#musings ➜ farrow. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

taissaswifelowkey · 29 days ago

Text

playpen

pt i

pt ii

rhiannon and afab detective reader bc we need more detective readers???

a brilliant detective falls into the hands of a cunning journalist, literally and metaphorically

a/n: yeah i couldn’t wait anymore, sweetpea defender. i also got my knowledge from any fictional detective media i consume so don’t come for my neck please 🫤 the “obliviousness” is toned to an average amount, just the normal level if that makes sense? like the reader is not 100% clueless. they don’t interact a lot but i promise they will in the next chapter. thoughts are in italics and bold, proofread but knowing me there still might be mistakes left. i wanted to try something new but idk maybe it should have stay in the drafts. enjoy reading and drop feedback if you have any 🤠

warnings: for the sake of the plot some details have been changed but there are still major spoilers if you haven’t watched the entirety of sweetpea!! swearing, mentions of blood, implied use of other weapons, dead bodies, stabbing, murder, slightly obsessive behaviour, stalking, a few implicit suggestive thoughts but is is rather vague. purely self indulgent and GAY SOOOO GAY you already knowww

it starts below the cut 🙂‍↕️ (i also realise that placing the pictures before the indication looked better)

Another body found near an alley of a nightclub. He couldn’t be any more than forty, is neatly shaved and is dressed in a suit. Clearly, the killer has a preference of victims. There is obviously a pattern. Your colleague DCI Farrow sees it. She is the only one who understands that your seemingly small community has a serial killer looking around and doesn’t infantilise you like the rest of the crew, or tells you to not get carried away like your boss, DI Diane St-John. Just thinking about them makes you grit your teeth. What use is it to join the police and helping families if it’s to play ill jokes and pranks and dismissing you every chance they have? And frankly, this killer is starting to get on your nerves. All credibility that you successfully kept is getting tossed and the same goes for Miranda.

You crouch down, assessing the man’s corpse. Fourteen stab wounds in all. Neck, chest, abdomen and hands are impacted. Viciously impacted.

“It never gets prettier, does it?” A voice muses beside you. Farrow looks down at the man, a slight despaired tone in her voice.

With a scoff you stand up, sparing the body one last glance before you pull out your notepad.

“If only it could just get easier for us.” You mutter. She hums, looking ahead as a small crowd of journalists gathered near the crime scene.

“In any case, they’re getting the attention they wanted.”

“You think they want to get noticed?”

She flips through her notes and beckons to come forward. “See here? They didn’t even wait for a week, not even three days before they hit again. Literally.”

“People like me, men like me are in danger! We want answers!” You both snap your heads to a man dressed in neon. Deciding to keep Farrow’s theory in mind, you march to the man, slowly raising your hands and putting yourself between St-John, who was just sputtering at the man’s words. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen her this speechless.

“Sir, please calm down—”

“Oh. Oh, I see what’s going on around here. What’s next you’re going to tell me to take a sip of water? Ask me if, I don’t know, my monthly testosterone levels are rising again?”

Is this guy serious?

“You’ll get put in a cell where you can calm down your testosterone levels, if that’s what you wish.” You simply stated, your stare locked on his. Two journalists stifle a laugh and get a warning glance from the volatile man.

“I now understand what it's like to be on the other side. From then on, consider me a feminist:”

And with that he shakes his head, leaving a bewildered Diana and a confused Farrow.

The remaining journalists leave the scene and coroners ask if they can carry the body away.

“The ball’s in your court now.” Diane shrugs, leaving before you could even utter a word about the theories you came up with.

Always welcome to hearing out others that one isn’t she.

And then a week passed and you were in your office meticulously piecing everything together on your own. Farrow got the credit card details of all the partygoers who attended the nightclub the evening of the murder. You set the file aside, mulling over your reasonings.

It makes sense. Same patterns, same type of victims. The killer’s got an MO. That helps. What doesn’t, is your crew thinking you and Farrow are completely deluded. So much so that someone thought it was funny to hide your PC, with a note attached on it which read Thought I might give you a break. Don’t wanna see our favourite detective get a burnout cos you’re the only one who actually refills the coffee machine xx

Pinching your forehead, you open your laptop and profile your victims, verifying their last whereabouts to give you a clear start. The last victim was at a nightclub. Anyone who was there could potentially be a suspect.

You peer at the file and scan down names of every credit card holder. You figure you’d do half and Farrow would take care of the rest.

It was funny that you found yourself interrogating the yelling man, whose name you found out is Jeff.

“It would be great if you could, I don’t know, maybe pass a message? Perhaps to the families? Don’t you realise the gravity of our situation here?” He sputters. You already feel a headache approaching and are this close to dismissing him. He swirls the cup of non dairy coffee and swallows it in one gulp like it’s a shot.

“Sir, I promise you we are doing everything that we can. Being cooperative and understanding would help—”

“There you go again with the keep calm thing. Don’t tell me to be calm. You know I can write a report about you in The Gazette, right? Yeah?Because I literally work there. And now I really want to get on that article so I’m going to be very quick. I went with my team to the club, we had drinks, a karaoke session, then I went home.”

A fly lands on his head, to which he aggressively bats away. He’s evidently aggravated and you think it’s best to let him off. Besides, you had to give it to him. His stories match his other colleagues. Everyone working at The Gazette were together.

You feel like you had a fresh breath of air once Jeff left your office. Working with him must be a pain.

The last person you had to interrogate was Rhiannon Lewis. You recognise her as one of the journalists who laughed at Jeff. You would too. The colour of his clothes were just as loud as his personality.

She looked nervous, holding on to her purse, her doe flickering everywhere before landing on yours. Usually…this kind of behaviour would be taken into account. But perhaps she has never been called in by the police before?

“Rhiannon Lewis, is it?”

You greeted her and presented yourself, trying to make her feel a bit at ease, extending your hand to her. Her skin is so soft and featherlight it’s a barely there contact. The touch grounds her to reality for a bit. She almost didn’t let go until you spoke again.

“Thank you for coming here. Also you can sit, you know?”

With a tight lipped smile, she nodded and sat down. Putting the purse on the floor she cleared her throat and slowly inhaled.

“It’s not a problem Officer…Detective?”

“Either which is alright. And don’t worry about the procedure. I’ll just ask a couple of questions and then you can go, alright? Can you do that?”

She feels herself cooling down a couple degrees, the soft yet directive tone carried in your voice sending her chills.

“…Yes.”

“Good.”

Though she doesn’t think she’d be able to. Not with your large shirt. Or the way your sleeves are rolled. And this weird scenario that she swears she’s seen in awfully written romance books.

“So, you and your team had a get together, right?”

“That’s…that’s correct. I’m just…how did you get to call all of us down by the station?”

“We traced your credit card information. Anyone who’s had drinks were called up here.”

“Ah.”

Be careful, Rhi. And stop acting like you did it. Nothing happened. Technically.

She should’ve let Craig pay for the drinks when he had his chance at being the gentleman he insisted he was.

“Mhm. So, can you tell me what went on that evening?”

Was it possible to find a sound attractive? Maybe it was the way you paired it up with a small nod. Or how you leant in and she caught a whiff of your woodsy fragrance.

Berating herself for having the mind of a teenager, she collected herself for a split second before answering your question.

“I had a couple of drinks with my coworkers, then we held a karaoke session. After paying for my drinks I went out with someone.”

Of course that was before she could stab that man. The same one she’d seen around, sitting down next to people when other empty seats were available. Even sat next to a teenager who had to hop off their next stop.

“Can that someone perhaps vouch for you?”

You kept an impassive face though your eyes were trained on her fingers and the way she twirled them. Noticing, she brought her fingers on your desk.

She was odd. Similar to that of a suspect. The way she was nervous to the point of looking like she’d melt on the spot. Then again…it could just mean she’s an anxious person.For someone who sang in front of a couple of people, you think that’s impressive and kind of brave.

“Would it be convenient to you if I said yes?”

She blurted all of a sudden, the words leaving her. She felt her own eyes widen a fraction but it’s not entirely regretted either, the crease between your eyebrows egging her on.

“I’m sorry?”

“Would it help if I told you yes, I spent the other half of my night with a date? Who by the way partially left me unsatisfied if that’s even possible. Maybe I’m just emotionally connected to people.”

Your apathetic expression is losing its composure, being replaced by utter confusion. She thinks it’s a better look for you, it gives her tidbits of aspects of who you were.

“It would be greatly appreciated if you could just maybe answer the questions Miss Lewis.”

She’s trying. She really is. But she’s concentrated on the way you’re saying her name. She wonders how you would sound if you said her first name, how she would sound if—

“So, you were on a date then. What’s their name?”

“Craig.”

And how can he be selfish enough to leave her alone would be perhaps your next question. You wonder if she knew anyone there who might have offered her comfort. Perhaps that guy she was laughing with. Wait…why are you even curious?

“Alright. I didn’t see his credit card information so we’ll have to give him a call. Could you perhaps leave his number?”

You ask but you are already pushing a piece of paper and pen her way. She shouldn’t have looked at your hands.

“For professional purposes, right? He’s not very good at answering messages. Believe it or not, our texts are filled with thumbs up emojis.”

She bitterly laughs as she scribbles the number before handing it back to you. You hate how the sound of her laughter causes your heart to skip one, two beats.

Shaking your head at your train of thought, you moved to stand up and lead her at the threshold.

The interrogation’s over already?

“Hey…you’ll catch them, won’t you?”

That same confused expression that her brain captures takes over your face again. Apparently she might have developed a thing for it.

“I was talking about the killer?”

“Oh, right. Yeah. Yeah we’ll catch them. I can’t promise you when but…we’ll do anything we can.”

Her gaze makes you feel unsteady. The room feels crowded with the way her eyes are honed in on yours.

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. This affects me greatly as it does the rest of the community, Detective.”

“We understand a case like this can make you feel worried. It’s not nothing you don’t know already, but walk in public spaces, contact your friends and family before and after work and check up on them as well.”

At that, her demeanour changes, for just an instant. Her shoulders are slumped, her eyes flickering between yours.

“My family situation is…complicated. And I don’t have any friends to talk to.”

You don’t know why you did it. Of course, you do the same for everyone but only under specific circumstances and conditions.

You rush for one of your many cards with your name, clumsily so. She looks at it curiously before you move to clarify.

“In case you have anything that might help the case or if you…need anything. You’re not alone.”

