#them coming back to (i imagine) the same place they went when they had their first date in ep 1 means a lot to me actually

[aheathen-conceivably]

Three rhythmic knocks rang out across the desert. Jo let out a breath as she heard footsteps sound from inside the house. She had no reason to believe that Val would act any differently than she had every other time they'd met since things had grown awkward between them. Short, impersonal pleasantries. Quick, false smiles.

The door opened and Jo tried to maintain the indifference that she had worked so hard on these last few months. It’s fine. You’re friends. That’s all. “Keys are in the car. Just don’t do anything stupid. Get her back in one piece. Same as usual.” Terse. Already impatient. Seemingly the same annoyance that had been on her face the first time they had met.

“Wait, I -“ You’re friends. Don’t you miss that? Having someone more like you to talk to. Laughing with someone who doesn’t know every detail of your past and your ire. Where’s the harm in that? You’re in control. Just keep yourself in control. “Actually I was wondering if that drink was still on the table?”

Val leaned sideways, her eyebrows shooting up in an expression Jo could actually read. Amusement. “Oh, really?”

The finely woven threads holding up Jo’s principles loosened at that one simple question. Val’s eyebrow stayed raised, her posture infuriatingly relaxed, and Jo’s neck grew warm with the reminder that she could never simply smile and get her way with Val. Instead she had to grit her teeth and swallow her conviction that she should never be the one to implore someone else. “Yes, really. If you still want to, of course.”

In response Val simply stepped backward, a satisfied look on her face as she held open the door and gestured for Jo to step inside.

Val didn’t show off her living room the way that most people would have. She barely looked back as her long strides took her toward an open door across the room. Trailing behind her, Jo tried to take in every detail. She had seen much of it from the window, of course, but she realized now that had been like looking at it as the set of a play. Now, it seemed like a place where someone actually breathed. She couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that the walls didn’t need newspaper to keep out the red dirt, or that it smelled slightly of dried chilis rather than chickens and failed hope.

Lost in the simple comfort of it all, she didn’t even realize that she had lost track of Val, or the tightly wound control she had been so sure of moments before. Instead she was looking at the only other doors in the small house. They were shut tight, their contents hidden and their windows facing away from the porch. This is it, isn’t it? The room I tried not to think about when I would leave you in the bar all those nights ago. Did you close the door just for me, just so that I couldn’t see? Because we went too far and ruined whatever friendship we had…

“Are you coming, or what?” Jo turned back to see Val staring at her from the kitchen, her face set more with calm curiosity than the annoyance that had been there mere minutes ago. 

“I - what?” Heat rose up Jo’s spine as she tried to recenter herself in her heels rather than the imaginings she had already begun to conjure. You idiot. Don’t do this. Almost imperceptibly, she shook out the agitation gripping the back of her neck and regained control of her mind. “Yes. Of course I am. Lead the way.”

Jo took off her gloves and hat as Val rummaged through a cupboard. After a minute, she pulled out a dusty bottle and a cup, stepping nearer to Jo at the table as she poured liquor into a glass. “You’ll have to forgive me if it’s a bit old. Doesn’t get much use other than when there’s folk over, and we both know that’s not often.”

Jo looked up at her, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the strong smell of whiskey that had sat unopened for years. “Why don’t you drink, anyway? I mean all night at the bar, here all alone. That bottle wouldn’t have lasted a week in my house.”

Val shrugged her shoulders and pulled back the chair across from Jo. “Seems an awful way to deal with your problems if you ask me. Even worse than running away, just numbing yourself and turning the other cheek.” As she finished speaking, Jo’s hand hovered around the glass. Val noticed it and laughed. “That sounded mighty judgmental, didn’t it? I didn’t mean it that way. Only for myself, really, and maybe for all of those louses without a dime drinking away their children’s meals.”

Still, Jo’s whiskey stayed untouched as she looked into Val’s eyes, “Can I ask you something, honest?” With a nod of her head Jo continued, “Why are you still here? You know - in this town. I mean you’ve got a car, the road goes both ways right through the center, and I’ve been to your father’s courts; you could be anywhere in the country in a week.”

Val looked at the table between them and stayed quiet for a moment. Then she answered without looking up. “Honest, maybe I’m too loyal for my own good. I like it here, true. I like knowing everyone’s names and where they came from, but it hasn’t been easy, being on my own and unwilling to marry at that…”

For a moment she looked up at Jo knowingly, as though to test her on the subject or see if she’d judge her in some way. Then she glanced down at Jo’s left hand, holding the cup delicately and notably, without a ring. Jo brought the drink to her lips and she noticed that just before Val kept talking, she smiled. 

“Well, there’s some mixed feelings about the Groves. My father in particular. They found oil on our tract back when I was a girl. Most of the tribe fought him on it, but father got the government’s blessing to drill it. We were still under trust quota, of course, so the money wasn’t really his. He had to get permission to use the fraction of profits they gave him to buy anything else. Permission to use the profits off his own land. The same land sold to him by the government after they had stolen it in the first place.”

For a moment she stopped, a crack in her facade finally showing as they looked at each other and the room went silent. There was a charged beat of shared anger, some sense of knowing the past without needing to speak it that passed between them both. Then she signed heavily and resigned herself to the rest of the story.

“But once they did he took the cash and bought land lining the railroads first, and eventually, the route. If they wanted to play the game of land ownership, well I figure he thought he was going to win. So one by one he developed them, and once the money came out of there, it was his. I know why he did it now, why he drives up and down the route without any real sense of home; but some old timers still spit at the mention of his name. Call him a sell-out or a crow. Maybe I stayed here to make up for him. Or, I don't know, maybe it’s just as simple as there's nowhere else I wanna go.”

Jo put her glass back on the table lightly, unsure of what to say.

“I suppose that’s a bit more of an answer than you wanted, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s - I’ve just always wondered. Ever since I saw the car, really. Do you know how strange it was? Seeing you standing astride it like you owned the damn sand itself? It was formidable, I’ll tell you that.”

“Quite the compliment coming from you.” She had said it with only the smallest trace of sarcasm, so Jo tipped the glass in her direction, the crooked smile on her face still there even as she brought the glass to her lips. Val reached in front of her, rolling a cigarette that was to be far from her last. Then the sun got lower, their brows less concerned, and the lingering stiffness between them melted away.

It was dark by the time Jo moved to stand. Her legs were admittedly more wobbly than she would have liked them to be, and the memory of why she had been so stressed about coming here now harder to find. But as she found herself unwilling to move away from the table, a sort of charged silence fell over them. She kept her eyes off of Val’s as though she had something to hide, and without even really knowing why, offered up an embarrassed apology for her departure.

Val simply looked up at her from her chair, her posture slouched and the brief flash of disappointment that had been on her face now cloaked in wry amusement. Everything about her countenance told Jo that the expectation to stay was coming from within herself; and suddenly, she remembered exactly why she had to leave. So she straightened her skirt and made her leaden feet head toward the door. 

As she walked through the room, Jo’s steps slowed, seemingly having forgotten something that she couldn’t quite name. Val was watching her from the doorway, her shoulder against the wood and her voice low. “Keys are still in the car, as promised.”

Her hands were neatly folded across her body, and as she said it, she had nodded behind Jo as though directing her out. Instead Jo turned further; her mind was both sharp and cloudy with anticipation, just like it is when you hold your hand over a fire and wonder just how close you can get before you get burned. “Will you save the bottle for me? For next time?”

A smile slowly spread across Val’s face, laced with something more genuine than had been there hours before. “Sure, Jo. Next time.”

In response Josephine simply nodded and turned to leave, keeping control over the next question that she really wanted to ask. And next time, would you leave the door open for me too?

Previous / Next

[finchyclarkemd]

Between Us

~Angst/Smut~

You had known George since university. He had been your anchor—your best friend through years of exams, late-night study sessions, and questionable life choices. You had been through everything together, no one knew you better than he did. When he introduced you to his friend group after graduation, you didn’t think much of it at first. But then you met Chris.

Chris was the kind of guy who walked into a room and made it feel smaller, like gravity bent toward him. He was confident, always teasing, always flashing that easy smile. You liked him immediately—which was exactly why you had spent the last few months doing everything possible to bury those feelings. There was no way he’d ever feel the same. George, on the other hand, had always been by your side. He was warm, steady, dependable. It never once crossed your mind that he might look at you differently than you looked at him—until lately.  

Lately, there had been a shift. A weight in his glances, a hesitation in his words. You couldn’t quite place it, and honestly, you didn’t want to. Not when every time Chris so much as brushed past you, your heart went into cardiac arrest.  

It was supposed to be a casual night out—a group hangout at a bar, nothing unusual. But something in the air felt off. George was quieter than usual, and Chris… well, Chris had been watching you. Not in an obvious way, but in a way that made your skin prickle with awareness.  

At some point, you slipped away from the group, stepping outside for fresh air. The cool night breeze helped steady your heartbeat. That was, until you heard footsteps behind you.  

Chris.  

"You okay?" His voice was softer than usual, lacking the teasing edge he so often carried.  

You swallowed. "Yeah. Just needed some air."  

He nodded, but he didn’t leave. He leaned against the wall next to you, hands in his pockets, his body close.  

"You’ve been quiet tonight," he observed.  

You laughed nervously. "So have you."  

"Yeah, well…" He exhaled, tilting his head slightly. "Maybe I was waiting for you to say something first."  

Your breath hitched. "Say what?"  

Chris studied you for a long moment. It was the kind of look that made you feel like he could read everything—every hidden thought, every unspoken feeling. And maybe he could. Before he could say anything else, the door swung open behind you.  

George.  

His eyes flicked between the two of you, and suddenly, the tension thickened into something unbearable.  

"Hey," George said, voice carefully even. "You okay?"  

You nodded quickly, stepping back from Chris. You weren’t sure why.  

Chris let out a low chuckle. "You sent George to come check on me?" you teased, trying to lighten the mood.  

George’s lips pressed into a thin line. "I sent myself."  

Chris’s jaw twitched, something unreadable passing between them. Oh.

You weren’t imagining it, were you? The way George was standing, the way Chris’s shoulders squared ever so slightly—like two opponents stepping into a ring.  

"You should come back inside," George said, but his gaze wasn’t on you. It was on Chris.

And that’s when it hit you. George wasn’t just being protective. Chris wasn’t just acting strange.  

They both—  

Oh, God.

You felt your stomach drop, realisation slamming into you like a freight train. They both had feelings for you. And you… you only had feelings for one of them.  

Chris.  

But you had never imagined it would be this complicated.  

Chris let out a breath, pushing off the wall. "Yeah, we should go back," he said, but his voice was tight.

George lingered for a second before he reached for your hand—just a small touch on your wrist, the kind that might have gone unnoticed if you weren’t already drowning in the weight of everything unsaid. When you looked at him, there was something in his eyes. Please choose me.

But when you glanced back at Chris, his gaze burned just as fiercely. Please tell me you feel the same. And suddenly, you weren’t sure if you could breathe at all. You could still feel George’s touch on your wrist. Gentle, hesitant. A silent plea. But your heart wasn’t hesitating. It was already pulling in one direction.  

Chris.  

It always had been. The moment stretched between the three of you, unbearably tense. The unspoken words, the lingering looks, the unacknowledged feelings that had been brewing for months—it was all coming to a head now, whether you were ready for it or not.  Chris’s jaw was clenched, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he was restraining himself from doing something reckless. His eyes burned into yours, searching, waiting.  

George exhaled sharply. "Let’s go back inside," he repeated, but his voice had lost its steadiness. It was raw now. Vulnerable.   

Your chest tightened. You knew what he wasn’t saying. Please don’t do this. Chris must have sensed it too, because he took a step forward—closer to you. Close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, close enough that the air between you felt electric.

"Or," Chris said, voice low, dangerous, "she doesn’t have to."  

You swallowed hard.  

George stiffened. "What the hell does that mean?"  

Chris’s gaze never left yours. "It means if she wants to stay, she stays."  

The weight of the moment crushed down on you. This was it. The moment you had to choose. And maybe, deep down, you had already made your decision a long time ago. You took a slow breath, gathering every ounce of courage you had. Then, with your heart pounding, you stepped toward Chris. Not George.  

Chris’s eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t actually expected you to choose him. And George—oh God, George—his breath hitched, pain flickering across his face for the briefest moment before he masked it. But you saw it. You felt it. Chris must have felt it too, because his jaw clenched, his body tensed. But then you reached for his hand. And that was all it took. Chris’s hand tightened around yours—possessive, certain. Like he had been waiting for this. For you.

George let out a soft, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Right," he murmured. "Got it." His voice was calm, but his eyes—his eyes—were full of something that made your stomach twist.  

He nodded, once, then turned and walked away. You almost called out to him. Almost. But then Chris pulled you back to reality. He tugged you closer, until you were right there—his forehead nearly resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips.  

"You sure about this?" he murmured. His voice was different now. No teasing. No playfulness. Just real.

You let out a shaky breath. "Yeah."  

And then he kissed you. It wasn’t slow, or careful, or hesitant. It was intense. Like he had been holding back for months and just couldn’t anymore. Like he didn’t care that you were standing in the dim glow of a streetlamp outside the bar, or that anyone could walk out and see. Like he was claiming you. And when you kissed him back, you poured every ounce of feeling you had into it. Because finally, finally, you had stopped running from what you wanted. And Chris wasn’t about to let you go.  

It wasn’t regret. No, you knew deep down you had made the right choice. But the moment George walked away that night, something inside you fractured. And it hadn’t healed since.  

For the next few days, George didn’t answer your texts. Calls went straight to voicemail. It was as if he had vanished. Avoiding you. Avoiding this. Chris, on the other hand, was different.  He didn’t talk about what happened. He didn’t say George’s name. But he was there—calling, texting, making sure you were okay. And when you were together, he kissed you like he wanted to erase everything else. Like he wanted you to focus on him, not the pieces of your friendship that were shattering.  

But it didn’t work. Because every time you kissed him, you thought of George. Not because you wanted him instead, but because you had hurt him. And the worst part? He hadn’t even fought for you. He had just… walked away.  

You finally saw him again two weeks later. It wasn’t planned. You had just left Chris’s place—his scent still lingering on your skin, your lips still swollen from his kiss—when you ran into George at the coffee shop near your apartment. The moment your eyes met, he froze. For a second, you thought he might turn and walk out. But then, with a sigh, he stepped forward and pulled out the chair across from you, sitting down like it was a chore.

You swallowed hard. "George—"  

"Don’t." His voice was flat.  

The barista set a coffee down in front of him. He didn’t touch it. He just stared at you, eyes unreadable.

"You’ve been ignoring me," you said softly.  

His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "Yeah. Funny how that happens."  

You winced. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."  

"You didn’t mean to choose him either?" He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "No, wait—don’t answer that. I don’t want to hear it."  

Your stomach twisted. "George…"  

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Look, I get it. It was never me. It was always Chris."  

You flinched. Not because he was wrong, but because hearing it like that, so definite, made it feel worse.  

"And you know what?" He exhaled sharply, finally meeting your eyes. "That’s fine. I can deal with that. But you could’ve at least told me."  

Your breath caught. "What?"  

"You knew," he said bitterly. "You had to have known. Maybe not at first, but eventually. You felt it, right?" His voice was quieter now. "You felt the way I looked at you, the way I…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "And if you didn’t, then I was a fucking idiot."  

Your throat tightened. "George, I—"  

He let out another sharp laugh. "God, I must’ve looked so stupid standing there that night, watching you pick him. Watching you look at him the way I wanted you to look at me."  

