#how can I be expected to sit in all these meetings???

[clawsdevour]

shut up!

wc: 0.2k content warning: established relationship, fluff, not proofread

a/n: js finished with my essay !!! expect sum stories here n there whenever i finish my hw :3

҂ᤳ . *

"god, i look terrible today. my hair's all greasy too," you groaned under your breath as your fingers tangled with your locks of hair in an attempt to fix it, staring straight into the mirror that reflected back your pores that erupted with sebum.

clearly upset, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment as you tried to make yourself feel okay, you can't help but feel like an emotional wreck.

your boyfriend senses your low energy from where he sat, ushijima's eyes peering up from his work emails he was so focused on responding to. now he's watching you, every trembling moment made his stomach ache whenever he heard you mumble under your breath about how ugly you felt knowing that you're the prettiest thing his eyes ever laid upon.

"you're beautiful," ushishima's husky low voice blurted out, catching your attention as you whipped your hair back to look at his eyes staring dead set at you.

"shut up.." you murmured, returning your head back to look in the mirror as you brushed through your roots to your ends.

"no. you're beautiful" determination in his voice that roared from his seat.

you can feel ushijima's gaze on your back that always made you flutter as if he were towering over you despite him still sitting in the same spot.

"shut up..!!" you responded sheepishly, a bit embarrassed of showing your face which has turned a slightly pink hue.

"won't till you admit it" averting your eyes to meet with his, the corners of his lips curling up lovingly. that bastard.

"admit what?"

"that you're beautiful."

masterlist here

[naomi-nana]

✎ᝰ. in the name of you .

in a world where everyone forgot their own religion, it's not wrong for luka to look at your ethereal self and immediately mistake you for a divine being, no?

featuring : luka

cw : female reader, implied stalking(for just a little), luka is obsessed with reader, luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in here for the sake of the story lol🙇‍♀️

a/n : i made a till one, and now i'll make a luka one! i was trying to make it seems as if luka is obsessed with reader, but i was having a hard time showing it, and ended up making it seems like luka had become a better person after meeting reader lmfaoo😭🙏

from the moment humans were taken away forcefully by those disgusting aliens—they all had forgotten about their creators. the one who gave them life, the one who gave them the will to continue living. each day felt like a stab to the heart, it feels as if someone had taken your lungs out of your body, before putting it back inside again.

it feels empty, like a void.

while all the kids run around anakt garden happily, although not genuinely, all luka could do was lean on one of the trees, while holding his knees close to his chest. what can he do? what does people expect him to do? he is a weak child, a child born with diseases, a child unable to live without support from others, including the tree he is currently leaning on. without anything to lean on, to hold on to, what was he supposed to do, weak and dependent as he was?

nothing. he could only weep himself to sleep every day, and it changes nothing. he has heard from the other kids that there is a powerful divine being that could help you in times of distress, how it's called god, how you're supposed to believe in it for it to help you, and he did. luka believed in god for a day, but nothing had changed. his everyday life had remained the same.

like waking up early, even though he doesn't know what time it is because of all the fake painted skies the aliens put in the garden, go eat breakfast with the other kids, with no one else sitting besides—"hey, is this seat occupied?" in the midst of the suffocating silence, a cheerful, almost unreal voice had reached his ears. he had first thought that it was just his imagination, his desperate feelings of wanting to be accompanied by someone. but it wasn't, as the voice echoed in his ears once again.

"uh, hello...? did i catch you on a bad day? i'm so sorry, i'll find another seat then." after what felt like a minute, he finally looked up at the person talking to him, only to notice that they're gone. he clenched his fist in regret. he should've looked up earlier, he should've answered whoever that was, but he didn't. such a shame, he thought to himself.

after half an hour, luka finished his breakfast and was getting ready to leave, before being stopped by someone whose voice was so familiar to him, it almost feels as if he is dreaming. "hey, um... i'm really, really sorry for bothering you earlier. as an apology, i got some bread for you!" that cheerful voice had struck something inside him, his eyes grew wide slightly, and his hand trembles at the sight of you. if he were to believe in the divine, he would immediately get down on his knees and pray for you, an angel.

your soft gaze, your skin that looks almost as delicate and fragile as a glass, and your small fingers offering him the bread you got for him. it took him almost a minute to react, and all that came out of his mouth is just a small gasp, so small that even you can't hear it. "don't tell anyone about this though, but i stole it from someone's unfinished breakfast! so take it, please?" you shoved the bread to his face, which made him raise his eyebrows. but he took it anyway.

he examines the bread carefully, to which you took great offense. "i won't poison you, so there's no need to look at it so intensely!" you pout at him. if you squint your eyes really hard, you can notice the faintest hint of smile on his face, and probably the first time he has ever smile so genuinely.

his everyday routine had consisted of the same, basic thing. but, now that you talked to him, it changed his life forever. it changed his views of the world, of everyone. some kids may have believed in the divine from the moment they were born, but luka just believed in the divine the moment she graced himself with her kindness.

from then on, whenever luka woke up and entered the garden, the first thing—or person he looks for, is you. whenever he went to the cafeteria, the first person he approached is you, and when luka went to his first performance on stage, the first person he looks for in the audience is you, holding a cream-colored lightstick.

whenever luka goes anywhere, the first person he looks for, thought of, and wishes to see first... is you.

his god, his universe.

and if he happens to notice some... imbecile, or other people trying to approach you, he won't hesitate to show them that no one can approach his angel without consequences. no one other than him.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Hii this is a bit of a strange ask

Could you make a small Drabble of any Hayden character that you think suits it best, but of that one Wolf on Wall Street scene “nothing but short short skirts around the house” the reader does it for about a week and whatever character you choose goes crazy? :>

Author's note: dear beautiful nonnie, this isn't a strange ask, it was perfect. Although i couldn't decide to chose one particular character, so I most of them :33

DAVID RICE

STEPHEN GLASS

David would be obsessed from the start, instantly giving in with zero resistance. It starts with him just catching glimpses as you walk around the house, his head tilting with every inch you reveal. But by the end of the week, he’s teleporting to meet you in every room you enter, each jump closer than the last. “You know,” his gaze dipping down to trace your curves, “this week has been torture.” He doesn’t even try to hide how much he wants you now, a mischievous smirk tugging at his lips. With one swift motion, he pins you against the wall, his hands exploring every curve. "Think you can just wander around like that and not expect me to... get ideas?" His fingers slip beneath the fabric, his voice a delicious murmur. "I’ve got a few places in mind I could take you right now.."

Stephen’s flustered from the start. You notice his stammer whenever you walk by him, his eyes flicking up and down as he tries to act casual, but it’s hopeless. By the third day, he can barely keep it together, sneaking glances over the top of his glasses, his fingers nervously tapping on his notebook. “You, um,” he clears his throat, shifting in his seat, “you know, you’ve been, uh… really…distracting.” He stammers, cheeks flushed, his voice dropping. Finally, he gets bold, stepping closer, his fingers grazing your thigh. “This little skirt? It’s not helping me work, you know.” You catch the look in his eyes as his hand starts to travel up, and suddenly, shy Stephen isn’t so shy anymore.

AJ

AJ is smooth and knows exactly what he’s doing, but you’ll feel him unravel when you start wearing those short skirts. He’ll try to play it cool, but the moment you cross his line of sight, his jaw clenching, his nostrils fluttering, and he just can’t keep his hands to himself. “You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, do you?” His voice would be teasing, but his hands would be rough when they grab your plush thighs. You’d give him a little teasing wiggle, just enough for him to feel your body press against his, and the shift of your hips would make him groan low in his throat. “Get up here, now.” He’d lift you up onto his lap, and you’d feel him hard against you instantly. Fingers digging into the flesh of your hips “Don't care about anythin' right now but this damned skirt of yours..who even bought you this, sweetheart?" he rubbed his clothed length against your thin panties "cause it definitely wasn't me, would rail you in it way earlier"

ANAKIN SKYWALKER (AOTC)

AOTC Ani is a mess, completely nervous and flushed at how much he’s enjoying this—he can’t hide it. When you walk into the room, it’s all he can do not to lose it. He’s quiet at first, trying to keep his composure, but your short skirt keeps pulling his focus—especially when you casually bend over, giving him a perfect view of your legs, and a little peek up the hem. You can see him shift, his breath hitching as he fights the flush creeping up his neck. “W-Why are you doing this to me?” His hands shake slightly when he finally touches you, his grip on your hips trembling as he holds you to him. He’s hesitant at first, unsure if he’s allowed to touch you this way, unsure if its even properly to do so, unsure to trust himself to do it. Yet, when you sit down in his lap, that’s it. He can’t hold back anymore. “You— you look so...” He stumbles over his words, a little embarrassed, but the heat in his gaze tells you everything. “You know how hard it is to focus when you're wearing that? Almost made me choke by Master Obi-Wan..”

Anakin Skywalker (ROTS)

VADER

By the time you’re in the ROTS era, Ani’s no longer hesitant—he’s consumed by this dark, obsessive hunger. You in that short skirt? He's about to lose it. As soon as you straddle him, his gaze locks onto your backside, his eyes tracing the curve of your body as you lower yourself onto him. His hands immediately find your waist, squeezing hard as he guides you down. “Look at that ass,” he growls “You’re gonna sit on me and wear that skirt, and tease me like this?” His hands will travel down your back. His lips are bruising, demanding, pulling you closer as his hands tug you down, hard, against him. “Move for me, baby. I want to see that ass bounce on my thick cock”

Vader is possessive, controlling, but so gentle in a way that drives you insane. In the privacy of his chambers, after a week of separation, he doesn’t even wait for you to speak before he’s on you. His voice is commanding, low, but filled with that unwavering affection. "You’ve tested me all week... and now you're here, wearing this." His hands find your waist, dragging you toward him as he presses his lips against your throat. His grip would be firm, unyielding, but his touch is incredibly soft—caressing your skin as if you’re something fragile, something precious. You’d feel his mechanical hand slowly explore your body, just shy of dominance, as if worshipping you. “You look like you’ve been made for me,” he’d whisper into your ear, lips brushing your skin. His gaze would be ravenous, following your every movement as if he can’t get enough of you. "Yet you do something like that.." And when you lay beneath him, he’d take his time (to tease you), slowly pulling the fabric of your skirt up just to see you, to feel every inch of your skin. His hands are everywhere - groping, squeezing, rubbing the flesh of your skin

SAM MONROE

Sam is a bit rougher than the others, especially with the everything he's went through. He’s used to being guarded, but you in that skirt—it's breaking him. After days of watching you in that outfit, teasing him, he’s about to explode. “You think I’m gonna let you walk around the house like that without doing something about it?” His voice is low, rough, almost dangerous as he slams the door shut behind him. His hands are immediately on you—gripping your hips, slamming you against the nearest wall as he kisses you roughly, taking control. “You’re gonna be sorry you wore that skirt,”

JAMES KELLY

James is such a soft dom. The minute you slip into that skirt, he’s hypnotized. He won’t push you too fast, but you can tell he’s fighting the urge to devour you. His hands are light at first, as he lets you control the pace. He’d pull you close, and the soft, gentle way he’d hold you would make your heart race. "You have no idea what you this skirt does to me, do you?" He’d murmur, lips brushing over your neck as his hands slowly explore your body. He’s patient, deliberate, yet so desperate to break you. "Got all night to show you how much I appreciate the view"

LEO

Leo’s flirtatious, cocky, and so confident, but when you wear that skirt, you bring out the feral side of him. He’ll tease at first, pulling you close, hands on your waist as he whispers in your ear. “You wear that skirt to get my attention?” His voice is teasing, but the way he grips your hips shows his true intent. As you sit on his lap, he’s practically grinding into you, unable to hide how much he’s enjoying it. His lips are on yours, desperate and urgent, his hands moving underneath your skirt, claiming you in every way possible, not letting you take off the skirt just yet.

CLAYTON BERESFORD

Clayton is a quiet storm—calm on the surface but with a dark, possessive hunger just below. When you wear that short skirt, he’s trying to keep his cool, but his focus is slipping. His gaze sharpens as he watches you move, and it’s clear he’s imagining everything he wants to do to you. “You think you can tease me like this and expect me not to do something about it?” His voice is low, controlled, but it holds a sharp edge. His hands reach for your waist, pulling you closer, his breath quickening as he feels you against him. You can feel his pulse thrum under his skin, the tension building. “I’ve been patient,” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear, “but you’re making it very hard to stay in control.” He slowly lifts your skirt, his fingers trailing up your thighs, dangerously close to the heat between your legs. He leans in, his lips barely touching yours. “I’m going to make sure you never wear this again without me getting a taste.” His hands would grip your hips, and he’d pull you closer, urging you to feel him, to let him take what he’s been craving.

LORENZO

KURT

Lorenzo is a bit of a playboy, cocky and charming, but when you wear that skirt, he can’t help but want you in a way he’s not used to. At first, he’s all teasing smirks, playfully checking you out as you walk by, and he’d be very vocal about it. “Damn, that skirt is dangerous, baby.” His gaze is fiery, but his hands would be slow, deliberate, and possessive as they explore your body. “Is this how you get a man’s attention?” He’d tug you toward him, lips trailing down your neck, his hands massaging your back before they slip lower. He’d bring you close enough that you can feel the hardness of him pressing against you. "I’ve been dying to take you, but if you keep wearing things like this, I’ll lose all control." You’d feel the way he grinds against you, his body on fire as he pulls you deeper into him.

Kurt is brooding, intense, and feels the weight of the world on his shoulders—but you? You make him forget everything, especially when you wear that skirt. He’s been trying to keep his distance, trying to keep things slow, but he can’t. Not with you looking like that. When you slip into the room, that skirt barely hanging on, he snaps. “You think this is funny?” he growls, eyes drinking every inch of your exposed skin. His hands move without hesitation, gripping your hips and yanking you against him. His lips crash onto yours—bruising, desperate—as if he's been starved for you. His fingers move up your skirt, rough and unrelenting, slipping under the fabric as he pulls you closer. "I tried to wait... but damn it, you’re making this impossible," he mutters between kisses. His lips trail down your neck, teeth grazing your skin as he explores your body with intent. He’s not gentle—he’s a man at the edge of his control. “You want this, don’t you? Want me to take you right here, right now baby?” His voice is deep, rasping “cause this is what you wanted, right? For me to lose control?”

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddict @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo

[huopilled]

⤷ COUPLE UP — k.mj

masterlist | next

ೃ࿔࿐ CHAPTER I — GAME START

the cameras were focused on her, the studio lights making her sweat a little. she hoped they weren't able to see the beads of sweat through the cameras. yn always got a little nervous when she was in front of a camera, it was ironic that her whole career was built on cameras and other people.

"okay yn you ready?"

she cleared her throat as silently as she could, "yes."

"great. three... two... start!"

yn had to do something for her intro before talking. she decided on a simple wave, as her fans talked about how cute she looks while waving. she decided to play it safe.

"state your age and name please."

"lee yn. nineteen."

"nice to meet you yn. first we will explain the details and the rules of the game to you. is there anything you'd like to ask?"

she shook her head.

"great. so this game..."

they had explained everything thoroughly before she even signed the contract to agree to play the game so she knew what they were talking about. deciding to tune the mc out, yn nodded here and there letting the man know that she was listening. i mean she wasn't but... whatever.

"so yn, what do you think about the game overall?"

she'd tried to come up with something cheeky to say but she couldn't find anything. but she hoped it wouldn't matter how much fanservice she did right now because the game was full of fanservice anyway.

"i think it's great! i've never seen something like this before so i'm exited. i'm also very happy to meet new people!"

well she didn't lie that much this time, she really was excited. she was also nervous but no one had to know about that part. i mean if she even said it no one would care, and her fans would probably try to look into it and come up with crazy theories. god, she really didn't want to deal with that.

when the shooting was over they let her sit around for a little bit before getting her into the car that would take her to the house she would be staying at. she liked car rides, minus the part where she would get carsick. she usually preferred sleeping through the rides but she had to talk to a camera this time. it was okay i guess, she just felt weird talking to a camera all by herself.

"hey guys," yn smiled, a little shy, "did you miss my pretty face? i'm kidding, or am i?"

she continued to talk for five minutes before stopping the video and closing her eyes, hoping to get some sleep before a tiring day.

after a while, yn opened her eyes. coincidentally they had just parked the car and opened her door for her to get out. after stepping out of the car she looked at the building in front of her in awe. she hadn't expected it to be this big but it made sense, since there would be seven other people staying in there.

after going inside and looking at the rooms yn was told to sit down at the table that they temporarily put inside of the living room. after she sat down, they quickly started recording.

"okay so, you're going to choose someone after reading these papers and that'll be your partner from now on, so choose wisely."

"oh this is interesting..."

she started to read slowly, sometimes raising an eyebrow or two, sometimes smiling. she'd read all four papers when she picked the third one.

"this," she showed her paper to the camera "is my partner."

"okay," said the main mc "can you tell us what made you choose that person?"

"um... the fact that she can speak three languages is pretty cool. and it says here that she likes eating ice cream in winter and wearing mostly black clothes. we have those in common."

"okay great. thank you yn."

she smiled and nodded, slowly getting up from her seat and going over to one of the rooms. she laid on one side of the bed and slowly drifted to sleep. an hour later a staff member woke her up, telling her that she had to get a few photos taken. yn nodded and followed the staff out of the room.

after the shooting, she realized she had to eat or else she would be too hungry to sleep after. she opted for ramen, a quick and easy dish, also quite tasty for a packaged food.

as she was eating she began to wonder who her partner would be and what games they would play. she hoped it wasn't someone mean, she really didn't have the energy to deal with a mean person especially for a long time.

she sighed and decided to stop thinking. she didn't want to ruin the surprise by trying to guess who she'd be staying with anyway.

taglist— @saysirhc

[ejnaa]

a kiss or nothing

cw ɞ ˚ ‧ ｡ ◞ fluff, ooc, slight suggestive (?), not proofread

pairing : the itoshi brother x playful fem!reader

about me || masterlist

deciding to make the most of a dull day, rin, bored and uninspired, suggested the library. with no other plans in mind, he dragged you along to join him.

with nothing else on your plate, you didn’t bother turning down the ‘offer’. you've heard from your friends that the new library is pleasantly cozy, and they weren't lying at all.

as he reads something associated with soccer, you pretend to study, sneaking glances at his focused look. his intense look, in an odd way, seems quite adorable to you. “you’re always so serious,” you murmur before adding more, “you’d probably crack under pressure in a kiss challenge.”

rin glances up briefly, seeming to get your attention. “what was that?“ he pulls his airpods from his ears awkwardly.

“nothing!”

he exhales in annoyance. “don’t lie. i know you’re saying something unfavorable about me,” he speaks, closing the book with a soft thud.

rolling your eyes, you reach for another romance book, better than the movies, and begin reading, shamelessly retorting, “i said you'd probably crack under pressure in a kiss challenge.”

hearing your bold dare, he swiftly cupped your cheek with one hand and place you on his lap gently, making sure you met his soft gaze. “crack under pressure? you’Il need to do better than that to make me give in.” his eyes stay locked on you, and it's clear he’s not going to make it look easy.

amused by his competitive side, you nod slightly, mentally counting down before meeting his gaze with a playful smile. “on three,” you say quietly. “one, two…” the air feels thick with anticipation, and your heart skips a beat. rin remains still, refusing to back down.

he watches you intently, his focus sharp, and there's no sign that he'd let you win. he’s hell-bent on winning, no matter how trivially pointless the challenge may be.

and you, yes, you, the reader, if you're wondering “will anyone even notice us?” the answer is no. rin picked a quiet, empty hallway near a shelf against the wall. it's a spot that most people overlook, according to the booksellers.

setting the challenge aside for a second, you’re glad rin picked this space. the wooden floor is clean and sleek to the point that you and rin can sit on the floor comfortably, not gonna lie, and it's even comfy thanks to the warm light tones on the store’s ceiling.

though rin, on the other hand, still seems like he's staring into your soul, he finally gets bored and decides to tease you just a bit with a slight playful grin. “hope you're not expecting me to go easy on you.”

with a teasing smile, you lean closer, your voice just above a whisper. “don’t worry, i wouldn’t want you to take it easy. i’ll make sure you give it your best.” your eyes shine with mischief, ready for whatever he throws at you.

rin inches closer, his eyes locked on yours, his voice teasing. “say whatever you want, love. but you might as well admit it now,” he murmurs, his lips nearly brushing yours. “one of us is going to break. might as well be you.”

staring at your lips, rin envisions how you'd lose control and kiss him without hesitation.

“you pretend to be tough, but i can see right through it. i know i can make you break,” you replied with even more flirty gaze, teasing him to the point you can clearly see his ears went red.

“stop… staring at me like that,” he grumbles, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to look tough, but a slight blush on his cheeks this time betrays him. “i’m not going to lose just because of your gaze.”

you look at him with amusement after replying, “what gaze, hm?”

you lean slightly closer again, and rin’s eyes flicker down to your lips before he catches himself. “nice try,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “but i’m not that easy to break.”

you spot his hesitation and decide to press a little further. “what’s wrong, rin? feeling nervous?” you tease, leaning your face a little closer as you tilt your head. his gaze flickers, showing the internal conflict. he awkwardly clears his throat, attempting to regain control. “shut up,” he mutters, though it lacks his usual sharpness. you know he’s fighting the moment.

“you know you wanna kiss me.” his attempt to sound confident falters, and you can hear the nervousness that makes you smile.

you lean even more closer, your lips almost grazing his. rin’s breath hitches, and you can see the tension building in his body. his eyes flicker down to your lips, and he exhales shakily. “tch, damn it,” he mutters, his voice softer than usual. he gives you a small, forced pout. “fine, you win.”

he swears; he’d rather get hit by shitdough again rather than hearing that endearingly stupid laughter came out of your lips.