She’d believe anything you tell her. With one last smile, she shook your hand again, lightly squeezing it.

“I hope so, Detective.”

Quickly leaving your office before she let out another ridiculous sentence, she took a deep breath and left the station, your card in her hands.

She’ll have research on her hands. Maybe, hopefully, you won’t forget her and place her in the back of your mind.

A twisted thought isn’t it? It’s almost as if she’s begging to get caught.

▸

Only a few days have passed, the card on her table taunting her whenever she’d pass by with Craig. Though she never lost sight of it. Always keeping it nearby. Whether that be at home, or at work…or even during her nightly escapades with her knife. It feels weird but she feels a whole lot different, a whole lot better knowing a metaphorical part of you is there with her.

It’s a shame what one can find with just a simple first and last name. And you just had to be one of these people who kept things under the radar.

You had no socials, only basic public information. However she was lucky to stumble upon a newspaper that had a picture of you holding a cat and someone cradling a sleeping puppy sitting next to you. You were volunteering at an animal shelter. Cute, she thought. It was a green flag to like animals. She felt oddly sad, being reminded of Tink’s death. You being an animal lover was the perfect thing for her.

You were wearing casual clothes that day, your professional oversized button shirt switched for something simple. In the article you mentioned how having a cat helped you grow up, and you adopted your first pet at the shelter and met your best friend at the same time. You also talk about your favourite hobbies and random things that you call silly but that just sends a pang to her heart.

There’s this one coffee place that has a booth near a window, all the way at the back. It’s heavenly and kind of underrated. I always go there when I’m in need of quiet.

I won’t say I have a lot of favourite hobbies, but I do like to collect rocks and trinkets. Sometimes you’d see me with a rock after I’m back from running.

She could listen, at least theoretically, to you all day. You were the mellow, soft type. Not the same person she saw that day on the crime scene, where she had to disguise her nerves by laughing at whatever nonsense Jeff was complaining about.

Unfortunately she didn’t get much information, not even simple clues. Not even out of your friend, who only used a first name for the article. Even then, it could be a made up one. She was hoping to perhaps get anything she needs to know about from you from them on a social page but things have gotten complicated.

You’re complicated. You’re making her feel complicated. Why does she want to be noticed by you, like you’re the only one who could ever really afford to?

“Rhi?” A voice startles her from her dreams of your hands again. She knocks over her tea, splashing all over her table. And the files she printed.

“Shit, shit—”

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t move.” The kind voice, her colleague AJ, grabs napkins from her desk and helps her clean. He does so with a soft reassuring smile. “I take it has been a long week since Norman’s finally put you to real work?”

“Something like that.”

She thanks him as she closes the tabs before turning her attention to the brunette, who’s wearing a wry grin. AJ, despite being a nepo baby, was the only one who ever really noticed her in the office. As in, he fully acknowledges her. Not like the rest of the team. But the degree of attention she feels towards him is different than what she feels towards you. Slightly different.

He smiles and nods to her again, shifting his weight on his foot. “Well if you’re not too busy we could perhaps go for coffee?”

“Isn’t our break in five minutes?”

“Family privileges.”

He shrugs, raising a slight eyebrow.

Okay?

She looks at her screen one last time before returning his warm expression. Though she’s Shute she looks like she’s trying to force a smile out of her.

“That is kind of you but I’d rather not. I mean, I’m still new to the editorial team and I’d really hate to give a bad impression, you know?”

“Oh.”

He really tried to hide his disappointment. He really did. But the slight quiver in his voice and his tip lipped grin gave him away.

“Maybe another time, then.”

“Another time.”

And with that he nodded before leaving, leaving her to pick up where she left off.

▸

Rhiannon Lewis was a phenomenon. You’ve never seen anyone like her, really. And you don’t think of her uniqueness as something negative. She’s peculiar, odd…but there are many layers that might make up who she is. That’s what you want to do. To peel off those layers off her. Find out who she is. Your notes seem to cover enough of her information…surface level information. What you’re doing is risky. Maybe slightly deranged. But this is all for the sake of your…well. The investigation.

What you’ve gathered so far about her is that she works for The Gazette. Her father recently passed away and owns a moving company. She has a sister.

You called in the supposed Craig who spent the night with her and her alibi seemingly checked out. And seemingly is used very lightly, here. He was kind of confused at your use of the term “date” instead of “boyfriend” before confirming that yes, they spent the night, all night in his bed. Cool. Great.

“It was great until she left in the morning…she wasn’t that kind of girl before. Between you and me, she was rather the clingy type. She would stay on for two hours after.”

That made you want to tell him not to give private details but you’d take anything you can get.

As soon as he left, you wrote prone to attachments to your notebook along with a couple of traits you briefly witnessed. shy, nervous, plays with her fingers, blinks her eyes more than necessary.

Right under those traits were written all the details of the night of the murder. The victim was murdered before she got to spend the night…or have her date, whatever, with Craig. She said she paid for her drinks, stayed at the bar then left with Craig at the time of murder. Her alibi checks out. Right?

Although something is evidently not adding up.

At all. There are still many, many questions on the tip of your tongue. The first one being what is she doing with a guy like Craig among many others.

And you’re wrecking your brain trying to understand it. Miranda has shared her doubts about her. You both went to St-John, trying to get her to see that something is off but all she answered you with was a "I'd really hate to give you a long week break if you come to me again with this serial killer nonsense."

Judging by Rhiannon's character, calling her in back would push her away. You did give her your number and encouraged her to call you in case of anything so by the looks of it, she has to take the first step. But if she doesn't answer and refuses to meet with you, that will be a cause of pinning her as a prime suspect. You're sure she's smart enough to not do that.

"She's off."

No hesitations on Farrow's part. You thought she would at least wait a few minutes before theorising an idea. This does reassure you in a certain way. You weren’t insane for thinking that Rhiannon is more than what she seems.

So you call her.

And wait.

You do tread lightly, though. Very lightly. It's not like your fingers were trembling whilst you were calling her number. Not at all.

Taking a deep breath, you hear the phone ring for a few seconds before a voice answers it.

“Hello? Detective?”

How did she know it was you on the first call? Was she somehow hoping it was you? Or were you just plain delusional and perhaps a bit insane.

“Miss Lewis? I was wondering if you could maybe come down to the station. When you have time, of course. I talked to your boyfriend about your alibi and would like to review a few things.”

You hear shuffling sounds then…something breaking?

“Shit, shit—”

“Miss Lewis? Is everything alright?”

Nothing was alright.

She was doing the dishes, peacefully as one could on a Friday evening. It’s been weeks since she’s last seen you. Or rather heard you. Your voice held a certain warmth to it. And although her eyes loved to memorise every detail about your face, her brain wanted to store your sound.

“Fine. I’m fine.”

“I can always call another time if you’re busy—”

“No! I mean…don’t. I’m not busy. I mean I’m not doing anything important at the moment. Just…what is happening? Is everything okay?”

She puts you on speaker while cleaning the shards of glass, careful to not hurt herself while also trying to listen to you.

“Are you sure?”

“Please. I’m not occupied at the moment, I’m at home. Alone.”

Why did she feel the need to add that information?

“Alright. Well. It’s to inform you that I talked with your boyfriend and he confirmed your alibi. If it would be alright, there are other things I would like to go over with—”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Right, your date—”

She laughs, an airy type of laugh that sends a strange swirl to your abdomen.

“I’m actually not sure if he can be considered a date either. When you think of it, it looks too much of a strong word, no? Sure we see each other maybe twice a week. But a date is just a one time thing. This…whatever this is, is some sort of weird non-verbal agreement.”

“…Uh-huh. Would you care to tell me more about it whenever you can?”

“More about who I’m seeing?”

This woman was driving you wherever she wanted you to. Pinching your eyebrows and fighting back an incoming headache, you think of what to say before diving into…this. Whatever this was.

“More about your evening. What you were doing before you were at the bar. And before you met up with Craig.”

“And here I thought you were interested in what I was doing now.”

She dusts the remaining shards, accidentally cutting herself at the sound of your sigh. It’s just a small cut. But she’s still pissed off at how you’re able to render her weak.

“Rhiannon…”

“You’re calling me by my first name? We are making a lot of progress here. Next is, what, we meet somewhere for coffee?”

“Miss Lewis. Please.”

“Yes, Detective?”

“Concentrate on what I’m saying. We can go anywhere you want us to. But now I’m focused on trying to gather all essential information to move forward and avoid wasting both of our time.”

“You’re not wasting mine, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

In fact she wants you to waste all of it.

“Is there a time you’d like to meet up, then?”

Deciding that your nerves are too tired to decipher anything properly, you play along with her game, blindly, and just focus on her words, mindlessly agreeing with her.

“We can meet up at this coffee place. I will call you over the weekend and let you know when I’m available. My job might keep me busy.”

“Whenever you wish to, Miss Lewis.”

“It will be quick, I promise.”

She shortly hands up after that. Your heart is still hammering in your chest, your hands clenching the landline as your mind races.

Where have you landed? What have you landed yourself on? Do you want to get out of it? Of this weird latch cause by her?

#sweetpea #sweetpea 2024 #rhiannon lewis sweetpea #rhiannon lewis #rhiannon lewis x reader #wlw #wlw post #wlw yearning #lgbtq #bisexual #ITS HEREEE #I had to do it multiple times #I didn’t want it to be slow or fast paced #still don’t know what this is #RHIANNON LEWIS RIGHTS #so it’s not that insane. it’s pretty tame #i think #taissaswifelowkey

65 notes · View notes

ruinlost · 2 years ago

Text

@erabundus

me: good night <3

my brother: haven’t had it yet

me, used to this response: well, you better

me: this is a threat

#[>farrow musings]#erabundus #I—I just feel they’ve had a conversation like this at least once #at some point HEHDH #idk if it can go either way but the vibes are there JFH

16 notes · View notes

gliphyartfan · 2 months ago

Text

@yanderelinkeduniverse @stars-for-thought @imprisioned-in-the-hole @screaming-until-god-hears-me @crestfallenmermaidan @ice-cream-writes-stuff @linked-heroes @eternadreeblissa

Hey look! New stuff that isn’t a rewrite!

A thanks to Yandy for inspiring me! It was fun adding something super goofy to Mafia Au!

Teeechnically there’s nothing Yandere or mafia in this but, it’s in the Au so it counts! Consider this a filler!

