#it will probably take me a little bit between finding pictures etc but i promise i'll get all of them done

[ak4rin]

i haven't done one of these in ages so like this post and i'll create a little moodboard of our characters' relationship ( platonic, romantic, familiar doesn't matter, everything is on the table ). multis please specify otherwise i'll go with the muse i interact the most with.

[miekasa]

fluff alphabet: levi ackerman

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff…. obviously, no real warnings i don’t think, oh spoilers for his ova? 

↯ word count: 3k lol don’t ask me how

↯ notes: i was going to take requests for this for valentine’s day, but i figured i’d just do them all in one post lolol. i feel like i haven’t posted for levi in a while, so here we go

Activities — What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

If you ask Levi to do something, there’s a good chance he’ll try it at least once for you. Unless it’s something he’s said he explicitly dislikes or doesn’t want to partake in, he’d gladly try it out with you.

He strikes me as the kind of person to like trying new restaurants. Not necessarily the trendy or popular or exclusive ones; but local places with good recommendations or reviews.

Down for late night drives, but you have to be the one driving. He’ll drive if you become too tired, but he prefers to sit in the passenger seat and just let you take him wherever. He doesn’t mind, and it’s a sign he trusts you.

I also think museum dates would be some thing he enjoys. Not history museums—I feel like the concept of stolen artifacts on display would piss him off more than anything lol—but art museums. That’s not to say he’s extremely into art, but I think something about a museum environment is somewhat calming to him. He doesn’t mind.

One more activity I would say suits him is watching movies or shows together. Levi’s the kind of guy that catches you watching a series and expresses how it looks stupid or boring at first, but still hovers around and backseat watches it anyway. After a while, he just gives up and starts actively watching it with you and becomes invested. He just won’t admit it.

Beauty — What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

In the least cheesy way possible, everything. Levi sees people, and his s/o in particular, as a whole person, rather than the sum of their parts. He understands that everything about you—physical, emotional, or otherwise—contributes to the person he loves. There’s something to appreciate about all of it at different times.

He’d probably admire and/or find little habits you have beautiful in some way or another. Probably things you might not even notice about yourself unless he pointed them out to you.

Personality wise, he’d admire it if his s/o were blunt and/or the kind of person to stick up for themselves or their friends. A little bit assertive; not going out of your way to make other people feel small or be rude, but simply refusing to shrink to make room for others.

Physically, again, I don’t think he has a preference for most anything, but if I had to pick, I’d say he’s a thigh/ass guy.

Comfort — How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack, etc.?

Levi is observant, so he would be able to tell when you’re struggling perhaps before you’re ready to realize it yourself, and long before you’re about to burst.

However, he would ask you how he can help. For as observant as he is, he’s also not a mind reader, and if there’s something specific he can get you, he would want to know, even if it’s seemingly small or superficial.

He would be pretty proactive about it, too. The second he figures out how he can help, he’s on it. You need a new desk to work from home? He’ll have it built by that weekend. You’re feeling overwhelmed and behind on your tasks? He’s already doing the ones he can do without your help.

He does his best to try and help you relax if the issue is a stressor, and if he could, he would eradicate the root of the stress from your life completely. Unfortunately, in the real world, that’s not always possible, but it’s nice to know that he’s willing. 

The other obvious answer is tea, but allow me to expand it more generally to food. Going along with the theme of acts of service being his love language, Levi would try to provide the basic necessities for you in order to allow to focus on solving your problems and/or feeling better. If not worrying about dinner is one thing that can help you, Levi’s happy to cook for you.

Dreams — How do they picture their future with their s/o?

Simple, but fulfilled. Levi just wants to be happy—to have someone to care for, and to have someone who will care for him.

Truthfully, I don’t think he’d mind children later down the road, and I think he would be a good parent. It might not be something he talks about outright at first, but as time progresses, and perhaps the timing becomes right, it’d be something he would want to consider.

Equal — Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It’s equal. Levi doesn’t want to have more power, nor does he want to be passive. However, there are things he doesn’t mind handing over to you, and conversely, responsibilities he doesn’t mind taking on himself.

Compromise would be a big part in the relationship—not for the sake of compromising on your dreams or ambitions, but rather, to reach a middle ground if there’s any kind of argument.

I think it’s a give and take with him. And I don’t think he would want it to be any other way. He doesn’t strike me as someone who’s on either polar end.

Fight — Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

When you do fight, it’s a lot of pointed frustration. He doesn’t raise his voice, but he can get snippy, and a little closed off—speaking in clipped sentences, using underhanded phrases, focusing on past points. What drives him crazy is the aftermath of the fight, and if you give him the silent treatment, he’s bound to crack much sooner than later.

He’s quite easy to forgive. Canonically, he doesn’t like to fight with his friends or the people he cares about, and he would rather reach a solution as quickly as possible.

We saw that with Isabel and Farlan, despite the way he was firm on his decision for them to stay behind, they were able to break his resolve pretty quickly. He cares a lot about the people in his life, and I don’t think he’d like to go long with a riff between him and you. Especially if he thinks he might regret not talking to you about it sooner.

He’s one to keep a promise, but not to hold a grudge. That is to say, he understands that forgiveness goes both ways, and to work in a healthy relationship, both parties have to forgive themselves and each other at some point.

Gratitude — How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Yes and no. It might take a minute for Levi to understand the depth of your actions—especially the ones that appear more mundane or are not as explicitly romantic.

Once he does, he is very aware of them, and as such, if very grateful. He didn’t every really think he’d be able to create and be apart of the kind of loving relationship the two of you have. He really cherishes it.

Honesty — Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

He has secrets by way of omission. He doesn’t lie to keep things hidden from you, but sometimes he doesn’t tell everything about himself, especially towards the start of your relationship.

It’s not always with malicious or even self-protective intent. He just doesn’t share because he doesn’t think it’s important, or that you might care. If you pry long enough or insist that you want to know just to know and because you care, then he’s happy to share.

As previously mentioned, it might take him a while to realize just how much you care about him, and his past and interests by extension. 

Inspiration — Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

As your relationship progresses Levi comes to learn that you genuinely find him attractive not just physically, but emotionally and psychologically. That you actually want to know him and that he’s worth knowing.

So, his biggest change is in the way he approaches his thoughts about himself and his self worth. But he also begins to pick up on your habits, your interests, and tries to understand your general approach to life, too.

He would probably change you in some ways, too. Most notably in the way you organize and clean your space, probably. He’s not sorry about it.

Jealousy — Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

No, he doesn’t. To him, jealously would imply that someone has something he wants. Firstly, you’re not an object to him, and secondly, he has you. There’s nothing more to it.

He’s not childish, nor is he out of check with his emotions, so he wouldn’t lash out on you, especially if it’s not your fault. In his small momentary slips, you wouldn’t even have noticed he was jealous at all.

He wouldn’t like it if someone was repeatedly making advances on you, especially if you’ve explicitly told them off/they were making you uncomfortable. In situations like that, he would simply try to get the both of you out of there/away from the person as quickly as possible.

There’s also an element of trust to this with Levi. He wouldn’t expect you to try and make him jealous out of spite; and he would trust that you wouldn’t play on the advances of other people if you notice them.

Kiss — Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He is a good kisser. Mainly because he’s very perceptive to what you want and how to give it you.

The first kiss was sweet. Knowing Levi, there was probably quite the build up to it, so even if it was sweet and innocent, there was a layer of tension and a crash of emotions coming forward in the moment. It was memorable, to say the least.

Love Confession — How would they confess to their s/o?

I have imagined this time and time again… and I think it really depends on the foundation of your relationship/friendship with him before.

In the most generic scenario, it would probably be a little backwards—you would have, intentionally or not, gone on some dates before he realized what his feelings really were, and then take it from there.

If you were friends for a while before hand, it can probably go the implicit dating route—that is you’re both exclusively emotionally invested in each other, and basically involved in most relationship aspects without having realized it or put a label on it. You kind of naturally morph into a relationship, and it probably takes a verbal confession or kiss or two to solidify it.

It can also go the sexual tension route, and one day one of you finally snaps and makes a move. The verbal confession would come in the aftermath, but your actions will have solidified and expressed your feelings long before that.

Marriage — Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Again, yes and no. Without taking into account the legal aspects, the actual concept of marriage is that juxtaposition of sweet and powerful that Levi likes; the idea of devoting yourself to someone and receiving a special kind of love for the rest of your life.

And while all of that is beautiful to him, there are the unfortunate cultural norms or marriage, especially in a modern au. The legality of it all, especially the financial defaults, would be a headache. Not to mention all the fluff and grandeur and gender expectations about it. He thinks all of that fucking sucks.

Above all, he doesn’t get why people expect him to pay for what’s basically an expensive document that tells the federal government he lives with you and loves you. He could do that without them in his business.

If you want to get married, then the proposal is sweet. Intimate, and probably a call back to something in your relationship, or a significant date/event for the both of you. He wouldn’t dare do it in public or even involve anybody else, other than maybe asking a friend or two.

Marriage with Levi is much like being in a long-term relationship with him. The way he acts in marriage isn’t exponentially different than the way he had been acting as your boyfriend. It’s all still very quiet, very sweet, very domestic.

Nicknames — What do they call their s/o?

He calls you by your name, unless you ask him to call you by something else. He might call you by an actual nickname, that is a shortened version of your name, if that’s the name you usually go by.

He’s not big on pet names and they slip out from time to time, but not in place of your actual name on an every day basis. If anything, he calls your name with a very unique tone to his voice. He rarely calls for anybody else with the same tone and/or emotion.

On Cloud Nine — What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s not… not obvious to his friends, but he doesn’t look like he’s been shot by cupids arrow or anything. If you know Levi, you might pick up on the fact that he seems a bit happier, less stressed, has taken up new hobbies/habits, etc. But there’s not he’s not shitting rainbows and sunshine all of a sudden.

Love is very personal and intimate for him. He would do his best to express to you that he loves you and loves the love he receives from you, but he doesn’t feel that everyone else needs to know.

So, it’s somehow simultaneously noticeable and unnoticeable when you’re together in the presence of other people.

PDA — Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss when others are watching?

Levi isn’t big on PDA. He’s not hiding your relationship, but he doesn’t care to boast it to every person he meets, either. If somebody asks him, he’ll happily say that he’s in a relationship, but he doesn’t bring it forward himself.

He’s not hiding it or shy, but he doesn’t feel the need to be all over you in public. He doesn’t anything to prove to anybody. Besides, nobody wants to see that shit. He knows he wouldn’t.

There are some displays of affection, though. Hand holding isn’t abnormal, though likely not in a casual space with your friends or family. He’ll brush is hand along your arm when he’s walking past you, might ruffle your hair if the occasion calls for it, squeeze your thigh under the table.

Quirk — Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s canonically good at math. This comes in handy when you’re at restaurants and trying to calculate a tip quickly. Somehow, he knows how to figure out 18% of your bill in 3 seconds flat.

It also comes in handy when you’re trying to organize things. Along with math comes a pretty good understanding of spatial reasoning. Somehow Levi is always able to put away your left overs using the smallest and least amount of tupperware possible. It’s kind of ridiculous, he might be a wizard.

Romance — How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

In the traditional sense, he might not appear romantic, but he’s the kind of person to say or do or gift little things that would take a much deeper romantic understanding of his partner than some grand, generic act like buying a thousand roses.

His romance is tailored to you and your relationship, not general expectations of what it means to be “romantic.”

Support — Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Levi is very devoted to you, so if you ask for his help, or he can help without stepping on your toes, he will. He wants you to not only succeed, but feel fulfilled through your achievements, and he’s happy to help you get there.

He believes in you wholeheartedly. If it’s something you really want, Levi wouldn’t dare doubt that you could achieve it.

Thrill — Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He doesn’t feel the need to try out new things based on expectations, but if you want to try something, or if he wants to try something, you can have a conversation about it, and eventually try it out.

There’s a sort of established routine in a domestic sense; a sharing of a mutual space and the behaviors associated with that. But there’s not, like, established date nights or “week-a-versaries.”

In that sense, he can be pretty spontaneous; bringing up new places to go or activities to try when the idea strikes him. But I suppose it’s never something… too adventurous? Not dangerous, at least lololol, he’s not going to randomly suggest you go skydiving as a bonding exercise. 

Understanding — How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

Very well. Levi kind of makes you his business—in the most non-intrusive way possible. He’s perceptive and picks up on things about you with relative ease, and genuine interest.

He can predict how you might respond in a situation with pretty good accuracy, can guess what you might pick off the menu at a new restaurant, if given a choice has a good sense of which option you’ll choose. Very much a “I knew you would say that/do that, I don’t know why I even asked,” kind of person once he gets to know you. 

He can be pretty empathetic, and I think he would be in a relationship.

Value — How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

Your relationship is pretty damn important to Levi, and he devotes a significant amount of time and attention to it. Not in the place of giving time for himself, his friends, family or interests; but he is very much devoted to you.

However, he’s not the type to give up solid opportunities (ex: financial, for his family/mom, career-wise) for the sake of a relationship, especially if he’s not in the position to do so; and he wouldn’t want you to give up exceptional opportunities that align with your goals for him either.

Everything is relative in that sense, I suppose. He cares for you, deeply, and knows that you do, too. That, contrary to popular belief, is what enables you both to be strong enough to bend and not break.

Wild Card — A random fluff head canon.

I’ll give you a few :)

If you want him to, Levi will do your hair for you, and he’s pretty fucking good at it, too; hair type or texture be damned, he’ll take his time with it, and do it well for you.

When he’s alone, Levi hums himself to sleep. Usually singing/humming his mother’s favorite songs and/or songs he remembers hearing as a child.

He always gives you the lighter bags when you take your groceries upstairs/into your house. He doesn’t tell you, but he knows you don’t like to ‘make’ him do all the work.

He always makes dinner if he gets home before you.

He’s a pretty good artist, and has even drawn you once. He’s never told you or shown you, but he keeps the picture folded up in his wallet. Or behind his phone case.

XOXO — Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Affectionate in private, yes. He doesn’t mind it if you’re all over him, and truthfully, has his moments where he’s shamelessly all over you, too. Especially in the morning, he’s a cuddle bug.

Kisses are always good, he would never oppose them. He’s quite easy to persuade with kisses, actually. And most physical touches; he doesn’t get them often, so he kind of melts when he does. 

Cuddles, too. Again, all of this is private and in the comfort of your own home. His favorite way to cuddle is to either have you completely on top of him, or to lay his head in your lap. Because he loves the feeling of you playing with his hair.

Yearning — How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Levi will take part in things you like or things you’ve claimed in your shared space.

For example, he might find himself eating your favorite foods more often, sitting on the spot on the couch your sit in most often, rolling over to your side of the bed in his sleep.

He also likes to look back on pictures of the two of you. He doesn’t particularly like to be photographed, but he likes having these physical memories of your relationship, so he’ll indulge you when you want to take a picture together. And they come in real handy during times like this.

Zeal — Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Levi will definitely put up a fight for you, so long as it’s mutual. He wouldn’t pour his effort into someone or a relationship in which he feels like he’s not receiving the same.

I’m not sure what great lengths there would be to go to in a modern au, but he definitely believes that relationships are hard work, and as such, is prepared to put in the work when things get hard. He’s not a quitter, and he knows that love is foundation and requires time and energy.

He cares about you too much to let you go without reason.

[yougotthatbilly]

take care (m)

→ member: johnny seo

→ genre: assistant!johnny | smut

→ word count: 15.9k (not surprised atp)

→ playlist: body talk x majid jordan, warm x majid jordan, BoRdErSz x zayn, moment x victoria monét

→ warnings: slowburn, indecisiveness, v  self-indulgent; unprofessional relations, big dick!johnny (ofc; don’t expect anything else), soft dom!johnny, begging (johnny’s a tease), subspace, oral; face-fucking, (and if you squint, ass eating), unprotected sex, squirting, praising, overstimulation, etc. 

↳ summary: your assistant just wants to take care of you

The heavy rain outside mocks you. You were supposed to be at your favorite bar across the street, but here you are sitting at your desk, staring out your window. And that’s how Johnny finds you after being granted entrance into your office.

Your arm is propped up on the arm of your seat, cheek in hand, lips pouted. Johnny does his best not to smile at the thought of you looking adorable as not to piss you off. He just sets your cup of tea down on the coaster on the corner of your desk. 

“How was the meeting?” he asks, taking a seat on the other side of your desk. 

You slowly spin to face him, looking at him with annoyed eyes as you take a sip of your tea. It’s the perfect temperature—a temperature Johnny took almost a month to perfect— and sweetness, and it instantly makes you feel a little better.

“Don’t worry,” you sigh. “Jiyoung didn’t get fired.” You have a three-strike policy; this incident is the second strike.

“Jaehyun,” Johnny corrects, grinning.

You tilt your head at his correction. “I care?”

Johnny just shakes his head, knowing you’re being petty because Jaehyun got his dates wrong and uploaded a post on a few new products a week earlier than the scheduled date, resulting in having to speed things up a little. It didn’t cause a major problem because you’re typically prepared for the worst case scenario, but you don’t like feeling rushed and when things don’t go as planned, so you were pissed. 

“What’s his punishment?”

“That’s between me and him,” you tell Johnny before taking another sip. Your lip curls in disgust at the suggestive look your assistant gives you. “Okay, let’s not be gross. He’s a child.”

“I didn’t know 23 was considered a child,” Johnny teases, mostly because the man of the hour has had a crush on you for the last year he’s been working for you and he’s been trying to get Johnny to talk him up to you. 

“I didn’t know you wanted to get fired in his place,” you say with a tight smile. Johnny decides to switch the subject.

“Mind me asking why you looked so sad when I walked in?”

You sigh once more, slouching in your seat.

“I wanted to go to the bar…” You point to the window beside you. Johnny follows your finger and watches the storm that hasn’t let up since it started half an hour ago. “That’s not happening anytime soon.”

You’ve either been in your office working nonstop or sleeping for the last week or so and you can feel a burnout creeping up. You were going to walk to the bar to get the fresh air you needed, enjoy a drink and your favorite wings because you deserve it—especially after the headache Jaehyun caused the moment you stepped foot into your office this morning—and indulge yourself. Now look at you, hardly munching on the fruit slices Johnny gave you this morning and almost finished with your tea.

“I’m sorry things aren’t going the way you planned today.” Johnny pouts. “On the bright side, you don’t have anything else on your schedule so if you wanted to go home within the next hour, you wouldn’t fall behind.”

“I’ll probably just take a nap on the futon once I’m done looking over the new plan again.” You shrug. 

Johnny wants to roll his eyes, but he catches himself. He’s sure you’ve already gone over it at least five times. There’s nothing he can do about it, though, so lifts himself out of his seat. “I’ll leave you to it. Just give me a call if something comes up or you change your mind.”

To both of your surprise, you actually head out and get yourself a candle you’d ran out of a week ago on the way home to treat yourself to a much needed bath filled with bubbles and essential oils. The scent of the candle reminds you of your assistant because it’s the scent he got you for your birthday, and it’s become your favorite. 

You send a picture of the candle at the end of your tub to Johnny, thanking him again for putting you onto greatness, as he worded it before when you first smelled it in front of him and your eyes practically rolled back. 

[18:14] John Suh: Are you actually relaxing???

You suck your teeth at his response, but you can’t blame him. He’s the only one that knows just how much you put in to get to the position you’re in, while you’re positive a lot of others just think it was handed to you by your mother instead of the school and endless hours work you went through and continue to go through. It’s very rare you give yourself the time to truly sit back and relax aside from when you’re on vacation. And even then, work never really stops. It just gets placed on the back burner for a little.

[18:16] you: Hush.

[18:17] John Suh: I’m just glad you’re taking care of yourself. Your dark circles have been snitching on you.

[18:17] you: Wow. You really wanna get fired today, huh?

[18:18] John Suh: Dark circles or not, you know you’re still beautiful. Now stop texting me and enjoy your bath!

When you find yourself smiling at your phone, you know you should do exactly what he says. Johnny’s always been a complimenter, though his usual kindness goes along the lines of telling you that you look nice. You’re no stranger to this specific compliment, you get it all the time on Instagram from your business partners and supporters. So why does this time settle differently within you?

[18:21] you: Nice save. 

You need a video of one of your popular social media influencer ambassadors using and reviewing your newest skincare products tomorrow—due to Jaehyun’s mix-up—but that’s not happening. She didn’t record it before going on vacation and didn’t think to bring the products with her on her trip. While it isn’t her fault times have moved around, you’re annoyed she didn’t bring the products with her when she’s supposed to be using them every day because she’s one of your main advocates for your products being oily skin-friendly. You have the videos of the other models with their specific skin types, and this is your missing piece. 

The weather is nice today, so you take a much-needed break from electronics and go to the roof of the building. Your peace is quickly interrupted by the body of a six-foot male in front of you, standing in the way of the sunlight you were basking in.

“I know you hate him right now,” Johnny begins, skipping over greetings to get to the point of his disruption. “But Jaehyun has oily skin, he’s been using the products you gave him for like three weeks, he really likes them, and he has a good following on Instagram.”

You take the phone handed to you begrudgingly and look at Jaehyun’s page. Thirteen thousand followers and quality pictures. You’re not blind, Jaehyun is conventionally attractive and looks like a model in the photos and boomerangs. Something is missing, though. “Eh.”

“‘Eh?’” Johnny parrots, confused. He doesn’t know a better last-minute model for you than Jaehyun.

“Something’s missing,” you explain with a shrug. You absentmindedly tap the profile icon at the bottom of the screen and Johnny’s Instagram profile pops up. The two of you follow each other, so it’s not like you’ve never seen his pictures, but it’s been a while since you actually paid attention to detail. He has eighteen thousand followers and apparently uploads his pictures following a color theme. There are pictures of himself, random people, and nature in a strategic flow. When you select a video to watch, you’re sold on the lighting, exposure, and the way he captured the woman’s features. “Sit.”

Johnny does so without any questions. You gently grab his jaw and study his face closely. His skin is supple and dewy, the sun highlighting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Not that his skin was bad before he started using your products, but the texture and scarring have minimized quite a bit. Johnny doesn’t have the typical, bland model face your competitors love so much, especially with the slight stubble he’s got above his top lip and on his chin. 

“What’s your skin type, John?” 

“Oily,” he sighs, knowing what’s coming next. He was doing his job as your assistant, trying to make your life easier, but now he wishes he would’ve left this task to the social media department and stayed out of it. 

You thought so. “Will you do this for me instead?”

“Do I look like an influencer to you?” 

“Yes. I’ll double your next check and everything,” you promise him. “You actually have a personality and everything you post is quality. Women will love the eye candy and all types of men will take you seriously because you don’t have that annoying pristine, perfect look to you like Jaeyoung does.”

Johnny is here to fulfill your needs, so he knows you asking is really just you being polite. He doesn’t have much of a choice, especially with the lack of time you have. He is enjoying the warmth of your hand and the fact you referred to him as ‘eye candy,’ too. And who is he to say no to extra money?

“I’ll have it recorded and edited by midnight,” Johnny smiles, giving you the hope you need. 

“Ugh, you’re the best,” you sigh in relief, shaking his face side to side affectionately before letting him go to stand up. You feel much better now. “Send it directly to me.” 

Johnny stands up with you and leads the way, opening the door for you. “Yes, ma’am.”

Always true to his word, Johnny emails you two links at a quarter-till, with a message attached: 

Good evening, 

I edited two videos for you, one short enough for a regular post on the company’s page and the other that could be used for my IGTV for my followers. I hope these meet your expectations, but if there’s anything you need me to fix or redo, let me know and I’ll get right to it. 

Sincerely, 

John Suh

You get comfortable in your bed with your iPad and tap the first link. You make sure the brightness and volume are high enough to get the full effect, then press play. The quality of the film makes you assume he used a professional camera instead of his phone, and he gets a point for that. 

“Hey,” Johnny starts with an awkwardly endearing smile. “I know this is a little different than what I usually post, but I got scouted by the skincare goddess herself to be an ambassador for Surreal’s new line of skincare, Ethereal.”

You grin at the nickname and note that with him being in the bathroom, there’s no echo in his audio, and that gives him another point.

“I’ve been using the four of the five products I’m about to introduce to you everyday for around a month and before I do my skincare routine for you, I’ll show you what my skin looked like before I started using these products with dates so you don’t think I’m just trying to sell you on them just because she’s been writing my checks for the last year,” Johnny chuckles, then the screen shows a selfie Johnny took with the date of a month ago from today, some hyperpigmentation and small bumps dotting his cheek and jaw. 

Another point for including before and afters. You knew he’d meet your expectations without you having to say much.  

“I’ll get up close and personal at the end so you can really see the results,” Johnny winks into the camera, causing you to blink. 

You knew he’d have personality and that was one of the main reasons he was a great idea, and while in hindsight his actions are predictable, you shake your head. The fact that he’s actually charming makes you scoff, but you’re sure that the damn wink only worked on you right now because it’s almost midnight and you should be asleep right now. You won’t act like he hasn’t always been nice on the eyes, but he’s Johnny. 

You can’t deny that you do thoroughly enjoy the Johnny presented to you through the screen, though. 

“The first product is an oil-based cleanser because the SPF in this collection is oil-based as well,” Johnny explains, then proceeds to show the jar and small spatula that comes with it before he scooped some out, capturing the texture of the product well. 

And that’s how the rest of the video plays out, the unusually deep, gentle tone of Johnny’s voice explaining how well each product works for his oily and acne-prone skin, lulling you into a relaxed state against your headboard. He keeps things short and simple, the video just barely passing three minutes and as promised, his face comes a lot closer to the screen, showing the faded scarring and smooth texture of what used to be his problem areas. Johnny ends the video with a sweet smile and says goodbye. The shorter video is edited to where he’s hardly talking, mostly just demoing your products, just the way you like things to be on the company’s page.

You did great, John. Thanks again for doing this last minute. You can come in at 10 am tomorrow since I had you working overtime today. Rest well. 

Johnny is at your desk with your morning cup of tea at eight in the morning, a bright smile on his face as he tells you good morning. 

You glare at him. “Why are you here?”

“Because it’s my job?” Johnny says, pretending like he doesn’t know what you’re referring to. You can read him well, though. You take the mug out of his hand before gesturing for him to take a seat in front of you. 

“You’re either being hard-headed as usual, or you’re anxious about your video being uploaded. Which is it?” 

And that wipes the bright smile off of his face. 

“I slept three hours last night,” he confesses. “I’m not used to this kind of exposure.”

You take a couple of sips of your tea and quietly observe him, thinking. 

“Would you prefer we didn’t post it, then?”

Your assistant looks at you as if you didn’t just speak one of the languages he’s fluent in. You just blink at him and continue drinking your beverage, waiting for him to either say yes or no in case you need to make other plans, again.

“You’d do that for me?” he finally says after a while of staring at you like you’re crazy. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” you ask slowly. “You’ve proven how far you’d go for me and I appreciate it, but I care about you as a person and anxiety is a bitch, so I wouldn’t want you to be panicking over Jaejoon’s mistake.”

The corner of Johnny’s lift curls at your continued pettiness, and maybe his heart does a thing at the fact that you care that much about him. It’s obvious to everyone that he is the closest to you out of all of your employees; being your assistant means you let your guard down a little with him. Along with the more serious side of your personality everyone else gets (especially recently), he sees your soft side. You’re not an overly strict boss, but Johnny gets to see you smile more and pout (he’d lose his job if he admitted to you how endearing your pout is to him). But even with the closer relationship the two of you have, Johnny would’ve never expected you to choose his stage fright over your baby; your company.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” Johnny declines with a shake of his head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. Thank you for considering my feelings, though.”

You shrug, not about to press him on the issue. “Alright. I need you to post the IGTV at 2 pm and tag our page in an appropriate caption. I’d suggest you turn your notifications off for a while because as soon as you post it, it’s getting posted to our story then I’m sure you’re gonna get flooded with DM’s.”

“Flooded?’” Johnny asks, head tilted. “I mean, all I’ll have to do is copy and paste the same message answering any questions they might have about the products. Easy.”

You’re the one to look at him like he’s stupid this time. You set your mug down, lean back in your swivel chair, and clasp your hands over your stomach. “You can’t be that dense.”

“‘Dense?’” he asks.

“Are you a parrot?” you tsk. “But yes, dense. You know good and well most of the messages will have nothing to do with my products and everything to do with you.”

Johnny has the audacity to still be confused after your explanation. 

“John, you realize you’re a good-looking guy with a likable personality, right?” 

It’s not that he doesn’t know that. Johnny’s always been a pretty confident guy, with both his looks and personality. His confusion doesn’t stem from being blind or too humble. It’s the fact you of all people are telling him this right now. 

“You think so?” he prompts, just to see how many compliments he can get out of you. This is a rare occasion.

“When you’re not being annoyingly happy-go-lucky and chill out, yes.” You reply. And now he’s pouting. That’s what he gets.

“I thought my cheerfulness brought joy to your days,” Johnny says with a dramatic hand on his heart, offended.

“What brings me joy is everything running smoothly and everyone doing their job,” you correct. He isn’t wrong, but you decide not to stroke his ego any more than you already have. And you’ve already said too much. “With that being said, you do everything I ask of you, and that brings me so much joy. You’re the perfect assistant, so don’t cry.”

“Is this your way of telling me to calm down?”

Your iPad buzzes against the wood of your desk and when you peek at it, you see it’s an email from Jaehyun with the subject: Today’s upload schedule.

“This is my way of telling you to get to work, honey.”

Johnny often finds himself slowly backing out of your office with his hands up in surrender, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He loves the distinct differences between the two of you. He figures it’s why you work so well together and why he’s held this job position for over a year in comparison to the two assistants before him that both got fired before the six-month mark. Johnny’s also positive that you love his excessively positive nature (as Jaehyun has described Johnny’s personality before) somewhere deep down and that he brightens your day after dealing with idiots like Jaehyun. 

When your assistant is out of sight, you grab your iPad, respond to Jaehyun’s email, and find yourself rewatching today’s scheduled video. Maybe more than once. 

The video is up at 2 pm sharp and Johnny does as advised, turning his Instagram notifications off immediately. He even goes as far as taking his phone off of vibrate so he isn’t aware of any other notifications until he decides to look at his phone again. He’s got things to organize anyway, so the work he has to do takes his mind off of any anxiety within him. 

That is until you appear at the doorway of his office an hour later. This is a rare occurrence, so Johnny can’t be blamed for staring at you, and in the process, he appreciates the very fitted pantsuit you’re wearing. You took off the blazer sometime in between when Johnny left your office hours ago and now, and he thinks that the blush pink blouse compliments your complexion and red lips very well. But of course it does. Everything you wear compliments everything about you perfectly. 

Just one of the many observations Johnny has made in the past year.

“How do you feel?” you ask him. Your voice is always so calm and collected, even when you’re ripping someone to shreds because of idiocy. Johnny admittedly admires that about you.

“I’ve done everything under the sun to avoid my phone,” Johnny confesses with a weak laugh.

You nod. “Well, just know that I’ve had multiple companies and modeling agencies ask why I’ve been hiding you. So don’t be surprised if you have job opportunities waiting for you.” 

“Wow… this means I can finally quit,” Johnny hardly whispers with a victorious fist pump.

“I wish the hell you would,” you deadpan, breaking Johnny’s act and causing him to laugh loudly at the lack of expression paired with your response. “You’re mine unless there’s a tragic accident, God forbid, or you’re moving up in the ranks.”

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” you confirm, sending him a wink before turning on your heel and strutting back to your own office. Johnny licks his lips at the sight of the natural sway of your hips before shaking his head and getting back to working on the excel sheet staring at him.

“How is it that you all have the skills and training for the very simple tasks I ask you to complete, yet lack common sense and proper work ethic?” 

