel like you can fully appreciate the wilderness in them. New York is wild in an entirely different way. It’s louder, greyer, more populous, yet just as vibrant. In New York, you’ve been able to capture human nature, snapping minuscule interactions between people who are always in a hurry and always moving. But you also have to work to make enough money to fund your passions. Not having to travel helped bring some stability to your passions. But of all of the things you thought you'd be photographing, fashion models and clothes were never an option. In a way, photographing fashion and fashion models is capturing another kind of wild animal in your lens sights. Models and designers are wholly proprietary and protective over what they consider theirs, whether their clothing or their aesthetic appearance. You’ve had to shoot and reshoot, as well as touch up your photos more than you've ever had to before. Of course, in this case, your primary objective is to make the models and the clothes they are wearing look otherworldly and incredible. 

At first, the thrill of doing something new was alluring and exciting. But after a year, trapped in New York City, doing the same thing and working with the same people day in and day out, you can’t help but miss wildlife photography. It's like a persistent ache below your breast bone, something calling you back to the life you lived before. You're missing traveling in arid deserts and verdant forests even more now. And then the US Navy came calling. Now, while you miss the wilderness, you think you might just miss something else, more.

It’s late, half-past three in the early hours of the morning, and you’re sitting out on the balcony attached to your overpriced shoebox of an apartment. You’ve found yourself sitting out here more and more as the summer heat turns into the cool of fall. Your balcony is so small there’s only room for a single chair, and your feet are propped up on the wrought iron railing. New York’s the city which never sleeps and the crackle and groan of the city resonates around you. Your oldest camera, a Canon you bought in college with the pennies and dollars you’d saved from tips earned from waitressing, sits on your lap. All night, you’ve been trying and failing to chase away how unsettled you’ve been feeling by peering through the viewfinder and trying to see things from a different perspective. 

But it hasn’t worked. You've been feeling discomfited of late, unsettled and restless. Maybe your listlessness has something to do with your next assignment. You can’t lie, not even to yourself no matter how hard you try. It has everything to do with your next assignment. You should be excited. You should be asleep, because at least if you were asleep, the time would pass sooner. For once, you will not be photographing a new designer collection. In the morning, you're flying to San Diego to take pictures at North Island Naval Base for a follow-up piece sanctioned by the US Navy. Your team is joining you, which should be a comfort, albeit slight and slim. There will be more planes to photograph and possibly shots you can take from within the cockpit or from up in the air.

It took three months to publish the article on the US Navy’s newest hotshot aviation squadron. There had been countless revisions and rounds of approval with the US Navy's Office of Public Relations to greenlight the endeavor. It's been exactly the same amount of time since you met the Dagger Squadron, too - only three months after you edited the photographs, focusing maybe a little too much on one face in particular. Three months after you took the biggest risk of your life, professionally and personally. Three months after you made a sex tape with a client. It doesn’t help that he was a memorable client, too - and how you haven’t been able to forget him.

It's only been two weeks since the magazine hit newsstands with your picture of the Daggers in all their finery near one of the jets on the front cover. Everywhere you go, it seems you see their faces - his face. Your phone has been ringing off the hook ever since. Everyone wants you to take professional portraits of their clients. But your phone has never had the voice you so desperately want to hear on the other end of the line. It's a nationally distributed magazine, after all, and like everything nowadays, published both physically and digitally. The magazine had also mailed special copies to each member of the squadron which was your subject. So he has to have seen it. So why hasn't he called? It's the one question on your mind. It may be the only question on your mind, but it's far from the only thought in your mind. 

Chances are, he doesn’t want to talk to you at all. After all, why would he want to?

You couldn't silence the thoughts if you tried - and you have tried, repeatedly. Getting drunk made you maudlin, going out had you seeing his face in every stranger’s and getting laid had made you wish you were with him rather than anyone else. Over and over again you’ve found yourself thinking about those last few moments with him, agonizing over every detail, from the kisses and touches to the last time you saw him. Maybe you hadn’t been entirely clear in your note to him. You can recall the note as if you wrote it yesterday, the note you'd affixed to the flash drive you handed him.

Sure, you told him to call you when he was in New York next. But really, you wanted him to call you, period. Or text you. Something, anything to show you’re lingering in his memory in the same way he lingers in yours. You thought your dalliance had been memorable enough. You hoped you were memorable enough. After all, it's not every day you let a man fuck you up against his jet and record it, forget a man you’ve known only for a few days. Maybe it’s a little silly how attached you’ve gotten to him, given the short time frame, after what should have been completely meaningless sex. 

But it’s not meaningless anymore, at least not to you, after how many times you've seen the video since you last saw him. Your camera hadn’t hidden a single thing when you made your little home movie all those nights ago. You’ve seen how his hands had been gentle, his eyes soft. Your entire countenance had been beckoning, beguiling in the throes of passion, needy in a way you’ve never let yourself be before with anyone else. He’s also spoiled you for any other man on the planet - or at least in New York. You haven’t hit the same heights since him, and a part of you is sure you never will again. And now you have to enter the lion’s den, venture right into enemy territory with your head held high and only a camera to shield your too-hungry gaze.

A thump on the railing drags you out of your reverie. Your neighbor’s escape-artist black cat makes himself at home on the railing, paws flexing as his tail lashes through the humid night air. Like you’re in a dream, you lift up the camera and peer through the viewfinder. Tonight, everything seems to be coming back to lens flares. The neon lights fracture in your camera lens, softening the visage of the cat on the railing, green eyes luminescent. With reflexes born of years of wildlife photography, partially stunted after nearly a year of fashion photography, you depress the shutter with a soft snick and a near-silent whir. What you’re left with is a long exposed image - neon lights blurring in the background as one shines behind the cat’s head. Even his fur is blurred, only green eyes in focus, piercing into your soul. It’s perfect, as expected, and you hope it’s an omen for the days to come while you’re in San Diego.

Green eyes, different from those of your neighbor’s cat, haunt you, even more, the following day as you pile out of one of the minivans the studio rented for you and your team, as well as all of your equipment, on the tarmac at North Island. The humid, sticky air stinks of jet fuel and salt water. The wind brushes past you, snatching at your hair and ripping your sun hat right off your head. It's hot as it brushes by, providing no relief to the insistent heat.

Your team just laughs as you chase, bedraggled and exhausted, after your hat. The wind pushes you towards the hangars at the end of the tarmac, colossal doors thrown open while rows of jets stand gleaming. For the first time, you think you understand why Jake is so in love with being up in the air in his jet, how close to the elements he must be with adrenaline coursing through his system. You raise the camera resting against your chest, leaving your hat to fly where it wants, because you have to capture this.

When your camera focuses, you start snapping with abandon, capturing the sun-drenched metal and heat waves rising off of the pavement.  You’re not sure what pictures the editors will select to go with the article the journalist is going to write. Regardless, you’re stealing the time to take some filler shots now, when it’s bright out still, and blindingly golden outside. Your team is far behind you, still clustered by the cars, as you trail between the shining metal hawks, cockpits closed and emblazoned with names and callsigns. Your heart stutters in your chest when you see his jet, the text dark and fresh, announcing he’s been promoted. So, he's still operating out of Naval Air Station North Island. 

Faintly, you can hear voices emanating from one of the open hangars, so you creep closer, your old Canon camera clutched to your chest like it can protect you. Twenty-four of the US Navy's best aviators are saturated in gold, settled in creaking plastic chairs. Jake’s at the podium, laser pointer in hand, completely relaxed as he talks about things you couldn’t understand if you tried. The light glints across his face, catching angelically on the burnished strands of his hair. A singular fluffy lock has broken free of his hair gel’s hold, trailing softly across his forehead. It makes your fingers ache to push it back into place. But you can’t, because you won’t interrupt or embarrass him. So you take pictures instead, breathlessly, silently, framing the aviators limned in gold like they’re deities waiting to go to war.

You’re not sure when it happens, but he sees you - bright green eyes colliding with yours, a nearly imperceptible frown creasing his brow before the skin smooths. He doesn’t look happy to see you. In a way, it makes sense. You were just a one-night stand, something sexy to indulge in - not someone he'd want to keep forever. The look lances through you, skewering you in place as the wind and sun stick your blouse to your back. He doesn’t acknowledge you but for one curiously blank look, and you’re mortified as you walk silently back to your crew, who are now grouped around the jets in awe.

As expected, Adam and Lea, your stylists extraordinaire, are already scribbling away. Lea's flicking through the tablet in her hands. If you were a betting woman, you'd bet good money they are already planning outfits to take advantage of the blue, gold and white theme of North Island.

“Hey, Boss!” Amy, your assistant, is nearly bouncing in place with her excitement. You're not sure how she's so energetic despite the heat and the hours of travel. “Our liaison should be joining us soon. They'll give us a tour of the base and then show us where we'll be setting up shop this week.”

She doesn’t notice how frozen your smile feels and how mechanic your nods are. All you can think about is Jake. He must have known, right? What are the chances he didn’t know you were coming to North Island to take more pictures? There must have been some briefing or notice informing the aviators why you're here. After all, you’re here to photograph the Dagger Squadron. Then why was his face so blank when he saw you earlier? Thinking about him is driving you crazy, but you're not sure you can stop. All you want is to know whether he could ever feel as strongly for you as you do for him.

When your liaison walks up ten minutes later, you’re pleasantly surprised to see you have not one liaison, but two. Neither of your Navy appointed liaisons is Jake, something which you should have expected, but you were still hoping for regardless. Lieutenant Commanders Trace and Floyd are smiling from ear-to-ear as they greet your team by name. Lea and Katie seem especially enthused at seeing the soft-spoken bespectacled WSO again. Lieutenant Commander Trace is her same unflappable, cool, collected self. Her presence and dry sense of humor has you in stitches as you and your team follow behind her like a herd of ducklings. There are familiar faces around what seems like every corner of the base. But none of the faces are the face you still want to see so desperately.

Jake Seresin shows up again as you’re oooh-ing and ahh-ing over the big hanger, burnished yellow, orange, red and pink in the light of the sun. You’ve got your camera up to your face, lips pursed in concentration, eyes squinting as you peer myopically through the viewfinder. It's his voice you hear first. Just hearing it, with the same rough timber, makes you remember what he told you, before you fell into his arms and headfirst into this situation with Jake Seresin.

God, baby. You killed me this morning. Wearing that pretty little skirt and those high heels. I wanted to bend you over and fuck you until you were leaking my cum.

It’s not a good sign, is it? How you’re unable to even look at his face without giving yourself away. The evidence of your feelings must be on your face, which feels uncomfortably hot. The heat is completely unrelated to San Diego's sky-high temperature and you shy away from eye-contact when you pivot and face the rest of your team, and the trio of Lieutenant Commanders. The sight of him hits you in your solar plexus, robbing your breath and leaving your palms uncomfortably clammy.

“Hi.” 

It’s a quiet greeting, your voice swallowed by the sight of him. It feels like your tongue is two times bigger than it should be in your mouth, unwieldy as you force it to move like you want it to. He doesn’t hear you, or even acknowledge you standing there waiting for him to notice you. Standing there, you finally realize how big a gulf there is between you and Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin.

It's a sharp contrast. He's standing there in his khaki uniform crisp and new, blond hair dark at his temples from the shower he must have taken. In contrast, your shirt is covered in wrinkles, your hair is frizzy with flyaways escaping your braid and your worn jeans are butter soft but have definitely seen better days. He ignores you for the rest of the afternoon. It hurts, of course it does, when he doesn’t notice you in the same way you notice him. But you have a job to do. You can’t - you won’t - jeopardize your career for a man, not even a man as beautiful as he is.

The now-trio of Lieutenant Commanders shows you the Officer’s ready room, where you'll be setting up for the interviews. Each member of your team is also given a badge on a lanyard allowing you limited access to certain areas of base. Soon enough, you're left to survey the ready room and prepare your team for the days ahead.

“I know it's been a long day already for you all.” Your smile is a little wry as you continue, “It's been a long day for me too. All I want is to unwind and get out of these heels!”

You let the scattered chuckles from your team peter out before continuing.

“Before I can do so, we need to sync up on what we're going to be focusing on over the next few days.”

“First and foremost on our list? Getting pictures of the Daggers while they are being interviewed. The interviewer is an old friend of Admiral Kazansky's and will be spotlighting each of the Daggers. As a part of the interview, we will be expected to get photos of each member of the squadron in their flight suits, their khaki uniforms and their dress uniforms.”

You raise your hands up to stall any questions. “I'm aware this isn't exactly the type of photo shoot we're used to. Katie, you’ll be on hand to help with their make-up during the interview. We're keeping it light and subtle. For the interview photos, we want the aviator's uniforms and medals to shine.” 

“Seb and Kris - the two of you will be measuring the light levels in this room during various times of day and setting up artificial studio lights as necessary. I'll also need you both to check on the lighting situation in the big hangar we were in with the desks and the United States flag on the wall.”

“Adam and Lea, it may not sound like it yet, but I will need you both on your A-games. By special request of Admiral Mitchell, we've been asked to stage a beach bonfire. He wants this interview to echo the beginnings of this squadron. They became a team on the beach and now they are a family. I'm thinking we need cozy textiles and bright winter-toned colors. I'll leave the color palette to you both. All I ask is we have a cohesive palette for the squadron as a whole. As always, measurements for the aviators are included in this dossier. One of the minivans is yours. Our office in San Diego knows to expect you both.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when Adam and Lea make a beeline for the doors as soon as you’re done with them. You’ve worked with them both long enough to know how they operate. They’ll be downtown and looking through the clothing on display before you can blink.

“Ames, while I run point with the admirals,  you'll be sourcing the beachfront we can use for the bonfire. I'm not sure who you'll need permission from, but there might be a bar owner who can give us permission.”

Before long, it feels like you're the only island of calm in the entirety of base. Seb and Kris wander in and out of the room, measuring the light and carting in and out lighting equipment. Even the teleconference you have with the Admirals, both of whom are in Hawaii, due to fly back in a couple of days, goes smoothly.

Over the next few days, you find yourself building on the rapport you created with 6 of the aviators in the Dagger squad in the following days. You also meet the other half of the Dagger Squad. But at the same time you are building a relationship with the other Daggers, it feels like you're losing the relationship you once had with Jake.

The only time you see him during the four days of interviews and pictures is when he is being interviewed. Even then, he spends more time chatting with Amy and Katie than you. Even when you address him directly, he's silent, content to play puppet to your puppet master and then disappearing to an area off base you don't have access to. It hurts, and you’re starting to get weird looks from the other Daggers. They’re all too polite, or too cognizant of their positions in the Navy to ask you any prying questions. At least, until the bonfire.

It hadn’t been difficult to organize at all, in the end. All Amy needed to do was speak to the proprietress of The Hard Deck, a little bar a few miles off base. Penny had been more than happy to hand over the usage of the beach outside her bar for the night. The combination of good food, even better alcohol, and of course, no interviews relaxed the Daggers enough for you to get the candid shots the magazine was looking for. Halos of light spark across your screen with each snap you take - lens flares sparking to life, again and again.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Jake?”

The question makes you jump and nearly chuck your lens cap into the bonfire. You fumble awkwardly as you try to collect your composure.

“Lieutenant Commander Trace. What can I do for you?”

Your voice is a little shaky as you wheel around and face her.

“You don’t have to do anything for me!” She’s smiling at your discomfort, something wicked curling her lips. “And anyways, didn’t I tell you to call me Natasha three months ago?”

 You’re smiling despite yourself at her antics.

“It’s good to see you again, Natasha.”

“Forget about me. Why aren’t you talking to Jake?” 

You should have known she wouldn’t be able to let it go.

“Three months ago, you could barely keep your eyes off of him and the same was true of him. He went out of his way to chat you up every chance he got. And now? Something happened between the two of you after we all left the hangar, and now neither of you is talking. You were fine when you showed us the pictures the next day. But now?”

You shrug, lifting your camera up to snap another couple of pictures of the squadron having fun.

“Oh my god. I can’t with the two of you. Either you walk over there and talk to him, or I’m going to get him to talk to you!”

You grab her arm before she can march away.

“I can’t, Natasha.”

You try grabbing for her, but before you can, she’s already gone. His eyes cut over to yours the more she speaks, and you’re not sure you like the way he’s glancing over at you. Your heart is in your throat as he skirts around the bonfire and sidles up to you.

“What are you doing here? Natasha has this crazy idea you’re heads over heels for me, but the way you’ve been acting says differently. So what are you doing here?”

His voice is so quiet you can barely hear it over the crackling bonfire. His face doesn’t change its expression once the entire time he’s speaking to you, barring one tiny, blink-and-you-miss-it smirk. Once again, you have to thank Adam and Lea for their work because the Lieutenant Commander looks good enough to eat in his sweater and butter-soft jeans. But you know he's not happy to see you. The disappearing act he's been pulling ever since he saw you outside the hangar four days ago is proof.

“You know what I’m doing here, Jake.” 

“You're taking photos for another article. I know, I know.”

His smirk deepens, eyes twinkling maddeningly as he prowls closer to you.

“But between you and me, it’s just the official excuse, isn't it?” He tugs at a strand of your hair, reeling you closer to him. “But unofficially, I bet you want more of me. Maybe you want to make yourself another home movie? See my handprint on your ass cheeks again?”

His words have heat rising to your face, never mind how your skin already feels too toasty from how you've been huddling near the bonfire all night to keep yourself warm. Form-fitting dresses are not beachwear, especially not in late November. But you’re dressing to impress, wearing sharp blazers and business frocks. Add to the dress the camera and purse you’ve got over your shoulder, and you’re definitely not equipped for the beach.

“How do you know what I want?”

Your voice is thready and light, and your head spins the closer he gets to you. It's weird. You've been aching to have him this close to you all week, but now, when he is actually close to you again, you feel like it's too much, like he's too much. Every night in your hotel room, you've been coaching yourself to ignore him. You’ve had to in order to compartmentalize and be professional while on base. Yet, after only a few minutes in his presence, all your defenses are shredded like tissue paper.

“Because you're looking at me like this.”

Wafts of fragrant wood smoke drift by you and him as you stand mere inches away from each other. You can’t refute his statement. Not even a little bit, not even at all. You've never been able to mask your emotions, wearing your heart on your sleeve and your feelings in the pursed set of your mouth and the raise of your eyebrows. But you’re still not sure what you can say. If he’d propositioned you with the same vulnerable look in his eyes the first day you were in North Island, when he first saw you again, you would have folded like a cheap lawn chair. Then, you probably would have been more than content to pass on your expensive hotel room and make his lonely base apartment a little warmer. But he didn’t, and you’re not sure you can take the risk anymore.

Jake’s shoulders hunch, sinking into the impossibly soft cashmere of the sweater at your lack of response.

“I…” His smirk flattens, something like his Hangman mask taking its place. His shoulders never drop past his ears the longer you stand there with him at arm’s reach and pretend like you’re having a blast at this beach photoshoot turned bonfire party.

“I’ve read this all wrong, haven’t I?”

His sigh is gusty and almost too loud. “I was waiting for you to say something, because I’ve been dying to see you again. But then you ran away when you were taking pictures of the Top Gun class. Afterward, I - I didn’t know how to say I missed you, which is weird, I know. We only knew each other for a singular night.”

If your jaw isn’t on the floor already, you know it will be soon. Already, you’ve been getting too many questioning glances from your team and the Dagger Squadron. Then there is Natasha’s well-meaning meddling from a few minutes ago. Even the admirals have glanced over every once in a while at you and the normally cocky Lieutenant Commander standing in near silence. It’s not a conscious thought which has you whirling around in the silky sand and snagging a hand into his sleeve. You’re not sure why you’re doing it. All you know is if you’re having this out now, you need to have it out in private where it will not be injurious to your career or his.

Thankfully, Jake doesn't fight you as you pull him towards a corner of the parking lot. Your face feels flushed, and your chest heaves with panic at the thought someone could know what you and Jake did.

“I…” 

You cover his mouth with your hand, pretending the feeling of his skin on your hands doesn't burn, like you’re not completely aware of the masculine heat emanating from his skin. For several long moments, you stand in the shadows between two pick-up trucks in the parking lot. Each of your muscles is tense, waiting for someone to realize you've disappeared with Jake Seresin, of all people. You don’t want to think about the possibilities they were assuming. The prickling, uneasy sensation doesn't pass with the moments but does fade a little.

“What was that about, huh?”

You just glare in response.

“I thought it was better to have this conversation where we were less likely to be overheard, is all.” 

Your voice is prim, and your nose is tipped upward. It's obvious Jake doesn't feel the same way you do about this conversation, if he’s asking you questions like this.

“C'mon, sugar. If you wanted to let me down, you could have just said it by the bonfire. I promise I won't harass you.” His brow is furrowed as he thinks through all the implications of your statement. “Then or now.”

“I…” You fling your hands upwards, feeling this sudden urge to rage at the stars above you. How have things gotten so twisted? In your head and between you and Jake? 

“I don't want to let you down, Jake.”

You growl, then, because you know what you feel, but the words aren't coming out of your mouth the right way. He's patiently waiting for you to figure it out, lips pressed into a thin line, and green eyes scorching through you.

“I’m not rejecting you, Jake. When I came to North Island Naval Base and saw you standing in front of the lectern, I wanted you to smile when you saw me. I wanted some indication you felt the same way I did. I also wanted to kiss you, but it wouldn’t have helped then.”

You're smiling again, just a slight curve to your lips, a smile Jake is mirroring.