(The named OCs (minus the Dean of course.)that are connected to (y/n) belong to Yandy so if you got questions about them, ask thaaat lovely lass.)

Anywho, enjooooy!

———

————-

———

It’s a warm afternoon, the sun lazily stretching its rays across the bustling college campus. Students crowd the quad, gathered around a hastily assembled stage.

A buzz thrums through the air, fueled by the promise of an announcement that has everyone on edge. (Y/n) stands with her back against one of the quad’s large trees, arms crossed, looking relaxed yet curious.

Beside her, Tess lounges on the grass, her knees pulled up.

Nic leans against the tree trunk beside her, arms folded, eyes scanning the crowd.

“It’s a shame Jack’s still helping out mom and dad,” (Y/n) muses, glancing at the chaotic crowd. “She’d love this, but she won’t be back in time.”

Tess chuckles, “Lucky for us you mean. She’d probably destroy all of us in whatever madness they’re cooking up.”

(Y/n) smiles, nodding. “True. It’s probably for the best.”

The day seemed too calm, almost as if the entire campus was waiting for something to happen. Tess tilts her head towards (Y/n), her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Think it’s going to be good?” she asks, barely containing a grin.

(Y/n) shrugs, trying to stay casual but the tension is starting to crawl into her posture.

“Depends on the prize. If it’s another pizza party, I’m not losing a limb over it.”

Nic, who’d been pretending not to care, finally speaks up.

“If they’re gathering this many people, it’s not gonna be a pizza party. You don’t rally the entire campus for cheap cardboard and cheese.”

The trio falls into a watchful silence as the Dean finally steps up to the microphone, looking far too pleased with himself.

The guy had the aura of someone who believed he’d found the next viral college stunt, like this one genius idea was going to get him written into school legend.

The Dean, in a suit just a little too tight, beams at the students, raising his hands like a conquering hero.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming! Today we have an announcement that will change the next two weeks for ALL of you!” He pauses for effect, and it’s clear he’s basking in the suspense.

Tess, with a casual smirk, mutters, “Hope he’s wearing something waterproof. This crowd’s gonna riot if he says ‘raffle tickets’.”

Dean Farrow clears his throat and grins like a man about to drop a bombshell.

“As you all know, it’s time for our annual campus-wide paintball tournament!”

There’s a faint murmur of excitement, but it’s restrained. Paintball was a yearly thing, fun, but nothing that would send the campus into a frenzy.

(Y/n) raises an eyebrow. “Paintball? Again? That’s it?”

“As you all know, last year’s paintball tournament was canceled due to the campus renovations.”

Disgruntled murmurs were heard throughout the crowd. (Y/n) could relate. No one had been happy last year.

The Dean cleared his throat. “But this year… it’s back!”

The murmurs grew louder, anticipation rising. Nic raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but trying to play it cool. Tess was already bouncing on the balls of her feet.

The Dean continued, oblivious to the rising storm in front of him. “Now, let’s talk prizes! For the runner up, an all expenses paid spa weekend!”

A few cheers and claps sounded, but nothing too enthusiastic.

“Better than a pizza party!” Tess chirped.

But the Dean wasn’t finished.

“This year, though, we’ve decided to up the stakes. The grand prize for the last person standing—” He pauses again for dramatic effect. “Will be priority registration for next semester and the option to skip one final exam!”

For a second, the world seems to stop. Everyone in the quad freezes. The trio looks stunned. It’s the kind of silence so intense you could hear a pin drop on grass.

“Now students, the tournament will begin—”

A single scream tears through the air as some random student, no doubt acting on pure instinct, whips out a hidden paintball pistol and shoots his friend square in the chest. Bright yellow paint splatters across his shirt as he stumbles back, but the action sets off a chain reaction.

Hell breaks loose.

Students dive for cover, pull paintball guns from their bags, jackets, and God knows where else. Some bolt for the bushes. Others start forming alliances on the fly. The crowd disperses like wildfire, everyone scrambling to avoid being the first casualty as the Dean attempts to control the sudden chaos he unleashed.

“S-Students wait! The tournament won’t be for another-!!” He ducks as several paintballs were shot at him.

Tess, cackling like a madwoman, is already on her feet, using her bag to knock down a student that tried to sneak up on them.

“Now that is a prize worth fighting for!”

Nic, already frowning but with a glint of anticipation in his eyes, pulls a small paintball gun from his satchel.

(Y/n) blinks. “Why do you—”

“I’m not flunking a final because I have to memorize another 400 pages of economics.”

Just as Nic grabs Tess and (Y/n) by their arms, dragging them toward the nearest set of bushes, Tess glances at (Y/n) and says, “Actually, it’s a good thing Jack’s not here. She’d win this in a heartbeat, and we’d all be toast.”

(Y/n) nods, ducking as a paintball whizzes past them. “Yeah, she’d mop the floor with us.”

Nic, who was now crouched behind the dense greenery, adds with a smirk, “You’re not wrong. We’d all be out before we even got started.”

As the chaos erupts around them, (Y/n) peeks over the top of the bench, watching the pandemonium unfold in the quad. Paintballs fly in every direction, splattering students left and right.

A couple of nerds are already hiding under the admin building’s steps, shouting something about regrouping.

“What the hell is happening right now??” (Y/n) gasps, trying to catch her breath.

“Natural selection,” Nic answers, crouched beside them, his eyes darting around like a man possessed. “Okay, here’s the plan.”

Tess grins. “The plan is: we win.”

Nic, already firing at a group of art students rushing them, gives Tess a look. “That’s not a plan.”

“It’s all I need,” Tess retorts, shooting at two students passing by.

Nic rolls his eyes. “The real plan is: we find a safe place, avoid the jocks, they’ll be in full attack mode, and stay clear of the chess club. Those guys play dirty. Trust me.”

“The chess club?” Tess asks, raising an eyebrow.

Nic nods gravely. “They’re organized, strategic, and ruthless. Don’t underestimate them.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Shut up.”

(Y/n) groaned, leaning back against the bush. "Nic, we don’t even have enough paintball guns!"

Tess grinned, pulling a paintball gun from seemingly nowhere and handing it to (Y/n). "Here, you’re gonna need this."

(Y/n) blinked at her in shock. "Where did you—"

Tess jabbed her thumb in the direction of a guy lying on the ground a few feet away, struggling to get back up. “Borrowed it.”

Nic smirked. "Nice work, Tess."

“Alright,” he continued, his voice lowering as he glanced over the quad. “We need to move. Now.”

Just then, Nic froze, his eyes narrowing. “Crap. Chess club. Twelve o’clock.”

They all whipped their heads in the direction Nic was looking and sure enough, several members of the chess club were efficiently taking people out with precise shots, their strategy impeccable.

“RUN!” Nic shouted, and the three of them bolted from their hiding spot, sprinting across the quad, ducking behind anything they could find.

——

The manor was unusually quiet, save for the idle hum of conversation among the Chain. The air was thick with the smell of wood polish and the faint echo of footsteps across the hardwood floors.

Warriors leaned back in his chair, wiping a stray smear of blood off his gauntlet while Sky whittle away at a small block of wood , the room basked in the rare moments of calm they were afforded between missions.

“Ugh,” Warriors groaned, tossing the rag onto the table. “I swear, grinding bones after severing limbs is such a hassle. I’ve said it a hundred times, it’s way easier to just grind the body as a whole. Saves time.”

Wind, lounging nearby with a playful smirk, chimed in, “Or, you know, you could just feed the whole bodies to pigs. That’d solve your problem in no time. Pigs’ll eat everything.”

Time, who had been writing a report across from Sky, didn’t even look as he calmly spoke to Wind, his voice measured and even. “Wind is not allowed to assist with body disposal for a month.”

“What?!” Wind protested, sitting up straight. “Again?!? Come on! I’m being punished just for making suggestions now? It's a good idea! The pigs back home could-“

Twilight chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re weird about the pigs, Wind. You use them like you use those seagulls, way too much enthusiasm for… clean-up.”

“That’s different!” Wind huffed, crossing his arms. “Pigs are just… practical.”

"Uh-huh," Four muttered sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as he turned the page of his book.

Meanwhile, Hyrule sat on the couch, scrolling through his phone with a vague smile, half-listening to the chatter around him. Time, however, was only pretending to read the report in front of him. His blank expression hid the mental whirlwind after he decided to check on how (Y/n)’s paintball game was going on his phone.

The screen in front of him showed what could only be described as a literal war zone on campus, students running, screaming, and paintballs flying in every direction like some kind of apocalyptic battle.

Time’s eyebrows rose. How had it devolved into this so quickly? He knew about the prize, but he hadn’t anticipated this level of chaos from a bunch of college students. He forced himself to remain outwardly calm, though his blank expression became more strained with each passing second.

Just then, Hyrule’s phone buzzed. He blinked and frowned slightly at the unknown number, hesitating before answering. “Hello?”

There was a brief moment of silence, then (Y/n)’s frantic, breathless voice exploded through the phone.

“SEND DUDES! AND NOT TIME, CAUSE I DON’T TRUST HIS DEPTH PERCEPTION!”

Time’s eye twitched sharply at her comment, and for a brief second, the other Links swore they saw a vein pop on his forehead. He grunted quietly in annoyance but remained silent, though his expression was growing more strained by the second. He was still distracted by the chaos unfolding on his screen-paintballs flying everywhere, students diving behind cover, and… was that someone wearing a trash can as armor?

“What-” Hyrule started to say, but before he could get a full sentence out, there was another crash on (Y/n)’s end of the line.

“NIC, BEHIND YOU! NO, NOT THAT WAY-“

(Y/n)’s voice came back, still chaotic but trying to sound cheery. “Anyway, gotta go, good luck! See you soon!” And with that, the call abruptly ended.

The room was silent for a beat, everyone waiting for Hyrule to explain. Time didn’t seem to notice the stares, his eyes still glued to his screen, watching the unfolding mayhem with thinly veiled fascination and horror.

“What was that about?” Four asked, leaning forward, his face a mixture of concern and confusion.

Hyrule pocketed his phone and glanced around the room. “Uh… (Y/n) needs help. She said they’re in the middle of something, and-” he paused, glancing awkwardly at Time, “-she, uh… doesn’t want you to come. Something about your depth perception?”

Time’s eye twitched again. His lips pressed into a thin line, but he stayed silent, though the tension radiating off him was palpable.

Warriors snorted. “She’s never gonna let you live that down.”