“you couldn’t keep up with me,” you tease rin, remembering how sure he was before. but you’re not cruel enough to not steal a quick kiss from his pink reddish lips, making his lips pouty and all adorable just for you.

rin’s lips stay pouty, but he can't deny the embarrassment bubbling up beneath that expression.

weekends are finally here: you know what’s up. a cuddle session with the japanese soccer prodigy  for spain awaits!

you and sae lazily cuddle on the couch, you lying on top of his muscular chest while he's stretched out, accompanied with his batman blanket covering you both that you bought for him. the living room’s air conditioner creates the perfect relaxing environment as you both remain glued to the tv.

promising you'd pick the show, sae can’t hide his regret, now stuck watching a cheesy 2000’s romcom full of love triangles.

as the scene unfolds, a guy kisses a girl for five minutes under the rain, and sae finds himself wanting to shut off the tv and sleep with you. just as he considers it, you teasingly interrupt, “bet you can’t avoid kissing me like this male lead here.”

sae quirked an eyebrow, “what makes you think that?” he asks with that unoriginal blunt tone of his, avoiding from the smirk to appearing.

“we could definitely win a court debate if it’s about agreeing that you’re emotionless 99% of the time but still hide your soft side, sae.”

he lets out a soft annoyed huff, clearly irritated by the fact that you're right. “oh yeah? i don’t think so,” he responds smugly, but his competitive nature kicks in and he won’t back away from this dumb kiss challenge.

“you’re not as unaffected as you pretend to be.”

an emotionless statement that calls, spurring his determination further.

“do you really think you’re getting to me? that’s cute.” his tone is playful but dismissive, as though you’re not even a challenge.

you eye him with intense focus, like a predator eyeing its target. yet, the difference here is that he’s your teddy bear, casually returning your gaze.

you let out a soft laugh, feigning offense. “you’re not scared, are you?” you tease, inching a little closer on top of him, your face just inches from his. “i know you’re competitive, sae. don’t tell me you’re giving up.”

his expression remains cool and unreadable. “i’m not interested in your games. you’re the one desperate for a kiss.”

“sure..."

“‘sure’? that’s all you’ve got?”

he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, clearly expecting more from you.

you release a gentle, teasing breath, settling slightly on top of sae. a playful grin forms on your lips, and you say, “alright, i’II concede to that for now.” your gaze meets his as you trail a finger delicately across his chest, creating a charge in the air between you. with a low, playfully provocative voice, you add, “but don’t get too comfortable, you’re not the one calling the shots here,” you add, your voice low and teasing, the playful tension between you two palpable.

sae raises an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by your words, though his gaze follows the movement of your finger. “we’ll see about that,” he says, his voice steady and cool as ever. but there’s something in the way his eyes linger on you that suggests he’s not as unaffected as he lets on. you smirk, knowing full well that the challenge isn’t over, and if anything, it’s just getting more interesting. you lean in a little closer, your lips brushing against his ear, your breath warm against his skin. “i’m just getting started.”

sae remains silent for a while, his gaze unwavering but increasingly distant as if he’s getting tired of the game. you notice the subtle shift in his demeanor—his body relaxing, his eyes losing some of their usual sharpness. it’s as if he’s decided that this challenge isn’t worth his full attention anymore. a small, almost imperceptible sigh escapes him as he leans back slightly, a bored expression creeping onto his face. “you’re not as fun as you think you are,” he mutters, a trace of impatience in his voice.

you’re left a bit surprised, watching as he finally gives in, his competitive edge melting away. without saying much more, sae shifts and pulls you just a little closer. you’re not sure what he’s up to, until you feel a gentle kiss on your cheek. it’s quick, soft, almost tender—an unexpected gesture of surrender, yet somehow, it feels like a victory prize. “i guess you won this round,” he says with a smirk, clearly not bothered by the outcome, but his lips lingering near your skin just a second longer than necessary.

✧˖° a/n ⋮ this is so rush omg, i’m sooo sorry. ‘m studying for my upcoming exam rn but i still feel the need to write smth likes, reblogs and follows are always appreciate!!

⌢   ꒰੭ ejna ’s — 2024 © strictly NO plagiarizing my fic , and copying .

[osakhee]

10th floor, ceo!sungchan x reader

! blowjob, sir kink?

you arrange your shirt nervously, your leg bouncing on the wooden floor. you really need that job. you already went through two interviews, but the company you applied is quite luxurious, and after meeting managers and the head of the human ressources, you were urged to meet the ceo. you heard he was the one actually making decisions for the workers, and he's the last wall between you and that very important job.

even though you know the famous company by name, you never heard of jung sungchan. the young owner inherited everything from his father after his passing, making a huge difference in the harsh business environment due to his age. the company never flourished this well since sungchan's new ceo position. all you could recall from the words of the managers is that he's great at making people fall for him and his traps to make his wealth grow bigger.

your appointment with sungchan is planned in less than 10 minutes. you're early, and now the time seems like it's ticking slowly enough for you to die at least twice on the chair. the corridor that's connected to sungchan's office is quiet and you could only hear your -almost- steady breathing and the faint voice of a man on the other side of the door.

your eyes travel the papers in your hands, the review letters from your past interviews, you read the positive sentences over and over again. you believe in yourself for this job. you almost jump from the chair when you hear the doorknob then the door open. your eyes meet jung sungchan's, and you immediately get what the workers you met meant when they told you the ceo makes all the heads spin.

he's much taller than you expected, an annoyingly pretty face with serious yet soft eyes, a faint smile making him look even sweeter. sungchan steps out of his office and stands in front of you. you immediately get up from the chair.

"i think we have a little interview together, right?"

"yes... sir... i'm here for the job."

"i heard about you, the managers gave me great feedbacks. you're quite a pretty thing."

the words get stuck in your throat, your eyes flutter and sungchan chuckles at your reaction. he opens the door and invites you inside, closing it safely behind you. you stand up awkwardly in the office as sungchan sits down on his luxurious chair and sighs. he shifts himself on the soft material of the chair, and point the seat in front of his desk with his head.

"sit down."

sungchan doesn't need to ask you twice. you sit down and put in front of him the review letters from the different staffs. the silence feels awkward to you, your eyes travel around the room everywhere but in front of you to avoid the ceo's gaze. sungchan is focused on you, massaging his large hands. finally the silence is broken by his voice, and you dare to look at him again. sungchan had opened his tight shirt a little and loosened his tie, and is now looking right at you with a much more serious stare.

"tell me pretty, how much do you need that job?"

you take a moment to think about what to answer. the switch of behavior of the tall man makes you grow more nervous and your face feels hot. you should tell him the truth but won't you sound too desperate?

"answer me when i ask a question."

"i really.... really need that job sir... i have been wanting to work there for so long, i really want it."

"much better when you reply like that. come stand here, pretty."

you take a deep breath and stand up. sungchan's gaze is almost burning you, you can feel it from the tip of your fingers to your chest and face, down your thighs... the ceo sits back in his chair, his legs comfortably parted.

"i think we can help each other out, hm? your pretty face helps me with my problem and i'm sure i can find a nice place for you in the company."

"...excuse me..?"

"don't do that pretty... show some interest in what your boss is asking you..."

sungchan's tone drips like honey into your ears. one of his hand rubs his thigh slowly while he rests his chin on the other one with his gaze so heavy on you. each step you take closer to him make the bulge straining his pants grow larger. sungchan scoffs at your slow moves, his hand rubbing himself over his clothes.

"you know... being such an important person is so much stress... i'm sure you can help out, right? you must do everything i say if you want to work for me, hm."

you slowly drop on your knees in front of him, your hands on his thighs and your face so close to the throbbing bulge. sungchan's smirk grow wider, his hands unbuckling his belt but not opening his pants. he trails his finger down your jaw and hold your chin with the tip of it.

"tell me pretty... want to help the boss out?"

"...yes."

sungchan's smile drops and his voice gets lower.

"yes who?"

"yes sir."

"good."

you nervously let your hands travel sungchan's thighs, earning a low sigh from him. you unbutton his pants, opening it enough to show his strained underwear, the hot bulge twitching under your fingers. you press your palm between sungchan's legs and he groans at your touch, one of his hand finding its place in your hair.

you lick your lips and finally tug on sungchan's underwear slowly, you free his hard cock that stands proudly in front of your face. you caress the veiny length experimentally, and sungchan put his hand around yours to make you hold his dick, making you pump him a little.

he holds the base of his cock with both yours and his hand, he pushes the leaking and red tip on your lips eagerly. you give a lick on the slit as more precum drips on your tongue, and sungchan finally lets go of your hand. he rests himself on his chair, fingers tangled into your hair. when you finally take him into your mouth, a low moan escapes from his throat.

"j-just like that pretty..."

encouraged by his words, you take him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length and tracing the veins. sungchan gets more noisy, breathy groans coming out of his parted lips. his closed eyes open to look at you when you bob your head and take your time on the head of his cock. more praises fall from his tongue and his fingers tug on your hair to bring you closer.

you cough around his dick. you take him away from your mouth and jerk him off, putting all your attention on his throbbing tip that seems ready to explode any minute. you push your thumb on the slit and coat the head of his cock with the sticky fluid. more impatient to find his place back into your hot mouth, sungchan push on your head until his cock hits your face. you open your lips and let him inside, his tip hitting far into your throat as sungchan tug on your hair a little more harshly.

"fuck... keep going..."

the ceo's hips buck into your mouth pushing him deeper inside. you almost gag around him and hold the base of his dick in your hand, rubbing it quickly while you drag your tongue up and down. the way sungchan's groans grow louder and heavier make you speed up, you look up to meet his half opened eyes. his chest heaves to a fast yet steady rhythm, his unbuttoned shirt showing his glistening chest.

you suck on his tip and you feel sungchan's grip on your hair tighten, his two hands holding your head in place while he pushes his hips into you face. you can feel drool dripping from your chin mixed with his cum that erupts into your throat. you move your head slowly to make sure you don't miss a single drop of his bitter fluid before letting go of his now softening dick.

you lick your lips and you feel sungchan's thumb rub on your chin gently, wiping away the spit that coats your skin. sungchan grabs your cheeks and drag you up until you're close of his face. he meets your lips in a sweet kiss, mixed with the taste of his cum. the ceo releases you from his grip and puts back his clothes, buttoning his pants and tucking his shirt back inside.

"so good to me... you did so well pretty."

you sit back on the other side of the desk and sungchan takes the papers that you dropped in front of him. he quickly go through the praises and good reviews from his workers with a smile, looking at you from behind the letters.

"i guess i have a new coworker. you did such a good job. but i expect much more from you starting from today, understood?"

"yes sir."

sungchan work that gets released before eunseok work sorry.... got inspired by the riize court and someone's request, please enjoy :3 eunseok is next, then wonbin!

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 31: Trick or Treat

Last one! Took a little extra time but we finally made it! Hope you enjoy, this is a fun little something something for the Confused Spirit fans in the audience

Additionally, if you have not read Confused Spirit, many of these characters will have no value to you I'm guessing, so, sorry about that. There's also some slight, implied spoilers for the fic as well. That being said, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 6392

Content warning: mentions of blood, injury, and death, reader descretion is advised

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

It's Halloween at the Plex, and you're, well you're not sure how to feel about it. You had to work, meaning your sister and brother are currently out trick or treating with Clara instead of you, which is a bit frustrating. Not to mention, you'd gotten all dressed up and had nowhere to go until you got off in an hour or so. 

You think a mandated Halloween party, on top of having to work on a project, wasn't a great combination, but with the glare Sarah had sent in the meeting last week to you and the other division heads, you didn't have much a choice. Have to set a good example and all that. 

At the very least, you weren't the only one dressed up, so you didn't look as ridiculous sitting hunched over a desk covered in green paint and fake stitches.

Your team all had various costumes on, differing in degrees of effort and style. Pete went classic vampire, Jesse was a mummy, and Tyler was a zombie. Liv was rocking a great Mia Wallace costume, and Savannah had on a witch hat but really went for it with her makeup look. 

Currently, as both a way to kill time and to potentially fix the problem you'd been having, you were all trying your best to fix the issues going on with Fazerblast.

Specifically, something had been messing with both the electric and the mechanical components of the entire attraction. While Lizzy and their team worked to determine what had been causing the random power outages, your goal was attempting to fix the malfunctioning laser guns and rogue staff bots. 

You'd tried to tell both Sarah and Rachel that the place really needed shut down for a few days to actually work on it, but no luck. Seems they wanted it open for Halloween, regardless of how bad an idea you thought that was. 

When your code crashes again you groan, tempted to run a hand across your face before you remember the paint.

"Frankenstein's monster was a good choice for you. You really sell it," Pete quips, sipping on a blood red slushy in one hand, still typing with the other.

You turn to him, eyes narrow, "Remind me why I'm helping you with coding again? When I could be doing literally anything else?"

"Gives him an ego boost," Jesse answers from across the room, "No offense."

You scoff, turning to the coworker across from you, "Figured as much. Savannah, any word from the company that sold us the trigger pins?"

"Not yet," She sighs, puffing out her cheeks, "But I keep checking the reviews and nobody else has had the same issues we've had here. They shouldn't be freaking out like this."

"Figured that much, too. Liv?"

She looks up and over to you, tired, dead stare on her face as she holds up the phone, "Still on hold. I'm guessing corporate left early for the day and couldn't be bothered to let everyone know."

You grimace, and check the time. It's after six now, the party starts at 6:30. That's more than enough for you at this point.

"Right. You know what, we're done here. Pack it up, we can grab food before the party because I know Sarah's going to be stingy about it."

With muted, half-defeated cheer, your team closes out of their computers and shuffles to the door. Besides Tyler, he's in a great mood still, but you expected as much. 

As you're grabbing your jacket and turning out the lights, you swear you see something out of the corner of your eye by your computer. Something purple. When you turn, you find that your computer is on again, login screen staring at you. 

"You coming?" Savannah calls from halfway down the hall.

You turn to yell back, "Yeah, give me a sec, just hold the elevator."

Slowly, you walk back over to your computer, giving it a once over. It looks fine, just turned on. You take hold of the mouse, and hover it over the shut off button again. As you click it, the screen freaks out, glitching before turning black. At the same time, a shock goes up your arm and you yelp, purple flashing across your vision. 

Dazed, you shake your head, and clutching your arm, make your way out of the office and to the elevator. 

You shuffle in, and as the doors close Jesse leans over and mutters to you above the chattering of your team.

"You alright?"

You nod, "Yeah, just, a little tired I guess." Your head feels funny, but otherwise you're fine. You think.

"What'd you do to your hand?" He asks, looking to how you're still holding it.

You let it go, shaking it off and letting it fall to your side, "Stoved it on my way out. I'll live."

He nods and you continue your ascent. But you can't shake the feeling that something's wrong. Your arm twitches and at the same time your vision becomes glazed over in a purple hue. You shake your head, and it's gone again. 

The upper levels are filled with activity. Kids rush from place to place, already tired parents in tow. The words 'trick or treat!' are echoed everywhere as children go from the different tables and booths set up for the holiday. 

If Lisa knew this was going on she'd have a fit that she was out going house to house instead of being here. But asking Clara to watch her in this chaos would have been cruel, and so, the less your sister knew, the better. Besides, Gabe deserved an authentic trick or treating experience as opposed to getting themed-corporate garbage in his candy bucket. For one of his first times at least.

As you pass by the Daycare, seeing many children playing in costumes and such, you see the doors are propped open, and Sun is handing out candy to a long line of trick or treaters.  

"Damn Pete, the Daycare Attendant really outshone you huh?" Savannah elbows him and nods to the animatronic's costume. 

Sun is also a vampire, with a large black cloak, and white shirt. His pants are somehow all black, and the change of shoes is also a surprise. Two lines of red streak down from his smile, which is still as friendly as ever otherwise.

Pete huffs, "It's literally the same costume, besides he doesn't even have fangs!"

You all start walking again, laughing. 

"True, but he wore it better, even without fangs."

The comment causes Pete to start arguing with the speaker, which to the surprise of no one at all, was Jesse.

You keep your gaze on Sun a few moments more, head feeling a bit clearer for just a moment. He glances up suddenly, and waves to you, head tilting just slightly. Surprised, you also wave.

There's a buzz in your pocket. As you start to walk away again you check it. 

'Your costume is nice.'

You wait for another message, you don't get one.

'Thanks???' You're confused. 

'Something wrong?'

'I just would have expected you to say something snarky at this point. Genuine compliments aren't your style'

You narrowly dodge an eager trick or treater running by you, nodding at their parent as they apologize. 

'It's Halloween. I'm in a good mood, don't sour it for me'

You scoff, 'There it is. I don't plan to, though it's tempting to have Clara swing by with the kids just for the fun of it'

From there, your normal bickering comes forth, and you continue it both as you head to the party and while at it. It's a bit busier than you expected, more employees than you expected are there mingling about the dancefloor.

The entire west arcade, like the rest of the Plex, is done up with decorations that set the mood. There's even a fog machine, adding to the spooky but cheerful atmosphere.

You still feel pretty funny though, and thus take the time to go 'cool off' out in the hall for a bit. 

It grows worse and you have to lean back against the wall. Head throbbing as you try to drink more punch in the hopes that will solve it. Your vision flashes again, purple, and suddenly you're not in the same location anymore. 

It's dark, and you're standing over someone. You can't see their face, it's covered with static. They're crying, hands up in surrender. You feel yourself chuckle, but it's not your voice, your tone is off. It's gravely. Not your own. 

Suddenly, out of your control, your hand, which is not your hand but some, clawed, thing, comes down and-

Your vision goes red and you clutch your head in pain. Gasping, you find yourself back in the hallway, back in your body. Back to normal. 

You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. You don't know what that was. You don't want to find out, either. 

"Not enjoying the party, Andromeda?"

You look up, standing above you is Moon. He's also dressed up for this, wearing a witch costume that has more aspects of his usual wear to it than Sun's did. His color scheme is purple with bits of orange, and his usual hat is replaced by a large witch hat. 

You relax, the pain is gone, for now, "Trying to. I've not been feeling so hot, honestly."

"What's wrong?" He sits down across from you, cross-legged.

You shake your head, "I don't know. My head has just been, feeling funny. And hurts. A lot, really. Been blocking it out I guess."

"How unfortunate. Perhaps I could be of help?"

You shrug, "You can try, but don't feel like you have to, either."

Moon holds out his hand to you, and you set your palm on top of his. He intwines your fingers, which makes your face heat up, but you think with all the paint on your face it's impossible to tell. You look up to him, waiting. 

"Close your eyes, and take a deep breath," He urges.

You do. The pain has subsided some, though not by much.

"Breathe in," Pause, "Breathe out."

You follow his instructions, each breath helping to soothe you bit by bit. 

You realize however, that even with your eyes closed, there's a purplish tint to the blackness behind your eyes. You frown, and notice that it grows when you breath in, and subsides as you breathe out.

Moon's grip tightens on yours, but keeps speaking. 

"In," His tone shifts, growing hoarser, sinister? "Out..."

Alarm spikes in your stomach, but yet, your mind stays calm, almost like its-

You open your eyes, smiling softly, "I think I'm good now. Thanks, Moon-man."

He nods. 

Then, something occurs to you.

"Wait a minute, shouldn't you be passing out candy to the kids-" You blink, and you're alone in the fully lit hallway. 

You rub your eyes, had the lights been on that entire time? You knew that sometimes the two AI could avoid a switch if the light level wasn't fully one way or the other. But this was different. 

You don't get to dwell on it, as a scream erupts from inside the west arcade, several others following. Alarmed, you sit up, ignoring the pain in your skull that's back with a vengeance and rush inside. 

You find a crowd has gathered around the center of the dancefloor. The music's been cut, and people are muttering with horrified looks at whatever’s in the middle of the group.

As you move past people who are covering their mouths or eyes, some are crying, some are shaking their heads in disbelief. You find your team among them.

"What's going on?" You ask after shoving past another person. 

Savannah shakes her head, and Liv cowers further into Tyler's arms. You've never seen him so grim. 

You realize two of them are missing, your fear grows, "...Where's Jesse and Pete?"

Tyler nods to the center of the crowd, and you quickly take the few further steps to burst out into the opening, finding your fears confirmed plainly. 

Pete sits on the ground, crying as he cradles a body wrapped in white cloth stained red. You have to flick your eyes away from it for a moment, the sight being beyond shocking.

Swallowing and keeping your eyes to the ground, you slowly approach Pete and sit down. Briefly, you find your eyes meeting your, Christ, your dead friend's. His eyes are wide, mouth open in pure horror.

You turn back to the man beside you, setting your hand on his shoulder as he jumps, "What happened?"

"The, the lights cut, just, he just," He can't seem to look away, he's shaking, "I don't, I don't know how this would've, who could've, do-done this..."

You put your other hand on his other shoulder, forcing him to turn and look to you, "Pete. Breathe. Just breathe. Okay?"

He nods slowly, and you turn to behind the crowd behind you, "Please tell me somebody's called the cops?"

"No signal, trying to get ahold of Derrick in the office, but haven't had any luck," You realize that it's Bri who's answering you, looking rather grim in her black cat costume. 

You nod, "Right. Who's got basic medical training? I think he's gone into shock."

Someone steps forward, and starts tending to Pete. Someone else comes forward and lays a sheet over Jesse's body. A ghost costume you realize, how ironically morbid.

You stand, and-unfortunately being the person with the most experience in this scenario-try your best to take charge and calm things down. You also feel some level of responsibility, given that all the other Division Heads seem to be missing now.

Working with Bri, you send a group to the security office to see if they can't notify the police of what's happened. Additionally, you try to lock down the area to keep this from getting beyond the walls of this room and causing mass panic. Not to mention, you have no idea who did this, meaning they're still among you as far as you're aware. 

It's all going as smooth as it can be until Bri and the other guards’ radios erupt with screaming. Causing you to pause in your discussion with Savannah. 

You can barely make out what they're saying, only catching snippets here and there.

"-Something in the office!"

"Everybody's dead, oh god, they're all-"

"Help! Please! Anybody!"