“Then you pretended I didn't exist. You pretended I was just someone you worked with before. Not someone who you were intimate with. Not someone whose life you changed with your stupid smile and your piercing eyes and your big, gentle hands. I…” 

To your embarrassment, you're sniffling and fighting back tears. “I didn't know why, or how to deal with it, so I just pushed back all my feelings. I pretended the same thing you did, and tried to ignore how much it hurt.”

“Fuck.” The quiet expletive echoes around you. “I messed this up, didn't I?”

He's pacing now, back and forth in front of you, shoes sliding through the gravel as he marches. He's ruffling his hair, face scrunched up in anguish at your words.

“I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I've watched our video so many times, I know my favorite parts. Fuck, sweetheart, I even took the picture of your ass with my handprints on it with me when we were deployed a month ago. I was nearly given so many demerits because of how hot that picture is.”

Your heart seems like it’s going to burst out of your chest, beating as hard as it is. 

“So why didn’t you call?” The same plaintive, sad tone is in your voice again.

“What could I have said?” He’s finally stopped pacing back and forth at least. He flings his hands out from his hips “Sweetheart, I want you, I need you. I wish I could fly to New York right now to taste you again?”

You have to snicker at the sarcastic, sardonic note in his voice. 

“It’s a little melodramatic, but I would have taken it.” 

Just as quickly as you snicker, the laugh peters away into a gentle sigh. “All you had to do was tell me you missed me, Jake. All I wanted was for you to tell me you wanted to see me again.”

“Would it have mattered if I did?” 

He’s stepped closer again, close enough you can feel the heat of his skin against yours. One of his big hands cradles your jaw as he looms over you.

“I asked you a question, pretty girl.” There’s a smirk on his face as he ghosts his lips over yours.

“Why would my answer matter then?” You’re not sure where the sass is coming from, but it’s making Jake smirk even more. “Knowing the decision you made?”

Thankfully, you don’t have to think of a response with a brain wholly occupied by the man drawing you into his arms. You melt into the kiss like it's something visceral you've been missing. His hair still feels the same against the pads of your fingers, golden silk, as you wrap your arms around his neck. He still tastes like you remember, too, cinnamon and smoky spice intermingling on your tongue as he licks into your mouth. Your heart sings when he gently positions your camera so it isn’t crushed between the two of you.

You whimper when he pulls away, chasing after his mouth like you're addicted to it. He still kisses like he flies, you note dimly, thoughts far away. The car at your back is cool, the metal searing into your skin as the sun has long since set. But the cold temperature of the car has nothing on the man crowding you up against it. His eyes are lidded, gaze hot as he takes in the sight of you. The dual temperatures are enough to make you shudder.

“Look at you, darling.” His hands are just as hot as his gaze as he trails his hands down your sides. “A single kiss, and you’re aching for me.”

You can’t deny the effects this man has on you. In truth, the time for denial would have been some time before you made the movie at the hangar. You’re so far down this path there isn’t a way to turn back. 

“You want me just as much.” 

Your voice is quieter than the rush of the waves, yet loud enough you can see the impact as they hit his ears. He’s still just as fit as he was three months ago, all hard, hot muscle as he presses up against you, cedar and plum wafting through the air off his skin. You can feel the jut of him against your hip as he muscles you even further against the car, spreading you out like a meal he wants to eat. He transfixes you with a glare when he pulls away, even as he smirks at your breathy moan. You watch, eyes lidded, as he opens the truck door and sets your things on the broad seat. You’re panting with need when he comes back to you, body shivering as he leans into you again. His hands find their home against the curve of your waist, fingers still nimble as they focus on tracing your curves in a way which might be driving you just a little mad. You almost wish you were wearing a blouse and skirt again like last time, because at least then you could feel his hands spread across your ribcage, searing their heat into your bones.

You’re lost in him, utterly captivated by the way his tongue tangles with yours, the way he makes you moan. Unlike the rough, claiming kisses of your first sexual encounter with Jake Seresin, these kisses are tender and sweet. They’re searching and tasting, like he’s trying to learn what makes you tick and what makes you moan. In truth, it feels like he’s trying to take you apart only to put you together again. This time, you’re not sure you’ll ever be the same, forever changed by the man in your arms. 

“Fuck…” The word is an exhale pressed to your pulse-point, sticky, sweet, and blindingly hot. “Baby, let me take you somewhere other than this dusty, dirty parking lot. I think I really need to see you spread out on my bed this time.”

“Yes, please.” The words leave you in a strung out moan as you tug him closer, fisting your hands in his hair and sweater as you see fit. You’re past caring so long as he’s pressed so perfectly against you.

When he finally steps back from you, you’re gratified to see he looks just as rumpled and debauched as you feel. For a few moments, you stand there, drinking him in, hands aching to draw him close again, to touch him again. He takes your hand, entwining his fingers and yours. His hand dwarfs yours, skin slightly rough as his hand cradles yours. You let him lead you to the truck and help you in, because a part of you isn’t sure you’re going to be able to let him go even when you have to.

It’s silent, but for the sounds of the road as he starts his pickup, one hand never leaving its spot on your thigh. Your hands find the camera again, snapping with abandon the vista blurring past the windows and the man driving you. The streetlights halo through the lens view, speckling the pictures with circles of golden-butter light. It seems like time slips past in a slow trickle. You’re still looking through the camera when the engine cuts off, the sounds of the night trickling slowly back into your ears.

Jake’s eyes sear through you when you carefully gather your camera and bag up, legs shaky from that look alone as you step onto the pavement. His hand finds yours again, as you follow his broad back up a flight of stairs and through an unassuming white paneled front door. You’re surrounded by the cedar and plum of his cologne as you step in, the scent lightly drifting through the air. Jake crowds you against the door as soon as it closes, hands divesting you of your things even as his mouth slants over yours again. The heat sparking between you ignites again, a flame bursting to life in your chest, fed by the soft moans leaving his lips as you kiss him with wild abandon.

For much of the way to his bed, your eyes are closed. You trust Jake to lead you the right way, not to hurt you as you stumble and shudder your way through the apartment in his arms. His lips don’t leave yours once, moans ripping out of your mouth as he leaves you breathless. He’s far from quiet too, softly grunting when you tug on the hair at the nape of his neck, gasping open mouthed into yours as you rub at his bulge. Arousal bubbles in your veins, crashing over and through you. You squeal when he pushes you onto his bed, the mattress so firm it's almost hard as you bounce against it. Your hands shake as you fight with your clothes. Adrenalin makes you clumsy as you nudge your shoes off and fight futilely with the zipper at your back. Eventually you give up, choosing to lean back on your palms. When you look up, Jake’s staring down at you, eyes trailing from the curve of your mostly exposed legs up to your chest and back down again. He’s got his lower lips between his teeth, brow furrowed as he shrugs the sweater off.

Once again, you remind yourself to thank Lea for her work, because if you thought the shirt looked good buttoned up, it looks even better as it slips off his arms. He’s still wearing his dog tags, the silver chain glinting in the moonlight through the windows as he prowls over you.

“You’re still prettier than the pictures you take, baby.”

You feel like you are barely breathing as Jake licks into your mouth. The heat of his body grounds you, the points of contact just enough to tell you this is real.

“Breathe, beautiful.” His hands draw you up until you’re kneeling on the bed, your hands on his shoulders as you peer up into his eyes. Your resulting exhale is shaky as you drag in breaths with just enough oxygen to keep your head from spinning.

“Let’s get you out of this pretty dress, huh?”

“Jake.” His name falls out of your mouth like a prayer. His hands are practiced, sure as they drag the zipper down from the nape of your neck to the base of your spine. The fabric of your dress gapes forward until it’s around your waist.

Jake's eyes seem to glow in the moonlight as he takes in the simple black bra you're wearing, hands tender and hot as they drag over your bare skin, mouth wet and sharp as he drags his teeth across your collar bones.

“Mmm, baby.” His moan has you gasping, your body listing into his as he purrs the words into your skin. “I'm going to make you feel so good.”

When he lets go of you, your nipples are firm peaks in the cool air. When he removed your bra, you're not sure. All you know is you want him, desperately, urgently. Your panties feel like too much material as they cling to you, the gusset damp. Your hands are clumsy as you wrench the dress off, shaking as you peel your panties away from your skin, you flush as Jake's chuckles echo in your ears.

Divested of your clothes, you're faced with one of the prettiest sights of your life. Because, Jake’s standing there, with his belt unbuckled, and the jeans unbuttoned. His cock bulges out through the v-shaped opening, and your mouth waters as you look him over.

“God, Jake, please.” Your voice is a whine as you reach for him, fingers resting against his taut abdomen, back arched as you wait on all fours.

“I’ve got you baby.” 

His promises drip over your bare skin like hot and gentle summer rain. Your eyes close as he cups your jaw, the rustle of fabric foretelling his bare skin joining yours on the bed. You let him position you where he wants, drugged by the sensations of his big hands. You steal the opportunity to kiss him again, palms splayed over his pecs, and the cool chain of his dog tags brushing against your fingers. Falling into him is too easy. It’s just a series of kisses, a sweet tangle of tongues as you let him cradle you in his arms. Sparks of need, of want traverse your moon-stained skin, hips canting against his thigh in need.

“How long has it been since you’ve cum, sweetheart?” 

There’s amusement in his tone as you wrap your arms around his neck, breasts pillowed against his chest as you nudge his nose with your own.

“Just a couple of days ago.”

His chuckle makes you pout. 

“And how did you cum?”

He rolls you over, ghosting a kiss over your lips as he peers down at you. “Was it some guy you brought home? Who didn’t know how to make these pretty moans spill out of your mouth? Did he make you think of me the whole time?”

When you moan, it’s because he’s pressing into you, the stretch of him making your toes curl.

“N-no.” You screw your eyes up, trying to string the words together. “It was just me. With a vibrator, watching our video.”

“Fuck, there’s my good girl. Waiting for your Lieutenant Commander to make you scream, right?”

You’re so far beyond words all you can do is tug him down, fisting your hand in his hair until you can kiss him again. He’s just as eager to pull you in, hitching your legs up until they’re propped over his arms, keeping you spread open as he pistons his hips until you see stars. 

“Please, please, please.” 

You’re babbling, your orgasm crashing over you with each sharp thrust. Your moans intertwine with Jake’s guttural grunts as his hips stutter at their steady pace. It feels like you’ve been set on fire when you cum, pulsing waves of heat washing over your body. Jake’s shivering as he slumps over you, blanketing your body with his. His hair is sweat-damp as you card your fingers through the fluffy strands.

“Missed you, Jay.” 

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” The words are languid and soft, syrupy and sweet. 

It feels like you could fall in love with Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin as he gathers you in his arms for what must be the hundredth time tonight to clean you up. Every glimpse of the man you see when he's not putting on his Hangman mask intrigues you more. There's a gentleness to him when he's like this, a secret softness shining past his imposing exterior. You want to know more. You have to know more. 

The realization of how little time you have left with Jake eviscerates you. Only two days left. Two days to love this man as much as you can. You can’t tell him how close you are to falling for him. Looking at his apartment, you have a feeling it would just scare him away. His apartment is almost austere, the off-white walls blending into the pale cream carpet on the floor. Everything is bare, with no pictures on the walls and no personality. It’s a trend throughout the entire space, everywhere but the bedroom. There's a cheery quilt at the foot of the bed. It's the only vibrant color in the apartment, the one thing which screams home.

“It's pathetic, isn't it?”  You jump at his words, gripping at the footboard of the bed in an effort to keep from falling.

“It's not pathetic, Jay. Just…” You turn, clad in the soft tee he'd pulled over you after the shower. “Just different than I expected.”

“I know what it looks like, sweetheart.” The same sad soft tone is in his voice again. “It looks like I don’t have any roots. Like I’m scared to let people in.”

He slides his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, his golden hair dripping as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. “Maybe that is the truth.” 

Your heart breaks a little at the soft surety in his voice, even as he does his best impression of a koala around you.

“Because like it or not, I’m going to leave one day. I’ll have to leave one day. Another deployment. Another mission. And chances are, I may not be coming home.”

You clutch at him tighter, because right now, you’re not sure you can think about him not being in San Diego the next time you’re here.

“I was okay with my reality.”

When you wrestle your way out of his grip, you’re maybe a little too rough, evidenced by the grimace on his face as you walk away. You’re not sure where you’re going but away has to be enough. You’re not sure you can face him after he’s said something like this. After all, here you are, ready to risk it all in a sultry cross-country romance, ready to give your heart to him, possibly years of your life to him. Then there he is, admitting so callously he might not be coming home one day.

You’re staring unseeingly at the stars when he slides his arms around you again.

“Are you okay, Shutterbug?” 

You lean back into him, because he feels perfect against you still.

“Shutterbug is new.” You’re trying to change the subject, because if he’s insistent about it, you’re going to explode.

“Nuh-uh.” His hands turn you around until you’re looking at him again. “Tell me what’s bothering you, pretty girl.”

“You’re so callous about how you’re ready to never come home again! Why would you say that to me, Jake? I’m ready to risk everything for you. A cross-country relationship, half here, half in New York or really, wherever it’s convenient for us to meet. If you’re not willing to do the same, then what is the point of what we just did?”

You’re choking back a sob as you stand in front of him. Your eyes are screwed closed, hands wringing the hem of the t-shirt clothing you. 

“Why does it matter that you missed me, and that I missed you?”

“It matters, because, sweetheart, you didn’t let me finish what I was going to say.”

Your arms wrap around his waist easily as he tugs you closer.

“I was going to say, I was okay never coming home before you. You’ve been running around in my head, the center of every thought, the subject of my every dream for three months. You kept me going when we were deployed, too. All I wanted was to come home safe so I could fly out to New York and see you again.”

“Now, at least I know I’ll be welcome when I come by.”

You’re smiling from ear to ear as you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Yeah, you will be.”

You're still smiling as you walk into the Officer's Ready Room at North Island the next morning. You've got the same swagger you had in your step the first time you and Jake crashed together. Only this time, you have his phone number on your phone and the promise of a romantic dinner for two tonight. You'd be lying if you said you weren't still worried about the long distance relationship, spending half your life in New York and half here. But more than anything, you're ready for the challenge and excited to. At least you know who you're going home to - and, he knows who he is coming home to, as well.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @cherrycola27 @thedroneranger @a-reader-and-a-writer @hookslove1592 @mshistorylover @hangmanssunnies @kmc1989 @chaoticassidy

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

PART III

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Lee Know become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (13,4k words)

Author's note: Oh, I almost forgot to schedule this as Felix went live on insta but here you go , ENJOY! :)

Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.

LANA: My systems predict more guest malfunctions on their path to enlightment.

-

It's the way he can't stop touching you and the searing kisses that he places on your skin that shows you Minho is needy.

With his body pressed on top of you, you can feel him and the heat his body emitting is seeped into you. You feel hot inside and out, completely turned on.

"We're going to spend a lot of money tonight," he whispers, his eyes looking like two gleaming marbles in the dark of the room.

From these past few days, you spent playing who has the bigger ego and now you have come to a conclusion that you're done playing games.

Not sure about him but it reminds you to check whether you share the same understanding.

"Minho," you softly call as he buries his head in your neck.

"Mmh?" He answers with a low hum with his mouth on your neck.

You put your hand on his chest and push him just enough to make him look at you, "I like you.".

It takes everything in you to say those words. It's hard to let him know that, not after what he's done to you is making you feel insecure and sad which are the things you get from your past relationships.

You bring his head close until his forehead hits yours and you softly sigh before asking him, "Do you like me too, mmh?"

-

YOU: I'd be so devastated if he said no but we can't continue this if we don't want the same thing.

-

Minho takes your hand and plants kisses on your inner arm, continuing the trail of kisses to your collarbone to the column of your neck.

His mouth stops right on your ear to whisper, "Why don't I show you?"

You know for sure that he's not afraid of breaking the rules but you nervously swallow air, wondering how far he'll go?

He tenderly caresses your cheek with the back of his hand before sliding his hand down your front, smoothly tugging his fingers in the waistband of your underwear.

Slowly, he's sliding it down your hips and you lift your lower half body to get it off of you. You remove your top next while he takes off his boxer, doing it so quietly while everyone else is fast asleep in the same room.

Minho keeps the duvet covering both of your bodies, aware that the cameras are filming this.

You delightfully sigh as he carefully puts his body on top of you again, he's so warm, firm, and soft at the same time. It feels so intimate to feel him skin-to-skin.

Minho buries his head on your neck again, kissing and without warning, biting on your skin. He does it gently, probably sparing you from having to cover the bite marks the next day.

You hold on to the duvet as he moves on to your chest, biting on the flesh under your breasts, a little harder than the previous bites.

It seems like it's his way of claiming his territory.

-

MINHO: I wanted her to feel my passion [smirks]

-

Minho keeps his movement slow and quiet.

He props one hand against the mattress as he rubs his hardening member between your wet folds. He looks at your face with your mouth parted open with low moans spilling out of it.

To say that Minho is eager to be inside you would be an understatement but what he's afraid of is his self-control. You're so wet and his cock is swollen, throbbing.

Minho places a haste kiss on your lips before putting all of his focus on entering you. You spread your legs wider as he pushes his length little by little.

You cover your mouth with a hand, preventing any noises from escaping your mouth as he keeps pushing inside until he's fully sheathed in your warm, velvety walls.

Taking a moment to adjust to each other's, Minho takes the hand covering your mouth and clasps it with his, pinning it above your head as he lathers your lips with his.

He keeps your mouth busy as he begins thrusting into you at a steady pace yet intensely hard. Each trust sends him deeper inside you.

-

YOU: His uhm... [bites lips] It's pretty impressive.

-

Minho takes your other hand and pins them both above your head, he only lets go of the kiss to catch a breath.

It's been a while since you refrained from any sexual activities and when you finally have sex again, it feels exceptionally good.

And Minho, oh, he's doing so good at pleasing you that it only takes him a few thrusts to make you fall apart underneath him. You dodge away from the kiss and look at him through half-shut eyes.

"I'm cumming already," you whine, sounding so small and pathetic at once.

Bet he already knows from the way you tighten and your walls fluttering around him but it's bad news for him for he can't hold it in any longer.

"I know, I know," he murmurs against your lips.

Without picking up the pace, Minho lets go of your hands to hover above you, that way he can thrust harder and deeper into you.

You put a hand around his neck and the other slithering around his arm with your nails digging into the flesh. You turn your head to the side and see that everyone else is deep in their slumber, oblivious to what's happening on your bed.

Surprisingly, it only arouses you more doing it while everyone else is asleep in the room.

Minho plants his mouth on your neck to muffle his grunts, getting closer to his release with his cock pulsating inside you.

You curve your arms under and around him, drawing him closer, clawing at his back. He's getting closer to his release and taking you with him.

All of your senses are obliterated as you reach your high for the second time that night. You lock lips with him and slowly come down from the high together by making out under the cover.

In that moment, you feel the closest to him, not just physically but emotionally.

In that moment, nothing else matters. One thing for sure is, that you both make it worth every single cent of it.

-

YOU: I must say… A solid 12 out of 10 [giggles]

-

"Good morning!" Agnes sweetly greets everyone the second the lights are on.

Everyone else is sitting on the bed, gathering their senses and energy to start another day in this retreat. You hug Minho the moment you wake up and place a long kiss on his cheek.

"Morning," you murmur and kiss him again on the jaw.

He grabs your hand and holds it close to his chest as he stays on his spot with his eyes closed.

"I hear smooching sounds all night," the new girl, Sofia, says.

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of last night, making you retrace everything that happened and how much they heard, or was anyone knew but decided not to tell.

"What kind of sounds?" Jai asks.

Sofia answers by making exaggerated sounds of people kissing and you have to play dumb while listening to the conversation.

"From where?" Agnes asks.

Sofia shrugs and fixes the strap of her tank top.

Agnes turns her head to look at you, "Did you hear anything last night?"

You nonchalantly shrug and calmly say, "Nah, nothing."

"Right? I didn't hear anything from this side," Agnes adds, gesturing to the right side of the room where she and your beds are.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief and glance at Minho who's looking calm, not caring about what happened or what's going to happen once everyone finds out about what the two of you did.

-

YOU: Huh? What sounds? No, I have no idea what everyone is talking about [slyly smiles]

-

Minho glances at you and sees you putting on your best poker face at everyone. He has to admit that you put a good one.

The only way to avoid suspicion is by pointing it to someone else. He rolls over and rests his head on your lap, his eyes directly going to Bryan who's smiling from ear to ear.

"Bryan, you had a good sleep?" He asks him.

Bryan scratches his head and avoids looking at him as he answers, "I slept well."

"Haven't seen you smile this much in a long time," Luca adds with Maisie playing with his bedhead.

Bryan laughs and hugs a cushion in front of him, "You guys are funny," he waves him off.

There's a moment passed in silence and then Maisie looked at everyone to put everything in conclusion, "So no one broke any rules last night?"

Everyone is either nodding or mumbling in agreement with her, while Zara simply doesn't care at all.

"Let's hope Lana rewards us for being so good," Maisie once again concludes.

-

MINHO: I hate to break it to you but uh...

-

The time for judgment is coming anytime soon.

Lana has been quiet after the morning greeting and makes him wait which is more nerve-wracking than admitting the crimes.

You find Minho sitting alone on the sofa outside, guess he's cooling down after working out at the beach like usual.

His orange hair looks vibrant under the morning sun, and his honey skin glows, inviting you to touch.

"Hi, sexy," You come up to him and do not hesitate to sit on his lap, straddling him on the sofa.