Time’s expression remained unreadable, but his fingers twitched as though he were imagining the penal he’d perform on her. He forced himself to exhale through his nose slowly, pretending to look calm.

Twilight, chuckling, grabbed his bag. “We should head out. Sounds like she’s in the middle of some chaos.”

Wind slung his bag over his shoulder with a grin. “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s just a tournament, right?”

Four rolled his eyes as he followed Wind. “Yeah, because ‘just a tournament’ always ends in a disaster with us.”

Twilight laughed and nodded in agreement.

As the Chain started heading toward the door, Time remained seated, his expression still unreadable. The others gave him a curious glance, but he waved them off. “I’ve got other matters to handle.”

Once the door clicked shut behind them, Time let out a long, slow exhale, his carefully constructed calm mask slipping. His eyebrow twitched one last time before he muttered under his breath, “I’ve got half a mind to go down there myself and put a paintball between her eyes…my depth perception is fine.”

He stared at the screen.

. . .

Chaos continued.

. . .

He sighed.

——

. . . . . . . . . .

——

The group arrived at the college, their boots barely making a sound on the eerily quiet campus.

The air was unusually still, lacking the lively hum of students that Hyrule had described. Warriors narrowed his eyes as they walked further in, his instincts kicking in immediately, scanning the area for any sign of trouble.

“This is… strange,” Four commented, his gaze sweeping across the empty grounds. “Shouldn’t there be more…people around?”

“Yeah,” Hyrule agreed, glancing over his shoulder as though expecting (Y/n) to pop out from behind a tree. “Way too quiet.”

As they ventured further down the pathway, their pace slowed when they began to notice the state of the campus.

Banners hung torn and ragged, some barely fluttering in the faint breeze. Tables and chairs were scattered across the walkways, overturned with legs bent at odd angles. Posters were ripped apart, their remnants littering the ground like confetti after a storm.

“Looks like something went down here,” Wind muttered, eyes narrowing as he nudged aside a crumpled banner with his foot.

Warriors crouched near an overturned chair, his expression unreadable. “Stay on guard.”

They moved toward the heart of the campus, the atmosphere tense. The quad, once vibrant and bustling with students, now resembled a battlefield. Tables and chairs were toppled over, barricades had been hastily thrown together, and the occasional smear of paint marked various surfaces.

“I’ve seen war zones cleaner than this,” Four remarked, both baffled and somewhat impressed as he took in the chaotic scene.

“Where are all the students?” Twilight’s voice was tight, his eyes scanning every corner of the quad.

Warriors’ eyes flicked to the closed doors of the cafeteria on the far side. “We’ll find out.”

The group approached the doors cautiously, the silence growing heavier with each step. Warriors reached out to open the door, his hand mere inches from the handle when-

BAM!

The doors flew open, and a student tumbled out, barely managing to roll to their feet. More students followed, sprinting out after them, eyes wide with panic. They ducked behind cover as a barrage of paintballs zipped through the air from inside the cafeteria.

The heroes barely dodged as a few stray paintballs whizzed past, hitting the walls behind them.

“What the-” Wind exclaimed, jumping aside to avoid being hit.

They all exchanged glances before cautiously peeking into the cafeteria. What they saw inside was chaos in its purest form.

Students were ducking behind upturned tables and hastily constructed barricades, some scrambling for cover while others fired paintball guns from behind makeshift shields.

However, the level of paint on each participant varied, those with more splatters were lingering on the outskirts of the room, making their way to designated “out” zones where they waited with mild frustration. Others, still largely untouched, remained deep in the fray, determined to emerge victorious.

Hyrule, crouching behind the door frame , stared at the scene in disbelief. “Is this… is this what school is like now?”

Four, beside him and inspecting a large splatter of paint on the wall, furrowed his brow. “It’s like a battle… but with paint? Why are they taking it so seriously?”

Warriors squinted, scanning the room for any familiar face. “This has to be the tournament (Y/n) mentioned… and it looks like she’s in the middle of it.”

Wind, eyeing the students who had just bolted outside, grinned. “Well, I guess we’re jumping in.”

“Let’s find (Y/n) and get her out of this,” Four added, already strategizing their next move.

With determined expressions, they pushed into the cafeteria, weaving through the mayhem while dodging the constant splatter of paintballs. Whatever mess (Y/n) had found herself in, the Chain was about to find out.

——

—

Warriors, Twilight, Hyrule, Four, and Wind ducked low as they weaved through the chaos of the college campus. Paintballs whizzed past them, splattering on walls, floors, and the occasional student who didn’t move fast enough.

The paintball guns they had snagged from fallen participants were a welcome relief, helping them fend off incoming attacks and maintain some semblance of control in the ongoing mayhem.

The campus felt like a war zone, desks and chairs overturned, students screaming and shouting as they dove behind cover. Paint splattered walls lined their path, but the group pressed forward, dodging fire and returning shots when necessary.

“How do they even have this much ammo?” Four muttered, pausing to reload his paintball gun as they moved deeper into the school.

“I don’t know, but I’m running low,” Wind grumbled, shaking his gun and checking the chamber. “Why do I always end up in these situations?”

Warriors chuckled, eyes gleaming as he fired a few shots in return. “It’s not so bad. Good practice, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, but no one’s actually dying,” Hyrule muttered, sounding a little uneasy as he ducked behind an overturned desk for cover.

Twilight fired off a few quick shots, covering their retreat as they dashed into another hallway. “Stay sharp. We still don’t know who’s controlling this madness, and we haven’t found (Y/n) yet.”

The echoes of paintball guns firing filled the corridor as they navigated through the chaos.

The action was intense, but it wasn’t long before things took a turn. Wind and Four, distracted by the onslaught, suddenly found themselves separated from the others, their backs pressed against a wall as two paint-splattered club members (mountain climbing club by the logo on their shirts) approached with fresh guns at the ready.

“Wind! out of ammo?” Four asked, quickly assessing the situation as the two club members drew closer.

“Yeah, I’m tapped,” Wind muttered, glancing nervously at the pair stalking toward them. “And these two look like they mean business.”

The club members raised their paintball guns, smirking as they prepared to fire.

Just as things looked bleak, a rapid series of shots rang out, and both club members were hit from behind, neon paint splattering across their backs. They yelped in surprise, stumbling forward before dramatically collapsing onto the ground, “defeated.”

Wind and Four blinked in surprise, staring at the paint-covered students for a moment before turning to see Tess standing a few feet away, her own paintball gun held confidently in hand. Her combat getup, though splattered with paint, gave her an air of authority.

“Come with me if you want to live!” Tess shouted dramatically.

One of the downed students groaned weakly from the ground, raising a hand. “No one’s actually dying…”

Tess immediately shot them again, causing the student to flinch and scramble for cover. “Shut it!” she barked, not missing a beat.

Wind and Four exchanged glances before quickly deciding to follow her. They dashed forward, Tess leading them through the chaos with expert precision. Her eyes constantly scanned their surroundings, ever vigilant.

“Good timing!” Wind called out as they caught up.

Tess glanced over her shoulder. “You’re the guys who know those other two! The one with the scars and the other with the pink streak in his hair. What were their names again?”

“That’s Wild and Legend,” Wind replied.

“Weird names,” Tess commented with a grin. “I love it.”

“Where’s (Y/n)?” Four asked, narrowly dodging a stray paintball as they rounded a corner.

“She’s with our friend Nic,” Tess answered, never breaking stride. “I’m Tess, by the way. But listen, this paintball tournament has gone way past fun.” She paused for a moment, “Ok not really, but it’s turned into a full-blown warzone! The clubs are taking this way too seriously. Especially the book and bird-watching clubs. You guys ready for a real fight?”

At that moment, Warriors, Twilight, and Hyrule rejoined the group, their paintball guns still at the ready as they surveyed the situation.

Wind glanced around, assessing the chaos with a smirk. “This is more like it.”

Twilight shook his head, though a smile tugged at his lips. “Lead the way, Miss. We’re ready.”

And with that, they charged deeper into the fray, ready to rescue (Y/n) and see just what kind of madness she had gotten herself into this time.

———

——

—

Tess led the group through the chaotic halls, her hazel eyes scanning the area with the precision only someone used to leading tactical maneuvers during a paintball battle could have. The sounds of paintball fire echoed off the walls, students darting between cover in a frenzied battle for supremacy. Warriors, Twilight, Hyrule, Four, and Wind followed closely, keeping low and exchanging quick shots with other competitors to keep them at bay.

As they rounded a corner, Tess abruptly stopped and raised her hand, eyes widening. “Get down!” she hissed, diving behind a set of overturned benches. Without hesitation, the Chain followed her lead, crouching down just as a group of paint-covered students sprinted past, panic clear on their faces as they were still being shot at despite their clear disqualification.

One student, a guy with a brightly colored scarf, slowed down just long enough to shake his fist at them. “You think you’re so clever, huh? Wait until we unleash the library cart rampage on you! You won’t stand a chance!”

Another student, lagging behind, called out, “Yeah! And I’ll bring the staplers next time!”

Before Tess could respond, a barrage of paintball grenades was lobbed in their direction. “Move!” she barked, grabbing Wind by the back of his shirt and pulling him aside just before the grenades exploded in bursts of color. The group narrowly dodged the splatter, the paint hitting the ground where they had just been standing.

Once the danger passed, Tess motioned them forward, leading them toward a nearby building. She pulled open a door, and the heroes rushed inside, eager for some semblance of safety.

Tess let out a sharp, and practiced birdcall as they entered.

After a moment, another bird call was heard as Nic popped out from a teacher’s closet, looking alert but mercifully paint-free. “Thought you were goner for a sec,” he said, smirking at Tess.

Then, with a loud thunk, (Y/n) pushed the lid off a trash can and emerged, blinking as a crumpled piece of paper slid off her head. “Tactical hiding,” she said with a grin, though she was trying (and failing) to shake off some lingering bits of trash.

Warriors raised an eyebrow, taking in the scene. “Really?”

(Y/n) shrugged. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Twilight chuckled as Four shook his head, clearly amused by the unorthodox tactics.

“Nice timing,” Nic said, still standing by the closet door. “You’re the cavalry, right?”

Warriors nodded, already assessing the situation. “Something like that.”

Tess handed out extra ammo, moving with the calm efficiency of someone who had done this many times before. “Alright, listen up. We’ve been holding out here, but things are escalating. Some of the clubs are pulling out their weirder strategies.”