To make matters worse, the lights cut again, sending the growing paranoia among the crowd into a full blown hysteric mob. You can't make out a thing in the dark, and when your head starts aching again, purple blinding you, you know you're a goner for the time being. 

Another vison comes to you, this time, the room is dimly lit, and you can tell this is a closet of some kind.

Again, you tower over a cowering figure who you realize is, David? What in the world is he doing here? What is happening?

"I don't know what they see in you, if anything at all," A voice that's not your own, yet comes from you, says. It's familiar but yet you can't-

David's sentence is shaky, "Look, I don't know what you want but I don't want any trouble. Okay?"

"Trouble? Friend, you're in a lot more than just trouble," There's something heavy in your hands, it glints in the light, "I'll tell you what though, if you hold still you'll be saving me a lot!"

Axe, it's an axe and it's swinging, down, down, down-

"Hey, it's alright. You're alright," Bri's shaking you, hand on your shoulder. 

You take a deep breath, realizing you're on your knees in a room lit by a red emergency light and some flashlights. Glancing around, you see all your friends, including Abby and even Jacob are here with you. There's a few others who you're guessing are other security guards based on how they stand near the door, on edge. 

You look back to Bri, "How'd I get here?"

Bri juts her thumb, "Tyler found you half out of it on the ground and grabbed you. Somehow carried Liv here too."

"I'm stronger than I look," He flexes with a nod. 

You manage to crack a weak smile, clutching your head as more pain shoots through it, "What happened? Where are we?"

"Security office by Fazerblast," Bri answers, glancing over at the covered window in the door, which you realize has been barricaded, "Furthest we could get safely with this many people."

"What do you mean by safely?"

She opens her mouth, but Pete speaks up, "The bots have gone awol." You turn to see he's on the ground, leaning up against the wall, blood dripping down the side of his head, face solemn, angry, "They're picking us off one by one. Anybody in sight is getting killed off. Doesn't help that we can't see a fuckin' thing and they can."

Your eyes widen, "What? …but, why? How?"

"Does it matter?" He asks, looking to you now, "We're dead meat if we try to leave, but we're sitting ducks here."

Bri scolds him, "We're not sitting ducks. This our best chance of getting out of here alive. If we can get power to the cameras, even better."

"Working on it," Liv says, something sparking as she speaks, "But I'm not an electrical engineer."

"Just give it up, Liv. There's no point," Pete scoffs, shaking his head.

He and Bri start arguing, Savannah trying to interject to keep the peace.

Someone sits down beside you, hand resting on your shoulder. 

It's Abby, her Glamrock makeup is smeared with dried tear streaks, "Hey."

"Hey," You sigh.

She bites her lip, "Are, are your siblings...?"

Your eyes widen and shake your head.

"God no. They're, they're safe. Out trick or treating with Clara," You put a hand to your face, relieved as you realize that fact, "Your brother?"

She sighs, "Also safe. With my parents. Not here. But," She stops, and you know exactly what she's thinking. 

You nod, turning away as you hear her sniffle. Your friends are still fighting, the guards by the door are getting antsy, another spark startles Liv and she looks ready to cry. You need to do something. 

Your vision turns purple but you shake it off immediately. Whatever this is, it can wait. You're going to make it.

Standing, and clutching your arm to keep it from twitching, you clear your throat, "We're not going to die here. Not on my watch. Bri, you and your guys here have any sort of weapon?"

"Tasers. And there should be a baton in here somewhere. Why, what are you thinking?"

You nod to the control panel for the cameras, "If there's anyone who can get those working in a blackout, it's Lizzy. And I know they were in Fazerblast before all this. Hell, it might've been their team that caused the outage."

"You want to go out there?" Pete asks, "Are you insane?"

You shrug, "Have to be at least a little bit to do this job. Someone give me a radio. We can at least double check before considering it."

Bri hands you her radio, and after a moment's hesitation, you set it to the engineers' channel and hold in on the button, "Lizzy, you still okay out there?"

Quiet. Your friends exchange a few bleak glances. 

You're about to try again when, "Uh, yeah? Why wouldn't I be?"

Relief, you think Pete even cracks a small smile. 

"There's... a lot of shit going down in the Plex right now, how have you not heard about it?"

"Dude we've been stuck in Fazerblast for hours. Besides trying to fix the power the doors got jammed. I'm not leaving until this is done though, so we just kind of ignored it. Did think it was weird there was no parents complaining about not being able to use a half-functioning attraction though." Their tone is so casual you have no choice but to believe it. 

The information, however, is huge, "That's, actually the best case scenario for us right now. So listen up, we gotta do this right or we don't stand a chance."

After explaining the full situation to Lizzy and their team, you work with your friends to come up with a plan. A good one. Something tells you you're only going to get one shot at this. 

Meanwhile, you struggle to keep it together. You keep getting more and more flashes of that other perspective. Speaking in those voices that you can't quite place how you know. Increasingly, you start to recognize the locations they're in are getting more familiar to where you are currently. 

It's a no brainer to you then, that you're a part of the team that goes to retrieve Lizzy. You force Bri to stay in the office, along with one of the guards. If you don't make it back, you at least want some people to stay safe. 

You try and fail in vein to stop Pete and Abby from coming with you, Tyler picks you up again when you question him coming along. 

"We're better off in even groups," Pete argues, gripping the metal chair leg he stole tightly, "Makes our chances that much better."

You don't disagree, but you don't like it either, "Fine, you're right. Now put me down please, Ty."

"Can do boss," He sets you down. 

You're all armed as best you can. The guard, Joseph, has a taser, and Tyler has-apparently-pure brute force on his side. Pete has the chair leg, which is similar to the stun baton you're carrying.

Abby has brass knuckles. You don't know how she has those but you're not going to question it. Apparently, Utah state law doesn't have any clauses relating to them, now you know.

You move quickly and silently through open darkness to get to the staff entrance to Fazerblast, which is thankfully only a short distance away. You all stay close, not saying a word as you navigate. 

There's not a soul around, human or machine. You don't know if it you puts you more on edge or not. 

When you get to the door, Pete's able to get it open quickly, and you all file inside, locking it again soon thereafter. 

The light inside the attraction is blinding in comparison to the darkness outside, the music and sound effects playing as if everything is entirely normal. It's almost more eerie in that regard. 

You find Lizzy and their crew sitting around one of the towers, the reunion is brief, but happy. It's agreed that the senior engineer will come with your group, and the parts and service crew will stay for safety reasons. You're about to depart again, when the radio starts going crazy. 

"We've got issues here!" Bri shouts down the line, "Don't come back, it's not safe!"

Static blares from the device, followed by banging, shouting, crying, and then a loud crash. The silence that follows is deafening. 

"Fuck. No, no, no," You bang on the side of the radio, "Come on, Bri! Savannah! Anyone!?"

No answer. 

"Dammit!" You toss the radio to the side, hands coming up to grip the sides of your head, "Dammit, dammit, dammit."

A hand on your shoulder, Abby again, "There's nothing we can do right now. We're going to have to refocus. Plan. Hope that they'll be okay-"

There's a banging at the front entrance to Fazerblast. Everyone freezes. 

You think quickly as the sound grows in volume, "Lizzy, how in control of the power are you currently?"

They dig through their bag, and toss you a makeshift remote, "It's what we've been using to test."

The pounding gets louder, and the shutter creaks. 

"Everybody who isn't armed find a place to hide. The rest of you are with me. We're gonna flip the tables on them."

Everyone scatters, and you make your way to the doors. You have no idea what's on the other side of that metal shutter, but you're going to find out one way or another. You'd rather it be on your terms. 

"Can you get it open?" You ask Pete, hitting the lights and leaving only a flashlight to see.

He nods, "You're sure about this?"

"As I'll ever be. Abby, Joe, Ty, go hide nearby. We'll assess the biggest threat and go from there."

They all nod, and head off into the darkness.

Pete gets the panel open, taking a deep breath, "I hope you're right."

You press your back against the wall beside the panel, almost accustom to the feeling of your vision switching to purple. That other perspective is right outside now. You see Freddy is the one banging on the door, along with several map bots. You squeeze your eyes shut and you're back in your body again.

"Me too."

There's a beep, and the shutter slowly starts to raise. Quickly, you grab Pete and shove him on the other side of you, using your arm to press him up against the wall beside you. 

As bots start pouring in, you lean your head back against the wall, holding your breath. 

You watch as they fan out, scouring for anyone that they think is in here. They don't see you. You relax slightly.

You turn to Pete and nod, guarding him as he moves and shuts the door again, it quietly sinks back to the ground, locking you in here for the time being. 

Moving across the wall, you regroup with the others. 

"I counted six staff bots, and Freddy," Abby whispers. The other three agree. 

Pete keeps lookout on your corner, "The music still playing helps us a little, but not a lot. We stick together, and go one by one, saving Freddy for last."

You frown, "Freddy's not last."

"What do you mean? Of course he is, he's going to be the hardest to take down."

You shake your head, "You miscounted. There's one more animatronic that made it in."

"Who?"

Off in the distance, you hear it, the jingle of bells. There's a flash of red as he lands on one of the walls, far off from you but within your line of sight. 

You shake away the purple again, knowing it's going to show you what he's seeing at that moment, "Moon."

You fare better than you expected. A bunch of humans versus machines. You manage to take down three of the staffs bots in the dark, and by screwing with the lights a few times, manage to disorient the Daycare Attendant enough to keep them from discovering your location. 

However, one of the parts n services guys gets found out, and his terrified screams as your claws rip him apart send, something, down your spine.

You know something's wrong with you now. You're taking far too much joy in beating in the metal skull of the staff bot below you. Oil splattering your clothes and face. You feel manic, alive. Out of control. 

You shake your head, stopping. You ignore the glances being sent your way, you have to make it through this. 

With this one you realize there's only one more staff bot left, then it's just Freddy and the Daycare Attendant. You flick the lights off again, huddling together with the others. 

"If we go for one, the other is going to know. Our best bet is to divide and conquer," Pete says. 

You nod, "One person with an electric weapon per team, one with something heavy. Tyler, you go with the group at the disadvantage to even it out."

Your teams end up being Joseph, Abby, and Tyler together to take on Freddy, leaving you and Pete to deal with Moon. 

You trudge through the darkness, silence between the two of you. 

There's been a voice in your head for a bit now. You block out whatever it says. Your grip feels shaky on the baton, and you can tell Pete's on edge more because of you than the looming threat somewhere out in the dark.

Keep it together. You just have to keep it together.

"Hello, Diana."

You turn, he pulls you up into the air, away from Pete. You don't even think to scream, instead only able to watch terrified as the ground and your friend get further and further away. 

Moon settles on one of the towers to set you down again, and you scramble back and fall onto the ground, looking up at him with fear. 

His faceplate twists, observing you. Then, his eyes narrow cheekily and he chuckles lowly. 

"What's the matter, Bright Eyes? You look like you've seen a ghost."

You bit your lip as it trembles, raising the baton as a threat, "W-with how this night is going it's, certainly a possibility."

"But that's not my costume now, is it?" He takes a step closer. 

You hold firm with the baton, hitting the button for the taser part to go off, "Moon-man, I don't want to hurt you. Don't make me."

The spark seems to deter him, growling.

"Why are you doing this? What did any of these people do to you?" You ask, beg in your words, "Killing innocent people? That's not you."

Moon snickers, and despite your waving of the baton, he moves closer, clawed finger resting on the end of it. He presses it down as he crouches to your level. 

You now sit eye to eye with him as he speaks, "Andromeda, would you like to know a secret?"

Your grip tightens on your weapon, head shaking once. That doesn't deter him. 

He leans in closer, his smile hovering just above your lips. 

"This is the best Halloween I've ever had," Then, he kisses you. You're so surprised that you don't feel the baton be taken from your hand until it's gone. 

He pulls away, chuckling again.

A loud bang suddenly resonates in the space, and the Naptime Attendant starts to twitch and collapse on the ground in front of you.

Pete stands over you both, breathing heavy as he clutches the chair leg in both hands. 

"Sorry, had to take the stairs."

Moon snarls and flips around, hand raising ready to slash across the man's chest. 

Panicked, you hit the button for the lights. 

But it's too late. 

As Sun's rays pop out, one by one, Pete can only stand there, blood slowly starting to soak through his shirt. He coughs, then takes a step forward, then another, stumbling past you into the wall. You quickly flip around as he collapses back against it, breathing ragged. 

"Well, at least now you look authentic," You turn back to see Sun standing hunched over, clutching his faceplate, "Though, it's still not quite as good as mine."

As he straightens, you have to suppress a gasp as it's revealed that one of his optics has shattered from the previous impact. 

His rays twitch and his focus snaps to you as you stand. 

His faceplate clicks to the side, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes, Sunshine."

"Sun." You can't reach for your baton without it being obvious. 

"Are you having a good Halloween? I know I am." He tsks, "A pity about your costume, though I suppose the grit and grime really sells it."

You take a deep breath, running the back of your hand under your nose to wipe away the blood that's dripping. Your vison flashes purple, and for a moment you find you’re staring down at yourself. 

You're a mess. Hair all over the place, clothes torn. There's streaks in the paint covering your skin. There's still blood coming out your nose a little bit.

And your eyes are bright purple.

You come back to and watch Sun's eyes narrow.

You shift slightly, hand twitching.

You see there’s a slight shadow over Sun’s eyes. And in his good optic a small white pupil flicks to your hand. You swallow.

 "Don't do something you'll regret, Icarus."

You stamp your foot down onto the baton, it pops up into your hand and you click to turn it on.

You jut your chin out, tilting your head slightly, "Come on, Sun. You know me better than that."

You rush forward, he steps back, dodging and spinning to face you as you charge again. It's almost like a dance of danger. And it truly becomes one when Sun takes one of your hands and spins you around, dipping you low and back up as you try and fail again to use the baton on him. 

You let out a noise of frustration. Charging forward again, the two of you go round and round. Narrowly you miss him every time. Narrowly he dodges every swing. He’s fast. Faster than you’d have ever anticipated, than he’d ever let on about. You never realized how close to death you may have been all this time.

After another miss, this one the closet you’ve gotten yet, Sun puts an end to your game. He grabs hold of the baton, only flinching as you turn it on, and rips it from your grip, tossing it aside. He spins you into his arms and holds tight. 

You fight against him in vain. 

"You know, Bright Eyes. I would have thought you'd appreciate your treat a bit more than this," He snarls the words, "But maybe you've been too busy resisting it to do so."

You slow your struggling, and Sun releases you finally. The words having done the job far better than his hold to sedate you.

You turn to face him cautiously.

"You, you did this?" You ask, "You did this to me?"

Sun tuts, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, "Well, technically you did it to yourself, Bright Eyes. But I'm happy you did. Makes all of this much, much easier."

It suddenly hits you that he's right. Maybe not intentionally, or fully knowing, but you made the choice to go back to the computer. You chose to try and turn it off again. You could have left the office, it would've shut down eventually. Something had compelled you to come closer and investigate, and you had made the choice to listen. 

And now you were suffering from the cost.

"Now, let's finish this up, hm?" Sun bends and kisses you, pulling away after a moment, "You wouldn't want to disappoint now, would you?"

You don't answer. Your feet move on their own as they turn to face Pete, who seems to realize what's happening before you do. 

He clutches the wound on his stomach tighter, breathing quickening, "Come on, snap out of it! This isn't you! You know it's not."

"Quiet over there, you'll get your chance to speak in just a moment," There's something set down in your hands, you know what it is, "Don't worry, I'll help you. No need for tears."

You find that you are crying, but can't do a thing to stop it. Your body is not your own, your emotions are not your own. You are entirely out of control as Sun guides you to march staggeredly towards Pete.

Off in the distance you hear shouting as your remaining friends try in vain to take down Freddy. Not that it mattered. Even if they did, you'd be finishing the job.

Your breathing is heavy but controlled, grip on the axe tight, all you can do is stare down at Pete, who looks up at you horrified, eyes wide. You think the look matches the fear in your own gaze.

Sun's hands are on your shoulders, voice a purr in your ear, "Go on, Starlight. You know what you need to do."

The axe raises jerkily, fighting against it and losing. Your eyes snap shut, and it comes down. Again, and again, and again.

You block out everything, all noise, all touches. You block out the sound of sickening crunches and squelches, of Pete's heavy gasps, of Sun murmuring encouragement right beside you all the while. 

You block out the wood rough against the skin of your hands, the blood, sweat, and tears, running down your face. Sun's hands wrapped around your waist, head resting on your shoulder. 

You suddenly regain control and your eyes shoot open, throwing the axe away from you and stumbling back into Sun's arms. Your hands come up to your face as you sob, shaking your head. 

He just holds you as you cry, muttering things you can't comprehend as he presses kisses to your hair. 

When you finally subside to sniffles is when he pulls back to press a kiss to your lips.

"There, there, you're alright, Bright Eyes. Come on now," He lifts you to your feet, arms pulling you closer as he leans in for another kiss, "I'll let you pick who's next, how's that?" 

You shoot up from your bed, heart racing. You clutch your chest, breathing hard. 

You're at home. Sitting on your bed. You're fine. Everything's fine.

There's a yawn to your left that interrupts your thoughts. 

It's Gabe, laying on the bed beside you in his pumpkin costume. He yawns again, and stares curiously up at you, fist in his mouth. You pat his head with a sigh.

Right, you were going to put him down for a nap before heading out to trick or treat, then go to the Plex for the same thing. Looks like you ended up taking a nap too. 

You check the time, it's almost five. Suddenly, a thought hits you square in the face.

"Did I kiss Sun?" You say aloud. 

You do your best to recall the fading nightmare.

Oh god, you did. Right on his stupid flat face. Multiple times. You kissed Moon to but you're less opposed to that albeit confused-but Sun?

Involuntarily you gag, now feeling the sudden urge to rinse out your mouth, even if it had just been to his faceplate, much less a dream. 

Shaking your head, you turn to look down at your brother, who's now somehow managed to get his foot in his mouth, despite his costume. 

"Gabe, never down a bag of sour gummies and immediately take a nap, it'll give you crazy dreams."

You think you might leave the trick or treating to the kids tonight.

Something tells you that it’s for the best.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Oof, what a doozy huh? Imagine being the final girl AND the killer... crazy. Good thing it was all just a dream. Here's the promptober list and the spookvember schedule. Thanks for reading as always-

Oh?

What's this?

Looks like there's a link down here.

How'd that get there?

...

Hm.

You should click it. See what happens.

CLICK ME

btw the song playing while writing the fight scene was I Go Crazy - Orla Gartland and it was a VIBE and a half let me tell you-

[intimidating-fettuccine]

hihiiihiii I rlly love your writing :3 I was wondering if i could request (spicy) hcs of BEN, Toby and Jason reacting to their s/o in lingerie if you haven’t done that already !! Hope ur doing well 💗💗

I'm doing as well as I can, I hope you're also doing well <3 I also hope you enjoy this <3

BEN:

BEN is the type that would always want to see you in lingerie but would be far too shy to ever ask you to dress up in it for him. That doesn't mean he hasn't tried, of course, but every time he tries to he just gets so flustered by the thought of seeing you in it that he just freezes up and says never mind, a blush spread across his cheeks. You, obviously, have caught onto this fact and formed a little plan to surprise him, dressed up in emerald lingerie and posed in a way you were sure would knock his socks off. What you weren't expecting was for BEN to completely freeze upon seeing you for the first time. He'd stumbled into his room, closing the door and preparing to rant to you about his day, but upon whirling around with a big smile to greet you he'd frozen in his tracks, halting still as his eyes landed on your body, mind working 1,000 miles a minute to try and comprehend the sight of you spread so beautifully on his bed.

He eventually stammers out a question, asking if you did this just for him, your head tilting in response, a smile blooming on your face as you sit up that has his face bright red because of course you did. You beckon him forward with a curled finger, and he trips over himself to try and get to you, his hands crashing onto his bed as he crawls to you in his excitement. He can't even think once his lips meet yours, his hands trembling as he traces over the emerald lace squeezing you in all the right ways. Fingers slipping under the lingerie, body slipping between your legs, erection firm against your pelvis, but mind empty except for the need to fuck you. With BEN, the lingerie stays on during sex, so he can memorize the sight below him as he thrusts into you harder than he ever has before. Lingerie becomes a staple in your relationship after this, and BEN is no longer too shy to ask you to put some on for him. Now that he knows how sexy you look with lace wrapped around his favorite curves of yours, he'll simply have to repay you with as much pleasure as he can give you.

Toby:

Toby isn't exactly reserved with his fantasies about seeing you dressed up for him, in fact, it's something he's quite honest about. It could be anything, his own clothing, an apron, the new underwear he randomly got you last week, he doesn't care, it just drives him crazy to see you dressed up in something different. Your body intoxicates him in ways he hasn't experienced before, so it comes as no surprise to you that lingerie would drive him up the wall, and you're quick to take advantage of that fact. Presents should always be wrapped though, right? Toby isn't expecting what's waiting for him when he gets home that night, bounding over to you in excitement when he sees you curled up in bed with one of his hoodies hugging your body. He's quick to pull you into his arms, his lips meeting yours with a sigh as he forgets all about the stresses of the day, his hands squeezing and massaging you as he relaxes, fingers slipping under his oversized hoodie as he travels up your skin.

Toby's movements halt as he finds an unfamiliar texture wrapped around your hips. You can't help but giggle against his lips as he hums thoughtfully, his hands now moving across you faster, tracing out the shape of the lingerie hugging your form, his breath hitching as he pushes his hoodie off of you so he can finally take in the alluring sight below him. Eyes blown wide with lust, Toby exercises a delicateness you're not fully used to as he slips his fingers underneath your new lingerie, resisting the urge to rip the beautiful lace off of you, instead removing it slowly and surely as his cock throbs at the sight of you. He pays you back quite well for your gift, making sure to make you feel as good as possible as the vision of your lingerie-clad form haunts his memories, his hips unable to stop their movements in and out of you for far longer than he usually lasts. He just can't help but want to drive you as crazy as you drove him, his desire to bliss you out overtaking any other thought in his mind.