Everyone in the room, excluding Johnny, just looks up at you from their seats, pitiful expressions on their faces. Their eyes follow you as you slowly walk to the other side of the room. You’re trying to stay calm and be professional, so pacing around the room is your best bet. 

To Johnny, you look like you’re on a runway in slow motion, modeling the slim-fitting pencil skirt and red bottoms you’re adorning. Though still attentive to every word coming out of your mouth, Johnny lets himself get lost in each step you take because he’s not the one getting chewed out. 

Mark, one of the newest additions to the marketing department, leans into Johnny’s side to whisper into his ear. “How have you managed to not fuck up and be on the receiving end of her talks yet?”

You don’t hear anything, but you see whispering happening, and now is not the time for side conversations. Johnny doesn’t even have the chance to turn to Mark or tell him to shut up until the end of the meeting before you’re speaking again.

“Mark Lee,” you call as you make your way towards him, causing him to sit up straight. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“No, ma’am,” he responds nervously. Johnny internally shakes his head at Mark not being able to think quickly and lie. “My apologies.”

“Is there anything anyone wants to say or am I just a narcissist who loves talking to hear my lovely voice? Should I sing?” you ask, standing next to Johnny at the end of the conference table, hand on your hip. “Y’all want a performance?”

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. Your sarcasm only intensifies the unsettled looks on everyone’s face and they all side-eye Jungwoo, their savior from the last time they got chewed out as a whole. Jungwoo raises his hand before saying, “There’s nothing we can say to excuse our actions—or lack thereof, but we will get right on it and do our jobs correctly this time. You won’t have to repeat yourself again.”

Johnny is impressed at how quickly your features soften. The ready-to-fire-someone look melts away as you nod at Jungwoo’s promise. You do have a bit of a soft spot for the latter, though, so it makes sense. 

“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed,” you announce, waving everyone off. 

The room is empty, save for you and your assistant, in mere seconds. 

“You’re going to give them nightmares,” Johnny chuckles, gathering your belongings before opening the door for you to exit the conference room. He laughs once more at your responding yawn.

“How? That was me on my best behavior,” you retort, your heels clicking loudly as you walk to the elevator. “And what was Lee whispering about?”

“Your employees are just amazed that I’ve kept you satisfied for so long.”

You walk into the elevator once the doors slide open and lean against the mirrored wall, arms crossed. Your eyes are squinted as you give Johnny a once over. He has done everything right since he completed his training. “You think you can keep me satisfied?” 

There’s a challenging tone in your voice that causes Johnny to lick his lips. “I’d never disappoint you.”

Your response is a nod of your head paired with a drawn-out hum, and then you walk out of the elevator to your office once you hit your floor, walking ahead of Johnny without another word. You laugh at yourself when you replay the short conversation in your mind at the feeling you got in your gut at his response. And then you’re scoffing because, once again, it’s Johnny.

Johnny… Over six feet, amicable, charming, handsome as all hell Johnny. The scene of him licking his lips and saying those four words in that promising, deep voice in the elevator flashes through your mind once you’re seated at your desk. Your fingernail taps against the wood as you roll your lips together, stuck in your head. The ironic conclusion you come to before getting back to work is that you’re working way too much and just lacking male attention because there’s no other plausible reason for your goofy-ass assistant to have been on your mind so much for the last couple of days. 

“Really?” Johnny asks when he walks in and sees you slumped over your desk.

Your eyes flutter open at his voice.

“I was just resting my eyes” you yawn, waving him off. 

“What work is there possibly left for you to do at this point?” The products go on the market tomorrow, meaning all the work that had to be done in preparation for the launch was completed before everyone left today (the marketing department got their shit together quickly because they know about your policy and how unforgiving you are when the deadline is right around the corner). The only thing left for your marketing team to do tomorrow is look over everything once more and then you’re free to sit back and wait for customers to buy the new products and idly watch over social media if you really wanted to. It frustrates Johnny that you always find something extra to do. 

“I was doing some last minute, um”— another yawn —“touches on the-”

“Well, that’s enough,” Johnny interrupts your explanation, walking around to your side of the desk and plucking the pen out of your hand.

 You just nod and lean back in your ridiculously big swivel chair, blinking up at him slowly, because he’s right. There’s literally nothing else for you to do and you have the most full coverage concealer under your eyes; you need to rest. 

“Am I driving you home tonight?” He asks as he packs your belongings into the massive purse on the box by your feet then places it on your desk so he doesn’t have to bend back down to retrieve it.

“Yeah, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumble, thankful you spent so much money on the chair you’re oh-so comfortable in. 

Johnny puts his hands out for you to grab, and once you do so, he pulls you up. You groan and lean forward into him to catch your balance after not being on your feet for many hours, but then Johnny’s hand on firm on the middle of your lower back, and the pressure makes you stay. He’s just helping you steady yourself, a position you’ve been in once or twice before because you like to push your limits (says both your therapist and your assistant), but he smells good and he’s warm; his presence is comforting. It always has been, which is why he’s made the perfect assistant for you. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at the top of your head that simply nods in response.

“Think I pushed my limit,” you admit, much to your assistant’s surprise. It’s not that you’re prideful, but you don’t exactly like showing weakness, especially in front of your employees.

Though tempted to just let you rest your head on his chest because he doesn’t mind the proximity at all and knows you’re somehow comfortable, Johnny makes sure you’re standing steadily by yourself so he can drape your coat over your shoulders. He grabs your purse and wraps an arm around your waist then guides you out of your office, all the way to the parking garage, saying goodbye to the confused cleaning staff on his way out. 

He presses the button on the handle of the passenger side’s door to unlock it, opens the door, then fits you inside of his car. Johnny leans over your body to buckle your seat belt, and when he’s back away, he catches you looking at him with a look he can’t quite decipher. 

“What’s up?”

You shake your head and blink slowly. “I just really appreciate you, John.”

Johnny just nods to save face and closes the door before making his way to the driver’s seat. He’s not quite sure how to feel or respond to the soft-spoken, sleepy side of you since it’s been months since the one other time you’ve been in a similar situation, and he wasn’t as smitten as he is now. 

You’re fighting your sleep because even though you trust Johnny, you want to be as aware during this trip to your house. It’s a hard feat, though. His car is big and comfortable and the hum of the engine is trying to lull you into a deep sleep. 

Johnny looks over at you after getting on the main road and notices your internal fight. 

“You can fall asleep, you know.”

“You might take my organs.” 

“I would’ve done that a long time ago if I wanted to,” Johnny humors you. His response brings a small smile to your face, and that keeps a smile on his own. 

“You have a really pretty smile, John.”

“Thank you,” Johnny says, figuring it’s just your exhaustion talking. 

“I’m almost jealous of how pretty your lips are,” you sigh, mouth not filtering your thoughts at this point of exhaustion (you’ve gotten 10 hours of sleep in the last week, but no one, especially not Johnny, needs to know that). You don’t care enough to try to “correct” yourself because the pretty curl of his lips gets even deeper.

“Really?” Johnny asks, trying his luck again because he’s sure tonight isn’t like the other day in your office. “You think my lips are pretty?”

You hum and cuddle into his seat even more. After staring at his profile a while longer, you tell him, “I think you’re pretty.”

That makes him laugh again, taken aback at the string of compliments coming out of your mouth towards him of all people. It’s not that you’re mean or don’t applaud him for his great work, but this is a very different side of you that he’s seeing. He likes it.

“That’s a first, but I’ll take it,” he says, taking a moment to look at you again before focusing on the road again. “Thank you.”

“Are you used to hearing ‘handsome?’ ‘Fine?’ ‘Sexy?’” You notice how Johnny’s brows lift. “Too far?”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re good. I like you when you’re nice.”

“You like me regardless,” you say with a sassy scoff, pretending to flip your hair even though it’s slicked back in a low bun, the same as every workday.

Johnny nods slowly, contemplating if he should humor you or just laugh you off. It literally takes him 0.5 seconds to go with the former option because he’s been waiting for the day the two of you step out of professional talk and get into something more personal, specifically between the two of you. “You got me there. I mean, what isn’t there to like?”

Your eyes squint as you analyze him and process his words. There’s a subtle but still very noticeable shift in the air after his question, and while you’re sure it’s your fault for letting your exhaustion let you feel comfortable enough to open your mouth and start spewing out nice things to your assistant, his response is enough to keep it up. It also doesn't help that this is a far more intimate setting than work. 

“Be careful, you keep saying things like that and I’ll think you have a crush on me,” you tease him, chuckling at the snort he responds with. 

Before Johnny snitches on himself, he flips the script. “Says the one staring at my lips long enough to deem them ‘pretty’ and calling me pretty, of all things.” 

“Well,” you start as your gaze goes right back to his mouth at the mention of it. “It would be unprofessional of me to tell you that I think you’re fine as hell, so,” you shrug.

You and Johnny have always had a bit of banter between the two of you, and while this topic isn’t something that’s been covered before, it’s hard to really care when you feel comfortable enough to cross that line right now. If he hadn’t been playing along, you wouldn’t have said anything more than the simple compliment from earlier, but with the reciprocity, the logical voice within gets pushed away. Exhaustion isn’t much of an excuse at this point because that high from tiredness has passed. 

The timing of the traffic light turning red is a little too perfect. Johnny takes the opportunity to look at you again, and something lights up in his chest when he catches how your eyes travel up from his mouth to look into his own eyes at his attention. 

“It would be unprofessional,” he agrees with another nod of his head. “But I can’t say the feeling isn’t mutual.”

You hum and nod. “Good to know.”

“You must not be sleeping well for you to be throwing out compliments like that.” Johnny leans onto the middle counsel.

“I’m not saying anything I haven’t thought of for a while.” You tell him after a beat, choosing to reply honestly since you’re already here. Johnny quirks a brow to prompt you to elaborate, and you do so, mirroring his position and propping your chin in your hand. His face is a lot closer now, but you keep your eyes on his own orbs to avoid losing focus. “I hired you because of your experience and skill set, but I knew it wouldn’t hurt to have some eye-candy around me. Pretty privilege and all,” you wave a nonchalant hand. “You were perfect until you opened your mouth.”

“You can never be nice to me for long, can you?” he snorts.

“You’re perfect tonight, though,” you add on, specifically for the quirk of Johnny’s mouth that comes from the praise. Yeah, you failed the challenge. 

“How so?” Johnny questions, quickly checking to see if the light has changed yet. It hasn’t, and for once in his life he’s grateful for a long light. He feels good about where this conversation could possibly get him after a year of silently admiring you, so good that he not-so-subtly gets even closer, definitely in your bubble, but nothing too crazy.

“You’re calm and collected and taking care of me,” you admit. The silent deep breath you take to calm yourself grants you access to the scent of Johnny’s cologne again, and your mind is so close to deciding that logic is unnecessary. A tiny voice in the back of your mind has been trying to get your attention and steer you in the opposite direction of the one you’ve decided to take, with how you tilt your head up to get just a little closer to him.

“You like being taken care of?”

“I love it,” you confess, and Johnny takes the chance to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as he hums, content with your response. Definitely an excuse to test the waters and see how far he can go and how willing you are to really cross this line. You turn your face into his hand so he cups your jaw, but then there’s a horn sounding behind you because the light is green, and Johnny begrudgingly has to pay attention to the road. You blink, the trance you found yourself in with him so close but so far away dissipating, the situation becoming a lot more real now that he’s out of your space. You slump back into your seat and look out of the window, that voice becoming louder and grounding you as you take another deep breath. “But allowing myself to be vulnerable with someone like that? Yikes.”

He knows your defense mechanism is trying to kick in, but he’s not having it.

“Aside from me?” 

You hum. “Not quite…” 

You set yourself up. From that moment in the elevator to now, you’ve been digging your own grave, and Johnny has done nothing but assist you, encourage you to dig deeper. You’re not sleepy anymore, there’s no more foggy brain from earlier when he found you asleep in the office. Just desire you’ve done a grand job of ignoring up until the last few days. But unfortunately, you have to remind yourself you’ve been ignoring it for a reason.

Your assistant almost doesn’t say anything because he loves his job and you clearly switched the direction of the conversation for a reason, but so much (yet so little) has already been said during your time in the car and you’ve already said enough to get the gears in his head turning. 

“So you mean a different type of care?”Johnny asks. He pulls into your driveway and parks. He wants to get back to the space the two of you were at when stopped at that light, but you’re already unbuckling your seat belt and grabbing your purse, signifying that the moment is long gone. That doesn’t stop him from trying, though. “Do you need me to walk you in?”

“I think I’ve got it now, thanks.” You need to get inside and get some sleep. Are you running right now? Of course. You’re a responsible person and the most responsible thing for you to do as the woman that signs his paychecks, is to get the fuck away from him before he persuades you, because you both know it’s possible.

“Let me rephrase that:” he licks his pretty lips and your fist balls up around your purse’s straps. “Do you want me to walk you in? I know you didn’t need me to do most of what I’ve done tonight, but you let me because you wanted me to.” His ability to read you so well is both a blessing and a curse. “Now would you like for me to continue taking care of you tonight or not?” 

You do. You absolutely do. You’re tempted to say yes in the case you don’t end up alone tonight, but you know it’s not a good idea. And you’re sure the atmosphere of this car ride will disappear by the time you wake up. At least that’s what you tell yourself because you know, ethics.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you tell Johnny, opening the door and stepping out. “Thanks for the ride. Drive safe.”

Johnny watches you walk up to your door, unlock it, then disappear into your house. He lets out a deep sigh before backing out of your driveway and driving home.

Tea, fruit slices, and avocado toast are set down in front of you the moment you walk behind your desk. 

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you calmly. “Your eleven o’clock meeting has been pushed back thirty minutes, so I’d suggest using the opportunity to get out of the building and get some fresh air. You know, get away from electronics and people to recharge.”

That’s exactly what you’ll do. You’re going to be monitoring the Instagram engagement and website sales for a while, even though you pay people to be on top of numbers, so a break will definitely be needed. 

“I love your brain, you know that?” you ask, looking up at him once your jacket and bag are off of your body, meeting his eye. The corner of Johnny’s mouth twitches. 

“I told you I’d never disappoint you.”

“And I’m holding you to that.” You ignore the fact that there’s definitely another meaning behind his words. You can’t say the tension that last night’s conversation produced has gone away completely, but it’s weak enough for you to ignore it and stick to the amicable atmosphere the two of you have built for the last year plus.

“Would it be alright if I accompanied you during your walk?” Johnny prompts after a moment of him just standing there, pursing his lips together to refrain himself from grinning at you. “There’s something I’d like to run by you because I trust your opinion as my boss and my friend.”

“We’re friends?” you joke, settling into your seat.

“Last time I checked,” he responds, unfazed. “We could be even closer if you let yourself be vulnerable with me.” 

And there it is.

“John,” you say after a brief pause. He’s got his hands in his pockets, face mostly void of emotion. Johnny doesn’t want things to go back to normal, and he’s decided to let you know in the most subtle, yet obvious way. Why ignore the feeling when it’s clearly mutual? 

“Yes, boss?”

“You can leave now.”

The grin on the male’s face falters. He examines you to see just how serious you are, and he knows this isn’t one of your playful banter moments. He tries to call your name, either to ease the situation and tell you it was just a bad joke or to apologize, but you just remove your attention from him and get on your iPad. 

And when he’s out of the room, the door closed behind him, you let out a frustrated sigh. Up until you fell asleep, if you weren’t thinking about your launch, you were thinking about him. If you weren’t thinking about the numbers from your last launch and the possibility of exceeding them, you were thinking of the way you felt and the words he said while you were in that intimate bubble before the horn honked at him. You had to take a couple melatonin gummies to shut your mind up and knock out. The sleep was amazing, the best you’d had in a while, but then when you were conscious again, Johnny was back.

You could have done without stepping into uncharted territory last night. To him, it may not seem as deep as you’re making it out to be, but there’s too much on the line for you. Your professionalism. Your pride. Your job, quite possibly. His job. You could pay him off if you decided to fire him, but you don’t want to deal with bribes making you feel like a shitty person. You don’t want a new assistant. You want Johnny.

At that very last thought, you pick up the phone and call Jaehyun to have him run the plan by you one more time. He thinks it’s because of his fuck up from before, and you just let him think that. 

Thankfully, Johnny is out of your way until later in the night. He didn’t try to accompany you on your walk, but he has no choice but to be here at the company outing taking place to celebrate your products selling out within 4 hours. 

All shots are on you, so your employees are taking advantage of this, recording  as everyone clinks their shot glasses together and downs the painful alcohol down. You’re two shots in and you mentally note that three is your limit for tonight. Maybe four. You’re already a bit of a lightweight, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to make a fool of yourself in front of your employees. Regardless, you’re having a pretty good time. As a gift, your best friend rented out the bar, so it’s empty save for your large group, and Joohyun’s presence is a godsend. She’s being friendly enough to your employees and for the most part she hasn’t left your side, being the comfort she doesn’t realize you need. 

“Congrats again, babe,” she says excitedly to you, pushing another shot in front of you as she scoots into the seat next to you. “Can we take that vacation in Bora Bora now that you’re free and even richer?” Her teasing smile makes you crack one of your own and sigh.

“You know that trip is for August. Be patient, Bae.”

She rolls her eyes but her expression doesn’t falter. Her gaze wanders a bit as she sips from her mixed drink and then she’s looking at you expectantly. You raise a brow to prompt her.

“How is it that all of your employees are hot as fuck?” she asks bluntly. “Even the women.”

You take a glance around like you don’t remember what everyone looks like. “I mean, I guess.”

“Especially a certain assistant.”

“Go for it,” you tell her, nodding in his direction. The said male is at the bar ordering something with his arm draped over Jaehyun’s shoulders, the two of them laughing about whatever the latter just said. 

“You know that’s not why I said that,” Joohyun scoffs, swatting at your arm. You may have mentioned to her a while ago that your assistant is very nice on the eyes and you sometimes enjoy watching him as he does his job. “Plus, Jaehyun’s more my type.”

You shrug. “I’m sure they’d be down for a threesome.”

Your best friend hits you once again. “What’s with your mood? You’re not acting like someone who just sold out in only a few hours.” 

Before she decided to bring a certain assistant up, you were doing pretty well. You’d been able to not look at him for too long or even have to speak to him much aside from a greeting and his congratulations before he was by Jaehyun’s side and Joohyun was by yours. But now, with him being mentioned, your eyes are having a hard time pulling away from his figure. His tie is loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt are undone. His sleeves are rolled up right under his elbows and show off the tattoo on his arm. 

You rip your eyes off of him and down your shot. Yeah, you’re thinking four.

Joohyun’s incredulous laugh brings your attention back to her. “You didn’t.”

“What?”

She leans into your side to whisper, “You’re in a mood because of Johnny?”

You side-eye her because you don’t like how quickly she read you, and her smile grows wide. 

“Oh, my—you slept with Johnny?!” she continues to whisper-yell.

“No,” you hiss. “I did not. But I could have and that’s the issue.”

“Not seeing the issue?” She’s always been the little devil on your left shoulder. “The only reason I brought him up is because I’ve noticed how often you have his attention when you’re not even in the same area. And I know the difference between a look of concern and a look of want. He’s got a good ratio of both going on.”

“Okay, Miss Couple’s Therapist,” you mutter. “You ever heard of conflict of interest?”

And that shuts her up. Only for a few seconds, though.

“All I’m saying is I know you’ve thought about it… and you’re probably thinking about it now,” she giggles, making it hard for you to keep glaring at her. “I’m just trying to help you understand that it wouldn’t be a bad thing if there is a mutual understanding between the two of you on what flies and what cannot and shall not happen regarding the matter. You’re both consenting adults and it’s obvious he’d be on his knees for you with the snap of a finger.”

You decide against telling her about last night’s situation nor do you let her know you’re considering her words. That you’ve been considering the whole thing for days. 

You change the subject instead, asking her about how her latest trip overseas went.

It lasts for only so long when Johnny and Jaehyun make their way over to your table. 

They greet the two of you and you give a nod, choosing now to be the perfect time to check your notifications, while Joohyun says, “Hey guys.”

“Why are you checking your phone when you should be enjoying your time?” Johnny asks right by your ear, his voice lacking excitement but instead low enough to almost make your thumb falter as you scroll. “Get off your phone and celebrate, please?”

You make the mistake of looking up. He’s too close to your face to use the music playing through the speakers in the bar as an excuse. His eyes don’t have their usual playful glint in them. They look down at you with a purpose, and you’re kind of embarrassed at how fast you comply with his request. You drop the device into your purse and zip it up for extra measures.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “I got this for you two, by the way.”

Johnny slides a plate of your favorite wings on the table.

“Aw thank you, Johnny,” Joohyun coos, shooting you an annoyingly smug glance. “Are you gonna sit with us?”

“Is that okay with you, boss?” Jaehyun asks after sharing a look with his friend.

“Have at it,” you smile tightly, gesturing to the seats across from you. While they make themselves comfortable, you steal your best friend’s shot and actively ignore the way she looks at you from the corner of her eye.

Joohyun and Jaehyun fall into conversation easily after she compliments the watch he’s wearing. You nibble on some celery, actively ignoring how Johnny’s still too close. He subtly squeezes your knee to get your attention, and when he’s got it, he tilts his head in the direction of the bar. 

“I drank enough,” you tell him with a shake of your head.

“It’s not about a drink. I would like to speak to you alone, please,” Johnny explains in a whisper. A tiny voice in your mind says hell no because of what Joohyun has put in your head, but the rational voice reminds you that he is your assistant and you can’t avoid him forever. 

You tell your best friend that you’re gonna get a drink and that you’ll be back, and when she notices Johnny getting up with you she nods with a whisper of a smirk on her lips all without breaking the conversation she’s having. 

“What’s up?” you ask once seated on a barstool, at least a few seats away from everyone else.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I was trying to make light of the situation and I took it too far. As for last night, it was wrong of me to make a proposition like, so I want to apologize for that, as well.”

You nod as he speaks, letting his words process in your brain. 

“I spoke out of line last night and gave you an opening, so that part was on me. I apologize and I hope we can move forward from it. Thank you for your apology.” You try to get up and make your way back to your table quickly, but Johnny gently grabs your hand until he knows you’ll stay in your seat. 

For a moment he wanted to just apologize so you can stop being distant with him and he can stop purposely avoiding you for your space, but your response rubs him the wrong way and now he doesn’t really want to drop it. He wants to talk about it because the topic clearly came up for a reason last night and he’s tired of denying how he feels towards you, especially now that he knows he’s not alone after a while of thinking there was no way in hell his little crush would even get him this far. 

“Can you not shut me out right now?”

You really don’t like his ability to see through you.

“I accepted your apology and gave you the one you deserved... how am I shutting you out?” you bullshit him anyway.

“I’m not gonna pretend that what happened last night didn’t happen. I can’t,” Johnny tells you honestly. “Can I speak to you as a friend instead of your employee for a moment?”

“I guess,” you shrug.

“As your friend, what I say cannot be held against me as your assistant.”

“Whatever, John. Go ahead.” 

“I want you,” he confesses, and there’s really no going back from here. “I am very attracted to you and when you spoke about wanting to be vulnerable and taken care of last night it only made me want you more. And if there’s anyone you can let your guard down with and that will take great care of you, it’s me, and you know this.”

All you can do is stare at him for a while. If you hadn’t had that conversation with Joohyun a while ago you would not still be in this seat, letting him know you’re truly considering his proposition. The dip in your gut at his confession confirms your feelings, but your brain and your body conflict. 

Can you separate business from pleasure in this instance? 

If you allow your desires to become reality and it’s nothing like what you imagined, you’d never be able to look at him the same, no matter how good he is at his job. You’d either have to fire him or become so distant he’d want to quit. Would a bribe really have to be offered for the well-being of your precious company? The thought alone rubs you the wrong way.

But if you’re being honest with yourself, you just know it wouldn’t be a bad experience because it’s Johnny. He’s calculated and good at anything that gets thrown at him. You truly believe him when he says he’d never disappoint you. But how will you go about seeing him five days a week without seeing him in a different light? You’re professional but there would definitely be a change in your dynamic.

“I adore you as my assistant, John,” you finally speak up after too long. “And I do consider you a friend. I just don’t want to compromise our relationship over lust.”

“It’s not just lust, though,” Johnny states. “I’m not in love with you or anything but I care about you and want to take care of you the way we both know you need and deserve.”

He’s saying all of the right things and it’s almost as if the universe is rubbing him in your face. Your control is slipping and you don’t like it. You would love to be taken care of. You crave it. Running a business right before the age of thirty comes with so much stress and bullshit and you haven’t been taken care of in years, at least not properly. You’re content with being single because you give yourself everything you need and you love having your own space, but it does get lonely sometimes. And you can’t do everything yourself, at least not to the extent you need. Your eyes scan down from his face to his hands and your resolve gets a little weaker. 

“I’m not going to push you, okay? I just had to let you know that I’m here to help you in many more ways than in the office and that if anything were to ever happen, my lips are sealed. I’d even sign a damn contract if that meant I could have you for just one whole day.”

“A whole day?” you ask before you can stop your curiosity from being known. 

“I can’t elaborate on that. I can talk to you as a friend all I want but I know that too much detail can fuck up my job if you’re not down and I’m perfectly content with my job right now.”

He’s so vague, yet he’s said just the right amount. It’s easy to imagine what exactly could be in store if you release your inhibitions and just agree, but it’s not that easy. And Johnny understands that.

“Just think about it, alright?” He requests, and you nod slowly. “What drink would you like?”

“I’ve already had four shots—”

“No one said it had to be alcoholic,” Johnny laughs. 

“Hello?” Johnny’s morning voice grumbles. 

“Okay.”

It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a while as Johnny wakes up and decodes your single word. When he understands, his smile can be heard through his next words.

“Would you prefer I go to you or you come here?”

“I’ll go to you.”

“How does noon sound?”

“Good,” you nod, even though he can’t see the movement.

“Alright. There’s a couple of questions I have before you come over, though,” he tells you, his voice suddenly a lot more serious than it was before.

“Okay, go ahead,” you sigh, curling into a ball on your sofa. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Of course you trust him. Johnny smiles at how quick your answer. “You know that.”

“Trusting me with your work and trusting me with your mind and body are completely different things,” he tells you matter-of-factly. “But yes, I did know. I just needed to ask.”

“I clearly trust you enough to be hours away from going to your place without thinking you’re gonna exploit or blackmail me.”

“And I appreciate it. As I said, I’ll sign a contract if you’re still in your head about it.” At the dismissive response you give him, he continues with his questions. “We’re not gonna be weird about this before, during, and especially after everything, right?”

“No, I won’t be weird,” you chuckle, knowing his ‘we’ translates to ‘you.’ “It would’ve took me way longer to give you an answer if I was still gonna be weird or standoffish.”

“What made you change your mind so quickly?”

You blink at the tree on the other side of your window blankly. It took less than a day to give him a response, and while he may have popped up in your dream last night, Joohyun was right. You want him and he’s not shy about letting you know how much he wants you in return, so why play this game of tiptoeing and faux unclarity?

“You’re asking too many questions now,” you deadpan. “I’ll see you later.”

The last thing you hear before you hang up is Johnny laughing quietly to himself, sounding endeared.

You’ve always been punctual, so when you knock on his door, it’s twelve on the dot. And Johnny was expecting this, with it only taking him a couple of seconds to unlock and open the door for you. 

“Hey,” he greets you with a smile and you immediately take in his appearance, having never been around Johnny in anything but formal wear. You take in how he looks in the comfort of his own home, his brown hair is parted down the middle in comparison to how he always has it pushed back, and his fitted white tee shirt and joggers are a stark difference from the button-downs and slacks he usually adorns around you. He looks good either way, you note. 

“Hey.” 

You walk past him into his home and take your shoes off, and while pleasantries are exchanged, it’s Johnny’s turn to give you elevator eyes. The grey color of your athletic wear draws attention to the curve of your ass and hips. Your hair isn’t in its signature style, but out and flowing about freely. When you turn back around to face him he notices you don’t have your typical red lipstick on, just a clear sheen covering your lips. He didn’t think you could look any better, but here he is, being proven wrong. 

You’re guided down a hallway and into his room, and the first thing you notice is a cute stuffed animal on his dresser. One you remember buying him for his birthday because that was his only request, seeing that it was limited edition.

“I still can’t believe you wanted this of all things,” you laugh fondly, picking it up and examining it.

“You gave me a budget and this fit in it,” Johnny shrugs, coming up behind you. His chest molds into your back naturally, causing you to look up from the plushie and up at him through the mirror in front of you. “There was no way in hell I was coming out of pocket for that myself when you were willing to spend big bucks on me.”

You relax into his chest, the vibration against your back a very pleasant feeling. “Touché.”

The last few days of building sexual frustration did nothing to prepare you for the suffocating blanket of tension that envelopes you once Johnny lifts your head up to the side and presses one of the gentlest kisses to your lips. Followed by another chaste one, and another until you find yourself chasing his lips.

“Feel free to bite into it when it becomes too much for you,” Johnny graciously offers in a whisper that tickles your lips.

You scoff, amused by his confidence. 

“I’m a grown ass woman,” you remind him. “I promise you there’s nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“And I’m gonna hold you to that.” He nods, using your own words against you. You’re turned around by his hands on your hips until you’re facing him. A moment of silent eye contact translate to him challenging you before his pretty, soft lips slowly slide in time with yours. 

The longer he kisses you, the more your body melts into his. You find yourself being pulled forward, him walking backwards. The kiss interrupted when he sits down at the foot of his bed, but then you’re pulled onto his lap, straddling him to resume it. A hand on the side of his face prompts him to deepen the kiss, and your mouth instantly opens when you feel his tongue brush against your bottom lip, the wet muscle minty when it touches your own and you curl yours around it to get an even better taste. 

Your hands find his hair as his own grip your ass, pulling a muffled whimper out of you. And then you’re flipped onto your back, legs falling apart to give Johnny freedom to stand. He swiftly takes his shirt off and then he’s interrupted by your palms glide up his abdomen. You’ve never felt small around practically anyone in your adult years, but with how he hovers over you, you feel tiny. You know he and Jaehyun have been going to the gym frequently, but at this angle, you can really appreciate just how big and broad he is.

Originally, you figured you’d give him the reign to do whatever he wanted and you’d bask in being a pillow princess for once in your life, but in the position you’ve found yourself in, with his print in your face, you drag your hands back south and tug his waistband down. 

Johnny just watches you silently until he understands you’re doing more than just assisting him with stripping. Your hand grabs hold of his semi (your mouth waters at how hung he is and you briefly wonder how you never noticed before), his sweatpants forgotten halfway down his thighs. The way your eyes have tunnel vision and you lick your lips tells him your plan. “You wanna suck my dick?” he asks anyway, making sure he accessed this correctly. 

Your eyes fly up to meet his gaze. “Yeah. You want me to?”

“You think I’d ever say no to you?”

His response goes straight in between your legs, so you focus your attention back on his dick, which has grown some during the time of your small interaction, and you might be a little more excited about this than you initially thought you’d be. 

You let spit fall from your mouth onto his tip, then spread it down with your hand. You flick your wrist up and down a few times and lean forward, licking a broad stripe up his shaft. At the deep exhale he releases, you glance up at him through your lashes, and the sight of him with his jaw tightened in anticipation makes you want to give him so much more, so you suck the tip into your mouth. 

Fingers move your hair behind your ear for you and if you still had any inhibitions at this point, they’re lost now. Your head bobs back and forth slowly as you continue to look him in his eyes; it’s hard to look anywhere else when you’ve never been looked at so intensely in this position. You gather spit on the tip of your tongue and spread it across his head, circling the wet muscle around it until he hums and you need to feel the weight of him back inside. 

“Tap my leg, okay?”