Four, catching his breath, glanced at (Y/n). “You okay?”

(Y/n) nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Nic’s been keeping me out of trouble.”

Tess gave Nic a nod. “You can thank him later. But for now, we’ve got a tournament to win.”

Before anyone could respond, (Y/n)’s phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and froze. “Uh, one second…” She quickly answered, her voice suddenly a bit tense. “Hey, Jack! Hi! What’s up?”

On the other end, Jack’s voice was sharp, cold. “What the hell is going on?”

(Y/n) fumbled for an answer, glancing nervously at Nic and Tess, both of whom had gone pale. “Oh, uh, it’s really nothing- qjust, you know, a paintball tournament! Totally normal college stuff, no big deal!”

There was a long pause. In the background, they could faintly hear Jack speaking to someone. “Tell me exactly what’s happening,” she demanded, her voice firm and commanding. A student’s voice, trembling and intimidated, responded, “It’s the prize, ma’am’ first priority registration and to skip out on one final! That’s why everyone’s going crazy.”

The line went dead. (Y/n) stared at her phone in disbelief, “She hung up on me.” As the others in the room exchanged horrified looks.

Tess groaned, her face paling even further. “Oh no. This is bad. Really, really bad.”

Nic ran a hand through his hair, clearly panicking now. “Jack is on a warpath. We are so dead.”

Warriors furrowed his brow. “Who’s Jack?”

(Y/n) let out a small sigh, trying to hide her amusement at the whole situation. “My baby sister,” she said casually, though there was no missing the tension that had gripped the room.

“You remember she’s a year younger than you right?”

“Still my baby sister.”

Hyrule blinked in confusion. “Why is everyone so scared?”

(Y/n) shook her head with a grin, clearly unaffected by the dread that had spread among the others. “Because Jack’s… well, Jack. She’s a force of nature when she gets involved in something like this. But don’t worry,” she added, her tone light and teasing. “She’s terrifying, but she’s family.”

Tess let out a nervous laugh, clearly still shaken. “Yeah, ‘terrifying’ is an understatement.”

Nic looked between Tess and (Y/n), his expression grim. “We’ve faced some tough competition, but if Jack’s on the move now, we’re in for the fight of our lives.”

Wind, bouncing on his feet, cracked a grin. “Sounds fun! I’m ready for anything!”

Twilight crossed his arms, his lips twitching in amusement. “I think we’ll manage.”

“Yeah,” Warriors said, his voice calm and resolute. “We’ve handled worse. Let’s just make sure we’re ready.”

With Jack now in the mix, the stakes had been raised to an entirely new level.

But despite the panic in Tess and Nic’s eyes, (Y/n) couldn’t help but smile.

Warriors suddenly frowned, glancing around the small hideout. “Wait a second, have any of you seen Legend or Wild? I’ve no doubt they’d be involved.”

At his question, (Y/n), Nic, and Tess exchanged uneasy looks.

Warriors narrowed his eyes. “…What are those looks for?”

“Weeell…” Tess started, scratching the back of her head, “they were helping us for a while.”

“Yeah,” Nic added, “they joined up with us earlier. Legend, Wild, and (Y/n) completely demolished the competition.”

Tess nodded, a grin creeping onto her face. “Took out the cheerleaders too!”

“Absolutely wiped the floor with them,” (Y/n) said, her pride evident. But then she hesitated. “At least… until things got a little complicated?”

Twilight raised a brow. “Complicated? What do you mean?”

Tess sighed, shooting (Y/n) a look who smiled sheepishly before answering. “Let’s just say their, uh… desire for the prize kicked in.”

The heroes stared at her in disbelief. Four folded his arms. “There’s no way they turned on you for something as ridiculous as—”

Suddenly, a paintball whizzed by (Y/n)’s head, splattering bright pink paint across the wall behind her. She quickly ducked behind cover with Nic and Tess, all of them trying to avoid the shots being fired in their direction.

Out the window, Wild crouched a short distance away, peering over the edge of a table as he adjusted his aim. “Sorry, (Y/n)! But I’m not dealing with that physics final!”

(Y/n) peeked out from behind the barricade, glaring at him through the window. “Seriously?!”

Before Wild could shoot again, Legend appeared, leaping down from a nearby shelf with a paintball pistol in each hand. He pointed one at Wild and the other at (Y/n)’s group. “Only person who’s gonna win is ME!”

Wild glanced at him, his eyes narrowed in a mix of exasperation and amusement. “You’ve got, like, two classes! You don’t even need priority registration, you damn hoarder!”

“And YOU need to be more dedicated to your studies! Ever heard of ‘testing out’ early?”

Wild rolled his eyes, ducking down as he dodged a few incoming paintballs. “Oh, come on! Skipping any final sounds good to anyone, okay?”

Twilight, still crouched behind a barricade, finally spoke up, unable to believe what he was seeing. “You two need to stand down! This is ridiculous!”

Wild shot back, “You don’t understand how bad exams are!”

One of the non-student heroes chimed in, shaking his head. “It’s just a stupid prize!”

At that, every student in the area turned to him as if he’d just proclaimed the most foolish thing imaginable.

As the standoff continued, chaos erupted. A random student, spotting the madness, shouted out to their teammates. “Hey! Look! They’re at it again!”

With the distraction, everyone began shooting and dodging, paintballs flying everywhere as (Y/n) sprinted out of the room with Nic and Tess hot on her heels, the rest of the group following closely behind.

Warriors, Twilight, Four, Hyrule, and Wind quickly regrouped with them, ducking and weaving between overturned tables and makeshift cover.

The next hour was a whirlwind of action. Every time (Y/n)’s group thought they’d gained the upper hand, Wild and Legend would pop up, guns blazing, trying to take down (Y/n) and each other with relentless determination.

“We’ve got to take them down!” (Y/n) huffed, crouching behind a row of tipped-over chairs. “They’re too good at this!”

Twilight popped his head up to fire off a few paintballs, only to duck again as Legend’s retaliatory shots whizzed past his head. “That’s easier said than done! These two are treating this like a battlefield!”

Warriors snorted from his position behind a tree. “Typical. We’re stuck in a ridiculous tournament, and they’re acting like it’s a warzone.”

Wind, who had joined the fray with glee, shouted, “I can’t believe they’re going all out over this! I love it!”

As they weaved through the chaos, (Y/n) caught a glimpse of the aftermath of the art club’s paintball rampage. Warriors commented on the terrifying efficiency of it all. “Look at the way the paintballs hit those students! They’re making it look like an art installation gone wrong.”

“That’s probably Jackie’s doing, probably took out the art club afterwards” (Y/n) said, with a grin. “Come on guys! Even if we hate it, if we don’t join forces, we won’t stand a chance against her!”

“She’s right and I hate it!” Tess chirped.

“Tess, I love you, but the shut t he FU-“

“I found more enemies!”

“Crap! The photography club! RUN.”

“Avoid the camera flashes!”

——

————

——

The paintball tournament was reaching its intense final showdown, and the field was nothing short of chaos. (Y/n), Wild, and Legend stood at opposite ends of the battlefield, their eyes narrowing as they sized each other up.

“(Y/n), just give it up,” Wild said, holding his paintball gun at the ready. “We’re not backing down, not when we’re this close.”

Legend gave a cocky smirk. “You think you can cute your way out of this?”

Before (Y/n) could even answer, Tess, who was covered head to toe in splattered paint and grinning like a madwoman, shouted from her hiding spot, “Don’t listen to them! Keep pushing! You’ve got this!”

Wind, equally paint-splattered and grinning like it was the best day of his life, chimed in. “Yeah! No standing down! This is war!”

Nic groaned from where he lay on the ground, covered in paint and utterly defeated. “Can someone please just finish this? I’ve been out for ten minutes…”

Meanwhile, Four leaned against a wall, his face twisted in frustration as he wiped paint off his cheek. “I swear, when we get back, I’m throwing an axe at Time for letting us walk into this mess.”

Twilight, looking equally as worn, nodded in agreement as he dusted himself off. “Seconded. And I’m helping you.”

Nearby, Warriors was struggling to free himself from the netting that had somehow been shot at him by the taxidermy club. “A little help here? I’m not going down like this, ugh, this is embarrassing.”

(Y/n), sensing the tension and not wanting to be the one to lose, decided to try one last tactic. She pouted, puffing out her cheeks and widening her eyes as she stepped forward, putting on her most innocent expression. “C’mon, guys… do we really have to do this? I mean, you could just let me win. I promise I won’t rub it in or anything. Pretty please?”

Wild and Legend exchanged a look, completely unconvinced. Wild raised an eyebrow. “Are you seriously trying to pull that on us?”

Legend rolled his eyes, loading another paintball into his pistol. “Come on, (Y/n). We know you better than that.”

(Y/n)’s pout quickly turned into a smirk, her eyes glinting mischievously as she dropped the act. “Oh, please. Like I’d waste real charm on the two of you. I just thought you’d appreciate a challenge before I mop the floor with your sorry asses.”

Wild and Legend both aimed their paintball guns at her, ready for the standoff. But before anyone could pull the trigger, a shadow loomed over them.

Suddenly, there was a loud clink as a paint grenade was tossed right into their midst. The entire group barely had time to react before a massive explosion of colorful paint detonated around them, splattering the entire field. (Y/n), Wild, and Legend were instantly covered in a mix of pinks, blues, and greens.

Stunned, they looked up to see none other than (Y/n)’s sister, Jack, standing in front of a window on the second floor with her perpetually deadpan expression. She was still wearing her paintball gear, yet somehow looked spotless compared to the absolute mess everyone else was in.

Nic groaned, wiping paint from his face. “Great. Her.”

(Y/n) shook her head, squinting up at her sister. “Jack! How the hell did you even find us?”

Jack, her face unchanging, pointed her paintball gun at a tall student standing at her side, who was visibly trembling. His wide eyes darted nervously between the group and Jack, whose sharp, unyielding will practically radiated from her as she stared him down.

“He told me,” Jack said flatly.

The poor student, clearly regretting every decision that had led him to this moment, seemed to shrink under the weight of her expression. He looked like he was about to pass out.

(Y/n) sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Jack, if I have to pay for someone’s therapy because of you, I’m telling Mom to take your phone.”

Jack’s usual deadpan expression broke for a second, her brows knitting slightly. “What did you want me to do? You weren’t telling me anything. I had no clue where you were!”