Jason:

Jason is no stranger to dressing you up, oftentimes in clothing he's made himself just for you, crafted to fit only your body in a way that makes you look absolutely perfect. Sometimes, though, you get the urge to try on something new, something he hasn't seen before, a challenge in itself as he often investigates and pesters you when you return home with new clothing, but that wouldn't stop you from making a secret trip to a lingerie store to surprise him. You'd waited for a day when he'd be out of the mansion all day to make the trip, returning home with time to spare to take a bath in his favorite scents, slipping on the vibrant red lingerie and one of the beloved robes he made for you to wait for him to get home. He was tired when he walked through his door, perking up at the sight of you relaxing in bed with a book on your lap, robe snug around your body as you welcomed him with open arms. He says you're a welcome surprise, his body relaxing into you, his hands wandering comfortingly as they always do.

He's always curious to see what you're wearing when he has to spend a day away from you, so it's no shock when he backs away from you to loosen your robe and slide it off your shoulders, but his relaxed and tired eyes widen as he finally spots the glittery red lingerie waiting for him, a mischievous look on your face as you try to hold back your laughter at the sheer amazement in his eyes as he takes in how sultry you look. He's quick to hum and begin to undo the laces keeping it on you, revealing the skin underneath it that he's quick to suck and caress, navigating down your body in a path that has you crumbling beneath him. He pins you down, where he'll keep you for the next several hours, his tongue already setting out for work, as in true Jason fashion he'll make sure to get you off countless times before even worrying about his throbbing cock in the excitement of your gift. He'll make sure to repay you 100 times over as he pleasures you more than you can handle tonight.

[eu-nicola]

the finish line part 4

and final - part 1 part 2 part 3

summary: you are the girlfriend of Lando Norris, Max Verstappen's rival with whom the tension between the two is undeniable.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 4264

author's note: english is not my first language

tags: @a-beaverhausen @maluzets55

The last few days of vacation had been anything but peaceful. It wasn't just Max's attention that weighed on you, but also the curious glances of others. Every time you went out, whether alone or in company, you felt like everyone was watching you, as if they suspected something beyond what was evident. Although you tried to remain indifferent, the pressure was beginning to affect you.

Max, for his part, seemed to handle everything with the same confidence with which he drove on the track. However, not even he could escape the public eye. When the vacation finally ended and the drivers returned to their routines, the questions at the press conferences began to take on a more personal tone. Instead of focusing solely on his recent championship, the journalists wanted to know more about his life off the track.

"Max, after your victory, you were seen celebrating intensely. Can you tell us more about that?" asked one of the reporters with an insinuating smile.

Max, sitting with his usual confident expression, just raised an eyebrow. “I celebrated like any champion would. It was a special moment for me and my team. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

The answer was direct, but not enough to divert attention. Another journalist intervened, this time with an even more incisive tone.

“There has been a lot of talk about a certain company during those celebrations. Any statement on that?”

Max smiled, although his eyes showed a glint of irritation. “My private life is just that: private. I’m here to talk about racing, not rumors.”

While Max dealt with the media pressure, you faced your own battles. Social media had become a minefield. Comments about you began to appear, some insinuating that you were too close to Max, others criticizing you for not always being by Lando’s side at the most important moments. There were those who said you were seeking attention, that you liked drama. The words hurt more than you wanted to admit. You tried to ignore them, but it was hard when every time you opened your phone there was something new waiting for you.

Lando, oddly enough, seemed to enjoy it all from a distance. Even though he had been your boyfriend for so long, his attitude was almost indifferent.

“What did you expect?” he said to you one night while you were talking on the phone because he had called you. “You’re in the public eye now. This is what happens. You should get used to it.”

His tone was so carefree that it infuriated you. Get used to it? To people questioning your loyalty, your feelings? While you dealt with the pressure, he seemed to enjoy his freedom, attending events and meetings without worrying about what they said about him.

“You know what, Lando? It would be easier if you at least seemed to care a little because you caused all of this,” you finally blurted out, your voice thick with frustration.

“I do,” he replied with a sigh. “But I also know that you can’t control what people say.”

The conversation ended, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Max, on the other hand, seemed ever-present, even if it was silent. You knew that if you texted him, he would respond immediately. But after everything that had happened, you resisted.

One afternoon, though, after a particularly rough day on social media, your phone buzzed with a message from him.

“How are you? I’ve seen what’s going on online. Don’t let it get to you. People always have something to say.”

His message was simple, but comforting. For a moment, you felt like you weren’t alone in all of this, that someone actually understood what you were going through.

The days followed, each bringing their own set of challenges. You tried to focus on your own things, but it was impossible to completely escape the whirlwind that had formed around you.

The weight of exposure began to become more than just an inconvenience; it felt like a constant burden you couldn’t let go of. Every time you opened your phone, every notification, every comment, every message seemed to add a new layer of self-doubt and anxiety. No matter how hard you tried to focus on your own life, your own projects, the shadow of social media and criticism was still there, haunting you.

One night, as you sat on the bed in your hotel room in Spain, you stared at your reflection in the dead screen of your phone. How had you gotten to this point? What had once been exciting—standing next to one of Formula 1’s most promising drivers—now felt like endless exposure to judgment and misunderstanding. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to breathe deeply, but even the air felt heavy.

You and Lando had officially broken up a few weeks ago. It had been an inevitable breakup, a step you both knew you had to take. There were no big arguments, no shouting, just a mutual recognition that things were no longer the same. Lando, for his part, seemed to have moved on without looking back. His social media showed photos of him at events, smiling with friends, enjoying his uncomplicated life. And you... you felt trapped in limbo.

Your relationship with Max, on the other hand, was in uncertain territory. There were no clear words, no labels that could define what you had, but there was something palpable between you both. Every message from him, every look, every conversation was imbued with a latent tension, a connection that seemed to go beyond the physical. You were on the verge of something, and you both knew it.

Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, breaking the silence of the room. You took it without looking, half expecting another critical message or a sensational article, but seeing Max's name on the screen, something in your chest momentarily eased.

Max: "Are you okay? I saw Lando uploaded something new, but he didn't mention anything about you. Do you need to talk?"

For a moment, you stared at the message. How did he always know when you were at your limit? You didn't know if it made you happy or upset. With shaking fingers, you started to type a reply, but you deleted the words before sending them. You didn't want to seem weak, even though deep down you knew Max was probably the only person at the moment who could understand what you were going through.

Minutes later, another message came through.

Max: "I'm here if you need to vent. You don't have to carry it all alone."

That simple statement broke down your defenses. You felt tears build up in your eyes, but you refused to let them out. You had endured so much, trying to be strong, but the emotional exhaustion was too much. You finally wrote:

You: “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Max. It all feels too much… The pressure, the comments, the exposure. Sometimes I feel like I’m falling apart.”

Max’s response was not long in coming.

Max: “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You’re stronger than you think, but I understand that this is all a lot. I want to see you. Let me help you carry this.”

Your heart was pounding as you read his words. There was something about his way of saying things that always managed to calm the storm inside you. The thought of seeing him, of being able to talk face to face, felt like a necessary balm. But there was also fear. Fear of what it would mean to take that step, to cross a line that already seemed so tenuous.

After a long silence, you finally wrote:

You: “I’m not ready for everything that comes with this, Max. But I want to see you too."

A little while later, you received a call. It was him. You hesitated for a moment before answering, but finally swiped your finger across the screen.

"I knew you would answer," Max said in his calm, confident tone. "I'm going to Spain this weekend. Because of you."

"Max, I don't know if that's a good idea," you whispered, though your voice betrayed your true feelings.

“It is,” he replied without hesitation. “Because this isn’t just pressure or exposure. It’s about us, about who we are when no one else is looking.”

His words resonated with you. Maybe you didn’t have to face it all alone after all.

The weekend came quicker than you expected. Max had kept his word and was in Spain, ready to see you. The first time you met him was in the lobby of your hotel. He was dressed in his usual laid-back style: a simple t-shirt and jeans, but there was something about his presence that always managed to capture your full attention.

When his blue eyes met yours, the air seemed to stand still for a moment. Max walked toward you with a determined stride, without any hesitation. Before you could say anything, he wrapped you in a firm hug, one that offered not only comfort, but also a silent promise: You are not alone.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice deep but gentle. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed in his arms for what seemed like an eternity. All the weight you had been carrying, all the pressure, slowly began to fade away. When you finally pulled away, Max looked at you with an intensity that made you feel seen, completely.

“Max…” you began, but he shook his head before you could continue.

“I don’t want you to worry anymore about what people say. We don’t owe them anything,” he stated, his tone firm. “Let me carry some of this burden with you. I won’t let outside pressure get to us, I won’t let this tear us apart.”

The determination in his voice made you feel a strange mix of relief and apprehension. You had been so used to dealing with everything alone that the idea of ​​allowing someone else to carry some of your worries seemed almost foreign to you. But Max wasn’t just anyone. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he was present, that gave you a security you didn’t even know you needed.

“What if we can’t handle it?” You asked, letting out one of your biggest insecurities.

Max took your hands, his fingers intertwining with yours. “We can,” he replied with unwavering conviction. “Do you know how many times I’ve been told I couldn’t accomplish something? Every time I’ve gotten in the car, I’ve had to prove them wrong. This is no different. We’re no different.”

His words stayed with you, offering a hope you hadn’t allowed to blossom until now. The idea of ​​facing all of this with him, together, suddenly didn’t seem so impossible.

For the rest of the day, Max remained by your side. Every time you saw a phone being raised to take a photo or heard a murmur as you passed, Max squeezed your hand lightly, as if reminding you that it didn’t matter what the world thought. He was there, with you.

That night, as you both sat in your room, Max leaned back on the couch, watching you with a calm smile.

"You know, as much as I love winning championships, being here with you feels like a different victory," he said, his tone lighter now.

“I didn’t know you had such a romantic side,” you joked, trying to lighten the tension in your chest.

“Only for you,” he replied, his gaze sincere. “And if you let me, I’ll prove it to you every day.”

You couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in weeks, you felt safe.

Days had turned into weeks, and your relationship with Max seemed to grow deeper with every moment shared. He was your refuge, your calm in the midst of the storm that continued to rage on social media and in the media. Yet as hard as you tried to stay strong, the persistent criticism was beginning to wear you down. Every article speculating about your life, every cruel comment you unintentionally encountered, made you feel more vulnerable.

The stress was building up. There were nights when you could barely sleep, your mind stuck in an endless cycle of questions and doubts. Was it all worth it? Could you continue to face constant scrutiny? Even though Max was doing his best to reassure you that you were in this together, a part of you was starting to wonder if it would be better for both of you if you stepped away.

One night, after a long day where Max had had multiple media engagements, you found yourself alone in the hotel room in Bahrain where you had flown to join him. The city lights shone through the windows, but they offered no comfort. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you stared at your phone. Notifications kept coming in: messages, social media mentions, articles with sensational headlines.

You sighed and turned off the screen, setting the phone aside. You couldn’t go on like this.

When Max returned, the first thing he noticed was your expression. He immediately came over, sitting next to you. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You looked up at him, and in that moment, the words began to come out unfiltered. “I don’t know if I can go through with this, Max. The pressure, the media, the comments… It feels like I’m losing control of my life.”

He frowned, his eyes reflecting both understanding and frustration. “I knew this was hard for you, but you don’t have to face it alone. I’m here, and you know that.”

“I know, Max,” you replied, a lump in your throat. “But I can’t help but feel like by being with you, I’m only making things worse. I don’t want to be a burden on you, or your career.”

Max took your hands, his grip firm but comforting. “You’ll never be a burden on me. And if you think walking away will solve anything, you’re wrong. People will always talk, no matter what we do.”

“What if I decide to walk away?” you asked quietly, fearing his reaction.

Max took a deep breath, processing your words. “If that’s what you need to feel better, I’ll respect that,” he finally said, though his voice betrayed his internal struggle. “But I want you to know that I’d rather face this hell with you, than be without you.”

His words brought tears to your eyes. He always found a way to break down your defenses. But the doubt was still there, fueled by fear and insecurity.

That night, as Max slept beside you, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. The decision to walk away wasn’t easy, but perhaps it was the only thing that could bring you some peace. Could you give up what you had to protect yourself? Or could you find a way to endure together, like he wished?

The night progressed slowly and silently. Even though Max slept beside you, you lay awake, caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. The dim glow of the city dimly illuminated the room, but offered no comfort. You turned slightly, watching Max's relaxed face as he slept. There was something almost innocent about his expression, a calmness that contrasted with the storm inside you.

You tried to close your eyes, but the weight of your doubts was still present. You didn't know how much time passed before you felt a slight movement beside you. Opening your eyes, you realized that Max was also awake now. His blue eyes, still heavy with sleep, looked at you with a mix of concern and tenderness.

"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, his tone laden with a care that only he could offer at this hour of the morning.

You shook your head, unable to find the words. Max sat up slightly, propping himself up on one elbow as he watched you closely.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he insisted, gently caressing your cheek with the back of his hand.

You took a deep breath, trying to contain the flood of emotions. But his eyes kept searching you, offering a reassurance that only he could provide. Finally, you decided to speak up.

“Max, I don’t know if I’m cut out for this,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “This whole world, the constant attention. And the last thing I want is for it to affect you, too.”

Max remained silent for a moment, processing your words. Then, he sat up fully, turning to face you.

“You know something?” he began, his tone firmer now. “Ever since I started in this sport, I’ve always been surrounded by people who admire me for what I do on the track. People who celebrate my victories and forget about me as soon as the season is over. But you… you’re different.”

You were surprised by the intensity of his words, and he continued before you could respond.

"You're the only person who truly sees me, beyond the driver, beyond the titles and the races. With you, I can be myself. I don't have to prove anything, I don't have to win to feel like I'm worth something. And that, to me, is everything."

Your heart skipped a beat, and Max moved a little closer, taking your hands in his.

"Without you," he said with an honesty that took your breath away, "this all becomes meaningless. Every time I cross the finish line, every trophy I lift, even before you were with me, before Lando stole you from me... it wouldn't mean anything if you weren't there for me."

The tears you'd been holding back began to fall silently, but Max didn't look away. Instead, he squeezed your hands tighter, as if to assure you that he wasn't going to let you go.

"I need you by my side," he confessed. “Not just because of what we share, but because you are my balance. You are the person who reminds me why I do what I do, and who I really am when everything else shuts down.”

You stayed silent, letting his words sink in. You had underestimated how important you were to him, how much you meant beyond the insecurities and doubts that plagued you. Seeing him like this, so vulnerable and honest, made you realize something: you weren’t alone in this. It wasn’t just your struggle; it was both of ours.

“Max…” you began, your voice shaking slightly. “I need you too. But this is all so hard. I don’t want the pressure to destroy us.”

“It won’t,” he replied determinedly. “Together we are stronger. It doesn’t matter what people say, what they think. The only thing that matters is what you and I feel. And I feel like we can handle this. If you’re willing to try, I’m not going to let anything or anyone tear us apart.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and hope. Max pulled you close to him, wrapping you in a warm, protective embrace. You stayed like that for a long moment, finding comfort in each other's closeness.

The next day was not really just any other day, after weeks of preparation and nerves, the first race of the year was finally here. Nerves ran through the paddock, and the usual bustle of competition filled the air, but there was something different this time. You had come, as always, to support Max, but this time you would do so in an even more visible way, closer to him than ever.

Max, with his relaxed but focused attitude, was ready to prove that, despite the rumors and criticism, nothing could stop him. He had told you about how he wanted to start the season with a win, not just for himself, but also to show the world that he was at his best, that nothing the media said or speculated could tarnish his success. He looked at you before getting into the car, his eyes shining with fierce determination, but also with a special warmth just for you.

The race was action-packed, as you would expect. Max stuck to his strategy, fighting for every position with that mix of precision and bravery that characterized him. Every lap was a mix of excitement and anxiety, not just for him, but for you, who were watching from the pits. You knew how much this victory meant to him, and as you watched him outpace each opponent, the tension took hold of you.

Finally, the checkered flag fell, and Max crossed the finish line in first place. The sound of the engine fading as he celebrated the victory made your heart skip a beat. As soon as the race was over, all eyes turned to him: the champion, the favorite, the icon.

You ran to him as soon as you could see him, where you found him surrounded by his team. You couldn’t help but smile in happiness for him, but also at the feeling that, in that moment, everything that had happened between you had come to this point, to this victory. When Max saw you in the crowd, his face lit up. There were no words needed; he just ran to you, wrapping you in a hug so tight you almost felt like he was lifting you off the ground.

After the anthems and champagne, trophy in hand, Max stepped up to the camera for an interview that was, of course, going to be broadcast live. What happened next surprised everyone. Instead of going on with the typical answers about the race, Max took a moment, with a smile full of pride, to talk about you.

"I want to dedicate this win to someone very special," he began, his words laden with sincerity. "To my amazing partner, who has been with me through the toughest times, when I needed it the most. I want everyone to know that without her, this win wouldn't have the same meaning. She is my support, my strength, and my love."

Your heart was pounding, but what touched you the most was his next statement.

“She’s the person who makes me feel the happiest I’ve ever been, and I can’t imagine my life without her. My love, you’re the love of my life.”

The cameras focused on your face, and even though a torrent of emotions washed over you, you couldn’t help but smile shyly, a little embarrassed by the sudden attention, but deeply grateful for his very public support. Max hadn’t just won a race; he’d done something much bigger: he’d opened his heart in front of millions of people.

The moment became more intense when the crowd applauded, and some began to cheer for you as well. Even though you knew that not all of Max’s fans would be happy with his statement, something in the air had changed. The media had tried to paint you in many ways, but in that instant, it didn’t matter. Max’s victory, the way he had publicly defended you, was a clear message: you were together, no matter what anyone said.

As the days passed, something unexpected happened. Amidst the criticism and speculation, you began to notice a change. The comments started to become kinder. At first, some of Max's most loyal followers were still hesitant, but as time went by, their support for you began to grow. Photos of the two of you, the photos that Max shared of you, in which you looked so happy and peaceful together, began to appear on fans' profiles, and words of support began to outweigh the criticism.

You were surprised to see how many people were willing to embrace your relationship, to understand that behind the image of a successful driver, there was a real person, someone who also had the right to be happy and to love. Some of the fans, even the most skeptical, began to comment positively on the posts, talking about how beautiful you looked together, how genuine your relationship was.

One night, after a race, while you were sharing a quiet moment with Max, you received a message from one of Max's most loyal followers. They said something simple but profound: “We are glad to see you so happy with Max. You deserve all the good that is to come.”

That night, as you went to bed, Max came to you, smiling with that familiar calm, and whispered in your ear: “See? The rumors don’t matter anymore. What really matters is what we have built together.”

And finally, after so much effort, so much sacrifice, you knew that you were both ready to face the future, not just as a couple, but as an unstoppable team. Together. And perhaps in the future, as a family.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 48

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 45, part 46, part 47

Everyone forms a circle in Steve’s living room. Sitting crossed legged on the floor, waiting. Some people are missing, El wanted to stay with her dad, and Jonathan’s still avoiding Nancy at all costs. There’s a walkie in the center of the circle, open to the same channel. If El needed them, she could listen.

Steve, Robin, and Nancy are talking in the kitchen. Probably getting a little bit drunk. Coping in a way that they won’t let the rest of them. Trying to be the strong ones, when they don’t have to. Tonight’s going to be rough for all of them, they could break just once without consequence.

It’s almost time, Dustin goes to get them.

“Nance,” he hears Robin say, “he won’t come. He’s still pissed at you.”

“And me,” Steve adds.

A glass gets placed hard on the counter. “I don’t care. Before all of this, he was my friend.” He hears their steps move toward the front door and the rustle of keys. “We were there for each other when this started, we’re going to be there for each other as it ends.”

“But if he doesn’t want to talk to you,” Steve tries to reason.

“I don’t care.” There’s a slight waiver to Nancy’s voice. Dustin’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry over this. Seen any of them cry over this. “I don’t know how I can get through this without him, and I’m not going to find out.”

Dustin walks to the hall as the front door opens. Jonathan’s behind it, looking like he was in the middle of a debate with himself. He doesn’t look good. Eyes red rimmed and drooping. Clothes rumpled and looked like they were a few days old.

“Hey,” he says with a hollow voice.

“Hi,” Nancy responds.

He clears his throat. “I’m still pissed at you, but—” he trails off.

“I know.”

The clock on the wall ticks five minutes till nine. “Guys,” Dustin calls down the hall. “It’s almost time.”

Steve’s head nods, solemn. “Let’s go.”

Eddie’s there when they return to the living room, sitting on the floor. “Kids said I could join,” he says to Steve. Something unreadable in his eyes. “Is that ok?”

“Course it is,” Steve says as he sits next to Eddie. Closer than Dustin was expecting.

The circle closes and they join hands. Tangible proof that everyone is still here. Dustin is between Robin and Erica, with Steve just on the other side of Robin. Right there. Alive.

Right on cue, the fireworks start.

Dustin squeezes his eyes shut with the first boom. Sparks visualize in his mind. Red arms of flesh swinging at him. He takes the fireworks and throws it. They win, but at what cost.

Erica tightens her grip on his hand. He squeezes back to show her he’s alive.

“Steve,” Robin whispers.

“Still alive,” he responds. Voice wet.

Dustin feels her shift closer to him.

He forces his eyes open, forces the visions to stop. Those of the group who have their eyes open meet his gaze. All of them in a state of fear or grief. They are all in this together. The fireworks continue to boom.

Nancy keeps looking over to Mike to make sure he’s there. Before nodding at each of them, counting heads. Jonathan’s legs are pulled up to his chest. Will keeps flinching his one arm, ready to feel the eeriness creep at his neck. Lucas moved his arm around Erica’s shoulders, holding her close.

He looks at all of them and knows that he isn’t alone. He isn’t alone in his pain, or his wishing things could be different. As Mike and Nancy look at each other again, he knows they spend so much time wishing the other wasn’t a part of this. As Max can’t hold in her cries anymore, he knows that Lucas wishes he never told her about the upside down that day.