You furrow your brows at his words, but your silent question is answered when there’s a hand on the back of your head and the tip of his dick hits the back of your throat lightly as if in warning before his hips pull back then he’s back in your throat. Your hands come up to his thighs as he sets a slow pace to fuck your face, and when his head falls back the moment he realizes he can go as far as he wants, you close your eyes and prepare for the onslaught you know you’re about to take.

Johnny’s hips instantly pick up speed and roughness, and while he’s still in control of himself, he loses a bit of sanity. After a year of silent pining and thinking this would never happen, he’s fucking his boss's face, and of course, of fucking course you don’t have a gag reflex. 

You stick your tongue out flat to lick at the bottom of his shaft as he does the rest of the work and the feeling of spit bubbling out the sides of your mouth and making its way down your chin digs your fingers into his skin since you can’t clench your thighs together. Your hair is gathered for extra leverage, and the pull of your scalp is such a delicious feeling you moan helplessly just when your nose comes in contact with trimmed hairs. 

“Shit,” he hisses, picking his head back up to watch as he slows back down but thrusts in rougher. You clearly enjoy being used like this, spit traveling down your chin to the point of landing on your jacket and darkening the material. You’re a mess in the best possible way, and this is an image that will haunt his memory for a very long time. 

More of his resolve crumbles at the feeling of your hands curling around to his butt to press him even closer into you, even further down your throat. You haven’t even been touched, barely kissed, but you’re lightheaded and extremely aroused. While he contemplates if he should cum down your throat or wait until he’s buried in your pussy, you’re silently hoping he lets you taste him soon. 

Johnny drags his dick out of your mouth at an extremely slow pace, and how you wrap your lips around him and open your hooded, darkened eyes to look at him again shoots a shiver of pleasure up his spine. 

“Never would’ve thought,” he says around an amused exhale.

“Hm?” you prompt, releasing him with a loud pop. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. He grips his dick with his free hand and taps the tip on your awaiting tongue, amused and extremely turned on. Smearing fluids over your tongue and lips, he softly demands: “Play with your pussy for me.”

The smile you give him is a concoction of wicked and endearing. He releases your hair as you manage to wiggle out of your leggings. You soaked through your lace and leggings, you both notice, and Johnny stops you with a disapproving hum when you make a move to remove your panties as well. You squint, he laughs and shakes his head. 

“Over your panties.” You roll your eyes but listen nonetheless, slipping your hand in between your thighs. The material is extremely wet to the touch, and the slickness helps with making the friction pleasurable when your fingertips find your clit and begin rubbing circles. “Slowly.”

Johnny finds your huff of frustration adorable.

The tip of his dick taps your mouth again to gain your attention. You suck spit up to the front of your mouth, then your mouth is stretched wide once again, hand back in your hair. 

Having your throat fucked with the additional pleasure on your clit, even with the slow pace you’re forced to go at, has you practically whining, the sound going in and out as he goes in and out your mouth. That vibration only spurs Johnny to grip your locks tighter and thrust in deeper to feel as much as your mouth and throat offer. 

“You were made for this, huh?” 

“Mhm,” you affirm, eyes rolling back at the way he pulls your hair to tip your head back and get a different, much better angle. 

Johnny honestly didn’t expect you to submit so easily to him. The visual of your face all messy, eyes hardly opened to look into his eyes and hair out of place while touching yourself sparks that feeling in his lower abdomen.

 “You want me to cum in your mouth?” You hum again and even with a mouth full of dick you manage to smile. You’re getting what you wanted. “Don’t swallow it until I tell you to.”

It takes a few more strokes for Johnny to fulfill your wish. The moment his head falls back again you use your free hand to caress his balls, and that does it. He leaves the tip in so that his cum pools onto your tongue and strokes every drop out. The groan he lets out causes you to unintentionally swipe at your clit faster, but he’s distracted anyway.

“Let me see,” Johnny says after collecting himself and stepping back. You straighten your head so none slides down your throat and open your mouth wider for his inspection. He smiles in approval, wishing he could take a picture of the sight before him. “Swallow.”

You lick your lips and wipe away all the spit that traveled outside of your mouth with the sleeve of your jacket after doing so.

Johnny completely removes his pants before he leans down to kiss you again. His tongue languidly licks against the seam of your mouth for an entrance that you grant instantly. While it curls around your own and he gets a taste of himself, Johnny’s hand guides you to bend one leg and he caresses your outer thigh.

“Good?” Johnny asks for extra measure, lips just barely dragging across your cheek to press opened mouth kisses on your jaw. Your head automatically tilts to the opposite side to give him more real estate. You hum, your mouth a bit preoccupied with how your teeth have trapped your bottom lip. 

Your breath stutters at the gentle scrape of his teeth along the length of your neck after he unzips the high neck of your top to expose more skin. Whichever scent you chose to put on today has Johnny latched onto your neck for a while, kissing, licking, nibbling the skin to the point of your breath coming out a lot louder than before and the seat on your underwear getting uncomfortably wetter. You’re throbbing at this point and not being touched enough, so you claw at his sides and call his name quietly.

Johnny eventually spreads your legs more and maneuvers himself in between them. Both of your legs bend at the knee to accommodate his large build in the middle of them, and the hand that isn’t keeping himself propped up by your head kneads your hip. 

“You know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

“How long?” you prompt, voice hardly above a whisper.

“Since the day you gave me a tour of the building,” he admits and slowly rises until he’s up on his knees. 

“That’s a long time,” you respond lamely, hardly caring when your pussy is practically screaming at you to be touched. He raises a brow, and when he looks back up at your face, your lip is back in between your teeth. 

If he doesn’t touch you soon you might explode.

“I’ve wanted this for a while, too,” you decide to confess, hoping it gets you somewhere. And it does. It’s almost like you’re rewarded for it by Johnny walking back on his knees until he’s far enough to settle on his stomach, face barely inches away from the apex of your thighs. He subconsciously licks his lips at the smell of you. He’s been wanting to taste you for so long now, but he refrains himself because he sees how you’re affected by the lack of attention to your heat. He promised he’d take care of you and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. But not before breaking you. 

“Wish you would’ve told me sooner,” he eventually tells you after having you hold your breath for way too long.

“You know I couldn’t.” The way Johnny looks at you, attentive to every word that comes out of your mouth while he smoothly scoops your legs over his shoulders to wrap his arms around your thighs, makes you continue speaking. “Seems like everything fell into place, though.”

Johnny nods, rests his head on one of your thighs, and looks up at you, brown eyes still watching your mouth intently, as he unhooks one of his arms to push your right leg further to the side. His fingers are soon on your center, gliding up and down your slit, bumping into your clit with each pass. 

“I guess it did.”

Before you can reply, he adds more pressure behind his touch, and your hips just barely lift to get even more. The smile you get in return is attractive as all hell but annoying. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you or he’s just really enjoying himself. Either way, you’re getting more impatient by the second, if the way your hips rise to grind your core against his fingers again says anything. 

“Stay still for me, okay?” You almost pout because you need more, but you promised to give him total control of the situation and you’ve done well thus far, so you press your ass back into his comforter. “There you go.”

Your pussy clenches around nothing.

The light pressure on your clit is soon gone and then the zipper of your jacket gets dragged down all the way. “Take this off for me.”

Sitting up, you do as told. You toss it where your leggings had been dropped and now you’re presented in front of the awe-struck brunet in just your matching set of underwear. You figured you’d wear something nice under your clothes, both for Johnny’s pleasure and for your confidence, and with how Johnny’s eyes settle on the way your breasts are trying to burst out of your snug lacy bra, you know you chose well.

A hand slides up your torso to grab one of your breasts and squeeze it. Somewhere in the midst of him fondling your chest and pressing teasing, yet promising kisses on your inner thighs your eyes drift shut again as you bask in the pleasure. One of your own hands comes up from your side to slide under the cup of your unoccupied tit and pull at your nipple. 

The tip of Johnny’s tongue drags dangerously close to your annoying-still-clothed heat and your patience is shot. 

“John…”

“Yes?” 

“I need more.”

He has the audacity to hum and give your clit a kitten lick. “Do you?”

You huff, stuck between just pushing his face into your pussy or doing what he asks of you, but you promised, so you suck in a breath and give him what he wants.

“John,” you say again, almost whining. 

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to look at you expectantly. And when too much time goes by, it somehow hits you what he wants from you and you groan quietly to yourself.

“Please.”

“That was very convincing,” Johnny snorts. His nose glides across the inside of your thigh like he’s got all the time in the world. It tickles in the best way, but it’s nothing but teasing and you’ve been stimulated enough that if you go more than a couple of seconds more without his mouth giving you direct pleasure, you’ll go insane. So with a great amount of willpower, you try again.

“Johnny,” you whine, giving him your best pout. Addressing him so informally feels foreign, but the way his eyes light up encourages you to keep going.“Please?”

And of course a big smile takes up half of his face and you mentally prepare yourself for what’s next to come. He peels your panties off, both of you watching the line of slick that stretches then breaks in the process, and when you spread your legs even more for him, his mouth salivates. 

Johnny makes sure you’re looking into his eyes as his tongue licks a wide stripe from your entrance to your clit. He wants to be smug at the gasp you let out, but the taste of you shuts his ego up quickly. 

You squeak when you’re suddenly flipped onto your stomach and your ass is lifted up into the air. With yet another broad lick to coat his taste buds with your essence, Johnny buries his face in your pussy. He uses the tip of his tongue to collect the puddle of wetness you’ve produced and smears it over your clit, soon digging  inside to directly stimulate the bundle of nerves. 

Johnny’s lips close around your clit and he sucks on it softly. As the moments pass he gradually sucks harder to the point of you not being able to fight the way your eyes flutter shut and hips push back. He’s nice about the movement, just grabbing your hips to keep you still, soon caressing and kneading. 

“Mm, that feels good,” you compliment. At that very moment, Johnny decides to roll his tongue in up and down motions and apply more pressure behind his hands. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

He prompts you with a hum of his own. 

With how your moans start to get louder and your breath gets quicker and harder, not to mention the tingles you feel building in intensity, you know you’re already close. It’s a beautiful yet frustrating feeling because you don’t want this to end so soon after waiting so long. But you also want him inside of you so bad now.

Johnny comes back up to circle your entrance, and then he goes even higher.

“Are you— fuck,” you groan deeply. 

Your hands grip the pillow your face is buried in and your eyes have found the back of your head again. Johnny just hums at the way you react, the octave of your voice as you let out your sounds of pleasure go straight to his dick. His tongue licks filthily up and down, not leaving an inch untouched nor missing a drop of your juice. His fingers rub your entrance until he slides one in. One becomes two after a few pumps, then his thumb presses into your clit and your back is arched almost uncomfortably.

“Johnny,” you whine again, breath hiccuped. 

“Yes?” he prompts, lifting his head and looking up to see your face peaking around your body, smushed into his pillow still. 

“I wanna cum,” you tell him. It feels too good now. “Fuck, I need to come, Johnny.”

“Then cum for me.” His voice is so gentle yet commanding as his digits speed up. He tongues the skin between your holes sloppily and you try to curl into yourself, your mouth wide opened with no sound coming out of it, your walls clenching madly around the fingers inside of you, and your grip on the cushion is borderline painful.

Johnny helps you ride out your orgasm for as long as possible until your body begins shuddering due to oversensitivity. He gradually slows down to a stop, then removes himself from your body to let you breathe correctly. While he sucks on his fingers, he uses his clean hands to soothingly rub your back, waiting for you to calm back down. 

You’re a bit dazed during the transition of more kissing that leads you on top of him, straddling him once again. You vaguely remember the caresses on your waist or the pinch of his fingers playing with your nipples, but the feeling of your bare pussy dragging against his dick is very memorable because it sparks a desperate need within you to sit on it. 

Johnny’s hands on your hips move you to continue the friction, moving you back and forth on his dick easily. Foreheads connected as you catch your breath from the kiss you just broke away from, the two of you watch silently as his head reappears and disappears behind your lips, turning you both on until he’s fully hard again and you can’t handle him not being inside of you anymore.

You lift up on your knees to align his tip with your entrance. A silent look is exchanged where you ask and he nods once. He lets you take your time, enjoying the feeling of his tip directly rubbing against your sopping entrance.

Your labored breaths at the sensation bring his attention to your chest, and his mouth wraps around a nipple without a thought. By now, you deem his dick wet enough to press his head in your hole and press your hips down. The moment he slides in your head falls back because the stretch burns in the best way. It feels like time doesn’t exist as you work your way down his length, inch by inch. Your hips naturally find a slow rhythm as you lift and drop them to take in more until he slides in and out easily. 

When your features no longer show discomfort, Johnny begins moving with you. Every time he lifts his hips up a little to meet your thrusts his body slumps down the headboard. His hands are loose on your waist as you move your body up and down and he’s got the perfect view of his dick going in and out of your core while you’re controlling the pace and intensity. The muscles in your thighs start to burn, so you slow down to a stop and carefully slide your way down until your clit comes in contact with his pubic bone, resulting in your eyes rolling back, hips grinding on their own accord. 

“How the fuck do you feel this good?” Johnny groans deeply, hands gripping your ass to assist your movements.

His compliment, his hungry, intense gaze as they take you in from your eyes—which mirror his own—down to the trail of slick you’ve left behind on his tamed curls from the swivel of your hips, and the way his cock rubs against your g-spot send you over the edge within moments. Johnny soothingly rubs a cheek with one hand while the other caresses your arched spine, keeping his hips still to let you ride your orgasm out on your own. 

You slump into him, head on his shoulder, panting against his neck. A sigh of content slips out when Johnny hugs you tightly against his broad chest right before asking, “You alright?”

“Great,” you reply breathlessly. 

Johnny smiles at the positive response. He lifts his hips experimentally and gauges your reaction, which is a satisfied hum. 

“You want more?” he asks, hands moving to your hips to carefully grind against him. How could you say no? “Hands and knees, baby.”

You begin climbing off to the side of him then he follows your lead and lifts himself up so you can settle on your knees and bend until your face slides onto his pillow. Your hands grab the sides of it in anticipation. 

A deep groan sounds from behind you, so you crane your neck and see the way he stares down at how he can see everything you have to offer him at this moment. One hand goes to his dick while the other massages one of your cheeks. He runs the swollen tip of his dick along your slit, collecting what’s oozed out. You close your eyes and relax the side of your face into the cushion beneath it and take a breath, preparing yourself for the stretch and intensity this angle never fails to bring.

He slowly starts to breach your entrance. There’s a pause, then you hear him spit down before more of him slips inside of you inch by inch with each roll of his hips. He keeps his movements shallow for a while and your walls reaccept him easily. A particular thrust sends him deep inside of you, his tip just barely kissing your cervix. Your body’s first instinct is to run away from it. His hands on your hips stop you from fleeing, holding you still and rubbing the skin there to ease you. 

“I won’t go too deep,” he tells you, hips still as he kisses up your spine and makes you dizzy by the tenderness of it all. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You nod at his promises and take another steadying breath, then the pleasurable friction is back. You’d believe anything he told you with that intoxicating voice of his. 

A loud, embarrassing squelch comes out of your core when he’s sheathed inside that makes you bury your face into the pillow. There’s one last kiss at the top of your spine before the body heat from his chest is gone and he’s back upright. He finds his rhythm easily, and hands return to your backside, fingers digging into the flesh, no doubt leaving behind white imprints. He uses his grip as leverage to fuck down into you at a different angle that allows him to speed up and rip an unrestrained moan from your throat. 

“You okay?”

You nod violently and sob, “Yes! Oh, my god, yes.”

Content, Johnny hums and you just know he’s grinning down at you by the sound of his voice when he asks: “Feels good?”

“So good,” you whine, unable to close your mouth or stop noises from coming out of it. You begin dropping your hips down to meet his thrusts, the loud smacks of skin against skin echoing and bouncing off of the walls of his room. “Fuck it feels so good, Johnny.”

“I know, baby” he groans. “And this pussy feels so fucking good—shit.”

The two of you get lost in the rhythm you’ve created and no more words are exchanged for a while, just the sound of groans that comes deep from Johnny’s throat and whines and pants that make you drool all while drying your throat out. The room has gotten increasingly hotter and your bodies now shine with a thin, sticky sheen that makes the back of your thighs stick to the front of his own every time he fucks back into you. Your sensitive nipples rub harshly against the sheets, stimulating you even further to the point of another sob ripping out of your throat and your walls fluttering around his girth. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper. Your divulgence prompts him to reach his arm under you to graze his fingertips over your engorged clit and then you’re repeating your words over and over again until your actions meet your words and you’re cumming all over him. Your essence drips down the insides of your thighs and his balls and his thrusts create wetter, louder noises. A swivel of your hips causes his dick to pop out and suddenly your body is vibrating. 

“There you go, baby,” Johnny praises you, sliding back into you and precisely hitting that spot within you a few more times until your pussy clenches again and he pulls out again, letting more wetness spray the sheets under you. 

“Look at you,” he continues with a deep chuckle. “Making such a big mess.”

You don’t know if he really meant for you to look but your curiosity gets the best of you and you lift your head and look in between your legs. There’s a dark puddle on his sheets and another whine leaves your body, your head falling back into the pillow. 

“Can you handle more?” Johnny asks you softly, slapping the top of your asscheek with his dick. 

You need more. You don’t know what the hell Johnny has done to you and your body but you feel empty and not satisfied enough. Your core is raw at this point but you want nothing more than to feel the velvety skin of his thick, long dick sliding in and out of you and hitting every spot in you that makes your body convulse again. 

“Please,” you beg, wagging your hips to emphasize your needs. “Please, Johnny.”

“I’ve got you begging now?” He sounds so turned on yet taken aback, another dark laugh vibrating your body at the nod of your head and movement of your body. If you were in your right mind, you would be ashamed of your behavior and submission to your assistant, but you’re not. And who cares when you’ve never felt this way before and crave to feel even more?

“I need it,” you confess without shame. “Need you back inside of me.”

Johnny doesn’t need any more convincing to be back, deep within you and instantly satisfying you again. Your breath stutters and it’s not easy to speak in coherent sentences, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to voice your pleasure and appreciation to the brunet whose self-control only continues to dissolve the faster he slams into you and the higher your voice gets.

Both of your breath patterns get quicker, loud, more erratic, signaling the approach of his first release and your third? Fourth? You can’t keep up with it when your brain has turned into mush and you can barely remember your own name, only his own registering in your brain. His name rolls off of your tongue like a mantra, driving him insane behind you. 

“Where do you want me to cum?” he pants. It takes you too long to swallow in an attempt to lubricate your throat and answer him, Johnny humming in question impatiently. 

“My back,” you manage to squeak out. You’re impressed with the amount of control he has, the slamming of his hips into your ass somehow speeding up and getting rougher. Johnny lacks the control and precision from before, and the way his tip kisses your cervix rips a yell out of you, eyes watering as you hold on for dear life. He releases a drawn out groan from deep within, and not too long later you feel ropes of cum land on your lower back and ass.

Your body is shaking. Tears leak out of your eyes, your breath is hard to catch, and quiet cries come out. You’re gently flipped over and pulled into strong arms, quickly finding comfort in the chest you settle into. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Johnny’s soft voice says to you, but you can’t open your eyes or your mouth to acknowledge him. You’re confused about why you’re reacting to this, but you don’t dislike it. Especially when you have Johnny to soothe you and help you calm down. “Are you hurting anywhere?” 

You shake your head and finally try to respond, but it takes a couple of coughs and harsh swallows of spit to do so. “No. I feel good. Everywhere.”

Your speech is choppy, unlike your usual way of speaking, but stringing words into sentences that flow well is too much work right now. Johnny doesn’t mind; he loves that he had that effect on you after you’ve had him under your spell for so long. He loves the fact he successfully kept his promise to you and now you’re boneless in his arms. 

He reaches for the glass of water on his nightstand and hands it to you. “Are you ready for a bath?”

“Can I fall asleep in the bath?” you ask, wiping your face tiredly.

“Sure,” Johnny says softly before setting you down on the dry part of the bed. “I’ll come get you once it’s ready.”

That’s how the rest of the day plays out, you getting taken care of in multiple ways. Your favorite method is with his tongue and fingers as he made out with your pussy for what felt like hours in lieu of an apology for going so hard. And maybe Johnny purposely falls asleep next to you after you’re bathed, fed, and exhausted from coming, curled up into his side in the new sheets because he wants you to stay a little longer. There’s no way in hell he’ll ever get to see this side of you again after today.

“Good morning,” Johnny greets you. It’s eight in the morning the following Monday, and he’s got your avocado toast and fruit in his hands as he walks up to your desk.

You're rummaging through your bag looking for the bobby pins you threw inside of it this morning in your rush to get to work on time because believe it or not, you overslept. You give up in favor of looking up to greet him back, but your voice decides not to come out when your eyes lock with his. There hadn’t been any contact since you woke up in the middle of the night and he walked you to his door with a lingering kiss that quite literally took your breath away to close out the short chapter of your relationship you’d just created. You were still tired, but you definitely were not supposed to sleep over, so it was nothing. 

But now, seeing the same eyes that stared into your own while you came and cried his name multiple times, all you can do is blink. And then he licks his pretty lips. You knew this would happen. You’re not mad at it, though. How could you be when you’d never experienced someone like him before? In hindsight, there was no possible way to go back to normal after the intimacy, tenderness, and raw attraction you shared that day. No possible way to never want another taste. 

“You okay?” he asks unsurely, setting your plates down. 

And here it comes.

“Johnny,” you say lowly, setting your bag down. The quirk in his brow and the corner of his mouth lets you know he’s onto you. And that just makes things easier for you. “Lock the door.”

yikesssssss

[siriusmydeer]

george weasley smut alphabet

george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: at this point i don’t even know what to write, seggsy things

a/n: that took 3 days holy shit

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

ok molly taught him to be respectful alright, always treat your lady well. kisses, showering, praise, love, affection, cuddles. the whole nine yards, not one step left behind.

“c’mon, dove, y’gotta get up. please, f’me?” the boy slightly-slurred, pulling up your hair slightly damp from sweat, grasping it all into double french braids. showering you, meanwhile showing you immense praise and affection; kissing from your ankle points all the way to the apple of your cheeks, and dressing you in the process.

“mhmm, don’t wanna.” you proceeded to mumble, your body begging you to sleep and rest; feeling immense of exhaustion from previous rounds. finishing the braid in your hair, the red head picked you up and placed you onto the red-plaid comforter of the bed.

your body starting to meld with the mattress, and breathing becoming heavier almost delving your subconscious into the realm of sleep; feeling him slip under you and place your head right on his bare skin, feeling the bone of his sternum.

“did i... did i do well?” you murmured through fatigue, yearning to feel the warmth and affection of your boyfriend while his heart beat lulled you like a baby from a lullaby to a deep hearted sleep.

“you’ll always do perfect for me, forever ‘n ever.”

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

ok so, he loves his hands. they’re big, and skinny, and his fingers are long. i mean he catches you looking at them all the time so it also happens to be a nice ego boost. george’s self esteem has kinda always been there but it hasn’t been amazing, but when you came in the picture then it was like 📈

“george, georgie, please. s’too much, too much.” your vision had been immensely bleary for the last few minutes due to pleasureful tears dripping from your waterline. your fingers tried to find the closest thing they could grapple at, george’s hands.

after three continuous rounds, george had been finger fucking you for the last thirty minutes pushing you to vast overstimulation. you had the feeling of pins and needles dance upon your cunt; the waves of pain and pleasure mixing into your nervous system and sprawling throughout your entire body.

you grasped ahold of his ivory-toned hand, trying to beg for his mercy; yet none was shown, this was your punishment. he reclined his hand that had a tense hand on your thigh, now directly on your abdomen pressing you back onto the messy comforter bed keeping his hand placed there.

seeing the arch of your spine in his direct view, seeing your face slightly contort in delectation as he hit the g-spot with the pads of his fingers. feeling the intense pride on how he could get you, so delighted and filled with pleasure at his decree.

“taking it like such a good girl, you’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

he likes tits, i mean... HE GIVES THE VIBE. like if he could he would hold them, squish them, kiss them, mark them in anyway he wanted FOREVER. which he would, but he couldn’t 24/7 so he took his opportunities when he could.

“hello george, how are you? i’m great, thanks for asking.” you chortled with intense sarcasm after your boyfriends sudden disruption from your reading and dramatically bursting into your dormitory and shoving his face into your chest beneath your his t-shirt.

“shhh, i need a minute of peace please.” he hushed you, feeling his lips suck a little on the flesh of your sternum, his voice incredibly muttered from the smothering of your boobs onto his mouth. feeling the vibrations from his lips send a mini-shockwave through your spine and attempting to repress an overdue shiver.

he left light kisses, from his previous red splotch, as he moved more underneath your shirt praising your skin as you chuckled a bit. his ginger hair tickled your neck as he continued, “my tits are peaceful?” you questioned, yet again in a sarcastic tone awaiting his response.

“yea, immensely.”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person) (isa i could kiss u for this one)

so, messy messy man. on your tits, on your thighs, on your face, on your STOMACH, on your ass and his fave.... inside of you <3 he just loves to see it on you, it turns him on again no matter how many times you’ve been at it.

que: birth control potions, because i’m pretending they exist and creampies are fun.

“gonna— gonna finish, where d’you want me?” the boy heaved while doing continuous thrusts deep into the walls of your cunt. furthering your grasp onto the clenched biceps and forearms that laid tense beside your perspired face.

“inside me, please. want it inside me.” your voice was winded and huffed, feeling the euphoric pleasure crinkle and bend onto your nervous system from your orgasam lull you into a relaxation, while your boyfriend continued to thrust into your overused cunt of the night.

feeling his tepid release stick into the planes of your thighs and a light sheen layer onto the lower abdomen of your torso. feeling the dripping of his cum directly laid upon your skin. the contrast between his release and your flesh looking almost exquisite in his view point.

you were so beautiful, so beautifully messy.

currently clenched around his prick you felt the tremble in his cock as he released into the velvet walls of your cunt, remaining inside of you as he caught his breath between his lungs from his swift thrusts.

“gonna keep you all full, yeah?”

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

george is in fact, a switch. like when he’s dom, he’s soft dom. but when he’s sub, he’s whiny and extremely forward in begging. it took him awhile to tell you because he felt embarrassed but after that you guys had a lot of... fun ;)

“please, please, ‘m sorry. i promise!” he griped, pulling on the silk on his restraints regulating the control of his wrists that laid on his lower back. “but georgie, isn’t this what you wanted? to be punished?” you sent a faux pout in his direction, your finger tips dancing upon his clenched torso once again edging the boy upon his ration.

“but, but—“ the boy faltered whilst speaking, trying to excuse his actions of venturing to grasp your attention whilst you were busy with another task, and disregarding you both friends pleas. “c’mon, georgie. you were bad, this is your punishment; if i hear anymore you won’t cum for a week.” you chastised, seeing his eyes widen in fright and obnoxiously nod his head in compliance.

your brought your hand back to his prick, thumb slightly outlining the slit in his tip; his most sensitive spot causing a small groan to escape his lips subconsciously, his back slightly melding off of the mattress and arching into the air at your pressure.

attempting to repress his pleasureful shivers that were scratching at his sensorium, his cock basically at your dictation for his release.

“you’re being punished, not pleasured.” you chastised once again, sprawling you hand on his abdomen pushing his back directly onto the ridged comforter once more.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

so people would agree to disagree, but george lost it first. i don’t think george would do one night stands, they were always with past girlfriends but you are the girl he truly put his all into.

“and you’re sure?” the boys frantically questioned once more, he had been previously skittish about if the both of you were ready to go into the next stage of your relationship; wanting your full consent to continue with anything.

and worrying that some kinks he had in mind might’ve been to much for future references, and just yearning for you to feel as comfortable as possible.

“told you, georgie, i want all of you.” the question was heaved through your words from the foreplay that had taken a gust of your air right out from under of you.

“we’ve talked about this darling, ‘m ready.” adding on to your comment, reassuring the boy who seemed to be faintly timorous on his next action that was soon to take place. you caressed his forearm, feeling the rigid bends of his veins over the pads of your finger tips. your other hand maneuvering itself on the curvature of his neck and bringing his lips to slot with your own.

feeling the comforting and familiar taste of pumpkin and cinnamon transfuse onto your tongue in the midst of feeling his plush lips blend with yours.

“i’m ready, want you inside of me.”

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

any position where he can see your face, he can see your body, he can see all of you. he wants to kiss you, mark you, caress you. he wants everything he wants to feel so connected with you.

“you my darling.” he spoke, sighing as he spoke. in between words of his affirmations, splotching small kisses that bore on the planes of your lower abdomen and shifting his way up your bare-body.

“are the most ethereal thing, to ever exist.” the boy continued in his wake of appraisal, of your complete quintessence and soul.

“i love you.” you whispered in a small, barely audible murmur in appreciation of the red head you had been destined with. he was truly put in your path of life to give and receive love and adoration. “i love you.” the boy whispered back at your confession, muffled into the flesh above your sternum.

continuing to leave small vermillion hues of colour, making his way to the the junction of your neck and resuming with his praises of adorations of your complete essence.

the scarlet-haired boy was completely entranced with every element of your being, almost besotted with your every move. always wanted to praise, and adore every aspect of you in anyway he could possible.

“no, i love you more.” he corrected himself, undeserving of your mutual appreciation.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

healthy use of both. sometimes you guys have your super serious moments and other times you guys are giggling together.

“oh merlin, i really hope fred did not hear that.” you spoke through a sporadic chortle, your previous whimper being a little bit too raucous. the both of your wands misplaced and unable to cast a muffling charm meant you and george had to be as quiet as possible.

“y/n, he definitely did. let’s hope he’s asleep.” george making an effort to whisper but his own disgustingly humours mind getting too himself and letting chuckle slip out from his lips mid-sentence.

“i didn’t say stop, keep going!” you hastily spoke, sending a cheeky grin in faux annoyance at him as he continued his slow but intensely deep thrusts in your pulsing cunt, the both of you close to a release.

you were deeply trying to muffle your pleasureful noises from the palm of your hand, but discreetingly failing as you let another strangled moan bubble from your vocal cords.

both you and george looking at eachother frantic for a moment, completely silent and worried if one of his dorm mates had heard the both of you. silent for a moment then chuckling together whilst bumping noses at the voyeuristic acts that were being taken place in his very bed.

“oi, some of us are trying to sleep here!”

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

yes the fucking carpet matches the damn drapes HE HAS A CARROT CROTCH DO NOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. as for grooming, i think he just just have a stubble? like i don’t feel like he cares to much about hair so he would just shave most of it off. as for u he does not give a fuck, as long as you like yourself he likes you so it does not matter at all for him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

ITS GEORGE WEASLEY IF UR NOT EXPECTING ROMANCE AND INTIMACY 89% OF THE TIME GO REEVALUATE. i’m not saying he’s not rough or not kinky, but he’s very intimate with you especially during aftercare. if he’s feeling special, like on anniversaries, birthdays, or days he wanted to make you feel really really good he would bring out rose petals, floating candles i mean he would WHIP OUT A LAVENDER OIL DEFUSER OR SOMETHING?

the floor was coated in tons vermillion bloomed rose petals, the scent of cinnamon and fresh linnen was intense through the air of the newly-cleaned dormitory, the fresh ivory bed made and the pillows slightly puffed to perfection.

“just, y’know, one last birthday surprise?” the red-head boy muttered staring at the scarlet-shaded floors whilst attempting to distract himself by fumbling his clammy hands into the pockets of his overworn grey slacks.

“d’you like it?” george continued to mutter, his eyes staggering around the room he had prepared for you both that night so he could kiss, cherish and adulate your entire being till the depths of early morning sunrise.