(Y/n) threw her arms up. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d show up and cause chaos—like you always do!”

“I had to cause chaos! How else was I supposed to find you?” Jack shot back, still not showing much emotion, but the sibling bickering undertone clear.

The poor student, caught in the middle of this sibling spat, looked like he was about to collapse from stress. Jack’s gaze flickered briefly to him before (Y/n) rolled her eyes.

“Jack, if this kid needs therapy because of you, I’m telling Mom, and I’ll make sure she takes your phone for a month.”

“Wouldn’t stop me,” Jack shrugged again.

Warriors, still trying to free himself from the netting, snorted. “Sounds like sibling love at its finest.”

Jack glanced at him briefly before shooting a few more paintballs at the retreating student, who yelped and darted into a nearby building.

“Yeah, he’s gonna need a lot of therapy,” Tess chirped up, her expression cheerful now that she defeated.

(Y/n) groaned again, glancing at the paint-covered battlefield. “Well, great. Now that she’s here, we’re definitely screwed.”

Jack blinked, her paintball gun lazily resting on her shoulder. “You’re already screwed.”

(Y/n), Wild, and Legend exchanged glances, all three of them covered in paint from the grenades.

She was right.

It was clear as day.

They lost.

…

The trio sighed in defeat.

——

———

——

The paintball tournament had finally reached its conclusion, and the aftermath was nothing short of apocalyptic. The once clean field was now littered with paint splattered walls, overturned barricades, and exhausted students. The Dean stood near the podium, nervously adjusting his tie as he surveyed the carnage with wide, horrified eyes.

In the center of the chaos stood Jack, spotless as ever, calmly accepting her victory. The Dean, still clearly shaken, stepped forward to shake her hand.

“Uh… congratulations,” he said weakly, his voice barely carrying over the nervous murmurs of the audience. He glanced around at the mess, his face pale, clearly unable to hide his dismay. “W-Well played…”

The crowd clapped politely, though the sound was uneven. Many of the students who had been taken down by Jack’s unrelenting assault looked terrified, their eyes wide as they cast anxious glances in her direction, as if half-expecting her to take them out again.

In contrast, those who hadn’t had the misfortune of crossing paths with Jack wore expressions of annoyance or irritation. Legend, Wild, and (Y/n) stood off to the side, sulking with arms crossed, paint still dripping from their clothes.

Tess and Wind, on the other hand, looked like they’d just experienced the best day of their lives. Tess was still beaming, chatting excitedly with Wind about their earlier antics. “I told you! Absolute chaos, just like I said!”

Wind laughed, wiping paint from his hair. “Yeah, that was insane! I wanna come here when I’m of age.”

As the rest of the defeated students began to shuffle out of the arena, the Dean stepped up to the microphone, clearing his throat nervously. “A-And now, before we conclude this… uh… event, I’d like to announce the runner-ups, who will receive the spa weekend prize…”

Just as he was about to continue, he leaned a bit too close to the microphone and muttered under his breath, “This wasn’t even supposed to happen for another two weeks…”

The microphone, unfortunately for him, picked up every word, and the arena went dead silent for a split second before one confused student in the crowd stood up and yelled, “Wait, does that mean the prize is doubled?!”

The Dean froze, his eyes wide with panic as he waved his hands frantically. “No, no! That’s not— I didn’t mean—”

Before he could fully explain, another student shouted from the back, “So there’s still a chance for victory?!”

The tension in the air shifted immediately. Students began to stir, eyes lighting up as they processed what had just been said. In unison, almost like they had rehearsed it, the crowd roared to life, pulling out their paintball guns with renewed energy.

“Wait! No! Stop!” The Dean pleaded desperately, stepping back from the podium as students began to scream and charge across the battlefield once more, paintballs flying in every direction.

Pandemonium erupted. Paint splattered across the field as the chaos reignited, louder and more out of control than ever. The Dean tried to shout orders, but his voice was drowned out by the roars of students launching into the fray.

(Y/n)’s eyes widened in alarm as she ducked behind the nearest barricade. “Everyone, hide!” she screamed, motioning frantically for the others.

“Run!”

Hyrule dove behind a crate as paintballs zipped past his head. “Not again!”

Four, still drenched in paint from earlier, groaned as he took cover beside (Y/n). “I swear, if I get hit one more time…”

Warriors looked panicked as he dodged another net that had been shot in his direction. “I JUST GOT FREED FROM THE FIRST ONE!”

Twilight ducked from a few paint filled water ballon’s.

As paintballs flew through the air and the field descended into complete anarchy, (Y/n) peeked over the barricade just in time to see the Dean running for cover, shouting into his microphone, “Please! This wasn’t supposed to happen!”

But no one listened.

She quickly caught sight of Jack, still pristine and untouched by a single drop of paint. That deadpan expression only made (Y/n)’s paint-covered form itch for some petty revenge.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, (Y/n) stood up and cupped her hands around her mouth, shouting over the noise, “How about a kiss from your big sister as a second prize?!”

Jack, who had been calmly observing the mayhem with her usual unreadable expression, blinked in surprise. Her gaze locked onto (Y/n) just as her older sister started sprinting toward her, arms outstretched with paint-covered hands, ready for vengeance.

“Come here, Jack!” (Y/n) yelled, grinning wildly. “You can’t escape my love!”

For the first time that day, Jack’s expression faltered ever so slightly. She narrowed her eyes and immediately turned on her heel, sprinting away from (Y/n) at full speed, her paintball gun still bouncing on her shoulder.

“Get back here!” (Y/n) cackled, chasing her sister through the battlefield.

“Welp there she goes.” Tess comments.

“And leaves us here.” Nic adds.

“…”

Hyrule looks at the nervously. “Guuuys..?”

The two pull out their reloaded paintball guns.

“Guuuuuys…!”

Without another word, the two ran off to follow their cackling friend.

Warriors groaned, having had a third shot at him.

“Gods damnit, AFTER THEM!”

And so the chaos continued.

———

Time had been seated at his desk when everyone returned home, he hadn’t so much as looked up from the paperwork in front of him as he greeted them. “Welcome back.”

Time then tilted his head to the side, just as a throwing axe embedded itself into the wall right where his head had been. His only reaction was a faint sigh.

Four stood across the room, hand still raised from the throw, glaring daggers at him. “You knew. You knew about the paintball tournament, didn’t you?”

Hyrule, Twilight, and Warriors joined in with exasperated complaints, all looking equally disheveled and covered in remnants of paint. “Seriously?” Hyrule groaned. “You couldn’t give us a heads-up?”

Warriors crossed his arms, his normally immaculate hair and outfit still splattered with streaks of paint. “Worst prank you’ve ever done to date,” he muttered, shaking his head in frustration.

Twilight, still wiping paint from his hair, grumbled under his breath. “I had to crawl through two miles of paint-covered mud, Time. Two miles.”

Time, still unfazed, leaned back in his chair, eyes flicking up to meet theirs. “You didn’t ask,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

Meanwhile, Legend and Wild slunk into the room, sulking miserably. Both of them had clearly taken their defeat in the tournament hard. Legend scowled as he dropped into a chair, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe we lost.”

Wild, equally as sour, nodded in agreement. “It was rigged. I swear, Tess and Jack must’ve had inside information.”

Sky, who had been noticeably absent from the tournament, offered them a sympathetic look as he sat down nearby. “At least you got to spend time with (Y/n),” he said gently, his voice full of good-natured empathy.

For a moment, the room went quiet, the rest of the group collectively turning their attention to Sky with a suspicious squint. They exchanged a glance, each silently wondering why Sky hadn’t joined them in the chaos.

Noticing the stares, Time finally broke the silence. “Sky didn’t know about the tournament. He volunteered to handle everyone’s duties while you were gone,” he explained, his tone entirely matter of fact.

Then, with a slight pause, he added, “And regardless, I would’ve forbidden him from going. We all know he wouldn’t have stayed calm if he saw (Y/n) getting shot at. Paintballs or not.”

The others blinked, as if suddenly imagining the apocalyptic expression Sky would’ve worn had he seen (Y/n) in the line of fire.

The thought alone was enough to make them collectively shudder.

Sky pouted in response, his lips twitching in mild protest, but he remained quiet, clearly knowing that Time had a point.

As the conversation continued, Wild’s Sheikah Slate buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out, his eyes scanning the screen for a moment before his lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Oy, Legend,” he muttered, nudging his fellow hero. “You’ve gotta see this.”

Legend, still sulking, glanced over at the screen, and his own pout immediately transformed into a smile. The two exchanged a knowing look, their earlier misery now replaced with something else.

Though no one noticed as they continued to complain to Time.

——

—————

——

The school had been closed all week, the aftermath of the chaotic paintball tournament still lingering like an unspoken legend amongst students and faculty alike. It was now the weekend, and the Chain had enjoyed the peace and quiet, until the sound of shuffling feet broke the serenity.

Legend and Wild were at the door, both looking rather pleased with themselves as they pulled on jackets and shouldered small bags, ready to head out. The rest of the group, scattered around the living room, looked up curiously.

“Where are you two going?” Twilight asked, leaning back in his chair.

“We’re cashing in on that runner up prize from the tournament,” Legend answered smugly, adjusting his bag strap.

Wild grinned. “Yep. Spa weekend, here we come.”

The room fell silent for a moment as everyone processed the information. Time, sitting at his desk nearby, glanced up with an annoyed but resigned expression. His face wore the look of a man who knew the full details but, for once, was powerless to stop it. He sighed and waved them off. “Just… don’t cause any trouble.”

Legend smirked as he opened the door, Wild close behind. “No promises.”

And with that, they were gone, leaving the rest of the group in a confused silence.

An hour passed in relative peace, until Hyrule, who had been absentmindedly flipping through a book, paused and frowned. “Wait a second,” he muttered, “Wasn’t (Y/n) also a runner up? She got taken out at the same time as Wild and Legend…”

The room froze.

Twilight and Four slowly exchanged glances, Warriors straightened in his seat, and Hyrule’s eyes went wide as realization set in.

The only sound in the room was Time’s heavy sigh as he leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples, and Sky let out a pitiful, resigned noise, somewhere between a whimper and a sad groan.

Within seconds, chaos erupted.

“Those bastards!” Wind growled, reaching for his phone.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” Warriors shouted, already typing furiously.