As Steve mutters out a quiet, “I work at Scoops,” Dustin wishes he never dragged him into this.

But the past can’t change. It’s already been written. Dustin can hope and wish and pray that things played out differently. He can blame himself for the rest of his life, but it won’t change anything. Because their paths would have always converged in the same way. Always leading them here.

The radio crackles in the center of the circle, El’s voice comes through. “Almost over.”

He knows that he’ll always probably blame himself. That he will always wish that things were different. That he’ll wish the nightmares were normal ones about his teeth falling out in class or forgetting he had a test. He’ll wish that time was different, that his life never had to change like this. But maybe he can make peace with the fact that it will never change.

Maybe he can make peace that these people don’t blame him for this. They’ll wish the same as him, that they never got involved, but it was inevitable. That night when Will went missing, it changed the paths for everyone in this room. Choices were made that can’t be taken back, and they’ll regret some of them for the rest of their lives.

But, with each other, they can move forward from this as one and finally heal. The last fight has been fought. Been won. As the time moves forward, so can they. Together.

“Brace yourselves,” Dustin whispers, knowing what the big finale is like. They all wait for it to end.

He used to love fireworks. Would beg his mom to bring him to the fair every year just so he could see him. And when he was old enough, he would bike there with the party and just stand there in awe. The perfect mix of science, his greatest love, making art in the sky.

As the last boom of the night rings through the air, Dustin hopes he can enjoy it again someday. He promises himself that one day, he will.

No one moves for a few minutes after they end. Sitting still to calm the beatings of their hearts. They made it through.

Almost in synchrony, they all start to move. Standing up, wiping the tears from their eyes. Returning to normal. Finding themselves again.

“Steve?” Eddie asks softly after Steve doesn’t move. Sitting there rigid.

He nods. “I’m ok.” He straightens his back, revealing the wet trail of tears down his cheeks. “You ready?” he asks Robin.

“Yeah.”

She gets up first, holding out her hand for him. They go in two different directions. Robin getting a bag from the hallway, while Steve grabs a bottle of alcohol from the cabinet and a box of matches.

Dustin follows them as they go outside. “What are you guys doing?”

Steve places the bottle of alcohol, what looks like expensive tequila, next to the fire pit. “After that night, we made a pact. A year from then, we burn our uniforms.”

“To prove that we made it out,” Robin continues, her voice sounding dry. “To prove that we never have to go back.”

She hands Steve the bag and he dumps the uniforms into the fire pit. The blood and sweat soaked uniforms ready to be set ablaze.

Steve unscrews the tequila and pours it over them, wasting more than he probably should.

“You want to do the honors,” he asks Robin, handing her the box of matches.

She takes it with shaky hands, striking the match and tossing it into the pit. The fire starts instantly.

Robin sobs as she falls into Steve. His cries are silent as he wraps her in a hug. Holding each other as they watch the outfit from the worst night of their lives burn to ash. Dustin walks back inside, letting them have this moment to themselves.

Eddie is watching from the sliding doors. “What are they burning?”

“Their Scoops uniforms, they were wearing them when it all went down.”

Nancy walks up to the door. “I never knew what happened to them that night, every time I try to ask, they avoid answering it.”

She looks at Dustin for answers he doesn’t even know the whole of. “I think they were tortured. When we went into that bunker, we got separated. They held the door closed so me and Erica could escape into the vent. After we rescued them, Steve’s face was beaten up and they were tied to chairs, and drugged. I never got any confirmation, but I knew.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathes out. Still staring out the glass. His arms held close to his chest.

“Do you remember their faces when we went into that vent,” Erica asks from behind them. “They were scared, but they still chose to save us.”

Dustin turns, seeing the group that had formed behind him. All watching the fire outside. He nods. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”

“There are so many things from that night that I won’t forget,” Max speaks up.

“There are so many things from the last four years that I won’t forget,” Mike adds.

Will reaches to grab his hand. “Yeah.”

“We should go back to the living room,” Nancy says. “So we’re not just staring at them.”

Eddie is the last to leave the room, still staring at them through the door.

“He’s been acting weird all week," he explains as Dustin hangs back. “I knew it had to be something bad, I just didn’t imagine that.”

“No one wants to imagine half the things that we’ve been through.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

They rejoin the group in the living room. Jonathan grabs his keys and fills his car with the people who want to go home. Him and Nancy talking before he leaves. She hangs around, making sure everyone left is taken care of.

Eddie just sits on the couch, looking out of place. But he’s waiting for something, Dustin can tell.

“Hey,” Mike nudges Dustin’s shoulder. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re going over to my house for the night. Just in case you didn’t want to go home.”

Dustin thinks about it. He was going to see if he could stay the night here. Be close to Steve. But he might be ok. And by not being here, Steve could worry about just himself for a night. Not Dustin as well.

“Yeah,” he says. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Eventually, Steve and Robin come back inside. Robin nods at Nancy before climbing the stairs up to Steve’s room. Steve and Eddie share a look when they pass. He stops and places a hand on Dustin’s shoulder, pulling him into a hug, before following Robin up the stairs.

Before Eddie can get to his room, Dustin stops him. “I’m going over to Mike’s, call me if anything happens.”

Eddie nods. “I got them, don’t worry.”

“Thank you.”

Nancy waits by the door. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin follow her out to the car. They drive to the house is quiet. Everyone is still reeling from tonight.

Jonathan’s car is parked out on the street when they get there. Will, Max, and Erica coming out with their bags.

“You could stay too, you know,” Nancy says to Jonathan. “No one should be alone tonight.”

“I thought about it, but I think it’s better if I go home.”

Nancy nods, accepting.

“See you around, Nance,” he says before getting back in his car.

“You could stay in the basement with us,” Mike offers, “if you need to.”

Nancy nods again, blinking away the tears in her eyes. Following them inside.

The basement floor is covered in blankets and pillows. Everyone finding a spot to lie down comfortably. Dustin stares at the ceiling, waiting for the tired fall of his eyes. So he can wake up tomorrow and feel better. Feel less like pure dread.

Slowly, he can hear the people around him start to fall asleep. Tomorrow will be better than today, he repeats in his mind. Peaceful sleep taking over.

the notes you guys left on my last post literally made my day, you have no idea. hugs for all of you.

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[overnightheartbeats]

Cloud nine was too low for the blissful feeling she was experiencing as he returned her kiss. Laurel hoped, but didn't expect. Feeling him so close to her, well, it was impossible to melt while in his arms. "Clearly many talents," she agreed breathlessly, happily remaining in the daze he left her when he pulled away. Her knees felt weak, and she couldn't be more thankful for the seat she was on. There was no denying, she had fallen for him. It was a thing, right? Love at first dance? "The baby whisperer," the title made her laugh, picturing him as the ultimate babysitter. "Oh that sounds so cute, watching her grow up. You probably have some really good stories from your babysitting days. I can see why she's so close to you, big brother duties." Laurel rested her chin on her palm, listening to him talk more about Chicago. "I'm sorry to hear that, losing a home is not easy." Optimism wasn't her forte, despite the positivity she was trying to display, so she was familiar with his sentiment. It just saddened her that he didn't feel connected to a home, the sadness only increasing with his comment on his parents. Is that what led him here? "Maybe this place helps you find some hint or some direction to a new home. You still have a long time." After all, they were still so young. So much could happen, right? Wasn't that the world's big promise - adventure and twists/turns to find their place? "I know they'd love to meet you, hm I don't know about those stories though." Still, a resigned sigh followed. "They'll be eager to share the most embarrassing stories about me."

She had called herself an open book, so Laurel meant to deliver, even in the topics she tried avoiding. Her big one? Her family life. It often led to some variation of, that's family, you need to understand. The warmth from his hand soothed the turmoil she began to feel with the topic, like settling a storm that hadn't even begun. It was nice to hear otherwise for a change. "She's just...particular about what she wanted. You see past the dust then?" His reassurance brought a smile to her face, "careful what you wish for, but don't worry. I've been learning to be myself, promise." It helped to be in a new place with her dad, no more nagging in her ear. "You like to learn, and I like a challenge, hm...we'll be a good pair. We will add cooking to the list, finding a new recipe, and hope we don't burn the place down."

She was glad that he agreed, because it was the simple truth. It felt like a cliche to say that from the moment she saw him, but things really had not been the same since she spoke to him. "Good, consider it your new nickname. Pretty green eyes," how easily it flowed. "It could be, don't be surprised if I call you that in the middle of class." Or the middle of campus, that'd be funny. Would it embarrass him though? "You picked one hell of a state then." Not that she was complaining, Laurel probably wouldn't have met him otherwise. "Heatwaves are the standard here, but good to know you get irritable. I'll have to keep you near an a.c. unit."

Her eyes seemed to brighten just a smidge more, filled with excitement. "Really?" Laurel was basically a kid at Christmas. "I'd really like that. You can show me what I've been missing. We should totally plan it!" The thought had momentarily crossed her mind, thinking holiday plans and wanting to make the cabin idea happen for him, just to see him smile. Getting carried away was in her nature. But, him suggesting it? Well, that gave her free rein. "Have you visited any of them, or have a list of top three you'd like to visit? I'd like to spend any day with you, outside or inside. So, sign me up for this nature tour." She nodded without hesitation, confirmation was sitting right in front of her. "Nerdy is hot, absolutely. Sharing," she hummed in thought, even if the answer was already at the tip of her tongue. "No, I'm not a fan of sharing at all. Hope that's okay."

"Tell you what, you come over to my place. Well, my dad's place. We do that cooking lesson, and I can bring those pom poms out of retirement to see if the clap clap cheers stuck." Her voice was laced with amusement, using the words he used earlier. "I'm intrigued to hear these ideas you're thinking of. That would be great, company is really all I want, but I do love fun facts." Taking her hand shouldn't surprise her, but it still sent a light jolt of electricity through her. Laurel loved it though, how things flowed between them with barely any awkwardness. She felt like she had known him for ages, and not just weeks. "Green is a good one, might be becoming my favorite color too. Wow, you know all the good places. Madrid seems like a fun spot, and food..oh my god, probably so good. Me? I have a whole list of places, but top would be Brazil or Japan. Brazil for their carnival, but it also just looks so beautiful." She stepped into his room, offering him a smile as she looked around. "Thank you, I'll be alright." Couldn't get that cold, right? "Okay, I'll be here," she teased, knowing there was no intention to leave.

"Comfy looks good on you." No outside clothes. Well, Laurel was out of luck there. She was not exactly carrying an extra pair of pajamas in her backpack. "Makes sense, I'll just avoid your bed then. And, now I know the outside clothes thing, for future reference."

Eli smiled against her lips as she returned the kiss he had just given. There was no hesitation in reciprocating it. His hand cupped her face and pulled her close as he deepened the kiss for a brief moment. If this was what people called love, he wouldn't mind falling and break every bone in his body. The feeling was euphoric. Or maybe that was just Laurel. A soft chuckle escaped him as he dropped his hand and opened his eyes again to look at her. "I'm a man of many talents." His head nodded in acknowledgement. "They're the best but she's the one I watched grow up. She was the legit baby of the family. I cuddled her at night when she wouldn't settle. I think a big part of why her parents liked me was that I was the baby whisperer." Not only that but Emma understood him. Isa and Inez did too but they were different. Each sibling unlocked a hidden piece of what made Eli him. "You have a lot more hope for Chicago than I do. I think that is a nice sentiment but I think I'm done there. Visiting them is one thing but having a home, not really. That died with the parents." Again, Eli reverted to himself, the nomad having nowhere to call home. "Yes, really," he laughed. "I'd love to meet them. I am kind of curious to hear stories about you."

He felt for her but it wasn't pity. There was a longing there in her voice that told him that her mom wasn't a subject she liked going into but still would be willing to answer the question. Settling his hand over hers he smiled. "Sometimes people don't realize what type of diamond they have. They just see the dust and assume they're not worth much. Just because your mom had a harsher way to treat you doesn't mean you aren't worth it. Don't feel like you need to tone it down for me. I want you to be your unapologetic self." What he wanted her to take away from this was that he'd never make her change into something else to fit a mold she would never fit. "Mhm. I do like to learn. I like to get into something I've never done before. Cooking is one. Maybe we can come up with a new recipe."

An amused smile took over his features. "Fair enough. Drew you in." Lucky for him she even turned her head. "Pretty green eyes. I like it." Truly just because she said it. "Is that going to be your way to get my attention moving forward?" Amusement danced in his eyes as he leaned forward and chuckled thinking of the way everyone with colored eyes would turn if she did scream that out in the courtyard. "Definitely. I can't stand the heat. It makes me irritable. I don't like heatwaves." Now why did he pick Texas for his home would be something he'd never be able to explain but it felt like there was an inexplicable pull drawing him in to the blazing boot of a state.

"We can go together. Why not right? A cabin in the snow seems like we would both enjoy it." His eyebrows furrowed and a laugh was kept at bay as he realized she'd never had a real vacation. "Maybe we can change that. The winter break is coming up so why don't we head down to one of the National Parks and spend a day with nature. If you want to spend a day with me outside. I am a great nature guide." Eli slowly fanned his eyelashes and smirked. "Good to know you think nerdy is hot. Oh, you don't share is that it?"

"I might be trying to test your knowledge. See if any of those clap clap cheers stuck. Now, see that works well. I've got a few ideas on what we could do and since you're pretty confirmed to try something once then this should be easy." His mind had come up with multiple activities they could do and that already brought a smile to his face. "Company I can give. I'll bring at least one or two facts. It seems sad if there isn't something to learn." He took her hand and lead her out. Bag in the other hand and his hand holding one making sure they were locked. "Favorite color? Don't laugh but green. I like the color. It's nice and pretty. Place? Madrid. It is so vibrant. I'd love to go walk down their streets and eat their good food. You?" The shop wasn't too far from his dorm room which he was grateful for since he didn't want to keep walking so long. They reached his building and as he let go of her hand he took out his keys and opened his door for her to enter first. He dropped the bag of food on his desk, a neat pile of books and a laptop sitting on top and closed the door. 'Make yourself comfortable. If you want something to wear like a sweater take your pick. It gets cold here since I open the window. I'll be back."

He went to his closet and grabbed a blue sweater and sweats and his socks. After a five minute absence he came back out, hair outof his face and comfy clothes now on his person. "It's a thing we used to do. We don't sit with outside clothes on the bed."

[rookinthecrownest]

Bedtime Stories For A Demon, Night 4: The Girl & The Glass Slipper (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

Lucanis,

I’ve nearly finished the preparations for Caterina’s funeral. Meet me at the Diamond when you can, I could use your help with a few things.

-Teia  

He doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting on his cot, with the letter in his hands. A part of him thinks if he burns it, it won’t be real. Like Caterina’s death could be carried away with embers on the wind. The paper crumples at the edges under the pressure of his grip, and the throbbing in his head won’t stop.

A year in the Ossuary. A year of torture. Of starvation. Of shutting down to his most base instincts. Of Spite.

Then, a light in the darkness. A tiny prickle of hope settled in his chest that Caterina would be waiting for him at the Dellamorte Estate if Rook could break him out. He started to wonder what she would look like after a year. A few more wrinkles on her brow from constantly scowling at everyone (except Teia)? Was her light grey hair wispier and thinner? Would she lose some of her height to age but still stand taller than anyone else in the room?  

There was no time, then, to dwell on those thoughts. They had much to do before he could escape. What had Rook said back then? A prison break, a blood heist, and an assassination just to get her mage killer?

They quickly fought their way through the prison, destroyed his phylactery, and killed Calivan.

And so, a Tevinter mage, a dwarf, and a possessed assassin had walked out of an underwater prison and into a casino. It was like the start to a bad joke.

Unfortunately, he would never get the answers to those questions. Would never see how much or how little she’d changed during his imprisonment. Lucanis learned his grandmother was dead at the hands of the Venatori soon after arriving at the Cantori Diamond with Rook and the others. He missed seeing Caterina again by hours, maybe minutes. Throwing himself into this job with Rook was the only thing that would keep his thoughts on anything but the lingering guilt, and anger, and frustration. It keeps him preoccupied enough that he doesn’t to deal with the fallout of his own emotions.

Lucanis Dellamorte doesn’t need time, he needs a target.

But there’s no target between now and the funeral. There is only time. And he doesn’t know how to fill that time without Madeleina and her stories.

He doesn’t know when she will return from the Grand Necropolis. If she’ll even return in time for the funeral.

Lucanis leans forward on his forearms and faces an uncomfortable truth.

He doesn’t want to return to Treviso without her.

Not for Caterina’s funeral, at least. He knows himself well enough to realize that going alone would be a recipe for disaster. There won’t be a target to bury his sword in. Nowhere for him to escape his thoughts. Nothing to redirect all that pain and anger somewhere else.

Unless she’s beside him, creating wonders with her mind and magic. Sharing a cup of cioccolata, devouring his desserts. Just being there, with no expectation of anything other than good company and trading stories.

I want. To Talk. To Rook. Spite echoes. He’s practically clawing at the back of Lucanis’ eyes. Want. Rook.

The demon’s howling in his head grows louder. It takes every ounce of hard-won self-discipline, hewn from a childhood of starvation and torture, to put up a wall between the echoes of Spite and the rest of him.

“Enough, Spite” He growls, tossing the letter aside and gripping the sides of his head. He shuts his eyes tight, as if that will keep Lucanis in and Spite out.

Find. Rook. NOW.

He squeezes harder until tresses of raven hair are bunched between his fingers.

Find. Rook. Find. Rook. Find. ROOK.

WHERE. IS. ROOK.

“Mierda! Spite! STOP!”

A flash of pain, a gush of blood from his nose. He grunts and wipes the blood dripping down his nose with the back of his hand. Lucanis is used to Spite’s retaliations but that doesn’t make them any less pleasant to deal with.

His tantrum mirrors the one from their first night at the Lighthouse.

The first night that Madeleina insisted they could find a way to help him. Outright rejected, and even seemed a little angry, at the mere mention of killing him to cure his possession.

He now understood why she staunchly defended him and Spite against those in the group that were wearier of them. Lucanis would have never guessed, not in a million years, that the bubbly and joke-slinging Rook was almost possessed by a demon herself once. And not just any demon, despair. It was one of the strongest variants of demons because it feeds from one of the strongest emotions; the antithesis of hope, that small light in the distance that makes one willing to endure any torture, any hardship, for the promise of something better. Despair was a void, an abyss. So easy to sink into and never return.

She almost sank into that void.

Spite was an unpleasant demon to deal with, downright bratty and vindictive most of the time– but he couldn’t imagine pure despair.

It ate up her life until nothing was left.

As his thoughts turn to Madeleina’s story, Spite, miraculously seems to settle.

Only for a moment, because just now, he hears a soft knock at the door. Normally he would have heard the person before their footfalls even reached his doorstep – would have clocked exactly who it was, too, by the sounds of their footsteps.

Short, brisk steps for Harding. Light skips for Bellara. A soft clink and a confident step for Neve. And sure, even steps for Davrin.

Soft, unhurried, leisurely steps for Rook.

“Hey Lucanis, can I come in?” Comes Madeleina’s soft voice from the other side of the door.

Rook. He can feel Spite’s cheshire grin at the edges of his consciousness.

Although they are of one mind, he doesn’t know what the demon’s infatuation with Rook is. What it means for her. What it could mean for both of them. And that scares him. This tenuous reliance he’s building with her - Spite is an unknown variable in that equation. Until he’s solved it, he’ll do whatever is necessary to keep her safe. Even if that means denying what he may feel for her. That thing he still doesn’t have a name for.

“Come in” He answers, quickly wiping clean the last of the blood before it dries down and he has something to explain to Rook.

The door opens, and in she steps. She’s looking much better than a few days ago when he found her in the music room eating Solas’ ancient cheese.

Why was Solas storing cheese in the music room when he had a pantry?

He refocuses. She’s wearing her casual Shadow Dragon armor – a lilac purple ensemble with a red sash around the middle that does her ample curves every favour.

He stops that train of thought with a hello and a forced smile.

Smells like death stink and mothballs. Not. Right.

“Back from the Necropolis already?” He asks, desperate to ignore Spite, “Did you find Bellara’s Fade expert?”

Rook smiles and rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet. She’s beaming so hard he worries she might fly through the roof.

“We did!” She gushes, “Professor Emmrich Volkarin. He’s quite the character- you can really tell he’s got a passion for what he does. I’ve never heard someone explain sub-astral manifestation so eloquently! And!”

She excitedly holds a finger up, “He has a skeleton assistant!”

Lucanis takes a pause.

“The Necromancer … brought a skeleton with him…”

Madeleina frowns. “Not just any skeleton. This one moves. Of his own accord! And he speaks – well hisses, but sometimes I think I can tell what he’s saying. His name is Manfred and he’s absolutely delightful. I was just having tea with the Professor and Manfred brought me a nice cup of jasmine – that he made himself!”

When he doesn’t share her excitement, she lifts a brow.

“What? You’re not a fan of necromancy?”

Lucanis sighs and folds his arms over his chest. “I’m a large believer that dead things should stay dead. It’s every assassin’s worst nightmare to plan a kill down to the minute, and the target starts walking again”

Madeleina considers his response and shrugs, “I guess that makes sense. I still think it’s incredible though.” Brows drawn together in thought, she puts a thumb under her chin and looks down “I’ll have to pick his brain later about the metaphysical implications of necromancy and how Fade resonance may impact reanimation…”

“Madeleina?”

She snaps her attention to him once more, “Oh… sorry”

Lucanis shakes his head and gives her a light smile. He doesn’t want to linger on how cute she looks when she’s deep in thought. The way her brows scrunch together. Dark, wispy lashes falling over light green eyes. The corners of her soft, full lips pulling down. Ringlets of brown curls falling over her face. No, he won’t linger on that.

“I … wanted to ask you something. If you have a minute”

Madeleina straightens and smiles. “Of course. What’s going on?”