“georgie, i— i love it.” you felt perspiration sting in the waterlines of your eyes as you stammered slightly in shock, intense adoration and tenderness hastily speeding through your bloodstream hitting you directly into the warmth of your heart.

facing said-boy, you looked at him with complete fondness, grasping upon of his hand that was resting in his slacks now in the palm of your own comically-smaller hand.

“it’s truly amazing.”

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

gonna be honest here, not really. unless he wasn’t seeing you for like weeks, like during a holiday or something. even then i feel like he would imagine you were doing it to him, like whenever he was feeling needy he would normally just go to you and you were more than happy to oblige to his request.

“oh— fuck me.” the boy groaned while stroking his cock in quick circular motions, the other hand preoccupied with a risqué polaroid photo of you that you had sent him in the mail during the winter holidays.

it wasn’t the easiest being away from him during the winter holidays and his randomly occurring hard-ons apparently happened to occur more frequently without a desirable girlfriend around and more time to use your undesirable hand.

attempting to finish himself off fairly quickly so he could scoundrel himself back to bed counting the days till you would dramatically reunite on the hogwarts express and more than likely pull you away from peering eyes for a quickie in the bathroom.

just the thought of your beautiful skin melding with his own in the humid air of the bathroom made him spurt his release all over his prick and a groan emerging from his throat in the process.

“fuck.”

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

he has a innocence kink.... like the thought of teaching you everything like in bed makes his mind go WEEE WOO WEEE WOOO

now i shall elaborate

“pretty girl, does it feel good?” he crooned into the shell of your ear, feeling the tense grasp of your agile hands on his clothed biceps where his dress shirt laid on him and suddenly crinkled from your clasp onto him.

“mhm— yes, yes georgie.” you gasped mid sentence, trying to catch your breath from the new sensations that had washed over your nerves, feeling new pleasureful burning sensations in the pit of your abdomen and run along the curvature of your spine.

attempting to suppress small moans you continued petite chokes of air in ecstasy feeling george’s pads of his fingers dance upon your clit. “oh— fuck.” you muttered in a form of a bleary headspace trying to manage a coherent thought.

the red-head grinned in gratification, your full pleasure at his decree, knowingly giving you these new sensations. “i thought you were an innocent girl, now you’re my dirty one?” the boy mocked at your trembling figure in his lap.

“maybe you’re not my innocent girl after all.”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

in my head.... he likes voyerism. don’t ask me why but the thrill of someone catching y’all 🤪

so i will no would have to say that he likes his dormitory a lot but i also feel like he likes the common room couch.

“oh, fuck—“ the moan has blossomed out of your throat and tinged in the previously solemn and peaceful common room, but now the air felt humid and extremely titillating common room that had been used for social and cuticular activities now being used for intercourse.

“darling if you’re not quiet we’re going to be caught.” the vibrations of his words directly muffled onto your perspired flesh, due to his manipulation of your body strictly at his will. “so good, daddy, so so good.” the words mildly uttered from your throat due to the infrequent gasps of pleasure between your words.

the both of you fused together passionately on the snug common room sofa in the late hours of the night, to be caught in a very comprising position by a student or supervisor if not subtle enough. the fire being your only production of light source throughout the entire room, dismissed in the backround close to being burnt out entirely.

“but daddy, you make me feel so good.” you’re voice tinged into a slightly higher pitch, feeling his deep thrusts enclosed inside of your cunt, your attempted muffles of rising gasps and lament whimpers to be heard significantly prominent throughout the walls of the vermillion shaded common room.

“awe slut, you want everyone to know how i’m making you feel?”

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

so since georgie is a switch i feel like most of his motivation comes from when you’re bossy, outside of the bedroom. telling him what to do, how to do it, having to fix it for him. because either he’s gonna punish you for thinking you can be in charge or he’s gonna do literally everything you tell him too without a second thought.

“ok so for today, we’re not playing around here, you finish your charms, then we have lunch, we do transfiguration together, play some quidditch with fred, eat dinner, and then free period to do whatever we want, got it?” your hastily speeding voice catching the attention of his ears and consuming every single word that you had to say.

you glanced at him for a moment, his eyes slightly out of zone but still attentive to your words, also wanting to distinguish if he had been following to the list you had for the day so he could ultimately stop procrastinating and get his work done.

“yeah, er, i got it.” george spoke awkwardly for a moment, trying to discreetly shuffle around his body at the feeling of immense amount of pressure and tensity starting to form around his groin.

you raised a brown, you’re forehead slightly creasing as you tested the waters at his slightly timid figure and lack of response. “do i need to make you repeat it back to me.” tilting your head, trying to pan off as more intimidating so the red-head would coherently listen to you rather than pawn off and work on a prank with his mischievous-twin.

“no, no— i’m fi— you’re fine.” he groaned and he hesitated mid-sentence aiming to speak as casually as possible, moderately shuffling around his pants as he spoke at your firm and unyielding tone with him.

“you’re sure? because if you’ve got it wrong i’m going to upset, got it?” your voice at an adamant expression, annunciating that everything for the day was going to be smooth sailing rather than difficult and irritating for either of you.

“no, i understand.” he cleared his throat in compliance, aiming to remove any unnerving tension that might be there as he awkwardly trailed behind you to the library.

not to mention with a rock hard cock just sitting in his plants.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

threesomes. “bUt pArIs” NO. he would not want to share you, he had literally had to share everything his whole life and seeing his twin brother or literally anyone else pleasure you is a big fat NONO

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he’s a giver, if u say no, ur lying. hearing you go literally whimper, tremble, moan at HIS will that’s enough for him to cream his pants.

“georgie— fuck. keep going.” your praised the boy deep between your legs, your words of appraisal going straight to his groin area whilst you threaded you fingers directly into his damp ginger locks.

feeling his tongue swirl directly onto your engorged clit, small gasps emitting from your mouth as his face was buried into your cunt for the last hour. the exceedingly amount of ecstasy built up into a broiling pit in your belly and ready to explode at any given moment.

“‘m gonna cum, gonna finish.” you gasped, feeling his tongue prodding at your entrance, his thumb placed directly onto your swollen cunt and swirling in figure eight like motions to make your orgasam rapidly occur.

his prick immensely hard, beseeching for a release. his nearest output being the subtle grind of his hips and the soft mattress of the bed as you continued to sensually yank at his hair.

feeling the overflow of desire, the whimpers exceeding from your lips and the pressure against his cock made his orgasam occur midst your own; finishing together the only thing to be heard was your heaving breaths and george’s hoarse voice from not speaking for the last while.

“so, i might’ve just done something.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

i feel like he’s very medium paced, he’s not to fast nor slow. he has his moments where it’s very slow and loving or if he just lost a quidditch game and it’s very fast in rough. i don’t think it’s set on just one i think it varies.

“needy little slut, just wanted me so badly, hmm?” the grit in george’s teeth prominent as he spoke to you, the tensity of his hands on grip of your waist also clinically distinguished as he pulsed in and out of your from behind.

“fuck— please.” the begging was evident in your tone, feeling the grasp on your waist and he plunged into you emitting gasps every few seconds from desire. his hand grasped onto the root of your tresses, your cheek melding with the mattress and a moan exploding from your trachea at his aggressive demeanour.

“please—“ you continued you beg, not for anything in specific but the feeling of him to continue his thrusts and not falter his pace. the feeling of being exceedingly full of him, the explicit belligerent emotion he was feeling and turning that into passion.

knees bucking at his will as he continued the fast and thrown pace that was previously endured. feeling the ecstasy rome freely through your veins as he degraded you.

“my slut, so dirty.”

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

so... george wants to appreciate you fully. and i don’t think either of you would be so horny that he had to just pull you in a broom closet. even if it’s fast and rough aftercare is still extremely keen to him after having sex no matter the circumstances so i don’t think he would be into quickies.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.) - this was in fact somewhat inspired by 50 shades of grey

george is the kinkier twin. there i said it, and i will not change my mind. yeah he’s more quiet whatever more emotional, throughful BUT THOSE ARE ALWAYS THE ONES WHO ARE KINKIER. i so as long as you were cool with it i feel like he would be as-well.

“so you wanna play, dove?” running the tip of the small blade down the depth of your torso, and across your abdomen seeing the heaving rise and fall of your torso. the slight scarlet-coloured ribbon peaking from underneath the arch of your back that restrained both of your wrists.

“yes, sir.” the mumble was stern, and tense but slightly heaved from apprehension on what he would do with the tip of the stygian-coloured blade that was held in his ivory hand. your safe word explicitly-clear before he had restricted your eyesight.

a slow light vermillion trailed in its wake from the tip of the blade that moved across the skin of your navel. he heard the audible gasp release from your mouth in anticipation.

“keep going, please.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

so i feel like george goes for like.... 3? but he definitely does foreplay and stuff too. so it’s like a healthy mix of a lot. so a couple of rounds, sometimes more, sometimes less, it all depends on the time like early in the morning or really late at night.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

so, i don’t think so. so the only thing i feel like he would have is like ropes/ties and blindfolds. other than that i don’t think so, but fred has definitely gifted you something just for the kick of it all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

i feel like it depends if he’s more sub or more dom. if he’s dom he will tease you all he likes just to see you squirm, but if he’s sub then he definitely will wants you to tease him.

“georgie, please, i cant take it anymore.” you pleaded, your tone was soft but irritated, the continuous edging was extremely displeasing for you. you wanted him, you wanted to feel every withering inch of him, his body, his essence; but he simply wouldn’t give it to you.

“c’mon, weren’t you the one who ‘said patience is a virtue.’ you’ve got to be patient then, right dove?.” george made a mockery of something you had in a different context but instead he used it to his advantage.

his middle finger crept its way back to the depth of your navel and right on your cunt, starting recurrent swirls on your engorged clit. feeling a similar sensation that you had previously endured till your denied orgasam.

“be patient, or you won’t be getting anything.”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

i feel like it’s a lot of grunting and dirty talk, or even just praising. there’s more moaning when doing oral. it’s not necessarily loud but you can clearly hear it.

“my pretty little witch.” the words of appraisal blossomed from his mouth as he kissed upon the column of your neck and the bend of your shoulders. he proceeded to kiss around the shell of your ear and speaking.

“nobody can make me feel the way you can.” george murmured making sure you know, followed by a pleasureful grunt by the way your cunt was continuously clenching around his cock and the way your hand grasped at his lower back.

“oh, merlin—“ your voice sounded like a gasp, arching your back directly into his freckled chest from his prick prodding at your cervix, you’re breathing was heaved from his continuous thrusts that faltered as he was close to release and exceedingly praised into your perspired skin.

“i love you so much.”

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

george likes pda. i’m not talking like sex in the great hall or obnoxiously making out in the courtyard but he does like to show everyone that you are together.

“georgie if you kiss me again fred is going to throw up.” the murmur sent vibrational waves into the boys cheek your own affections shown at the proximity between you both, partly because the incessant chatter of the great hall.

“and? you’re my girl.” the statement was clear as day in his eyes, he wanted to show everyone just how much he loved you, the intimacy in the situation between two teenagers who were in love; he didn’t care what anyone else had to say.

you looked at him for a moment with challenging eyes, seeing the intimacy in his own cocoa-coloured ones. poorly making an effort to suppress a grin at his affections.

he took his opportunity to press a kiss to your plush-smooth lips, then the hued rose coloured flesh on your cheek, then the tip of your pointed nose.

“i love you, i won’t not show that because my git brother doesn’t like it.”

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

i feel like it’s a bit bigger than average, probably around 8in when hard? i think it’s more longer than thicker.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

i mean..... he’s a teenage boy. i think it’s average like i don’t think he’s dying to have sex every second but he does in-fact like to appreciate you in more ways that one. because sex for him isn’t just a way to get rid of a hard on it’s a way to appreciate your body and just you in general.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i feel like it depends on how hard the both of you went, because you guys could either end up talking for hours or simply just cuddle and fall asleep.

“‘m so tired, georgie.” you murmured into the boys bare chest, stroking the side of his torso as the both of you laid below his his fitted sheet bed. the time around twelve am and your eyes desperate for sleep.

“sleep, darling. i’ll be here in the morning to wake you up.” he uttered. his voice fairly hoarse and rough, whilst stroking your back feeling the wrinkle in the shirt he had given you. fairly prideful that you had been wearing something of his.

“love you, georgie” you wiped your nose while speaking, feeling love and adorned by the boy you were cuddling with; wanting these solemn peaceful moments forever.

“love you more, forever ‘n ever.”

taglist: @ronbrokemyheart @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

[lasquadrasfuckhouse]

hello I am back with a request if that’s ok with you q w q ) for la squadra with scenario-hc’s with their s/o taking care of them ( can go nsfw if you’d like but for now sfw thoughts ) as much as I love them taking care of their s/o I love when the roles are switched. Can be injured or other— but the goal is to make them feel safe and loved for as much as possible, like my other ask tender emotional moments are my jam. If find the muse for it 💖 if not that’s completely ok too. Pls & thnk u 🥰

ALWAYS OKAY W/ ME I LOVE SEEING U IN MY ASKBOX!!!! it's tendie hours 😍

taking care of la squadra 😌

risotto ✂️

it isn't easy to get risotto to relax, he's a workaholic. sit on him and give him a Look that you're not moving and neither is he, and he'll be so charmed that he'll relent.

he's also more used to taking care of people than being taken care of, so it's a bit of an adjustment to sit on his ass for a few days until he's recovered from the worst of whatever injury/illness he's got, but he finds himself getting like, quietly kind of emotional about it. he hasn't allowed himself to be cared for in a long time and he expresses that to you, and how much he appreciates and loves you.

he finds he really enjoys the opportunity to relax, cause yeah he's under the weather but at least he can chill for a bit. and he'd very much love to chill with you if you have the time. quiet cuddles or existing comfortably in the same space will have him feeling very cozy, loved, and rested. kiss him on the forehead to remind him that he is soft and precious and he'll want to snuggle you all day with a little smile on his face.

prosciutto 🚬

also not used to being taken care of. he'll be grumpy and try to micromanage the house from his bed at first (and you probably banished him to bed because he wasn't getting any rest on the couch). he relaxes when he wants to!!!! remind him that he needs time to recover and he's only human, and you promise the house won't fall apart without him. not only is he soft for you but he trusts you completely, so he relaxes.

he might be a bit restless, but set him up with a book and he'll be good. you may even take on prosciutto-like mannerisms in his place, like shushing the others if they're being too noisy. if he overhears you insisting on peace and quiet so he can rest, he'll smile to himself.

what really gets him and lets him know he's loved is taking over what he usually does while he rests, like folding his laundry and putting it away in the order he likes. and if you initiate the classic forehead touch with a smile and tell him to chill so he can get better, he'll gladly lay around all day thinking of you.

pesci 🎣

he tries to power through it but no honey you need to rest. give him puppy eyes and say you really want him to relax and get better, and he'll do it for you. he will get SO better for his babe just u see!!!!

he's also kind of glad for the chance to have downtime tho, even tho he's typically eager to help and stuff. he just wishes he didn't feel like ass. cheer him up with lots of cuddles and quiet relaxing things u can do together and he'll feel loads better!!!

he may feel kind of bad at first like oh no he doesn't want to bother u. but reassure him that he is never a bother, u love him and love being with him and that doesn't change when he's under the weather. he will accept that and thank u wholeheartedly for taking care of him

formaggio 🧀

milks it for all its worth. OOOH BABE IM IN SO MUCH PAAAIN PLEASE HOLD MEEE 😩 if he's feeling like shit at least he's gonna get cuddles out of it

would love nothing more than to snuggle up and watch stupid movies with you all day. he may just cling to you if you try to get up and insists that someone else can fetch you both dinner/blankets/etc instead. you're his best medicine!!! his comfort!!!! do not seperate!!!!!

but he is a sucker for a home cooked meal. even if you go for a bit, if you come back with something u made urself, even if it's not the most amazing display of chef skills, he'll be falling all over himself with how much he loves you because you put love and effort into something to make him feel better

illuso ✨

one of the WORST when he gets sick or injured because he just complains and lays on the pity party even more than formaggio. everything sucks!!! woe is illuso!!!! he needs ur healing kisses!!!!!

he definitely goes into the mirror world to rest b/c he needs peace and quiet or he'll get cranky. but he will bring u ofc. not just to be pampered either he's just cozy and happy in ur company

lavishing him in attention aside, what will REALLY tug on his heart is taking initiative to take care of him, like asking first how he's feeling, bringing an extra blanket cause you know he likes to have a pile of them, offering to very gently brush his hair. just like, little genuine attentive things. it may get him blushing

melone 🍈

very practical about it, there's that whole thing of 'people with medical backgrounds are the worst patients for one reason or another' but he doesn't try to take shortcuts with the rest he knows he needs and he's very polite and patient with asking for/instructing on what he needs

he's great at finding ways to entertain himself so no worries in that regard. if he's worried about getting you sick he may actually discourage cuddles for once in his life but otherwise he'd love to snuggle up to his babe all day

he'd honestly just feel really comforted if you told him all about your day and shared cool things with him or the classic 'i saw this and thought of you' he'll be 😍

ghiaccio ❄️

EXTRA grumpy when he's uncomfortable or in pain and unable to work his energy out. he's very active, so his body (or you) making him sit on his ass when he doesn't want to will leave him very prickly even though logically he knows it's for the best.

he'll generally want his space but then have bouts of feeling very cuddly. picture him cocooned in blankets with only the top half of his face visible and his general grumpy glower relaxes as u massage his scalp like calming an angry cat.

he'll be very thankful for everything you do, including kissing his cheeks or leaving him to chill with some water and a book or shushing the others if they're being too rowdy. but he'll be extra super thankful and soft if you bundle him up and go for a walk with him around the block just to stretch his legs and get some fresh air cause you know how much he hates sitting around.

sorbet and gelato 🔪🍦

if one of them is under the weather, the house gets a brief respite from their antics cause you and the other one are there to entertain them and curb their restlessness. if they're both sick/injured, good fucking luck because their boredom will feed off each other and it will be a nightmare.

sorbet likes to chill but he always needs new surroundings. he'll want to stay on the couch to at least observe the house's regular chaos but if you (and maybe gelato) see that he's not getting enough rest you will have to literally drag him into your bedroom because 1) he's not letting go of his entertainment that easily 2) it's fun to watch you struggle. he is devising every way to cause problems on purpose without moving around too much

gelato HATES sitting still so he is slowly going insane and he will let you know it. get him a big stack of movies, let him have free reign of the tv, play cards with him etc if you know what's good for the whole house because otherwise he won't stay in bed or he'll do shit like scream for help just to see you rush in and then grin and be like oh nvm babe im fine :)

you thought they were a handful together regularly? HAH. when they're sick or injured together they enable each other even more than usual. you are the only one capable of placating them, enjoy being squished between your two extremely cuddly boyfriends.

cuddles and kisses and loving attention always make them feel better, a surefire way to get them to actually rest is by snuggling them. but even if you do go for a bit, what brightens them up is hearing about all the new happenings on base or this cute dog you saw or if you bring them new snacks every day or try making something different for dinner. like, not just to placate them, but cause you know they're bored and uncomfortable and you want to cheer them up, that's what gets them. and then they'll pull you down and hold you for the rest of the night.

[atzsslut]

requested by @let-this-be-a-lesson from this, and this list.

chosen prompt(s) : 

#1 - “Is that my sweater?”

#11 - “If you were my boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

pairing : bang chan x fem ! reader

genre : fluff 

warnings : long time best friends, very obvious crushing, kind of more than friends (unidentified relationship) to lovers, implied slow burn 

word count : 2.4k words

You promised to meet Chan almost an hour ago. 

The adrenaline coursed through your body as you ran out of the bathroom after a shower, which was relatively dangerous but you didn’t care, sprinting back to your room to get into some decent clothing. 

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you almost punched it from the frustration. But you didn’t, of course, as if you didn’t have enough bad luck already.  

Are you that stupid to have fallen asleep on the couch? You thought to yourself. You were much too thankful that you already washed your hair in the morning, so it looked good enough now. 

As you dropped your towel, you swore that you’ve never grabbed such a mismatched set of underwear and bra before, but it didn’t matter. You’d opt yourself to become quicksilver if it was for Chan. 

Your hands let themselves skim through until your phone lit up on top of your cupboard and showed three notifications from the man himself. You froze in your spot reading the following messages. 

chan: okay :( if u insist [5:02 PM]

chan: but since u seem tired [5:03 PM]

chan: i’ll pick u up since i’m only 10 mins away [5:03 PM]

Your mind went back to when you had woken up to three missed calls from Chan, various texts asking if you were alright since you never missed a ‘hangout’. At least, that’s what you two always called your frequent meets. 

Your first instinct was to call him back, your voice rather nasally from the blocked nose you always got after sleeping. His kind voice kept replaying in your head;

“Chan, I’m so so sorry-”

“Oh, did you just wake up?”

“I.. yes. Yes I did. I’m so sorry, I fell asleep because I ran a million errands up until 3pm.”

“Hey, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Do you want to move our hangout to some other day? I think I’m quite free this week.”

“No, no. I need to see you, honestly. My stress has piled up and it’ll be great to see you. You always cheer me up.”

“I try my best, Y/N. I’ll wait for you as long as you’d like. Go get ready!”

“Will do, Mr. Bang. Thank you so so much!”

The last thing you heard after the call ended was his farewell that was mixed in with his infectious laugh, and that was when you ran towards the shower to get the thin layer of sweat that always came after a nap in the living room.

Your fingers quickly typed away a ‘did god send u down to me as my angel or smthn THANK U BANG CHAN’ before going back to rushing to pick out a nicer outfit. 

Because of him willing to pick you up, you had an extra ten minutes to get ready but your mind was still blank from the adrenaline rush. You had picked yourself out a cream-coloured pleated skirt, but you had no idea what to pair it with until you saw a familiar black sweater pushed to the back of the drawer. 

You weren’t too sure why it was familiar to you, but it was nice enough for you to use with the skirt. For a reason you couldn’t pinpoint, it hugged your body well enough, but the area where you could see the stitch of the shoulders were clearly too broad for you, falling around the middle of your upper arms. 

Strange, you thought, I don’t remember buying this but it’s so comfortable. 

And just like he said, Chan was there in ten minutes, voice heard through your apartment intercom, asking you to come downstairs. Although you tried to ignore it, you were excited just from hearing his voice through that old system speaker. 

Taking the elevator down to the lobby, you smiled seeing the boy standing around, clearly waiting for you to come down, as he kept shifting his feet. 

It was music to his ears as well when he heard you call out his name. Although he would never admit it, or so he thinks, he swore that he heard a hymn whenever ‘Chan’ spilled from your lips. But he shook that away when he reached in for a side hug. 

“Hey you.” he said, “You look awfully fresh for someone who just woke up.”

“I work my magic.” you boasted, not wanting to admit the fuss you made for him. Since Chan was a bit taller than you, not by too much (which you teased him about, but he only let it be because it was you), you held onto him as well by slinging your arm around his waist. 

And as you both walked to the parking lot at the front, stuck together like two pieces of paper with a hefty amount of glue in the middle, that was when Chan stopped right in front of his car. 

You looked at him with concern, thinking that he’d probably left something inside, “Did you forget something?”  

He paused, looking at you with the face he’d make whenever Felix did something strange. That wasn’t new, but you felt flustered when he let you go and stood in front of you, arms crossed, eyes checking out your whole body. 

You looked at him strange, not understanding what he was doing. Your hand only clutched your bag strap harder, not understanding the situation. But before you could say anything, he cut you off. 

“Is that my sweater?”

And the realization hit you. 

A few months ago, Chan had gone to your place to spend some time with you after not getting to meet you for three weeks. But of course, the two of you did not look at the weather forecast when a rainstorm dawned over the whole of Seoul. 

You insisted that Chan should not be driving in this weather in fear of a accident, but he did have to get his car to the indoor parking lot incase it began to hail. However, once he had gotten back, the umbrella you had given him was soaked and so was he, the two of you getting into a hysterical laughing fit at the state he was in. 

In all seriousness, you did quickly get him out of the clothes he was wearing and washed them, shyly looking away when he directly began to take his shirt off in the living room until you yelled “Chan! I have a bathroom!”

However, as the night passed, after he slept in the same bed as you, finding his arm around your waist in the morning to which he quickly pulled away in surprise— he left with only his jeans and socks that had been dry cleaned. 

“Oh shit, this is your sweater!” you swore, the event having replayed itself in your forgetful mind, “I’ll clean it after this and give it back to you.”

“Oh, no. You look better in it than I do.” he complimented. 

In between your reminiscing, he had clicked the car key, making the vehicle make the familiar unlocking sound and flashing lights. Running over to your side, he opened the door for you. 

“M’lady.” he offered, 

“M’Chan.” you joked, only to laugh for a bit then go in with a murmured, “Sorry that was cheesy.” 

“It was!” he admitted, yelling so you could hear him through the car glass since you closed the door already. He did his little jog over to the drivers seat and went it rather smoothly, not that you were impressed by that. 

“So, arcade?” he asked, smiling when you nodded and tapped excitedly on his dashboard. 

Once again, in ten minutes, the two of you had reached the destination, quickly running out as if the both of you were six, and not in your early 20s. 

As you ran into building, fluorescent hitting your eyes with a familiar nostalgia coming alongside them, much too familiar from the high school days of you and Chan going to another arcade that was already closed down now. 

“So, what do you want to do first?” you asked, as if you didn’t guess the answer already. 

Chan looked forward, scanning the place more and finally seeing a row of big,  bulky, metal boxes that couldn’t be missed. He pointed at them, rather cutely to add, smiling down at you. 

You gave him an excited grin back, happy that you guessed right in your head. You walked ahead, pleased to hear him tread behind you at a faster pace to catch up with you.

Drawing back the curtain, the two of you went inside and swiped the arcade card that you had because of several trips that were forced by your auntie with your little cousins. Luckily, there was still money inside. 

The recognizable ‘twinkling’ sound of the photo booth rang in both your ears, opting you to choose the frame decor, etc. 

And as the screen showed both your faces, a robotic voice was heard through the same speakers at the sides of the booth, stating ‘please move more towards the centre, thank you’ 

But if anyone were to look inside, you and Chan were already considerably close, especially since the bench space wasn’t wide at all. But you side-eyed the boy, scooting closer to him as he did the same to you. 

You felt his arm squish against yours, feeling flustered at the sudden contact. 

“Can..uh..” he trailed, “Can I put my arm around you? I.. I think it’ll make the pictures look less awkward, don’t you think?”

“Y-yeah!” you responded a bit too enthusiastically. Clearing your throat, you gave him the gentle smile that he could never hate, “Yeah. Go ahead, Chan.”

He did as he asked. Unlike the playful hug that you two had shared in your apartment lobby, this one felt more intimate, especially when you saw the screen reflecting the two of you. 

You could feel his rings dig against his cotton sweater on your body, assuming now that it was yours, comfortable enough for you to feel secure— at home. Nevertheless, you always felt that Chan was your home. 

Your eyes fixated on the screen as you moved forward to press the red button that would soon make you both take simultaneous pictures together. 

We look good together, you thought to yourself, Wait what? Shut up. 

But why did this feel different? You two had taken hundreds of photos together, varied with ridiculous, attractive, and unnecessary ones. But you swallowed that wondering lump in your throat, quickly dismissing it as you posed with Chan for each one, your vision rather blurry for a reason you couldn’t pinpoint. 

And as the twelve clicks ended, Chan stood up first. You were quite upset about the absence of his embrace, but didn’t mind it when he smiled at you like he always did,

“Let’s see the pictures.” he held his hand out for you to take, which you graciously did, feeling the pit of your stomach drop as you, as per usual, questioned what your relationship with him was at this point. 

The two pairs of feet, albeit the both of you were wearing matching shoes on accident, met their way towards the printing area. Looking at the screen which read 99% complete, Chan heard the sound of the photo paper hit the stopper that avoided the prints from falling on the ground. 

He bent down and took it, showing it to you. Naturally, your arms went around his left bicep, hugging it to look closer. Chan sucked in his breath, knowing that if he was in a cartoon right now, his brown head of hair would be sticking up in all places as a silhouette of his heart pumped dramatically out of his chest. 

It was ironic, as most of your friends would say; it was ironic how you two hugged often but got shy whenever your hands would simpy graze, it was ironic how you two were so affectionate yet were so resistant, and it was very ironic that your ‘hangouts’ weren’t dates at this point. 

He watched as you pointed at his face from top to bottom, questioning, 

“You’re not even facing the camera in most of these! Stop looking at me and look at the lens next time. Do you want to retake these?”

Your question wasn’t too hard, but you didn’t understand why Chan looked at you with such solemn eyes, his eyebrows knitted together as if he was frustrated. But the look was soon replaced with one that held adoration, but that only increased your confusion. 

“I mean.. we don’t have to retake these, Chan. What do you want to do?” 

“If you were my girlfriend, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

He didn’t know why he said that. Not a bone in his body was willing to let that out but his mind decided to play a little game of “thinking out loud”. The impulsivity of the statement made the two of your freeze in front of the photo booth.

But there was something that the both of you knew, something that neither of you wanted to admit. You had been friends for too long, had been too close for too long, but what was different now?

Why, after more than ten years of being best friends, was now the best time for you two to be together? 

But something resided within you, and in Chan as well. This was to atone for all the pain you two had experienced without one another. You and Chan always wondered why you’ve always loved, but never been in love truly. All this time, the person that was it from the start was right in front of your faces, but pent up denial never allowed it to happen. 

Until now. 

Somewhere, somehow, this was the universe’s way of telling you that today was that day. You woke up late, wore his sweater, and Chan had slipped up with his thoughts aloud. It made sense. 

So, you took a small step forward. 

It felt as if the gravity between your feet and floor was much heavier than before, especially watching Chan’s jaw clench out of nervousness, but you knew it was just you mustering up a ton of courage to finally ask, 

“Who’s stopping you from asking?” 

[imtooscaredforthis]

hello there :) i saw that requests are open, and i’ve had something on my mind so i thought i would ask! it’s okay if you have your plate full, dont worry about this at all its just teeny :]

what would you think about a survivor who was a ballet dancer before the entity’s realm? you can take this any way you want, though i’ll suggest a few things if you want framework (feel free to ignore them). bear with me im so bad at requests lol idk how to phrase them haha

if you want suggestions, could we maybe get headcanons for the survivor/reader with quentin, jake, frank, and/or danny? you can choose any of them if all is too many, or you can do whatever characters not listed that you want, i dont mind :D just kind of how they would interact, how the survivor does in trials, their habits, etc etc. whatever comes to mind.

thanks for just reading my request, i really appreciate it! your writing is lovely. have a great day <3

Of course! Thank you for such a sweet request <33

Ballet Dancer HCS w/Killers & Survivors

Quentin Smith

- Dancing was one of the few things you still remembered before being taken by the entity, it was a form of safety for you, something that reminded you of home.

- So every now and then, when you have a moment of peace, you go and dance

- It was during one of the brief resting periods between trials when Quentin found out

- Most of the survivors were gone, and he was growing bored and drowsy

- Not wanting to fall asleep, he decides to go take a walk

- And that’s when he finds you

- You’re just barley outside of the killer boundaries, just a step or two behind the tree line

- He’s awestruck and enchanted, watching you move in such an elegant manner, dancing to a silent melody

- He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do, just stands there for an extra moment or two, watching in amazement

- That is until he shifts slightly, accidentally stepping on a twig and making it crack loudly

- You’re quick to react, breaking from your routine, spinning around and preparing for whatever is out there, but then you see him

- “You’re uh- You’re um- a good dancer.” Is all that Quentin manages to say

- You let out a small sigh of relief, shaking your head at him, and making him promise not to tell anyone what he saw

Jake Park

- Jake is very observant, so he’s able to catch on quickly and see that there’s something different with you

- He knows all survivors have their strengths and weaknesses, Meg is fast and athletic, Claudette is kind and has her medical knowledge, Ace has his luck, etc.