“They took her with them?!” Four’s voice cracked as he sent out his own frantic text.

Phones buzzed and pinged as the Chain began bombarding Wild and Legend with messages. Some sent text after text, while others left scathing voice messages, each more demanding than the last.

Twilight’s voice was barely coherent as he left his message: “Explain yourselves. Now.”

Warriors was no better, his tone sharp: “You’ve got five minutes to respond, or we’re coming after you.”

Sky, looking utterly heartbroken, didn’t even bother typing, he just stared at his phone screen, looking like someone had kicked a puppy.

Meanwhile, Legend, Wild, and (Y/n) were lounging comfortably on cushioned chairs in an upscale spa.

A warm breeze carried the scent of flowers and fresh water, and the trio were perfectly relaxed. (Y/n) sat between Legend and Wild, the three of them surrounded by refreshments and snacks on a small table between their chairs.

Legend stretched with a contented sigh, taking a sip from his drink. “See? This is exactly what we needed after all that.”

Wild grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Best prize. No distractions, no one nagging us… just peace and quiet.”

(Y/n), her eyes closed as she relaxed, hummed in agreement. “We should do spas more often.”

Legend chuckled softly, his arm casually resting along the back of her chair. “Well, I won’t complain about that idea.”

Wild’s phone buzzed on the table, but he didn’t even glance at it.

The buzzing continued, both of their phones lighting up and vibrating with increasing frequency as message after message poured in.

Still, neither Wild nor Legend made any move to check them. The grin on Wild’s face only grew as the sound became more insistent.

“Think they’ve figured it out by now?” (Y/n) asked with a smirk, eyes still closed.

Legend gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes glinting mischievously. “Oh, definitely. But we earned this.”

Wild snorted, popping a snack into his mouth. “Let ’em suffer.”

And with that, they ignored the incessant buzzing, eventually muting it, soaking up every second of their hard won spa weekend, leaving the rest of their companions in a frenzy of unanswered questions.

46 notes · View notes

erabundus · 1 year ago

Note

,avalon you are a delight to talk too!,a very good friend and I enjoy talking yelling&sharing ideas with you and crying over this little found family and just ren and farrow as a whole you are very kind and creative and I hope we continue to yell at one another and I cant wait to see what you do next with ren!!💖

SEND YOUR OPINION ON ANON

#ruinlost #𝟎𝟎𝟏 : 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. ◟ ooc .◝#( VELVET!!! 🥺💖 i love the found family SO MUCH )#( i still remember when you were telling me about farrow for the first time & all of the brainrotting we were doing about wanderer )#( you are 100% part of the reason why i got the motivation to make this blog to begin with!! )#( i'm so so happy we had the chance to jump into this rpc together & develop these really sweet + complex dynamics with our muses )#( modernverse with all of their silly inside jokes kill me and canon just kills me emotionally KJSKVDS )#( and i'm also so so looking forward to seeing where it goes!! both in terms of expanding on the past and their future!! )

1 note · View note

ruinlost · 1 year ago

Text

Flower symbolism?,flower symbolism!’

>I often associate farrow with forget-me-nots (his eye patch has one on it even!),namely the blue ones which sometimes means Peace, healing, growth, development, intelligence, power, and communication.

they can also mean remembering a promise or connection.

>I use snap dragons for tai most notably red & yellow ones :Yellow snaps mean smiles, happiness, and overall good luck.

And Red snaps symbolize love, passion, and the gift of positive energy,and I think those both match him a hundred percent!

#[>memory recover ; part regained;hc]#talking about flower symbolism for muses on discord and I had to share here ancn #I know ive brought up farrows before but not in detail

2 notes · View notes

ludmilachaibemachado · 1 year ago

Text

Mia Farrow🦋💙

#60s icons #girlsofthesixties #mia farrow #actress #hollywood star #muse

1 note · View note

linasofia · 2 years ago

Text

The Game

Part 2

Fandom: Obsession (Coming to Netflix April 2023)

Relationship: William Farrow x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+

A/N: You can read the previous part here. This is what happens when my muse listens to my friends. You know who you are… 😈😈

I reach the fifth floor, and the gentle voice in the elevator announces my arrival before the doors slide open. Soft, warm–beige carpet tiles lead the way into a long hallway where old-fashioned lanterns illuminate the walls. The dark paint on the walls makes the hall appear more narrow than it is. All doors obviously look the same, but I don’t have to walk far to find the right one. I hold up the key card, and the lock immediately clicks. Room 505 is of a generous size, with a large sitting area and an even larger space for the king-size bed. The room smells faintly of William’s cologne and shower gel, and the wet towel in the bathroom tells me he showered recently. Another of his jackets hangs on a hook by the door, and I can’t resist pressing my nose against the dark fabric. He always smells heavenly good, and having his scent around me like this awakes an even stronger longing for him. I wonder how long he will make me wait for him. The heavy curtains are open, and it allows me to see the setting sun’s breathtaking evening act. The sky is on fire in the west, and the last burning rays of light fall on the treetops like a golden crown. Very soon, it will be dark.

For a moment, I consider closing the curtains, but then I remember the remote location of the charming, old hotel. With the stunning view comes privacy, and to my satisfaction, I discover that it’s impossible to see into William’s room from the hotel. I could walk around without clothes, and only the sky would notice. In fact, that’s exactly what William ordered me to do; wait for him—naked. The memory of his hoarse whisper makes me shiver. I dim some of the lights, not too much, but enough to make the atmosphere in the room even more sensual and luxurious. Then I take off my shoes and place them next to William’s sneakers. My feet sink down into a thick carpet as I walk back to the window. The window stretches all over the wall, and I can see my reflection thanks to the partly dark sky.

I remember the night I first met William. It was between courses at a newly opened restaurant downtown. I saw him the moment he entered through the large glass door. He was with a smaller group of people, and still to this day, I have no idea who they were. I never asked, and he never brought it up. God knows I’m not a patient woman, but that night I waited a small eternity for the right moment to make him aware of my presence. And the perfect moment came—eventually—and the rest is history. I grin at the memory of our heated encounter that followed in a dark alley later that night. It was the result of hours of teasing looks, desire built without spoken words, and neither of us could wait any longer. It did not matter that we had only just met. He took me—harshly pressed against the wall—and I burned in his grip as I had never burned before. When we parted, I knew I had to see him again.

My daydream almost becomes too much, and I sigh in frustration as I reach for the zipper in my dress. I send a prayer that William will join me soon. I have already waited long enough, and my impatience is growing fast. I need him so badly it hurts, but I also know the rules; when he leads, I follow. And he doesn’t approve of me touching myself before our meetings—unless he can watch. The silky fabric slides off me, and the sparkling effect from the champagne in my blood causes me to giggle. As I step out of my underwear and let them join my dress on the floor, I look at the faint reflection of myself in the window. I’m confident with my body. I like what I see, and I know William does too, for his eyes speak a language of their own when he watches me. As I rest my gaze on the almost dark horizon again, I suddenly hear a click from the door. A wave of excitement washes over me, and I quickly turn. He is here.

William enters the room, and I can instantly tell by the look in his eyes what he expects from me; obedience. I smile at him, but his lips don't move to mirror mine. Instead, he takes off his jacket and hangs it next to the other one. All of a sudden, there is a tension in the room—like the air is charged with electricity—and he walks slowly towards me. His gaze is fixed on me, and the way he hungrily takes in my naked curves is enough to make my breathing heavier. I love when he looks at me like that. I am his.

No words are uttered, but I still know what he means when he lifts his hand to brush my cheek with his fingertips. His steel-blue eyes always reveal his state before his body does, and I don’t need words to tell him how I feel. Our love language is of a different kind, and as I submissively lower my gaze, I catch a glimpse of admiration in his eyes. He leans in, just as he did downstairs less than twenty minutes ago, and his masculine, alluring scent speaks directly to my core.

“Are you going to be a good girl tonight?” His voice is nothing more than a low murmur, but I know what he is doing: making sure we are both up for whatever his dark and heavenly-twisted mind is planning. And I love him even more for taking the time to properly care for me.

”Yes, Sir,” My answer falls naturally from my lips, soft as a whisper—but still strong enough to make my consent vibrate in the air. William smirks back at me—the type of smile he makes when he knows exactly where he has me.

”Show me your hands,” he commands. As I turn my palms up and hold my hands in front of me, William grabs my wrists and presses my palms together. ”Like this.” Then he puts one hand in the pocket of his trousers and pulls out a carefully rolled red ribbon. He rolls it out and runs it playfully between his fingers. The silky ribbon is long—long enough to secure more than just my wrists—and the thought sends a shiver of excitement down my spine. I watch him as he wraps the ribbon tightly around my wrists three times. I can’t stop myself from moaning as he pulls the end between my hands to tighten the ribbon. The silk cuts into my skin, not so bad it hurts, but hard enough to remind me that I can’t escape from him. William secures his creation with a knot and gives the backside of my hands a brief caress with his thumb. A playful smile hides in the corner of his mouth, and it makes me want to kiss him. I want to taste his lips and feel his tongue tickle mine. I need him to kiss me like there is no tomorrow until I can’t breathe and have to gasp for air. I know he can see it in my eyes, and he cups my face with both his hands and places teasing kisses on my lips. He breaks our kiss much too soon, but I know better than to protest. If I behave, he will give me everything I want. My darkest desires—which remained a well-preserved secret until I met him—will be answered once again.

William starts to roll up his sleeves. With the facial expression of a displeased workerpreparing himself for hard labor, he reveals his strong forearms to me. They are covered in soft hair, and he knows very well how attractive I find it. Then he opens a few more buttons in his shirt as if he is standing in the blazing sun and needs to cool down. I bite my lip to hinder myself from begging him to take it all off, and I can see in his eyes that it amuses him. ”I know you struggle to be patient,” he suddenly says. His voice is calm—he has regained control over himself, and I secretly admire his ability to take the role of the scolding Master. A smile dances over his lips as a reminder of the bond we share, but then his face becomes stern. ”Turn around.” I obey and meet our reflection in the window. William closes the distance between our bodies, and I lean back on him as he wraps one arm around my chest. I lift my bound hands to try to caress his arm, but he quickly catches me and pushes my hands down again. Then he grips my hair, forces my head backwards, and it makes me collide with his firm shoulder. ”Stand still, or I will make sure you can’t even move an inch.” The threat sounds more like a promise, and I grin to myself. I will do as I’m told—for now. William lets his warm, large hand glide over my upper body, and I let out a pleased sigh. His touch is gentle—like a tender lover—and the contrast to the harsh grip he has on my hair is intoxicating. The small words of affection while he continues his path over my body ignite my lust, and the more I want him to continue further down, the more he teases me. I whimper softly as he grabs me tighter. ”You are exquisite, sweetheart,” William mumbles. As he bends down and scrapes his teeth against my neck, I moan again. ”I love listening to you. Don’t hold back.”