The words hit like a slap. You had spent so long drowning in your own feelings that you had never stopped to think about what it must have been like for him. Watching you choose someone else. Watching you slip away. You reached out, fingers brushing his hand. He pulled away. That hurt more than anything.  

"I don’t hate you," George said after a moment. "I just… I can’t be around you right now." His voice cracked slightly. "Not when you’re with him."  

Your stomach dropped. "George, please—"  

"Don’t," he said again, shaking his head. "You made your choice. And I’m making mine."  

He stood up, coffee untouched, hands shoved deep in his pockets. And then, with one last glance—one final, unreadable look—he walked away.  Again. And this time. You weren’t sure if he was ever coming back.  You should’ve been happy. You were happy, right?

Chris was everything you had wanted—everything you had spent months trying to deny. And now that he was yours, he made sure you knew it. Every kiss, every touch, every look—he didn’t hold back anymore. But no matter how many times he kissed you breathless, no matter how tightly he held you at night, there was a weight pressing against your chest.  

George. 

The last time you saw him replayed in your mind like a broken record. The sharpness in his voice. The way he pulled his hand away. The way he left. And the worst part? You hadn’t heard from him since. Until now.  

Chris was asleep, his arm slung over your waist, his breaths slow and steady against your neck. The warmth of his body wrapped around you, grounding you. And yet, when your phone buzzed in the darkness, a shiver ran down your spine.  

George.

You stared at the screen, your heart hammering. For a second, you thought about ignoring it. But then—you slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Chris, and stepped into the hallway before answering.  

“…George?”  

A long silence. Then, his voice—low, rough, like he hadn’t slept.  

“I need to see you.”  

Your stomach twisted. “George, I—”  

“Please.”  

You closed your eyes. The way he said it—like he was breaking.

“…Where?”  

You found him at the park, sitting on the same bench where you used to meet after long days. But this time, there was distance. He barely looked at you when you sat down, staring ahead like he was afraid to face you.  

“I wasn’t going to call,” he admitted.  

You swallowed. “So why did you?”  

George exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Because I thought I could let you go.” His voice was raw. “I tried. I really fucking tried.”  

Your breath hitched.  

He turned to you then, eyes dark with something unreadable. “But every time I see you with him, it feels like I’m suffocating.”  

You looked away, guilt creeping in. “George—”  

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” he interrupted. “I just… I need you to know”  

Silence stretched between you.  And then—softly, brokenly—  

“I love you.”  

Your heart stopped. You had known. Of course you had known. But hearing him say it out loud? It was different.  Dangerous.  

“I don’t expect anything,” he continued, his voice hoarse. “I just couldn’t keep pretending anymore.”  

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “George, I—”  

But before you could say anything, a voice cut through the air like a blade. Chris. Standing just a few feet away. Watching. His expression was unreadable, but his fists were clenched. And in that moment, you realised— this wasn’t over. Not even close.  

Chris didn’t say a word. Not when his eyes locked onto yours. Not when his jaw clenched so tight you thought it might snap. Not even when George stood up, ready for a fight. But Chris didn’t fight. He didn’t need to. Instead, he looked at you—just you. His expression unreadable, his shoulders tense, like he was waiting to see if you’d follow. And you did.  

The silence in the car was thick. Charged. Chris gripped the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white, his jaw locked, his eyes dark. You wanted to say something, but you didn’t know what. Because the way he was acting? The way his whole body radiated tension? You had never seen him like this before. 

The second you walked into his apartment, the door slammed shut behind you. Before you could react, Chris was on you. His hands found your waist, his body pressing you back against the door, his breath hot against your skin.  

“You went to him.” His voice was low, rough—dangerous.

Your breath hitched. “Chris, I—”  

“Tell me,” he demanded, his lips brushing against your jaw. “Tell me you don’t still think about him.”  

Your stomach twisted. “Chris, I chose you.”  

He let out a sharp breath—half a laugh, half frustration. “Yeah? Then say it.”  

Your heart pounded. “Say what?”  

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “That you’re mine.”  

Your breath stalled. Because it wasn’t just a question. It was a challenge. The air between you was electric, charged with everything unsaid. And then—before you could even think—your lips crashed together. It was nothing like the first time. It was raw. Desperate. Possessive.  

Chris kissed you like he was trying to erase any trace of George from your mind. Like he needed to remind you exactly who you belonged to. And you let him.  You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, pressing against him like you’d never get enough. Chris groaned, deep and low, as he lifted you—effortlessly—and carried you straight to his bedroom.  

And when he laid you down, his lips never left yours. Because this wasn’t just about desire. This was about claiming. And tonight, Chris was going to make sure you knew exactly who you had chosen. Chris wasn’t gentle.  

He wasn’t soft, or slow, or careful. Because this wasn’t about romance. This was about possession. About claiming you. About making damn sure that every thought of George was burned from your body, your mind—until the only name you could say, the only person you could think about, was him. And God, you let him. You let him devour you.

His hands were everywhere—gripping, demanding, sliding over your skin like he had something to prove. Like he needed to mark you, brand you, ruin you for anyone else. Your back arched under him as his lips trailed down your neck, teeth scraping, biting—not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you exactly who was in control.  

“You’re mine,” he growled against your skin, his voice thick with need. “Say it.”  

Your breath hitched. “Chris—”  

But that wasn’t enough.  

His hand tightened around your waist, pinning you in place. “Say it.”  

A shiver ran through you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you gasped, “I’m yours.”  

Chris cursed under his breath, his lips crashing back against yours. And from that moment on, there was no going back. No restraint. No hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered want.  

The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the sharp edge of his name falling from your lips, the deep, guttural sounds he made when you pulled him closer, closer— and when it was over, when you were left wrecked beneath him, he didn’t let you go. He stayed. His arms wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still wasn’t done.  Like he never would be.  

Chris brushed his lips against your ear, voice low and dangerous.  

“If he ever tries to take you from me again…”  

A pause. A slow, dark chuckle.  

“He won’t.”  

You swallowed hard. Because it wasn’t a threat. It was a promise. Without hesitation, Chris takes your hand, his eyes filled with a burning intensity. 

Chris breaks the kiss only to trail his lips down your neck, nuzzling and biting gently. His hands tug at your clothing, desperately trying to remove them. He removes your hoodie and joggers before he eagerly removes his jeans and t-shirt, leaving you both in your underwear. He lifts you up and wraps your legs around your waist. 

“Chris…please.” You plead, as desire runs through your veins. 

Chris can feel your begging whisper and it drives him mad with desire. “Shh… Shh…” He murmurs as he carries you to the bed and tossing you onto it. He crawls between your legs, looking up at you with lust-glazed eyes.

Chris spreads your legs wider, moving the side of your panties and revealing your wetness. He groans at the sight, and he leans down- burying his face between your legs. His tongue laps at your pussy, tasting your juices and savouring the flavour. He sucks on your clit gently, which makes you arch your back and groan in pleasure. 

“Chris…” You moan, as you grab fistfuls of his hair, pulling it tight.

He hears his name leave your lips in a breathy plea, and it sends him over the edge. He pulls back, wiping the wetness from his face as he sits up and stares at you with a fierce desire. “You want my dick inside of you, huh?” He says cockily. 

He doesn’t wait for you to reply. He immediately removes your panties and his boxers then aligns himself with your entrance. With one swift thrust, he enters you- earning a loud moan from both of you. He starts moving slowly at first, savouring the feeling of finally being inside you. His best friend. His lover. “Fuck.” He groans.

Chris picks up the pace, diving into you harder with each thrust, his hips slapping against yours. He leans down to capture your lips, kissing you messily as he continues to fill you- his thick cock hitting depths no one else ever has. 

His hands grip your ass, squeezing and spreading you. His kiss becomes more urgent, more passionate as you both continue to move in sync. Your bodies press together in a desperate need for contact. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his own filled with love and desire. “I love you.” He groans out. 

“I love you too.” You reply between moans. He swallows your reply with another deep kiss, his body covering yours possessively. His movements become uncoordinated and sloppy with love and lust. He pushes your legs higher up, going even deeper and hitting that magical spot inside you that makes you cry out. 

You moan loudly as your high washes over you, moaning Chris’ name repeatedly as if it was a prayer. Your legs shake as Chris continues to thrust into you, riding out your high. He growls in satisfaction at your cries, his own release also building. He pushes into you one last time, holding himself deep inside you as he comes hard, filling you with his hot seed. “Mine.” He pants, collapsing on top of you. “Mine, fucking mine.” 

The room was silent, except for the sound of your still-unsteady breathing.  Chris was lying beside you, his arm draped over your waist, his body still pressed against yours like he couldn’t stand the thought of space between you. But there was no mistaking it—something had shifted. Because even though he had kissed you breathless, even though he had left you wrecked and marked and his, there was something in the air that felt unfinished. Like a storm waiting to break.  

You swallowed hard, fingers tracing along the sheets. "Chris…"  

His grip on you tightened.  

"Don’t," he muttered, his voice rough, still thick with the last remnants of heat.  

Your heart clenched. "Don’t what?"  

"Don’t say his name."  

You froze.  

Chris exhaled sharply, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. His gaze was dark, unreadable. But his jaw was clenched, his fingers still gripping your skin like he was afraid to let go.  

"You went to him," he said, voice low. "You met up with him, you sat with him, and you listened to him."  

You bit your lip, unsure how to respond. Because he wasn’t wrong.  

Chris’s jaw tightened. "What did he say?"  

Your throat was dry. "Chris, it doesn’t—"  

"What did he say?" His voice was sharp now. Demanding.  

You hesitated. And that hesitation was enough. Chris cursed under his breath, sitting up, running a hand through his already-messy hair. He was pissed. And not just because of George. Because of you.  

"He told you he loves you, didn’t he?" Chris scoffed, shaking his head. "And let me guess—you didn’t tell him to fuck off. You just sat there, feeling sorry for him."  

Your chest tightened. "Chris, it’s not that simple—"  

"It is that simple," he snapped, turning to you. His eyes were burning. "You chose me, didn’t you?"  

"Of course I did."  

"Then why the hell are you still thinking about him?"  

Your breath hitched. "I’m not—"  

Chris let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "Don’t lie to me."  

The room suffocated with silence. Because he was right. You had chosen Chris. You had let him pull you under, let him claim you in every possible way. And yet, George’s voice still echoed in your mind. I love you.

Chris sighed, his frustration visible, but then—he did something unexpected. He softened. His hand came up to your jaw, his thumb tracing over your lips, his touch gentler than it had been all night.  

"You’re mine," he murmured. But this time, it wasn’t a demand. It was a plea.  

A raw, vulnerable thing. And that’s when you realised— Chris was afraid. Afraid that no matter how much he had taken from you tonight, there were still pieces of you that weren’t his. And you had to decide if you were going to fix that, or let the cracks grow wider.  

Chris’s fingers were still against your jaw, his touch softer now—but his eyes? His eyes were dark, burning with something between frustration and fear. You had never seen him like this before. Chris never doubted himself. Never second-guessed. He was cocky, confident, the kind of guy who never let anything shake him. But right now? He was afraid he was losing you. And you couldn’t let him think that.  So you reached up, cupping his face, your thumb brushing against the edge of his jaw. He stilled under your touch, his breath uneven, his muscles still tense.

"It’s you," you murmured, voice softer now. "It’s always been you."  

Chris swallowed hard, his lips parting like he wanted to argue. Like he wanted to remind you of the other man’s words. But you didn’t let him. You leaned in, pressing your forehead against his, forcing him to focus on you.

"I chose you," you whispered. "Not him."  

Chris’s breath hitched. But you weren’t done.  

"I don’t want him," you murmured, each word slow, deliberate. "I want you."  

That’s when he finally exhaled. The tension in his shoulders melted just a little, his fingers tightening against your skin—but not like before. Not with anger. With need. Chris shifted, moving so quickly you barely had time to react before he was on top of you again, his lips crashing against yours, his grip desperate, almost fragile.

"Say it again," he demanded against your lips.  

You gasped. "I want you.”  

His hands slid down your sides, fingers pressing into your skin like he needed to memorise every inch of you.  

"Only me," he rasped.  

You nodded, breathless. "Only you."  

Chris groaned, his grip tightening, his lips trailing down your neck, claiming you all over again. And this time? It wasn’t about possession. It wasn’t about proving something. It was about you and him. Nothing else. No one else. And for once, there was no doubt left between you.  

For a little while, things felt… right. Chris wasn’t holding back anymore—not his touches, not his words, not the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. And for the first time since everything started, you let yourself believe it was over.  That George had finally let go.  

You should’ve known better.  

It was late when it happened. Chris was in the kitchen, shirtless, barefoot, the glow of the fridge light illuminating his sharp features as he poured himself a drink. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in the scent of him, wearing his hoodie, content in a way you hadn’t been in a long time. And then—  

BANG. BANG. BANG.  

A sharp, relentless pounding against the door. Chris froze. You sat up, the sudden weight in your chest making it hard to breathe. You knew who it was before you even heard his voice.  

"Open the fucking door, Chris."  

Chris set his glass down slowly. Deliberately. His entire body went rigid, his jaw clenching so tightly it looked painful.  

You swallowed hard. "Chris, maybe we shouldn’t—"  

But he was already moving. And when he yanked the door open, George was standing there, rage simmering beneath the surface. His eyes flicked past Chris—to you. And that’s when you knew. This wasn’t just anger. This was a man on the edge. A man who wasn’t done fighting for you.

"You’re fucking kidding me," George laughed bitterly, shaking his head. His hands curled into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling too quickly.  

Chris didn’t react. Not at first. He just stood there, body tense, solid, like he was waiting for George to make a move. But George wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at you.

"You just ran straight to him, huh?" George’s voice was sharp, cutting, but you could hear the hurt beneath it. "No hesitation. No second thoughts."  

Your stomach twisted. "George—"  

"Do you even fucking care?" His voice cracked, his hands running through his hair in frustration. "Do you even care what this is doing to me?"  

You stood up. "Of course I do—"  

"Then why are you here?" He stepped forward. Chris immediately blocked his path.

"Back up." Chris’s voice was dangerously low.  

George ignored him. His eyes were locked onto you. "Say it."  

Your breath hitched. "Say what?"  

"That you don’t love me."  

Your chest tightened.  

George let out a shaky breath, his voice dropping. "Say it, and I’ll walk away. Right now. Forever."  

Chris stiffened. You felt the weight of both of them in the room—George, desperate and breaking, and Chris, tense and waiting. And suddenly, you realised— this was the moment. The final line. Whatever you said next would change everything. The room was suffocating. Chris stood between you and George, his entire body coiled like a predator, ready to snap the second George stepped out of line. But George wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at you. And he was waiting.

“Say it, and I’ll walk away. Right now. Forever."

You inhaled sharply, steadying yourself. Because there was no room left for hesitation. No room for second-guessing. So you looked George in the eyes, voice firm—unshakable.

"I don’t love you."  

The words cut through the air like a blade. George’s breath stilled. His jaw clenched. His entire body locked up. But you weren’t done.  

"I never did."  

Chris exhaled. George? George just… froze. Like his brain refused to process what you had just said. Like some part of him had still been holding onto the hope that you’d change your mind. But now? Now, there was nothing left. You watched it happen—the exact moment his hope died. The exact second he realised that no matter how hard he fought, he had already lost. George took a slow step back. Then another. And when he finally spoke, his voice was quiet. Hollow.

"...Right."  

He swallowed hard, nodding to himself, eyes flicking between you and Chris one last time. Then—without another word—he turned around and walked away. And this time? He didn’t look back. The door clicked shut. Silence. Chris’s shoulders stayed tense for a long moment, like he was still waiting for the fight to continue.  