You put your hands around his neck next and are about to hug when he stops you, "I'm sweaty. It's nasty."

You chuckle at his words, "You are nasty."

Minho smiles and tilts his head back, looking up at you. He rarely talks and it's always your job to get a compliment out of him.

"How do I look?" You ask, flipping your hair to the back.

His eyes traveling down your body, he then rests his hands on each side of your waist, resisting himself to go lower than that.

"I don't like the bikini," he says.

You look down and check if there's something unflattering about the red bikini you're wearing, "You don't like red?"

His finger is playing with the strap of your bikini, "You look good without it."

That instantly makes you smile and your heart leaps. Worse is his eyes are still staring into yours, his bunny teeth faintly biting his lower lip.

"You should be on top next time," he says and you can see the glimpses of last night in his eyes.

It's so dangerous how he easily escalates things, he makes you smitten and horny in the next minute.

You lean in until your face is merely inches away from him, "There'll be next time, mmh?" You bump the tip of his nose with yours.

"If there's any money left..." he meekly says.

You laugh in distress because it reminds you of what's coming to you soon, you'll be lucky if you're still in one piece at the end of it.

You hug him for comfort and he wraps you in his arms, staying like that until he gently pushes you away.

"I'm getting hard," he says, grabbing a cushion to put between his crotch and yours as a safety measure.

-

YOU: There's no way we get out of this, right?

-

Forget that Minho says you have a good poker face.

You've been squeezing the cushion you're holding on your lap even though Lana's cone hasn't chimed up yet. He puts his hand on the small of your back, landing a few soothing rubs on it but you're way past getting comforted by it.

"Hello, everyone!" Lana greets.

"Hi, Lana!" Everyone says in unison.

"We're nearing the end of our retreat," Lana announces.

That seems to remind everyone how long we've been locked in in the villa and that it's going to be over soon.

"I've been seeing some of your progress," Lana shares good news for the first time.

"Finally, some good news," Maisie mutters with a smile.

At this point, Minho can only guess when she's going to say the word 'however' because that's his cue to panic. He looks at you again and you're starting to bite your lower lips.

"And I am pleased that some of you are committing to the process," Lana continues.

Everyone is clapping in joy and grinning because as far as they know, no one broke any rules. Well, Minho feels called out that Lana said 'some' and excluded him from it.

-

MINHO: I feel it coming...

-

"However," Lana says.

Okay, time to panic. Minho puts his guard up high and is ready to do some damage control.

"During the night, there was a serious breach of the rules."

Luca's jaws hang open while Maisie blurts out, "What the heck, you guys!"

Bryan brushes his chin and groans, "This is not okay!"

"May as well admit it now or we're going to be more annoyed if you lie about it," Jai says with piercing eyes.

Well, that's what Minho is about to do. He takes a deep breath and raises his hand.

"I did it," he innocently admits.

There are various expressions he gets from everyone, mostly surprised with a question mark drawn on their faces.

"Minho, man, what did you do?" Bryan asks.

"I kissed her in the shower," Minho shortly answers.

Luca turns to look at him, "Is there anything else you did?"

Minho gulps air and turns to see you, looking like the blood is drained from your face yet you give him a subtle nod to continue.

"We had sex last night," Minho confesses.

"WHAT?" Bryan snaps as if he's just heard the shocking news.

"Oh, nah, that's not— you guys don't even have a connection," Noah says.

And the rest are muttering words at the same time that you have a hard time defending yourself.

"I know you're probably thinking that we don't have connections but we had a moment, we have this chemistry between—"

You got cut off by Bryan, "I think you guys are being selfish," he hastily accuses.

You take a breath and try again, "Can I—"

"There's nothing genuine there," Maisie says, shaking her head.

-

MINHO: They think that it's just sex but for me, this is a part of our process, this is how we're dealing with it.

-

Minho rarely talks whenever someone does a rulebreak but seeing them not giving you a chance to explain yourself upsets him.

"Can you please let her explain first?" Minho may have raised his voice a little louder but it works to make them abruptly stop talking.

"And all of you can yell or curse at us after but please, let her talk first," Minho continues.

You flash him a thankful smile and take a deep breath to start it all over again, "I'm not going to tell you why we did it because none of you would understand but here's what I know..."

You shift your body to face everyone from the end of the sofa, "What we did was selfish and I am so sorry, truly, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry but I promise to you guys that we'll prove you that we do have a genuine connection."

You're on the verge of crying but Minho's hand steadily holding the small of your back reassures you that there's no need for you to be afraid.

"And if there's a way to get the money back, I'll do it. If not, then I'm fine with Lana sending me home," you finish.

They're all not responding but you can tell that they're still upset and not convinced with your words.

"This incident of sexual intercourse has resulted in the deduction of the prize fund of $50,000," Lana mercilessly announces.

You close your eyes and imagine all that money slipping away from your hands.

-

YOU: Lana, honey, not 50 grand, please?

-

"The prize fund now stands at $90,000."

Minho doesn't care about the money but hearing that half of the prize fund has gone down the drain makes him feel bad about it.

There's no regret still but he's feeling guilty for costing this much on everyone.

Everyone leaves the cabana, throwing daggers with their eyes and muttering all kinds of things under their breath as they walk past you and him.

You melt into his arms the second everyone has left and mumble, "We're in a pickle."

He puts his arm around you and kisses the top of your head, "We're going to be alright," he assures you even though he's not sure about it himself.

You look at him and pout, "We have to prove to them that we have a connection," you mumble again.

He nods in agreement, "And we do have that so you don't have to worry."

You nestle your head in the crook of his neck and let out a big sigh, "Oh, fuck..."

He pulls you closer and rubs your back, "I have your back," he says with a sly smile.

You put your hand on his back and say back to him, "I have your back too."

-

MINHO: For this relationship to work I have to start to open up to her... well, that's something I'm still working on [sighs]

-

"If it's me and Agnes, can you imagine the shit we'd get?" Jai complains between his grunts as he's pumping his chest by lifting weights.

Jai drops them onto the concrete after finishing ten repetitions and groans in exhaustion.

"I think everyone lay you guys easy," he says.

Minho silently cringes in disagreement, "I don't think they lay us off 'easy'."

Jai laughs and sits next to him on the yoga mat, looking out at the beach with the waves lapping over the white sands.

"I'm just hurt you take the most spending couple title from us," he jokes.

Minho snorts and stretches his hands out, "Please, take it back from me!"

Jai laughs and drinks from his water tumbler, "Maybe I will, tonight."

"Tell me what time 'cause I'd like to watch," Minho jokes back.

Jai almost spits his water but manages to swallow it all down even though a few drops escape his mouth. He's shaking his head as he wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his t-shirt.

"I can't believe you did that with all of us in the room," Jai says in disbelief.

"You should try it. It was thrilling," Minho suggests with a wild grin on his face.

Minho and Jai are changing clothes to get ready for the night when Lana's cone dings.

"Jai, you may have to dress nicely 'cause I'm sending you on a date with Agnes," she informs.

Jai brags with a nonchalant shrug at Minho and turns to thank her, "Thank you, Lana!"

-

MINHO: Our relationship has been tumultuous from the start so if we had to compare with the other couples, we have a lot to catch up on.

-

Everyone is on edge after finding out about how you spent 50 grand in one night.

Well, it's not like you're in the mood to comfort everyone but you know one person that you know needs it most right now.

Things are not going well with Zara.

Instead of coming to his senses, Bryan keeps making the wrong choices and hurting her in the process. It's concerning to see her getting more and more reluctant to join the process.

You skip spending so much time dressing up for tonight since you don't get a date with Minho. Well, you can't complain after the thing you did last night.

Zara is sitting on the lounger by herself tonight and it's just sad.

"Hey," you softly greet.

She turns to see you coming and weakly smiles, "Hey..."

"Let me give you a hug," you say, not waiting for her answer but put your hands around her and hug her for a good minute.

"How are you doing?" You ask as you sit at the end of the lounger.

"Honestly..." Zara lets out a sigh as he reclines on the lounger, "I feel so... I feel like shit."

It's only right for her to feel that way, Bryan has been blatantly showing interest in another girl and Zara sees all that right in front of her.

"It's so raw, yeah, I understand," you say with a sympathetic smile.

Behind her, you can see that Bryan is with Sofia, talking and laughing. It's so mean of him to not, at least, try to protect Zara's feelings.

"This hurt less than when he decided to share the bed with her," Zara says, noticing that you're watching Bryan and Sofia talking in the back.

"He has gone the furthest. There's no coming back from it," she adds.

You put your hand on her knee, "I think you should not try and rise to it," you tell her.

"They keep shoving their happy faces at me and I just— he doesn't even give me a space to process," Zara's voice is breaking at the end.

The radiance that Zara has when you first meet her seems to have dimmed. You feel bad for being so busy in your own drama that you didn't notice Zara has been suffering by herself.

"At least, now we know that you two aren't right for each other," you give her the positive side of it.

You scoot closer to give her a long hug, "You deserve better, my darling!"

-

YOU: Seeing what Zara is going through makes me realize that I could've gone down the same route if I kept being my stubborn self.

-

Now that you have nothing else to do, you get ready for bed earlier than usual.

You enter the bedroom and see Minho is already lying on the bed with his hands under his head.

You break into a run and jump onto the bed, lying on top of him next as he lies underneath with eyes closed, his hands wrapped around you.

You look at his face, admiring his lashes that curl and fan out so beautifully on his closed eyelids.

"You have such pretty eyelashes," you mutter a praise to him.

Using your index finger, you trail the bridge of his nose and when you get to the pointy tip, he surprises you with a bite on your finger.

You reflexively retract your hand and get away from it, laughing at his failed attempt to bite you.

His eyes remain closed but his hand is gliding down your back and he tugs his fingers on the elastic band of your underwear.

Getting dangerous to be considered a heavy petting, you take his hand away and click your tongue at him as a warning.

He mischievously slides his other hand and before he can make it to the curve of your ass, you topple your body to the side and squash his hand under you.

"You can't do that, baby," you remind him.

But Minho only slyly smiles with his eyes still closed in response.

-

YOU: It's so hard not to let him touch me. Have you seen Minho? Can't you blame me?

-

"Guess what?" Agnes asks as she and Jai are back from their date.

Sofia turns over on her bed and asks, "What?"

"We got the green light!" She brags, saying it like she's been waiting for long to say it.

You cheer and clap for them while Minho is slapping your ass in substitute for it.

"Congratulations!" Minho says to Jai as the couple sit on their bed.

"Thank you," Jai says with a teeth-baring grin.

It's the first grin that Minho is glad to see. He's kind of jealous about it because he does want to take you on a date and prove to everyone that he does have a connection with you.

Just like that isn't enough to make him jealous, Luca also comes back from the date looking joyful and it's safe to guess that he gets the green light too.

It's not hard to notice that you have the same thing in your eyes. He pulls you, holding you close to lowly asks, "Are you sad that we didn't get on a date?"

You subtly nod then mumble into his chest, "We're on Lana's naughty steps," you remind him.

The way you're saying it is like a toddler fussing to her parents and it's adorable to him. He buries his head in your neck to give you ticklish kisses, making you squeal.

-

MINHO: I mean, I would love to get a green light too.

-

"No rule breaks tonight!" Minho suddenly shouts as the lights are turned off.

Jai hurls a cushion at him, "you knob," he calls him out with a low laugh.

Minho spoons you from behind and slips his hand under the camisole you're wearing, his fingers teasing your underboob as he playfully bites at your ear.

"Let's spend another 50 grand tonight," he jokes.

He says it loud enough to annoy everyone in the room, a few of them are laughing and Bryan clears his throat as a warning to him.

You cover his mouth to stop him from making jokes, "Shh..."

He does the same to you, putting his hand over your mouth as he tickles you with more kisses on your neck.

"Minho..." Bryan calls him out with a scolding tone.

Minho gently bites on your shoulder before answering, "Sorry, Bryan, my mouth was full when you called me."

"Funny, man, that's funny," Bryan half-heartedly responds.

You turn around and cover his mouth with both hands now, shutting him up for good this time.

"Let's sleep, mmh?" You mutter with a kiss on his jaw.

Minho gives up and keeps you close to his chest, his hand tangled in your hair.

"I'm going to miss this," you mumble.

He didn't hear it the first time, "What's that?"

You put your hands around his neck and talk while you look at his face, "I know I said I'm okay if Lana sends us home but I'm not ready for that."

It's easy to be with you because you're open about your feelings, opposite to his closed personality. He gently massages the nape of your neck as he intently listens to your heartfelt talks.

"I still want to be here with you," you murmur.

His heart rattles in his chest hearing how much you wanted to stay here and it's because of him.

"Me too," he says with a long peck on your forehead.

-

MINHO: I like her. I don't know why it took me this long to realize this. I really like her.

-

The girls are hanging out in the bedroom as the boys are out of the house for a workshop.

You're cuddling with Zara on her bed and talking about random things other than anything on this retreat to get her mind off things.

But with Sofia there, it's hard not to think about Bryan.

"You're doing alright, right, babe?"

She looks at the ceiling and avoids your eyes as she replies, "It still hurts, you know, because of how it happened and we never chatted."

You rub her elbow and softly speak to her, "I can help the two of you talk if you want," you offer.

She closes her eyes and sighs, "I don't know..."

The talk has to stop as the boys have returned from the workshop, barging into the bedroom and you smile once you spot Minho.

He stops at the side of the bed and takes the hand you offer him.

"I missed you," you tell him even though you've only parted with him for an hour.

"Let's talk outside," he says.

"Okay," you comply and follow him out of the bedroom.

Minho leads you to the terrace and tells you to sit on the sofa, "Sit there!"

You're used to his strange ways of doing things at this point and doing what he asked by sitting on the sofa.

"Your legs on the sofa as well," he demands.

You put your legs up on the sofa and weirdly stare at him.

"Open your legs," he orders.

Your eyes widen but again, you comply by spreading your legs open.

He looks at you in that position for a moment, he hisses through his gritted teeth then says, "Grab a cushion!"

You awkwardly reach for a cushion close to you and hold it out in front of you since his instruction isn't clear.

"Put it there between your legs," he says.

You get the point that this is for a safety measure and chuckle as you put the cushion between your legs.

Minho smiles in satisfaction and does not waste time sitting there between your legs, resting his back on your chest.

You giggle as you put your arms around him, "You can simply say that you want to cuddle," you say, burying your nose in his hair

"What's the fun in that?" He simply responds with that half-smirk of it.

It's so comfortable and nice that you instantly relax around each other, you softly scratching his head while Minho gently rubs your forearm with just his fingertips.

After a while, he tilts his head to look at you and says, "You know that I like you, right?"

It's so sudden that you don't know how to react to his confession but nod, "Y-yeah," you stammer.

"Well, you showed me that and it even came with a receipt," you try again with a playful tone.

He looks at you without saying anything and goes back to look straight ahead, "I don't want to keep leading you on without saying how I feel about you," he says.

He turns his head again and clasps his hands with yours, "Not saying it doesn't mean that I don't feel it but I want this to work therefore it needs to be said."

Your heart starts to race and you bet he can feel it as his head lies right above it.

"I like you. I like you a lot," he says with his brown eyes staring right into yours.

Your heart drops and bursts open, you believe he can see your eyes overflowing with warm feelings as you stare back into his eyes.

"Not trying to be competitive here but I think I like you more than you like me," you say back with a big smile.

"Is that so?"

You nod.

"Okay," he casually responds.

"Thank you for letting your guard down for me," you earnestly tell him while tightening the hold around him and a brief kiss on his neck.

"Kiss me then!" He cheekily asks, puckering his lips at you.

"I'd love to but I'm afraid we're still on Lana's naughty steps," you tell him with a pout.

If they didn't chime, you wouldn't realize that you have the watches and they turn green. You get stunned for a while and glance at him.

"We got a green light!" You innocently tell him.

He tips his head to look at you with wild glints in his eyes, "Quickie?"

You laugh because that's the first thing that he wanted to do. Choosing the simplest option, you hold his face with one hand and keep it still as you lean in, giving him an upside-down kiss.

It feels good to be able not only to say it back to him but also show how much you mean those words with all of your heart.

As you let go of the kiss, Minho glances down his watch to check if the light is still a grin before pulling you for another kiss. You moan as Minho returns the kisses harder that you're struggling to keep up with him.

The laugh you let out against his lips doesn't stop him, he keeps kissing your open mouth. You have no other option but to break the kiss.

Minho slouches down your chest and puts your hands on his chest as he closes his eyes.

"It's so comfortable," he hums as he nestles his head between your breasts.

"That's because you're resting on my tits," you tell him.

-

YOU: I needed that kiss but I hope this also means that Lana sees our growth as a couple.

-

Bryan has been looking at Minho, up and down and up again while he's getting ready in the bathroom.

"You find your type on me?" Minho teases him.

Bryan shakes his head and hisses, "I can't tell if you're happy or upset, man, I can't read you," he says with a frustrated sigh.

"I'm not a book. Why would you read me?" He simply responds.

On the other hand, Bryan is an open book, he's so easy to read and with a quick observation, Minho can tell that he is a bit chipper than usual.

"You spent money?" Minho asks.

He scoffs and continues to splash his face with water instead of answering. From the way he doesn't deny him, it can only mean one thing.

"How much?" Minho corners him with another question.

Bryan shrugs and ignores him again, Minho almost laughs at how readable everything is from every gesture he makes with his bulky body.

With him spending a quarter of the fund by himself, Minho wouldn't be upset about Bryan breaking the rules but the only concerning thing is how Zara is going to react to this.

"Have you talked to Zara?" He asks.

"I don't think we have anything to talk about," Bryan says.

That thick body comes with a thick head that every word he has said to him bounces off, it's impenetrable.

No one likes to be preached so Minho decides to leave it at that. He only tries to knock some senses into him but then again, he shouldn't meddle in someone else's business in the first place.

-

MINHO: I'm not a saint either but I'm just trying to... stop Bryan from making another big mistake.

-

They're both heading down to the beach as Lana calls everyone to gather there. Minho doesn't worry at all knowing that he hasn't done anything that cost anyone money although he has to admit that it feels good doing good and gets rewarded.

He sits on the empty seat next to you and puts his arm around you, he's not nervous nor worried, he simply wants to hold you.

You hold his jaw and gently caress his cheek with your thumb, "You look good, baby."

You're not satisfied with him only responding with his half-smirk of his.

"Thank you. You look good too," you tell him the response you wanted from him.

"Thank you. You look good too," he repeated your words, verbatim with the same plain tone.

You brightly smile at him, "Aw, thank you, you're very sweet!" You say with a small kiss on his cheek.

He offers his other cheek for you to kiss but Lana's chime interrupts both of you.

Lana is taking everyone's attention when she's perched there on top of a wooden table in the middle.

"Hello, everyone. Some of you have made significant breakthroughs in the retreat but even though you're nearing the end of the process, there are still individuals who are breaking the rules."

Minho's eyes shift to Bryan because he knows for sure that he did it, it's written all over his face. Everyone else is just too annoyed with the fact that someone broke rules knowing that there's not much left in the prize fund.

"Okay, okay," Bryan quickly speaks up.

Minho enjoys seeing all the surprised faces, including you.

"I'm just going to go ahead and admit that I kissed Sofia last night," he confesses in a quick rambling.

A few are silently laughing at him for breaking his own principles and costing everyone the money he once dearly protected so much.

"However, that is not all! There was another breach of the rules," Lana shares.

"Oh, shit..." Maisie mutters and pinches the bridge of her nose.

Everyone is throwing daggers with their eyes at Bryan and Sofia and probably won't stop until one of them confesses the other thing they did.

"So it was a kiss and then... what?" Jai asks with wrinkles on his forehead.

"I gave him a handy," Sofia hurriedly spills, sending everyone groaning as a result.

Minho turns to the side and whispers at you, "I would love a handy."

You gently slap his face and shake your head with a smoldering glare at him.

"A total of $10,000 has been deducted from the prize fund. The prize fund now stands at $80,000," Lana updates.

More groans and moans are heard around the circles after finding out the accountant spent ten grand on a kiss and a handjob.

"That's just low..." Luca grumbles as he sits right next to him.

"I think... it's–it's worth it," Bryan defends himself, half stuttering.

Minho bursts out laughing, "You are an accountant!" He reminds him which should give him the idea that he should know better about things that are worth that much money.

"I have further business," Lana surprisingly adds.

Minho has an inkling that it's going to be bad news but the question is what is worse than losing money?

"The retreat almost comes to an end after which I'll be allocating the prize fund to those most deserving."

That gets him on the edge of his seat because he has another inkling and it's not a good one.

"However, I have observed that not all of you are sufficiently invested in the process."

He's right and now he can't think of anything but let the anxiety reside in his head.

"Two people in particular are showing no interest in participating in the process or making a meaningful connection."

Minho turns to look at you and your concerned face which reminds him of what you said to him the other night. Except that the fear is getting unbearable for you and it shows from how you tightly hold his hand.

"For that reason, I'll be sending those two people home tonight."

-

MINHO: It could be us. We committed a serious breach of the rules so... [sighs] it could be us.

-

It feels like your heart just dropped to your stomach.

It was only last night you told Minho you're not ready to leave yet, you want to be here with him and finish the rest of the retreat.

"The guests leaving the retreat are..."

The fear is creeping up inside you that you unconsciously squeeze his hand in yours too hard, feeling defeated already even though Lana hasn't announced the names yet.

"Noah and Zara."

Instead of being happy, you throw yourself at Minho and cry. You're relieved but sad at the same time, relieved that you're still staying and sad that Zara is being sent home.