“Teia wants to meet”

She grins, “That hardly sounds like a bad thing.”

Madeleina and Teia, although having met only briefly, had already become fast friends. There’s something in their easygoing nature that attracts everyone to them. They spin people around their light, catching them in their orbits, like planets circling the sun.

“She wants to plan Caterina’s funeral”

Madeleina’s face falls almost instantly, and she looks like she’s about to kick herself for her comment earlier. “Oh …. Right ….”

He hesitates, and silence falls between them. Madeleina still isn’t looking at him.

He sighs, and builds up the courage to ask her what he was going to seek her out for.

“If you don’t mind, I … could use some back up.” He points to his head, “In case Spite gets out of hand”

Her green eyes meet his own. Sometimes he feels like she’s drowning him with her gaze, pulling him in until there is nothing but her.

“Let’s not keep Teia waiting then”

~*~

They meet Teia and Illario on the top floor of the Cantori Diamond.

“Good! You’re here” Teia smiles warmly.

“Thank you for making the arrangements, Teia” He gives a respectful bow of his head. Lucanis knows what Caterina meant to Teia. The old bird always had a soft spot for her. Then again, he’s certain almost everyone did. Even one prickly, and all-too-peculiar Fifth Talon.

She waves him off, “For Caterina? How could I do otherwise?”

Her pretty features fall into an expression of mixed pity and sorrow.

“I’m so sorry Lucanis…” She starts, turning towards him, “This must be such a blow”

Teia then turns to Rook, and flashes her a dazzling smile.

“Rook, thank you for coming with him. I need one Dellamorte to help plan this” She jerks her head to his cousin, standing behind her like a shadow, “This one has been no help at all”

Illario frowns, not even contesting the point. “I’m sorry Teia. This is just … too much right now”

Illario always caves under pressure. Lucanis reigns in the sigh that desperately wants to escape his lips.

Madeleina gives Teia an earnest smile, and puts a hand on her chest, “If there’s anything I can do, just say the word”

Teia’s smile grows even wider at that. “You’re such a dear. I hope these two are paying attention”, she grins at both Lucanis and Illario.

He’s not sure why he says what he says next, but the second the words fly out he wants to pull them back with his hand and shove them into his mouth.

“Teia, don’t flirt with my … colleague”

Teia gives him a knowing smirk, “Jealous?”

He’s going to protest, but she continues before he has a chance. “Fine, to business then. There’s a lot to plan, but first, I need the ashes”

She casts an expectant glance at Illario, who looks caught off guard. Unusual.

“… Ashes…?” He repeats slowly.

Teia puts a hand on her hip and frowns, annoyed. “Maker help us, yes, the ashes! Caterina’s ashes. From the cremation?”

“Oh, yes, of course” Illario gestures and smiles, but there’s something insincere about it – even for him. “I’ll get them to you rightaway”

He can’t stop himself from asking, “Illario … what happened?”

Madeleina tenses next to him. Illario just looks confused.

“What do you mean?”

Mierda. What else could I mean, he thinks, wondering if his cousin is playing dumb on purpose just to piss him off. “Caterina” he answers, barely hiding the aggravation in his voice, “How did the Venatori get to her? When? Where? In the Estate? In the City”

He wants to stop, but he can’t. His mouth is forming words faster than his brain can think them.

“How did they get past our people? What did they use? Poison? Blades? I need to know”

Illario frowns and there’s something almost patronizing in his voice when he speaks next. It frays every nerve in Lucanis’ body. “Cousin. Stop. You can’t dwell on this- it will drive you mad”

“I’m not dwelling” He frowns. Lucanis can hardly believe he even needs to ask for these details. Illario should be offering them up unprompted. “Zara killed the First Talon. I have to know how if I’m going to stop her”

“I told you, I’m handling it” The hard, almost defiant edge in Illario’s voice strikes another nerve. Some deep, raw, primal anger he’s trying hard to pull back from, lest he give Spite more fodder.

There is something off about his cousin, and he can’t quite pinpoint what. Was he really acting unusual, or had he truly changed so drastically in the time he’s been away, that Illario may as well be stranger?

Teia interrupts his thoughts with an exasperated sigh, “Boys, enough of this. We have other things to discuss”

“My apologies, Andarateia. Continue without me. I’ll … get you the ashes” Illario says quickly, seemingly desperate for a reason to excuse himself. He all but takes off down the hallway.

Madeleina clears her throat. Lucanis might have forgotten she was standing next to during that odd exchange with Illario, but there’s a certain steadiness she provides him that makes it impossible to do so.

“How are you holding up, Lucanis?” She asks quietly. He can tell there’s more she wants to say but is keeping it to herself- perhaps to divulge later, or, to simply bury away in her own mind.

“I’ll be fine” He nods, “Better once we kill Zara Renata”

Lucanis jerks his head to the spot where Illario stood just moments before, “It’s him I’m worried about”

Teia folds her arms over her chest, and concedes, “Illario can be a handful sometimes”. She shakes her head and turns in the direction he sprinted off in, “But this … the only time I’ve seen him like this is when we thought Lucanis died”

Her expression morphs into something softer, more teasing. Teia grins, slyly, “You’re worrying, aren’t you. What will people say when they learn the ‘Demon of Vyrantium’ has a big, soft heart”

Madeleina looks like she’s holding back a giggle.

You’re more heart than you give yourself credit for.

Now was not the time for this. Lucanis decides to ignore her comment for his own sanity.

“He’s been careless at times, but never when his own life was on the line. Zara took down the First Talon. Anyone could be next. And my cousin doesn’t want to think about it?”

“You’re right, it’s not like Illario to ignore the knife coming at him …”

Lucanis decides to shift the subject. “What do you need from me for the funeral?”

Teia looks happy for the distraction. She smiles, and motions for the two of them to follow her, “Come” The Seventh Talon says, as she makes for the grand, winding staircase, “I’ll get us some drinks, and we can talk about the arrangements”

~*~

The funeral passes by in a blur.

Madeleina, excited to show off some new spells she’s learned in her short time with the Necromancer, helped set up the decorations for the funeral. She summoned wisps to close all the curtains in the casino – an Antivan tradition thought to keep wayward souls from wandering. The wisps also carted flowers – boughs of deep crimsons, blacks, and purples, to and fro, setting them down gently wherever she commanded.

There are words and prayers from a revered mother of Treviso’s Chantry, from Teia, and a few from him. But none from Illario. He doesn’t know what to make of that but decides to give him the benefit of the doubt. Lucanis is dead for a year, shows up, and now Caterina is gone. He supposed to it would be a lot for anyone to take in.

He and Madeleina have found a quiet hallway after the funeral. Most of the attendants have already filtered out of the casino, a sea of black flooding Treviso’s narrow streets.

Madeleina sits beside him, in that familiar, companionable silence they’ve come to enjoy with each other. She plays with a wisp she’s summoned, smiling as the faint green-blue creature of the Fade makes playful circles around her hand.

“Thank you … for being here today” He says quietly.

Madeleina turns to him and smiles, “No need to thank me. It’s what friends are for”

Friends?

This is the first time she’s ever called them… something. He supposed friend was an apt description. He ignores the how the word makes his heart tug lower into his stomach.

“Goodbye little friend, thank you for your assistance” She whispers to the Wisp, and snaps it out of existence. He feels – well, something, at being referred to in the same manner as this little ball of light from the Fade. He’s not sure it’s a good something.

He doesn’t know how to ask her this. If there’s even a normal way to ask what he wants her to do for him. Oh well.

“Madeleina … will you … will you show her to me?” He hopes he doesn��t have to elaborate.

He wants to see what Caterina looks like through Madeleina’s eyes. How much she had changed, how much she stayed the same since his time in the Ossuary.

His faith in her is not misplaced. Madeleina’s expression softens with understanding.

Smells like roses and incense, Spite remarks quietly.  

Madeleina wordlessly conjures an image, with an elegant flourish of her hand, of Caterina. There is much of her that is the same. That familiar stony expression, that fierce, indominatable look in her narrow eyes. But she has changed, too. There’s a faint glimmer of sorrow he can pick out, even in her illusion. Her frown lines are more prominent. Her hair is a bit shorter, thinner than he remembers. She has more age spots. But her cane, her long leather overcoat- those are still as he recalls them.

He can tell from the look on her face that she’s concentrating hard, likely trying to remember every last detail of Caterina.

For him.

Lucanis releases a soft, pained breath. Almost shuddering. Tears prick at the edges of his eyes, and he bites his tongue to keep them from escaping. He can’t look at her anymore.

When he turns away for a moment, Madeleina waves her hand, and the illusion of Caterina vanishes on the wind.

“Lucanis…?”

Her hand is hovering next to his arm. Not touching, but close enough to feel its warmth, the comfort it provides. “Are you alright?”

Lucanis gives her a sidelong glance and forces his mouth to stretch into a tight smile. “Yes – yes, I’m alright. Thank you”

She’s gotten quite good at picking out his lies. Impressive for someone who’s not a trained assassin. Or perhaps he’s merely let too much of himself be free and unrestrained in front of her, that she’s gleaned all of his tells.

Madeleina is quiet for a moment.

“How about a story?” she pulls her hand away from by his shoulder and rests it on her lap. “One with a happy ending today, maybe”

He chuckles bitterly. A small part of him was hoping she would offer that. He’s asked too much of her already to say it himself.

Alone in a dimly lit hallway, sitting on a bench underneath an alcove. He supposes it’s as good a spot as any. This is as quiet as he’s ever heard the casino. Teia must have closed up shop early after the funeral, because there is no raucous laughter from the gambling halls.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Madeleina turns her body slightly, so she’s facing him. “I think I know just the one”

Lucanis lets himself relax for the first time all day. He lets the tension fall from his jaw, his shoulders, his legs, and simply watches and listens.

“This one comes from Starkhaven” she starts, leaning closer for a conspiratorial whisper “Some say it’s actually the story of King Artesian Vael and Queen Wilhemina Vael from all way back in the Exalted age” Madeleina leans back and shrugs, “More than likely she got tied up in it because he was the first King to marry outside of royalty. It’s called ‘The Girl and the Glass Slipper’”

Lucanis can’t tell whether he enjoys her little history lessons for what they are, or he just likes the sound of her voice. He watches intently as her hands glow blue, and with another flourish, conjures her first image.

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a happy family”

Three figures spring to life, rotating in the space between them. A tall, lanky man, with a kind countenance. A younger woman – beautiful with long, curly hair, and soft features. A little girl, with her mother’s hair, and her father’s gentle eyes.

“Her father was a travelling merchant, and so his work took him away for long stretches of time. But he always brought his girl back something special, just for her”

Madeleina smiles and the family disappears.

A figurine of a delicate porcelain ballet dancer spins in place. Then, it morphs into a hardcover tome – he can’t make out the title, but it looks far too large and complicated for a child’s bedtime storybook. The book becomes a gilded hair brush, before fading into nothing.

The family appears once again, but the mother is on her knees, with the other two standing behind her. The figure coughs several times and doubles over again.

“But her mother was not well. With time, she kept getting sicker and sicker” Madeleina continues, “As she was dying, she said to her daughter ‘Be good, be pious, be courageous – and above of all, be kind. Do this, and the Maker will take care of you where I cannot’”

The woman holds her daughter’s hand in hers, before she scatters into ashes on some invisible wind.

“And the girl was kind” Madeleina continued wistfully. She raised her hand, and the girl changed into a beautiful young woman. “Kind to others, kind to the animals in her care and those that weren’t” She is visited by all manner of wildlife – squirrels, birds, mice, chickens – even deer. The woman hands out food to each of them – big or small.

“In time” Madeleina waves the girl and the animals out of existence, replacing them with the figure of the father and three others. “Her father decides to remarry.”

The other woman has sharp, elegant features. Her thin lips are set in a permanent sneer. Her two daughters appear to share this feature.

“The Vicomtessa and her daughters quickly make themselves at home. At first… they’re cold, but polite”

The woman is seen trying to befriend the two stepdaughters, but they turn their noses up at her and walk away down some invisible corridor.

“One day, her father has to go away on another business trip. He asks the girls what they would like as presents. ‘Fine clothes!’ answers the first sister. ‘Fine jewels!’ exclaims the other.” The two sisters are practically falling over themselves at their imaginary jewels and clothes.

The scene shifts to the young woman and her father next.

“But his daughter thinks for a moment, before answering. ‘Bring me the first twig, father, that your traveller’s cap strikes on your way home. That is what I should like you to bring me.’”

She and her father embrace briefly, before he disappears into the air.

“But he would never return home. He’d fallen ill on the road back from Orlais. One of the servants who travelled with him brought the girl a hazel twig in a small box. ‘What of my jewels!’ cried the first sister, ‘What of my clothes!’ cried the second.”

Then, the stepmother appears behind them and slaps each on the shoulder. It looks so realistic he swears he can hear the sound of her gloved hand striking skin.

“’Quiet you fools – don’t you see we’re ruined’ The stepmother said. And she began consolidating the father’s remaining assets as her own. She releases all of the staff, that she may take the money meant for their upkeep to enrich herself”

The figure of the woman watches as a few faceless servants leave with rucksacks and little wagons of their belongings. The stepmother appears behind her.

“’But madam – ‘The girl starts, ‘How shall we maintain the estate without our people?’”

Lucanis already doesn’t like where this is going.

The stepmother’s figure boasts a wicked smile, sharp enough to cut glass.

“The girl was forced to take on the role of all the servants who left. They took her bedroom so the sisters may keep their dresses, always in the latest fashion from Orlais, stored away there.”

The young woman is now dressed in a tattered, old kirtle. Her long hair is pulled back into a bun, as she sweeps. Then washes the invisible floor. Then hangs the laundry. Then dutifully feeds the animals. But she never frowns. She always smiles and signs while she works.

“The stepmother and stepsisters treat her terribly. But the girl is always kind, as her mother told her to be”

Want to stab. Spite thinks gleefully. Stab. The sisters.

The sisters point and laugh as she does the chores. The stepmother watches with cruel indifference.

“Every night she lies down by hearth, for she has no bed, and wakes with the marks of cinder ash on her face” Madeleina has the figure of the girl curled up by a ghostly fire. “And so, they call her Cinderella – a cruel joke”

“One day, a proclamation from the palace comes. ‘All maidens of marriageable age are invited to attend a ball, in honour of his Royal Highness, Prince Theodore, that he may find a wife. The stepmother and stepsisters waste no time spending what little coin they have left of their dwindling fortunes on the most expensive dresses they could get their hands on”

The stepmother and stepsisters twirl about in puffy, fancy – gaudy, ballgowns, while the girl watches in her rags.

“’But I am also of age’ Cinderella proclaims. The stepsisters laugh,” The figure of the stepmother cuts them off with a hand, and the girls are silent. “’You may go to the ball if you finish your chores. Sweep the kitchen, the parlor, the bedrooms. Then wash the floors. Afterwards, wash, dry, and fold all of the laundry. Mend all the clothes. Feed the animals. Collect the eggs and milk. Clean the stables.’ On and on the stepmother went with an impossibly long list of chores. And it was meant to be impossible, for she would not allow Cinderella to go to the ball”

Madeleina frowns and waves the figures out of existence. She blinks and rubs her eyes.

“Madeleina – what’s wrong?” Lucanis asks quickly, daring to lean closer.

She pinches her cheek, leaving a red welt in place. “Mmm … yeah. I guess I used a lot of magic to help with Caterina’s funeral” Her eyes blink in and out of focus. She slaps her own cheeks a few times to perk up. “It’s easier to keep the illusions up in the Lighthouse since it’s in the Fade. I don’t need to expend as much mana”

“If you’re tired – “

She cuts him off with a dismissive wave. “No, no… I’m fine, I’ll be fine. I just need a moment. The story’s almost done anyway”

Madeleina sucks in a deep breath and exhales. With a clap of her hands, she’s launching back into her story.

“Where was I? Right”

She waves the figure of Cinderella back into existence, who is sweeping an invisible floor.

“Cinderella, although she tries her best, doesn’t finish all of her chores in time for the ball.”

A carriage, led by two decorated chargers, appears next. The stepmother and stepsisters push Cinderella aside as they climb into the carriage. He watches as it speeds away and vanishes into thin air.

The dejected form of Cinderella drops her broom and starts crying silent tears.

“She can’t help but cry. All she has ever been is kind to her stepmother and stepsisters. Why do they treat her so? What did she ever do to them?”

As the girl cries, he sees the hazel twig from earlier in the story reappear in front of her. The twig transforms into a ghostly figure of the girl’s mother. Cinderella looks up.

“But from far away in the Fade, her mother’s spirit hears her cry for help. ‘My child, you have done as I asked. You have been so courageous and so kind. The Maker bade me return to your side. Fear not Cinderella, for you will go to the ball tonight”

The figure of the mother waves her hands in the air and summons a gilded carriage, with two ghostly chargers – eyes glowing white like burning diamonds, to helm it. Her kirtle transforms into a beautiful gown, with rose appliques decorating the skirts. The figure of Cinderella peaks her foot from underneath the ballgown. Her feet are clad in wooden clogs, the inelegant footwear contrasting her incredible gown.

“’But mother, what of my shoes?’ She asks, and the spirit of her mother smiles. ‘I shall give you the finest shoes this Kingdom has ever seen or will ever see!’” And with a wave of her ghostly hand, the clogs transform into iridescent glass slippers. Lucanis leans in closer to inspect them. Madeleina has even managed to create the illusion of prisms of light reflecting off of them.

Will her wonders ever cease?

The mother shoos her daughter into the carriage quickly, “’Go on now! Time runs late – my magic will only hold until the bell tolls midnight! Fly Cinderella and find your happiness!’”

“’Thank you, mother!’ she cries”

He can’t help but smile as Cinderella is spirited away to the ball.

Madeleina conjures the image of a grand ballroom next. A string quartet in one corner. Nobility and commoners alike spinning about the dancefloor.

When the figure of Cinderella appears, the crowd parts immediately. If the figures could speak, he would be hearing shocked gasps and whispers.

“Cinderella arrives at the ball, and the Prince immediately takes notice”

A handsome young man dressed in an elegant doublet makes his way towards the figure of Cinderella, bows low at the waist, and holds out his arm for her. She takes his arm, and they begin spinning about the dance floor in a slow waltz.

“And when they dance together, it’s like there’s no one else in the world” Madeleina snaps her figure, and the rest of the crowd disappears. “The two quickly fall in love. And just as about the Prince is about to ask her name, the first toll of midnight arrives”

The figure of Cinderella parts from the Prince quickly and begins to run away. He chases after her, only stopping to pick up a glass slipper she left behind. “Cinderella runs to the carriage, and has it take her home. Although she only danced with the Prince for a short while, that little memory was beautiful enough to keep her warm for the rest of her life”

The figure of Cinderella is back at the manor, scrubbing the air below her clean, with a smile on her face.

“The stepmother and stepsisters return home, incensed that the Prince’s eye was caught by someone else. They don’t suspect for a moment the mystery princess was Cinderella. For she had nothing in her possession that beautiful – they had made sure of that”

The scene is now of the prince, staring at the glass slipper.

“Try as he might, Prince Theodore couldn’t forget about the mystery woman he danced with. He had to know who she was. He decided he would have every woman in the kingdom try on the glass slipper. He takes his Guard Captain, Ser Arryn, and rides out to find his true love”

The figure of the prince tries time and again, with girls of all shapes and sizes, to fit the slipper to one of them. All for nought.

“Eventually, he arrives at the home of the Vicomtessa, and her daughters eagerly try to make the glass slipper fit their feet. But the older sister’s feet are far too large, and she is too forceful. She breaks the slipper in half”

The older sister looks on in horror as the broken glass slipper lies in her hands. The Prince sinks to his knees, devastated that he’ll never find his true love now”

But the figure of Cinderella appears in the scene a moment later, smiling brightly.

“’Fear not your highness’ she says, ‘For I have its twin’” Madeleina waves her hand and has the figure of Cinderella pull out the other glass slipper. The Prince gently takes it in his hand, drops to one knee, and places it on her foot. A perfect fit.

The two share an embrace.

“Cinderella and the Prince are married. And they lived happily ever after”

Stab. The sisters? Spite asks.

When he doesn’t react to the ending of her story, Madeleina blinks and waves a hand in front of his face.

“Lucanis?”

He shakes his head and comes to. Lucanis grins sheepishly, “Spite wants to know if anyone stabs the stepsisters”

Madeleina makes a face and chuckles, “No Spite. There’s no stabbing in this story”

Not fair. Want to stab.

“What does happen to the stepmother and stepsisters?” He asks, tilting his head in curiosity.

“Ah, good question. There’s a few different variations but the most common one seems to be that they are relegated to working as servants when they lose their own fortune”

“I would’ve poisoned them” He adds, with a satisfied grin.

Madeleina laughs, “Well, when you tell the story, you can add that in”

They share a smile and settle back into silence for a few moments. He watches her blink in and out of consciousness. She’s rocking back and forth unsteadily. Lucanis reaches an arm behind her back – not quite touching her.

“Madeleina?”

“Mmm?” Her vision is bleary and unfocused. She’s facing him, but not looking at him.

“Mierda” He whispers. He knew he shouldn’t have let this go on.

She falls face forward against his right shoulder, unconscious. He would be concerned, if not for her gentle, steady breathing. Nothing dangerous, evidently. Just in dire need of some sleep.

A flush creeps on the back of his neck and his ears.

Her head is resting against his shoulder. The rest of her body is practically limp. Lucanis’ heart is pounding in his chest. So loud he can practically hear the frantic pace.

Quiet snores fill the air. He doesn’t know what to do. He keeps his hands laced together, almost afraid they’ll fly away from him if he doesn’t. To her hair, her cheeks, her lips.

To his surprise, relief, and horror, Andarateia Cantori comes sauntering down the hallway and spies the pair in that compromising position.

Mercifully, she doesn’t say anything but gives him a knowing look that he doesn’t like. He can’t find the strength to meet her warm, brown eyes.

Teia turns to Madeleina and gently nudges her awake.