But when nothing happened—when George was really, truly gone—Chris let out a sharp breath, raking a hand through his hair before turning to face you.  

"...You okay?"  

Your throat felt dry. "Yeah."  

Chris studied you for a second, searching your face.  

Then, his hand reached out, his fingers curling around your wrist, his grip steady. Like he was still afraid you might disappear, too.  

"You’re mine now," he murmured. Not a question. Not a demand. Just a fact.

Your chest tightened—but not with fear. With certainty. You leaned in, pressing your lips softly against his, letting your fingers tangle in his hair as you whispered against his skin—  

"I always was."

And for the first time in a long time, there were no doubts left between you. No ghosts of the past. No unfinished business. Just you and Chris. Exactly how it was always meant to be.

——————————————————————————————————

This took me so long to write but I LOVED it! Also feeding you all with another Chris and George fic. This also feeds one of my friends requests for a Chris smut 👀

I am aiming to get a George one out at some point next week too so look out for that!

Tags-

@themdera

[pamicakery]

OKAY LISTEN TO ME

(long post ahead sorry)

It's been some weeks that I have been reflecting on my manifestation journey. Between the term 3d, 4d, imagination, external world etc.. It can be pretty confuse...

... Even tho it's pretty simple.

˚₊‧꒰ა Manifesting is about printing our SM ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

When we come here on '' Earth '' we base ourselves with our senses. That we have X parents, X appearance, this is our city, our identity. That our world is structured with time, days, month, linear time.

And that we associate imagination with something not real. We discover about science, we got belief about how the world works '' Money is hard to make, we have to work hard, we need a job to make money ''. Sometimes we have toxic parents telling ourselves '' You can't do it, you are not pretty, you are good at nothing ''.

And we find ourselves with a 💩 mindset. What the subconscious mind understand is that the world is a cruel place when making money for a living is hard.

But guess what..

₊✩‧₊˚౨ You can change it! ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

I will never repeat it enough, but manifesting is only about your mind. It's about what is real for your subconscious mind.

♡ We learned that what we see with our senses is the truth, because it's making us aware of our environnement.

I feel like we were brainwashed to think like that.But we can change that! We just have to create a new scenario.

˚₊‧꒰ა the crush example ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Back when I was 16, I had a crush on a guy in my class. He was a lot with girls, speaking to them, laughing, smiling etc. I was feeling like a plastic bag around him. But everytime, I was thinking about me and him together.

I was daydreaming everyday, calling him my boyfriend with my friends etc. I was making this alive in my brain. At every interaction I was looping the scene in my mind, feeling the emotions I felt because it felt good.

So my subconscious mind, despite the fact that sometimes we were on hot and cold behavior, only took one truth, we were together as a couple.

🌸I just changed the scenario because before, when I had crushes I used to told myself

'' He doesn't love me ''. '' He ignored me today ''.

˚₊‧꒰ა The friend group example ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

In my early 20, I had a group of friend. We were all new, so we talked and shared about each other. Everything went well and everyone loved me.

But for some reasons, I started to feel myself excluded from them. I felt alone even though they were around me.

Even though the outside was saying :

'' they are laughing with me, they are talking to me ''

My mind was saying :

'' I feel lonely. I feel apart ''

♡And everytime I was repeating this loop of feeling lonely, the sadness, me asking myself '' Why Can't I have better friend? I feel so left out ''

As a result, my subconscious mind understood how I felt and because it was repetitive, it validated it by making them horrible, they were walking together leaving me behind, mocking me, stealing my stuff, not inviting me anymore.

The subconscious mind doesn't make a difference between what you are describing :

-Coming from the outside.

-Coming from the inside.

For it, it's the same. What makes a difference is the emotions you are putting into those facts and the frequency you are giving this information.

The more you give information to your subconscious mind about how you feel, it will assume it as true. No matter if it was seen with the senses or imagined.

(I didn't said '' real or imagined '' because the SM take both of them as real)

₊✩‧₊˚౨ You can have this Actor, this Kpop Idol, be rich, be beautiful if your subconscious mind assume it as true ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The possibilities are infinite. Really. You can be this, or that. You can be a cake tester and be paid 15k a month just for eating cakes.

If your subconscious mind assume it as true, you can.

You can change your parents, your age, your physical appearance.

If your subconscious mind assume it as true, you can.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ The subconscious mind is like a baby ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Apple flavored or banana flavored a yogurt is a yogurt and the baby will eat it anyway.

'' Seen with the senses or with your mind a fact is a fact and the subconscious mind will consider them as true anyway.

Go soft on yourself. You don't need to feel a flushes of emotions, feeling or regenerated, or powerful. Go easy. Keep it simple. Even just a smile it's okay. When you are introducing yourself, you are not saying

'' My name is X '' with a flush of emotions.

You are saying it like a fact.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ There is a ton of reality ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

-The trip example :

Past year, my family was going on a trip to Paris. They were about to see the Eiffel tower, Disney etc.

For financial reasons, I couldn't afford it so I told my family that I wasn't going with them.As the days goes by, I saw them buying clothes, suitcases, seeing videos of Paris, Disney. I started to feel sad because I knew that I wasn't part of the trip.So I started to isolate myself and thinking

'' What if I am going with them? ''

'' I started to imagining myself with them sitting in the boarding area, sitting on the plane, travelling with them. Seeing the Eiffel tower, Disney ''

And after that, I was saying '' It would be a surprise and a miracle to live that ''

Because based on my senses I wasn't going. But I opened the door to another reality. I was thinking about the opportunity to going with them MORE than staying at home and see them leaving.

And that's what happened.

My subconscious mind assumed that I was part of the trip.

The night before the trip I got everything paid from the plane ticket, to the hotel to Disney.

To make it short because this post is getting too long is that :

Your current life is based upon what your subconscious mind assume as true. For instance, your perception of truth is based on your senses. As your subconscious mind doesn't make the difference between your senses and your mind, speak in your favor.

The more you repeat a pattern, the more it will be printed in your subconscious mind. Because, you are reinforcing an identity in your mind regarding of the outside. The story of the mind is printing your subconscious mind.

Ex :

In my mind, me and my crush were in love so I was printing a love pattern for my crush.

In my mind, I was alone so I was printing a loneliness pattern for my friends.

In my mind I was travelling with my family so I was printing a travelling pattern for my trip.

♡

If your name is X, it's because the outside/senses have printed this into your subconscious mind through your parents, documents, and calling you by that name since you are aware.

➡️So as you can see there was a printing process to saturate your subconscious mind.

So print your subconscious mind for it to assume you have what your desire. Think about it, saturate your mind, or don't. You can assume that you just affirm once and you got it, you can assume that you can wake up with your desires.

If you are changing your appearance stop checking your flaws in the mirror. Stop Reinforce your negative pattern.

˚₊‧꒰ა And if you feel like you are lying ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Know that you are not, it's because you have assumed first the reality you were observing. We are trained to be believe what our senses shows us.

But don't worry. The feeling of ''not believing it' 'it' s the ego because your subconscious mind will alway believe it.

Imagine it like telling a story to your boss and a coworker. The coworker never believes you and need proof (the logical brain) and your boss believes you without any proof because it trust you (the subconscious mind).

The ego will aways barks and speak louder, but the subconscious mind is calm and just nods and accept it silently.

And remember, the more you repeat your affirmation, visualisations, pattern. The more the SM will believe it.

The goal is not to prove it to the ego with external validation, but it's to prove it to the subconscious mind with internal conviction.

Go straight to your mind, and make your subconscious mind assuming your truth, the one you imagined, the one in your favor.

[khaoala]

As for someone who doesn't know what he wants, like me, I'll just be looking for it for a while.

Alright. But if you ever need my help, you gotta let me know. I'm here for you.

Thank you.

FIRST KANAPHAN as KANT PATTANAWAT and KHAOTUNG THANAWAT as BISON AECHITPOL episode 12 of THE HEART KILLERS

[readwritealldayallnight]

I would love a take on boyfriend Ghost coming home to surprise you, but he finds your bed empty and doesn't realize that you are in his room in his bed. Thanks.

The placebo effect, was what he kept trying to convince you it had to be, no matter how many times you rolled your eyes and told him he was wrong

How else could one explain your insistence that Simon’s bed smelled so much like him, becoming your safe space when he was away on long deployments, when he only ever slept with you in your bed most nights to begin with

Hard to believe it was nearly three years ago now that you’d told your friend since childhood, Johnny, about how your search for a new flat was going miserably. You remember how he’d perked up and recounted with a mischievous glint in his eye about how his Lieutenant was apparently searching for a flat mate at the moment, someone who’d be looking after the place while he was away for work

Unsure about living with a strange man you’d never met before, but trusting Johnny’s judgement (though the way he seemed just a bit too eager about this meeting did kind of throw you off-) you had reluctantly agreed to meet with him and at least give the flat a glance before you simply turned him down

It wasn’t until you were knocking at the door of the address Johnny had written down for you, that you’d realized he’d never even given you the man’s goddamn name, only ever referring to him at Lieutenant or LT

Johnny apparently also failed to mention the absolute SIZE of the guy, his huge frame blocking nearly all of the light from behind him as he had swung the door open and stood in the doorway before you

In a slight panic, thrown off by the massive man before you and the way the butterflies in your stomach suddenly began to flutter at the sight of him, you had greeted him for the first time with a squeaky, unsure voice saying ‘Um, hi, are you the Mr Lieutenant?’ (something he has never let you live down since)

He knew then and there that you would be the one

Not just his flatmate (though what a generous flatmate he was when he offered insisted on moving all your boxes out of your old place and into his that very same day), but the one, something he reluctantly had to give Soap credit for, seeing as he was the one who wouldn’t stop talking his ear off about you

You would be his other half, his better half

And all these years later, the two bedroom flat truly only acted as a one bedroom, considering that from the start Simon was always falling into your bed with you at the end of each night, limbs tangled together under the warmth of a lovers embrace a thousand times more comforting than an actual comforter

Still though, that first time Simon had to be gone for work longer than a few weeks, you found the lingering odor of him clinging to his bedsheets to be one of the few things keeping you sane in his absence, taking to sleeping in his room for the time being, imagining that the pillow you cling to your front was a strong muscular arm instead, littered in scars and tattoos you feel confident you could recognize from touch alone

And when his long awaited flight back home to you landed a few hours earlier than expected, tires touching down in the dark, stillness of late night hour, he decided he’d surprise you and come straight home, rather than calling you to meet him at the base like you’d insisted, not wanting to wake you

Barely able to contain himself, he decided the elevator ride up to the seventh floor would take too long, take away precious seconds that brought him closer to you, and so up the flight of stairs he went, taking them two or three at a time, rushing to see the face etched behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes, to hear the voice that haunted his dreams each night

Quietly as a man his size could, he crept into the flat, snuck his way into your room, expecting to see your sweet, sleeping form cuddled up amongst the blankets and pillows. But his heart dropped when he noticed the bed was still perfectly made, not a thread out of place.

Trying to remain calm, though his mind was instantly swarming with every possible scenario that could have taken place, he knew he saw your shoes and jacket by the door, you couldn’t have gone far… but where were you?

He glanced into the living room, wondering if he missed you sleeping on the couch after a long day, he poked his head into the bathroom, even went so far as to check the small balcony, but finally there was only one door left to open.

And there you were, safe and sound, a tiny ball curled up into the center of his huge bed, clinging to one of his old masks and holding it close to your chest as though it were a security blanket (you’d been sleeping in his bed so much you needed something that still smelled strongly of him, you were getting desperate)

Stripping himself down to only his boxers, he tiptoed towards the side of the bed, his mind finally feeling more at peace than he ever had, gently pulling the sheets back just enough for him to slip in behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you into his muscular chest

Though it should be alarming to suddenly feel a pair of hands roaming over your skin, a body holding you firmly against their own, it’s as though your body knows who it is before your mind does

Any tension you were still holding onto during his absence instantly melts away, your own hands coming to land over top of his, giving a slight squeeze of acknowledgment, not yet willing to fully leave your half asleep state, but needing to touch him, to confirm he really is here

“Hmm,” You hum, voice groggy with sleep and a smile slowly stretching across your lips, snuggling further into his embrace. “You’re home.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing you in, wishing he could bottle up the scent of your shampoo and lotions and perfumes, if only to have something to hold onto while he’s away, understanding now why he found you in this bed rather than your own

“I am.” He whispers into your hair, sensing that you’re already drifting back into dream land, safe in his arms and his bed, knowing he’ll be there when you wake. He feels his chest tighten when he knows that you weren’t talking about the fact that he’s physically home, in the flat, but something more, something much more, because he means the same thing when he tells you, “You’re my home too, love.”

[alexiroflife]

"first day"

fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off

Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door

to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of

WC: 1,701

Warning(s): none

"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.

His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"

"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."

"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.

"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."

"Not at all, actually," you agree.

Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"

"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."

"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.

"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.

"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."

"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.

"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."

"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."

"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.

"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."

Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.

"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"

"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."

"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"

"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."

"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.

"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.

"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.

"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.

"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.

"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.

"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."

"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."

"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."

Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"

"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."

The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."

"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."

Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.

"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."

The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"

"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."

"But-"

"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.

"Yes, ma'am."

Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"

"We done, now?"

"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."

Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.

Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.

He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."

You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."

"I know. I will," he nods.

"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."

"I won't."

"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."

"I'll try."

You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.

"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.

"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"

"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."

"Please do."

Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."

"Don't speed, Toji."

"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.

"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.

"See ya, doll."

"Bye, mum."

The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.

You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.

You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.

Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.

"Yep."

Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.

Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."

"I'm gonna cry."

The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"

"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."

"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."

"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."

"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."

"You're being for real?"

"Of course I am."

You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."

"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"

"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."

He smirks. "Will do, doll."

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

More of Stanley's sketchbook because he makes me sick /pos

(Just imagine he was looking in a mirror at the subway to draw this anshfhwj. The london bus ticket is unrelated, it's just a random knick knack he had lying around<3)

People weren't the only ones Stan met on the streets.

------

+ this is an absolute fucking batshit WILD oneshot I initially wrote for these drawings that got WAY out of hand, if you feel like reading that.

The oneshot below is a stand-alone now, and in no way is related to the drawings above, but I just wanted to show you guys because Jesus Christ

------

Winter of 1981, at a subway station Stan doesn't remember the name of-

The sorry excuse of a transport system that this hellhole of a city called a functioning subway was hardly anyone's first choice of a warm place to stay the night. And yet, here Stanley was; standing like an idiot in the middle of a small bustling stairwell that led down to the full screeching chaos of a train stop on a Tuesday evening. A rowdy crowd of exhausted office workers streamed out like a tidal wave from the entrance of the station, the bustle of their footsteps all too eager to go home and relax after a long day of work.

The faint, stuffy stench of old piss and sweat followed the crowd to the surface from the deep depths of a less than sanitary and overcrowded train station. The pungent smell intermingled with the crisp stinging winter air in a cocktail of shitty city gloom often associated with this time of the year; when the holidays were too far away and the sun seemed to come and go with practically the same 9 to 5 schedule as the workers had, leaving them going to work in the pitch dark and coming back out in the inky black as well.

He might have looked like he belonged there, depending on how one would want to look at it. He stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the sea of prim, pressed suits and neart uniforms. His ratty old jacket and generally unwashed appearance certainly didn’t help his case, but he also knew that stations like these also tended to shelter quite a number of homeless wanderers like him, especially during the winter. So, it wasn't exactly uncommon to see other sore thumbs seeking reprieve from the biting cold and the dangerous likelihood of frostbite from within the enclosed walls of the subway station.