- He can’t exactly tell what you have, though and it’s hard for him to figure out due to not knowing much about your background or where you’re from

- But there’s something about the way you move, how graceful and quiet, maybe you were street artist, like Nea

- He doubted it, though. There was still something else, something special, and he was dying to know

- It’s not until the entity gave you a pair of old, tattered ballet shoes that Jake pieces it all together

- It reminds him of the luxurious life he rejected and lived on without

- Jake doesn’t regret leaving it all behind, but he does find a bit of safety and reminisce in knowing this about you

- Eventually, when you’re out of trial, he will sit next to you at the campfire and ask about it

Frank Morrison

- Thanks to all those years of practicing and perfecting your ballet skills, you’ve been able to stay very agile and graceful on your feet, especially in trials

- And that annoys the shit out of Frank

- Why do you have to react so quickly? Why do you have to move so smoothly? Why can’t he trip you up like the others?

- It was really irritating, and it made him even more blood thirsty

- In a way, he thinks of it as some fucked up game you two play, and he’s very competitive

- Sometimes, if he was in a good mood and he caught you, you would hear him mumble the nickname he gave you “Twinkle Toes”

- “Nice try Twinkle Toes,” “Catch you later Twinkle Toes” is what you usually get as he puts you onto the sacrificial hook

- You’re usually the obsession when you go up against him, and he seems more fond and curious about you over most survivors

Danny Johnson

- Despite not being able to stalk the same way he used to, Danny knew everything about every single survivor. From likes to dislikes, to occupations, to their deepest darkest secrets, he knew it all, so of course, he finds out about you

- But it’s not in the way you think

- It was during a trial, in the chapel, when you thought you had some time to yourself

- So you decided to relax for a bit, and go through some of the routines you had learned, not even noticing that you had an audience

- Then you heard some slow claps, and you looked over to see an all too familiar ghost mask, and your heart sunk into your stomach

- He definitely snapped a few pictures and showed them to you, probably kept some to himself too

- Being the sadistic bastard he is, Danny would hang those photos over your head

- There would probably be a few times where he will raise his knife to your throat and tell you to dance for him

- “C’mon, babe. I could use a little show. Won’t you dance for me?”

- But despite taunting you, he’d secretly admire the pictures, and watching how eloquently you moved

[theseerasures]

Re: that anon who asked about the shuffle step of the themes of sacrifice

I also found the ideological shift in the volume very interesting, and I think she most interesting bits are with Team RRAYNBOW. Like I think the dynamic between Yang and Ruby and their respective missions this volume is very interesting (if maybe a bit underdeveloped, atm at least). You said a little about it with Team JOYR in Chapter 7. Do you have anymore thoughts about the "shuffle step" in regards to that?

i’m gonna admit upfront that i find this question kind of perplexing, because i don’t know what “ideological shift” it could be alluding to when imo our heroes didn’t so much pivot (or shift, or shuffle step) ideologically so much as make a series of context-specific decisions according to what they felt in the moment they could live with, or would die for (don’t make me tap the sign, etc).

what i DO think might be helpful, though, is to lay out what was at stake in each of the weighty choices/discussions our heroes took part in, from the very beginning of the Long Night to the end of volume 8, to see what (if any) throughlines persist or change. so:

Cordially Invited (7.8) to Out in the Open (7.10): our heroes are all in accord. transparency (telling the truth to Robyn) and collaboration (working with/helping Mantle) are paramount, and Ruby specifically takes steps to remedy her own wavering in that earlier in the season, by letting Oscar tell the whole truth to Ironwood. what’s key about this run, though, is that our heroes aren’t calling the shots yet. they advocate for certain actions when advising Ironwood, but they still trust him to take charge of deciding Atlas/Mantle’s fate.

Gravity (7.11): the Big Shift in terms of status quo. our heroes (JNR more implicitly) remain in accord--abandoning Mantle is the line in the sand they refuse to cross. but what does RWBY advocate for, if not Ironwood’s plan? they all agree that the best thing to do is to stand their ground, but for what? Blake and Weiss are comparatively silent on that front, but Ruby and Yang are more explicit. Ruby makes her plea about Amity--that if they hold out long enough, they can do what they always planned, and unite the world, and get help. Yang’s argument is that Huntsmen and Huntresses don’t back down from a fight. (she’s also the first person to suss out that Amity isn’t ready for launch.) this difference is going to come up later.

The Enemy of Trust (7.13): Oscar makes his last individual plea to Ironwood. his reasoning, much like Blake’s (and presumably Weiss’), is simply that abandoning Mantle is a sacrifice of such magnitude that it becomes unconscionable. it’s wrong because it’s wrong, and Ironwood’s rebuttal that it’s pointless to argue about philosophy when Salem’s right on their doorstep, is dickish, but not incomprehensible. Oscar is still looking to retain the advisory capacity that Team Unwieldy Acronym has had for the entire season, and guide Ironwood to making the right call, but that bridge has already been burned. they have to decide the fate of Atlas/Mantle now if they want to save both.

Divide (8.1): The team is no longer in accord. Ruby and Yang recognize that though they agree about Ironwood, their reasons for not abandoning Mantle are different. Ruby’s looking at the big picture, both in terms of what they have to do for the world, and what the world can do for them. Amity looks to be the only obstacle to getting both and saving everyone. Yang thinks it’s pointless. Yang didn’t want to abandon Mantle because that’s just not what you do, but she has no expectation of fighting toward any good outcome. she’s gonna do what seems more readily achievable, which is saving whatever lives can be saved. Ren and Nora split along similar lines more acrimoniously, because Ren at this point is desperate for tangible success and Nora is...just as desperate for total consuming optimism. Blake throws her lot in with Ruby, Weiss abstains, remaining the most quiet on the fate of Atlas/Mantle despite being Atlesian. Jaune and Oscar, though they go with Yang, mostly go for pragmatic reasons.

Refuge (8.2) to Midnight (8.6), Yang’s Team: the plan to help with Mantle is almost immediately derailed when the Hound kidnaps Oscar. i’ve talked about JYR’s plea to Winter in War, but that of course is not the first time that team chooses the few over the many; they do that IMMEDIATELY after Oscar is kidnapped, when Fiona calls for their help and they--without even verbally consulting with each other--go for Oscar instead. in that moment the more proximal thing they can and need to achieve becomes rescuing their friend, whose captor was still in view. but crucially: as soon as they lose Oscar in Fault, and especially after they discover the Grimm River in Amity, JYR had been on their way back to Mantle, and presumably, back to the less impossible thing to do, the thing they promised the Happy Huntresses they’d help with. running into the AceOps and Salem’s invasion throws a monkey wrench into that plan. suddenly rescuing Oscar becomes possible (though not probable)...

War (8.7), Yang’s Team: but not if Ironwood blows up the Whale, whereupon the equation changes again because now doing nothing for Oscar means leaving Oscar to certain death. tbh the confrontation on the airship is about like fifteen different things at once, because the variables keep changing and everyone is having their own argument over whether to rescue Oscar, and why. Yang’s response once she hears about the bomb is mostly you can’t; it is once again just not what Huntresses do, with some personal stakes thrown in. for the AceOps it is about the weighing of lives, and how they can’t put the mission to save Atlas on hold for one life. Jaune is the one who thinks of an idea where they might be able to do one without delaying the other (the second time this season Jaune has suggested the “go for both” option), where they would be the only ones risking their lives, and no harm comes to the greater good. only then does Ren jump in and shift the argument to caring and friendship; that is to say, after the stakes have been lowered so it’s not Oscar vs. Atlas anymore. i don’t think it takes away from his big moment, though: we know from Fault that Ren has taken Yang’s challenge of “let’s do what we can do” and run with it, and come up with “and what we can do is nothing because we’re not ready and we get everything wrong,” so him vowing to do whatever we can here is important. the point is clear: Team Hero draws their strength from their friends, and they’re willing to die for each other...but the question of if they’d let the world burn for their friend is put off for now.

Strings (8.3) to War (8.7), Ruby’s Team: in contrast to Yang’s plan faceplanting at the first hurdle, Ruby’s plan...works. they accomplish their primary objective! but they had to pay a steep price, and the only immediate consequence of that victory was entirely negative. Nora threw so much of herself into Ruby’s optimistic gamble that she now has lasting scars, and if they had never gone to Atlas Command Penny would not have been hacked (so easily; she might have been regardless). Ruby successfully put the ball in the world’s court, but that the problem: the ball is in the world’s court, and the longer it stays there the less sure she is that help will come. and it IS just about the help they’ll receive by War; Salem batting away Atlas’ hard light shields has shifted the goalposts from “hope the other Kingdoms can prepare :/” to “BLAKE’S PARENTS CAN YOU PICK US UP???” the question of Atlas or Mantle rears its ugly head for the first time since Gravity, and this is the first time Weiss is the first one to advocate, and she says we can’t leave--which, not coincidentally, is also what RWBY said to Ironwood in Gravity. May’s argument, of course, is driven by far more compassion: the need in Mantle is greater, and having finished facilitating Ruby’s (and Robyn’s) plan she’s going to do what Yang decided to do, what Joanna wanted them to do, which is fight for every last life. there’s no longer any big wheels to turn, nor any big powers to convince; all they have to do is decide what they themselves will do, and who to fight for. and Weiss finally shows her hand here. she believes in not leaving Mantle behind, but when it comes to the faces she’d fight and die for, Weiss’ are still in Atlas. Blake and Ruby are the ones to abstain this time, and notably when Ruby tries to argue that they’re all in this together it’s much less effective, because...there’s nothing left for them to do together. Ruby is out of concrete solutions.

Witch (8.9): what goes easily missed here that in retrospect is very important is...Oscar kills Hazel. (which means that an Ozcarnation killed BOTH of the Rainart twins.) we all thought he doubled back to make a sacrifice play, and he did, but not for himself. he received Hazel’s verbal consent, and Hazel would have died regardless, but the point still stands. he had to kill Hazel to neutralize Salem, to buy them the time they desperately needed. an unsettling portent for what comes later, innit? it highlights what his own kidnapping, Nora’s injuries, and Penny’s hacking already illustrates, which is that they are now risking every inch of their body and souls in this fray, and it also illuminates the other part of that, which is that by continuing to throw themselves back into this conflict, they now control the fates of other people as well. Hazel trusted Oscar to make the right call, but Oscar had to make the call.

Risk (8.11): where we ultimately land with the splitting of teams is that: Yang’s team went out to achieve the easily graspable, and they ended up forging alliances they never anticipated and dealing a devastating blow to Salem. Ruby’s team went out to achieve what should have been much more difficult, and they did, but with little palpable impact beyond the negative. what comes out and blends exquisitely with their conversation about Summer is that yes, Ruby sent out the call to warn the world, because she believed in humanity and unity, but Ruby sent out the call because she wanted help. she wanted people--say, parental figures--to save her and tell her things would be okay, and she wanted back the innocence to believe them. Ruby didn’t ask to be the face of the war against Salem, and she most certainly does not want to be in charge of it; she has lived with the material consequences of her family being the centerpiece of that war for her entire life. the Hound reveal is the final twist in the knife of Ruby’s childhood, because now the figure on the highest pedestal in Ruby’s mind has been perverted to a malevolent specter, and if that’s the case there are no more adults. THEY have to be the adults now, and look what a terrible job she’s done with that. Yang’s response is that Ruby is not alone--either in her traumatic fall into adulthood, or in her choices not panning out as expected. all they can do is the best they can in the moment, and Yang’s probably going to keep defaulting to what feels more tangible to her, but that doesn’t mean she wants Ruby to stop going for pie-in-the-sky options, either. Summer is still Yang’s hero, which means Ruby is too. what matters most is that they remain responsive to the moment, and don’t get bowled over by despair when something inevitably go off the rails.

so given all these developments, what are we to make of the plan from Creation (8.12) to The Final Word (8.14)? we start with the archetypal Third Option, as championed by Ruby and Jaune: use the Staff to save Penny and Mantle, and Atlas along the way. but the priorities of the plan--civilians first, presumably even before the Relics or the Maiden powers (though the question of one of them or a Relic is really only answered by Winter, who does not speak for Team Hero)--have Yang all over them. we have to do this for Yang isn’t just because Yang’s gone, it’s because they know it’s what Yang would have wanted, and they will respect that. they made a Ruby n Jaune style Big Plan, but when that plan fell to pieces there was no time to think of a fourth, or fifth, or sixth option that would get everyone out, so they had to improvise and double down on what they all agreed was most important. the choice between their friends or the people could no longer be deferred, or augmented, so they chose. civilians, then the Relics and the Maiden powers, then each other. and when any of them wavered--Blake, Ruby, Jaune--someone else checked them, reminded them to trust and respect what they all committed to. they’re still drawing strength from each other, still dying for each other, but they acknowledge that they are not directing just their fates with their decisions anymore. they took a huge desperate gamble to save Atlas/Mantle, and it worked, but what they gambled with was their own lives. and they made themselves make peace with that--that they’d have to do what they can, everything they can, without hoping for salvation for themselves, even from friends or family.

in the end, what comes across just from doing a close reading of these moments is that RWBY’s views on sacrifice, logic vs. sentiment, the greater vs. the few, etc can’t really be plotted on a solid line. that’s why i can’t really think of what happened this volume as a palpable shift--because so many of these choices were context and character dependent. what i DO think happened with our heroes’ ethical beliefs (or “ideology” ig) is that they were tested across a sequence of stressful and traumatic situations, and as a result they had to compromise on a few things they hoped to never have to compromise in order to shore up defenses on what they were certain they could not live without, or would die for (or both! in the case of six of them). if they have to die like every other Huntsman in history so be it, but they refuse to be so cavalier with the lives of others. none of that is meant to be definitive, however: in-universe RWBY is far from over, and Team Hero is going to get to re-litigate and reexamine these questions from lots more angles, out-of-universe...RWBY is far from over, and the point of the show is not to provide an ethical rubric against which the audience can judge themselves and the characters. there are things--like y’know. genocide--that this show will always consider to be beyond the pale, but in terms of grayer complex questions it is content to simply feel out what is and is not allowable in each particular instance, without trying to resolve all options into One Correct Option.

because sometimes you do just have to sit with the discomfort of there not being one right choice or one golden rule, and sometimes you are awash in the consequences of not only your own actions but the actions of others. and then you have to keep going.

[thechekhov]

So glad you decided to play Undertale! I think it would really suit you so I’m so happy you got into it! Could I have your thoughts about the game? I would LOVE to hear them. I’m ALL for long essays and rants, that’s my jam, but even just a small review from you would make me ecstatic!

Alright alright alright alright. 

I am ecstatic that someone asked because I have a lot to say AS ALWAYS. 

I’m gonna try to keep this readable, I swear. Will add pictures in between to keep things interesting. 

However, due to the length this will SURELY achieve, AND due to spoilers (and yes, laugh at me all you want, the game has been out for 5 years) I’ll put this under a cut. Read at your own (f)risk.

Metagaming - the game plays YOU

When I first started Undertale, I ‘knew’ these things:

there’s a stabby one with a knife, their name is chara

there’s a flower everyone hates

something something sans something something

and the last, and perhaps most important thing

you can spare your enemies to avoid killing them

The thing is. The THING IS. 

I did not realize how pervasive this strategy was. My thought at first was ‘okay, so I don’t have to kill EVERYONE.’

I had no idea that the reality was that I didn’t have to kill anyone.

I’m sure many others have already said this, but Undertale kind of changes the way you think about other games. It forces to you examine simply fighting your way through the RPG by introducing completely non-murder-y ways to resolve issues. This conversation-based combat style is not the first of its kind, I’m sure, but it’s also incredibly well done. It ties into the story, it ties into your decisions.

It ties into your decisions SO MUCH that it changes everything else in the outcome.

Undertale is a game well known for breaking the 4th wall. However, it does so in a strangely eerie, heart-wrenchingly real way. It teaches us that there are other solutions to conflicts - and it really... it really TEACHES us, you know?

Which is funny because to be honest, it took me a while to get the lesson.

(You may already be fully aware of this but yes, my first True Neutral Route was extremely organic. I legitimately had no idea that there was even more than one ending. I was just stumbling about er... killing. Out of habit.)

The beauty of this is that the game drives home that point even more effectively because I was fully unaware of my own bias. I had assumed that some enemies would require killing - DESPITE TORIEL SPECIFICALLY TELLING ME TO TALK TO THEM, and the entire Ruins tutorial being about Mercy. I killed the Dummy on accident (granted, it was due to me pressing the key too fast a few times) and didn’t think much of Toriel’s disapproval. I killed a few monsters because I saw my level was low and decided to automatically grind a little bit. 

By the time I got to Toriel, I was still not comfortable with the mechanic. I knew I could Spare her somehow - after all, she was a kind monster, and clearly an important character - but the Spare option didn’t yield promising results the first few times I chose it. I ran out of patience and decided that maybe... maybe it was like pokemon! 

Maybe I had to get her health down to a certain level before she would allow me to pass through.

Funny thing though.... you know what happens if you attack Toriel one too many times? Even if she has most of her health left? 

Yeah uh... it activates that one-hit-KO thing from No Mercy Route.

So of course, what happened? I hit her one too many times... and killed her! And of course, immediately panicked and reset. 

I got back to my previous save, Spared Toriel PROPERLY this time, and walked out of the ruins only to be confronted with my own reliance on the magical ‘redo’ button which was... apparently... not that magical.

Because it WASN’T a clean redo. Flowey apparently remembered. 

The idea that the game would KNOW about my previous attempts beyond the save file snapped me out of my casual Undertale playthrough. I realized that something was up - this game was not going to be like the others.

I think it was from this point on that I tried to be more careful, but again - I still hadn’t quite gotten the memo about not killing. I took down a few monsters around Snowdin. And when I got to Papyrus, I grew frustrated about not being able to beat him (I ended up losing several times and coming back to try again) and went off to grind SOME MORE because I figured that could raise my HP and increase my chances of holding off long enough to Spare him. 

(The incredible thing about this game is that actually, raising your level gives you only a slight advantage. You can be level 1 and carrying no items, and as long as you’re relatively proficient at dodging the bullet hell style projectiles you will have no issues.) 

Anyway, the point is that I realized I could spare the big monsters and did so readily - but I didn’t bother to spare many of the smaller ones. 

I figured it didn’t matter. 

And then I successfully evaded Undyne, gave her a cup of water, etc... and then went to her house to meet Papyrus, fully expecting her to befriend me anyway. 

And you know what happened?

“She said she won’t hang out with a murderer.“

I think that probably hit me the hardest at that point in the game. 

I had a bit ‘....oh’ moment at that point because I realized that the game would punish me for killing even the ‘not-important’ civilians of the Underground. It wasn’t about just sparing the ‘boss monsters’. My actions had consequences beyond just the ‘elite’ characters that we all tend to focus on.

Because yes, it made sense. It wasn’t about just Undyne - why WOULD she randomly be my friend after I killed tons of living beings?

From there on, I spared everyone, but didn’t reset. I decided to see how it would unravel.

The thing I want to talk about, which is a little difficult, is that...

It took me that long to learn that kindness was the answer. And that, in itself, ends up being a metaphor. 

It’s difficult to be kind if you have not been show how to be.

It’s difficult to change the way you behave (in a game or out of it) if all you know is using other methods.

It was hard enough to spare Toriel before I realized I had to just be very patient and trust that her attacks wouldn’t hit - though at first I thought she would just kill me! 

It was hard to avoid Papyrus’ attacks and I had to die several times before I successfully got through it. 

It was near impossible to fight Undyne because I legitimately had no idea Fleeing was an option. I struggled for ages at her stage, and I had to ask for help to understand what I could do.

And that’s actually honestly very true to life as well.

Being kind takes risk. Being kind takes effort. And sometimes, being kind means asking others HOW to be kind. 

When you choose to be kind, you risk being hurt, and you risk being trapped (Toriel). When you choose to be kind, you need to expand a lot more energy to succeed (Papyrus). When you choose to be kind, you need to sometimes reach out to others to show you how to properly do it (Undyne).

The rest of the playthrough probably went about as you expect. I completed the game, didn’t kill any Boss Monsters, fought to the end and... got that really unsatisfying Neutral Ending which felt strangely bittersweet. 

And of course, after I was done, I was prompted to go back and do a proper Pacifist Run. Which I did. I learned about the background of Determination, about Chara and Asriel... and about how everything came to be the way it was.

The thing that gets me the most about this game is how it serves as a direct parallel to how we use videogames. In fact, Undertale is a videogame... about videogames. 

Chara appears to be a direct metaphor for the people that use videogames to escape - to cope with whatever happened to them in The Overworld. Bad family life, or bad relationships or whatever we suffer - escapism through games is not, in itself, a new theme. 

Chara arrived in Undertale by dropping themself down a hole in the mountain, perhaps even seeking to end their life. They dropped into a world which offered them comfort and companionship, a new family and a new life - but in the end, their nature was destructive because their means to finding a solution inadvertently used other people as fodder. Asgore, Asriel - they used everyone else to complete their plans. It wasn’t about forming connections - it was about Completing the Quest. 

I wonder - did Chara even HAVE access to a MERCY option? 

Was their world one without the option of sparing someone? Did they only have the choice of acting - and was Mercy in the hands of whoever attacked them? I wonder how difficult it might have been for them. I wonder how that, in itself, shaped their perception of the world. 

I wonder if that’s why, during the No Mercy run, people recognize you as Chara? If they come back and attach themselves to your resonating DETERMINATION?

If this is true, was MERCY perhaps created later, brought into existence once Asriel himself made the choice to NOT fight, to turn back and flee, even after being attacked by humans in the Overworld? 

(It would be a nice parallel to Asgore DESTROYING the Mercy option when you enter the fight with him...)

...

In the end, I think Undertale is about many things, including video games. 

But it’s also hurting - and being hurt. 

It’s about how trauma can shape us, how we deal with feeling grief, and loss, and depression - and not being able to feel anything.

It’s about how we focus on goals and use DETERMINATION to keep going - even when whatever it is that’s driving us no longer has any SOUL. 

It’s about how our action have consequences, but they also carry the weight of a choice, and how powerful those choices are, and how powerless we feel when we aren’t given a choice - not to fight back, nor show mercy. 

I think that’s probably the reason this game resonated with so many people. It really brings something we love about videogames to the forefront - that ability to fight back, to have full and total control of our own lives...

And it also shows us how having that endless loop of repetitive grinding and fighting with zero consequences can lead to an incredible hollowness and make us numb to how we interact with real-life people. 

Anyway. 

Good game. 

[bqstqnbruin]

Always be my plus one - part 3

Ok, look, it's 4 am, there are going to be typos, and we're just going to have to deal with it. I also tried to find a gif that was Tyson and Cale but I couldn't find one in the gif insert thing on here so I just went with this one (it feels weird to change it up but like, oops)

I make no promises that you aren't going to be mad at me for this part so have fun !

This is shorter than the last part, coming in at around 5k words.

The only warnings I have here are implied sex.

Translations for the Italian in here: "tu sei uno stronzo" - you're an ass(hole)

stronzino - little asshole

Also want to thank @justjosty @zinka8 @hockeylvr59 @hockeywocs anons and I'm sure I'm forgetting people for helping me write this part but ily all I'm just dumb and tired

Read the previous part here!

Series masterlist

____________________

Valentine’s Day

The Feast Day of St. Valentine is traditionally celebrated in the Western Catholic Church on February 14, to honor the patron saint of love. Though not traditionally celebrated as a Catholic holiday, millions of people celebrate the day of love with those who mean the most to them. While pessimists of the day say it’s a ‘holiday made up by greeting card companies,’ approximately 190 million Valentine’s Day cards are sent in the United States alone, not including cards given by school children to their classmates. Couples enjoy the holiday with a romantic night out, presents, flowers, chocolates, etc., while those who don’t have someone or don’t care do whatever they want without the pressure of living up to a holiday that doesn’t mean very much in the grand scheme of things.

=============

February 12, 2022

“Where are you going tonight?” Matthew’s voice came through his younger sister’s phone. He had called early in the week to see if Anne could babysit Harper so he and Stephanie could do something for Valentine’s Day without having to shell out an extravagant amount of money on a sitter.

“I’m, uh,” Anne hesitates, “going out with Tyson. Sorry.” She hears Matthew let out a sigh on the other end. “Hey, stronzo, why don’t you ask Lucy? Her and Jason never do anything on Valentine’s Day.”

Matthew starts talking about how the last time he asked Lucy last minute to watch his daughter, despite their girls being best friends, she ended up going on a fifteen-minute rant. While Anne gets her heels on, staring at herself in the mirror and admiring the floor-length, red dress she had on the slit going up the side for no one but herself, Matthew continues to tell her about how his twin goes on and on about needing a schedule at all times, how she can’t just drop everything in a moment’s notice because he wants to do something with his wife.

“Hey, Matthew,” she cuts him off, trying to shrug her coat on, “Why didn’t you ask Lucy or Sebby after I said no earlier this week?”

“Because I didn’t think you actually had plans.”

“Again, tu sei uno stronzo.”

“I am not an ass!” he detests.

“Fine, you’re a stronzino, happy?” Anne hears him stammer again, not letting him get a word in, “I have to go, I’ll talk to you later, ok? Ask Ma, Dad’s off in Florida right now so she would probably love to have Harper for the night.”

He lets out another sigh, Stephanie’s voice coming through in the background despite Anne’s inability to understand what she was saying. “Fine. Have fun with Tyson. I don’t need another niece or nephew around Halloween, though, ok?”

“Don’t be gross,” she says, hanging up and finally heading out the door.

Her cousin Adriana was getting married to her soon-to-be wife, Izzy. Her family had no idea that she was the only one who still talked to them, her mother having a fight with her brother after their parents died when Anne and her siblings were younger and vowing to never talk to him again. So far, the stubbornness that seems to run through her mom’s blood going strong since it had been over a decade since she had last seen her brother. Anne was invited to Uncle Frankie’s daughter’s wedding, but no one else in her family.

Adriana and Izzy had this Valentine’s Day-themed wedding, everyone asked to wear red or pink in theme with the holiday, Anne not doubting that there would be paper hearts and cut-out cupids as the decor. The wedding gift she bought them, one of the first things she found on their registry that Anne could afford, was shipped to the apartment they already shared two weeks ago, Anne just needing to remember the card.

She was fully prepared to just sit in the corner with a bunch of people she didn’t know and watch as her cousin got married to the love of her life. Anne wasn’t sure that that side of her family would recognize her after how many years, guaranteeing her to spend her time on the sideline.

Anne slips into the back of the church, seeing no one she knew or recognized to even go up to and sit with them. Everyone was dressed in red, pink, and black. A bit too much for her own taste, but at least she looked good in red and would have worn the color anyway. ‘Note to self, no themed weddings,’ Anne thinks, not particularly fond of the lack of color or real choice that everyone had in figuring out what to wear.

A blonde boy in a red suit walks by her, too far past her to get a good look at him. There was something about him that caught her attention. Anne knew that walk, but she had no idea where she knew it from. It didn’t stop her from admiring him from afar, though, the short blonde hair and the obviously fit physique under the suit captivated her for whatever reason, leaving her practically unable to pay attention to the ceremony in front of her. Not that she cared, at this point she was just there to enjoy the free food she knew would be good at the reception later.

Anne sat at the table against the wall, her cousin not bothering to make a seating chart and just leaving it up to the guests to sit where they pleased. That meant she didn’t have to talk to anyone she didn’t want to, being virtually left alone at a wedding where she knew no one.

“Anne?” a familiar voice snaps her out of the trance she fell into watching Ana’s sister and brother-in-law, Catie and Danny dancing with their two daughters, remembering seeing their pictures on Facebook when they were born, not realizing how much they had grown.

She turns to the man in the red suit who had her attention throughout the ceremony. “Cale?” she smiles at him, not sure how the two had missed they would be at the same wedding this weekend. Since New Year's Eve, the two of them had been texting, calling, FaceTiming, they had hung out, spent the night with each other, Cale insisting he buy her dinner at least once a week. The only reason they weren’t dating each other was because neither of them had said they were. They both said they were busy this weekend, but who would have thought they would end up at the same place. “What are you doing here?”

“Izzy’s brother and I grew up playing hockey together. I grew up with her. What are you doing?” he asks her, taking the seat next to her.

“Ana’s my cousin. Her dad is my mom’s older brother.”

Cale smiles at her, Anne’s heart racing at the sight of it. “So I get to meet your family?”

Anne shakes her head. “I’m the only one here,” she tells him, explaining the family drama that went on between Frankie and Teresa.

Cale looks down at his lap, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his suit jacket. The red bowtie, red pants, red jacket even against the black shirt were so much Anne couldn’t tell if his cheeks were red because of the reflection of his clothes or for another reason. “Tyson’s met your family, hasn’t he?”

She nods, taking his hand in hers. “I told you, Tyson and I are just friends. I needed someone to come with me to a family thing, so he came with me.” Cale nods, not entirely sure that something wasn’t up with her and Tyson. Something was off, there was something he was sure Anne was leaving out, but he wasn’t sure. “Hey, I’ve seen Tyson, what, three times since New Year's? All of them when I was with you. I like you, Cale.”

Cale leans over for a kiss, his hand grazing Anne’s thigh, sending a shiver down her spine. “How about we dance like we did on New Year's?” he asks, standing from the seat, shrugging off the red jacket before he extended his hand out to her.

She rolls her eyes, getting up with him anyway. “I told you then, too, that I don’t like dancing.”

“And yet,” he says, pulling her close, his hand finding the small of her back while he presses his forehead against hers, gazing into her eyes, “you danced with me all night then, and you got up to dance with me tonight.”

Anne laughs, knowing he was right, burying her face in his shoulder, swearing she heard some camera’s clicking, probably the wedding photographer hanging around somewhere and taking pictures of the guests dancing.

“I know I have to say this about the brides when they come in,” Cale whispers in her ear, “but you are the most beautiful girl here.”

Anne could feel herself blushing, her mind flashing back to New Year’s Eve when Tyson told her she looked beautiful. He seemed so genuine saying it, Anne thinking back and not sure if he meant it or was actually pretending. But with Cale, she knew. Cale meant it. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she tells him, ghosting his lips before kissing him.

Being with Cale felt fine. Not perfect, but fine. It was right, but not correct, and Anne couldn’t figure out why.

Everyone starts clearing off the dance floor, the bridal party getting ready to come in. Cale takes Anne’s hand and leads her back to the table where he left his jacket, some other people finding their home base at the same table. Cale knew one of the men at the table, probably from their little hockey group that involved Izzy’s brother. The bridesmaids and bridesmen, as the DJ put it, started coming in, Cale leaning back with his arm slung around the back of Anne’s chair. She leaned back into him, his fingertips dancing up and down her arm as they watched everyone come in.

They watched Ana and Izzy dance their first one as wives, Anne’s stomach starting to make noise as they waited for the food to come.

Cale leans over, nervous about what he was about to whisper in her ear. “Are you hungry for food or maybe something more?”

Anne felt her entire body go numb at his words. They had been seeing each other for a month and a half already, so was what he was insinuating really that strange of an idea? “That depends.”

“On?” he asks, nibbling on her ear before kissing the skin right behind it, losing any sense of care over who at their table was potentially watching.

“On how long you think we need to wait before we can slip out without it being rude?”

Cale inhaled sharply, wishing he could say right now. “At least until they cut the cake. Unless,” he says, his hand moving up her thigh, slowly in case she decided she wanted it to stop, “Unless you wanted to try to find somewhere to sneak away to now.”

“Not for our first time,” she tells him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “And not with my family around,” she laughs.