"It's because—" you got paused by a hiccup.

"Bryan broke her fucking heart," you tell him between your sobs.

He seems to agree with it too and holds you close, letting you cry into his chest.

"I have nothing else to learn in here anyway so I think it's best for me to go," Zara sadly says with eyes brimming with tears.

She then makes a quick farewell to everyone not excluding Bryan. She gives him a quick hug and halfheartedly mutters, "Have a good time!"

When it's her turn to hug you, you just hug her so tightly and cry, feeling the loss already even though she's still here.

"I love you," Zara murmurs and kisses your wet cheek.

You can't bring yourself to say it back to her when the tears won't stop streaming down your face.

She hugs Minho and gives him a warning, "Be good to her, please!"

Minho smiles and hugs her back, muttering well wishes for her before she waves her hands at everyone, and then leaves.

-

YOU: Zara is such a good friend and I'm sad to see her go but I'm not worried for her, I believe she'll find better things outside of this retreat.

-

Not only Minho is grateful that the two of you are still staying in the retreat, but he's also grateful that he fixed everything right on time.

Or else, he would be deep in regrets just like Bryan is right now.

The sight of the empty bed amplified the loss of Zara and Noah in the retreat. Another thing he's grateful for is waking up next to you.

"Are my eyes still swollen?" You sleepily ask.

Devastated by Zara's leaving, you didn't stop crying even after she left. He understands the feeling because of how close you are to Zara.

Minho cups your jaw in his hand, "I still want to have sex with you if that's your concern," he playfully says.

A smile blooms on your face, you lean in to place a long, lingering peck on his cheek and sigh when you let go.

"I'm so happy we're still here," you tell him, nuzzling your head into his neck.

He squeezes your hand and takes it to place a kiss on it, "You okay?"

"Mmh..." you hum your answer.

He brushes the end of your hair with his fingers, "What do you want to do today?"

"Sleep all day," you shorty answer with your eyes closed.

But Minho has another idea in mind, "No, you're going to work out with me," he insists.

"No," you whine, clutching the duvet and pulling it higher to your chest.

"Yes," he persists.

"No," you whine again and aggressively shake your head at him.

The intention of taking you to work out with him is so both of you can do something that would keep your minds off things.

By things, he means things he wanted to do to you but shouldn't do.

"Oh," you moan.

"I don't think I can do this anymore," you groan and drop onto the mat.

"You can do another set," he encourages and sits next to you.

You roll over and lay on your back, showing him your body glistening wet with sweat with the pale morning sun reflecting the sheen of sweat to him.

You shake your head at him, your mouth parting open as you catch your breath, "No, please..."

This is not the intention because now all he can think about is having you under him, doing those things he shouldn't do.

-

MINHO: It's not just sex now. I like her but it's only making it harder for me to keep my hands off of her.

-

Never again.

At first, you're glad that he wants to spend time with you by working out together but after today, never again. It was so intense and draining that your legs are shaking as you stand against the sink to wash your hands.

"Rock, paper, scissors," he asks you to play out of the blue. He's been making a big deal of who should be taking a shower first.

You sigh as you turn around to see him, "We can shower together."

He shakes his head and insists on playing, "Rock, paper, scissors!"

You pull out a rock while he pulls out a paper, resulting in your loss. You subtly roll your eyes at him and are about to say he won so he can shower first.

"You lose. You shower first," he says.

"Eh?" You look at him in confusion.

You grab a towel and your toiletry bag, "Are you sure you don't want to shower with me?"

He leans against the sink, crossing his arms in front of him and shaking his head at you.

Feeling mischievous, you take your workout clothes in front of him to entice him to come into the shower with you. It doesn't faze him that you have to find another idea to tease him.

"You let me shower first so you can watch, huh?" You say with a sly smile.

He doesn't respond and watches you enter the shower. It's when you turn to pick up your bottle of shampoo you see him staring through the glass door with a creepy smile on her face, sending you into peals of laughter.

Sadly, you can't stay to watch him taking his shower in return. Lana is throwing another party tonight along with a box of costumes for everyone to wear.

The theme is birds of paradise and you want to look good because it's probably the last party you'll ever have in the retreat.

You pick one in a white feathered costume plus its wings, spending a good hour doing make-up and styling your hair with help from Agnes.

Minho is dressed up in all black, you guess it's a raven and he looks hot nonetheless. He may be a dancer but when it comes to having fun on the dance floor he refuses, leaving you no choice but to pick another dance partner and Luca is the lucky one.

Everyone is having so much fun until Lana chimes.

-

YOU: Can't say I'm surprised! Lana just can't stand seeing us having so much fun.

-

You got rid of the wings to get comfortable sitting on the sofa because only God knows what kind of news Lana is going to deliver tonight.

"No one lost any money," Bryan says but the tone indicates that he's rather asking than making a statement.

"Not in the last five minutes," Luca replies.

You get used to this All eyes are directed towards you and Minho now, "we didn't do anything," you assure them.

Lana chimes in again, announcing her arrival.

"Good evening, everyone!"

"Hi, Lana," you reply with sheer excitement.

It's hard not to be nervous when you know something is coming.

"As we begin to enter the final phase of my program, it is time to recognize the progress and growth that has been made..."

It's safe to say that you've made progress with Minho but you're not sure if it's enough for Lana.

"... and to give you an opportunity for redemption."

Redemption? That sounds intriguing and you slowly catching up on it until Lana calls your name and Minho.

"Your relationship has so far cost the group the most money."

You feel called out and put on a thin smile at the reminder of it, "I've been a bad girl, Lana, I know."

"However, with the growth and the bond you have shown, you deserve the chance to return the money to the prize fund."

Everyone is cheering, they get so excited with the promise that they will get more money on the prize fund that they forget there's a catch to it.

"Therefore, it's time for you to face the ultimate test."

You screw your eyes shut and curse under your breath, "Oh, fuck..."

"You will spend the night at the private suite."

You look at Minho and it astounds you how he is so calm about this.

"We're fucked!" Jai hastily concludes and laughs.

"They had sex while we were in the room with them. What do you think will happen if they're alone together?" Maisie pointed out why people should be expecting the worst out of this instead of encouraging both of you.

"If you succeed without breaking further rules, I'll increase the prize fund by $50,000."

They once again get excited whenever money is mentioned.

"If not, I'll deduct the same amount from the prize fund."

And there she goes, making everyone lose their hopes on you and Minho again.

"Please make your way to the suite," Lana finishes.

"Have fun!" Jai shouts from the other end of the sofa.

"But not too much!" Agnes adds.

-

YOU: How am I going to resist Minho? I am screwed.

-

Minho doesn't need another test.

Refusing the offer to join you in the shower was already a test to him but now, Lana has decided that she wants to take the test further.

This is what he wants, privacy and some alone time with you but this is not what he needs, at least, not in this retreat.

How is he going to refuse you again when you ask him if he wants to have a bath together? There's only one right answer.

"Why would I pass the chance to see you naked again?" He answers.

You both strip all of your clothes while waiting for water to fill the tub. Minho has seen your naked body a few times and even feels you against his body but oh, it's so different when he stands there and catches you looking at him.

You don't even try to hide those eyes traveling down his body, biting your thumb when you take your eyes back to look at him.

"You're so fucking hot," you say with a low, sultry voice.

Your eyes go down his body again, licking your lips then say, "I want to give you head."

Minho scoffs and turns to turn off the faucet, trying not to care about what you've just said when, in fact, it's been echoing in his head the second those words are out of your mouth.

-

MINHO: It's going to be a long, long night.

-

Your eyes are following him and watching every muscle on his body contract whenever he does something.

The water is warm but his ears and his honey skin turn red around the chest. There's no way it's because of the water or he's shy, he's aroused.

You keep biting your lips to not let your lewd thoughts out and feed his desire, you have to actively tell your brain to cooperate to win the money back for everyone.

There are no words spoken after a few minutes of sharing a bathtub and exchanging naughty glances at each other. But the body, the body just can't lie.

"I thought after having sex with you, I wouldn't crave it anymore," he suddenly says.

You sip your glass of chilled wine and ask him, "But?"

"I want it more. I want to have sex with you," he shamelessly admits.

You feel his toe rubbing against your thigh in the water, "yeah?"

"Again and again," he continues.

Minho puts his hand into the water and holds your leg by the ankle, rubbing your calf that you newly discovered is one of your sensitive spots.

"And again..." he continues.

He stares at you and takes your wine glass to drain it empty, "Just sex all day with you."

It's the way he casually and openly tells you all of those naughty ideas that make you squirm in the tub. He knows what he's doing therefore it only arouses you more.

-

YOU: I don't want to spend money [hisses] but can I use my credit card?

-

Minho returns from the bathroom to find you sitting on the edge of the bed, looking through a basket of sex toys in it.

"Found some of your favorites!" You say as he climbs onto the bed.

He sits behind you, also looking through various things inside the basket from feathers to butt plug which only gives him a new list of things he wants to do to you.

You pick up the handcuff and look over your shoulder at him, "Want to use it on me?"

It'll be fun if you use it on him but you offer him to use it on you? You've just made him fall deeper into you.

"Be gentle with me, please?" You tell him as he handcuffed both of your hands then put them above your head.

"Only if you keep it there!" He warns.

You giggle instead of answering, earning you a gentle slap on the stomach using the heart-shaped paddle.

"Yes, I'll keep it there," you hurriedly confirm.

After a moment, you suddenly add, "Or I'll try to."

Minho drags the end of the paddle to your sternum and slaps you there, making you wince for a second then giggle the next second.

His eyes are following the end of the paddle sliding down the front of your body, making him wish he used his hand instead.

Taking a moment to admire your body, he watches as your chest is heaving with breasts contained in a lacy bra that barely covers them.

He rubs over your clothed core in circular motions then looks at you, "Are you going to be good?"

You shake your head with a sly smile on your face.

Minho drags the paddle to the side and slaps you there on the abdomen.

"Oh," you moan, lifting your back off the bed.

"Should I put a gag on you too?" He taunts.

"No," you quickly refuse.

The paddle glides down to the side and goes down your thigh, "Are you going to be good?" He tries again.

"No," you shortly answer.

He glares at you and orders, "Turn to the side."

You comply, turning your body to the side facing him and giving him the eyes while at it.

Minho moves the paddle to the back, going for your ass cheek, rubbing over the ample flesh before slapping it with the paddle.

Once, twice, and on the third, you let out a loud moan then roll over on the bed as if to offer him to give you more slaps.

"You're enjoying it, huh?" He asks.

You nod with your head buried in the pillow. The absence of a verbal answer resulted in him giving you a few more slaps on the other ass cheek.

"Lay on your back!" He orders and helps you roll over to the side by holding your waist. Seeing your face helps him to know if you're uncomfortable with what he's doing.

Minho lays next to you with the end of the paddle resting on your stomach, he tries the question again, "Are you enjoying this?"

"Yes," you answer and repeatedly nod.

You squirm and rub your knees together, "I'm so wet right now," you innocently share.

Minho flashes you a satisfied smile and turns grim the next second, "Spread your legs!"

You slowly spread your legs open and Minho wastes no time to drag the end of the paddle there, slapping your inner thigh.

"How wet?"

"So wet," you tell him.

Minho brings the paddle closer to your sex, then lands a gentle slap there. He watches as a loud moan spills out of your parted mouth.

Minho presses his mouth close to your ear and asks, "What do you want me to do with it, mmh?"

You close your eyes and delightfully smile, "Want you to use your mouth."

Minho likes teasing you but seeing how responsive you are to his teasings, arouses him more on a whole new level.

-

MINHO: She's just so... [sighs] Let's say I would love to declare bankruptcy.

-

After covering most of your body with heart-shaped marks, Minho decides to take the handcuff off and lays next to you.

The teasing has ended but the tension keeps rising. You plant your mouth on his chest and cover it with searing little kisses.

"Want you so much," you whisper into his ear.

Minho has been resting his hands on your back and does not intend to move them anywhere, he's probably resisting letting them wander around your body.

However, Minho puts his leg between your legs under the cover, allowing you to rub your clothed sex against his thigh and doing it so subtly as to not let this be a rule break.

There's something about not being allowed to do something that only wants you to do it more.

With the reminder that you're on a quest to win some money back, you're going to use this chance to test his limits.

You turn over and straddle him on the bed, intentionally sitting right on his crotch, hard. The hands on your back slide down to the curve of your ass.

A groan falls out of his mouth as a wicked grin flashes across his beautiful face.

"Can you resist me, baby?" You ask with a flirty smile.

He puts his hands away from you and puts them under his pillow. With not so convincing nod, he says, "Yes."

You let out low giggles and lean in, stopping when your faces are merely inches away from each other. You kiss him all over his face and the last one lands close to his mouth.

"Can you resist me, mmh?" You ask again and place a soft kiss on his closed eyelid.

Minho lets out a shaky sigh and puts his hands around you to flip you over, sending you under him this time.

He puts a hand under the nape of your neck and tilts your head to the side, allowing him to kiss your exposed neck.

You wrap your arm around him and draw him close, whimpering as his kisses turn wet and slobbering.

"Let's just spend the whole money, yeah?" You whine as he places kisses along your jaw.

"Let's go the whole way, mmh?"

-

YOU: Forgive me Lana for I'm about to sin. [Puts hands together]

-

Lana has gathered everyone at the beach for the big result.

Minho takes your hand to help you climb down the wooden steps that lead to the beach.

Everyone is there, probably discussing what they're going to do to him when they find out some more money lost from the prize fund.

He sits on the empty stools with you and everyone is giving him a questioning look.

"How was last night?" Maisie asks with a tense face.

"It was great," you reply while nervously rubbing your knees.

"Did something happen?" Esme asks.

Minho shakes his head and calmly replies, "We did a few things that we're not sure is allowed."

"Oh, fuck!" Jai curses out loud.

"Are you joking?" Agnes asks with a rather aggressive tone and clenched jaws

"You're not only putting the money on the line but also our respect and friendship," Luca pointed out.

Minho puts his hand up to stop everyone from yelling and cursing at both of you, "Let the lady speak," he says, gesturing to Lana.

"I can confirm that no rules have been broken," Lana confirms right away.

A loud cheer breaks that Minho can't tell which scream is whose as they come up to him and give him hugs in turns.

"$50,000 has been returned and the prize fund now stands at $130,000."

He takes your hand and pulls you to his side, looking at you smiling at him and only at him. He never feels this kind of high before when he usually gets it from sex, it's different, otherworldly.

"Can I touch her now?" Minho asks everyone.

"Yes but you know, within rules," Jai answers with an apologetic shrug.

Without warning, he hoists you against his body and lands a kiss on your cheek.

"Fuck, stop being so cute!" Maisie shouts with a voice full of envy.

-

MINHO: I have never been this happy to know I've spent a night with a girl and not have sex.

-

"I have further announcements," Lana suddenly interrupts the celebration.

"Oh, God!" Sofia sighs.

They go back to their seats and get serious again, afraid that she delivered good news to prepare everyone for bad news afterward.

"I am sending all the partnered guests on a final date!"

Everyone lets out a sigh of relief almost at the same time, it's rare to get good news after good news.

"It's time for you all to look at your growth and assess what you want from your future."

You get sad at the reminder that it's going to end soon and pout at Minho.

"Please use the rest of the retreat wisely!" Lana concludes.

Lana has set the date for you and it's later at night. You have a few hours to get ready for it but you can't calm knowing that it's going to be the first proper date you'll have with Minho.

Your worries include the things you want to say to him and the closer you get to the date, the more nervous you get.

When it's time, you walk out of the villa with Minho already waiting on the terrace. He looks so gorgeous in all black and his orange hair is unruly due to the wind but it only makes him more attractive.

"My beautiful man," you sigh and kiss him on the cheek.

He holds his hand out for you to take and even though you rarely go to the beach at night, they have set a bonfire to create an intimate yet cozy atmosphere for the date.

They have prepared a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, a plate of strawberries and marshmallows on sticks, and a bowl of melted chocolate.

"This is so cute," you murmur and sit down on the picnic mat.

Minho also takes a seat next to you, unfolding the small blanket to cover your legs. He pops the champagne open and pours it into two flutes, handing one to you afterward.

"To us!" He says.

You chuckle as it reminds you of everything you've been through together, "to us!"

You take a long sip and the champagne helps you lighten up from the jitters that's been eating you inside since this afternoon.

"Just so you know, I never broke up with someone this many times," you poke fun at him.

"Me too," he agrees.

"But I think that's what makes me realize that you're the one," you tell him.

He glances at you and to your surprise, nods in agreement.

"We argued a lot, we fought a lot and I'm not saying that it's good but I think that's why our bond is strong," he further explains.

That's the most he has said so far and you couldn't agree more, the hardships you both went through only strengthen your bond.

-

YOU: For a long time, I've been questioning his feelings for me and I couldn't be more grateful to know that the feelings go both ways. But I need reassurance if we want to take this relationship beyond the retreat.

-

Minho dips the strawberry into the chocolate and feeds it at you, smearing the chocolate all over your lips on purpose.

"What are you going to do about it, mmh?"

He has something planned and it's time to put it in motion. He leans in and slowly licks it off of your lips, just like he did during the icebreaker game.

"That's not a rule break, Lana!" You quickly shout and wipe the rest of the mess with a napkin.

You refill both of your glasses with more champagne and say, "I'm so proud that we came out stronger."

Minho is still bad at expressing his feelings but he's comfortable enough to openly try to speak his thoughts out.

"I think you make me better, you make me want to be someone better," he earnestly says.

"I think we make each other better," you correct him.

You hand him his glass before continuing to speak, "Back home, I wouldn't even try, I would have just walked away from this," you admit with a low laugh.

He smiles in satisfaction and clinks his glass with you, "I'm glad you didn't."

You take a sip and put it away after, you just sit there looking at him with the bonfire cast a warm glow on your face.

At first, Minho thought that you're a little rough on the edges that he didn't dare to jump across but now he knows that it's because you have something to protect inside.

The way you're looking at him now is the proof of it and it makes him thankful that you let him in.

"I have this habit of putting out when I'm into someone and I know that I surprised you with how much I gave to you on the first day and that freaked you out," you explain.

You tuck your hair behind your ear and softly smile at him, "I have learned and I promise that I'll take it slowly from now on."

Minho nods and slyly smiles, "That's alright. I like slow."

You chuckle and sip your wine again, "I can't let you go again, Minho."

His throat suddenly closed up at how you caught him off guard with those words. You sit straighter and take his hand onto your lap, putting your hand on top after.

"I want to take things further with you so what I'm asking is..."

You look down and when you lift your head, you gaze right into his eyes.

"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

-

MINHO: Did that just happen? She asks me to be her boyfriend. BOYFRIEND?!

-

Minho looks so taken aback and worse, he almost choked on his wine when you asked him the big question.

You start to feel queasy the longer it takes for him to answer or even speak a word to you. You clasp his hand for support, unconsciously telling him how nervous you are that he clears his throat.

"You want me to be your boyfriend?" He asks again.

You nervously smile and nod.

"Only if you say please!" He teases with a grin.

You consider it for a moment and refrain, shaking your head at him, "I wouldn't go that far to have a boyfriend," you joke.

He drains his wine and puts it away, "Well, then, I have to ask you the same question."

You have stopped playing this game but not going to lie, your heart is pitter-patting as he's toying around with the question.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?" He asks.

You groan in complaint, "Not fair! I asked you first!"

"Rock, paper, scissors?" He offers another solution to solve this issue.

You usually win but for Minho, you're willing to lose for him. You sigh and meekly say, "Yeah, okay, you win. I want to be your girlfriend."

The half smirk is plastered to his face, he leans in and says, "You forget the magic word again."

You groan again and throw yourself at him until he topples to the back, sending both of you down on the picnic mat.

-

YOU: What can I say? We're just meant for each other.

-

Minho laughs as he catches you jumping at him, deciding to lie on the picnic mat with you and continue the heartfelt talk.

"Of course, I want you to be my boyfriend," You tell him with eyes that melt his insides.

He tips his head to the side and smiles, "Yeah?"

"I want you all to myself," you reply.

"That's good," he says, "because I couldn't think of a better man for you but me."

To be honest, Minho feels a little nervous about starting a relationship, but this feels right and you're right. With you, he feels like he can do anything, invincible.

The watches chime and you squeal as you notice that it turns green, "Oh, I want to kiss you so badly since this morning," you whine and bring his face close to kiss him.

This is what Minho does best, showing you his love through actions. So he kisses you with all of his heart until it aches but amazingly, his heart is still full of warm feelings.

You smile as you pull away from the kiss and wipe his lips before going in for another kiss. However Minho has another idea, he crashes his body at yours and pins you under.

"Okay, now pull your panties down!" He jokingly says, playfully pulling at the hem of your dress.

Instead of that, he lowers his mouth on you again while the light is still green, making the most of it and the time he has in this retreat.

-

MINHO: I want to leave this retreat with her so of course I want her to be my girlfriend.

-

Both of you come back from your date a little after Luca and Maisie, step into the cabana as they're telling everyone about their date.

You feel bad for taking everyone's attention away from them, but at the same time, you can't wait to tell everyone that you and Minho are officially dating now.

"Just a short announcement," you begin while holding Minho's hand, "Minho and I are official now."

"What?" Agnes squeals and collapses onto her bed, laughing and cheering.

"Congratulations!" Luca says, also with disbelief on his face.

You understand that it's kind of hard for everyone to believe that you and Minho ended up dating each other.