Heck, if most of these underground kingdoms didn't also happen to be a breeding ground for several illicit activities, he might even have followed their lead. But, believe it or not, Stanley's already had enough experience with illegal activities to last him a last time, and he isn't looking for a new fill. He was satisfied with what meager shelter his trusty car offered him, as little a difference it might make in terms of safety.

Stanley's obstruction of the already narrow stairs with his loitering went unappreciated, as shoulders roughly shoved past him and swinging briefcases repeatedly bumped into his sides, usually coupled with a nasty glare and a snide comment or two. He paid them no mind, however. He wasn't here to start a fight with some random bum with a dead end job, as much as he thought it would probably do them both some good to duke their stresses out on one another.

The hours ticked by with wave after wave of new crowds being dropped off by a train and left to pour out of the station into the streets. By the time the streetlights turned on and the pale pink in the sky slowly faded to make way for the stark glittery black of the night sky, the tide of people had slowed to a trickle and rush hour was long since over. He was now the stairs’ sole occupier, with a few occasional stragglers stumbling up the steps and hurrying past him without a second glance.

Stanley did not move from his spot, however. He stood resolutely in the middle of the stairway, fervently rubbing his arms and stamping his feet in a futile attempt to try and regain feeling in his extremities as he waited. Rocking on his heels, he titled his head backwards to let his eyes roam the constellations that carpeted the endless expanse of the sky stretched out above his head, almost losing himself in the scintillating canvas of stars.

It reminded him of old times; of the sparkling beach sand twinkling in the dim moonlight, and the soft sound of lilting waves hovering in the background as he lay back on the cold wooden deck of his ship and watched the stars dance.

He still remembered every name his brother had once recited to him time and time again as he pointed out each star and galaxy from the night sky.

Then, like clockwork, he was broken out of his reveries by a telltale meow coming from below. The sound was a familiar blanket that immediately melted away the tension that had begun to build in his chest as he practically sagged with relief.

His body moved almost automatically as he leaned down to detach the frail tabby cat that was attempting to literally fuse with his legs, purring up a storm and rubbing her head against his pants as though her life depended on it. The cat gave a soft chirrup of dissatisfaction at being manhandled, which Stanley absentmindedly replied with a chiding click of his tongue as he lifted her up his chest and gently tucked her into his jacket in a practiced motion.

She thankfully remained blissfully limp in his grasp as he shifted around some more so that she was nestled comfortably inside the dark pocket of warmth inside his ratty jacket. The tiny warm lump that rumbled contently against his front radiated with heat, and his fingers finally began to feel like actual fingers rather than useless stiff frigid lumps of meat and bone attached to his palms.

A pointed cough startled him from his clumsy wriggling to get the cat to settle down. An oddly familiar security guard stood at the entrance of the station at the bottom of the stairs, leveling Stanley an unimpressed look with the metal gate in his grip already halfway closed, ready to seal the subway for the night. He must have been a comical sight; caught awkwardly bent over while trying to get his newly acquired cat to stop kneading biscuits on his stomach, with said cat peeking out from the gap between his collars.

Stanley faintly recognized the guard. He was a much older man, with a shock of thinning white hair neatly tucked underneath a dark blue cap and a strange depth in his eyes that reminded Stanley of the sea; with countless unspoken truths lurking far beneath the surface, but no less grand and knowing of all that the universe had to offer, as though he had already lived a thousand lives before this one.

He had seen the man around before, at another station, doing the opposite of his job by ushering stray buskers and homeless stragglers from the streets and into the (relatively) safe walls of the subway, instead of doing what any other law-abiding security guard would do and kick them out into the elements. He wasn't sure what the older man was doing here, of all places, since all the previous stations he'd seen the man at had been several states over, practically on the other side of the country.

A brief spark of panic shot through his spine at the thought that this man could be following him, but he quickly discarded the ridiculous notion as soon as it entered his mind. He had never even seen him before, and hardly ever even interacted with him; there was no reason for there to be any sort of bad blood between them. Unless he happened to be related to one of Stanley's many, many enemies, then perhaps his fear was a little warranted.

However, the old guard made no move to attack or do anything other than stare judgmentally, almost expectantly. For the first time in a long time, Stanley felt like a child being caught doing something he wasn't supposed to do. He tried his best to keep his uncomfortable squirming to a minimum under the unrelenting gaze, stubbornly returning the man's gaze with his own wary glare. His cat’s muffled whining came from inside his jacket. The traitor, she was leaving him to deal with the old man on his own.

With an exasperated jerk of his head, the security guard gestured towards the inside of the station. For a moment, Stanley stared dumbly, uncomprehending of what the old man could possibly want from him. Rolling his eyes, this time the man gestured more insistently at the small gap that still remained between the metal gate and the entrance, his arm sweeping the air in a low arc as he dramatically urged Stanley inside. Suddenly, it clicked, and Stanley shook his head.

“I have a car,” he said plainly, his voice echoing loudly in the desolate silence of the winter night that surrounded the unlikely pair.

He wasn't sure why he was so nervous, it wasn't as though he was lying. He did have a car, his trusty Stanley-mobile was parked safely away in the corner of an unassuming alley that wasn't often frequented by anyone. There was no way he was reaching it tonight, though; it was practically on the other side of the city, much too far away for him to arrive at a reasonable time. His nightly excursions to meet his small friend unfortunately left him with no other choice than to leave his car behind, the hunk of metal far too unwieldy and noticeable to drive around openly on the streets. He never knew who could be watching, after all.

He had simply been hoping to find himself a dark corner to tuck himself into with his cat, just for the night, but it seemed as though the universe had other plans. Or rather, this strange old man had other plans.

Although, if Stanley thought about it, the subway wasn't such a bad suggestion. This was one of the safer stations in the city; and with the rich neighborhoods being so close by, no rogue criminal or dealers dared to come near this area unless they wanted to be slapped with a hefty fine or face a higher potential to be arrested. And of course, there was the obvious shelter from the unrelenting cold that now seemed to permeate his bones, even with the purring warmth that was nestled inside his jacket.

So, that was how he found himself hunkering down for the night inside a shabby old subway station, with a satisfied cat still rumbling away against his chest and a strange old security guard locking down the gates behind him. The man said nothing as he hooked his keys back onto his belt and gave a firm pat on Stanley's shoulders as he walked past him, pausing to scratch his cat behind her ears before moving away. His footsteps bounced off of the grimy tiled walls with an odd reverb as he turned a corner.

“You'll be safe in here,” the man said, voice sage and gravelly. The words had a weight to them, and seemed to hang in the air with such a presence it was as though the old man had never even left his side.

The subway was empty, quiet. It was such a stark contrast to the loud rowdiness of the rush hour crowd these halls once held. Stanley hadn't yet registered the utter silence of the station as he aimlessly made his way down the winding, deserted halls of the ancient station. He mindlessly walked past the aged and peeling advertising posters plastered on the walls, his nose becoming accustomed to the stinging stench of the subway. The quiet seemed to swallow the sound of his steps as he explored the branching paths and endless tunnels. They were almost kaleidoscopic, dizzying, nonsensical. There were doors where there shouldn't be, and deadends where it didn't make sense.

The silence only began to truly settle in his bones the more he walked. He suddenly wished that he would head the telltale footsteps of the old security guard again, just to hear another sign of life in this underground hellscape other than himself. The ghostly memories of screeching trains and bustling crowds haunted the halls; now, only nothingness reigned supreme. He glanced down at his small feline companion, who slumbered away against his chest, blissfully unaware of his jackrabbiting heartbeat threatening to burst out of his ribs. The silence seemed to permeate every inch of space and crush the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe.

Stanley’s steps grew faster, more frantic as the walls and ceilings seemed to close in on him. They grew smaller, tighter; squeezing, trapping. He hardly even registered his cat's complaints as she was jostled around in his grasp, breaking into a full out run. His breathing sounded loud, too loud, and the world was collapsing around him.

When he finally broke out into a large, open platform, he could finally breathe again. He had arrived at the tracks, the empty tunnel where the trains would pass an empty, gaping maw in the wall that seemed to swallow all light around it and beckon him closer. He felt his cat wriggle out from within his jacket and hop out with a displeasured yowl, scampering away and disappearing behind a corner much like the old man had. True silence pierced his ears and thrummed like a deafening pressure in his temples. He was alone.

Stanley was stuck in that subway station for years.

[on-the-clear-blue]

Tim walking into the dining room: Oh B, i just realized, happy 5 years sober, I am really proud of you.

Bruce, small smile and sipping his tea: Thank you Tim.

Dick, looking up confused from his bowl of cereal: What? Sober? Weren't you drinking last night at the gala?

Bruce, brows furrowed: Not from alcohol, Chum.

Tim, after downing his cup of coffee: Damn you didn't know? It was cocain. B was on that booger sugar.

Bruce, making a face: Please, never call it that again.

Dick, after his brain rebooted: You...you did cocain?

Bruce sighing :Yes I did...I though you knew.

Dick, abandoning his bowl of cereal: No, no I very much didn't! How did you...like get into that?

Tim: Dick take it down a notch, please? Bruce has been clean for years.

Bruce, shaking his head: It's fine Tim, I should have been more up front with this to the others.

Dick, with his head tilted and still a bit upset: Others? You mean only Tim knew?

Bruce, nodding: He caught me taking a key from one of Penguins supply when he was Robin and forced me to confess, I went to rehab a week later.

Dick, sitting back down in a stupor: Wait...You mean the thing when you were gone for like a few months? I thought you were on a deep space mission with the league! Hell, Uncle Clark even said so!

Bruce, wincing: Y-Yes...I was in a treatment center in Sweden...Tim found them and signed me up without telling me, and had Clark take me there...

Bruce side eyeing Tim: Took my Kryptonite before doing so...and my stash.

Tim, unapologetic, shrugging: Mom used the same place when she was getting off of Quaaludes.

Bruce, shrunching his nose: Never did like downers, made it harder to think.

Dick, having a mental breakdown: So you just...did drugs? For like a while? When did this even start?

Bruce, silent for a while, moving his breakfast around for a moment: It started when I was about...16? When I was in the club scene for a bit I got wild, taking pills and such that I didn't need, it was the 80s, blow was all the rage with the youth in higher circles and...well one thing lead to another and I got hooked.

Dick, holding his head in his hands: Oh my God...Wait.. Were you actively doing drugs when you adopted me???

Bruce, groaning: Yes...Didn't it ever seem strange that sometimes I was very lively and then suddenly was practically dead an hour later before getting back to lively?

Dick, horror coming across his face: Oh my God the signs...

Tim, chuckling: B was a God damn drug fiend, practically snorted half of Columbia.

Bruce, looking scandalized: Tim! I was not that bad...

Tim staring at Bruce:

Bruce staring back:

Bruce, sighing: Fine yes it was that bad.

Dick: uninhorant screeching

Bruce, tsking: I quit a few years after taking you in Chum, I only relapsed when Jason...temporarily passed...and that was only for at most a year, Tim found me out, sent me to rehab and while I have had a few scares, I have been sober for years.

Dick: Happy for you, really but holy fuck.

Tim, snorting: It wasn't the first time I caught you B, imagine little old 10 year old me following Batman and Robin and stumbling across the Dark Knight of Gotham doing a line on a gargoyle while Robin beat the shit out of the dealers below.

Dick, agape: Really Bruce? Do you even remember that?

Bruce, Blushing: i...may have done that more than once...

Dick, crying on the inside: BRUCE?!

Jason, walking in with a smoothie: Oh what are we yelling at B for? I want in.

Dick, wildly pointing at Bruce: BATMAN DID COCAIN.

Jason, slowly taking a drag from his smoothie, before turning to Bruce: w h a t?

Bruce, hiding his face in his hands, sullenly: I trained you all better than this. Yes I did drugs, I am 5 years sober.

Jason, softly putting his smoothie down before walking over to Bruce and patting his shoulder: Proud of you for that, like actually good job, holy shit that is hard. But also WHAT THE FUCK.

Bruce, sighing hard: I thought you all knew...

Jason flopping down in a chair, counting on his fingers: Wait a God damn minute, you got on my case for smoking while doing cocain!

Bruce, dead panned: it's a gate way to much harder things.

Jason, squinting: Who are you D.A.R.E?

Tim, cackling: he was! Did a whole speech about it! Full Batman regalia and was talking about how weed is bad!

Bruce glaring lightly at Tim: It is! It can cause lung damage, a build up of black tar in the lungs and can dull your mind when you are in a tike of crisis!

Jason, rolling his eyes: B, Shut the fuck up you did cocain.

Bruce, sighing yet again: You really are not letting that go are you...

Tim, sipping his coffee: Think of it like this, there is a reason B was able to get back to fighting like a week after Bane broke his back.

Bruce, pursing his lips,: Not the time Tim.

Tim, grinning evilly: Oh no, it is very much the time, I have been waiting till the others knew...I have so many blackmail stories....and pictures

Bruce, a look of true fear on his face: Oh God no...

[tinyarsonist]

Volume: Up

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Summary: In which heart throb K-Pop Idol, Bangchan, just shows you how 'Christopher' he can really be.

MDNI 18+ Only

TW: idol!Chan, IdolTrainee!Y/N(fem!), drinking, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), smut in general, dirty talk, swearing, masturbation, dumification, nipple play (fem!), cum on stomach, PleasureDom!Chan, switch!reader (fem!), pull out, cum on stomach, let me know if I missed anything!

Italics are in Korean. Bold is in Spanish. Rest in English.

Volume Series: Part One | Part Two | ?

You were still in awe.

You started your career as an idol fairly late in the game, making you older than most. But, when you entered the world of K-pop, you knew this was what you were meant to do. You were already creating music since you were young, and how hard could it be?

Very.

There were days as a trainee when you felt like giving up. You left your friends and family back home to pursue your dream, and after years, you still felt like you were right back at the same spot you started. Never moving. Stagnant.

That's when you discovered Stray Kids. Watching their debut to where they are now. It motivated you.

Then, one day, your company announces that they want you to lead a team. They presented you with suitable candidates for your girl group, but something in you felt like something wasn't right. "Sorry," you apologize to your board. "But, if I may be so bold as to recruit my own members?"

You wanted a family. Craved friendship beyond just another gig. And, well, let's say it worked out very well for you.

This brings you to the present day--standing in DIV studio, surrounded by its members, to do an interview. Your group was just starting out and already doing well. You've posted a couple of dance practices and some ballad covers you performed as a group, tracking some major views across all social media. DIV wanted to be the first to be a part of the soon-to-be international hype.

"You ready?" Eric smiled at you as the crew set up your microphone. You nodded happily. The rest of your group couldn't make it due to schedule. It felt weird not having the rest of your girls around you, but knew this wasn't an opportunity you just passed up.

Time passes, and so far, the interview is going great. It was amazing being around like-minded people. And, it was also nice being able to curse and not have to worry about your 'imagine' among them. They were free to be who they wanted. They wanted to break the mold; conformity was not in their dictionary. It took a while to let your company agree to the interview in the first place, but this was the direction you wanted to take the group. To be yourself and just produce music.

"Okay, so next up is the heart rate challenge." Eric smiled. You were divided into teams; you and Eric vs. Peniel and BM. The winner would be dubbed by the lowest combined heart rate.

"You're going down!" BM teased as Peniel hyped him up in the back. You grin brightly.

"Considering you boys are literally jumping around before the monitor is even placed, I think it's safe to say we'll win."

"Oh okay, that's how it's gonna be??" Peniel laughed. "Then let's make a bet; the loser buys everyone barbeque!"