“Come cariña, I’ll show you to your room for the night, hmm?” She whispers to the woman on his shoulder. Madeleina blinks a few times and rubs her eyes, parting from his shoulder. She’s so tired she doesn’t even realize what’s transpired or where she’s been sleeping. She takes Teia’s hand and lets the elf pull her to a standing position. She’s wobbly, but Teia steadies her with a hand on her back.

The two women start making their way down the hallway, leaving Lucanis alone with his thoughts.

That is, before he sees Viago trail after them.

The other Talon stops to give him a look.

“Shut up Viago” Lucanis mutters, pushing himself by his thighs to stand.

“I didn’t say anything” He replies cooly, but the slight quirk in his lips says more than enough.

“Mierda…”

[spiderman2-99]

✨:guilty-Gabriella

[5.20.2022, TRN-1042]

Gabriella had been… unusually sullen in the car ride after school today. Today was PTA meeting day, and one of the discussions was about some C’s in certain classes. The teacher told Miguel how he could help, that otherwise his daughter was a treat to have in class, etc etc., sometimes kids just struggle with some subjects. Miguel understood just fine, promised that he'd help, reassured that it was just a monetary setback, all that.

But Gabriella had been sulking in the passenger’s seat the whole ride home. At best, she’d give monosyllabic answers to Miguel if he asked anything— a far cry from the usual ball of energy he'd come to know and love over the last couple months.

She curls up a little in the seat, her forehead leaning on the glass of the window, arms crossed. She looks… disappointed in herself. Or apprehensive, maybe? Miguel won’t claim to be emotionally intelligent, as much as he tried to be for Gabriella’s sake. He never had to be until Gabiella. Shock. He still has so much to learn. Too much to learn.

He swallows thickly before finally breaking the heavy silence that descended upon the car ride.

“Gabi,” he begins, his voice gentle yet firm, "something's clearly bothering you. You've been silent since we left school. Is everything okay?"

Well. That was a lame start that, as expected, didn't get an answer beyond a half-hearted shrug. Dios en el cielo. He really doesn't want to pull teeth.

"Is it... about the C’s in your report card?"

The last sentence makes her wince slightly. So that was a yes.

(Miguel can't stop the awful thought of what if the other Miguel yelled at her about grades? He has to physically shake his head slightly to clear it.)

She shifts a moment in her seat. “I know, I’ll study harder…” she murmurs like she’s preparing herself for the gallows.

Miguel lets out a sigh through his nose. He isn't entirely an idiot, he figures it's more than just the report card— or maybe something so pressing that it's causing the slip. The problem is trying to get to it delicately; which is much more difficult than it should be for him. Being... soft, gentle, paternal just doesn't come naturally for him. He never had that sort of role model, and now he's flying blind in a life he stole, at any moment about to ruin it, and the sweet little girl that came with it-

Okay, no, no. Breathe. Get your head on straight, O'Hara. You're better than that.

“It’s not just about the grades, is it?” he urges. “There’s something else bothering you, and I want to know what it is."

He risks a sidelong glance. She has to know he's serious. "I’m here to listen, Gabi. I promise."

“I dunno… it’s kinda dumb, but…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Miguel can see Gabriella sit up straight, hesitating, trying to collect her thoughts. He won’t rush her.

“You’ve been forgetting a lot lately. Like… remember when I told you about Emily’s birthday? I’ve been friends with her forever, but you had to use a GPS to find her house. And sometimes I’ll tell you about something we did a year ago, and I can tell you’re trying to act like you remember but you don’t. And when we visited Abuela, you acted weird around her, like you didn't know her at all.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. His daughter, his beautiful, wonderful, smart daughter, noticed the discrepancies between him and the man he’d replaced; the gaps in his cover. It was only a matter of time before she put the pieces together.

"You've been forgetting events for school, and getting lost in our own city, and when tío Gabriel visited, you couldn't even keep up with the conversation he was making 'cause he was bringing up things you didn't remember..."

Then, Gabriella turns to him and gives him a look with those big, watery hazel eyes that makes him want to throw himself off a cliff. “Did you get hurt at work, Papa?”

...

Well. Maybe a little more time.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his fingers clenching the steering wheel tighter. "No, sweetheart, I didn't hurt myself at work," he reassures, but the lie tastes bitter on his tongue. "It's just..."

“Something complicated again?” She interjects, going back to looking out the window.

Miguel grumbles in frustration. He should’ve realized his daughter would be just as much of a smart-ass as him. "Yes, mija, it's something complicated. But I promise, I'm handling it."

'Complicated' is an understatement. It’s a whole paradox, a breach in reality, a cosmic crime against nature. He hates not being honest with her, but how the hell is he supposed to say ‘your real father is dead and I replaced him’?

God, he's a coward.

Miguel would give everything, anything, to make sure she’s okay through all of this. But the more time passed, the more he knew he didn’t deserve to be her father. He isn't her papa. He could never be.

"It’s nothing you need to worry about, okay?” he continues through the lump in his throat. “It’s something... something only adults have to deal with.”

"Everyone always says that; it's always something 'only adults deal about'," she retorts, glowering at her father. "It's affecting me too, but anytime I ask—"

"I can't tell you, okay?" he snaps, his voice strained; the tension rising between them as foreboding as storm clouds in the horizon. He has to take a deep breath before he continues, forcing a calmness in his voice. "I can't. Please, you have to trust me. It’s- it's for your own good, mija."

"And that's another thing they tell me; it's aaaalways 'for my own good'-"

"Gabi..."

"-but how can I trust you when you don't trust me, huh?"

"Gabi."

"When you're acting all weird and not telling me anything anymore and-"

"Gabriella Angela O'Hara."

She winces and shrinks back into her seat. Christ in Heaven, this is going all wrong, and it feels like all Miguel can do is watch it happen.

"You think I don’t want to tell you?" He continues, grinding his jaw to keep the rising anger out of his voice. The last thing she needs is his anger. He can't act like George O'Hara. "You think I want to keep you in the dark? Do you think I like hiding things from you? I’m doing this to protect you, because..."

Miguel's words trail off. He can’t say ‘because I’m not your real father.’

Baffled, hurt, she presses on. "Because what? You- you think I'm too stupid or something? I can't handle it?"

Christ, isn't that a wonderful, ice cold jolt to his already frayed nerves? "No! No, it's not that! You're not stupid, you're the most brilliant, amazing child I've ever met."

He swallows hard. The lump in his throat feels like a brick.

"It’s not that I think you can’t handle it, it's that you're still just a kid! And you shouldn't have to handle it!"

Gabi lets out a long groan, slumping her head against the headrest, but seems to drop the subject.

Momentarily.

Long enough to lull Miguel into a false sense of security. Long enough for him to pull in their driveway before he hears--

"Still get to feel it all go to shit though," grumbled under her breath; only audible due to Miguel's enhanced hearing.

He kills the engine and just... sits there a moment; the silence thick and oppressive, thoroughly killing any semblance of energy he had left. The language suddenly doesn't even feel worth reprimanding.

Slowly, he turns to look at her. His daughter. His sweet, beautiful, brilliant baby girl. The only thing left in the world that is truly good.

I'm ruining her.

Then again, he ruined her the second he inserted himself into a life that wasn't his. He should've known this charade would blow up in his face. God knows he can never have anything nice without having to fight for it; tearing into it with his teeth and shocking it all up from his own desperation.

When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, pained.

"Gabi," he begins, his tone heavy with a mix of guilt and frustration. "I... I'm doing the best I can. I'm trying."

She doesn't even look at him. "Not trying good enough."

Shocking hell. Out of all the things she could inherit from her father, did it have to be his bull-headedness and the ability to cut where it hurts? It's bad enough on him, but when it's someone else? When it's the truth?

He has to fight the urge to snap back, to say something he’ll regret, to prove his own inadequacy correct. Instead, he closes his eyes and takes a breath in an attempt to collect himself.

Operating word being 'attempt'.

Bile still leaks into Miguel's voice as he grates out, "Get out and go to your room."

"What-" So now she decides to spare me a glance.

"Get out," he repeats, low and deliberate, "and go to your room. I don't- I can't be with you right now."

The pause that follows as his words sink in isn't just pregnant; it's straight-up post-due with a necrotic placenta and a calcified fetus.

The words are already out; no taking back even if he felt they deserved to be. Gabriella's expression morphs from horrified to disgusted to a sort of passive anger.

Finally, the silence is broken by the sound of her seatbelt clicking. Then, "fine. I don't wanna be with you either," followed by the car door slamming.

There's no parting barb, no further vitriol thrown at him. Maybe there should've been; there'd at least be some sort of outlet for Miguel to let out his metric shitton of pent-up frustration and sheer, utter rage. They'd both deserve it then.

But there is nothing.

Just a broken, run-down, irreparably shocked up man trying to pretend to be a father; the role fitting him as good as if he'd skinned his alternate's face and wore it on top of his own. Why did he bother? Gabriella doesn't deserve her life being ruined by a genetic abomination from another world deluding himself to be something capable of loving.

He slumps his head against the steering wheel and screams.

[dngrs-untld-hrshps-unnmbrd]

Graven Hearts

After being unofficially banished from the Mourn Watch, rebellious Lisbette must recruit one of her former professors, Emmrich Volkarin, to help her defeat two ancient Elvhen gods. Hurt that her favourite professor never stood up for her when she needed him, Lisbette takes delight in provoking the handsome, silver-haired necromancer, perhaps enjoying herself a little too much.

Female Rook | Age Difference | Daddy vibes | low key bratting | Hurt/Comfort | Eventual Smut

Chapter One

The Lighthouse is a sheer delight to Emmrich. The rooms given to him seem to shape themselves around him to his ideals and tastes without him needing to ask. He and Manfredd spend a happy afternoon putting all his things away, and Emmrich makes mental plans for how he may help this charming group of people. They are facing two ancient Elvhen gods, and the task before them is forbiddable. 

Manfredd goes out to explore the lighthouse, and Emmrich sits behind his desk to write letters to his colleagues in the Mourn Watch. How does one post letters in a place like this? He supposed he’d figure it out. 

There’s a soft knock on his door, but before he can call out for the person to enter, the door opens, and Lisbette appears. 

He smiles at her, and opens his mouth to say, “It’s wonderful seeing an old student doing so well,” but the expression on her face makes the words turn to bone dust in his mouth. She’s smiling at him, but it’s a hard, fixed smile, very unlike the friendly welcome he received at the Necropolis. 

But now he thinks of it, Bellara was the one doing most of the talking. Lisbette was merely polite.

Without a word to him, Lisbette takes a long, slow walk around the room. She’s wearing comfortable off-duty clothes, a pale shirt tucked into high-waisted pants. The ensemble is nothing special, but she somehow looks lovely in them. Her masses of curly red hair is down past her waist, and the freckles on her face and glassy green shards in her eyes catch the sunshine.

Lisbette pokes at a skull on a shelf. Examines a bottle. Her attitude is irritatingly overfamiliar, as though she feels she has a right to both examine his things and ignore his presence. She was never rude to him during her student days. Lisbette had been rebellious and provocative on paper occasionally, but in his classes, tutorials, and private meetings in his office, she’d always behaved with manners and respect. 

Emmrich sits back in his high-backed chair and watches her with what he thinks of as his chilliest gaze. Though her student days are over and her relationship with him is quite different, he still expects manners and respect.  

Finally, she saunters over to him, though she still doesn’t look at him. Her fingertips trail across the surface of his desk. “ Coming in here reminds me of being called into your office, professor.”

“How so?”

“I can feel waves and waves of your disapproval, just like the old days.”

“What do you believe I disapprove of?”

Lisbette laughs softly. “Always a teacher, aren’t you?”

“Lisbette. If you don’t want me here...”

“I need you here,” she says with a careless shrug, and perches on the edge of his desk. 

Emmrich opens his mouth to tell her not to sit on his desk, but then closes it again. She wants to provoke him, and he feels certain that he mustn’t be provoked. He supposes she wishes she didn’t need him. Needing someone from the Mourn Watch upsets her after she was unofficially banished from the faction. He feels nothing in particular about that. He wasn’t there when the decision was made, and it’s good for a young person to learn that their actions have consequences.

“You have gathered together quite a team,” he tells her, hoping to change the subject to a topic they can both enjoy. 

“Yes, they’re like family. It’s good to have family around me again.”

Family?

He feels his heart sink. 

Lisbette was found abandoned as a baby in the Necropolis. Like him, the Mourn Watch raised her, and just as it does to him, the Mourn Watch means family. Home. Love. 

Or it did until they banished her.

How would he have felt if the only family he’d ever known shut him out and told him to leave? Has she had one kind word or letter from anyone at the Mourn Watch in the year since?

But Lisbette has landed on her feet, he reasoned. She’s a talented young mage and she’s navigating these unfamiliar waters with confidence and apparent ease. 

All the same, him being here hurts her. Angers her. She doesn’t want anything from the Mourn Watch, but she has no choice. 

He can find a way to win her over, surely.  

In a kinder tone, he begins, “Lisbette, what happened a year ago...”

She scoots around his desk toward him, and then reaches for a book on the far side of his desk. Doing so, she splays herself across his lap in a bewildering manner. His fingers flex on the arms of his chair as he stares down at her. 

Lisbette sits up and pushes her red curls out of her face with a breathless smile. “ Alvarus’ Treatise on the Undead . I’ve always wanted to get my hands on this.”

There’s better light from the window if she’s facing the other way, and she perches on the arm of his chair. Emmrich finds himself with his arm around her, but pulled back as far as he can so as not to touch her inadvertently. She wriggles back, closer to him, making that task difficult for him.  

“ Lisbette, there are chairs for both of us.”

As she turns the pages, she slides further from the arm of the chair until she’s half sitting in his lap. “I’m fine here, professor.”

“Lisbette.”

“Hm?”

“ Lisbette .”

She looks up at him with a dazzling smile, her face just inches from his. “You’re handsome when you’re annoyed.”

“I know what you’re doing. You dislike that you need help from me. You’re provoking me because you’re angry with me. If we could have a mature conversation...”

She blinks innocent eyes at him. “Don’t be silly, professor. I’m provoking you because it’s amusing me.”

Slowly, she sinks even further into his lap. Her bottom feels soft against his bony thighs and very warm. Lisbette rests against his chest, licks her fingertip, and turns a page of the book. 

He grits his teeth. If she won’t speak seriously, he will. “I will speak with the Mourn Watch. You’ve been punished long enough and you should be allowed to return to the order .”

The smile fades from Lisbette’s lips. She reaches up and touches the silver strands of his hair, and then combs her fingers through the locks. Her touch feels surprisingly sweet. 

Then she boops his nose with her forefinger. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve had better adventures since being told to leave, and now I have a Mourn Watch professor all to myself. He’s going to help me save the world.”

He gazes at her, feeling unimpressed by her arch tone and the way she’s touching him. She might be their leader, but he was not her pet.

“How may I be of service?” he asks icily.

She muses on this for a moment. “Do you have any advice for me, professor?”

“Your spells were ragged today. Your staff work was sloppy, and your incantations poorly aimed.”

“You called out Beautifully done, Lisbette at least three times.”

He had, hadn’t he. He was delighted to be invited onto the team, and he’d been impressed and inspired by the leadership his former student had shown. The way she smiled at everyone. Her warm confidence. He’d congratulated himself that he’d been responsible in part for the young woman she’d become, the old fool. 

Emmrich clears his throat. “I must encourage as well as correct.”

She tilts her head teasingly toward his. “Ah, so you encourage me in public and correct me in private?”

“You’re trying to provoke me, young lady.”

Lisbette reaches up and ruffles his silver hair. “I am provoking you. Thank you for the book.” 

She snaps the volume closed, gets up from his lap, and saunters out of his room with an maddeningly hypnotizing sway of her hips. 

Emmrich opens and closes his mouth. Too late, he thinks of something to call after her. “Lisbette! I was reading that book.”

But the door closes behind her, and he thinks he hears her laughter in the corridor. 

__

Oh, Lisbette and Emmrich, you're both in so much trouble. Not the same bit of trouble, but definitely a lot of it, and together. Thank you for reading!

CHAPTER TWO

[shuaboo]

🍓 you know how to ball, i know aristotle.

🧺 a kim jiwoong x reader one-shot fic // lowercase intended // cw: fluff, high school au, popular boy!jiwoong, nerd!reader, jiwoong is blonde, reader is awkward n gets flustered a lot, bestie!hao appearances, haobin is canon here #notsorry, jw’s ex is mentioned but they doesn’t make an appearance // wc: 4.2k // not proofread, sry for any mistakes

💋 a/n: (1) wrote a high school au because why not… duh. lots of weird POV changes here sorry! hope that isn’t too bothersome. (2) WELCOME TO THE POPULAR BF!JIWOONG SERIES!! (3) this will be a little series of oneshots/thoughts abt popular bf!jw, so it’s not js one big story. I’ll make an mlist soon

in school, you aren’t popular. infact, you’re far from it. other than your friends and fellow council members, no one pays attention to you unless its for school reasons. but you are an exceptional student. you are always participating in quiz bees, math competitions, and even a part of the student council. all this means that you constantly have to work your ass off to maintain your good grades.

at home, your parents have set high standards for you. be smart, be presentable. be kind, be obedient. you have competitive relatives, and you know how they can get.

what you didn’t expect though, was to ever get in a relationship. you were far too deep into your school activities so you can get into a good college, so you felt like you had no time to be interested in boys. besides, you didn’t even expect anyone to be into you.

here’s kim jiwoong: popular senior, star player of your school’s football team, decent student, and campus crush.

what could possibly bring you, a student seen as nerdy and unpopular, and kim jiwoong, the popular quarterback of the school’s football team together?

i. first meetings, tutoring sessions, blooming friendships.

you first officially met jiwoong because of a tutoring gig your teacher assigned you to do. you had to help jiwoong with physics, a subject you excel in. jiwoong isn’t a bad student. despite his busy schedule as an athlete, he had no grades lower than a B. except for physics.

your physics teacher recognized his struggle with the subject, and appointed you to help him.

you can’t lie, you were nervous. like— palms sweating, cold sweating nervous. jiwoong isn’t a mean guy, infact, he’s quite nice if you get to know him (that is, according to your best friend hao’s boyfriend hanbin, who is his fellow football teammate). his popularity in the school, and his reputation intimidated you.

when he arrived, you were taken aback. you really had nothing to be nervous for. jiwoong turned out to be a pretty chill guy. he’s nice, understanding, and fast-adjusting.

“hi, you must be y/n? i’m jiwoong. i’m the student mr. song appointed for you to tutor. sorry for being late, i was held back at practice. i hope you didn’t wait long.” jiwoong says as he places his bag on the library desk. “oh— yes, that’s me. hi, jiwoong. and don’t worry about it, coach yoon told me.” you say as you pull back a chair for him to sit on. he sits on the seat beside you, and waits as you pull out your notes, a pen, and pad paper.

“let’s start. what topics are you currently steuggling with?” you ask, looking at him after asking but quickly looking down at your notes again when you see that he’s looking at you. you don’t see it, but jiwoong smiles. ‘cute.’ he thinks. jiwoong tells you about the topic he is having trouble understanding, and you nod. you browse through your notebook and find the topic. when you find it, you lean closer to him and explain to him the concept.

a few sessions later

tutoring jiwoong has been going well. his understanding of physics has improved, and the sessions have also become an opening for a friendship between you two. because of these sessions, you found that jiwoongs intimidating aura isn’t real. he’s actually.. pretty cute. he’d slightly whine when he doesn’t get what you’re explaining, pouts when he gets an answer wrong, and quietly cheers when he gets something right. jeez. talk about a facade.

it is also because of these sessions that you have started encouraging each other even outside of the library. small waves when you see each other, smiles when you’re too far to interact, and sometimes even walking together before going your separate ways.

ii. results and gratitude

it has been awhile since your midterm exams, and your last physics tutor session with jiwoong. when results came out, jiwoong got an 87%. a significant increase from his original 69% (his team thought it was hilarious, but coach yoon thought otherwise). when he received his result, he was acknowledged by mr. yoon for his improvement. he ran to you and showed you his score, repeatedly expressing his gratitude to you for helping him. you could only blush and wave your hands.

“ah it’s really no problem. i’m so glad that my tutoring was effective! that’s an outstanding increase in results. i’m happy for you, jiwoong.” you softly smiled at him, and he smiled back.

“i couldn’t have done it without you. you’re a great teacher, you were so patient with me and very concise. i don’t think anyone else is more fit for the job than you. thank you, seriously.” he pauses, and puts his hand on your shoulder. “would you mind getting coffee with me at the new cafe close to the school this weekend? uh, just as a thanks for tutoring me and all.”

you’re stunned. your brain short circuits for a second and you don’t respond. “uh.. y/n? are you there? it’s okay if you don’t want to, i understand if you’re busy—“ “no! no, it’s fine. i’ll come. ill see ya there.” you quickly answer him, blushing from his sudden offer and embarrassment.

jiwoong grins and nods. “great. let’s meet there at around 4pm. see ya!” he winks before turning around to go back to his friends, who are all looking at him suspiciously.

jiwoong has grown to take a liking for you. as a friend, of course. he didn’t know you that well before you were appointed to tutor him, but he’d seen you around. he never talked to you though.

some of his friends thought you were weird. always so absorbed in your studies, and busy with your school orgs. he felt indifferent about you, after all, he didn’t know you personally.

jiwoong walked back to his friends, who were giving him a suspicious look.

“what was that? you know her?” asks gyuvin. “y/n’s the one who tutored jiwoong. i know her too because she’s a close friend of hao.” answers hanbin, who receives a nod of agreement from jiwoong.

“yeah, she helped me a lot. i got an 87% on the physics test thanks to her.” he pauses before continuing. “i’m taking her out for some coffee this saturday, as a thanks for her help.”