Looking back at what you both been through, you can't believe it yourself that you'd actually grow and make each other better.

Lana chimes and stops you from getting sentimental.

"Congratulations on a great day in the retreat!" She begins.

"You have all made significant progress. The prize fund stands at $130,000."

Esme gasps in response, "That's a lot!"

"As you know, your time here has almost come to an end. However, I have another announcement to make."

Maisie gasps this time, but not in a pleasant way.

"Once I have completed my analysis, I'll announce the finalists with a chance to win the prize fund and there'll be one of you who goes home with the money."

Everyone gets excited whenever Lana mentions the money, but considering that you and Minho are the biggest spenders, you possibly have lost the chance to win the prize.

Everyone is buzzing in wonder and excitement for who's going to take home the $130,000 but not you. You're feeling a little blue at the fact that the retreat is going to end soon.

You hug him as he's lying close to you and whine, "I'm sad just from thinking of being away from you."

You didn't plan on crying, but somehow you get carried away by all kinds of emotions that are happening to you in the last 24 hours and no one can see you cry with the lights out.

Minho hears your sniffles and looks at you, "You're crying?"

You hit his chest for asking when he can say it. You bury your face into his chest again and ignore him chuckling after seeing you cry.

After a moment, he kisses you on the forehead, then says, "How about I stay with you for a month, mmh?"

Your ears perk up and you look up from his chest, "Really?"

He nods and puts the stray hair away from your face, "Yeah."

Minho does like you and it still amazes you how different he is from the one you met at the beginning of the retreat.

"And we can have sex for like... every hour," he adds along with his half-smirk.

"Every hour?" You as with your eyes widening.

"Yeah," he answers without a beat.

You've seen him working out and you can guarantee that he has the stamina to make that happen. But it goes way beyond that, he makes a real effort to make this relationship work and you're happy with it.

"Can't wait!" You respond and kiss him on his neck.

-

YOU: I was not expecting to feel this way for someone in such... a little time. I'm so grateful for him.

-

There are only a few hours left to the retreat and everyone is soaking up the sun as much as they can.

Minho spends his morning in a workout session with Jai by the beach like most of the days he spent in the retreat.

"Who would have thought that we'd be leaving as boyfriends, huh?" Jai says.

Minho curls his lips into a lopsided smile and puts down his dumbbell.

"But you and her, man. Now, that's a plot twist!" Jai says with an impressed smile.

Not only Jai, he still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he's someone's boyfriend now. But it's kind of exciting instead of scary.

Lana calls everyone to the cabana right after he finishes his workout. He finds you patting a space next to you on the sofa.

It's funny to him that he gets excited just to sit next to you.

Since both of you agreed that the chance of any of you being a finalist is slim, Minho will support whoever it is because Lana knows best.

-

MINHO: I think everyone has gone through their journey and shown so much growth, the winner could be anybody at this point.

-

"Hello, everyone!"

"Hi, Lana!"

This is the loudest you ever heard of everyone replying to Lana but there's also this shadow looming over everyone's head, mostly because everyone is secretly hoping to be the one bringing home the money.

"I have now conducted my final analysis. While I acknowledge you have all shown great progress, three finalists in particular stand out for the transformational journeys they've been on and one of them will take the prize."

Everyone is eyeing each other and making their own assessment as to who the top three are. You calmly watch it unfold while holding Minho's hand on your lap.

"The first finalist is... Jai and Agnes!"

Jai's mouth hangs open as Agnes hastily presses a kiss on his cheek out of joy. You applaud them for being the first finalist.

"The second finalist is... Luca!"

You kind of expected this one because he has changed so much from the one you met on the first day you came to the villa.

You're more than happy to see someone who deserves it make the top three and Minho seems to agree too, you know they're close.

"The third and the last finalist is..."

You have an inkling that it's going to be one of the girls. The safe bet is Maisie, who was once your competition to get Minho but now, it just sounds so silly to you.

You miss whose names Lana is calling until Esme shakes your arm and tells you to get up.

"It's you and Minho!" She says.

"What?" You innocently ask.

"You're the finalist!" Luca says with a grin.

You turn to look at Minho and he's just as surprised as you, not expecting Lana to choose both of you, not after you both once committed the biggest sin in the retreat.

Minho helps you get up from the sofa as Lana orders the three finalists to stand up.

"One of you will be leaving the retreat with the prize fund. For the rest of you who are not selected, the decision on who will win lies with all of you."

You and Minho look at each other in unison, perhaps getting discouraged now that everyone would likely not going to vote for you both.

"Finalists, please leave the cabana while the voting takes place."

Obeying Lana, the five of you are leaving the cabana and decide to wait in the bedroom. You plop down on the bed and rest your head on Minho's shoulder, feeling a little faint.

"Whoever wins. I'm proud of you all," Luca says.

Minho suddenly laughs and says, "I don't think any of them will vote for us."

You second his comment with a nod and clasp your hand with his.

"Who knows? You guys went through war to get here," Jai disagrees and reaches for Minho's shoulder to pat him.

-

YOU: Who would have thought that the biggest spender in the retreat is one of the finalists, huh?

-

The dressing room is crowded and everyone is just so excited for tonight, but also try to soak in this moment a  little longer.

It's always the little things that we tend to remember the most. The finalists are being held off and not allowed to come out until they get called out.

Minho can feel that you're nervous from how rigid your body is as you sit on his lap. He has to sneak a glass of wine to the dressing room to make you relax.

"Why are you so nervous?" He asks.

You shrug and say, "I don't know."

The show might have not been what he expected but it's never been about money for Minho. He wanted some fun but he comes home with a girlfriend? That's real growth.

As the third finalist, you and Minho are the last to enter the party.

Everyone is cheering and clapping, passing a glass of champagne around for a toast.

"Speaking for myself, I have the best time in my life here and I want to thank you for every single one of you," Luca sincerely says.

Everyone raises their glass before taking a sip and Lana chimes at the right time with the familiar dings sound and purple-hued lights.

"Oh, my God! This will be the last time Lana speaks to us," Esme points out and turns it sentimental.

"Good evening, everyone!" Lana begins with her usual greeting.

"Hi, sweet Lana!" you cheerily answer.

"During your stay at the retreat, you have broken my rules 15 times."

You glance at Minho and say, "Whoops?!"

"Sorry, Lana baby!" Agnes apologized with a sly grin.

"However, I have observed you all commit to the process, acknowledge your failures, and show significant change."

Minho can feel you start squeezing his hand on your lap.

"The time has now come to announce the winner of the $130,000 prize."

One of you has to stay composed and Minho knows that you're too nervous for that so he volunteers to fill that role for both of you.

"Finalists, please stand up!" Lana commands.

-

MINHO: Whatever happens, I'm winning [smiles]

-

You can hear your heart in your ears as you stand next to Minho and wait for Lana to announce the winner.

You take deep breaths and remind yourself that win or not, you will come home with something more valuable than any material things in the world.

Well, someone, to be exact.

You smile whenever you see Minho and that he's the real prize of this retreat.

"Your fellow guests have voted and I have the results," Lana informs.

Everyone suddenly turns quiet and tense at the same time. You take more deep breaths to calm yourself.

"On the third place is... Jai and Agnes!"

A round of applause is directed toward them and they deserve to be proud of themselves for their growth in the retreat as a couple. Agnes kisses him on the cheek and Jai returns it with a kiss on the forehead.

Then it hits you that the possibility that you win this is up to fifty percent. Minho flashes a smile at Luca when you can't even smile when every part of your body is tense.

"The person leaving with $130,000 is..."

You block both ears with your fingers and hide in Minho's chest, not ready to hear the result.

Everything suddenly turns loud and Minho grabs you hard into a tight hug.

"We lost?" you ask him as you hug him back.

Minho doesn't answer but someone comes and hugs you from behind.

"Congrats, my baby!" Agnes exclaims so close to your ear.

"Wait, what? We won?" you ask everyone around but they're too busy to hug you in turns.

-

YOU: [Looks at Minho] I can't believe it still.

MINHO: Yeah.

YOU: We made it!

-

Someone hands Minho a bottle of champagne, he gives it a good shake before popping it open, spraying it at Luca as a fellow finalist.

"Your time at the retreat is over and the rules no longer apply," Lana announces for the last time.

He wastes no time to pull you close and presses a kiss on your lips. Victory is sweet but not as sweet as the taste of your

He has to admit that he's going a little loopy knowing that he can kiss you whenever and how many times he wants.

"Oh, my God! I like you so much," you sigh the second he pulls away from the kiss.

"I like you so much," he says back, going in for another kiss, and pours all of his heart out.

-

YOU: The rules are off!

MINHO: We can go all the way now.

YOU: [Nods] [looks at Minho] Oh... yeah.

MINHO: [Leans in] [Kisses you] [Turns to the camera] You can't stop us now, Lana.

YOU: [Laughs] We go all the way, baby!

-

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[milaisreading]

CD!YN does that accidental rizz all the time to the boys. They trip and she catches them. Stray football flying towards them? She blocks it. They twist their ankle? She carries them princess style to the infirmary.

🌱🩷: Here it goes! Hope you like the fic and thanks for the request!

Warning: Reader uses she/her, but since she is crossdressing the boys use he/him. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Isagi. Rin. Stop arguing, you two. We are not going anywhere with this and we still have to practice." (Y/n) called out as her, Aryu, and Tokimitsu watched the two bicker about God knows what now.

"He started it! If he stopped being in my way I wouldn't be arguing!" Rin said as Isagi pouted.

"In your way?! We are practicing together here!"

'They act like kids.' (Y/n) looked at them in disbelief as they continued arguing like nothing happened.

'Ok. That's it. This is worse than when I had to teach Reo and Nagi.' She thought as she walked to one of the abandoned balls and kicked them in their direction.

"Watch out!" Tokimitsu yelled as Aryu looked at (Y/n) in surprise. Luckily, Isagi and Rin noticed the football and moved away, so the ball just flew between them and into the wall.

"Huh..." Isagi gulped as he looked back at (Y/n) while Rin silently backed away as she gave them a tight smile.

"You two... What did I say about arguing for no reason?" She asked cheerfully, walking closer to them.

"To... to not do it." Isagi said back.

"And what did you two do?"

"Argue for no reason." Now it was Rin's turn.

"Exactly. 20 laps around the training grounds. Now."

"What?! Since when do you have a say in this?" Rin asked as he shook a little in fear.

"So 30, then?"

"I-"

"40?" She interrupted Isagi, causing the two to quickly shake their heads.

"We will run! We will run!" They said as (Y/n) nodded her head, unaware of Tokimitsu's awestruck look and Aryu's swooning.

'Amazing! He is so brave for that!!' Tokimitsu thought while blushing.

'What grace and dashing confidence! I like that!' Aryu thought in return as (Y/n) looked back at the two.

'Do they have a fever?' She wondered in worry when she noticed their red faces.

⚽️

Now, (Y/n) wasn't familiar with friendships and their bonds. Her whole life she mostly spent her time playing football, studying, or going to some random gatherings with her family. The most she got of the experience of friendships was from Reo and Nagi back in Hakuho, and even that wasn't much. But, if there was one thing she knew, it is that you shouldn't ignore someone in distress. Especially when it was someone she could consider her friend. That's how she found herself walking up to Niko when she noticed him walking back and forth one night after it was already past everyone's bedtime.

"Are you ok, Niko? Why are you up so late?" She asked in worry as the youngest contestant looked at her in surprise.

"Oh... I am fine. I just couldn't sleep." The boy admitted, causing (Y/n) to rise an eyebrow.

"And why is that? Today's exercises would have made anyone fall asleep." (Y/n) argued back as the boy quietly looked down.

"You know, you can tell me if something bothers you. I don't mind listening." She offered, her tone softening a little as she leaned her back against the wall, something Niko copied soon after.

"Well... I just don't know if I want to be here anymore." Niko admitted, surprising the girl.

"And why is that? You are holding up very well, and your skills are great, too."

"It's just, I remembered something. It's all." The boy said, not ready to confess that the words of his high school bullies were haunting him. (Y/n) kept on looking at the boy, wondering what to do or say.

'I always felt at peace when my nanny or mom would pet my head. Maybe that works here as well?' She thought, slowly moving her hand on top of Niko's hair.

'It's so soft!' She thought, mot noticing the boy tense up or his face turn red.

"Whatever is bothering you is normal. We all have our doubts here, but don't let them control your life." She said softly.

"A-alright." Niko stuttered out. Noticing his nervousness, (Y/n) panicked a little and tried to move her hand a way.

"Sorry about that! It's something my mom used to do-"

"It's ok! I like it!" Niko quickly said and grabbed her hand, moving it back on his hair.

⚽️

"Chigiri? Are you doing alright? You seem quite out of breath." (Y/n) asked in worry as the redhead looked back at her, quickly nodding his head.

"I am fine! Don't worry! I can still stand! My leg is alright!"

"I never asked about your leg." (Y/n)'s words caused Chigiri to flinch and he looked down on the ground as (Y/n) walked closer to him.

"Your ankle hurts, I am guessing." She said, not getting an answer in return, which pretty much confirmed her suspicions.

"Look, I am fine. I can handle this, let's just continue on with our practice." Chigiri argued, a little bit embarrassed by the whole thing. (Y/n), being more stubborn here than he was just sighed and walked up to Chigiri, quickly picking him up.

"Huh?!" The redhead let out surprised, looking back at (Y/n) with a red face.

"What... What are you doing?!"

"Taking you to the infirmary, and then you will rest. You already did enough for the day." (Y/n) answered simply as the boy started protesting.

"But we need to practice-"

"Your well being comes first, Chigiri. Please don't argue with me over this." (Y/n) warned as she continued to carry Chigiri down the hallway. The boy could feel his heartbeat quickening as he looked back at (Y/n), not saying anything for a minute or two.

"Why do you care so much?" (Y/n) looked back at Chigiri in confusion.

"I just do. I don't like seeing you hurt... or anyone else on that matter." (Y/n) stated.

'He cares for me that much?!' Chigiri thought happily as his face got redder.

'Another fever?!' (Y/n() thought in worry as she noticed that.

⚽️

"Food! Finally! Its been so long since I ate!" (Y/n) exclaimed as Karasu, Otoya, and Yukimiya looked at her in amusement.

"You say that like you are getting starved here or something." Karasu teased, poking (Y/n)'s cheek. Yukimiya chuckled and put and arm around the excited girl's shoulder.

"Leave him alone. It's kinda cute when you get like this, you know." Yukimiya said while winking earning an eyeroll from Otoya and Karasu.

"Huh? Like what? Also, what do you all think we will get for desserts today? It is a Saturday, after all." She wondered, oblivious to Yukimiya's words, which caused Otoya to laugh a little.

"Your flirting skills are so mid, Yukki."

"Whatever." Yukimiya sent Otoya a side-glare, but still kept his arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders.

"Let's just get him some food." Karasu argued, pinching (Y/n)'s cheek as she protested at that behavior.

Once they were in the dining hall, the group walked to an empty table with their meals in hand.

'Delicious!' (Y/n) thought while munching on her food, too lost in her thoughts to notice the trio looking at her while blushing.

'So cute!' Yukimiya sighed.

'I bet it would be even better to pinch his cheeks now...' Karasu blushed while fighting back the urge to grab the other player's cheeks.

'So adorable! I can die happily knowing I witnessed this!' Otoya thought as he put some of his food in front of (Y/n).

"Take some of my food as well." Otoya said, surprising the girl.

"But, it's yours-"

"No! Take mine! The grilled chicken us way better!" Yukimiya argued, pushing Otoya's food away.

"No! Here! These veggies are way better." Karasu argued as the trio glared at each other.

"Ahh... I am fine with the food I have." But her words were ignored.

⚽️

It was one of the rare few days when the Blue Lock team could go home and relax for a bit. And on this day in particular (Y/n) had agreed to meet up with Isagi to watch a movie that recently came out.

"Isagi!! There you are! Sorry, I had to get ready and I didn't notice how late I was." The blue-eyed boy looked away from his phone and towards (Y/n), freezing up for a moment before slowly shaking his head.

"I-it's alright. I arrived here a few minutes ago as well..." The boy said back as his face slowly turned red the more he looked at (Y/n).

"Oh, thank God. Sorry, I had to figure out how this eyeliner worked, it's my first time putting it on."  The girl explained taking in a few breathes and looked back at Isagi. The girl and boy kept looking at each other in silence for a few minutes, which caused her to grow self-conscious.

"I... It looks ridiculous, doesn't it?" She gulped nervously as she looked down at her dress. Isagi quickly shook his head quickly and started speaking with a red face.

"You look great! You look great! The dress suits you. And the make-up as well!" (Y/n)'s face turned dark red for a moment and she slowly nodded her head.

"O-oh... You think?"

"Yep! Beautiful." Isagi said quickly.

"Th-thanks. I am glad. You look nice as well." She said back as they stared at each other in silence for a moment.

"S-so... should we go?"

"Yeah! Absolutely, we should go and get our snacks as well."

'So pretty!' Isagi thought as they walked towards the cinema, glancing at the girl a few times.

⚽️

"Bachira, no."

"Bachira, yes."

'What am I even looking at?' (Y/n) thought as she looked between Reo and Bachira, who were arguing over something stupid, probably.

"What are they arguing about now?" She asked Nagi, who shrugged his shoulders and leaned against her shoulder.

"Bachira had an idea for a new trick him and Reo could perform during the U-20 match and, well, Reo isn't all too happy with the idea." Nagi explained, resting his head on her shoulders.

'He smells really nice.' Nagi thought with a small blush, which the girl ignored.

"Arguing won't get us anywhere now." She rolled her eyes and walked over to the duo, to which Nagi pouted and followed right after.

"You two, we need to practice. You can argue after we are done with the match." (Y/n) said, catching the attention of the two.

"But, my plan is fool-proof! Tell Reo to listen to me!" Bachira pouted as Reo chimed in.

"It's stupid as hell! I am not taking part in it!"

"Coward."

"What did you just call me?!"

(Y/n) looked between the two while Nagi silently leaned against her again.

'What to do... what to do... Maybe bribing will work?!' (Y/n) thought as she cleared her throat, catching the arguing duo's attention.

"Ah! I will give you two my lunch if you stop arguing!" This statement caused Reo and Bachira to stop arguing and blinked at her for a while.

"You will give us..."

"...your food?" Bachira and Reo said at the same time, seemingly in a daze at first, but quickly got out of it as (Y/n) nodded her head.

"Ok!"

"Sounds like a plan!"

The two cheered as Nagi tugged on the hem of her shirt.

"I want food from you as well."

"Uh? Ok." (Y/n) said in confusion, unaware of the satisfied smiles on Bachira and Reo.

⚽️

"I know this isn't much fun, but I hope you like it here." Gagamaru said quietly as (Y/n) looked away from her grilled fish and at him.

"What do you mean?" She asked as she took a bite from her food.

"Well, you probably didn't want to spend your weekend camping when you agreed for a hang out."

"Huh? I don't care about that. Besides, it's nice to get out of the city once in a while."

"Hmmm...." Gagamaru nodded his head slowly, unsure if he should believe her or not. The noticed it and silently ate her fish, trying to think of a way to cheer him up. The quietness stayed like that for a few minutes until she patted his back and spoke up.

"You are fun to hang out with, Gagamaru. And I am enjoying my time in the forest with you. Don't think too much about that." The boy tensed up and looked back at her.

"Really?"

"Really. Don't cut yourself short." She smiled over at Gagamaru, who slowly nodded his head as his face heated up.

"Th-thanks!" Gagamaru nodded his head as he quickly ate his food again.

'Is he sick now as well?!' She thought in worry.

⚽️

"Can I have some of that?" Kunigami wondered, pointing at (Y/n)'s stake. The girl stopped eating and looked at the orange-haired boy, who was giving her puppy eyes.

"Oh, sure-"

"Get your own food, hero. That's (Y/n)'s." Barou interrupted before she could finish, which caused Kunigami to roll his eyes at him.

"I just wanted one bite-"

"I don't care it's kot your food." Barou said again as (Y/n) tried to interrupt their arguing.

"It's ok. I don't mind-"

"You should really learn to mind your business, Barou."

"Right back at you. Why are you even sitting with us here?"

The girl felt a headache come up and she cut up two smaller slices of her stake. One she fed to Barou and the other to Kunigami.

"There. You can leave the argument behind now." She said, going back to eating as the two stared at her with red faces.

'He really fed me his food! Take that, Chigiri!' Kunigami thought as Barou stared at her in a daze.

⚽️

"Kaiser, I swear to God, if you don't shut up I will kick a football in your face."

"What was that, princess? Was that you saying you are finally devoting your skills to me?" Kaiser smirked at the agitated girl. The duo continued arguing as Kurona and Hiori stared at them with confused and amused looks.

"I am happy (Y/n) is feeling better today. That fever yesterday scared me a lot." Hiori said as Kurona nodded along.

"I am, too. If only Kaiser would stop provoking him now." The rehead said as Hiori silently agreed. They were both pretty much agitated by Kaiser stealing her attention from them.

'Arrogant asshole.'

'Loud mouth.' Hiori and Kurona thought, completely forgetting that some players were practicing behind them. Sadly, they only remembered after they heard Gesner yell at them to.move away. Hiori and Kurona turned around, only to notice a football flying fast their way. Closing their eyes, the boys stayed still, waiting for the football to hit them, only for it to never come.

"Huh?" Hiori muttered, slowly opening his eyes.