Eric and you agreed in a heartbeat. You were already craving galbi and rice. Peniel essentially just bought the dinner you were going to buy tonight anyway.

As the heart monitors are placed, you try your best to stay calm. You were an anxious person in general, but when push comes to shove, you always had a way of relaxing yourself.

Peniel and BM went first. Eric and you teased them relentlessly during their time duration of 5 minutes. Peniel started blushing during his time up when you started throwing winks and kisses his way. Their combined score was 250.

"That's not far!" Peniel groaned as the video crew asked for a short break to recalibrate their equipment. "She's too cute, like how does someone not get flustered?"

"It's all fun and games in love and war," you winked at him. Everyone laughed except Peniel, who just took out his phone and pouted. His fingers typed furiously on his keyboard. Once it was time to get the cameras rolling again, Peniel had a knowing smirk on his face. You couldn't help but wonder what he was concocting. You just knew he was plotting his revenge against you.

Eric went first. Despite the constant harassment Peniel and BM gave him, you couldn't help but laugh at their jabs. "You're supposed to be on my team!" Eric roared at you at his last 10 seconds on the clock. Despite everything, his heart rate totaled to 120. All you had to do was ignore the comments for a minute. You got this. You sat down in the middle of the floor and crossed your legs, getting in an almost meditative position. The rest followed. Then the buzzer started.

"So," Peniel started as soon as the timer started going. "You learned Korean by yourself, right?"

You shot him a distrusting glance. "Yes..."

Peniel and BM nodded their heads slowly. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very interesting." Eric shot you a glance. He could feel it, too. Based on how the two acted Eric's turn was completely different, they were calm. Too calm. They were up to something.

"One might say," Peniel feigned thoughtfulness by stroking his chin. "You had an interest in learning Korean before you even had thought of becoming a trainee."

Crap. He saw the clip.

Before your group days, you would do little lives here and there. Just want to document your early days and interact with anyone who wants to chat. During that time, you mentioned the real reason you learned Korean was to easily watch interviews without the need for subtitles. Then you casually mentioned how much of a fan you were for a certain boy group. Your fans, which was very little back then, took those clips and circulated them online. Which was fine. It gained some traction that you were a STAY and helped grow your platform. It was a bit embarrassing, essentially admitting that you only learned the language to watch their episodes and lives to get full context. But, hey, it also helped you get to where you are today.

Getting bullied by two idols so they don't have to pay for your dinner.

"Yes, Peniel. I learned Korean so I can watch Stray Kids' interviews live." You roll your eyes but keep track of where your monitor is. 95bpm. Not bad. So long as you stayed below 130, that galbi was yours.

Peniel and BM continued to stroke their chins. "Interesting"/"Yes, yes, very... Stray Kids fan. Very cool"

Peniel held up a finger before leaving the room. You looked around at the crew, confused. Eric laughed and peered after him; "Where is he going?"

His question was answered as Peniel stepped back into the room with a shorter figure behind him. You moved around to peer behind Peniel, and when you locked eyes with the guest, your heart rate shot up. 110bpm.

Eric and BM rose to give a small bow when Chan said his hellos. You stayed still in your place. Embarrassment immediately washed over you. But you took a deep breath in and out, 3 minutes until you can freak out. 3 minutes, and you can process every single emotion you are feeling.

Chan gave you a little wave, his dimples showing as he smiled. Ugh, he might as well shoot you in the heart right now.

"You're not gonna stand up?" Peniel teased. You immediately shook your head. As much as you wanted to say hi, dinner was calling your name. Seeing Chan in the flesh was amazing. But Galbi beat everything at this moment. BM smiled brightly and motioned for Chan to take a seat next to you. How sweet.

2 minutes. 115bpm.

You bowed your head slightly to say hello, still a bit too stunned to speak. Chan gave a small head bow back. "Sorry about this," he chuckled. You told him it was okay, but still unable to make eye contact. Despite that, you knew he looked incredible. He always did.

Focus! You tried to snap yourself out of it and took deep breaths. In and out. In and out.

"So... you learned Korean to watch us live? That's sweet," Chan felt awkward all of a sudden. When Peniel texted him, this wasn't what he expected to be doing during the interview. "How many languages do you know?"

You close your eyes and focus back on the game. Here you were making casual conversation, while 3 other idols were jabbing at you, trying to get your heart rate back up. "Four; English, Korean, Japanese, and Spanish."

"Holy crap, how is it going down?!" Eric looked at the monitor and backed up at you. You kept your eyes closed, trying to maintain a steady rhythm. Everyone but Chan was losing their shit.

You could hear BM jump to his feet. The impending doom of a very large bill drove his heart rate up. "Chan, do something!" He exclaimed in Korean. Chan giggled next to you; "What? What do I do?"

"Hit on her!" Peniel got up as well. All attention is now on Chan. Eric stood up and pointed at the two competitors; "Hey! Hey! You leave her alone!"

You couldn't help but chuckle; "I was subscribed to his bubble. I was in the trenches with the rest of STAY. There's nothing he can say that I haven't heard."

Chan clicked his teeth with his tongue. His eyes narrowed. A challenge. He looked at you, with your eyes still closed, before casting his gaze over at Eric. "Anyway, we can mute our mics for a sec?"

Your eyes shot open.

1 minute. 120bpm.

BM ran over to mute your mic. As soon as he backed up, Chan leaned in close to your ear. His breath tickled your cheek, and you had to close your eyes again. 125 bpm. 30 seconds.

"I bet I can make you scream in Korean."

Chan wasn't expecting you to turn your head so quickly towards him. The way your face flushed. Your eyes wide. Everything about you was making his heart race. You locked eyes with him and felt like you couldn't breathe. This was it. That free galbi was gone.

The buzzer went off.

Everyone turned to the monitor.

129bpm.

You shot up from your seat and hugged Eric. Peniel and BM groaned at their loss. Chan laughed as he watched the two of you jumping around, singing about free barbeque.

He took a moment to sneak a look at you, his gaze traveling up and down. The way your hair bounced with you and how your outfit was snuggling your curves just right. He stood up as Eric said their sign-off. Once the cameras were shut off, the teasing started between the four. Peniel placed his arm around the younger idol and pulled him in a side hug. "It's okay," he reassured Chan. "It's not entirely your fault. A good majority of it. But, not fully."

Chan laughed and rolled his eyes. Everyone came up to thank him for coming over. That's when he locked eyes with you again, giving him a bright smile.

You gave the bow you weren't able to give before, formally introducing yourself. You all talked for a bit until you felt your hunger start to spike up; "Okay, so when are we getting dinner?"

The group settled for a time later tonight so everyone could get ready. BM invites Chan to tag along.

"No no," Chan shook his head, not wanting to impose. Peniel tickled his stomach as the rest of the group tried to get him to agree. You couldn't help but chime in. Part of you being selfish and wanting to spend more time with him and also wanting to get a jab in at Peniel and BM; "Come on, it'll be fun. And free!"

Chan looked at you. It was subtle, but his cheeks turned a bit red. "Y-yea, okay."

Chan made his way back to his dorm. The rest of the members who share the space are away on their own schedules. It was rare for Chan to spend the night alone.

He groaned as he plopped on the couch. He was still a bit jet lagged from flying from NYC back home. Laying his head on the back of the couch, he tried to take a nap before having to get ready to head out for dinner with you and the rest of the group.

You.

His mind was restless, and for some reason, they kept fluttering back to you. No matter how much he tried to push them out, he couldn't stop thinking about your big doe eyes. The way your breath hitched as he leaned in. The perfume you were wearing.

Was it Channel? Gucci? Whatever it was, it was flowery like a spring day. He could still smell it on his clothes oh so slightly.

Biting his lower lip, he got up from his seat and headed to the shower. The warm water was welcoming as he tried to clear his head. Unfortunately, it seemed there was only one thing to rid him of these thoughts.

The amount of guilt he felt once he stroked his cock to the thought of you was soon discarded as his mind wandered even more.

What were you like? Did you relinquish control or demand it? Were your lips as soft as he can imagine? Your mouth--oh God. How would it feel to have it wrapped around him? Were you a moaner? A screamer? Could he scramble your brain so much that you scream for him in Korean? Would you come in multiple languages?

He sped up his pace even faster. Water cascaded down his back as he faced the tile bathroom wall. One hand on the structure to ground him as he lost himself at the thought of you. He leaned his head back as he felt himself building and building. The warm water was a comforting feeling on his scalp.

The way he would take you as soon as you entered the dorm. No words, just a clash of flesh as he stripped you of your clothes and bent you over the couch. He wouldn't waste any time and would just thrust into your--oh God. How would you feel around his dick? How tight--

He muffled a moan as he came on his hand. The shower washed away any evidence of his inappropriate thoughts of you. He panted heavily and stood under the water for a couple of moments, pleasure rippling through him soon to be replaced with an abundant amount of guilt for getting off to someone he barely knew.

Maybe that was the thrill of it. Maybe the thought of having someone who didn't know his ups and downs is what did it for him.

Chan didn't have time to dwell on the thought as the time to meet up was fast approaching. And he hated to admit, but the thought of seeing you made his now softening cock twitch.

By the time Chan arrived at the restaurant, platters and drinks were spread across the shared table. BM and Peniel bought out a room so they could enjoy their meal without prying eyes. Chan could hear them hollering in the room before he even opened the door. His ears rang as they all loudly greeted him.

"Look who finally made it!" Peniel laughed as Chan took a seat across from them. Eric and BM were putting meat on the grill as they said their greetings. Chan couldn't help but scan the room, taking note that you weren't there. He tried to play it cool as he asked if you were running late.

"She texted us saying there was something she needed to finish up at home," BM answered him. Eric couldn't help but wiggle his eyebrows at Chan.

"Why? Scared she might not come?"

"No, no." Chan chuckled awkwardly while looking off to the side. "Was just wondering, is all."

The boys all made cooing noises. A flush of embarrassment washed over Chan at their teasing. Peniel smirked; "Wouldn't blame you, she's gorgeous!"

Chan poured himself a shot of soju, trying his best to drown out their teasing and take the stress away. The three men quit their teasing and talked about mundane things; schedules, new music coming out, and how big the bags under Chan's eyes were.

"I just flew back from New York!"

"Doesn't matter! Ever heard of eye cream!"

They were laughing at one another by the time you entered the room. Everyone stood up to greet you with a bow, and you bowed back. Gesturing for them to take their seats again. "Sounds like a party in here," you smiled as you took a seat next to Chan. He took note of how you wore your hair up in a messy bun, showing off your silver necklace. That flowery smell radiated off of you, and he had to lean a bit to the side so it didn't flood his senses in all the right ways.

"Is that soju or vodka?" You spot a filled shot glass from across the table. "Actually, it doesn't matter. Hand me it."

Chan watched you down the shot with a smile and motioned for Eric to pour you another one. "Hard day?"

The second shot went down a bit smoother and you gave him a grin. "You can say that."

He didn't need to know that the line he whispered in your ear had stressed you out to your core. It was possibly the hottest thing any man has ever said to you. It was all you could think about by the time you reached your dorm. His voice echoed in the back of your mind causing your body to feel hot.

He didn't need to know the real reason why you were late to dinner.

That you were squirming on your bed, rubbing yourself furiously between your legs. Trying to get all the tension out of your body before having to see him again.

And now you were sitting next to him. The man responsible for one of the best solo sessions in your life.

"I mean, I did have to spend half the day with these three." You gestured to the rest of the group who just booed at you. Eric rolled up a napkin and threw it your way, causing you to laugh.

As you and the group ate and drank, the room was beginning to get louder and louder. It wasn't long until everyone became tipsy.

You just finished cooking up your Galbi and offered it to the rest of the group who everyone, except Chan, declined. You used the tongs to bring it over to his plate before attempting to cut it. "Damn things," you huffed under your breath. The scissors were dull and worn out. Trying to cut through the meat was as effective as slicing a rib-eye with a spoon.

"Here," Chan grabbed the tongs and scissors from your hand. Despite the very brief time that his fingers brushed yours, you couldn't help but blush a bit as he gave you your half. You didn't have time to feel embarrassed as you caught Eric eyeing the two of you. He had his fingers interlaced and resting his head on them.

"You two look cute together~"

"Shut up," you mumble and grab some kimchi to add to your plate.

Chan sat quietly next to you. He plopped some food in his mouth, the best excuse he had to not comment. BM chuckled before pouring another round of drinks. "What did you say to her anyway? Peniel was screaming so loud I couldn't even hear it."

The two of you were sitting so close to one another, that you could feel Chan stiffen next to you. No doubt, wanting to avoid another round of ridicule from his colleagues.

"Awe, jealous he wasn't whispering in your ear instead?"

That snarky reply was all it took for the other two boys to holler and tease the living crap out of him. As the night progressed, soon talk of continuing the party commenced. Chan mentioned he had a free dorm tonight.

"You in?"  Eric asked you. You looked up from your plate of Galbi and rice. You were so distracted by your plate that you didn't realize they were all waiting for your answer. You hesitated. You obviously had this attraction to Chan since the interview. Hell since even before you became a trainee. The frustration of him being so near, mixed with alcohol, might just be the equation for something disastrous.

Chan bit his lower lip while sneaking a glance at you. He knew it was stupid to invite everyone over. To invite you over. He was already feeling the effects of drinking so much, trying to keep pace with everyone. What if he slipped up? Did something that made you hate him?

But then a wonderful thought popped into his mind: What if something amazing happened?

"It'll be fun," Chan gave you his shy grin. Your heart raced as you two locked eyes. How could you say no to that face?

"You got this," you whispered to yourself as you stood in front of Chan's door. It wasn't every day you're invited to a celebrity's apartment. Especially one that you've imagined in bed with when you're stressed out after work. Everyone left in their own taxi after dinner, planning to meet up at Chan's. You stayed a bit behind to make some phone calls to your family overseas, promising that you would be there soon. "Totally normal get-together. Nothing to worry about."

After a couple of seconds, you gather enough courage to knock on the door. A moment or two the door swings open and Chan stands there. God, he looked great with his messy hair, black tee, and joggers. Giving him that ready-for-bed look--

"Wait, were you asleep?"

Chan's face turned red. He was in bed. But he definitely wasn't sleeping.

"They didn't text you? They got a call on the way over, their schedule moved up earlier in the morning so they headed back home."

Oh.

You pull out your phone and groan. "Batteries dead." You just had to make those calls? You knew your mom could talk your ear off.

"Sorry," you put the phone back in your pocket. Taking a step back, you start to head out. "Have a good night."

"Wait!" He couldn't just let you leave. It could be from all the alcohol, but watching you saunter away felt wrong. He wanted you near him. To stay. "It's late... You can charge your phone and call a cab here if you want."

You didn't fight it. You know you should've. Chan was right, it was late. The responsible thing to do would be to go home. But that didn't stop you from sitting on his couch waiting for your phone to charge enough to call your ride. The two of you scrolled through YouTube on his TV, chatting about anything that came to mind as you both sipped on some mixed drinks Chan concocted when you first entered the apartment.

It was weird. Without the others, conversation flowed almost naturally between you two.

"You mean to tell me, you've never watched any of your own fan cams?!" You exclaimed. Chan shook his head and laughed shyly.

"No, it felt weird watching close-ups of myself if that makes sense?"

"You really should, they always look phenomenal!"

You grabbed the remote to scroll through the recommended videos to watch. Chan took the opportunity took look you over for the umpteenth time tonight. Here he was just in joggers and an oversized shirt while you sported a cute long-sleeved crop top and tight jeans. He had to grab the pillow next to him to cover up the bulge he was sporting.