“I’m fine with that,” he tells her, kissing her. “Your place or mine, though?”

“Well, I drove myself here.”

“And I got a ride.”

Anne smiles, crossing her legs in hopes that whatever she felt would be stifled by that simple action. “So it looks like it’s going to be mine.”

They spent the rest of the night waiting for the moment the cake was cut so they could leave as planned, Cale’s hand never leaving her leg unless he really needed both hands to do something.

Anne could feel her heart racing as she watched Ana and Izzy smash their cake in each other’s face, Anne looking over to Cale and smiling. “You wanna go?” she asks, her keys already out of her bag and in her hand.

Cale drags her out without saying a word, Anne leading him to her car. He walks over to the driver’s side, his arms wrapped around her waist with her back pressed against her car. “You’re sure about this?” he asks her, his eyes flicking between hers and her lips.

“Yeah,” she says, kissing him before he opens the door for her. She couldn’t wait to get home, sure she broke a few traffic laws as she sped back to her apartment with Cale sitting next to her in the passenger seat, his leg shaking the entire time.

They got to the elevator, Cale leaning against her against the wall with his lips pressed against hers, Anne’s hands already working to unbutton his shirt. Cale’s kisses trailed down her jaw to her collarbone, his grip tightening on her waist.

Anne pulled away to lead him down the hallway, practically running, partially due to anticipation for what they were about to do, and because Anne could feel a breeze on her back, indicating that Cale had already unzipped her dress. That, coupled with the fact that Cale’s shirt was already open, his jacket in his free hand, Anne had no desire for any of her neighbors to be given the chance to see her and however Cale was to her already getting naked before closing the door.

As soon as she unlocked her door, Cale had her turned back around, kicking the door closed as he carried her to her bedroom, Anne able to feel everything about him against her body. Cale laid her down on her bed, his lips never leaving hers as he positioned himself over her, sliding her dress off while she did the same with his shirt. Anne’s breath hitched at the sight of him, his body perfect while he stared her down, the first time she saw the typically innocent boy she had been seeing with a mischievous grin covering his face, his eyes darkening at the thought of doing what they had both been wanting to do all night.

“You’re sure about this?” he asks one more time.

Anne nods, taking his face in her hands. “Yes, Cale. I’m sure.”

=============

February 13, 2022

Anne woke up the next morning, the events of the night before rushing back despite finding the space he had occupied in her bed empty. Her dress was on the floor, Cale’s red bowtie somehow having ended up on her night stand. Maybe he left it there as an excuse to see her again, making a mental note to put it in the living room so she would remember it the next time she saw him.

He had slipped out at some point that morning, Anne playing the voicemail that he left her while she slipped on a t-shirt to cover herself. “Hey, Anne. Sorry, I couldn’t stay, but morning skate was calling. I,” she hears him sigh, knowing he had a stupid grin on his face for whatever it was he was about to say, “I can’t wait to have another night like last night with you.”

It was her turn to have the stupid smile on her face as Cale continues, “Um, anyway, I’ve got something going on with JT and some of the other guys tomorrow for Valentine’s Day, a, uh, charity thing? I think? So would you be free this weekend for a proper date for the holiday? You know, not as crowded, not as much pressure, ideally the same outcome, if you’ll allow it? Oh, hey Tyson,” she hears him say, figuring that he was calling her on the way into the rink despite her being unable to hear Tyson. “Yeah, I’m planning Valentine’s Day with Anne. No, not tomorrow night, this weekend. Uh, Anne, I’ve gotta go, but let me know about, say, Friday night? Alright, talk to you later. Bye.”

Valentine’s Day date with Cale? Part two, more like, but still. Anne liked the sound of that.

“So, uh,” Tyson starts, already dreading what he was about to hear from his teammate given what he had heard him say into his phone. “You and Anne?”

“Yeah,” Cale breathes out, chuckling at the thought of what happened last night. “We, um,” Cale couldn’t even get a full sentence out, acting like a child who just got the toy he had been begging his parents for on Christmas morning. He couldn’t remember the last time he was that happy. “We spent the night together last night. I left from her place this morning.”

More of their teammates were filtering into the locker room, looking at Cale’s face turn bright red while Tyson stood there with him looking like he just about wanted to die. “Ok, but did you spend the night, or spend the night?” Ryan asks.

Cale started to stammer out nonsense, not really wanting to divulge the private details of his and Anne’s night despite the guys teasing him and congratulating him for what he wasn’t saying.

“Guys, keep it civil. Anne wouldn’t want us talking about any of this,” Tyson pipes in, Cale letting out a sigh of relief as the guys disperse to get ready for morning skate.

“Thanks,” Cale tells him, going off on his own to get his gear on.

JT appears by Tyson’s side, a stupid smirk on his face. “Would Anne not want us talking about anything, or would you not want us talking about anything?”

“Well, Anne definitely wouldn’t.”

“Oh, come on, we both know Cale would never.”

“Doesn’t mean I want him to have the chance.”

“You’re treading in deep water, dude,” JT sighs.

Tyson looks at him, hating that he knew what he meant. He had barely seen Anne, despite her brother’s texts from the night before asking if Anne really couldn’t watch Harper because of the two of them going out, Tyson going along with the lie just in case. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“It seems like you don’t know what you want from Anne, either,” JT shrugs. “But Cale does, and he got it.”

=============

February 14, 2022

12 hour shifts were the only shifts Anne knew. And they were the shifts that Anne detested the most. She was fine the first ten hours, but the last two always seemed to suck more than anything, leaving her exhausted for the rest of the day, into the night, depending on when she got home in the first place.

All she wanted to do was order dinner from the Thai place down the street, having it delivered despite her really not needing to since it was within walking distance, plop herself on her couch and watch whatever reality TV Lucy had texted her that she thought Anne would like. Anne knew she would turn it off after a single episode and switch to Food Network, but at least she could tell her sister she tried.

Anne walks to her apartment, dragging her feet to her door when she sees someone sitting on the ground, his head down looking at his phone. “Tyson?”

He gets up, grabbing the two bags he had with him as the smell of food filled her nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my fake girlfriend,” he says, raising the bags while Anne opens the door to let him in.

“I’m confused,” she tells him as he sets everything down.

“Well, Matthew called me on Saturday asking if the two of us were sure we couldn’t watch his daughter, and I figured he might as well have some sort of photographic evidence as proof of us spending Valentine’s Day together,” Tyson explains. “So, I figured I’d go all out: flowers, dinner, and a present. You know, really convince them that we’re together.”

Anne stares at him for a second, not sure why her heart was racing at the thought of him going out of his way to keep up this facade with her family. “I don’t think I like that you and Matthew are so ‘buddy-buddy.’ Or that fact that he didn’t believe me the first two times I told him I was busy on Saturday night. And I thought that you guys had a charity thing tonight?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Tyson asks, handing her the container of food as she joined him on the couch, the Thai food she was planning on ordering right in front of her. “We have a groupchat. Yeah, it’s me, Sebby, Lucy, and Matthew.”

Anne scoffs, rolling her eyes at his failed attempt at a joke. “And let me guess: you gossip about me the entire time.”

“Actually,” he says, his mouth full of food, “you never come up. They think of me as the fourth sibling. The name Anne means nothing.”

Anne laughs, Tyson admiring the way her eyes closed as her smile grew. God, he wished he had gotten to her before Cale did. Why did he have to leave her alone at all on New Year’s Eve? If he were by her side the entire night like he had wanted to be, then he wouldn’t have to pretend to be her boyfriend, he could actually be getting somewhere with her.

“Hm,” Anne hums, swallowing her mouthful of food. “You said flowers and a present. When do I get those?”

“You can get them now on the condition that I can take a video to send to your siblings,” he offers, pulling out his phone and pushing the bag with the flowers and gift behind him. Anne rolls her eyes, smiling and nodding while he starts the video. He hands her the card first. “Read it.”

Anne pulls it out of the envelope, glitter getting everywhere and making her cringe, knowing that it would be impossible to get off her scrubs later on. It was covered with roses and hearts, bringing her right back to the wedding that weekend. “No one has ever made me feel like this. To the woman I love: Happy Valentine’s Day,” Anne reads, feeling a lump forming in her throat. The card was so corny, a little too corny for her taste, but coming from Tyson, she didn’t know why she loved it. She shakes her head, laughing at Tyson. “I love you, too,” she lies.

Tyson swallows hard at her words, wishing she meant them, pulling out the flowers from the bag and handing them to her. She looks down at the flowers, trying to figure out what they are before looking up at him. “Queen Anne’s Lace?”

“Queen Anne’s Lace for my Queen, Anne,” he tells her, cringing at his own words.

Anne giggles, placing them in her lap. “And my favorite flowers, anyway. Thank you, Tyson.”

“Wait, I have one more thing,” he says, hoping that the camera wasn’t shaking too much while he reached for the gift he bought her.

He hands it to her, a small red box wrapped with a gold bow. She unties it carefully, opening the box and gasping at the sight of it. A golden necklace with a white enamel heart as the charm, a golden pattern outlining the heart. “Tyson, it’s,” she starts, unable to find the words, “it’s beautiful.”

He stops the recording, figuring he had enough to hit send to his ‘girlfriend's' siblings. “Let me put it on you,” he says, Anne turning around and moving her hair out of the way. “I thought you would like it.”

Anne studies his face, the smile plastered on it despite her knowing that he didn’t mean it. “You didn’t have to do this.”

He shrugs, grabbing his food off the table and staring at it now in his lap. “It was fun. I’ve never had a girlfriend who I could buy presents like this for. I mean, I still don’t, but I have you.”

“Oh, come on. You, Tyson Jost, have never had a girlfriend? Look at you,” she says, praying that she was careful with the words she chose. “You’re gorgeous, you’re sweet, you’re funny, you get along with everyone you meet.”

Tyson hated hearing Anne go on about him, knowing that she was just saying it as a friend instead of something more. He scoffs, trying to save face from whatever pain or other emotion he was feeling. “Come on,” he says, not believing her anyway.

“I’m serious!” she insists, reaching up and starting to fidget with her new necklace. “Any girl would be lucky to have you as her boyfriend. I’m lucky to even have you as a fake boyfriend.”

Tyson nods, turning his body to face the TV instead of Anne. “So what are we watching?” he asks, changing the subject and putting his feet up on the table, Anne doing the same.

“Whatever’s on Food Network?” she suggests, holding the remote in the air pointed at the TV.

The two of them settle in, Tyson not paying attention to the show she had turned on. “Hey, what’s that?” Tyson asks, racing over to the red fabric that was on Anne’s coffee table.

“Oh,” Anne blushes, taking it from Tyson. “This is Cale’s. He, um, let it the other night,” she explains, Tyson watching her turn his teammates bowtie over in her hands.

“So you and Cale are doing pretty well?” he asks. Anne looks at him, not sure if she really wanted to tell him about it. “Come on, we’re friends. You can talk to me about anything.”

“I mean,” she says, putting down the bowtie on the table, not taking her eyes off of it. “We’re together? I think?” Tyson already hated that he even offered to listen to her talk about her and his teammate. “I like him. A lot. And I know he likes me, but,” Anne lets out a sigh, not sure where to even take her sentence.

“But, what?” Tyson asks.

“I don’t know,” she shakes her head, looking confused. “Everything is great, but it’s, I,” she stammers. “Something is off, and I can’t figure out what.”

Tyson stares at her for a second, trying to figure out what to say. “It’s probably just that it’s new,” he shrugs. “Everything seems weird when you’re still figuring it out. You and Cale will be ok,” he tells her, hating hearing those words come out of his mouth.

=============

February 19, 2022

Anne stared at herself in the mirror, the black turtleneck she borrowed from her sister coupled with a beige skirt and black tights on her as she got ready for her date with Cale. He was bound to show up any minute, promising each other they weren’t going to do gifts due to a general lack of time on both ends. She didn’t believe that he wasn’t going to get her a gift, however, sneaking out to the bakery down the street and buying some pastries that the two of them would like, giving them an excuse to both show up back at her apartment. And if he didn’t give her a gift, then she got the pastries all to herself.

If not, she could share them with Tyson, who had been showing up at her place or asking her to go to his place any free chance they both had.

She heard Cale knocking at her door, Anne rushing as fast as she could in her heels to answer. Cale was standing there, a black crewneck similar to her own turtleneck, paired with dark jeans, black boots, and a grey coat. Cale kisses her hello, one hand behind his back with the other resting on her hip. “Every time I see you I don’t think you could get more beautiful, and yet, you do.”

“You’re cheesy,” she jokes as he kisses her forehead, Cale laughing against her skin. “But you,” Anne says, resting her hands on his chest, “get more handsome every time I see you, too. And, you’re hiding a present behind your back, aren’t you, even though we said no presents.”

Cale laughs, closing the door behind him. “Maybe I saw this and had to get it for you,” he admits, kissing her again and holding up the bag near her head.

“Should I open it now or should I do it later when we come back here?” she flirts, holding the bag in her hand.

“Oh, we’re coming back here?” he teases her, trailing kisses down her neck.

“I might have gotten some dessert for us so we had an excuse to relive last Saturday. Plus, you left your bowtie here,” she gestures to it, still sitting on her table, “And I was thinking maybe you wear that tonight instead of keeping it off?”

Cale raises his eyebrow at her, a silly smile on his face. “And what else would I be wearing?”

Anne shrugs, pretending to act innocent. “I was thinking only the bowtie,” she tells him, feeling his grip around her tighten at the thought.

Cale kisses her again, unable to keep his hands off the girl in front of him. If he could, he would forget dinner altogether and just go straight to dessert, but he knew Anne wasn’t that kind of girl, and he wasn’t about to force her into anything she didn’t want. “Hey, I like that necklace you’re wearing,” he says, twirling the charm around in his fingers. “The heart is perfect for Valentine’s Day.”

She reaches up and takes his hand in hers. “Thanks. My sister got it for me a few years ago for my birthday,” she lies. She couldn’t tell him that Tyson had gotten it for her for Valentine’s Day.

[anxiousstark]

S3 18 | The Insatiable Divine Move

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE | KO-FI

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall

Word count: 6908

Warnings: Mentions of  injuries, blood, stabs, drugs, death, sex, handjobs, dirty talk, clothing humping, swearing (always), etc.

A/N: Hello there. I’m back. Thank you so much for understanding that I couldn’t upload these last two weeks. But here I am. Two chapters in one and a little surprise at the end. Stiles and Y/N are starting to explore their relationship in other aspects. Enjoy <3.

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

Scott helped Stiles walk back to the living room as Noshiko stood there. "Do you recognize me, hmm?"

Stiles nodded his head as Kira appeared, begging her mother to stop. "It's okay." He stepped closer to the woman. "I'm the one who asked her to come."

"You're the one who's going to get stabbed with swords." She glanced at her mother. "Mom, don't do this to him."

"It's already done." Her eyes were focused on Stiles. I was confused by what was going on, until two shadows appeared, grabbing Stiles's from the back of his ear. I quickly tried to step forward, but Melissa and Scott kept me in place, even if I begged them to let me go. I needed to help him. I needed to save him. "Look behind his ear."

I didn't hesitate to fall onto my knees, my hands rubbing Stiles's back while the others looked behind his ear. "It worked." My brother sighed.

"So, I'm actually me?" His body shook while he glanced at Kira's mother.

"More you than the Nogitsune."

"Can The Oni find him?"

"Tomorrow night. It's too close to dawn now."

"Can they kill him?"

"It depends on how strong he is."

"What about Lydia? Why would he take her?" I intervened in the conversation.

Noshiko glanced at me. "He would only take her for an advantage."

"You mean her power?" It was my brother's turn to ask.

"The power of a Banshee."

Stiles's body continued shaking. "I will bring something warm." Getting up from the ground, I walked near-by Noshiko, her hand clenching my arm. I furrowed my eyebrows while meeting her gaze.

"You were stronger and more determined than me." She made a gesture to Stiles, letting me know that she was talking about how she couldn't save Rhys. But was Stiles safe? "However, onis are powerful, and something will end up happening."

"Then, I will try my best," I whispered. "But no one is touching Stiles anymore." I flashed my eyes. "They will have to get over my dead body." She smirked, nodding her head.

"Hey," I swirled around. "Hide those ice blue for me." I laughed, and maybe I looked crazy at that moment as tears fell down my cheek at the same time. But that was the first thing I've heard coming from the real Stiles in a long time.

Scott opened the door of Noah's office, waiting for him to turn around and see the person he was so desperate to find. "If I could just find my keys." I had a little smile on my face as Mr Stilinski muttered those words to himself.

"In your coffee cup." Noah quickly swirled around as the unmistakable voice of his son resonated through the room. "You always drop them in your empty cup."

Noah blinked a couple of times as he tried to guess if the young boy standing in front of him was his son. The real one, not the one possessed y an old spirit fed by vengeance and chaos.

My brother and I nodded our heads, letting him know that it was him. The older Stilisnki didn't hesitate to drop his coat to the floor, almost tripping with his chair as he ran to his son. They both engulfed each other, breezing in. They swayed from side to side, clutching each other.

"Hey dad," Stiles's voice was deeper from all the crazy things that have been going on. But we could discern the happiness he felt to be back.

When they both parted, Noah glanced at my brother once again. "Is it over?"

I sighed. "Not yet."

We explained what had happened during the last hours. Especially, highlighting the fact that Lydia was missing. She was probably taken by Void. Mr Stilinski had informed us that they had an APB out on Lydia's car. Every unit on the road was looking for her. However, there was nothing more we could do. Void had taken Lydia for a reason. "Okay. What would a Nogitsune need with a Banshee?"

"I don't know," Stiles shook his head as he rested his butt on his father¡s desk. "Lydia's pretty good at finding dead bodies. Maybe he needs to find a body?"

"Scott," Noah glanced at my brother once again. "You know more about this than all of us." I gripped Scott's hand, knowing he felt pressured by all the things we were going through. "You said you got the whole story from Noshiko?"

"I was there too," I added, nodding my head. "But that happened during World War II. Like 70 years ago."

"Wait. What did you say?" Stiles asked while his gaze was lost.

"Noshiko told us about the internment camp..." My brother answered.

"No, before that." His eyes squinted as he looked at his father. "You said, the whole story." Scott and I nodded our head as he seemed to recall something. "There's a girl at Eichen House. Her name's Meredith. I think she might be able to help."

Sheriff had informed Parrish to call Eichen House. As soon as he did, Parrish entered Noah's office where we were waiting. "Sheriff, Meredith Walker."

"She's still there?"

"Yeah, but they moved her to the Closed Unit."

"Why?" The hazel-eyed boy asked.

"They said behavioural issues."

"What issues?"

"She wouldn't stop screaming." Both boys glanced at me as I bit my lower lip.

I hummed to myself as I sat on a chair. My phone rested on top of the table as I scrolled down through pictures, trying to distract myself. However, Stiles who had been sleeping got up from the couch as if he couldn't breathe.

I ran to him, grabbing his arms to steady him. "You okay?" I heard my brother asking what happened, but I ignored him as I was focused on Stiles.

"What happened? How long was I out?" His breathing was laboured.

"Just a couple of hours." My brother replied. "You should sit down."

He shook his head. "Where's my Dad?" He started blinking faster.

"He's at Eichen House, questioning everyone. Looking for Meredith." I replied, caressing my thumb on the palm of his hand. I glanced back at my brother. "We promised him we wouldn't let you out of our sight."

"Okay," He started playing with my fingers. "What about the others?"

"Allison, Isaac, the Twins, they're all looking for Lydia."

"It's starting to feel like we're waiting for a ransom call."

"We'll find her." Stiles let my hands go as he scratched his arms, grabbing his jacket that had been resting on the couch. "You all right?"

"Yeah. I don't know why, I just can't seem to get warm." His lower lip trembled as his skin became paler.

"Maybe you should sit down. Take it easy." Scott's hand touched Stiles's one, his veins becoming black. "You're in pain." I furrowed my eyebrows.

"It's not that bad. Just more like a dull ache.

"Where?"

"Sort of everywhere."

"Stiles, you're freezing," I added, worried as my hands grazed his skin while he sat on the couch.

My brother sighed, sitting down next to him. "Tell me the truth. How much does it really hurt?" He was interrupted as his phone vibrated inside one of the pockets of his jeans. "It's Kira."

And Kira had news for us, not really sure if they were good or bad. But Meredith was in class. However, when we arrived at school, the people from the asylum had been called and they tried to get Meredith. Surprisingly enough, Coach helped us. Therefore, Meredith was in Stiles's jeep with us now.

"Okay, where is Lydia?"

"Who's Lydia?" We sighed, frustrated. Then, she glanced at me. "Woah," There was a big smile on her face as she tried to get a closer look at mine. "You are a siren."

"H-How do you-."

"My aunt was a siren." She smiled. "I thought you guys were extinct." She seemed to giggle for a couple of seconds as she glanced at Stiles. "Is she the girl you are in love with? Y/N?" I shyly looked at the boy sitting next to me. "He would talk about you in his sleep sometimes."

"We didn't share a ro-."

"I have good hearing."

As soon as Scott opened the door to our house we were met with Rafe McCall. "What are you doing here?" My brother asked as our sperm-donor was standing in front of Isaac.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Free period. We're doing group study." Stiles intervened.

Rafe's eyes rested on the girl. "Who's she?"  

"She's my girlfriend." Stiles's blabbed as he placed his arm on her shoulders. My eyes widened as I glanced at him.

"You're not my type." I chuckled as she tried to get away from the hazel-eyed boy who I was going to kill for making such a stupid excuse.

"Well, obviously we have a lot to talk about." He looked at me as I crossed my arms and smirked. You are dead, Stiles. "We should maybe take this upstairs."

"Well, for what I know, you are dating Y/N." He crossed his arms too, which made me uncross mine as I could see similarities between us.

"He was just joking," I added, pinching my boyfriend's arm. "Nice excuse," I whispered to him.

"I've missed you and I can't think properly, that's why it was a bad one." He smiled back.

"You are not getting away from this one." I shook my head with a sheepishly smile on my face.

"He's my type." I snapped my head towards Isaac, who was laughing due to my banter with my boyfriend.

"Okay," I smirked. "Isaac, you can come too." I giggled as the curly-haired boy got up from the chair. "He is single, between." Isaac punched my arm playfully.

"Isaac and Stiles can go," Rafe spoke. "But I want Scott and Y/N here for a couple of minutes." I sighed.

"Hey, Dad, I'll explain all of this later," Scott begged as I stayed silent.

"I don't care that you're not in school. I know your grades are fine." He nodded his head. "Same goes for you, Y/N. All I want to do is talk."

"Now's really not a good time." I snapped.

Scott's voice was softer. "Dad, can't we do this tomorrow?

"That's actually something I've been saying for a long time. Come here." We followed him, standing in front of the stairs. However, he kneeled down. "You see this? This indent in the floor... that was from your head." I leant closer to my brother, not liking where this story seemed to go. "The night before I moved out your mother and I were fighting." Scott kneeled too. "You came out of your room. I grabbed you by the wrist. You pulled back." Rafe's eyes were teary. "And you fell." I gasped. This was what Stiles knew, right? "We watched you tumble down those stairs. You were out for probably 20 seconds. When you came to, you didn't remember a thing. Your mom told me to be out by the morning. That was the last time I ever had a drink." I felt like I shouldn't be listening to that conversation. "And that's why I left."

"I'm going to-." Before I could leave them alone, Rafe gently clutched my wrist.

"It was wrong, what I did with you was wrong on so many levels and I don't have any excuse." He sighed. "I truly am sorry even though I know that it's not enough for you, and will never be." His voice trembled. "I couldn't be with your mother anymore. She was crazy and she wasn't scared to throw a bottle at me every time she had one of her mood changes. And I know that it's more of a reason for you to think I am an asshole because-."

"Because even though you knew she was crazy, you left me there."

"Yeah," He nodded his head. "But I didn't know you were mine." I furrowed my eyebrows. "She was sleeping with multiple men, which I got to know after knowing she was pregnant. She said she believed you were another man's child." He sighed. "I know I did the same to Melissa," He glanced at Scott for a couple of seconds. "She said the other men were just some kind of revenge because I had another family and that it didn't matter to her. She was convinced we could start a family and that we could pretend you were my child."

"What?"

"When she went to jail...Well, before she did. She contacted me." His eyes were even wetter than before. "The judge was searching for your father to give him your custody in case he was in a better condition than your mother. She told him that I was the father, and I didn't want her to look like a liar. And I felt bad because I left you there with your mother, even if you weren't my child. So I said that I was your father and with my job, they didn't take the investigation further."

"So you aren't my-."

"I'm not sure if I'm honest." My eyes got teary. They got teary because I had gotten so attached to Scott that there wasn't a reality in my mind where he wasn't my big brother, even if it was just for a couple of months. "I always sent money. That's why your mom's friend could take care of you with the job she had." True, she was just a cashier that didn't get paid much. I never thought about all the things she bought and how we could afford them.

"So maybe," I tried to take a deep breath as I glanced at my brother. "So maybe Scott isn't my brother?" Rafe seemed surprised by my question, nodding his head. "Can we...Can we get one of those tests done? I want to know." He nodded his head.

It still wasn't an excuse. He was the one who decided to say he was my father. Even if he wasn't, he took that responsibility, and he should have acted like one.

I felt my brother's hand squeezing mine. "Okay, dad. Let me show you something." He moved to another part of the room, pulling me along while Rafe followed us. "See the edge of this window sill. When I got my first skateboard I slid right into it. Broke my collarbone." He wandered to another place, pointing at the object. "This used to be glass. Until I fell on top of it trying to catch a lacrosse ball from Stiles. I got three stitches on my cheek." He let my hand go to point at the place where he got the stitches. "This house is full of accidents." He shook his head. "The stairs? Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was worse. But I healed. I don't need your apology. So... See you at graduation. Or whenever you decide to show up again."

"Sco-." Before I could pronounce his name, he pulled me once again with him. We left Rafe McCall standing in the living room with a lost look on his face.

Isaac and Stiles were able to guess where Lydia was after talking to Meredith. Scott had phoned Allison, wanting her to meet us. Therefore, the four of us were now driving towards the place, hoping to meet the Argent girl there.

"All right, I'll say it." I glanced to my side as Issac coughed. "You look like you're dying. You're pale, thin and you look like you're getting worse. And we're all sitting here thinking it." He was right. I couldn't help but glance at the boy driving. He looked sick. He looked like he was dying. "When we find the other you, is he gonna look like he's getting better?

"What happens if he gets hurt?" My brother asked while glancing at his best friend.

"You mean if he dies, do I die?" He sighed, staring at the rearview mirror to look at me for a couple of seconds. "I don't care." My heart dropped. "Just so long as no else dies because of me." Before I could interrupt, he continued. "I remember everything I did, Scott. I remember pushing that sword into you. I remember twisting it." He shook his head. "I remember hitting your sister in the head and making her bleed because she was trying to help you. I remember both of your blood staining my hands."

"It wasn't you."

"Yeah, but I remember it." His voice cracked. "You guys gotta promise me. You can't let anyone else get hurt because of me."

"We can't promise that," I whispered. "We all know that being involved in all of this means that something could go wrong. But I'm not letting you get hurt neither, Stiles." Our eyes met again, and I discerned his quick blinking to hide the tears that invaded his eyes.

As soon as we arrived, Allison and Kira were already waiting there. We glanced at each other, noticing that we were scared. We never knew how a situation like this could end. "We've done this before, guys. A couple of weeks ago we were standing around just like this and we saved Malia, remember?" My brother tried to comfort us, even though he was terrified too. "That was a total stranger. This is Lydia."

"I'm here to save my best friend." Allison hurriedly added.

"I came to save mine." My brother glanced at the sick-looking boy whose hand was clutching mine.

"I'm here for both," I emphasized the last word, trying to hint that I would do whatever I could to bring Stiles back with me. An alive and free Stiles.

"I just didn't feel like doing any homework." I couldn't help but chuckle as Isaac answered.

Then, we entered the place, just to find Kira's mom standing there with a couple of those shadows or demons standing behind her. "Kira, turn around and go home. Take your friends with you."

I nodded at my brother and my boyfriend, giving them the signal to go find Lydia while we stayed where we had to.

"I can't." We walked closer to her mother, Allison preparing her arrows. "When I looked at the game I realized who I was actually playing. You."  

The Argent girl raised her bow. "Call them off."

"You think you could take him alive?" Her gaze went to me. "You think you can save him?"

"What if we can?" I asked, stepping a little closer.

"I tried something like it 70 years ago. Your friend is gone."

"I told you before, ma'am." I gritted my teeth. "I'm not you and Stiles isn't Rhys. We might be able to save him." I chuckled. "Why are you so opposed to the idea of us trying to save him? Is it jealousy? Or rage because you couldn't save Rhys?"

"He is going, dear."

"Are you sure?" Kira stepped closer to me and her mother. "Or if Stiles doesn't have to die. Maybe Rhys didn't have to die either?"

Noshiko chuckled as the demons behind her prepared their swords. "I see I'm no longer the Fox now, Kira. You are. But the Nogitsune is still my demon to bury." Then, the figures behind her vanished and Kira's mom gasped, worrying us due to the fear, decorating her expression.

"What does that mean?" Isaac dared to speak up as we breathed heavily.

"It means there's been a change in ownership." We turned around as we heard another voice. One we knew too well. A couple of meters away, Void was standing with his hands joined together in front of him. The shadows behind his figure. "Now they belong to me."

That's when we saw ourselves in danger. The shadows ran to us with their swords prepared. Kira was using the katana to protect herself as grunts fell from her mouth. One against two.

Isaac was able to pull one of the shadows to the ground, flashing his eyes and teeth. His werewolf form was taking the lead, trying to scare off the adumbrations. However, he quickly got up from the one he had pushed to the ground as another one ran to him. Isaac used his nails to scratch his middle part, throwing him against a wall.

However, that one seemed not to be affected as he quickly raised his sword. Thankfully, Allison had shot one of her arrows, disarming the monster.

I gritted my teeth as tried to be as closer as possible to Isaac, defending each other's back and taking into account my lack of knowledge related to my supernatural abilities. However, I was glad after receiving some basic defence movements from Kira as I gripped one of the demons' sword tightly between my hands.

I panted as I hit one of those things with the sword, trying to push him as far away from me and Isaac as possible. "How do we stop them?" The curly-haired's voice resonated through the darkness as he glanced at Noshiko.

"You can't!"

He had been distracted, and even though his back was protected by me, his chest wasn't. One of them slashed his stomach and I saw the blood spurting everywhere.

"Isaac!" I gasped. However, when I tried to defend him from the shadow who had gashed his stomach, I received the same outcome as it slashed my knee. Nevertheless, I continued trying to protect Isaac and myself. But we still received some cuts. Especially the boy who was now kneeling on the floor.

I was kicked on the chest by one of the others, falling on my butt and wheezing as the air seemed to escape my lungs. Then, an arrow pierced the chest of that demon, saving Isaac from the last blow. The blow that could have killed him.

A light came out of his chest from where he had been hit by Allison, and then, he vanished into thin air.

I breathed calmly this time, turning around to glance at the Argent girl. I offered her a little smile as she was chuckling, relieved because she had saved Isaac and because the monster had vanished.

However, time seemed to slow down. It looked like a slow-motion that you could not stop. I screamed, I screamed her name trying to warn her because I wasn't strong enough to get up from the floor. I tried, I tried getting up while droplets of tears fell down my cheeks.

My knee begged me to lay back on the floor, but I couldn't. I couldn't lay down on the floor. And I couldn't save Allison as she was stabbed by another shadow. Right in the middle of her stomach.  Her mouth was wide open. I heard a scream, Lydia. She knew what had happened.