"What happened?" Kurona wondered as he opened his eyes as well, only for the both of them to see (Y/n) panting and holding the football in her hands.

"Are you both alright?" She asked, looking at the duo in worry, the two slowly realizing what had happened.

"I am fine." Hiori swooned and nodded his head.

'He really ran all the way so I won't get hurt~'

"I am fine as well. Thank you." Kurona said as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink.

'He is the best! I love him.'

"Nothing to thank me for." (Y/n) quickly answered and put away the football.

⚽️

"Here." (Y/n) said as she pushed a piece of cake in Rin's direction. The sulking boy stopped whatever he was thinking and looked at the piece of cake and then at (Y/n), who was sending him a smile.

"What is this for?" Rin asked with raised eyebrow as the girl shrugged her shoulders.

"It's for you. You looked a little troubled and a little bit of cake always helps people out. Don't you think so?" She said playfully. Rin was dumbfounded as he stared at her and slowly nodded his head, still trying to understand what she just did for him.

"Great! Enjoy the cake and don't go too late to bed." (Y/n) said as she waved at Rin while leaving the dining hall.

"Of...of course." Rin said as he waved back numbly, his own face turning redder and redder.

'He gave me some cake... (Y/n) gave ME some cake...' He kept on thinking while slowly eating the piece.

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - XI - I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU BEFORE, IT'S NOT GON’ END HOW YOU WANT 🥀

Full Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

RIO MASTERLIST

MOODBOARD 🖼️

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~4.3K

Warning: NSFW, 18+, this one's 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️

Authors Note: The finale is here, this is the series' last chapter. I don't want to spoil anything so enjoy 😊

XI - I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU BEFORE, IT'S NOT GON’ END HOW YOU WANT 🥀

You look around at all the smiling faces as the party dies down. Exhaling you find your eyes at the dessert table only to find them absent of all the sweet treats you’d spent the morning agonising over. There was hardly any food left in the aluminium trays either but people seemed satisfied enough. You find your mother and Tia’s sharing a laugh and everyone else enjoying themselves similarly. You can’t remember a time in recent years where you’ve felt this peaceful and sure about where life was taking you. When you first discovered James’ infidelity it had been heartbreaking. You felt like your marriage or at least the image you had of it was over and so were the happiest times of your life. You felt like your next chapter would have been tears and shame for being a divorcee, being unable to keep a man or worse yet, not being able to leave and somehow being convinced to stay in misery. It was the reason you sought to get even in the first place. You’d have been comfortable with a subtle betrayal. A betrayal all the same, not equal to an affair but equally as devastating to James’ ego. Whether or not you decided to share your indiscretions in the beginning it was enough just to know you were no longer giving him your all when all he had was pieces for you, and not even the best parts. If only you had known then what you know now. You’d been selling yourself short of endlessly appealing possibilities right around the corner. There was no need to cry. James didn't deserve you and he was far from the big fish he positioned himself as. He didn't have enough good qualities for you to be as wrapped up in him as you were. If you had vision then you would’ve left the minute he started acting up. 

You read the final divorce decree one more time and smile seeing you’ve won all the contested points along with all your entitlements. James has been a kitten since hisincident. He’s been pleasant every single time you’ve come across him for a hearing and signed the papers no problem. There’ve been no more stupid messages and you’ve been free to move forward without prying eyes and stress. Even James’ mother had relaxed her tone and all of the betrayal talk. You know it's because of Rio, although you’ve never talked about it. Being a part of his life for these past few months has made one thing clear; he’s ready for war about anyone he loves. You were free to move on officially. Freedom had ever felt so good. It was slow mornings without the need to prepare lunches or rushing to look presentable only for it to be disregarded and unappreciated. It was teaching classes at the yoga studio in the afternoons and sometimes shopping or lavish dinners and cafes in the evenings. It was the kind of life most dream of - especially after something so tumultuous and you were acutely aware and infinitely grateful for your new reality. You smell his cologne and the hair on the back of your neck stands up before you feel familiar hands take your hips pulling them gently to rest against him. Your body relaxes further as you look at everyone in your new place enjoying themselves.

“You did so good decorating this place they don't want to leave” Rio mutters, placing a kiss on your cheek.

“It’s only nine” you defend your guests.

“The food is gone and they’ve been here since three” he complains and you turn to face him amused with his possessiveness. The past few weeks had been wearing him thin. He’d been working so hard managing his establishments and deliveries to your place he was stressed.

“Oh shit, my cousins’ back. That means we gotta leave before the not so subtle remarks start” Tia says aloud. Instead of awkward silence there’s laughter. Rio’s never been one to hide who he is or make apologies for it.

“Oooh look at the time! I’m missing my show” Your mom says shooting up from her seat, you roll your eyes knowing she’s headed to the guest suites in your building to watch her crush on television.

“Let’s help clean up this housewarming, divorce party” Marisol remarks, always considering others.

“Ladies, it’s taken care of. Drive safe” Rio interjects, waving them off. It shouldn’t surprise you that he’s got it handled but it does.

“There’s that personality we know and love” Tia scoffs now in front of you. “Drive safe? That’s pretty polite Y/N, your manners are rubbing off, usually it would be it’s time to leave, go”  Tia teases, hugging you.

“Thanks for coming Tee and I know, I’m going to love whatever it is in that huge box” you smile.

“Oh I know you will. Call me tomorrow love” She smiles, kissing your cheek.

“Bye Tia” Rio rasps as she adjusts her purse on her shoulder.

“Stop stressing it doesn't look good on you. People always love the Rio experience the restaurant will do as well as all the others”  Tia says giving Rio a hug.

“She’s right” you add with a smile, Rio does the same. More of the same goodbyes happen until the place is empty. Then like clockwork four women wearing cleaning uniforms walk in, getting to work.

“Did I tell you I love you today?” You ask looking up at Rio.

“You did, love you too” Rio responds lowering to pull you into a kiss. It’s slow and just as meaningful as his first I love you’s. That had occurred on your first real official date and on a beach. A replica of the night James had stolen from you in Mexico with that stupid message. The beachouse was gorgeous as was the experience. No matter how busy work got Rio never missed an opportunity to show his love for you. It was something you didn't know you needed until being with him.

“How long are they gonna be?” you whisper and Rio chuckles knowing what’s on his mind is the exact same thing that's on yours.

“About an hour, they’re the best. It'll be like no one was here” Rio whispers in response. You watch as your presents are piled into a corner, and you can't remember the last time you were loved so generously but a community of people.

“Your family is sooooo good to me Rio” you tell him honestly. Each of the few women that had been invited to celebrate the day with you came with full hands. While the women in your family came with mostly envelopes from the older crowd. They’d already given you so much after your wedding, it felt wrong to ask for more during your divorce. The invitations were devoid of requests for gifts but still no one came empty handed. Everyone in attendance had decided that the joint venture Housewarming and Divorce party deserved both gifts and commotion.

“Family knows treating you right goes a long way with me” Rio mutters as you move out of the kitchen to let the cleaners have their space.

“Have you eaten?” you ask Rio.

“Not hungry” he says, stopping you from making him a plate before the food is discarded.

“Baby, I need you to take the day off tomorrow to spend it with me. No restaurant talk, no stress, just good food and us” you tell him. It’s your first request of this type and you know Rio will oblige it.

“Ok” he agrees at the same time as his work phone sounds. Exhaling, he answers with his eyes closed and his shoulders fall. “I’ll be there in thirty” he sighs.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go handle this” Rio says, giving you a little PTSD.

“Okay, let me change out of this dress and come with you” you swallow.

“It can't wait Mama, if you're coming it has to be now” Rio responds. Nodding you grab your phone and a purse before grabbing his hand. You know it's gonna be bad with how silent he is. It’s something you’ve learned about him. He gets silent and then he’s in the zone which can be either really good or bad depending on where you fit in the spectrum. Always the gentleman he gets the door for you and you ride off into the darkness with him in the G-Wagon. The drive into the heart of the city takes you thirty minutes giving Rio time to stew in his anger. There are bustling business all around and you cringe having overheard a few calls of Rio admonishing contractors for the delays and imperfections. Rio was ‘bleeding money’ as he put it and you could visualise what that meant now more than ever.

“Baby, when we get in there let’s try to be calm” you interject as he parks out front.

“I love you and your softness but that’s not good for business” Rio says getting out of the car. He gets your door and you hold his hand hoping to transfer some good energy to him as his body stiffens. He opens the door and your jaw drops at the fruit of his labour. It’s the most gorgeous restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. Something straight out of a dream.

“I’ll be back” he says, kissing your forehead and striding off as you look around. The place looks like a tropical oasis. The rich green foliage on the walls and ceilings put the hairstylist salon walls to shame. It’s like a lush upscale botanical garden. You just know it’ll be all over social media once the door’s open. There are three levels as far as your eyes can see and two glass pod booths that seem suspended in the air. You know Rio and that the experience of being up there probably costs a fortune.  Hearing Rio’s footsteps return you exhale in admiration of his accomplishments.

“Christopher, you gotta take it easy on this team, it's gorgeous here. I think it’s your best work yet” You tell him honestly.

“I need this one to be prefect and they fucked up the sign” he snaps. Frowning you follow him outside.

“Nobody’s gonna care about the sign when inside looks liiiiii-” your words hitch as the sign lights up. Your heart races and body heats as you read your name in bright lights that are your favourite colour in fluorescence. You’re at a complete loss for words and feel tears stinging as you turn to Rio who you find on bended knee. 

Your heart hitches.

Breathes cease.

Vision blurs.

Sound becomes muffled and you blink to everything happening in slow motion. 

Rio, the proudest man you’ve ever met is on one knee in the middle of the city for you. Outside of the most gorgeous venue, restaurant, whatever, you have ever laid eyes on, that is also named after you? You can feel your brain begin to short circuit.

“I’m not good with speeches. All I know is that this is the happiest I've been in my entire life. You make me better in every way baby, and I want forever to experience life with you. Forever you make you happy, to appreciate you and love you. Please Y/N, say yes and be my wife” he says with his brown eyes shining in the well lit street. Your eyes have been locked on his the entire time you haven't looked at the shimmering rock waiting to grace your finger. The literal ring of your dreams. 

Perfection.

“Yes” you tell him, nodding furiously. Smiling Rio stands and you kiss him hard before he puts on the ring. There's cheering outside from strangers and onlookers. You smile looking at your ring as Rio takes you inside only for you to be startled by the cheering of both of your families. Including the ladies you just said goodbye to.

“Rio, baby it’s perfect” you swallow about to lose it and he hugs you tight. Family and friends give you a moment to enjoy the proposal and this time when Rio kisses you the hooting and hollering is from loved ones.

Your heart is beyond full.

Turning back to Rio you wonder how he managed all of this, how he’d managed to make this happen so perfectly in so little time.

“No wonder you were stressed” you smile, kissing him again. “How’d you keep all this from me?” you ask.

“Tia helped” Rio smiles holding you.

“Congratulations baby girl!” Your mom beams taking you and Rio into a group hug. “Christopher baby, I love how you love my daughter and I’m so happy for the both of you” your mom smiles giving you a kiss on the cheek each.

“Thanks Ma.” Rio smiles melting your heart even more. 

The ground floor is turned into a dance floor and after the congratulations are in order people begin to party.  You mingle and smile for pictures while letting people see the ring. It's exciting, it's overwhelming, it's heartwarming, it's real love. Processing the day you sit still on your fiance’s lap trying to piece together how he’d managed such an expression of love. How he’d seamlessly put together a proposal far better than anything you could have fathomed in so little time. How there were details to reflect your personality all over the space. You place your palm over his as he holds you close. Your life has changed so much in so little time. The difference between then and now is so glaring. One man, if James could be called that, was constantly busy and made up excuses to inflate his ego and importance of his job. All while while he was cheating and left you at your anniversary dinner alone to appease his mistress. The other man, Rio really was busy as an entrepreneur and yet he did not exploit your lack of questioning, he’d honoured your trust with loyalty and devotion. While James had been whoring outside of your marriage, Rio had been toiling away to build a strong covenant.

“Rio, tell your staff to lock up. Let them party, I want to go home” you tell him ready for some one on one time.

“Tia and Granny said there are supposed to be speeches” Rio informs as you turn to face him. No response is required as you raise a brow countering his point with one of his infamous raised brow ‘Rio’ looks. Smiling in an instant he stands with you.

“Come on mama” he says walking you out of the venue. There's no time for goodbyes, only time for a last look. “Tia says the announcement photo should be your hand held up wearing the ring against the lit sign. Her reference was Rihanna holding the football for the superbowl” Rio laughs getting your door and you smile.

“Her mind is something” you laugh, shaking your head as Rio closes the door.

Looking down at your ring again you smile holding it out in front of you. It’s the last thing you expected and a very pleasant surprise. You and Rio had spent little to no time talking about marriage. He’d been there as you found your apartment, looked through catalogues for the furnishings and decorated. He’d helped when it was asked of him and he had his key coming over on whatever night you weren’t over at his house. He’d given your space and freedom, never complaining or applying pressure.

“You like it?” Rio asks, drawing you from your thoughts.

“Yes but I love you more” you respond holding over to kiss him at the red light.

“I know,” he nods, holding your hand. “But it was good? The proposal?” He asks.

“Yes!” You swallow, nodding vigorously. “I’m the luckiest girl in the world” you beam believing your words as your ring hits the light glistening once again.

“I love you” he repeats heading into the underground parking of your building. Once in your spot you unbuckle your seat belt and grab his face  and smother him in kisses until he changes the pace, slowing things down so you can feel them in your toes. Your hands fall as things heat up. Rio's hand goes to your neck holding you feel his fingers fasten his hold stabilising you for the kiss. You feel the goosebumps first before the sensations start between your legs. There’s nothing like being with a man who wants you this much. The kiss only breaks when the two of you are panting and breathless. Catching your breath you can see Rio is as ready as you are with the tent pitched in his pants.

“Come on” he says, seeing people walking to their cars. You take his hand once out of the car and head to the elevator. Another couple comes in and you stand in front of Rio hiding his predicament until they step off then you turn to face him. You hope it’s always like this. 

“Promise me it’ll be like this forever” you whisper looking up at him.

“Like what?” he asks as his hands rest on your ass.

“Like you're always happy to see me. We keep our chemistry. I want us to never lose the love and the kindness or the intimacy we share. I don't want to pretend around you or you around me ever. I don't want us to lose us.” you explain and he holds on to your every word. Rio nods, unable to figure out how it seemed everything he’d ever wanted was wrapped up in one person.

“Promise” he affirms without hesitation as the elevator door opens. Smiling, you turn to exit hand in hand. The need to kiss you is too much to wait for the door to open. Crowding your space Rio backs you into your front door kissing you right there. Everything about him makes you feel incredible. You both get lost in the moment and only break a part when breathing takes precedence over passion.

“Anything else you want from me?” Rio asks, ready to make you happy. You tug at his belt playfully in response.

“Babies?” Rio teases.

“Eventually” you laugh.

“Alright mama” Rio smiles unlocking your door and you gasp again completely surprised by another grand gesture. It’s dimly lit and tea light candles are twinkling in vases with red roses and petals adorning your living room and leading to the bedroom you assume.

“Baby” you laugh happier than ever. You hadn’t put any thought into the cleaning staff as another set of people doing Rio’s bidding. He smiles at your surprise. You walk in more feeling the petals under your feet and admire all the effort he’s put into making today special. “Thank you” you smile and he nods accepting your thanks without protest for once.

“You’re welcome” he says into your ear as you look out to see more decor on the balcony. Rio’s hands run down your thighs before coming up with the hemline of your dress. He steps forward leading you against the glass. You’re already wet for him after all the kissing and the day. “Tell me how you want me to fuck you baby?” He asks, calling back to your first time together. There are no words for how it makes you feel. 

He’s everything.

“I want you to tell me how you want me” you whisper placing your full trust in him. His eyes flicker and he backs up sitting on the couch. Excitement flashes in yours and you sit on his lap first.

“Unzip me?” you ask and he does, slowly. Turning you kiss him teasingly before slinking down onto your knees in your undergarments. You unzip him without direction nestled between his legs. He springs free ready to give new life and you kiss your king's sceptre. Your newest accessory sparkles in the candle light. Accentuating every hand stroke. Your eyes stay fixed on your fiancé whose eyes are fixed on you. It had taken some getting used to in the beginning but with practice you were becoming a pro at handling his size. Your head and hand slides to stroke his ego. Soft whispers of praise keep you inspired and aroused. You go to work feeling his body tighten, a precursor to his climax and when his hand guides your head you release control following his lead. You bob to his rhythm, sucking and licking his length to illicit praise. 

“Fuuuuu-” Rio’s words fade, his lids closing shut as the pleasure hits its climax.

You apply more suction continuing to your own rhythm as his hand falls from your head leaving you to your own devices. Looking up at him you take him as deep as you can and it’s his undoing. You stay in place as he tries to save you from the onslaught of his orgasm - you swallow every last drop. The sensation is too much for him. Fiery eyes watch you as his stomach rises and falls. He’s in awe of you. Pleasantly surprised and ready for round two. Kissing his tip having completed your task you revel in the way Rio looks at you. Every day your actions solidified more and more that you were the only one for him. Shaking his head he smiles as his energy returns. He must be the luckiest man in the world to have the most beautiful woman on her knees in front of him ready to do whatever he asked out of love. He feels you take hold of his manhood again as you wait patiently for him to return the favour of an orgasm. The thought alone makes you shudder, that’s how much effect he has on you.

“Are you trying to make my head explode?” He asks, sitting up and forward.

“I did” you tease with your mind in the gutter. 

Rio smiles, “Not that one mama”

“I was trying to please my fiancé” you smile testing out the new title. Rio’s chest burns with pride.

 “Fiancés don’t fuck like where about to mama” Rio promises. “This is too good,” he smiles. Way too good. “Now tell me what you want?” he asks, ready to oblige.

You stand making your way to the floor to ceiling windows and rid yourself of your panties. 

“I'd like you to help me enjoy the view” you smile politely. Rio finds you there unclasping your bra. The coolness of the glass against your nipples adds to the sensation. Anticipation swells as his hands trace your skin, teasing you for time. Rio’s need for you is at ten. There could never be anyone else. Ever. He didn't know what he’d done in a past lifetime to deserve a woman like you but he was thankful. He needed to taste you first, to make you come in waves until your delirium and arousal were so intertwined your lids would shut and moans were his only compass. Nothing tasted sweeter than your arousal and tonight you were wetter than usual as he turned you back to face him, propping one of your legs over his shoulder to better his access to your centre. These past few months he’d learned your body to the point of expertise knowing exactly what to do to get you to your climax. The feel of your hand on his head is another one of your tells. The visual of you swallowing flashes, giving him fuel to make you feel just as good or even better. He needed to make the start of forever special.

“Rio” your moans are breathy as your head arches back against the glass window. Your body goes stiff, only supported by Rio who doesn't let up. The sensations only further your already shallow breathing but do nothing to satisfy your want or need for him. You didn't understand how the by-product of excellent loving was insatiability.

“Right there, come for me” Rio says into your core. He watches you come and matches the same energy you had for him. He allows you to recover wearing a satisfied smirk before standing again. His eyes are on your lips but two slick fingers enter you the very moment he meets you in a kiss. You gasp making room for his tongue to slide in and claim its space.

“Rio” you moan against his kiss as his fingers send you into overstimulation. When he finally enters you your hands flatten onto the cool glass as he groans in pleasure. Rio felt like your body was made for him. Everything about you turned him on. The way your walls clung to his manhood made keeping a clear head hard. He wanted to be inside you all the time. It didn't matter how he delivered his strokes, both of you enjoyed the sensations equally. Placing a piss at the base of the back of your neck he grabs your waist bringing your hips back to meet his rhythm. Looking up, the ring on your finger catches his eye in the light. It ignites something in him and he fucks you lovingly into the glass fogging it up with the heat from your bodies. Eventually the two of you make it to the bed where you make love with a sensuality and awareness that only affirms you’re exactly where you're meant to be with a man that's ever better than your dreams could conjure. 

Showered, exhausted and happier than ever, your eyes watch the blackout curtains close to block out the sunrise. Rio pulls you into his arms and your body settles knowing you're in safe, capable hands. He leans in one more time and his kiss lays a claim to you. You meet him there, happily his; now and forever.

Author's note: Ladies and gentlemen thats all folks. FORGIVELESS is over and out. Thank you so much for reading my story, for commenting, reblogging and voting. You've made this process so much fun. I usually stay away from longer series because the fall off with the readers in the last few chapters kills my motivation to keep sharing but you guys have stuck beside me!!! It's infinitely appreciated. An Epilogue should be posted shortly I just didn't want this post to be overwhelmingly long.

Don't forget to like comment, reblog and vote - you all know the drill by now 😉

The story is also on wattpad you can read it and follow me HERE

EPILOGUE

TAGS: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

Scream For Me.

Serial Killer!Kate Bishop x fem!reader

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, knife play, Overstim, Possesive, dark behaviors, blood/blood play, violence, toxic relationship dynamics, mentions of murder and death, non-con

Authors notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN! We made it through kinktober everyone! Now I'm going to take a break for a bit unless inspo strikes!

“Are you excited for Tony's yearly Halloween bash?” Wanda asks excitedly, sitting next to you in the common area at your college. 

You smile at your best friend, “Of course I'm excited Wands! I've got a great outfit this year. Maybe I'll finally win his costume contest.”

Wanda chuckles and leans against the table, “Are you going to tell me what your costume is or…?” 