You settled on a music video by RenMakesMusic.  The strum of the guitar had Chan bobbing his head along to the beat. The lyrics were a bit dark but meaningful. "This is good," Chan mused. "Turn it up a bit."

You gladly obliged with a smile, pressing the remote's volume button so his subwoofers would have to do some heavy lifting. Music filled the apartment as the two of you watched the video. You didn't realize it initially, but your shoulder pressed against his. You slowly shifted to your right, to create distance not trying to give him the wrong impression, but were surprised when he leaned back into you. It was comforting.

It was right.

"Everything okay?"

Chan's question broke through your mind wandering. You felt your cheeks heat up a bit. "Y-yea, um. Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hall, to the right."

Chan watched as you made your way to the guest bathroom. He couldn't help but keep his eyes on your backside. Once you disappeared, he leaned further back into the couch and groaned.

What was he doing? Letting you in this late, checking you out when you weren't looking, trying to get any physical contact no matter how little it was. It was stress, it had to be. His schedule has been so hectic lately his body was trying to find relief since his mind was almost running amock. Chan was so lost in thought that he let YouTube play on in the background. Not paying much attention to what was playing.

When you exited the bathroom, you were greeted with bongos and macarenas bouncing through the dorm. Peaking around the corner you spotted Chan leaning against the couch. He had his head back against the rest, his eyes closed. But despite his worn-down posture, he was still tapping his foot to the beat. "Aw, come on--you call that dancing?"

Your voice brought back his focus. His side smile gave you butterflies and you couldn't help but wear your own when he quipped; "Like you know how to dance to this?"

"Alright, Christopher. Get up." You grabbed the remote next to him and turned up the stereo even more. Hopefully, anyone living above or below the apartment wouldn't be able to hear how the bass shook the walls.

His grin widened at the name change. Almost nobody called him that anymore. There was a fine line between 'Chan' and 'Christopher', one that you seemed to be willing to cross.

What else were you willing to do?

Your hand was extended to him as you stood above him from his seat. The gleam in your eye was bright, almost playful. There was this weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. Bubbly and light. How the light casts around your silhouette made him realize why he felt the way he did when his eyes locked on you.

You were a goddess.

"You just gonna sit there? Come on, get up."

He didn't know what you said, but by the way, you grabbed onto his hand and pulled him from his seat, he knew he was in no position to argue.

You were a tough dance instructor. You corrected almost every misstep in Spanish. He couldn't comprehend your scolding, but he'll be damned to admit that at this point, he was doing it on purpose. There was something incredibly hot about being reprimanded in an unknown language.

"Dear all that is mighty," you sighed. "You're too stiff, loosen up a bit. Here, why don't you take the lead instead."

That caused his brain to malfunction a bit. He stuttered like a middle school kid being asked to dance for the first time. Without waiting for a reply, you grab his hands in yours and guide them on your body.  His hold on your waist was firm, but not too tough. He didn't want to scare you away. Not when he was so close to you he could smell your shampoo. Especially, not when you wrapped your arms around his neck and those eyes of yours were peering into his soul as you two stepped to the fast beat.

"Feel how my hips are moving?"

Oh, you bet he does.

Pushing those thoughts away, Chan tried to mimic your movement. "That's better!" You praised it, and it took everything in him not to press his body flush against yours right at that moment. He hated to admit it, but as the next song played, something with a slower tempo, every step you took with him around the living room, he somehow magically ended up closer to you.

This is the part where both of you could blame the alcohol.

You both were too inebriated to notice the fact that your phone was fully charged, that your fingers started to play with the bottom of his hair, or the fact that your faces were so close together. Chan's forehead rested on yours as the playlist finally died down to a softer ballad. YouTube ironically telling you two to slow down. But neither showing signs of listening.

"We...are going down a path you might regret." Chan closed his eyes to help steady his breathing. How were you able to do this earlier today? He felt like his heart was going to combust on the spot.

"That I might regret?" You whispered. Being this close to him felt surreal. You were sure you were about to wake up in your bed feeling very frustrated. "You won't?"

The feel of the pressure of your body was draining all his excitement from his chest to his dick. Another form of pressure was beginning to press against his underwear. A flood of penance sprung as quickly as his blood flowed to his quickening erection. "We just barely met. We don't know each other."

You pull away slightly so you can look up at him.

"Then, get to know me."

Chan knew this wasn't what you meant. But, it was too late to turn back now.

You were half-naked, a trail of clothes leading to his room.

For every question he asked, an article of your outfit was essentially ripped off you. Every question you answered, you returned the favor.

"Favorite food?" Whoops, there goes that necklace.

"Beef jerky with sticky rice." Goodbye, Chan's shirt!

He kissed you deeply and backed you up towards his bed. A brief pause as you fell into the soft cushions and he stared down at you. Your lips were puffy, chest rising and falling as you were trying to catch your breath. As much as he reveled in the thought of you being a goddess, there was something about bringing down a higher power that made him absolutely feral. Breaking you down bit by bit with every question. 

He climbed on the bed to hover over you, that stupid side smile making another appearance for the night. "That's not exactly a 'food', more of a meal."

"Sorry if I'm--ah. A bit distracted." You close your eyes as he attaches his lips right below your ear. Sucking on your soft skin, not hard enough to leave bruising, but a temporary mark just for his eyes. 

Biting your lower lip, you happily extended your neck a bit to give him more access. Mind all fuzzy and unable to think as he littered your neck with small kisses. Chan gripped your thigh and pulled it up a bit, lifting your hips just enough to hold you close to his pelvis,  kneading your thighs through your tights.

"Need you to focus." He nipped softly at your skin. "How else am I going to learn everything about you?

"Favorite position?" His fingers went under the hem of your tights and helped you shed the last outer part of your outfit. Once it was thrown somewhere across his room, you wrapped the leg he was holding up around his back and used what momentum you could gather to push his back on the bed. His hands instinctively grabbed onto your hips as you straddled him.

Your lips were soft and gentle as you leaned in for a kiss, the complete opposite of the intensity shared just moments before. "Don't care, so long as I'm full."

Chan wasted no time by stripping himself of his joggers and boxers on your behalf. Stifling a moan as best as he could once he felt your clothed core perfectly placed on his growing erection.  Guiding your hips to grind against him, he grinned as you threw your head back and sighed in content. Chan rocked his hips perfectly to the rhythm he set against you, providing the much-needed friction you craved.

You were starting to think he was tanking at dancing salsa on purpose.

"Anything off limits?" You couldn't even register that his hands snuck up to undo your bra clasp. He took a second to appreciate the view. Chan couldn’t stop himself from using his forearms to prop himself up to latch onto one of your nipples. Licking and sucking at anything he could grab. The mewls coming from your mouth sounded like a song he never wanted to end. Your hand caressed the back of his head, pressing him closer. 

“Just--mmm. Just don’t stop even if I say so.”

Leaving your breast with a wet ‘plop’, he stared up at you. You could see the usual gleam in his eyes disappear. They became dark, almost predatory. Chan lifted you off so he could be above you again. He traced your skin from the collarbone down to the hem of your underwear. You arched your back at his touch; “Luckily for you--I like begging.”

Your breath hitched. Surely, he could see the wet stain on your underwear by now.

“Any safe words then?”

Last question.

Chan finger slipped underneath the cloth and played with your folds. The way you squirmed underneath him made him want to ruin you more. The chuckle he let out when you tried to squeeze your thighs together made you feel warm all the way down to your core. Chan was quick to use his body to keep you nice and spread. All for him.

“L-lemon…”

“Sorry, couldn’t hear you.” Chan slipped the tip of his middle finger in you. “Could you speak up a bit?”

“Pendej--mmmphhh” You couldn’t finish your quip. Chan pushed in further until he was knuckle-deep. His lips hovered over yours as he slowly worked in and out of you. You kept arching and writhing as he continued his ministrations, mouth wide open as you let out silent moans.

“Ah, ah--I wanna hear you.” Once he added in a second finger, you couldn't contain yourself. Moans were spilling out of you like a pornstar. Even when he kissed you, there was nothing to stop the volume you were outputting. “Good job, baby.”

“Oh?” He chuckled as he felt your walls clamp down on him. “Did you like that?”

You couldn't speak as he kept pressing into you, wiggling his fingers against your walls. “C-chan…please…”

“Sorry, what was that?” He teased as he kissed around your collarbone.

“Chan…”

The bastard kept pretending not to hear you. As if he couldn't feel you practically leaking around his fingers and clenching around him like there was no tomorrow. 

You finally had enough.

Grabbing ahold of his face with one hand, you forced him to look at you. His cheeks smashed between your fingers. “Christopher, I swear to God--if you don't fuck me right now I'm taking over.”

Ah, so you did like to be in charge.

With a grin, he gladly ripped off your panties. He pulled away just a bit, taking in your appearance. Wanting to embed it into his brain for any future sessions he might have with himself later on.

He knew he should've grabbed a condom, but the alcohol was still flowing through him and he couldn’t stop himself as he slowly pushed into you. You tried finding words; how big he felt, how full he made you, but all that could come out were whimpers as he groaned and leaned in for another kiss to ease any pain you felt.

The two of you grind against one another. Chan never fully pulled out, keeping himself nice and snug in your warmth. Stretching you out, oh so sweetly.

Chan wasted no time in picking up his thrust as you tapped his shoulder, indicating that he was okay to move. You squeaked as he hooked your knees on his shoulders and leaned down to essentially bend you in half. He was hitting a spot you never felt before; not with previous boyfriends and definitely not with your own toys at home.

“So fucking tight…” Chan hissed as his pace sped up to the point he was jackhammering into you. His lips found their way back to your neck and kept mumbling about how you felt around him. So tight, so warm, just right. His teeth nipped your ear lobe, desperate to grab onto something but knowing he couldn’t mark you up too much. “Is this good, baby? Need it harder, faster?”

When you didn’t respond to him, he slowed down a bit and leaned back to stare down at you. His cock twitched when he realized what was happening.

You laid on the bed; eyes glazed over, mouth wide open, cheeks completely flushed. You knew he was asking you a question in Korean, but the words weren’t forming in your head like they usually do. “Aw,” Chan laughed. “Does it feel that good that you forgot Korean?”

Chan let up on the pressure so his hand can snake its way to your lips. You instantly latch on to his fingers and suck. Your tongue brushes around his tips, tasting the leftover residue of yourself from earlier. Your knees unhook from his shoulder and fall on either side of his waist. A whimper leaves you as he removes his fingers from your mouth and travels down to rub your clit. Still keeping his thrust with his brutal pace.

“Ahhh…wait…” You squirmed and your hand went to grab his wrist. Chan noticed how you didn’t pull his hand away despite your pleas. “Chan, p-please--too much.”

He kept using your body. Chan could feel you clamping down around his length. “Sorry,” he breathed out as he felt the pressure in his balls rising. “You’re just, hmmmph, too perfect.”

That’s what did it for you. The fact that he listened to what you mentioned earlier, and his talk. The crash of pleasure that overcame you was intense. Chan shuddered as he felt your wave around him. “Fuck, fuck fuck,” you came with a cry. Your arms wrapped around his neck, trying to ground yourself in any way that you could. You were loud. Nothing could stop the curses that flowed out of you as you held him close against you. Chan wasn’t far behind; “Oh, I-I’m gonna--”

He pulled out and stroked his cock rapidly around his head, painting your stomach with his warm cum. Of all the art museums he visited around the world--this was by far his favorite piece of work.

The room was filled with both of your heavy pants as he laid in your arms. Once he was able to catch his breath, Chan pulled away from your embrace placing the gentlest kiss on your lips. Humming as you kissed him back. He tried to get up, but you were quick to stop him.

“Don’t go…” You pouted. Part of you knew this would be a one-time thing, but another part never wanted this to end. Chan smiled down at you and gave your cheek a quick peck.

“I’m just grabbing a towel to clean you off.”

As he walked off to the bathroom you stared down at the mess on your abdomen. The remnants of the best sex of your life were starting to cake on your skin. It took everything in you to not scoop some up and taste him in your mouth. When Chan returned with a wet cloth, he cleaned you up before plopping onto the bed beside you.

Once you caught your breath, reality set in.

Here you were, all fucked out with a colleague in the same industry. Everything told you to leave. It wasn’t like the two of you were in a relationship. It was a rash decision based on a lot of alcohol and dancing. You started to get up, but Chan was quick to wrap his hand in yours.

“You…you don’t have to go…” Chan shifted to lay on his side and stared down to not meet your eyes. Acting all shy as if he didn’t fuck the lights out of you just moments before. Your heart melted at the sight.

Slinking back into bed, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest. His cheek pressed against the top of your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat against you and closed your eyes.

“You know,” you sighed. “This was something I definitely didn’t regret.”

“Me ‘neither.”

As the morning rolled around you woke up to Chan still wrapped around you. His soft snores made you smile. There was something surreal about seeing him so at peace that made your heart flutter. Placing a small kiss on his cheek, Chan shifted slightly and groaned as he stretched a bit.

“Mornin’,” He grumbled but held a smile as soon as his eyes landed on you. Chan wasted no time in pulling you into a kiss. His hands sneaking towards your ass to knead your flesh. His excitement is present against your thigh.

"Somebody's eager," You giggle as he pressed closer to you. Chan smirked as he gently rubbed his morning wood against you.

"You can say that."

"Unfortunately--"

Chan grumbled and hid his face in the crook of your neck. "No, don't say that."

"I was just going to say, that I need some water first." It was true. After all the drinks last night, your head was pounding like never before.

"Okay," Chan smiled and got up from bed to put a pair of boxers on. "Stay put, I'll grab you something to eat too."

Minutes passed as you waited in bed. Surprise overtook you as you heard a pan sizzling and the welcoming smell of home-cooking started to flood the dorm. Dawning one of his shirts, you made your way to the kitchen. Chan's back was to you as he manned the stove. You could see how his back rippled with every movement he made.

You couldn't see it, but a smile crept on Chan's face as he felt you wrap your arms around his midriff. "I thought I told you to stay put?"

"I'm not one for taking orders." You laugh as you hook your chin on his shoulder to peer over him. "Besides," Chan stiffened a bit as he felt your lips hover over his ear. "There's something sexy about a man cooking."

"Oh?" He quickly turned off the stove and turned around to face you. Your arms wrap around his neck as he leaned down closer to your face. "And what about your water?"

It was a frenzy of passion as your lips locked with his yet again. Both of you eager to relive last night in the light of sobriety. "Water can wait," you whisper in between kisses.

Chan easily lifted you, placing you on an open counter. Your legs spread to allow him access to be closer to you. The both of you started to mold into one another as the intensity grows. "I should cook for you more often," He grins as he breaks away from the kiss to catch his breath. He lifted his shirt on you slightly so your cunt was exposed.

"Promise?" You teased as he lowered himself down slightly to bring his lips level to your core. Chan enjoyed the way your head leaned back slightly as you felt his hot breath against you.

"Promise."

The both of you were so entranced with what was about to happen, that you didn't hear the door opening. Only the shrilly scream that bounced around the dorm broke you two apart.

You instantly jumped down from the counter as Chan stood upright, finding protection from behind him. Chan tried using his body to shield your half-naked body from the view of a very frightened Felix.

Not that he really needed too.

The younger member held both hands over his eyes. Groceries bags around him, spilling its contents around the floor.

"Felix?" Chan stuttered as he grabbed a kitchen rag to cover up his erection. "W-what are you doing here?"

Chan gestured for you to run back to the room as Felix was still covering his eyes. You had no hesitation, wanting to escape from the embarrassment. AKA your own personal hell.