My skin burns when I finally feel his fingers approaching my most sensitive parts, and I press myself against his hand to urge him to continue. But I should have known better. As soon as I grind against his fingers, he withdraws his hand. ”Already being disobedient? I told you to stand still.” I hear the grin in his voice, but then the skin on my thigh stings. I jump at his sudden move, but William is faster than me and tightens his grip around me again. ”I thought you learned your lesson last time but it seems I need to remind you again.” My skin stings again. And then again. My body responds to his rough treatment with an appreciative blush. Then he lets his hand rest on my shoulder, and I know what’s coming. A gentle squeeze follows, and then, a single word; ”Kneel.”

I smile at his command and drop to my knees with my back still against him. The thick carpet is very soft, and I thank the hotel for providing such nice comfort for their guests. In this position, William really towers over me, and he places his hand on my head, almost as if giving me a blessing. I meet his gaze in the reflection of the window, and his voice is hoarse as he speaks again. ”Look at yourself. This is what you want, is it not?” I nod at his question. He buries his hand in my hair and yanks my head backwards. It hurts as I stare into his steel-blue eyes, but I don’t protest. I want this just as much as he does.

”Yes, Sir,” I correct myself as my neck is being stretched. The seconds pass agonizingly slowly, but then suddenly, William lets go of the tight grip. He rubs his fingertips against my scalp in a soothing gesture before he releases my hair, and the subtle comfort he offers makes my heart swell. I sit back on my heels, with my knees spread wide—just as he demands—and waits for him to move. I know he likes to watch me, and tonight, more than ever, it appears. When he finally stands in front of me, he fills my whole vision. With a few of his long fingers, he catches my chin, and when he speaks, his voice has reached that dark, ominous register that reminds me of distant thunder.

”For every time you misbehave I will deny you relief. When you squirm in desperation—remember—you put yourself in the situation.”

William reaches for his belt and unbuckles it. Then he slowly pulls it from his trousers and folds it double. He has not yet used his belt on my naked skin, but the sight of the hard leather in his hand makes me gasp. William, however, seems to have other plans, for he tosses the belt on the floor and proceeds to open the button in his trousers. I enjoy watching him undress, almost as much as I love undressing him, and when he pulls down his zipper, I can’t resist lifting my bound hands toward him. The bulge in his trousers is proof enough of how much he enjoys this, but the look in his eyes when his member is freed from his boxers leaves no room for misunderstandings. He doesn’t have to tell me what to do; I have waited far too long to see him like this, and when he takes a small step forward, I welcome his leaking top with my tongue. His masculine smell and taste are incredibly arousing, and I greedily reach for him. The ribbon hinders me from using my hands the way I want, and I try to twist them to see if William was merciful enough to leave some room for adjusting my hands. He was not.

”No hands,” William groans as I close my lips around the top of his shaft. I don’t dare disobey him so soon again, so I let my hands fall down in my lap. Memories of his latest aftercare come back to me as he lets out a ragged breath. William was a bit more forceful the last time we met and took full advantage of my mouth. Afterwards, when he held me tenderly in his arms, I admitted that I loved every second of it. I also told him he could go harder on me—even force me—if he wanted to. Back then, he seemed to hesitate, but now, as he harshly grabs me, I can sense him coming to terms with my request. William turns so I can watch us both in the reflection. Slowly he pulls out of my mouth and tilts my head so I can see what he sees when he slides between my lips. The slightly blurry picture of us will forever be stored in my memory—whatever happens between us.

Guided by the sounds he makes, I caress him with my lips, lick his heavy shaft, and allow him a gradually deeper sensation. William twirls my hair between his fingers, and after a while, it becomes impossible to see anything in the window. Instead, I try to focus on the silky skin of William’s hardness—and my own breathing. He meets every movement of mine, and his thrusts soon become short and quick. I can hear in his uneven breathing that he will not last long if he continues.

A small stream of saliva escapes my lips as William suddenly steps away from me. I gasp for air as if I have just crossed the finish line in a cross-country race. Without a word, he grabs my arms and pulls me to my feet. ”You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters in an unrecognizable voice as he squeezes my arm. Something in his voice makes me actually believe him. He would do anything for me. William’s gaze still bores into mine as he starts to undress. As he removes his shirt and pulls down his trousers, impatience stir inside my body like a slumbering lioness waking up. The struggle to remain obedient grows, and I love the smirk William gives me. He knows what he’s doing to me, and I have a feeling he plans to enjoy it to the fullest. When he finally is naked, he grabs me by the elbow and leads me away from the window.

The large duvet is still untouched—William did not even throw his belongings on the neatly made bed. With a single push, I fall backwards on the bed, and he follows me and catches my wrists before I find a decent position for myself. As he uses his weight to hold me down, I can feel how incredibly warm he is. Effortlessly, he pulls my bound hands over my head, and the promising gleam in his eyes sets me on fire. ”Remember what I said,” he hisses before he gives my earlobe a playful bite. ”Your behavior will impact the outcome of this night. Be good—or be bad. It’s up to you.”

”I’ll be good for you, Sir,” I moan as he drags his nails along my arm, from the silky ribbon all the way down to my ribs. If I were less aroused, it would tickle, but now he leaves a burning trail on my skin. William lets out a short, raw chuckle. I know he doesn’t believe me—I don’t even believe it myself. His hardness presses against me, and I spread my thighs wide for him. A soft pleading slips from me. I didn't mean to beg, but my all-consuming desire has a will of its own. He only needs one hand to hold my arms in place over my head, and the other one explores every part of my heated body. The way he touches me—an overpowering combination of sensual and demanding—builds an aching feeling in my core, and soon he has me squirming under his hand.

”So eager,” William mumbles as he moves his hips in position. The bulging veins on his forehead strain against his skin and reveal his silent struggle to control himself. I know he wants to bury his full length in me, and I arch my body as an invitation. His long fingers gently wrap around my neck. With his thumb, he caresses my soft skin, and when he feels my frantic pulse, he adds a slight pressure. I gasp and try to move, yet he does not even blink as he sucks in air between his teeth as a warning. I trust him with every fiber in my body, but my heart leaps in my chest when he pierces me with his burning gaze. The way he suddenly claims my body makes me cry out. His swelling girth meets the slick resistance of my body in the most breathtaking way, and William’s groan echoes in my ears. I lose the air in my lungs as he presses me down, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. His fingers dig into my skin as his grip on my arm tightens, and every thrust echoes within my body. William’s breathing blends with mine, and our fire—the flaming desire we ignited months ago—will burn until there is nothing left of us. In the inferno he creates, I lose my grip on reality and float into the unknown as an ancient explorer on a damaged ship. Captured beneath him, all I can do is follow his moves, and he leads me on a path neither of us was prepared to follow. His face is filled with love, but he craves more—much more—and every time I think we will join in bliss, he denies me what I need. Heaven knows I try to be good, but there is something about the way he takes me, and it makes me completely forget all the rules. William seeks to punish me. I close my eyes in agony as I feel him repeating his torture, and I howl his name in desperation as he almost pulls out. At this moment, I don’t know if my love or hate is strongest, but the more I twist my hands, the deeper his ribbon cuts. My restraints hinder me from touching his body, but the groans he makes as he slams his hips against mine again sound painful. Finally, he suffers too.

It starts as an ache, then builds to a sweet pain, and my body silently screams for relief. I will never understand what William senses, but he knows so well where my limits are. I stand on the edge of my own release—ready to cry if he denies me again. But this time, he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he focuses all his efforts on the one angle that has me trembling. His words of praise and promises give my climax the final push over the edge, and we both fall—in a wordless cry—into the pool of ecstasy where our souls once again melt together.

Nothing but our joined breathing can be heard as he stills. My heart hammers wildly in my chest, but it’s his soft kisses on my cheek that I feel the most. With a gentle hand, he caresses my hair and mumbles words that my heart longs to hear. His voice is thick and filled with emotions as he looks into my eyes and swears his love to me once more. And I allow him. It’s easy to forget about reality when your body is filled to the brim with satisfaction. As he slowly sits up between my thighs, I study him. He is the most handsome man I have ever seen, and for now, I ignore the world outside his luxurious hotel room. William releases my wrists and carefully rubs my sore skin. My hands are a little numb from being bound so long, but his tender treatment soothes more than he might realize. Then he lifts them to his mouth and gently kisses the thin skin on the inside before blowing softly. ”You should not struggle so much, it burns your skin.” The concern in his voice fills me with a different kind of warmth.

”I don’t mind a few marks, you know that,” I reply with a teasing smile.

”I would lie if I said I don’t like seeing the marks on you, but I prefer if they don't become a problem for you—for us.” His confession doesn’t come as a surprise to me, and I watch him in silence as he rubs his thumbs over the angry red marks. Tomorrow they might be a reminder of our heated night. William is still out of breath, but to him, my comfort is more important.

”It will not become a problem,” I quietly assure him, even if I know that is a promise I will not be able to keep. The marks on my body are nothing compared to the obsession escalating between us. We are currently both ignoring it, but it would be insane to deny that we are in serious trouble. Our type of love always comes at the highest price. And sometimes, it hurts.

💙 If you like my writing, please consider spreading the love and reblogging.💙

Taglist and others who might be interested: @lathalea @legolasbadass @laurfilijames @i-did-not-mean-to @enchantzz @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @xxbyimm @mariannetora @haly-reads @sunnysidesidra @rachel1959 @knittastically @quiall321 @medusas-hairband @fulltimecrazy @s0ftd3m0n @emrfangirl @glimmering-darling-dolly @lilith15000 @clumsy-wonderland @theawkwardbutterfly @exhausted-humxn-being @beenthroughalot @chaikittie @piscesvancouverite @sotwk @dontaskmehowdontaskmewhy @mrsdurin

#richard armitage #william farrow #william farrow fic #william farrow x reader #william farrow x you #obsession #obsession netflix

153 notes · View notes