“Oh no you'll have to wait and see sweetheart.” You tell her as you start getting your things ready to leave for your next class.

“Will Kate be there?” she asks, looking up at you. 

“Of course she will be.” You smiled at the thought of your girlfriend. You loved her with all of your heart. Kate was a few years younger than Wanda and yourself. A freshman while the two of you were Juniors. 

The moment you met Kate you knew she was your other half. The two of you spent all the time you could together. 

“I'll see you there Wands, okay? I gotta get to this class. If I'm late one more time he's docking me a letter grade.” Wanda shakes her head at you.

“Go on, I'll see you and Kate there.” She says with a sly smile.

At the Halloween party, the atmosphere is vibrant but eerie, with everyone in costumes ranging from creepy to ridiculous to sexy. You and Kate arrive hand-in-hand, your partner’s dark, intense stare never leaving your side, though she occasionally lets it drift over the crowd with a curious gleam.

While you catch up with Wanda, a loud scream rips through the party, sending a chill down your spine. People scramble, and the panic sets in as whispers spread: someone’s been murdered. From that moment, guests start disappearing, the once-packed house thinning out as one by one, people meet their doom. You feel Kate’s grip on your hand tighten as fear begins to gnaw at you.

Finally, when only a few remain, you glimpse a figure in a Ghostface mask lurking in the shadows. As the masked killer advances, you step back—until you realize that Kate is no longer at your side. The realization clicks in slowly, a thrill of horror and intrigue mingling as you begin to piece it together.

Your breath catches as the figure in the Ghostface mask steps forward, the dim lights casting an ominous shadow over the already blood-splattered floors. The killer moves with a confidence that’s disturbingly familiar—slow, calculated steps that feel chillingly precise, almost practiced.

“Kate?” you whisper under your breath, though your voice betrays the suspicion you’ve had for the past few minutes. She can’t hear you, but you feel the weight of her gaze behind the mask, and something within you tells you that this was always part of the plan.

The figure pauses, just feet away from you, and tilts their head as if to say, You figured it out. With trembling hands, you reach for the mask, barely daring to breathe as you lift it.

Beneath the mask is Kate’s face, her eyes glinting with a mischievous spark and a satisfied grin spreading across her lips. “Took you long enough,” she murmurs, her voice low and teasing.

“What… What did you do?” you manage to ask, your voice wavering between terror and fascination. She steps closer, her hands finding their way around your waist, pulling you against her.

“Just made sure it was a party we’d never forget,” she replies nonchalantly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You feel the wet warm blood on her fingers against your skin. Her eyes gleam as she leans in, whispering, “Now lets have some fun babe.”

Despite everything, your pulse quickens—not just from fear but from the dangerous allure of Kate's touch and the promise in her gaze.

Kate’s lips crash against yours in a heated, possessive kiss, her hands tangling in your hair as if you’re the only thing grounding her. When she finally pulls back, there's a wild glint in her eyes as she slips the Ghostface mask back on, her voice dropping to a dark, teasing tone.

“Now it’s time for me to have some real fun,” she purrs. Her fingers trace your jawline, sending a shiver down your spine. “Run,” she commands, her voice dripping with anticipation. “And if I catch you… I’ll have my way with you.”

The thrill shoots through you like lightning. You don’t waste another second, spinning on your heel and darting into the maze of halls in Tony Stark’s sprawling mansion. The house looms around you, full of twists and dead ends. Your heart pounds as you slip through shadowed corridors and dimly lit rooms, the pounding of your footsteps echoing through the halls.

You think you hear her behind you—those calm, measured steps almost mocking you, growing louder. You stumble up the stairs, gasping for air as you push through the nearest door, finding yourself in one of the empty guest rooms. You press your back against the wall, holding your breath, ears straining for the sound of her approach.

A slow, taunting voice filters in through the door. “I can hear your heartbeat, you know,” Kate calls. Her words wrap around you, each syllable drenched with dark amusement. “Did you really think you could hide from me?”

Your heart skips a beat as you realize she’s right outside, just beyond the thin barrier of the door. The doorknob turns slowly, and you brace yourself as she steps inside, the mask tilted just enough that her eyes pierce through the dim light, locked solely on you.

The chase is over, and she knows it.

As soon as she steps inside, you dart for the door, hoping to slip past her and make it just a little farther. But Kate’s reflexes are sharp, her hand snapping out to grab your wrist with an iron grip. In one swift motion, she spins you around and presses you firmly against the wall, her body caging you in place.

You’re caught between the cold wall and the heat of her presence, her fingers digging into your wrists as she pins them above your head. Her breathing is steady, almost calm, while yours comes in ragged gasps. She tilts her head, her eyes visible through the mask, smoldering with an intensity that sends shivers through you.

“Thought you could get away from me?” she murmurs, her voice a soft taunt as she leans in, her lips barely brushing against the shell of your ear. “I told you, if I caught you…” She pauses, letting her words hang between you, heavy with promise. “You’re all mine now.”

A flush of adrenaline and thrill rushes through you as her lips graze along your jaw, leaving a trail of heated kisses down your neck. Her hands slowly drift down, finally releasing your wrists but keeping you firmly pressed against the wall with her body.

“You ran well,” she whispers against your skin. “But it's over.”

Kate’s hands trail down your body, lingering just enough to leave you breathless and wanting more. Her touch is possessive, claiming you in a way that should send shivers of fear through you—but instead, every nerve in your body lights up in pure anticipation. You want to resist, to hate her for this dark side that she’s unleashed, but as her lips capture yours again, any resolve you have dissolves completely.

You lean into her, your body betraying any illusion of resistance, craving the warmth of her touch and the intensity she brings. Her fingers trace your curves, igniting a fire that surges through you, leaving you clinging to her as though she’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

She notices the change in you, a smug smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. “You love this, don’t you?” she whispers, her voice a low murmur that sends a thrill straight through you. “You love me.”

And as much as you want to deny it, you can’t. Kate has you wrapped around her finger, heart racing and head spinning. Every twisted, thrilling second of this only makes you fall harder, and you know there’s no escaping—not from her, and not from the way you feel.

Kate’s fingers disappear momentarily, and when she returns, you catch a glimpse of silver gleaming in her hand. Your breath hitches as you realize she’s holding a knife—small and sharp, its blade glinting under the dim lights.

She brings the blade close to your skin, her eyes never leaving yours as she lets it hover near your collarbone. “Don’t move,” she whispers, her voice both a warning and a promise. Slowly, she presses the flat side of the knife against your skin, letting the cold metal glide along your collarbone and down the curve of your shoulder, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Your heartbeat pounds as her hand moves with expert precision, the blade tracing patterns over your skin, never breaking it but skimming just enough to keep you on edge. She’s in complete control, and there’s a dark satisfaction in her gaze as she watches every shiver that her touch elicits from you.

The knife drifts lower, following the line of your arm, before moving back up to rest just over your racing pulse. “Still with me?” she murmurs, her lips ghosting over your cheek as she leans in close.

You manage a nod, voice caught in your throat, and her grin widens, a hint of pride mingling with something far darker. The blade continues its slow, tortuous path, tracing the line of your neck and collarbone, reminding you with every pass that she has you completely, utterly at her mercy.

The sharp prick of the knife against your skin sends a hiss escaping your lips, a mix of pain and thrill that rushes through you as tiny bubbles of red rise to the surface. Kate’s gaze locks onto the crimson beads, her breath hitching as if she’s savoring every second of your reaction. There’s a hunger in her eyes that goes beyond words, a craving that runs deep, and you can tell she wants more.

Her fingers linger on the knife just a moment longer before her eyes flick back to yours, dark with desire. Slowly, she guides you from the wall toward the bed, her movements calm but unmistakably possessive. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as she settles you onto the edge, her hands steady as she tilts your chin up to keep your gaze fixed on her.

Kate’s fingers glide over the small mark she’s left on your skin, smearing the faint traces of red as if claiming you in a way that’s both gentle and deeply, darkly intimate. She leans in, her lips barely brushing against your ear as she whispers, “You’re mine… every part of you.”

Her words send a shiver down your spine, and as she pulls back, you feel her hand press you down onto the bed, her fingers trailing possessively along your body. There’s a fire in her eyes, one that promises you’re in for a night that will leave its mark on both your skin and your memory. And as much as you should resist, you can’t help but melt beneath her touch, surrendering entirely to her intoxicating presence.

Kate’s hips press firmly against yours, and the friction of the silicone she’s packing against you makes your eyes flutter, a whimper escaping as she grinds deeper, savoring every reaction. Her hands grip your thighs, holding you steady as she positions herself, the mask barely concealing her wicked grin.

Without hesitation, she sinks into you, and you gasp, feeling her stretch you with ease. She fills you perfectly, her movements slow and purposeful, drawing out every delicious inch. A low groan slips from her lips, muffled beneath the mask as she starts to move, each thrust more intense than the last.

“Fuck, babe,” she pants, her voice heavy with satisfaction as she watches you writhe beneath her. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt you this wet.” Her tone is thick with pride, taunting and possessive, each word making your pulse race faster.

With every thrust, she presses deeper, her rhythm unrelenting as she wraps her hand around your thigh, pulling you closer, her breath quickening as she watches the way you fall apart beneath her. Each moan, each gasp, only seems to spur her on, and you know from the look in her eyes that she’s nowhere near finished with you.

Your release crashes over you, and for a fleeting moment, you think she might give you a second to recover. But Kate’s thrusts don’t relent, and her grip on your thigh only tightens. A dark, determined look settles in her eyes as she grins beneath the mask, her voice a low, possessive growl.

“I’m not done with you, babe. We’re going to keep going,” she promises, her words drenched in intent. She leans in closer, pressing you deeper into the bed, her thrusts driving you into a haze of overstimulation that leaves your head spinning, every nerve alive with a mix of pleasure and intensity.

The blade makes sporadic appearances, gliding across your skin with expert care, just enough to keep your senses heightened. Each pass sends sparks through you, leaving faint red lines that she traces with her fingers, her gaze fixed on your every reaction, almost mesmerized by the effect she has on you.

Your body trembles beneath her, every sensation amplified as the line between pain and pleasure blurs into a dizzying euphoria. She picks up her pace, grinding deeper, watching as you unravel all over again beneath her. The overstimulation is relentless, and as the world spins around you, you can only cling to her, completely at her mercy.

The sun’s first rays spill across the horizon, casting a soft, almost surreal glow over the world as you and Kate finally stumble out of the mansion. You make it to her car, exhausted and exhilarated, bodies aching from the night’s intensity. Kate’s Ghostface costume lies discarded in the backseat, and she’s back to her usual self, though her eyes still hold that dangerous, satisfied gleam as she starts the engine, focused on the road.

You take a deep breath and check your phone, seeing a string of worried messages from Wanda. Your heart clenches as you read them:

Did you make it out?

Please, Y/N, answer me…

If I don’t hear from you soon, I’m calling the cops.

A pang of guilt flickers as you glance over at Kate, who doesn’t seem the least bit concerned as she drives, one hand resting casually on the wheel, fingers tapping to some rhythm only she can hear. You quickly type out a message to reassure Wanda.

I’m fine. I got home with Kate, and we took our minds off things.

A few moments later, your phone buzzes with her reply: Thank god… Just text me later, okay? I was scared. You feel a strange blend of guilt and thrill, thinking back on everything that happened, knowing that the night’s secrets are locked safely between you and Kate.

You slip your phone into your lap, stealing a glance at her, your heart racing all over again as she smirks, catching your gaze. “What?” she teases, a satisfied glint in her eye.

“Nothing,” you reply softly, the thrill from last night lingering as you reach over, your fingers brushing hers. Whatever’s next, you know that with Kate, you’re in for one hell of a ride.

[sydsaint]

*frantically drops this on the TL and runs away* The Pepsi man is fucking haunting me.

Summary: The reader has a jaded past with Punk and never thought she'd have to see him again. Until Survivor Series.

"Thanks for the assist, Y/N. Good looking out." Randy pats your arm gently with a friendly smile. 

"When it comes to Rhea? No problem at all, Randy." You nod as the rest of your Wargames team files out of the cage. 

You mingle with the team while laughing at the misfortune of Judgment Day still lingering in the cage. Then it happens. 

Cult of Personality blasts through the arena speakers and you choke on your laugh. Your eyes snap to the top of the ramp and you watch in disbelief as a figure walks through the curtain as the crowd screams at the top of their lungs. 

CM Punk. 

The arena becomes almost deafening as Punk runs around and enjoys his comeback with the crowd all cheering his name as loud as they can.

"You alright, N/N?" Jey sets a hand on your shoulder making you finally look away from the top of the ramp. 

"Fine. I'm fine." You nod. "Come on, let's head backstage. I'm sure that Hunter will want us for the media scrum in a bit." 

The group nods and everyone starts moving up the ramp toward the curtain. You wedge yourself between Sami and Jey and try to look as inconspicuous as possible. The group all pass Punk as he makes his way down the ramp and you do your absolute best to avoid his gaze. Because you know that if you do catch his eye then it's all over for you. 

Luck isn't on your side tonight, because as soon as you happen to glance to the side to smile at a fan holding a sign for you, Punk walks by. Your gaze meets a pair of enticing blue eyes and you curse under your breath. 'fuck' You whisper. 

"You sure that you're okay, Y/N?" Jey checks on you again once everyone is backstage. 

"I'm alright, Jey." You insist with another nod. "I'm just surprised is all. Just like everyone else is." You assure him. 

Jey nods and drops the subject for the moment. Everyone mingles around some more while waiting to see if anyone is needed for the media scrum. Jey and Cody get called to answer a few questions, and Seth wanders off to find Becky. This leaves you with Sami and Randy. 

"Hey, I just remembered something." Randy turns to you while you're talking to Sami. "Didn't you and Punk used to date before he left the company the first time?" He asks you. 

"We weren't dating!" You grind your teeth. 

Randy's eyebrows widen a bit at your outburst and he nods. "Right, sorry." He apologizes. "You knew him though, right? You were just starting out as a trainee if I remember right." 

"Yeah, I just got hired." You nod. "And now I'm a 5-time champion with absolutely no interest in CM Punk." You insist. though it's more to yourself than Randy and Sami. 

"No interest at all huh?" A familiar voice sounds behind you and you can already feel a headache coming on. "Well, I don't know about that, Y/N. Saying  you have zero interest in me is a little harsh, don't you think?" Punk comes sauntering through the curtain, still obviously high off the hype from his return. 

You lock eyes with Punk again but feel more confident in meeting his gaze this time. "Read my lips, hypocrite. Not interested." You answer him firmly. 

"Hypocrite?" Punk laughs and your stomach does a flip. "Sounds to me like you're overcompensating for something, sweetheart." He winks at you. 

"Oh you'd know all about overcompensating, wouldn't you?" You fire right back at him. 

Punk lets out another laugh and you know that you're starting to lose the battle. "Come on, sweetheart. We both know that just ain't true." He flashes a smug smile at you. 

"Alright!" Sami breaks up the dick-measuring contest with an awkward laugh. "Y/N, Randy and I are gonna head back to the locker room." He informs you. "You want to come with?" He offers you an easy way out of this whole situation. 

"Awe, leaving so soon, Y/N?" Punk flashes a fake frown. "But we were just getting to the fun part." 

Your mouth twitches and you turn to Sami. "I'll be there in a minute." You inform him. "I've got one final demon from my past that needs to be taken care of." You turn back to Punk with a scowl. 

"Oh, so I'm a demon now?" Punk teases you. 

"No." Yo, turn back to Punk. "You're a manipulator and a hypocrite." 

Another chuckle falls from Punk's lips as Randy and Sami walk off. "From what I remember, you didn't really mind being manipulated, sweetheart." He reminds you. 

"That was 10 years ago." You remind him right back. "I'm not some starstruck little girl fawning over the great CM Punk anymore. When you compare careers? You should be the one on your knees begging for my attention." You add. 

"You want me on my knees, sweetheart? All you have to do is ask." Punk taunts you. 

Your face heats up a smidge and you bite the inside of your cheek. Punk smiles as you wrack your brain for a comeback to his lewd remark. 

"Still speechless when it comes to me, huh, Y/N." Punk doesn't let up on his teasing. 

"Big talk coming from the main fired from two major companies for acting like an entitled brat." You fire back at him. 

"Oooo, ouch." Punk laughs your insult off. "And what have you been up to while I've been gone, Y/N?" He asks you. 

An opportunity presents itself and you don't hold back. "Main eventing Wrestlemania in front of hundreds of thousands of people." You remind him. "While you were doing what? Sitting on your couch with your dingy ass dog watching me be better than you? Or what? Getting into fights with kids that used to worship you like a hero?" You make a jab at his short-lived AEW career. 

Punk bows his head with a smile, acknowledging the burn. "Touche." He puts his hands up in defeat. "I'm staying at the same hotel as you tonight. Room 413." He steps towards you. "You talk a lot of game sugar, let's see if you can still back it up." He leans in and whispers in your ear before walking off with a self-satisfied smile. 

You remain in place as Punk walks off. "Fuck me." You groan when you think he's out of earshot finally. 

"Oh, I plan to, sweetheart!" Punk answers from across the room followed by a sinister laugh. 

[mariacallous]

The Swifties were the canaries in the coal mine. Last week, as the fallout from the US presidential election ricocheted across the internet, Taylor Swift fans took a stand. In droves, they left X and went to Bluesky, where, as one Swiftie told WIRED, they could build a new community and not “support Elon [Musk] in any way.” They weren’t alone.

A lot has happened in the week since Donald Trump defeated Vice President Kamala Harris for the US presidency. For those who spend a lot of time online, one thing in particular stood out: Trump’s relationship with Musk, the X owner who leveraged his platform to support the president-elect’s campaign. On Tuesday, Trump named Musk one of the heads of the new, not-yet-existent Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). That same day, Bluesky announced it had gained 1 million new users in a week. On Thursday, the company said it had gained another million in 24 hours.

Not all of those new migrants to Bluesky are Swift fans, mind you, but they do represent a certain subset of internet culture: the folks who, unhappy with Musk’s links to Trump and how he was running X, finally gave up and decided to relocate their social media lives. Since its rollout in 2023, Bluesky has been a kind of “loose, slaphappy” place, but in the past two months, as Slate pointed out this week, its become a better platform for sharing news and keeping up with live events, a lifeboat for “left-leaning Twitter refugees.”

Whereas Americans used to swear they’d move to Canada if their candidate didn’t win (as if such a move is easily achieved), now they just set up camp on a new platform. No need to break your lease or sell your house, just post “come follow me on Bluesky” with your new handle. If you don’t like any of your new neighbors, that’s cool. Bluesky offers something most folks call “the nuclear block,” which lets users ensure they don’t hear from someone they don’t want to speak to or interact with.

The internet has always prided itself on being at least somewhat borderless. Firewalls, language barriers, and other hurdles exist, but the web still helps information and stories get from one place to another much more quickly than anyone could travel there. No visa required.

Yet, that pride has always been a bit unearned. There are gatekeepers, trolls, bullies. Musk wanted Twitter to be a town square, but you still needed a device connected to the internet to get there—and had to be ready to dodge insults once you did. Even online, NIMBYs want a say. Who gets to call themselves a “local” on any given platform often gets decided by which mob rules. You can go to Bluesky, the Canada of the internet, but be careful what baggage you bring.

What the reelection of Trump has brought is a redrawing of some of the borders of the internet. New users may want to settle on X; longtime users may be inclined to leave. Similarly, some BookTokkers may be inclined to talk about books elsewhere (we hear that folks are going to The StoryGraph since Goodreads is owned by Amazon) or to find a different -Tok to tick away their time in. Politics are disrupting dating apps. The Onion just bought Alex Jones’ Infowars, promising to turn it into a parody of its former self. When it relaunches in January, satire fans will likely flock. Everyone, it seems, is going somewhere else.

All of this, of course, stands in stark contrast to the fact that immigration, actual immigration, was such a contested issue during the 2024 election. During his campaign, Trump promised mass deportations and a crackdown on illegal border crossings if he was elected. He has been. He has also named Tom Homan, a staunch defender of family separation policies, as his “border czar.” Canada is braced for asylum-seekers, but maybe not Americans fed up with who the other half of the country voted for.

Being able to switch social media platforms is a privilege. Even if you believe Bluesky to be full of “theater kid energy,” at least you get to go, and there are more than 15 million people there with you.

[trashmouth-richie]

master list

Eddie x fem! reader

⚠️ TRIGGER WARNINGS ⚠️

Absolutely no minors, gtfo. Hopefully everyone has read the warning post from earlier this week regarding this chapter. it is extremely dark themed.

Heavy violence

References to past rape/ assault

Blood, gore

Domestic violence

Somnaphilia

Character death etc

A/N: please know your limits. I love you and let’s get into this chapter so we can move on.

The brown popcorn bag spun lazily in the microwave like an oily inflating balloon. The steady hum of the appliance kept you company as the countdown to the sad supper ticked to an end. The cheerful ding springing you from the staring contest you were having with the counter top. 

  The small radio you had purchased was sitting on the counter, the soft belt of Linger by The Cranberries was playing for what seemed like the tenth time today and you couldn’t help but feel the lyrics in your blood. 

  Unaware of anything out of the ordinary. A typical night after working at the bar. Showering and throwing on a pair of pajama shorts, tucked next to the pair of Eddie’s boxer briefs you had found last week. 

  After investigating why the washer banged all to hell when even the smallest of loads were in it, wedged tight under the plastic agitator were his underwear. 