I ran to her as she fell into my arms, glancing at me. "A-Allison," My eyes were teary as my trembling hands moved the locks of air out of her face. "Allison, w-we need to stop the blood." I started taking my jacket off, pressing it against her stomach. I glanced around as Void had disappeared and the shadows vanished. "We need to do something. CALL AN AMBULANCE!" I screamed out when I saw the others just looking at me. Accepting the Argent girl's fate.

"Well," She chuckled. "N-now you can't have my head on your w-wall." I chuckled as I continued crying. That's what I've told her. The flashback invaded my mind.

I nodded my head. “I’m going to slowly try and forgive you and your family for everything you’ve done to my brother and the people I love.” I swallowed. “But I swear to god, I will not hesitate to-.”

“To have my head on your wall.” She finished for me. I smirked, getting up, going back to my seat next to Stiles. “I’m sorry for the arrow.”

“Well, you know. Every time I look at it I will remember the badass bitch you can be.” I offered her a laugh, which she appreciated.

"B-but you have a reminder of m-me." No, I didn't want a reminder. I wanted her with us. I wanted Allison alive with us.

Before I could say anything, I heard someone falling on their knees next to me and Allison was taken from my arms. Now she was in the arms where she used to belong. Kira ran to her mother as Isaac was badly hurt, mouth wide open as he glanced at the girl he had fallen in love with.

I stayed there, next to them as my brother placed his hand on top of Allison's hand. "I-I can't take your pain." I gulped as I touched his elbow. He glanced at me to later glance at Allison after I made a gesture.

Allison Argent's eyes were wide open as she glanced at the sky, and her chest wasn't raising up and down anymore. "It's because it doesn't hurt." Her voice cracked.

"No."

She nodded her head. "It's okay." She cried. "It's okay." My brother's face was the perfect expression of pain. A pain that couldn't be described. "It's perfect. I'm in the arms of my first love. The first person I ever loved. The person I'll always love." My brother held her closer as he sobbed. "I love you. Scott. Scott McCall."

"Don't, please, don't. Allison don't, please."

"You have to tell my dad. And you have to tell my dad. Tell him." She begged as her mouth filled with her own blood. Her last puffs of air left her body as she slowly closed her eyes. As we mourned the death of a friend, a sister and a first love.

I sobbed, placing my hand on my mouth to not make any noise. My head rested on my brother's shoulder, trying to give him as much comfort as I could, which wasn't much because...

Allison Argent was dead.

But of course, our pain didn't end there. We had to testify about Allison's death, which seemed impossible as we didn't know what to say without looking crazy.

Stiles was still looking as pale as ever. Dark circles under his eyes as if he was dying. Stiles was dying and I couldn't help but have negative thinking. I couldn't lose him. And even worse, Void was there. Void was somewhere. Perhaps hurting someone or feeding himself with chaos and agony.

Now, we were standing in front of the BHHS building. Kira and Scott were ready to open the doors when Stiles stopped them. "Scott, hold on." Lydia and I were helping him stand up. "I know what you're all thinking. If this works, it might kill me, too. But even if it does, you have to go through with it. Stick with the plan, okay?"

"The plan is to save you," I added, glancing up at him.

"That's the plan I'm going with." My brother replied.

Opening the doors, we were met with a white place filled with snow. It looked like some type of garden with Japanese decorations and it was decorated with a blanket of snow. The doors closed behind us and I shuffled closer to Stiles as I shivered.

We turned around again as we heard footsteps. Rhys. The Nogitsune was standing there. But as quickly as he could, he got closer to us, ignoring Kira who prepared her sword.

"Like I promised, Stiles." His voice started to sound like a broken recording. "We're going to kill all of them. One by one." Onis appeared, surrounding us.

"What the hell is this? Where are we?" Scott asked as I glanced around.

"Between life and death," Nogitsune answered.

"Bardo."

"But there are no peaceful deities here, Lydia." He mocked us. "You're dying, Stiles. And now everyone you care about is dying, too." He started circling us.

"What?" The boy next to me gulped. "What do you mean?"

"I've captured almost all of the territories on the board, Stiles. The hospital. The sheriff's station." I rested my hand on top of Stiles's shoulder as his body shuffled closer to me unconsciously. "And now the animal clinic." He chuckled. "Do you know the ritual of seppuku, Stiles?"

"No, and I don't want to." As Nogitsune got closer to us, Stiles's body moved in front of me.

"When a samurai disembowels himself with his own sword to maintain his honour, but that's not the cut that kills him. The killing stroke is made by his kaishakunin, who beheads the samurai with his own katana." The snow fell on top of our heads as Stiles brought me even closer to his body. His right hand resting on my waist. "Scott...Scott is your kaishakunin. I'm going to make your best friend kill you, Stiles. And you're going to let him. Because just like you, they're all going to die. Everyone touched by an Oni's blade. Unless Scott kills you first." All of us had teary eyes, but not as much as Stiles.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" I clutched Stiles closer to me as I didn't want him to get closer to the monster standing in front of us.

"To win the game."

Stiles grabbed Lydia and me, getting us in a safe place while Scott and Kira fought the Onis. However, one of the Onis disarmed Kira. And I was shocked when Stiles grabbed the sword, pointing it at himself. Ready to die for our safety.

"Stiles," I whispered.

"What if it saves you? What if it saves all of you?" I saw the point of the blade against his clothed stomach, shock filling my body.

"What if it's just another trick?" Lydia asked. She was scared. We all were.

"No more tricks, Lydia. End it, Scott. Let your friend fall on his own sword. Do for him what he cannot do for himself. Do it, Scott." My body shook but also the body of Stiles. "Be his kaishakunin. Give up the game. You have no moves left."

Stiles seemed to realize something as he stopped pointing the sword to himself. "I do." He passed the object to Kira. "A divine move." His arms brought me closer to his body once again. "Stop fighting them." His voice was loud. "It's an illusion. You have to stop fighting them. It looks real and it feels real, but Scott, you gotta trust me, it's an illusion."

We started walking towards Nogitsune and the Onis. One of them raised his sword, cutting my brother's chest, but we continued walking, ignoring the damage done. My brother and Kira received the most pain as Stiles kept me and Lydia closer to his body, trying to avoid any pain towards us. Then, my brother pushed Nogitsune against the doors we had entered from before. The next thing we knew, we were back at school.

There was no blood, no pain. "We're okay. We're..." Before my brother could finish his sentence, he was pushed against the lockers by Void. Kira was brutally hit as she fell unconscious to the floor. "This was my game." His voice was raspy. "You think you can beat me at my game?" His gaze was mostly directed to Stiles.

"Divine move." I placed Lydia behind me as Stiles put me behind him. "Divine move." Void rapidly got closer to us as we stepped back as quickly. "You think you have any moves at all? You can kill the Oni. But me? Me? I'm A THOUSAND YEARS OLD. YOU CAN'T KILL ME!"

"But we can change you," I replied as he stopped his movements, glancing at me.

"You forgot about the scroll," Stiles added as his body shuffled next to mine.

"The Shugendo scroll."

"Change the host." Void whispered.

"You can't be a fox and a wolf." Stiles lightly smirked as my brother appeared from behind, biting his forearm as Void screamed out of rage and agony. Then, Kira pierced his chest from behind with the sword.

Void fell to the ground, his mouth opened as a fly left from deep inside his body. Then, Isaac appeared, catching the fly, avoiding the insect to go inside someone else. Void continued convulsing, and then he just dissolved.

Stiles's body got far from mine and as I glanced to my side I saw that he had passed out. Nevertheless, when he finally opened his eyes we couldn't help but sigh in relief.

"Oh, God, I fainted, didn't I?" We all chuckled. Stiles Stilinski was back. "We're alive. We all alive?"

My brother answered even though I knew he wanted to say that not all. "Yeah. We're okay."

"I-Is it over?" I was scared of asking such a question. But I needed to hear an answer. I needed to be sure that I could close my eyes without expecting blood covering my hands as soon as I would have opened them.

They all glanced at each other, nodding.

"Here you go." Mr Stilinski placed some blankets on top of Stiles's bed. "It's going to be a cold night so I will leave some blankets here in case you both get cold at night." He walked closer to his son, giving him a small hug. "Good night." Then, he stepped closer to me, kissing my forehead.

"Thank you for letting me stay here tonight." I shyly whispered as he embraced me.

"Ugh, stop thanking me. You are part of this family. Whatever you need, just tell us." He closed Stiles's bedroom door behind himself when he left.

"Let's get into bed," Stiles whispered as he let me get in the bed first, knowing that I preferred sleeping to the closest place to the wall, feeling protected by the wall and his body. "Want to watch a film?" We both were sitting on his bed together. I nodded my head. "Oh, there's a Robin Hood film..." He trailed off as he glanced at my face. "Yeah, maybe not now." He changed the channel again. "Oh, The Mummy." He shook his head. "We better turn this off." I chuckled, nodding my head.

I sighed, deciding to lay on my left side and examining his face. He laid in the same position as our legs slowly intertwined under the blankets. My hand slowly trailed up, resting on his cheek. "I was so scared of losing you." I chuckled, shaking my head. "And I'm sure you were in a worse position than me. Are you okay?" My thumb rubbing the bone of his cheek.

He offered me a tiny smile. "I will be. And I feel better now that I'm here with you." His voice came out in a whisper. "Did he...Void, you know?"

"No," I continued rubbing his cheek. "He didn't touch me at all."

He sighed in relief. "He was infatuated by you." He bit his lower lip. "Like I had no control over my body but I could see and hear as if I was in control. But he was the one controlling my own body. Whenever you were there he would say something...about you."

"It's okay." I tried to calm him down. "I'm here, Stiles. And most importantly, you are here too." I moved closer to his body as he did the same. "Stiles," My voice shook as our lips grazed each other. "I want you."

His eyes widened. "I've never-."

"I know," I nodded feeling flustered. "Me neither. And I'm scared to do it so soon but I want to get closer." I closed my eyes, feeling even more embarrassed than before. "I'm sorry, forget what I said. I just-."

"You want to build it up? Like, go slowly until we, Uhm, yeah?" I nodded my head, glad he understood but flustered for having such an idea in my head. "So hypothetically talking what would you want to do?" His hips swayed closer to mine, making me gulp.

"M-Maybe touch, uhm." I giggled due to the embarrassment I was feeling. "Touch each other?" I whispered, unsure of how he would feel about my idea.

I heard him gulping as he quickly nodded his head. I sighed in relief. "Yeah, yeah, okay, now?" I shrugged my head, nodding. "How do we...do it?"

I gathered a little courage as the hand that was resting on his cheek trailed down. My fingers grazed his covered chest until they stopped right at the start of his pyjama pants. I glanced at him, asking for permission as he nodded his head. My fingers slowly slipped inside his pants and boxers. My body shook in anticipation as I continued going lower. He was trimmed, I could feel it.

He wasn't hard yet. But as soon as my fingers freed him from his boxers, he got hard on my hand. "Shit, your hands are freezing." He pulled his pants and boxers a little further so it wouldn't bother us.

"I'm so sorry." Before I could take my hand away from his member, he wrapped his hand around mine.

"It does feel good." I gulped, nodding my head. His gaze was fixed on me as I started moving my hand up and down at a slow pace. "Use your thumb for the tip, press on it." I did as he instructed, examining how his face transformed into an open-mouth expression of pleasure. "Y-yeah, just like that."

My hand decided to go faster, gripping his shaft tightly as my thumb didn't forget to press against his tip. Stiles closed his eyes, placing his left arm on top of his face as he tried to drown his moans. His hips seemed to lose control as they moved against my hand, trying to go quicker.

"Stiles," My other hand decided to grab his testicles, massaging them. He finally moaned aloud, taking his arm off his face to glance at me. His cheeks were red and his forehead was covered by sweat. "I want to see your face and hear you." My shy voice didn't correlate with my actions.

"Agh, I'm so embarrassed." His hips stopped moving and his hand grabbed my wrist to stop my actions.

"W-Why?"

"I-It's the first time someone touches me like that." He blushed. "I normally do this one my own, you know. Because I am a young boy who is horny constan-."

"Stiles." I laughed.

"I've never been touched by another person like this and I have really strong feelings for you and I've been imagining this for a long time and-." I sent him a confused look. "If you continue I'm going to cum already."

"It's okay," I whispered, freeing my hand from his grasp. My hand started moving up and down again as my other hand played with his sack. "Cum, Stiles." My lips grazed his, kissing him deeply. His left hand gripped my side, clutching it strongly as his hips moved faster, fucking himself on my hand. "Let it go, Stiles. Don't be scared to explode. Do it." He groaned against my lips. I glanced down at his hips bucked against my hand until my hand got wet as a trail of cum fell down my hand.

He moaned, which made my pulse go lower than the place where it should be. He rode his high as cum continued dripping down his tip to my hand. "I-I forgot." He gasped. "I cum a lot." I nodded, surprised. "Now you." He took his pants off, cleaning using to clean my hand. Then, he placed his boxers back on.

"It's okay, Stiles."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "I want you to get a release too." He coughed. "And I want to t-touch you." He gulped as his fingers didn't waste time, lowering my pants down and playing with the hem of my panties.

"Ugh," I grumbled, covering my face. "I'm so embarrassed." I was sure I looked as flustered as I felt.

"It's alright. If you want me to do it-." I nodded my head, signalling that I wanted it even though I was all flushed. "Alright." His fingers lowered down. The tips of his finger were a little cold, but the contrast against my hot core was amazing. His other hand lowered my panties as the hand touching my clit, started circling it, slowly. "C-Can you guide me?"

"Just play with it, add pressure sometimes." I sighed as two of his fingers circled it slowly, applying pressure on it sometimes. I gasped when his two fingers started going down, recollecting some of the juices between my lips as he trailed up to add pressure all over again.

"Want it faster?" He whispered as we had totally forgotten his dad was at home. I ground myself against his hand as he cupped my heat, letting me grind on him. "Does it feel good?" He glanced at my hand, which was clutching his arm as I shuffled closer to him so I could rub myself against his hand.

"Wait," I gasped. I forced him to lay down on his back as I sat on top of him.

"W-What are you-." He moaned as I rubbed my core against his clothed dick. "O-okay, that feels, uhh." His hands gripped my waist as he helped me grind against his. My pace quickly fastened with the help of his hands guiding me. "I'm going to, again."

I nodded my head, going faster and trying to contain my moans as low as possible. "Me too." My hands were pressed against his chest as I rode to both of our highs, our faces getting closer, moaning in each other's mouths.

.

.

TAGLIST: @og-baby-ob14 - @savemypostcards - @cas-loves-pizza - @used-avocado - @mvrylee - @bilesxbilinskixlahey - @honeydoll-stark - @arieltheworldisamess - @softpeteparker - @kit-kat-katie99 - @thatsuperherosidekick - @bexbetterxthanxwords - @big-galaxy-chaos - @littlemiss-forgotten - @enchantedcruelsummer - @coldfreakeggsexpert - @merla123 - @sammypotato67 - @weirdowithnobeardo - @maggiesblogsblog - @itskindyl - @bobo-bush - @moongoddesskiana - @multifandxm353 - @irwxnhugsx - @xoprincessmel - @iclosetgeek - @andreagf956 - @niawoods - @anerroroccurrrrred - @perrytheplatypus11 - @trustfundparker - @nmriia - @steve-harringtonnn - @trustfundparker - @brithedemonspawn - @weirdowithnobeardo - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @azayamari - @poguestyle17 - @bibliophilewednesday - @10minutesofscreentime - @momentitodebruh - @drikawinchester - @perrytheplatypus11 - @my-soul-is-the-moon - @linkpk88 - @royalreadery - @sweetest-serpent01 - @teenwaywardasgardian - @sadcupofcoffee - @maliyamay - @seninjakitey - @tairisceana - @thegirlwhoimagined - @mackingjj  - @daphnen21 - @malfoystilinskii05 - @caitsymichelle13​ -

People in bold means it doesn’t let me tag them.

[artisqueer]

RetroBangBoy AU - The Hangover (ao3)

Notes: 

hang·o·ver /ˈhaNGˌōvər/ noun 1. a thing that has survived from the past. Example: "a hangover from the fifties" 2. a severe headache or other after-effects caused by an excessive intake of alcohol or drugs

Characters: OT7

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol.

Jungkook wakes up parched, hungry, and with a pounding in his head. He pushes the covers off his face and down his chest. His long fluffy hair standing from the static of the sheets. He stretches out his arms above his head, dragging out a groggy yawn. It feels like he’s just woken up from a century-long nap. He looks up past his hands outstretched in the air. The posters above his bed are the same. He looks down, past his bare feet at the bottom of the bed. His drum set, books, and gadgets are all in their place too.

Huh…what year is it?

A heavy thump on the other side of the wall startles him out of bed. The crash is immediately followed by a low moan. Jungkook dashes out to the hall where Yoongi is already standing at the entrance of the bedroom next door. His eldest roommate chuckles behind a mug of coffee, head tilted 90 degrees to the side. Jungkook peers inside the room to see the source of the ruckus, his round head naturally tilts to the side as well. They both stand in the doorway, observing their housemate, Namjoon.

On the floor, upside down, legs folded over his shoulders.

“Where are we?” he asks as he looks up at them from between his thighs.

Yoongi shuffles back to the kitchen, holding his head in pain. “It looks like we’re not in Jeju anymore…” His voice is raspy and deep.

***

Jungkook’s round eyes bounce back and forth across their house, looking for clues to explain their current predicament. His head is throbbing with pain too. He suddenly remembers his thirst and runs to the kitchen for water.

Once Namjoon has restored himself to a perpendicular position, he joins them in the kitchen too.

“Why does my head hurt? Did we get shit-faced last night?” Jungkook groans into the kitchen counter.

“I can’t remember,” Yoongi grimaces between gulps of coffee.

“Is it a week-day? We have never gone out on a school night… I would never go out on a school night!” Namjoon folds his thick arms across his chest and blinks. “I’m so hungry.”

Jungkook turns away from the sink and his eyes pop at the sight. A whole ass meal, complaining about the lack of a meal...in the kitchen of all places. pls.

“Me too. We better go out for food. There’s nothing to eat here.” Yoongi says with very little energy.

“How can that be? I always stock up on groceries!” Namjoon frantically checks the cabinets and cupboards, finding them all bare.

“What the hell did we do?” The two eldest housemates look at one another, dumbfounded. Jungkook leans into the kitchen wall, aggressively chewing on his thumb. He's nervous, eyes big and wide. He opens his mouth to speak when the phone rings.

Ring ring ring.

Namjoon answers it, rather desperately. “Hello?”

“Good, you’re home.” The voice on the other end breathes out a sigh of relief. “It’s me. Taehyung. Emergency meeting. Your place. Now!”

***

“So, we’re all blacked out from yesterday. We have the worst hangover of our lives. And Bighead and Jin are missing…” Jungkook repeats as he paces back and forth the living room.

Hoseok enters the breakfast nook and sets down an extra-large pan of sunny side eggs and sausage. He steps back before the starved men wipe it clean.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re all so hungry today,” Hoseok scorns them as a smile grows on his lips. He’s thrilled that he finally gets to cook for them. Jin normally does all the cooking.

“You’re not going to eat?” Jimin asks him from behind a mouth full of food.

“I just don’t feel hungry,” Hoseok shrugs. He wipes his hands on his apron. “I brought us enough groceries to last through the week, so eat well.” Oddly, Hoseok has more energy than everyone in the room put together.

Taehyung speaks from the head of the table. “Guys, we’re not all blacked out—which is why I called everyone here..."

They look up at him from their plates, still eating like the food will be taken away if they stop.

"I remember everything.”

Jungkook interrupts. “Wait. Has anyone checked the date?!” He wiggles out of his chair and nearly trips running to the front porch, where the Sunday paper should be.

Having just eaten to the brim, Yoongi yawns and casually turns on the TV set, out of habit. The display does something completely new. Huh, TVs don't have color? Jimin and Hoseok are most mesmerized by this, moving to sit at the foot of the screen as a Coca-Cola commercial plays:

It's more than taste,

Bigger than a name,

As big as your best times,

As good as your best friends,

As real as the way you feel…

Jungkook runs back with the newspaper all spread out into disarray like his long dark hair. “Um…guys?”

There’s a long pause in the room.

“We’re not in the fifties anymore…”

What—

Their wide eyes look from him to the television and back. There’s only one thing that could mean coming from Jungkook…and it’s not good.

“We, uh, must’ve jumped twenty-seven years into the future,” he scratches the back of his round head. “It’s...1985.”

Taehyung clears his throat. “You guys will need to sit down for this. I can explain.”

***

They gather in the living room. Namjoon and Yoongi take up the couch, Jungkook sits on the floor between them, and Hoseok and Jimin share the love seat.

Taehyung’s knack for taking pictures and love for journalism make him a natural storyteller. His fine hands sway in the air as he talks. “You all have varying degrees of memory loss. For some very strange reason, I can remember everything that’s happened to us in the last 48 hours.”

Tae recounts their field trip and the events leading up to the portal inside the Manjjanggul Lava tube. How Jin wanted to hide the portal from the lab, Heaven Inc., but Jungkook wanted to destroy it. How Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi stormed the cave clearing as Jungkook was opening the portal gate. How Namjoon and Jin fought each other as the cave collapsed. And most importantly, how they were all unexpectedly pulled into the warp after Jungkook. All, except Jin and their beloved Bighead.

Their memories start coming back to them, piece by piece. Oddly, it’s as though only Taehyung could trigger their recollections.

“I don’t understand.” Namjoon finds his glasses and puts them on. Suddenly, he looks more like a professor than a biker. Big-tiddied mathematician. “Why is Taehyung the only one who remembers what happened?”

Taehyung thinks for a moment before an unusual blush forms at his cheeks. “Probably ‘cause I appreciate art. So, I remembered.”

“Uhm, ok. And why doesn’t Hoseok have hangover symptoms like the rest of us?” Yoongi crosses his arms, which seemingly grew thicker in the micro-span of the jump.

Hoseok vibrates from his place next to Jimin. His bright smile radiating through the room. “Ooh, I know I know. ‘Cause I’m your hope! Everyone was totally beat, but I could give you my energy. Like sunshine to a dying plant or light at the end of a dark tunnel or a—”

“—mOtH tO a FlAmE,” the rest mock. Apparently, no one forgot Hoseok’s notorious house party pick-up lines. They all laugh.

Could this be? Do some of the jocks have certain abilities now? What about the bikers?

“We have another problem: where is Sweetcheeks, and Seokjin?” Taehyung seems frustrated.

“And another problem: why did we all get warped with Jungkook in the first place?” Jimin pouts. “What about our families, and my—”

“—Cat! Your cat! Cats have nine lives. For three they play, for three they stray and for the last three, they stay. Why...did I just say that? It feels so familiar, so stran—” Yoongi stops talking out loud, resorting to mumbling to himself instead. He quickly grabs the paper from Jungkook and begins searching it for something.

The others continue to talk over each other, flooded with their worries and bits of things they’re starting to remember. The upcoming homecoming game, the unattended house parties, mourning parents, exams, etc.

“Quiet!” Namjoon’s clear and booming voice silences the room.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook fiddles with his tattooed fingers. “I-I don’t know why I dragged you all here with me. That’s what I have to figure out. I will figure it out. I promise. I’m worried too. If Bighead and Jin didn’t get warped here with us, maybe they, they ended up in a different d—” they sit in silence, thinking the worst.

“No no, that can’t be,” Namjoon reassures. “Given everyone’s memory lapse and their expert recklessness, they may have just wandered off.”

“We have to go back,” Jungkook says. “We have to go back to 1958.”

“How? We’re stuck here,” Yoongi deadpans, his nose still in the paper.

“Actually,” Jimin recalls, “on my way over here I stopped by the coffee shop…and um…well my boss didn’t recognize me at all. He didn’t even know my name.” Jimin’s worries grow. It’s unlike Jimin to walk down the street without a single greeting. He is—was—very popular.

“It's starting to make sense...” Jungkook says under his breath.

“What does, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s jaw does the thing.

“People don’t recognize us in this place because,” he pauses, “because we’re not from here. I don’t mean this town, I mean, this dimension.”

Namjoon presses a finger to his lips, thinking.

“We should pick new names and find temporary jobs. To blend in. We can't go back to school, we don't have identification. We need the money anyway,” Yoongi advises, “to support ourselves while Jungkook figures out a way back.” Yoongi seems to have become incredibly wiser after the jump. He peels the paper apart, pen in hand, circling jobs from the employment section. He looks up from the paper again. “How did I know to say that?”

“Whoa, are you like, a genius now?” Jimin sasses, as much to tease him as to distract from the impending doom that is being stuck in the future.

“No.” Yoongi scoffs, withholding a severe blush. “It’s like I’ve read all the books at the library, and lived nine lives since we left 1958. I just, know things.”

Namjoon nods in agreement. “It’s the best plan we’ve got. If twenty-seven years have passed since our “disappearance”, then our sudden re-emergence could bring unwanted attention, or worse…”

“Could someone still be looking for us after all years?” Jimin asks Tae. Hoseok instantly understands and wraps him in a comforting embrace.

“We need to sort this out as quietly as possible. Let’s keep low profiles until we figure out a way to get back to 1958. I don’t want us to get tangled in loose ends.” Namjoon sighs somberly. Being the leader of the biker gang has made him a suitable leader for whatever mish-mosh-of-a-gang this is now. “We’re in a different dimension and we don’t entirely know what that means. It could be dangerous, but as long as we stick together we will be okay. My priority is to keep us all safe.”

At this declaration, all eyes sparkle. Especially, Jungkook’s.

“I got us here, Joon. You can trust me to find us a way home,” Jungkook gets up from the floor, making for the door.

“Stop!” Jimin interrupts. “We can’t go out dressed like this.”

They look down at their clothes. They are still in their 50s outfits.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Yoongi puts down the paper and pouts.

Hoseok pounces off the sofa, “YES! New clothes…get up get up! We’re off to the mall!” He tosses his apron aside and leads them out the front door. Namjoon and Yoongi groan, dragging their feet toward the back of the group.

Jungkook smiles ear to ear. Maybe the world is not quite right, but everything he truly wants is right here with him.

[clonecaptains]

Spanish Lessons

Javi Peña x reader 

rated: m 

word count: 2k

Tonight is girl’s night with your friends. It happens less frequently than all of you would like, so you jumped at the opportunity to hang out with your girls. The only downside is that Javi has an off night tonight. Which means he’s home alone at your shared apartment and you could be spending time with him. Or jumping his bones.

He told you he didn’t mind, he was glad for a quiet evening. And he promised he would wait up for you. You both knew you’d be home late, and knowing you’d have a sleepy or maybe sexually frustrated Javi waiting for you at home has you a tiny bit distracted.

“Whoo hoo!!” your friend waves a hand playfully in front of your face, you’d zoned out. “Are we boring you?” she teases.

“No,” you flush and take a sip of your drink.

“This is girl’s night!” another friend chimes in, “don’t tell me you’re thinking about Javi?” she winks and nudges you with her elbow.

“I miss him alright,” you shrug. “He’s got the night off.” You don’t say anymore, and you don’t have to. You shrug again getting a chorus of laughter from your friends.

The teasing continues, but everyone understands. His job is hard, and it’s been a struggle for you at times. They support you through it, but there’s still some teasing to be had.

“So he must be good if you miss him already,” another friend interjects. “What’s he like?”

You just flush and shake your head. You’re not gonna kiss and tell. They’ve been trying to get details out of you for ages. They don’t need to know that he made you come three times last night from his mouth alone.

The conversation turns elsewhere, but still in the back of your mind you’re thinking about him.

-

Javi is at home doing the same. He rarely gets a night to himself. Of course he wants you with him, but this quiet is nice.

As soon as he gave you a kiss goodbye and the door was closed behind you, he took a deep breath. Your perfume is heavy in the air, and he loves the smell.

He busies himself in the kitchen. He’s not a bad cook, but tonight he’s reheating leftovers.

While the leftover dish is warming up, he flicks on the TV. He certainly does not turn on the news, he’s had enough of that. He turns on some mindless comedy he can half listen to in the background.

He goes into your bedroom, and grabs the hamper of laundry. He dumps it all into the wash, along with the shirt and jeans he’s wearing. Left only in some boxers, he heads to the kitchen to get his meal.

Javi smiles at a joke on the tv while he digs into his food. He thinks it was a joke you would have laughed at.

He teaches you Spanish that way. Using the TV. He repeats things back to you the words spoken on shows. He also talks to you in Spanish, so you can hear things in context. He’s turned it into a game now. for things you get right, he rewards you etc.

Last night you did well, hence him eating you out for quite some time.

He’d whispered Spanish praises and pet names between your legs, and something about it made you legs quiver a little longer. The thought sends a jolt to his crotch at the memory. He palms himself lazily on the couch. If he’s not careful he’ll get too hard.

Does he want instant relief? Or to wait for a few hours of torture until you get home?

It’s only 7:15. And you probably won’t be home until at least 10:30.

What the hell.

His food is forgotten and he leans back agasint the couch. Fuck, he wishes you were here. But the thought of you is only making him harder. It’s starting to burn and he needs a release. He won’t make it all night without it.

He smirks to himself, he hasn’t felt like this since he was a hungry hormonal teenager, or those rare lonely nights in college.

Javi pulls himself out of his shorts, and lazily strokes himself. He thinks about you from last night. The way you cried out from too much stimulation. The way your legs shook and clamped around his head. How good you taste on his tongue. How red your face was, the sweat on your brow and between your breasts. He’d kill too touch you right now, the softness of your skin.

He wishes this was your hand on him instead of his own. He strokes and pulls, feeling the skin glide from his arousal.

The picture he’s painted from the memory has him cumming on his hand and stomach in no time. The thought of your whines and the way you tugged on his hair has him throwing his head back in a groan. He grunts and sighs loudly until he’s spent.

He cleans himself up, finishes his now cooling meal, and smokes while he watches TV. He can’t remember a night when he had this little to do.

-

The play that you and your friends had gone to see ran long. It was a little after 11 when your keys jingle in the door. You don’t know if Javi will be awake, so you tread quietly.

Entering the apartment, you see all the lights are still on. A dirty plate is in the sink with a fork telling you that he ate. The dryer is rumbling, and you hear the shower in the bathroom. A small smile appears on your face. He’s still awake.

You walk by the bathroom to let him know you’re home, but you stop when you hear another noise. It’s low and quiet, but it sounds like he’s humming. It’s a song you don’t know, but you pause to listen anyways.

You jump slightly when the water stops and the curtain rings catch as the curtain is pushed back. You feel a lump in your throat and a spark in your belly. He’s wet and naked behind this door.

“Javi, I’m home!” you call to him walking back to the bedroom.

“I’ll be out in a second baby!” he calls back.

You kick off your heels and get undressed as fast as possible. You want in comfy clothes now. Your dress and bra are off when Javi comes in the room.

“How was the play?” he asks grabbing you around the waist and kissing your neck.

“Too long,” you laugh, “but it was good! I wanted to be here with you,” you admit leaning back against his shoulder.

“I wanted you here too,” he whispers sliding his hands up your waist to cup your breasts.

“Javi,” you writhe a little.

“Shh,” he shushes nipping at your ear. He spins you around in his arms for a gentle embrace. Your chests are pressed together, and you can feel him through the towel pressed on your thigh.

“Mi amor,” he sighs kissing your face.

“So what did you do tonight?” you ask while he kisses your face. You kiss him back and listen.

“Well,” he pulls back to look at you. “I missed you,” and you swear you see the tips of his ears get pink. He doesn’t say that he touched himself and thought of you, but with that look you can guess. “Ate dinner, watched tv. That was about it.”

You smile and kiss his cheek. “The girls were asking about you tonight.”

“Oh yeah what’d they say?” he puffs out his chest and raises an eyebrow.