“ooh, look at star player kim jiwoong scoring a date with little nerd girl~ here i thought he’d go for a cheerleader.” one of the players tease. jiwoong rolls his eyes “shut up. she’s just a friend.”

matthew wiggles his brows “sure, just a friend. we’ll see.” jiwoong groans at their teasing and to his relief, the next teacher comes and tells them to settle down.

iii. unexpected offers

after their meetup over coffee, y/n and jiwoong have gotten closer. this doesn’t go unnoticed by jiwoongs friends, y/n’s best friends hao and taerae, and of course, the girls who have a crush on jiwoong.

zhang hao and y/n are walking around the hallway together, on their way to the cafeteria. when suddenly, jiwoong pops up in front of them.

“hi! hao, you’re watching the game this friday, right?” jiwoong asks him, leaving hao a bit confused. “yeah.. i am. of course, hanbin’s playing. why?” jiwoong lights up at his answer and turns to you. “great! does that mean you’re coming to watch too, y/n?” he looks at the girl, eagerly anticipating her answer.

the way jiwoongs eyes sparkle with eagerness, and the way his hands clasp together as if he’s a girl confessing to her crush doesn’t go unnoticed by hao.

“ah.. i’m really sorry jiwoong, but i’m not.” the girl sheepishly tells jiwoong, who now looks disappointed. “aw, come on. you should watch! don’t you want to support me? we’re friends right? i’ll even give you my jersey to wear at the game!” he tries to convince her with a grin.

hao raises his brows in suspicion, but doesn’t say anything and looks at y/n. safe to say, she’s flustered. so flustered. her cheeks and ears are red, and she’s fidgeting with her hands. she pauses for a bit, but she manages to calm down and answer jiwoong.

“i-i’ll try. uh, i’ll just— let you know, okay? i’ll text you. also, if i do end up going, you really don’t need to give me your jersey.” she manages to quickly stutter out, and gave him a quick smile.

“okay. tell me, alright? i’ll be sad if you don’t. anyway, i have to go. see you guys around. hopefully at the game too.” jiwoong smiles at both of them and turns to y/n when he said the last sentence, winking at her.

both hao and y/n just nod at him and watch him leave, then they finally reach the cafeteria.

y/n and hao are now eating, when hanbin decides to join them and sits beside hao. hao decides to brings up the conversation they had with jiwoong earlier, and asks y/n a question. “so, jiwoong huh? when were you guys so close?” she takes a sip of water before answering him. “not close. we just happen to see each other more often than not. we got along pretty well when we had tutor sessions. i guess we just don’t want that to go away.” hao hums in response and asks her again “really? not close? he’s literally begging for you to watch the game, and offering for you to wear his jersey.”

y/n sighs and shakes her head. “that’s probably nothing. i bet he’s offered his jersey to other girls and asked them to go to his games.” hao looks at hanbin for confirmation and to their surprise, he shakes his head too.

“nope. jiwoong has asked people to watch his game, yes. but jiwoong has never offered anyone— boy or girl, to wear his jersey.” hanbin’s response brings a smirk to hao’s face, and a look of confusion on y/n’s. hao proceeds to tease the girl. “oh, that must mean you’re special.” hanbin joins hao in the teasing. “mhm, must be. i never gave out my jersey to anyone except hao, you know? and he’s my boyfriend.”

the girl blushes and glares at them, telling them to stop.

back at home

y/n lays on her bed, confused. why did jiwoong ask her to watch the game? if what hanbin said was true, then why her? why her and not a different girl? does he want her to go as a friend? or something more?

questions fill up the girls head, while she tries to make a decision. all the questions just confuse her even more, so she decides to message the person she trusts most with decisions: hao.

[hao & y/n’s chat]

y/n: hey, wyd?

hao: HEY

hao: not doing much, i was gonna call bin tho.

hao: need anything?

y/n yeah, actually.

y/n: do you think jiwoong wants me to go to his game like… as a friend only or..? (message undone)

y/n: should i go to the game on friday?

hao: idk do u wanna go

y/n: i mean.. i have no plans

hao: OH… then yeah fs u shuld go girl 😭 uve not seen a game in awhile.

y/n: yeah, ive just been so busy 😭. i think i’ll go.

hao: YAY omg i cant w8 to see u girl lets get ready tgt 😍!!!!

hao: btw, why’d you ask?

y/n: LMFAO YEAH okay come over. also i asked bc i told jiwoong i’d text if i was going or not.

hao: when she keeps you updated 😛🙈💕 #greenflag #myqueen

y/n: get help

hao: 😘

seen

y/n laughs at his teasing and closes their chat, choosing to tell jiwoong that he’d be seeing her at the game. before she could, jiwoong already chatted her.

[jiwoong & y/n’s chat]

jiwoong: hey y/n! :)

y/n: hi jiwoong, i was actually abt to msg u haha

jiwoong: oh, why? did yu need anything?

y/n: no, i actually wanted to tell u that i’m going to watch your game:).

jiwoong reacted !! to your message

jiwoong: omg that’s great. i was gonna ask if u made a decision, that’s why i texted. i’m glad ur coming. thank you.

y/n: of course!!

jiwoong: i’ll give u my jersey tomorrow. wear it, okay? 😊

y/n: OH uh u don’t need to do that, i have school colors!

jiwoong: nah, i insist. how will i win the game if my lucky charm isn’t in full luck gear? 😉🙃

y/n: … what the heck

jiwoong: hahaha see uuu~~~ 👍🏻😼

seen

y/n closed her phone, and stared up at the ceiling. jiwoong is bringing his jersey tomorrow to give it to her. even crazier, he called her his lucky charm. and he wants her to wear his jersey. at the game. gosh, her heart is beating so fast. she feels like she’s dreaming.

the next day

y/n enters the classroom, and heads to her seat buf stops when she sees a commotion. at first, shes confused. but she quickly realizes that the commotion is happening around her desk.

‘huh? why is everyone around my desk? did the teacher release another exam paper? did i fail? what’s going on?’ these thoughts fill her head as she approaches her table.

she pushes past the people and sees jiwoong. he’s waiting for her and is holding his jersey. “hey y/n! i have the jersey. make sure you wear it okay?” jiwoong grins as he hands the jersey over to her, and pats her shoulder.

“u-uh yeah, okay. sure! t-thanks, jiwoong.” she smiled back at him and sits on her desk.

finally, people spread out and leave her desk, but now they’re all talking.

who is she? is she jiwoongs girlfriend?

i tried for years to get jiwoongs attention, ahh she’s so lucky, i wish he gave me his jersey too.

what will jinsu think? she’s his ex.. right? isn’t she like still not over him?

that’s right!! oh my gosh, she really needs to wake up and move on.

and so much more…

iv. game day: phone calls

today is friday, which is the date of the game. y/n and hao are getting ready at the girls house, so they can go to the game together. as they are chatting about whatever, y/n hears her phone ring.

she picks up the phone and to her surprise, she sees jiwoong’s contact. hao sees her surprised expression, and looks over to her phone as well. he grins when he sees the contact and urges her to pick up. and with a sigh, she accepts.

what she didn’t expect, is to see jiwoong all sweaty from practice, his blonde hair wet and sweaty above his face, the shirt he’s wearing sticking to his skin. her face heats up from the sight, not expecting him to call her when he’s in such a condition.

“hey y/n! i just finished practice, but i wanted to check in. sorry if i bothered you, are you getting ready?” the girl doesn’t respond, so jiwoong calls out for her again. this time, hao smacks the girls back to get her attention. “oh, uh- hi yes, sorry. what was that?” jiwoong chuckles at her flustered state, “i asked if you were getting ready, silly girl. what’s got you distracted?” jiwoong decides to tease her by fixing the angle of his phone to show more of his body.

her face gets redder than before, going up to her ears. “uhm, yeah. i’m with hao right now and- and uh, we’re getting ready so we can go to the game together.” she puts hao in the frame, the boy waves to jiwoong and asks him where hanbin is. “oh, hanbin’s talking to someone but i think i can call him over. hanbin come here! i’m calling y/n and she’s with hao!” “i’m coming!” y/n giggles at hanbins quick response. unbeknownst to her, jiwoong is looking at her with the most intense love filled gaze that screams “dear god if i can’t have this girl then don’t give me anyone else at all.”

“hi babe, hi y/n! when are you two coming?” hanbin asks the two and hao answers “we’re about to leave, we were almost done when jiwoong called.” the girl nods in agreement and smiles when she sees jiwoong looking at her. “okay! we’ll have gyuvin wait for you guys so you can sit close to the bench.” gyuvin, from a distance yells out “why me!?” which makes the four of them laugh. jiwoong speaks up and says “it’s fine, it’ll be quick. i’ll take them, is that okay?” “yeah.” says y/n. “okay! i have to go now. i can’t wait to see you!” “likewise. good luck, jiwoong.” she says and hangs up the phone.

“oh girl he wants you.” “shut up hao let’s get moving.” the girl says and pulls hao, which makes him laugh.

v. game day: finally, we’re here!

hao and y/n arrived to the field, and she already messaged jiwoong when they were close to let him know he should come out. he calls out for them and they turn their head to see jiwoong and hanbin.

hao gives hanbin a side hug and asks “i thought it’d just be jiwoong? what changed your mind?” hanbin whispers something into hao’s ear, making him laugh. they both look at y/n and jiwoong and told them they’d get going first. the pair gives them a nod as they follow shortly after the couple.

“so, you decided to wear my jersey after all, huh?” jiwoong asks y/n as he looks down at the girl, smirking. the sudden question surprises her, and she blushes. “of course i did, you gave it to me. i wouldn’t want you to play without having all the luck on your side now would i?” now it’s jiwoong’s turn to get flustered. “y-yeah. wouldn’t want to lose this game..” she laughs at his answer as they arrive at the bleachers.

jiwoong grabs y/n’s hand and leads her to the spots that are closest to the team’s bench. when they reach the spot where hao is, jiwoong lets the girl sit beside him. “sit here. you’ll be able to see me better.” y/n nods at his words, and he smiles before leaving to be with the team.

“if you’re just friends… then what was that?” hao asks the girl, who is still looking at her hand. “uh.. i don’t know. im sure he just grabbed my hand so i could get to you safely.” the girl tries deny what hao is trying to imply, but he’s not having it. “girl you know damn well that was more than just that—“ “shh, game is about to start.”

the stadium is now filled with students, both from the home school and the rival school’s. both teams are on the field and the match is about to start. y/b sees hanbin waving at hao, and beside him is jiwoong. jiwoong is looking at her, his lucky charm. he waves at y/n when she finally sees him. the girl wave back and puts her fist up, mouthing a ‘good luck’ to him. he puts his hand on his chest, a sign that tells her he appreciates her words before focusing again.

the referee blows the whistle and both teams get moving. the ball is being kicked high up in the air, rushing down the field to the receiving team. players rush forward with as much energy as they can use.

y/n sees so many players on the field. all of them running around the field, but her eyes and her mind are focused on one player: kim jiwoong. she looks at the quarterback who shouts out signals to his teammates, as if he’s the only player on the field. she unconsciously finds herself doing this, but of course it doesn’t go unnoticed by her best friend who is right beside her.

time is ticking, stakes are high, and the intensity of the match only gets better as the schools team is about to win. every student from your side is cheering and roaring for victory. while the rivals are holing onto a miracle for a win. sounds of whistles and yells of excitement are filling the air, as the final kick goes in.

the game ends, and every student from ZB-ONE high stands up and erupts into cheers. the players of the team roar in victory and run around the field, and y/n can’t help but smile at seeing jiwoong be so happy. despite knowing the boy for only a few months, she is ecstatic to see him erupt in happiness doing what he loves.

y/n and jiwoong make eye contact, and she shouts a “congratulations!” to the boy. he smiles, and starts running towards her. “y/n! thank you so much. i really appreciate you being here. i guess having you as my good luck charm really is true, huh?” he says as he grins and holds her hand yet again. she grins back and intertwines her fingers with his, gaining some confidence. “oh stop, it was not just my luck. you did so good out there, you know? i seriously couldn’t keep my eyes off you.”

realizing what she said, the girl starts blushing when she sees jiwoong raise an eyebrow and smirk. “i- i mean- uh, you did good so it was natural i’d have my eyes on you-“ she tries to explain herself, but jiwoong only grins harder and does something that she didn’t expect him to do.

he pulls her by the waist and pulls her close to him. he gently grabs her chin so she’s looking up at him, and tucks her hair behind her ear.

neither of them could see the stares from other students, the looks of jealousy from the girls who wish that was them instead, the shocked look from hao and hanbin, none of them.

they couldn’t hear the gasps from people around them reacting to their sudden share of affection. they couldn’t hear gyuvin cheering for jiwoong. they couldn’t hear the cheers from students who are still ecstatic about the game.

to them, it felt like it was just the two of them in that stadium. just jiwoong and y/n, in their own world.

“y/n..” jiwoong starts, “how would you feel about going out to dinner with me tonight, and then going on a date with me this sunday? then maybe after that, you can be my lucky charm forever..” he tells the girl with a smile, and she smiles back at him. “of course, jiwoong. i would love to.”

jiwoong can’t contain his happiness, so he pulls her in for a tight hug, picks her up, and spins her around. the girl could only laugh at his excitement and hugs him back. the adrenaline rush coming from jiwoong winning an important game, to him scoring a date with the girl of his dreams. who could blame him?

finally, he puts her down and he squeezes her hand before he has to walk away and clean up. she walks back to hao and sees him already looking at her.

“so.. what was that all about? what happened?” hao asks the girl, who still hasn’t stopped smiling. “he asked me out. tell hanbin the team won’t be seeing him for dinner tonight, because he’s celebrating the win with me.” she pauses, thinking of where he’s taking her and having dinner with him. “he’s taking me out on a date again this sunday as well. i don’t know where he’s going to take me yet, though.”

hao claps his hands when she tells him the details. “girl i told you he wasn’t just being nice! you were just way too blind to see that he’s into you. i swear, i’m a genius.” she laughs at him, and they continue to talk about the game.

as they were deep into the conversation, y/n feels someones head places on her shoulder. she turns to see jiwoong, who is now wearing a basic white shirt, jeans, and his football varsity jacket. “hi, jiwoong. should we get going?” jiwoong nods and puts his arm around her shoulder. they both bid hao a goodbye, and they walk to jiwoong’s car.

“you know, i still can’t believe it.” jiwoong starts. she looks at him confused “believe what?” “that if i wasn’t so stupid at physics, i probably wouldn’t have had the chance to meet someone as amazing as you. then, we probably would never have talked to each other.” she looks at him with sparkles in her eyes, happily nodding in agreement. jiwoong pulls her closer, and kisses the top of her head.”

“i can’t wait for our date, and for all the dates that will come after it. i’m happy i’m celebrating this win with my pretty nerdy tutor.”

“likewise, mr. star player quarterback.”

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

Forget-Pope Heyward

Wearning: +18,smut, english is not my first language.

As you are at the Pogues' shelter, you notice immediately that Pope is sitting on the sidelines, staring into space. Not the usual Pope, always ready to joke or make jokes with others. There is something different about him, a shadow you have never seen before. You decide to come closer, sitting next to him in silence, waiting for him to speak.

After a few minutes, when you realize that it doesn’t mean anything, break the silence: "Hey, are you all right? You seem... distracted."

Pope shakes his head, without even looking at you. "No."

Feel a pinch to the heart seeing that sad expression he rarely shows. Gently, put a hand on his shoulder. "Would you like to tell me?"

He sighs, looking up at the horizon. "I confessed to Kiara that... I have feelings for her. I’m in love."

You bite your lip, surprise. It’s a confession you didn’t expect, but something inside of you understands why it is so broken.

"And she... what did she say?" you ask, the voice just whispering.

Pope shrugs his shoulders, a bitter smile popping up on his lips. "He said he doesn’t see me that way. That... that I’m just a friend to her. Just a friend." His voice breaks, and you feel the pain behind every word.

You can’t help but come closer, putting a hand on his face to make him turn towards you. "Oh, Pope... I’m really sorry."

He looks down, visibly embarrassed. "I feel stupid for hoping for it. I was really naive, wasn’t I?"

You shake your head, gently hugging him. "No, it’s not stupid to love someone. In fact, it shows how special you are. Not everyone would have the courage to be as sincere as you."

Hearing your reassuring voice, Pope drops himself into your arms, his head resting against your chest. Gently start to rub your fingers in his hair, rubbing his head in a comforting way. He closes his eyes, letting himself be lulled by your touch.

"Thank you... really," he whispers in a low voice, his voice charged with emotion. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

Smile softly, and keep rubbing. "You don’t have to thank me, Pope. I’ll always be there for you. You’re important to me, you know?"

Pope looks up, his eyes meet yours. "Really?"

Nod, tightening it more. "More than you can imagine."

He remains in silence, enjoying this moment between you. And for the first time, it seems that the weight on his heart is lightening a little.

You keep running your fingers through his hair with infinite sweetness, while he stands there, quiet, almost lost in your arms. See how his breath becomes slower, deeper, as you realize that your proximity is calming him down. Without thinking too much, you bend slightly and leave a light kiss on his forehead.

Pope barely looks up, surprised, but he doesn’t move away. You observe him, looking for a trace of discomfort, but on the contrary, see the way his lips bend into a small smile as he lets go, enjoying your attention.

Then let your heart guide you. Gently, you remove your hair from his face and put another kiss, this time closer to the temple, slow and light, as if to calm him even more. Pope closes his eyes, letting himself go, and a small sigh escapes from his lips. It almost seems that the pain he felt for Kiara is disappearing, replaced by something different, sweeter.

"Do you like it?" you whisper softly, with a shy smile as you continue to leave little kisses on that soft skin.

He nods, without opening his eyes, and you feel encouraged to continue. Your kisses become more frequent, glide on her cheek, then along the line of her jaw, always light as a feather. And each time, he sighs, relaxing more and more in your arms.

"Pope," you moron, and you continue to cuddle him, "you don’t deserve to suffer like that for someone who can’t see how special you are."

He opens his eyes, looking at you with a sweet and grateful look. "Thank you... really. I don’t know what I would do without you."

Smile, caressing his hair again and leaving a last kiss on his forehead. "I will always be there, Pope. And if you need to forget... To leave everything behind... I’m here."

A slight blush colors his cheeks, and you hear him sighing again, as if the weight he was carrying inside were finally melting.

As your kisses come closer and closer to his lips, you feel Pope’s breath getting heavier. Leave a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, a taste, barely touching his lips without entering completely, like an invitation just mentioned.

Pope looks at you, his eyes full of something new, a desire you’ve never seen before. There is a moment of silence between you two, a tension that seems to fill the air, while your heart beats faster.

You smile and, without saying a word, you approach again, this time more firmly taking her lips between yours. Her breath stops for a moment, but she doesn’t back away. On the contrary, as soon as your lips rest on his, he immediately returns the kiss, with an intensity you did not expect.

His hands gently rest on your hips as he lets go, completely caught in the moment. The kiss becomes deeper, and you feel how all his sadness, his pain, turns into a pure sweetness, as if you were his refuge, the only place where he can really feel loved.

When you leave, he looks at you, still breathing heavily, with a light in your eyes that you had never seen. "I don’t know what to say... I didn’t think I could forget so, so easily..." whispers, his voice just a whisper.

You smile at him, caressing his cheek. "You must say nothing, Pope. I’m there for you. I’ll always be there."

Your lips return to seek his, and this time the kiss becomes deeper, more intense, as you feel his hands clutching you, as if he is afraid of losing you at that instant. Your heart beats fast, and without thinking too much, you move, putting yourself on his horse.

Pope looks at you, surprised, but not protesting. On the contrary, his gaze becomes more intense, his eyes shine with a desire that he no longer tries to hide. His hands gently rest on your hips, and you feel a shiver running down your back as you come even closer.

Keep kissing, with new energy, as if the world around you had disappeared and there were only you two. Every time your lips separate from his, he looks at you as if he doesn’t want to stop, as if that moment is all he needs.

You let go, cradled by that sweet and emotional kiss. His hands slowly caress your back, making you feel protected and desired at the same time. Each kiss feels deeper than the previous one, and your breaths mix together, creating an intimacy you’ve never felt before.

Start slowly lifting your shirt to remove it and you do the same with her shirt and then take off the rest of your clothes.

Pope looked at you with pure desire seeing you naked and as you were stooping towards his erection which became harder and harder and started to hurt him.

You looked at him and put your hands on his thighs as you started licking his cock making him moan and have him put a hand on his mouth knowing that kiara and jj could hear them.

"shit y/n" said Pope softly as you took all his cock in your mouth while watching him.

He moans loudly about how well you were sucking him and how you were looking at him. Even though she was trying to hide her groans you were intent on making him scream more, you wanted kiara to hear what she was missing.

You took your mouth off his cock as you started to stroke his balls and dick with your hand while you were smiling at him. "come on baby, don’t hide your moans... make everyone feel how good I’m making you feel" you said to him and he took his hand out of his mouth and started moaning while he was enjoying the handjob you were doing.

You smiled while you kept sawing him "you have such a big dick, kiara is so stupid" you told him moaning when you put his cock back in your mouth while with your hand you continued playing with his balls.

Pope moans loudly putting a hand on your head to push himself further inside you. "shit y/n, you’re making me feel so good," she said moaning and closing her eyes for a moment feeling like she was about to cum.

He started banging his hips more violently towards your mouth to get you to take all his cock and you moaned vibrating his cock and making Pope grunt. "Fuck, fuck," he said, complaining as he was about to finish.

Even if you weren’t breathing, you kept sucking and licking it with your tongue to make it come. With two more pushes towards your mouth he spilled you inside your mouth and you sucked and swallowed all his cum.

You gave him one last lick and then took his cock out of your mouth and kissed him on the tip making him moan while he looked at you with a smile.

Pope grabbed your hips to get you to ride him to get you straight to his dick and you went in one shot and started riding his cock while both of you moaned. Your groans were getting louder and louder.

"Fuck you guys, get a room instead of fucking in the living room" yelled jj across the room making you and pope laugh.

You kissed Pope gently as you continued to ride his cock and you groaned through your kisses.