"I didn't want you eating alone... I was gonna make breakfast."

Author's Note: Here it is! Please let me know what you think. I'm also open to requests, I really want to get back into writing and interacting more on here. If you'd like to be added to my taglist please interact with this post (linked). Bye~

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[berry-potchy]

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel O'Hara blurb because I'm obsessed

UPDATE: Part 2

I love the DBF!Miguel O'Hara scenarios that have you sneaking around and fucking while your family is around and unaware BUT consider:

DBF!Miguel O'Hara who offered to let you stay at his place when you moved out for college. You don't have to worry about rent or anything because he'll take care of everything. He'll take care of you.

It all seemed so good and innocent at the start. You even got to have the place to yourself most of the days because of his demanding job. Miguel said you can bring your friends over but no romantic partners or flings allowed. Not that you had anyone in that way when you're so busy yearning for Miguel. You've had a crush on him since forever and every time you tried to get into a relationship or have sex with anyone, anyone your age, your mind always compared them to Miguel. For the longest time you were hopelessly yearning, convinced that he'd never return your feelings until one night.

You were lying in bed trying to catch your breath after fucking your pussy raw with your vibrator thinking about how hot Miguel looked that morning in his nice suit, ready for an important business meeting he had. You were about to fall asleep when you felt the bed dip and suddenly Miguel was pulling you close to him, your back against his chest. Your bare ass still wet from your own slick, flushed against his erection and the only barrier that separated you was the same sexy suit you had been fantasizing about. He was so big, he felt bigger than how you imagined him and your cunt throbbed, seemingly ready to be used and abused again.

He kissed your neck, licking and sucking, marking you as his while murmuring how long he had been wanting to do this. He heard you moaning his name when you thought he was going to come home late and he immediately called in his office to tell them he's taking a sick leave. He's going to spend that time fucking you, on every surface in the house, making up for all those times you teased him in the mornings just walking around in an oversized shirt and no bra. You didn't even wear shorts around him, gave him a show of your cute ass, trying to reach mugs from the high kitchen shelves. He had to go shamefully jerk off in his car just so he didn't have to go to work with a very obvious boner. How'd he explain that to your dad when he inevitably bumped into him in the office? His precious little daughter living under the same roof as this pervert?

Hearing you moan his name while you fucked your slutty cunt was the last straw, all his self restraint went out the window. He took your vibrator from your hand and let it overstimulate your swollen clit but immediately take it away when he feels you almost going over the edge. You whine and beg him to let you cum but he just laughs. He promised you'll cum plenty of times, more than you can handle.

Of course he eats your pretty pussy out and fuck you all night in so many different ways, in positions you never even heard of. Your pussy was swollen and oversensitive, and you're pretty sure your cervix is deliciously bruised. Miguel kisses your pussy as an apology but gets distracted and tongue fucks you and makes you cum again.

You slowed down some time in the morning. Miguel made you breakfast but soon enough you found yourself bent over the kitchen counter getting railed again. You don't know how this man had that much stamina at his age. You were getting close to cumming when you heard your phone ring. Your dad was calling you. You helplessly looked back at Miguel, expecting him to stop so you can pick up the call but he didn't stop and clicked the answer button for you. Your dad happily greets you over the phone wondering how you're doing and you tried to keep your voice steady and told him everything's good and uni was going great. Miguel leaned over, pressing his chest on your back and driving his cock deeper and harder into you. It took everything in you not to cry in pleasure and you wondered if your dad can hear the erotic sounds of Miguel's cock abusing your sopping wet hole and his balls slapping your aching clit.

Your dad told you he heard Miguel was taking a sick leave which he has never done befor. He was convinced that he must be really sick for that workaholic to finally take a break so he asked you to take care of his best friend for him. You told him not to worry because you were taking really good care of him.

[ghouldump]

hi your fics are so amazing!!

if you’re open to requests, i was wondering if you could write a lestat x louis x reader fic that takes place during their huge fight in the townhouse? i can imagine the reader being a mother figure to claudia and trying to protect her during it and getting hurt in the process of trying to break up louis and lestat. i’d love to see how the reader deals with the aftermath of her and louis’ injuries as well as claudia taking care of the two of them.

sorry if its confusing😭 i thought of this while rewatching s1

For The Love Of A Daughter | Lestat x Reader x Louis

ෆ out of fear, lestat does the unimaginable and has to try his hardest to win his family's trust back, but it may be too late

the comparison of s1 vs s2 of this scene had me on the edge of my seat 🥺 ⚠️ THIS IS S1 E5 ‼️

How did your once beautiful family go to ruins? When Claudia was created? When she rebelled? Or when she left? Your daughter, you would go to hell and back for her, yet, you couldn't convince her to stay.

Lestat was cruelly strict with her, invading her privacy by reading her diaries, not considering the fact that she was trapped in the early stages of puberty for an eternity. She couldn't help that she was a young girl stuck in this body, and he never let her forget or made it easier on her.

Louis, he'd always been passive, about your companionship, as well as his role as a parent. He wanted to keep the peace and harmony. If that meant allowing Lestat to discipline her, then he’d turn his head to not have to watch out of guilt.

Then you, Lestat often complained that you spoiled her too much. You never raised a finger to her, nor your voice. You hadn't been brought up that way, and so you did the same with her. You still remember the night she left. Packing only a few things, while you and Louis tried convincing her to stay. Standing her ground, she gave you both a hug, letting the wind carry her away.

Seven years flew by, silence made its way into the house that no longer felt like a home. Louis nose-deep in book after book, Lestat leaving going god knows where, while you remained secluded, drawing, reading, and sometimes staring at the wall.

Tonight was a rarity, Lestat wasn't running off, and Louis sat on the sofa, reading, while you sat in a chair, your head lying on your arm, taking in the soft jazz music.

Hearing the door open, Claudia entered, setting her suitcase on the floor. Rushing over, you wrapped your arms around her, rocking back and forth. Pulling away, your heart broke as Louis hugged her tightly. He too had been taking it so hard, since she had been gone. Abruptly, the music stopped, Lestat glaring at her.

“The prodigal daughter”

“I've come to apologize, I put all of you in a bad spot, I wasn't right in my head. I am now,” she said. You couldn't put your finger on it, but there was something different about her, a certain brokenness, she was trying to shut away.

“Apology not accepted,” Lestat said.

“How was college? Magna cum? Summa cum? Phi Beta Kappa?” he continued.

“I've read a lot of books. Started with Persia and Babylon, the old gods who longed for blood. A lot of it was popcorn, but a few old tomes. A Romanian tract on vampirs. A strange old Hungarian text, ‘Masticatione Mortuorum,’ the chewing dead. I plan to leave for that part of the world as soon as I can,” she told him. You and Louis shared a look, sensing that this wasn't headed in a positive direction.

“So, quick stop home to do laundry before you fuck off for good,” Lestat spat.

“A quick stop to pick up my mama and Louis,” she told him. Your hand went to your stomach, trying to control the unsettling nervousness building up. Lestat glanced at the two of you, before glaring at her in disgust.

“Oh, Perused a few folklore anthologies, and now you're going to cross the ocean and take on a society of monsters,” he said, slowly making his way towards her.

“If what I've read is lies, then tell me what's true,” she told him, but he only continued to stare at her as if she was beneath him.

“Seven years and what’s changed, other than you need a housekeeper?” she sneered. He slowly approached her, and as you were about to step forward to intervene, Louis grabbed your hand, discreetly shaking his head.

“The vampires out there…are vicious. Oh, but you've learned that already. Who did you meet out there in the American hinterland? Read her,” Lestat looked at the two of you, walking away. Staring at her, you quickly wiped the tear from your eye, you couldn't imagine what she had been through all on her own.

“That’s it, keep 'em scared. That's his way,” she said to you both.

“The vampires in Europe are much, much worse”

“But I think he's scared,” she spoke over him.

“I never asked, how did Charlie taste? Like the love you'll never really know,” he said, trying to get under her skin.

“And when he's scared, he ridicules”

“She was a destitute little girl, destined to live an inconsequential little life,” he said, approaching the both of you.

“And we took it from her, we cursed her,” Louis said, making the smug expression drop from his face. Looking at you, his frown deepened, seeing you gaze at her, the bloody tears moments from seeping out.

“Come with me!” she called out, both of you staring at her.

“Come with me, mama, Louis”

“Louis, Y/n,” Lestat said, becoming angry as neither of you looked at him.

“I thought I could live without either of you, but I was wrong,” Claudia said, her eyes pleading for you to come along.

“Y/n, Louis”

“Louis, Y/n,” Lestat continued, raising his voice.

“His love is a small box he keeps you both in, don't stay in it,” she said, as you glanced at him.

“A thousand nights of sulking, and the first sight of her, you are just gonna up and leave me?!” Lestat yelled.

“Please, come with me! Let’s be vampires worth of your love!” Claudia screamed before Lestat surged, choking her.

“Get off of her,” you said, going to shove him off of her. However, he was much stronger, gaining the upper hand, his fingers wrapping around your throat, he looked unrecognizable.

“You, always choosing her,” he spat, before Louis charged over, tackling him.

As they fought, Claudia screamed, panicking, as you tried to keep up with them. Throwing Louis in the living room. Lestat straddled him, punching him in the face.

“Lestat, stop it,” you cried out, jumping on his back, but he easily slung you across the room, as you smashed into the wall, you could feel your arm already broken.

“Claudia, stay down here,” you told her, rushing to the bedroom.

“Stop fighting,” you screamed, as they continued tackling each other.

“Let him go,” you hear Claudia crying.

“It’s alright, you stay where you're at,” Louis told her, as if he wasn't completely bruised up.

“You're going to choose her too? Leave me for her when she left you both, I’ve been here,” he told you, as you slowly backed away, unsure of what he'd do next.

“Lestat st-

“Do not tell me what to do,” he told you, wrapping his hand around your throat, and pulling you close. His nails were in your skin, with your airway completely blocked.

Dragging both of you downstairs, and outside, you could hear Claudia running.

“I fought myself a million times, fought my nature, controlled my temper. I never once harmed either of you,” he said.

“Let him go,” you cried, hoarsely, trying to claw at his hand, while reaching for Louis.

“Silence,” he told you.

“Uncle Les”

“It's Uncle Les, now suddenly?”

“Let them go, they didn't do nothin’, let them go, it's me you want,” you could hear her steps approaching.

“Listen to me, and listen very carefully my infant death, it was never you. No matter how much your mama made you think otherwise,” he spat, crushing your throat, and dragging you both out into the road.

“I chose you, and you, given you the dark gift and you've betrayed me,” he said, biting into your neck, draining almost every ounce of blood from your body, before throwing you, watching as you flew into the backyard, colliding with bricks, you could feel your rib cage shatter.

However, as you stood up, you quickly fell to your knees in pain and fear for Louis’s life, watching as they flew into the sky to the point where they were no longer seen.

“Mama, are you alright?” Claudia ran to you, reaching for her hand, your other hand on your throat. You couldn't speak, Lestat’s nails had managed to pierce through. Claudia gasped, as you coughed, blood spilling out.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“I’m okay, we just need to get Louis,” she said, helping you stand, however, just as you stood, Louis fell from the sky, hitting the ground. Limping over, you were afraid to touch him, the slightest touch looked as if it would break him even more.

Crying, you looked up, staring into Lestat’s eyes as he flew over you all, not saying a word. You couldn't say it, but from your expression, there was no way you could easily forgive him after this.

Healing was a struggle, not just from the physical damage, but any previous trust was gone. While you managed to bounce back within a few months, Louis had a long way to go. Lestat skipped town and hadn't bothered to show his face.

You avoided thinking about him, altogether. Dedicating yourself to Claudia and Louis, from coffin-bound to limping, every day was progress. Louis was slowly getting better and you both worked on strengthing your bond with Claudia. Then the calls started coming.

All of this time, you managed to push through the soreness and pain, but the moment he called you hid away, licking your eternal wounds. He was a completely different person that night, the things he said, the things he'd done. After Louis fully healed, you were no longer opposed to the idea of leaving for Europe with Claudia.

Hearing the doorbell ringing, you turned your head, watching as Claudia went outside. You could hear his voice, he had gifts, and he wanted to talk, to apologize. Louis went upstairs, throwing his coffin out of the window, you couldn't help but snicker.

“There’s your answer”

“And where is Y/n? I know she would enjoy these paints, they are rare. I paid quite a price because I knew she would make the most beautiful-

“My mama ain't got nothin’ to say to you, like you said, she betrayed you, choosing me,” she told him, shutting the door, and locking it.

Coming back to the living room, she glanced your way before to Louis, who came from upstairs. As Louis sat next to you, you pulled him close.

“You okay?” you asked him.

“Getting there,” he mumbled, smiling as you kissed his cheek.

Lestat didn't show his face anymore, but the gifts never stopped. Each time more spontaneous than the next, and while you knew, Louis was becoming weaker, you wished you could say the same for yourself.

“Emily Dickinson is not a vampire,” Louis said, as you laughed.

“How do you know?” she asked.

“Because she is dead,” you pointed out.

“How do you know?”

“She got a grave,” Louis said.

“And a tombstone,” you added.

“So do you,” She told Louis, all of you laughing, afterward.

As you crossed the streets, the driver honked their horn, as they slowly came to a stop in front of you. Opening the door, Lestat climbed out, smiling at you all. Rolling your eyes, you simply looked the other way.

“25 horsepower Rolls-Royce six-cylinder engine and a front end they call a coffin nose, is that rich? This one’s yours, mine’s back at home in blue,” he said, showing off the new car, and tossing the keys to Louis.

“I know how much you despise driving, so I got you other things, the finest fabrics, books, art supplies, and music, waiting for you at home, I'm back in town permanently,” he continued, looking your way, but you just stared off to the side, as if you didn't see him.

“Were you gone?” Claudia asked him.

“Across the river, in Algiers,” he said, you could still feel his eyes on the two of you.

“You know who lives in Algiers” Claudia said to you, as you clenched your jaw.

“I don't know what possessed me that night,” he said.

“Three years ago, that night, three years ago, he means,” Claudia corrected him.

“I was someone I don't want to be anymore. I've changed. Let me prove it to you. I’m nothing without you. I’m nothing without any of you”

“If you want me to go away, just say so. I’ll obey you. I’ll leave your lives forever. This silence is cruel, all I ask is that Y/n looks at me. You haven't spared me a glance since I've been here. Neither of you were ever cruel, don't let our situation change you,” he said.

“Just look at him,” Louis pleaded.

Turning to face him, he cleared his throat, straightening his posture. You didn't say anything, emotionlessly staring at him.

“You look stunning as always, ma chérie,” he complimented, his heart breaking as you looked away again.

Taking the keys, Claudia threw them, before scratching the car, reaching for your hand, walking away.

Six years, came and went, and more gifts flooded the house. It was unspoken between you and Louis that you both missed him. Although it looked different, Louis wanted him to come running back, each extravagant, but sentimental gift was tugging more and more at Louis’s heart. You preferred the distance, reminiscing on the past, before that night. You didn't think you could have that back, now, you secretly enjoyed every time he saw you, or wrote to you, begging that you would acknowledge him.

Unexpectedly, it happened, the record came in the mail and was immediately played. The song meant to win you both back while pissing you off, a song sung by his affair partner. Louis was seething, grabbing the record, and ran out of the house.

“You're not going with him?” Claudia asked.

“They will be back,” you mumbled, knowing his plan worked, he got through to Louis and would be coming back.

“Rule number four-

“Kill Antoinette”

“Antoinette is my own private-

“Affair,” Claudia said.