You pull back and laugh, taking off your hose.

“They wanted sex stories, as usual.”

“What did you tell them?” Javi’s hands find your hips and he pulls you back to him. His hands pushing down your panties. “Did you tell them about your little Spanish lesson last night?” he purrs into your ear and sweeps a thumb over your sex.

“No,” your knees buckle. “I’d rather keep that memory to myself,” you smirk and grasp him through his towel. He bucks his hips into your touch and you squeeze.

“Hey Javi?”

“Hmm?” he hums, his lips pressing kisses to your neck.

“What song was that you were humming?”

His lips stop, his thumb stops.

“I’m sorry but all questions must be asked in Spanish now for the rest of the night.”

“What was it?” you laugh.

He matches your grin, and you’re hit with a wave of arousal again. His hair is wet on his forehead in strands. His skin is tan and covered in little drops of water. The white towel a contrast to his skin. And the bulge in said towel has only grown.

“I’m glad you had a nice night,” you tell him and smooth his wet hair back, even though most of it flops back forward.

He gives a quick peck on your lips, then walks back towards the bathroom. You hear him turn on the sink, then him brushing his teeth. While he’s doing that, you rummage through Javi’s t-shirt drawer and pull one on.

Javi comes back, this time the towel is gone and he’s stark naked. He’s still got the toothbrush in the corner of his mouth.

“What are you doing?” you laugh but it comes out more of a needy sigh.

He looks at you and shrugs, both eyebrows raised.

“Oh,” you clear your throat, “¿Qué estás haciendo?”

“Good,” he nods, heading back to the bathroom.

“What I’m not going to get an answer?”

“Not in English!” he calls back. You hear him tap on the sink with his brush.

Tiptoeing in the bathroom behind him, you feel like turning the tables on him.

You have a great view of him from the bathroom door. His bare ass and back take up most of your attention. But then you catch is gaze looking back at you in the mirror. His toothbrush is down, and both hands are resting on the counter.

Not so sneakily, now that he sees you, you come up behind him and hold his body to you. He doesn’t move, only tenses when you touch him where he needs you most.

“You know, I was going to turn the tables on you but-”

“But what?” he lets out a breathy laugh.

“I didn’t think I’d get this far, and I don’t have anything to threaten.”

He chokes out another laugh as your hand tightens.

“Fuck,” he swears, his head lowering and shoulders tensing. You take this opportunity to kiss his shoulder blades. The faded remainder of your lipstick smears across his skin.

“What was the song?” you ask.

“Baby,” he chokes out again, “you’re really bad at this game tonight.”

You’re making him feel so good, he doesn’t want you to stop, but he wants to mess with you some more. In a quick move, he’s got you up on the counter top. He’s pushed your panties to the side, and is teasing your sex with his thumb.

“You’ve been thinking about me all night haven’t you?” he mumbles into your neck. He’s moving too slow, you try and buck your hips but he stops when you do. “Baby, this is what happens, this is your punishment.”

You whine and blush. It’s all part of the game, but he’s so serious about it even when he plays, that there’s an edge to it. It fuels you on.

“Javi, please,”

He raises his eyebrows, “what?”

“Por favor,” you manage to gasp out.

He winds you up a little bit more with his fingers, then enters your heat.

“’Por favor’ is pretty basic sweetheart,” he grunts as he starts to thrust into you. “But fuck, I’ve been thinking about you all night, so I’ll let it slide.”

You’re a mess. His kisses are hot and fierce, one hand is keeping your body pressed to his, the other planted firm on the counter.

You both spiral together, and he rests his sweaty brow against the cool mirror behind you.

“You thought about me all night huh?”

He cocks his head, a soft smile lifts in the corner of his mouth.

“What? It’s after midnight!” you point to the clock on the wall.

“Baby,” he laughs, pulling away from your body, “I said, ‘all night.’“

“You really don’t want me to know what song it was do you?”

“If you don’t ask me that in Spanish I guess you’ll never know,” he presses a kiss to your brow.

You roll your eyes with a laugh. He leaves the bathroom while you brush your teeth and finish getting ready for bed.

Coming back to your room, Javi is under the covers ready for you to join him. Snuggling in close, he turns off the bedside lamp.

“Javi?”

“Hmm?” he hums back in the darkness, pulling you close.

“Are you naked under there?”

You feel his sly grin against the top of your head.

“More questions baby, and I think you can feel for yourself.”

xx

tagging: @pascalispedro, @pajamasecrets, @spacedadheadcanons, @pascalplease, @lannister-slings-and-arrows, @cptnbvcks, @coredrive, @rzrcrst, @tarrevizslas, @stardxstparadise, @winters-buck, @pascalisthepunkest, @qveenpascal, @mandoplease (if you don’t want to be tagged let me know!)

[mc-critical]

Do you think MC hurrem, before the bayezid and selim conflict of course, ever considered that the traditional fratricide could possibly happen amongst her sons? Mustafa hypothetically killing her sons if he became sultan is constantly used as a reason for why she had to get rid of him but how could multiple princes having the same mother resolve any potential conflict for the throne? Sorry idk if what i said makes sense

Don't worry at all, I understood you perfectly! ^^

No, I don't think MC Hürrem considered that possibility as strongly before the inevitable occured.

First off, her adaption to the harem was a slow and gradual process and she certainly didn't become aware of all the rules, all the sudden. (as when she was surprised that Mustafa was getting his own harem before the sanjack) She knew enough to set a goal in her mind from the first episode, but didn't get to see the full picture until she went through fulfilling that goal step by step and saw an obstacle that would be impossible to ignore. She was so focused on the path to survive, she brushed off the cost of said path in the first place.

It's true that in the beginning, there wasn't a reason for her to consider possible ongoing rivalry or fratricide between her sons. Nigar told her that she would rule the world if she gives the Sultan a child and when she becomes aware of the competition in the harem, what would make her prevail over them all, guided by her desire to make SS only hers and maintain power, for she would stop undergoing the same trauma and disrespect all over again? More children! We could argue that, throughout season 1, she views having more children as a privilege - not only does it secure more her position as a favorite, but it makes her gain advantage and power over her rival in this game. Notice how she boasts about the possibility alone in front of Mahidevran in both E06 and E11! ("It will be a boy. Then it will be a boy again. Then it will be a boy again and again..."; "I will give birth to many princes, but you won't even give birth to a girl.") These lines could be an attempt of assertion and a mask of vulnerability and insecurity, in a way, but this is far from the only thing going on. Not just the children, but the princes specifically are capilatized on, because bearing one is considered an honor in this harem and for every pregnancy, Hürrem expresses an almost firm confidence that it will be, without a doubt, a prince. The whole system in the show, sadly enough, encourages that whoever has more sons is more powerful and will get everyone else out of their way eventually, without shining a light on the more grim implications and what the mothers will possibly have to go through with their many sons, to the point it simply leaves them to find this out by themselves. It puts the princes in idealized superiority that is one of the first things Hürrem gets used to and that's why she was initially taken aback when Mihrimah was born instead of another prince she wanted so much. By that point, she had no time to consider eventual conflicts or fratricide because of her (initial) upper hand.

The higher stakes were kept under wraps in the series itself, too, because of its Cerebus Syndrome nature that lets you endear with the characters at first in lighter, more mainly interpersonal situations and then move to the wider scale of the historical themes, having them grow as people and political players and realize the bigger context along with the evolution of the narrative. That is coupled with the children's ages, for the small age, to me, was presented as a symbol of innocence. There's this prevailing trend in Hürrem's character during season 2 where she kept saying that Mustafa is too little for doing certain stuff (like going to a campaign, to a province, etc.) and that, I think, is telling enough of the amount of awareness she had for an eventual conflict between her sons. That was a general theme of the show, too, because both Mahidevran and Hürrem held no ill will against the other's children when they were small, as seen by them taking care of them during the janissary rebellion and Mahidevran saving Mehmet in E16. The children themselves weren't a priority of eradication for them back then and when they were little, they were something worth protecting as a mother's value, not tools to be moulded for the future battle for the throne. When their mothers find a common ground in this aspect, would a conflict between children of one and the same mother be possible? Only when they grow up, awareness comes to the surface, bacause by the time they're still small, they're harmless and innocent. (handicapped by SS's words to Mustafa in E46: "As you grow up, the innocence between us disappears, my Mustafa.") Even Hürrem set herself against Mustafa only by E38 and she didn't want his death until then. Knowing this, could she predict that something could go wrong between her own sons, no less? Doesn't she have other stuff to do until she reaches that point? Isn't she too busy in forging her own survival path and not think as much about her children before they grow up?

Then again, Hürrem has shown to be capable of anything to always remain in SS's good graces both because she is devoted to him and for her own goals. The princes play a part in this, because they have to gain the padişah's support first and foremost and that simply cannot be done through quarrels. Hürrem may have grown wise to this, with the many cases of her ordering the children to go away once a conflict of any kind ensues and especially, always telling them throughout season 3 not to fight with each other, not even because of her, and stressing that family is the most important thing. She may have wanted their childhoods to be as peaceful as possible, rendering them (except Mihrimah) oblivious to what she's gone through, which gave them a sense of naivety in the process. And while that naivety turned out to be a double-edged sword (as we saw with Mehmet fully believing Illyas and Cihangir believing in SS's promise that he won't sacrifice Mustafa), it could've been a way for Hürrem to make sure that her children in general would always seek a consensus and look good in front of the sultan. That didn't end up being the case. Despite of these possible measures of hers, I doubt she got fully aware of the possibility, precisely because of her set goals. Even though the dismissal of Selim and Bayezid's conflict became a main arc of Hürrem's in S04, there were also hints of this in S02, shown by E53: "Such a sun will rise that that sun will only rise for me and my children." Her fixation on Mustafa as the single pivotal moment of her life fight is a huge character flaw of hers almost right from the moment she began to see him as a threat and even from her first attempt, as we see by the quote above, she thinks that by eliminating him, it would be all over, assuringly discarding everything else afterwards. And Selim and Bayezid were already arguing by that episode and it only escalated further since then, because of her ignorance as a part of the whole issue.

It's even questionable whether she has ever thought that, maybe there is more work to be done after Mustafa, because Hürrem's fixation became more predominant as the series progressed, in conjunction with the evergrowing Selim and Bayezid conflict. It was already so prevalent by S04 that Hürrem went as far as to blame Mustafa for the first big scandal between them in E112 and Mihrimah had to remind her of their rivalry-slowly-turning-to-enmity's very existence in the first half of the season that is there in spite of who Hürrem thinks is the bigger problem. She didn't give it the significant attention it deserved when they were little and I, for one, believe that she had to investigate more when Selim set Bayezid's arrow up for failure around E91/92 and not scold only Bayezid, for it only heightened his resentment for Selim. She didn't think of it as something that big to deal with, it was probably a problem they would fix by themselves for good measure, because they're still children after all, aren't they? But a resentment of a child could only continue to live on, especially in such a time period, so if Hürrem, knowing how paranoid she could be and how much she tried to evade everything that could oppose her success, predicted the future mass of the conflict, wouldn't she do something more, wouldn't she nullify it? It's a given that she can't be next to them in every single minute of the day, but the possible outcome itself just screams for tiiiny bit more involvement on her part. The earlier you interfere, the earlier would stop the obstacle in its entirety. Hürrem is smart enough to know this, so the logical thing is that she didn't fully take all that into account. She couldn't, and possibly didn't, want to predict this as a mother.

The very realization of the actual massive power of Selim and Bayezid's enmity and her newfound inability to interfere almost at all to it came as such a surprise for her. She not only completely miscalculated, but it broke her heart into pieces. She didn't see coming any conflict of the like, because if she did, even before the whole fiasco happened, early into S01-2, she would never let it reach such extremes. And the realization hit her in such an unexpected way that she wanted to escape the shock that she had to choose and try to solve things as she has always had, doing things that should've been done such a long time ago. Would she be so helpless when she finally came to terms with the following fratricide, if she saw it coming before the conflict even started?

In summary: Hürrem didn't think of something like this at all early on and when it happened, she did see the roots, but could never, not even in her dreams, imagine the devastating results.

Though yeah, could a conflict between sons of the same mother fully be resolved in circumstances like these? I very much doubt it. Even if the mother removed the tension between them, there are other factors we shouldn't forget (I refer to SS's reign in particular): they are sons of the same mother, but they're still candidates for the throne, hence they're rivals and both the people and the padişah will have to pick a favourite. No matter how impartial a sultan seems to be, he does end up picking sides eventually - whether it's about the province one is sent in, when they're sent in it, how often does he visit them, what in them does he approve or disprove of or how competent they are in his eyes. It's inevitable for them to live in absolute peace in an environment that would sooner or later cause them to fight until one's absolute and total failure.

[mithrilhearts]

For the commentary thing! That reunion scene at the end of your latest chapter of May Your Forge Burn Bright 💖 I'm still living for that

May Your Forge Burn Bright - Chapter 9 The Reunion, you got it!

Commentary & scene under the cut - spoilers ahead

It was easier to walk with the wind than against it, but regardless of how fast Bilbo’s feet carried him, he was no match for a thunderstorm. Between the bone-shaking rumbles overhead and the blinding rain, it would be a miracle to make it halfway back to Ered Luin without crumbling or being swept away by the wind itself.

Wiping his sleeve against his eyes to try and get some of the water out of them, Bilbo wasn’t sure whether it was rainwater or tears that he was swiping away, but he certainly looked like a picture of perfect misery, and felt like one too! Soaked to the bone, stuck in a terrifying situation with no shelter, but there was a determined streak about him. Regardless of what he was putting up with now, he had all intentions to fix things with Thorin. If that meant they never completed their hillside conversation, then so be it. So long as the dwarf was in his life, then that was what mattered.

Another strike of lightning, that was far too close, hit one of the trees overhead, causing the tree to split down the trunk and for a good chunk of branches to start falling in Bilbo’s general direction. Not that he could hear or see it thanks to the sounds of the storm.

With his eyes screwed closed so tightly and keeping a sleeve over his face to protect himself from the rain, Bilbo didn’t see the oncoming form that got a firm grip on the front of his waistcoat and yanked him forward several paces and out of the way with a mighty yelp. It almost felt as if a wild animal had gotten a hold of him and Bilbo immediately tried to scramble, but the loud sound of part of a tree hitting the ground behind him had him prying open his eyes. Not to mention, he had been enveloped into a grip he was only vaguely familiar with.

Me, thinking to myself, how can I really make Bilbo M I S E R A B L E? Throw him into a storm, because we all know by now that he hates the damn things. This is probably his worst nightmare. YES, GOOD. I know, I know, I'm a monster. I've been told this a time or two.

Me, who doesn't watch romantic movies or read romance novels, etc. What's the best way to set up a reunion? See above. Put Bilbo in a terrifying situation and let him get saved at the last second. First I was thinking of like, maybe a wolf or orc attack, but if you've read Dragonhearted, Thorin already got to save Bilbo from wargs.

This whole damn scene was made up on the fly and I'm insanely proud of it. Moving on.

Hazel eyes tried to fight against the rain, but the water stopped for just a moment as a coat was being held over his head to block some of the weather, and it allowed Bilbo to look at what could have been his end. Being crushed under the force of falling branches...and yet…? “Thorin!” How? Why? Did Bilbo actually get knocked around so hard that he was stuck in a dream?

No, dreams didn’t feel that warm.

“You’re a foolish creature and should know better than to storm off by yourself!” Thorin scolded over the howling of the wind, a scowl to his face as he looked just as Bilbo remembered whenever these moods struck the dwarf. Unpleasant. “You could have been killed, I promised to keep you safe…” And Thorin would not let that promise fall through.

“You came for me…” Bilbo murmured, though unable to be heard over the sounds of rain and wind. Thorin’s coat might have acted as a decent enough shield against the actual rainwater, but it was nothing for the sounds. “I was on my way back! I needed to apologize for what I said, and I’m not sure how else I can express that. From the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry-”

“Maralmizu, Bilbo."

Bilbo’s ears twitched before dropping. Now was not the time for secrecy, they could play that game once they were out of this vicious weather. Not to mention, Bilbo had been trying to give a heartfelt apology. An annoyed huff came from the hobbit as he continued to stare at Thorin, caring less and less about thunder and lightning as the seconds ticked by. “What does that even mean, Thorin?” Though asking a dwarf to reveal their secrets was like trying to move a mountain with your bare hands.

“I love you,” Thorin was far gentler this time than the scolding he had started with, staring at Bilbo’s wide hazel eyes. “And I have for some time now and just...too afraid to say it. Too afraid that being me might scare you off, and it did...but I-”

“Oh, you really are a stupid dwarf!” That bold Tookish behavior was finding its way to the surface once more, no longer hiding in fear from a few unsavory blokes from Bree. Wrapping his hands around both of Thorin’s braids and standing on his toes, it didn’t take much guidance from Bilbo’s small tug for their lips to meet with eyes fluttering closed.

It felt like a missing piece had finally been slotted into place.

FINALLY. I'm so glad this hurdle has been addressed. Even I was getting like...okay boys, it's time to be honest here, have that talk, give the ol' smoochy smooch and let's move on! I wanted it to be something I hadn't read before, and maybe it's a little cliche with hollywood but hey, rain kisses are cute, aren't they?! Let them kiss - THORIN USING HIS WORDS. Look, I don't wanna sound cocky or complacent, but this scene had even me melting into a puddle of goo.

It's always nice when the writer loves their work, right???

I needed a memorable scene. Bilbo's afraid of storms, his life gets saved, and rain kiss. All perfect things for a perfect scene and it is one of my finer moments. Sometimes all it takes is a terrifying push to get someone to take that step. We got the kiss that I denied everyone in a few chapters previously, though let's be real, the fireflies would have been much better than lightning and rain water.

All that mutual pining and worrying about baggage and burdens was for nothing. It was irrelevant and could be tossed down the mountainside. Thorin wasn’t sure when the last time he had felt so light was. Was this what tossing your cares aside felt like?

Still keeping one arm up with the side of his coat as a shield from a good portion of the rain, Thorin’s other hand carefully cupped just below Bilbo’s jaw, rubbing a thumb across the small and barely visible cleft of that smooth chin.

Bilbo was the first to pull back, and found his cheeks aflame with Thorin inching forward as if to chase those lips before their eyes locked again. “As romantic as a kiss in the rain is…can we please go home?”

Was it too sappy to declare that a location didn’t make a home, but a person did?

“You’re my home,” Apparently not sappy enough for Thorin to spill the words. Funny how one small gesture removed an entire emotional blockade that he had been trying to keep up all this time.

Bilbo hummed slightly in delight at the words, giving a firm nod in agreement. “You’re my home too.” Dropping back to his normal height instead of being raised on his toes, Bilbo moved to lace his hand with Thorin’s free one. “Let’s get out of this storm then. I’d rather not catch a cold in all of this.”

Thorin couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the idea of being sick. “Alright, but only because I’m not sure how susceptible hobbits are to colds. We dwarves are made of sterner stuff.”

Somehow, Bilbo didn’t quite believe that.

THE THEME OF THE STORY HAS HIT.

Home is where the heart is - it's one of my favorite themes to follow, or messages to send. Home isn't a place, it's the people you surround yourself with that make you the happiest. Whether that's family, a significant other, your best friends, that's what makes home. For these two, home has never been 'The Shire' or 'Ered Luin' or whatever places they've rested their head. I'm glad they both finally see that, and it's a message I like to put in a fair amount of my pieces, alongside some others.

And of course, another consistency that I love bringing into my pieces, Made of Sterner Stuff - based off of a one shot I did early on when posting my fics. Sick Thorin? Yes please. Plus, it's very fun to make fun of as he most certainly is not made of sterner stuff. Bilbo being the realistic one though and urging them to get out of the storm even thought it's "romantic and rainy"? That would be me.

This is nice and all, but...how about no?

As I said before, I wanted a scene you could picture, and one that would be remembered. Something that lived up to the epic expectations of Bagginshield and them finally spitting out the words we've been cheering them on to say. It might not be FIREFLIES and NORTHERN LIGHTS, but I sure as heck and happy with it and enjoy rereading it.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (30)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

Hunting. It's tiring by force when you run after a prey for hours. But the reward is more than pleasant when we finally find it. The fear that we read in their eyes, but also the pity... It's so satisfying. Their little cries asking to let them live. Sometimes it works. But usually, they die. It’s the law of nature. The strongest, the most agile, the most intelligent always gets by, the weaks die. But when you come across another predator, who wants to steal from you what belongs to you, the music is different. And in case you've forgotten, Danny doesn't like to share his things. Especially you.

If Jed promised you to do nothing about the server last time, this isn’t the case with Danny, and less with Ghostface. He intended to give him a good lesson. A lesson he can never forget, even if he died. He had finally found him, he was a replacement, he worked for another restaurant, in another nearby city. Poor guy... he's not even from here and he died for a simple... stupidity.

Danny will always remember his look. From the predator, this fool has become prey. He will always remember his words, begging him not to kill him. Like everyone else, in itself. Danny was too used to it. And the result is always the same: he kills them. this poor fool must never have dared to seduce you, NEVER. He has paid a high price for it. Certainly, he must have family, friends etc... But no one in Roseville will know about this story. Since he didn't live here.

Danny is already very nice to let his alter ego Jed take care of you; he will not let all the men approach you! However, a smile stretched over his face. This little tantrum you had during your last meeting, it's like you ordered him to kill this server. It was your little signature on the murder contract.  Of course, you still wanted to make the innocent little girl, who doesn’t want to harm anyone. But there... there you have to show a completely different facet. You haven’t explicitly said it, but the fact that you are tired of being seduced and taken for a weak as this "damn server!" said is more than enough for him.

“I knew you had your own dark side... my beautiful bird. Your little cage of purity begins to break... But you don't have to care... I would be there to take care of you.” He said to himself, looking at your picture.  

He kissed the picture before putting it in the drawer of his nightstand. He took the frame where the picture of Carla and him was. If only he could go back in time, he could have acted, he could have asked another doctor to treat her, to give her the right treatment. And she would still be there. But the time machine doesn’t exist. He has to deal with it. He rested the frame and prepared to go to work, today he will not be at the police station. Today he will be at Hoggins' House. Since he was accused of killing McKellan, he has been trying as best he can to exonerate himself. And it's a golden opportunity for Danny to spot places from the inside.

He took the opportunity to look in the mirror. The shy Jed disappeared little by little, leaving more room for Danny. And it was perfect, that's exactly what he wanted. The more he let himself go, the more his alter ego faded in your eyes. Soon, all that will remain of Jed is his name. And one day Danny will be able to reveal his identity to you. His TRUE identity. No more hiding. Danny pulled out his phone and called Mattew. It’s with him that he will interview Hoggins today. Melina, on the other hand, continues to work with the police.

“Hey Jeddy! How are you doing? Are you ready for the interview?” said Mattew cheerfully on the other line. Jeddy... a nickname that even Danny has become accustomed to over time. He wonders what nickname he would have given him with his real name.

“Hey Mattew I am fine, thank you. Of course, I'm ready, probably more than you. I'm sure you're not even dressed yet.” responds Danny chuckling.  

“Think again! I am dressed, my hair is done and I'm ready to go! I come to pick you up or you pick me up from my house?”

“I'm coming to pick you up. I haven’t forgotten what almost happened last time.”

“First, it wasn't me but the other big idiot in front and then I'm a very good driver! But if you want to pick me up... I'm not going to hold you back.” Mattew replied.  

“I got it... Chris took the car. Okay, I'm coming. Get ready, in 5 minutes I'm here. See you right away!” Answers Danny before hanging up and sighing. Mattew will never change.

But actually, within 5 minutes, Danny found himself in front of Mattew and Chris' house, and indeed, Chris had taken the car. According to Mattew, Chris had taken it to the mechanic to do a technical inspection of the vehicle. But knowing Chris.... The slightest screw will pass to the scanner. And it's likely to take the whole morning. It didn't take long to get to Hoggins' residence, as traffic was very fluid, Danny took the opportunity to press the accelerator. At least up to the maximum acceptance rate of the van. He parked not far from Hoggins' car, before getting off with Mattew from the vehicle. They headed for the front door and rang, only to be greeted by Hoggins himself.

“Ah, here you are! the little journalists of Roseville, but please come in! Your friend isn’t here?” Ask Hoggins with a smile.  

“Our colleague Melina has been sent elsewhere Mr...” starts Mattew.  

“No, I'm talking about the other girl... this adorable little bird of paradise that was with you at the reception...”

“(Y/N) doesn’t work at the newspaper. She was just accompanying us. I'M so lucky to have a girlfriend as adorable as her, indeed.” said Danny holding back from sticking his fist in his mouth.

“Oh...Well, congratulations then.” replied Hoggins, with a faint smile of disgust on his face.  

Hoggins guided them to the living room and asked his butler to prepare coffees. He returned a few minutes later and put the tray on the table before leaving. Danny mentally disfigured the man in front of him, if Hoggins also had views on you, then his fall and his death will be nothing but delightful.

“Very well gentlemen, I don’t know if your boss has warned you, but I have a very important appointment, so I may have to leave and shorten this interview. I apologise for that.” said Hoggins before taking a sip of coffee.  

“It won't take long, don't worry... 1 or 2h I think will be more than enough, Right Jed?” ask Mattew, taking Danny out of his macabre thoughts.

“Yes... it would be a shame if Mr. Hoggins missed such an important appointment because of us...” hisses Danny between his teeth without letting Hoggins out of sight... What a dirty pretentious asshole.

Mattew began asking the questions while Danny took notes as his answers progressed. He had started soft, asking him the origin of his rise in the American market. Then after an hour, it's Danny’s turn to ask the questions... and he's not going to go smoothly.

“Very well, Mr. Hoggins. As you know, you and Mr. McKellan are in the midst of a scandal about …" He started before being cut by Hoggins.

“Yes, I know, and I have replied to many of your colleagues that all this was just a plot from my previous partners who sank today. But do I really have anything to do with it? They didn't see things in a big way, that's what lost them.” responds Hoggins nonchalantly.

“Yes of course... But you also know that... you are accused of having ordered the murder of your partner Horace McKellan...because you think he was the one who broke this scandal.” replied Danny, with a slightly provocative look.

“And it's still a plot against me. Horace was a great partner and friend. Even though I accused him and threatened him... I could never have taken action. That’s unthinkable.”  

“You, no... but you could have hired someone. That is what you are accused of. Apparently, you would have chatting with a man three days before threatening McKellan. And given the appearance of the man... I suspect it wasn't to discuss garden and DIY.”

“This appointment... was in the domain of privacy mr Olsen... What we said to each other was about a completely different business than the one I had with Horace.”  

“I didn't know that a man of the high... was doing business with a notorious drug dealer. I wonder what kind of business you deal with together...” Replied Danny with a sneaky grin.  

“I'm sorry gentlemen but... I will have to end this interview. My appointment will not take long to arrive, I don’t want to make him wait, it would be ... counterproductive on my part. I hope, however, that I have been able to answer all your questions. My butler will accompany you.” answer Hoggins with the same grin.  

“You know what they say sir... sooner or later the rider will fall from his horse. And the fool will be locked up. Have a good day.”

The butler escorted Danny and Mattew to the door. Once outside, the two journalists got back into the van and Danny couldn't help but hit the steering wheel with his fists. This surprised Mattew who hadn't seen his colleague being angry before. And for once he lets go... it's really disturbing to think that he's quite inexpressive in nature. At least of what Danny kindly showed him.

“What a son of a bitch! I swear to that damn God that if I didn't hold back for job and Wilhelm's investigation, I would go back inside and I would smash his head against the wall!” said Danny flustered.  

“Calm down Jeddy... If he goes to jail, tell yourself that he will suffer. Already that when you are there, the other prisoners don’t give you gifts ... then a rich man like him, they will not miss him. Let's go eat and have a drink somewhere. It's going to relax you a little bit.” said Mattew, trying to appease him.

Danny sighed and set out to get back in town, with a little smile on his face. On the road, Mattew tried to relax the atmosphere, but it wasn't his jokes that made Danny laugh, but his colleague and friend's attempt to relax him. They stopped to take food and drink from a fast-food restaurant in the city. But as if the day wasn't already annoying enough, two guys approached them to steal them. Danny sighed, gently took off his glasses before giving them to Mattew. Then suddenly turns to punch one of the two men in the face, who fell to the ground. The second hit Danny in return, who punched back in the stomach and another in the head.

“It's good ?? you've had enough or I have to put a layer back?!” said Danny, threatening the two men by raising his fist.

The latter left without asking for their remains. Danny wiped his mouth with a hand gesture, noticing that he was bleeding a little. The blow was more violent than he had thought. He turned to Mattew who looked at him... stoic.

“What?”  

“Dude... This is the first time I've seen you hit someone. It's the day of surprises or what?” responds Mattew.  

“I told you... I'm nice as long as we're nice to me. But if we're not... I may not be very diplomatic. I was too walked on my mouth, when I was little, but today, it's over.”

The rest of the day was rather quiet after this incident. Danny had finally calmed down and with Mattew anyway, it was pretty hard not to calm down. They were both going to the newspaper to deposit what they have noted from Hoggins' interview and, on the way, have met Melina who had survived a full day with Wilhelm. What a miracle when you know her well. The trio greeted and separated, each returning home. Danny returned home, exhausted, and deep down, stills angry to see that Hoggins has views on you. Oh, his death will be a delight in his eyes... Oh, yes... Danny will enjoy it until the last second. As he walked into the building, heading towards his apartment, he saw you coming home as well, and given the way you walk, you look just as exhausted as he is. A smile came to his lips and he caught up with you as you were about to return to your apartment.

“Jed! You scared me...” you said with a sigh of relief.  

“Sorry my love. how did your day go?” asks Danny, with a little laugh.  

“I'm exhausted! we've had many, many, many people today. I believe that since I've been here, this is my most intense workday I've ever had. But... you’re hurt! What happened??”

“Nothing serious... let's say it wasn't a good day.”

“Go inside, I'll take care of it. And no discussion.”

“Yes Madam.” replied Danny, raising his hand before entering your appartement.  

While you were treating him on the lip, Danny told you about his day. He couldn't help but hiss as he felt the disinfectant on the wound. But that wasn’t what was most important to him. The most important thing was to see your reaction to all this, from the disgust with Hoggins, to the anxiety when he told you about the fight that took place in front of the fast-food restaurant. Fortunately, they had no weapons on them... otherwise, God only knows how it would have ended.

“My poor Jed... it wasn't your day... I'm done.” you said, storing disinfectant and cotton pads.

“Thank you, madam. I was wise... Could I have a lollipop as a reward?” respond Danny jokingly.  

“Very funny Jed. I don't have a lollipop but... I can give you that.”  

You kissed him as he kisses you back. Taking you gently by the waist to bring you back against him. Suddenly he felt something unusual, your hand descending gently to touch his ass. If that's what you wanted to give him... he will not refuse.

“Do you really want to venture into this field? Be careful Sweetie, once launched, no going back possible. And I can last all night if I have to.” said Danny with a grin.  

“Prove it. I can hold all night too.” you respond with a provocative look.  

It didn't take more for Danny to kiss you roughly, bringing you little by little to the room. Or you're the one who take him to your room?  No one can say. But Danny isn’t against it. He's been waiting for this for quite some time, and believe me, tonight ...the night is going to be long. You're going to ride his world, but he's going to rock yours.

This is the most beautiful way... to put his mark on you.

***

(And it’s done! I started to play RE Village recently and I'm in love with it! Even if I really freak out with that damn baby of Hell in Benevento’s House! XD I’m impatient to meet Heisenberg 👀...But first, I'm gonna kick Moreau’s ugly ass! I hope you’ll like this chapter like the others ones! Well, it's time for my brain to rest! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)