  And you’d be a fool to say you hadn’t broken down and sobbed in the basement on the discovery. 

  You dried them and folded them neatly next to your delicates. The same drawer that held the worn and tarnished pig ring he gave you as a Christmas gift, and the envelope full of cash. 

  The water works started again. 

  Hot tears flooding your eyes, the simple act made you feel like he was home with you. But the nightmare always continued.

  You missed him so much. 

  “But you always really knew

I just want to be with you

  If you were a tiny bit more awake you might have caught that the door to the garage was locked even though you had no memory of locking it yourself. 

  ..And I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

  Rustling the steaming bag from the microwave with burnt finger tips, you toss it on the counter hastily. Sucking your fingers into your mouth to dull the stinging redness away.

  Do you have to let it linger?

  And maybe it was then that if you weren’t busy nursing the premature burns, you would have noticed the odd set of keys on the counter next to the mail, pushed to the side by the buttery bag of popcorn. 

  Do you have to, do you have to, do you have to let it linger?

  Bending at the waist to the lower cabinet you reach around for the smooth plastic of the yellow popcorn bowl. Upon standing you feel dizzy. You hear it before you feel it, the loud thwap of something heavy against the back of your head. The pain is searing and turns your vision to black. You’re passed out before your head even hits the floor. 

  (1987)

  The November air whipped into reddened skin, striking out any heat you had left in the confinements of the peach sweater you borrowed from Nancy on your frozen walk to Forest Hills Trailer Park. 

  It happened again. 

  And this time it wasn’t an accident, no matter how much he begged, no matter how many times he said he was sorry. 

  He hit you with a closed fist. 

  You weren’t flirting with Dustin. He was your friend. Way before Chad had taken any interest in you. Most of your friends were guys, besides El and Max, and even though Nancy Wheeler was older and more popular— you considered her a friend too. 

  When she left for college this past fall, she insisted on making her room more stylish to your liking. And she never once minded the twin beds you both slept in, a night stand between them. 

  But when Mike sat next to you at lunch and was going over notes from Kensington’s class, Chad’s mind twisted it into Mike hitting on you. Which led to Chad hitting on you, but instead of compliments and doting behavior— he drug you out to his car, a bony grip on the back of your neck.

  He screamed at you with every vein protruding from his tan skin. Voice hoarse and throat stretched tight. 

  Apparently you were fucking people behind his back. Even though you were a virgin. The town whore! He had yelled loud for even some of the teachers to hear, all turning a blind eye to the obvious domestic abuse happening on school grounds. 

  Explaining yourself only made it worse. 

  He slapped your face hard when you opened your mouth to interrupt him. And when you stood your ground and raised your chin to him, calm and steadily telling him to go fuck himself, he swung a fist into your eye. 

  And that’s when you left. 

  His apologies trailing behind you and caught in the gut of wind to travel far away from your ears. He wouldn’t follow you, he had appearances at school to keep up. 

  Much easier to tell Aaron and Sean that you got your period and were being crazy then explain why he had left school.

  The gravel crunched beneath your feet, frozen from the last winter storm and holding pockets of ice amongst the rocks. 

  Pale blue and still holding the old television lawn ornament, you sighed audible when Eddie’s van was parked outside of the aluminum sided trailer. 

  You hadn’t seen him since graduation last May. The night Chrissy’s extra curricular activities with Rick finally came out when they were caught fucking in the shower upstairs, at Steve’s house. Both sporting pricked arms with needle marks. 

  A broken hearted Eddie drank all night long and puked into the hot tub.

  Your quickened steps up to the concrete stairs and a shaky broken knock on the screen door have you stepping back waiting for the door to open, awaiting Eddie’s stupid grin waiting on the other side. 

-

  Living with Eddie you had no reason to be afraid. Many nights the front door was left unlocked. And maybe it was out of habit. Maybe you had left it unlatched tonight too. 

  It would explain how he was there now. 

  Hovering over you, his blond hair coined perfectly slicked to the side, slightly feathered back with thick styling gel. A Ralph Lauren polo with the logo on the left chest. His cologne reeked of some designer brand, making your stomach queasy.

  The only difference between those years ago and now was that he had a small dusting of a flesh colored mustache wiggled on his sweaty lip. Same maniacal inky blacks to his blown pupils, laced with the piercing blue. 

  The realization ices your veins and stings your eyes with angry tears. 

  Chad Cunningham was in your home, his body over yours as you're pinned beneath him, the smell of iron invading your nose. Looking around with wild eyes you see the crimson streaks from the linoleum in the kitchen to the carpet where you are laying. Your head thumping with the rhythm of bloody drops against the fibers of the worm carpet.

  “Been a long time hasn’t it, honey bun?” 

  An eternity wouldn’t have been enough. 

  Pressing his body into yours, you can feel the stiffness of his starched shirt as you try to will your arms to fight him away. He chuckles at your feeble attempts to push him off.

  His weight presses deeper into you as he lowers his mouth to your lips, squeezing your face he almost sings,  “Told you I’d see you soon.” 

  His lips are harshly planted into yours, feeling like jagged rocks against your soft waters.

  “Fuck,” he groans, hard against your thigh. “just like I remember. I’ve missed you.” 

  The clink of his belt unthreading from the loops of his khakis finally renders your senses. But you wait with calculated timing. 

  Leaning back, he stares into your face with a quizzical expression burrowed deep on his brow. “What’s the frown for? Don’t you miss me? Aren’t you happy to see me?” 

  Evident that his delusions still ran deep, it’s showtime. You would survive this. One good hit, that's all it would take. 

  Pushing yourself up gently, your head is swimming with nausea and the steady dripping tick of blood down the back of your neck. 

  Placing a shaky hand to his cheek he moves into your hand, the same way Eddie had that night, your stomach somersaults at the memory. 

  When his eyes shut, you turn your fingers into a clawed position, and scrape the flesh from the corner of his eye down to his lip. 

  It happens quickly and with your blurred vision and pounding head it feels like it’s all in slow motion. He wasn’t expecting it. 

  A kick to his ribs hurt your bare feet probably more than it injured him but you needed the extra time to escape into your room. 

  The phone feels cool against your cheek, and weighs heavy on your shoulder when you realize it’s dead. The plan of you running in here, dialing 9-1-1 and holding him off until they came was foiled. 

  “BITCH! You can’t hide from me!” 

  Knowing you only have seconds before he finds you, you 

frantically look around for something to defend yourself with. Searching eyes land on the window. 

  Just need to get out and run to Mr. Griffin’s house. 

  Fingers on the frame you yank upwards, palms digging into the wired screen, pushing it out.

  Throwing your leg out into the darkness of the night, you’re one step closer to being safe. One step closer to ending this night of horrors before it could begin. 

  The noise of splintering wood and the crack of a door being snapped from its hinges join your erratic breath and piercing screams— a monstrous reel of symphonic sound. 

  Chad twists a thick fist into your scalp, freeing the hair from its follicles in a sickening pop as you scratch your nails into the window sill, trying to hold on.

  He’s stronger than you, no different than years before. And when your body crumbles onto the floor with a squelching thud, splinters of lacquered wood and nails that once held the door in place, pierce into your exposed skin. 

  But that is minor league compared to the shattering pain delivered from his fist into your face as he straddles you.

  “Think you can hide away with that freak from me?!” He rocks his closed hand into your other cheek, this time clipping your eye with a gold wedding band.  

  Your cries fall on deaf ears. Tears stinging and trying to drip from your swelling eyelids. 

  “Honey bun,” he purrs into your ear, “don’t tell me you’re that fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t find you.”

  His fingers move to brush your hair from your face, and he holds your head in place when you try to bite at his fingers. 

  His wicked smile could make the devil’s scaly skin crawl. 

  “Such a dumb whore, forgetting I have eyes and ears all over this town.” Placing his grabby fingers on his breasts, he continues, “Aaron and Sean may not be the brightest candles on the cake but they are loyal.” 

  Aaron…Sean. 

  You rack your brain for any recollection of those names.  and it finally clicks. Chad’s friends in high school, following him around like he was the King. A snap of his fingers and they’d move like henchmen. Fighting anyone who got in his way, putting themselves at risk just to say they had a friend from a rich family. 

  The realization swims in your eyes and scares your tears dry. 

  “No.”

  “Pieced it together huh?” Chad laughs wildly. “They work..” he grunts, hips rutting against you, pinching your perked nipples in his tight grasp, his fingernails digging through your shirt around the delicate skin, making you squeal, “..with the freak!” 

  His deranged cackle doubles when you yell out in pain. 

  “Small town bosses don’t lock their offices, and it was too easy for Aaron to find your address, even easier to find out that Eddie had left your ass here, unguarded, alone, waiting for someone to save you, and honey bun here I am!” 

  His sick twisted smile oozes fear further into your gut, brooding and feeding on any small amount of joy you had left. 

  “You need a fucking psychiatrist.”

  “Such harsh words for that sweet mouth, but don’t worry!” he reassures, eyes wide with delight and a psychotic expression on his face as he brings his voice low and secret-like, “I won’t kill you yet, the boys are looking for Munson and when they find him…” he lowers himself to kiss your lips, sliding his tongue against the split flesh. 

  “Fuck!” He bellows, licking his lips savoring your taste on his tongue, “when they find him they’re gonna bring him here, and it’ll be arranged to look like the freak killed you and then himself.. a lover’s quarrel gone bad.” 

  He rubs his face and grunts again at the warbled wails you let out, squeezing your breasts and bucking into your clothed crotch. “Goddamn,” he groans, his eyes rolling into his head at the sound of your cries, getting off on your distorted face, “I just couldn’t help myself, had to come here and do this first. One last goodbye.”

  You’d rather be dead at this point. You wish he’d kill you now and get it over with. But the thought of Eddie seeing your lifeless body haunted you. And you stop crying when his hands close around the hollow of your throat. 

  “Gonna be mine, one last time honeybun?”

  “Fuck you,” you croak beneath his hands on your throat.

  You’re weak and running out of time. Rolling your tongue against your teeth and cheeks, harboring a mixture of saliva and blood you wait until Chad is leaning over you, and when he’s close enough you spit the concoction into his face.

  Chad bellers out, letting go of your throat and standing abruptly to wipe his face. The split second he’s distracted you try to crawl away, but he kicks you down. 

  Delivering several soccer styled strikes into your stomach, his voice spewing insults with every jab of his white Nikes into your body.

  A raging shock of fury paints his face.

  “What did I tell you hmm? If I can’t have you— no one can!” You scream loud when his shoe propels into your crotch, shocking your pelvis with burning heat. 

  All noise is void when he rolls you over and crashes down on your beaten body, clobbering your tear and blood streaked face, blow after blow.  Your eyes are swelling shut and you’re surprised when you see Eddie’s face, before your eyes shut. 

  It feels like home. 

  -1987-

  The warm smile you missed so much was not there to greet you. A cold calloused “what?” finds you instead. 

  “Eddie?” you ask with a scratchy throat, clearing it once, twice, to answer him against the wind. 

  Grumbling and stomping in the trailer is heard. Along with two separate giggles. 

  The door is yanked hard inward revealing a version of Eddie Munson you’d never seen before. His skin was sunken in on his cheeks, dark circles rimmed his eyes. His once soft features were sharp and lackluster, brooding with ashy shadows and skin that looked like it hadn’t seen sunlight in months. 

  He looked gaunt and hallowed out, his ribs poking against the cindery color of his skin. The warm whiskey eyes that once danced when he laughed were now gaping blacked marbled, polar and dull. 

  He speaks but you are too busy holding your breath from the stench of rotting clothes and unwashed bodies. 

  Stumbling over an apology for not hearing him, you are startled when he barks back,  “I said, what the fuck are you doing here, Tooty?” 

  You look to the floor and notice he’s wearing a heavily stained sock with a hole in the toe, the other foot bare, next to a pair of work boots are three pairs of women’s shoes:, heels, keds, and pink reeboks. Your toes wiggle in your worn converse. 

  “I’m.. I uh..” 

  Eddie rolls his eyes, “oh for fucks sake spit it out! You selling raffle tickets or something for school? Pep team need new Pom-poms? Or maybe the chess club is looking for a new board?” 

  Shock stealing your speech you stand on frigid feet digging your fingers into the yarn on the Nancy’s sweater. Tears bite your lashes and fall on cold cheeks. 

  Eddie! Where’s your lighter? A sultry voice coos, padding feet getting closer to the threshold. 

  “Listen kid, I’m fucking busy, I don’t have time to haul you around because twiddle dick and dum forgot you at the gas station again.” 

  He has barely looked at you since you got there. The guy who held more merit to you than your own brother was gone. 

  When you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your sweater  he lets out an exaggerated groan. 

  He thrusts dirty fingers into his sweatpants pockets. Pulling out a perfectly rolled twenty dollar bill, he flattens it smooth. He smears his finger along the length of the bill, collecting remnants of a fine white powder, which is quickly shoved into his greedy mouth and rubbed on his gums like he’s brushing his teeth. 

  “Here,” he grunts, shoving the drugged money into your pocket, avoiding your eyes at all cost, “now get lost.” 

  The blinds on the door are still swinging as you stand there dumbstruck and watery eyed. Low voices are murmured through the thin walls as a lighter flicks and sizzles.

  Who was that baby? 

  Nobody. 

  And that’s exactly who you were to everyone you knew, nobody. 

  And ironically enough— that’s exactly who you could rely on. 

  One thing was for certain: Eddie Munson was a stranger to you. 

  The tears fell harder on the shameful walk back to Chad. But you weren’t sure if you were crying harder because of the sudden loss you felt from an old friend or because of the pain in your eye.  

-

  Heart hammering in his chest, Eddie jiggles the door handle, it’s locked and he panics and realizes he still has his key. Fumbling with the key ring, Eddie finds the short brass one and unlocks the door. 

  The sight of the mostly empty house is jarring, causing his stomach to drop , a small recliner rests in the living room where his couch once sat. Wine is spilled from the kitchen to the living room, smeared like it was swept poorly with a mop. 

  You never drank wine.

  Maybe you started drinking heavily after he left. He did. It only made sense. 

But a second glance at the claret colored stain embedded into the carpet and his worst fear was realized. 

  Blood.

  The sound of something wet and thwacking settles into his bones and shakes his spine. Someone was hurting you.

  Heavy docs lead him to the corner of the house, your room and his old room. Where his door was intact, yours was shattered. Like Jack Torrance took his ax to it in The Shining. Stepping on cracked wood, Eddie sees the most horrific thing he’s ever been a witness too. 

  And suddenly he’s six years old again, helpless. Watching a woman he loved lose a battle she didn’t even know she was in. But instead of his mother’s lifeless body crumbled by his father’s feet, instead of her dark curly hair matted with pooling blood and a gaping bullet hole— It’s you underneath a guy he doesn’t recognize.

  Your face is battered and covered in blood, the once plush lips he held so warmly between his own were split and slack. Your eyes were swollen, lacking any shine to them they normally held. 

  His eyes connect with yours for a brief second, and when they close he doesn’t know if they will open again. 

  Fury radiates through his entire body, masking the pain of heartache at the sight of you slipping from him. 

  Before he can acknowledge the thought of you being gone, he lunges at the catalog Dad dressed asshole. Knocking him off your body and landing on top of him, colliding into your dresser. The tangle of body parts wrestling for purchase tumble into the hall. Ringed fists land home on every surface of this guy's face, and when he stops to take a breath— he realizes the face he is hitting is Chad Cunningham’s.

  How did he find you? Had he been stalking you both since that day at the grocery store?

  Didn’t matter all that he cared about was throwing this mother fucker the biggest ass kicking of his life, and he wouldn’t stop until either Chad or himself was dead.

  “I’ve waited years for this day,” Chad spit, after getting a punch in when Eddie was in his own head, knocking Eddie’s jaw to bite down on his tongue, filling his mouth with blood immediately. “Trailer trash Munson finally came to play.”

  Taken by surprise, Chad shoves Eddie from him and stands up, looking through the doorway at your limp body. 

  Eddie stands slow, using the bathroom doorknob to help, he reaches for the knife kept in his back pocket. 

  Chad spins to face Eddie, his hair sweaty and face ballooning out from Eddie’s rings. “You should have left my girl alone Munson, would have saved your uncle the heartache.”

  Eddie flicks the blade open on the knife, grip tight around it, he breathes through his nose his throat tight and stretching around his words, his leather jacket creaking when he moves his neck around in a stretch, confident in his delivery, “she’s not yours.” 

  The hysterical laugh that leaves Chad’s lungs could resemble bats screeching in the night, he’d make a great clown in a haunted house. 

  “Dead or alive whether I’m married or not— she’ll always be mine.”

  Like alley cats, they stare each other down, waiting for the opportunity to pounce.

  Chad licks his lips and looks your way again, “listen, I get it, she’s hot. And that tight little pussy..” he licks his lips and grabs himself over his denim jeans, stained with your blood.

  Eddie’s blood is boiling, he’s seconds away from snapping but trying to hold it together long enough to make a perfect attack.

  Chad leans forward, gesturing a mockery secret with his hand held around his mouth, “It’s even better when she’s fighting you,” he inhales deep, like he’s wishing he was in a past memory, “screaming really tightens her right up.”

  Knife out, Eddie charges forward. And is struck dumb when the knife is kicked from his hand. Another kick this time to the chest that he wasn’t expecting sends him stumbling into the living room, air gone from his lungs. Chad follows and swings into his diaphragm making Eddie choke out on nothing, gasping for air. 

  “Oh come on, Munson,” Chad taunted, leaning down to kiss Eddie’s cheek, “Thought you would have some trailer park moves to throw at me.”

  Raising a heavy boot, Eddie stomps on Chad’s toes, and mule kicks his kneecaps. A ringed fist meets his cheek, adding another forming bruise to his winter tan skin. Shoving him backwards into the counter in the kitchen, the cabinet doors bust on the impact. 

  The punches Eddie is landing have his knuckles bloody and swelling but he doesn’t care. Each punch is a testament for the years you held yourself together, acted like nothing bad was going on, when in reality you were experiencing hell on Earth and he never knew. 

  This was his payback. His way of righting a wrong. A wrong that should have never even began.

  He doesn’t know what he was hit with just that he was stumbling backwards again. Temple throbbing and without reaching up he knows he’s bleeding. His back hitting the corner of the fridge he slides down onto the linoleum.

  His head is heavy and his vision blinded with hazy clouds of black and white. He hears Chad but doesn’t see him, just feels his head being slammed in the fridge and a grip in his hair. 

  “Could have saved your uncle funeral costs you stupid bastard… clearly you don’t care about him, or Tooty for that matter, leaving her all alone like that,” Chad sucks through his teeth, splitting blood onto Eddie’s shirt, “thought the raccoons usually stuck together.”

  He chuckles low and slams Eddie’s head one more time with such force it leaves a dent in the fridge. “Now if you’ll excuse me,” he says, straightening his shirt, walking towards your room , “my girl is waiting.”

  “Don’t touch her!” Eddie roars, pushing himself up to stand with all his might. Pounding head and nausea thick in his mouth. Raising his head he looks at Chad with blurry sight, trying to see clearly. His voice is low, catching his breath and taking all of his strength to utter out the words. Balancing around the mark of deranged, “I’ll fucking kill you.”  

  Chad swivels on his heels, head cocked at Eddie, he grabs under his chin holding it firmly in place. His breath fanning over Eddie’s cheeks and he smiles maniacally, blood painting his teeth. 

  “Don’t flatter yourself.” A heavy fist to the gut has Eddie doubled over. Gripping the counter with white knuckles and wet blood smeared fingertips. 

  He had failed again. He wasn’t able to stop his own father from killing his mother. And now Chad was on his way to desecrate your lifeless body. He’s a fuck up and a failure. 

  Always. 

  A low guttural choking sound breeches Eddie’s ears. And he turns to see you covered in your own blood, barely standing and wielding a bat with nails protruding from every which way. 

  The nails are claret colored and dripping thick drops onto the carpet, fibers of Chad’s jeans hang in shreds from the sharp edges. A scant look towards Eddie and your eyes swim with relief and mourning. 

  He’s here. Blood is smeared down his lips and his hands look tight and swollen. 

  But he’s alive. And so are you.

  Eddie’s vision is doubled and he blinks rapidly unaware if he is seeing you or not. He swallows hard and almost chokes on tears.

  But that is short lived.

  And it happens fast. 

  The yelling rage from Chad’s lungs over power your screams. His hands are tight around your throat before you can blink, your spine snapping into the nearest wall, feet dangling off the ground. 

  Haziness bleeds into your eyes and your breath is expelled from screaming— now gone when your windpipe is crushing like a pixie stick under Chad’s grip. 

  Desperate to fight back you jam your thumbs into his eyes. Victor Creel style like the Urban Legends passed down that you were told as kids. 

  If you were going to die, at least he would be blind, a forever reminder of this day etched, literally, into his face. 

  You prayed Eddie would know how much you loved him.  

  Should have’s taking over the last puffs of oxygen in your brain, popping like bubbles. 

  Should have told him sooner. 

  Should have said it every day. 

  Should have kissed him more. 

  Should have let him love you. 

  The guilt wraps around your mind as the cold hands of death welcome you. But you’re not afraid. Knowing Chad always kept good on his word, Eddie would join you in the afterlife.

  Hand in hand. 

  Strolling along the pinked cotton candy clouds and the pearly gates. 

  You are his and he is yours. 

  Lovers together finally at last. 

  The last breath on your lips is a silent devotion to him. 

  I love you, Eddie.

-

a/n: my asks are always open ♥️