“Said child, interfering in the romantic lives of her parents,” Lestat said, wanting one of you to stop her. She had been sharp with him since the moment he stepped into the house.

“She will be 33 soon, far from a child,” you reminded him, rolling your eyes.

“It’s a lick and a promise in vampire years,” he shrugged.

“Maybe, but I am not your child anymore, that's rule number five,” Claudia said, catching his attention.

His eyes shifted from her to you, your interlocked hands. She had you, wrapped around her fingers, taken from him. Louis was more willing to work on the broken relationship, but you had shut him out, choosing your child.

“I’ll be your companion, your sister,” she told him, as he scoffed.

“It's not as simple as choosing a new family configuration, now I'm your cousin, now I'm your aunt, I am your maker,” he told her rudely.

“I’m going to bed,” you said, standing abruptly, he looked into your cold eyes, searching for any emotion.

“Will you not lay down your rules, as well?” he asked, sarcastically.

“Good night,” was all you said, turning away, going upstairs.

“She needs time,” you could hear Louis say.

Did you need more time? You didn't go through nearly as much as Louis and he managed to forgive him, why couldn't you? You were never maternal until Claudia came along, perhaps it came with being a mother. The way that he treated her, turned you against him. As much as you loved him, thinking back to the times you were spoiled, lavished as if you were royalty, you couldn't bring yourself to open up.

Hunting became insufferable. Louis began drinking human blood, it was supposed to bring everyone closer, hunting as a family, but you kept your distance. He knew he'd wounded you, his choice of words hurting you just as bad, and he'd have to be more persistent to win you back.

“I wished you’d look at me, the simplest glance would help me a great deal,” he said, following you, sighing in relief as you faced him.

“Happy?”

“You have my heart at your will, your precious words command me, and I would do anything you ask of me,” he said, trying to fight the tears, as you slowly approached him.

“Take up your heart, I wouldn't want you to feel betrayed when I don't choose you,” you said, turning around, leaving him to stand there and try to gather his emotions.

“Could you at least try to compromise?” Louis asked you, as you looked through the different fabrics in the store.

“I am-

“No, you're not, you put your coffin in Claudia’s room, and the other night, whatever you said, he cried himself to sleep”

“Aw, poor baby,” you said, placing the fabrics into Louis’ arms.

“You agreed that we would work things out, everybody is compromising trying to work through our problems, we need you too,” he said, pouting, as you approached the cash register.

“Fine, I hate when you give me that look,” you playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“Thank you, I love you,” you grinned.

“I love you,” you laughed, pecking his lips.

Later that night, after putting away your things, and changing into your nightgown, you were about to into Claudia’s room, when you stopped. Huffing, you went to your shared bedroom, opening the door.

“Did she say anything? I left a note, but she never responds,” Lestat grumbled.

“I talked with her, but it is up to her to make a decision,” Louis said.

“I hope you don't expect us to squeeze that coffin,” you said, making both of them face you.

“We could always sleep in the bed,” Louis offered, both of them approaching you.

‘Thank you’ he said, as you faced Lestat.

“Will you keep that stupid look on your face, or will you speak?” you asked.

“I didn't know it was okay for me to do so,” he chuckled.

“Y/n is willing to compromise, she hasn't said it verbally, but she does still love you,” Louis spoke, as you stared at the two of them.

“Ma chérie, if I could take back what I've said, what I’ve done-

“But you can't”

“I can't, and I will have to live with the burden of knowing I hurt you and Louis both, your role in Claudia’s life was never a problem, I am sorry, my love,” he said, walking to you, falling to his knees in front of you. His head laid against your stomach, and he continued to apologize profusely.

“To have you look at me, after months of refusal, even if it is a look of anger, is to see heaven,” he said, looking up at you. Reaching for his hand, you helped him stand, pecking his lips. Holding your hand out for Louis, as soon as he was close enough, your lips were on his soft skin.

Pushing Lestat onto the bed, you straddled his lap, rolling your hips, as Louis stood behind you, kissing your neck. Leaning down, you wrapped your hands around his neck.

“I’ll forgive you, but if you ever do anything remotely similar, I’ll make sure you burn in the sun, and I’ll wear you as makeup,” you said, making him smirk.

“Anything you say, although the thought of me being on your face, arouses me greatly,” he said, watching as you pulled Louis onto the bed, moving over to him.

Your nearly decade-long monogamy had now come to an end, sharing the night with Louis and Lestat. You had forgotten how spontaneous he was, managing to pleasure both of you.

‘Have you taken him back, like Louis?’ Claudia asked.

‘For now’ you thought, as Lestat kissed along your shoulder blade.

‘Do you think Louis will help?’

‘He will’

‘Do you think it will work?’

‘I don't know, my child, but we will try’

‘We can do it, mama, he wants to keep you and Louis for himself, he hates me and would probably kill me if it meant having you both alone’

‘I know’

Now lying in bed, Lestat in between you and Louis, both of you in his arms.

“I hope you will allow me to continue to prove myself to you, and I am lost without either of you, I feel empty without you both here with me, I love you,” he spoke, you couldn't deny the way your heart fluttered.

“Then it is official, we will kill Lestat’

‘And if our plan doesn't work?’

‘Then we escape to Europe, we find other vampires, and we rebuild our lives there, does that sound okay?”

‘It sounds perfect’

‘Great, good night mama’

‘Good night, my child’

Looking up at Lestat’s face, he lay peacefully, his eyes shut, face relaxed. He was incredibly handsome, you didn't dare tell Claudia but coming to this room, you were just as weak as Louis. Would you be able to kill this beautiful man, the love of your life? Or run away and live an eternity with your daughter? You couldn't decide anymore, only time would tell.

brotha eughhh, this was so mid

[hargreeves-duncan]

Can I request five x reader (takes place in s2) where reader (five’s partner) gets sent to Dallas around a year before five comes and after he does and reader sees him, she immediately tackles him on the spot and gives him many kisses. Maybe reader manages to work at a casino too

a/n: hi, thank you so much for your request! i haven’t written in a while so i'd love to hear your thoughts, enjoy!!

summary: it's been far too long since you've seen your boyfriend - he learns that the affectionate way.

warnings: reader works at a casino but there’s no actual gambling so🤷‍♀️

word count: 1.4k

You had to hand it to yourself, for someone who’d known next to nothing about life in the 1960s, you’d adapted pretty well. In no time at all, you’d managed to land yourself a job as a waitress in a casino. A very good one. It seemed in this timeline, Jack Ruby thought a casino would be a better investment than a night club - and for your part, you couldn’t say that he was wrong, nor could you complain.

The hours were long, but the pay was good enough and the other girls had taken you in as one of their own. You quickly began to excel. Strolling between the tables and flashing smiles was easy, second nature even. You developed the wit and charisma to charm the casino’s patrons without second thought, which meant you got more drinks served, more loyal customers and bigger tips to go along with them. 

Most nights the new life you’d built for yourself was more than enough but sometimes, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t help but yearn for what had come before - who had come before.

There was always a dull ache in your chest whenever you caught a fleeting glimpse of a lone, brown-haired man at one of the tables. In those moments, you could never stop yourself from believing for a slither of a second that Five had made it and he’d come right back to you.

You’d waited for him in that dingy, old alley for two weeks straight, because you knew that Five would never abandon his family like that. That something must’ve gone wrong, but it was okay because he’d come back and everything would be fine. That was what you told yourself. You were so sure he’d show up and solve everything in an instant, because that was what he always did. And when he hadn’t, it had almost destroyed you.

The first few months were gruelling, taking your first steps in the new world had taken a while. Grieving Five had taken longer. The obvious truth was staring you in the face. A year without contact from him or any of the other Hargreeves siblings? The probability was that you were the only one who had survived.

It was a truth that you were reluctant to admit, even now. One that led you to where you are today, starting yet another night shift, beside the casino’s bar, to serve a particularly rowdy Friday night crowd of patrons.

As you begin to set up, Mary-Anne, one of the other waitresses on shift, sidles up to you. Her honey-blonde curls bouncing around her ears as she leans against the bar. Trying to stifle her laugh, in her southern drawl, she says, “Has he tried talking to you yet?”

You raise an eyebrow at her, tilting your head to the side, “Has who tried talking to me yet?”

Her grin grows wider as she gestures to a table on the far corner of the room, laughing, “That little boy. Haven’t I said a million times that we oughta get tighter on the security in this place?”

She sighs, resting her hands on her hips, “I went over to him - trying to tell him that we don’t allow minors in here - and what’d he do?”

Deciding to humour her, you smile, looking down at her, “I’ve got no idea, tell me.”

She scoffs, shaking her head as she smiles, “He told me that he more than knew his way around place a place like this and that I had nothing to worry about with him. Can you imagine having the nerve like that at his age?”

The thought made you laugh. It reminded you of Five. His haggard temper in the body of his younger self always seemed to shock people in the very same way. You paused. It couldn’t be him, couldn’t it? You must be jumping to conclusions. After all this time, it’d make no sense if he was here now and yet…

“He said that?” You ask, eyebrows furrowing as you glance between the table and Mary-Anne. You squint, trying to see if you could recognise him.

A part of you felt silly and girlish for still holding out hope but this kid’s description was just too similar and besides, you were a teenager again, you were allowed to be lovesick and entirely delusional. It was practically your god-given right.

Mary-Anne nodded, loading her tray up with drinks of all shapes and sizes to cover her half of the room, “He did.”

Your eyes were locked onto the distant table, practically pleading for the kid to just turn around and let your hopes down already. Still, all that greeted you was the back of his head and the green fuzz of the poker table in front of him.

When you didn’t tear your eyes away, Mary-Anne looked you up and down, her baby blue eyes swimming with concern, “You alright there?”

Looking back at her, you sigh, already pent up at the possibility of Five being so close, “Yeah, I just… What did he look like?” You ask tentatively, biting your rouge-tinted, bottom lip between your teeth.

Mary-Anne hums in thought as she loads your tray for you, “Gosh, I don’t know - he had dark hair, was wearing a suit. It had the funniest, little emblem on it.” She says, tapping her chest in place of where it would’ve been.

Your eyes widen in shock and excitement as you process her words, “An umbrella! It was an umbrella, wasn’t it?”

Mary-Anne grins, giggling, “It was… how’d you know that?”

You couldn’t even answer her. You were already starting to tremble and hyperventilate, entirely overcome with nerves and joy and pure, unbridled excitement all at once. A year of being apart and now he was no more than a few strides away. Your smile brightens up like no other.

You slip your tray from over your head and place it down on the bar as you say, “Hey, cover for me, would you? I’ll be two seconds.”

Without waiting for her answer, you dash across the room - a flurry of giddiness bubbling up inside of you the closer you get. You tousle your hair and straighten your uniform, anything to keep your anxious fingers busy and to better yourself for something you’ve waited for for far too long.

Hearing heels coming towards him again, Five sighs in frustration and turns around in his chair, “Lady, I already told you-“

The breath feels like it’s been stolen from your throat as he turns to face you. It’s really, truly him. Your boyfriend is right there in front of you and you’ve never felt more relief than in this moment.

“Y/N.”

You’re not sure if you want to cry or scream or simply just take him in for the first time all over again. As you look over him, his piercing gaze, his dark hair and the freckle on his right cheek that you can’t count the number of times you’ve kissed, your eyes can’t help but be drawn to his lips.

God, how you’ve missed the feeling of them. You barely have time to think about what you’re doing before you’re cupping his face and pressing your lips against his once more, savouring every part of him in a way you’d never thought to before.

Your hands trail over every callous in his skin, memorising him with your fingertips, and as you pull back, Five’s gaze softens like nothing else as he smirks, “Hello, you.”

His hands reach out to cup your face, gazing over you as if he’s not entirely sure that you’re real. After all your time apart, you’re not sure either. You smile, nodding, “It’s me. It’s you. You’re here, you’re really here!”

You cup his face in return and you can’t help but press another kiss to his lips. He smiles fondly as you do. And so you kiss him again… and again on his cheek… and on his freckle… his chin… his forehead. Everywhere your lips can reach, you press them.

After a moment, he laughs weakly and reaches up to pull your hands away from his face and intertwines them with his own fingers instead, “Okay, love.” He says chasteningly, “Let’s calm down there, shall we?”

Your smile grows shyer as you right yourself, “Sorry.” You say, brushing your hair away from your face.

He shakes his head, brushing your hair back for you and then guiding you by the waist to the seat beside him, “No, don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry. Believe me, I’m just as happy to see you. Really.”

It’s him who initiates the kiss this time. He’s soft, delicate almost, in the way that he kisses you, as if each movement of his lips is a new way of giving all of his love to you and promising that he won’t ever let you out of his sights again.

[coldfanbou]

Hot Bodies on a Cold Day

Jihyo gets a little wild on her vacation. I could've written a Hawaii-based fic because, my god, those photos were something else, but I liked this idea a lot. A little late but Happy Jihyo Day!

Length 2.2K

Jihyo X Mreader

Jihyo craned her neck, groaning as her muscles relaxed. The heavy steam from the water covered her, giving her all the privacy she could ever want. “Sana was right,” she said to herself. The Japanese woman had harped on about outdoor onsens being the best in winter. A smile crept onto Jihyo’s face as she sunk deeper into the water. Her head above the water line, Jihyo let out a long moan, enjoying the little trip her members had planned for her. She shut her eyes, leaning back against the wall. Tensing her body before letting her muscles relax, Jihyo felt good. One hand snaked its way down her smooth stomach, stopping just above her slit. Jihyo pursed her lips before a sly smile appeared as she considered touching herself. No one was around; no one would know. Now was the time for her to be bold, Jihyo thought to herself. She deserved it after her hard work. She moved her hand lower, grazing her clit with her middle finger. A low exhale flowed between Jihyo’s lips. She slowly moved her fingers around her clit, teasing it as her other hand reached for her breast, grabbing the large mound. Jihyo cooed, laying her head back against the rocks as she pushed two fingers into her cunt. 

She curled them, rubbing them against her g-spot before pulling them out, dragging them against her walls. “Oh shit,” Jihyo groaned, pushing her fingers back inside. She felt so naughty, touching herself in a place where someone could easily walk in. The hotel might’ve been practically empty, but the chance remained. Jihyo’s moans continued, creeping in intensity as she played with her body, tugging at her hard nipples and pumping her fingers deeper into her slit. Small waves spread across the pool as Jihyo tuned out the world around her and continued masturbating.

You walked into the bathing room, just outside the onsen, needing to wash yourself off before entering the open-air hot spring. You washed yourself quickly, excited to experience the spring when it was so cold outside. Once you turned off the water, you heard a sound you didn’t expect. It came as quickly as it went, but you kept quiet, hoping to listen to it again to ensure you didn’t make it up. You heard it again, the same as the first time. You move toward the sound, opening the sliding door and stepping out. The sound was as clear as day; they were moans. You felt awkward listening to the sounds of a woman pleasing herself, but something kept you rooted in place. You take in a deep breath before speaking out, “Hello?” You ask. The moans stop quickly, and a silence comes over the hot springs. 

On the other side of the steam, Jihyo stopped her actions, pulling her fingers out of herself and breathing heavily. She was so close to cumming; her fingers grazed her clit as she pulled her hands away from her slit. Jihyo rubbed her legs together slowly; she wanted to cum. Pushing herself off the back wall, Jihyo moves through the steam. Her head pokes through the steam first, and you catch sight of the beautiful woman coming to the bath’s edge. Her cheeks were flush as she put on her best smile. Thoughts flood your head about the beautiful woman being the one masturbating in the hot spring. You can imagine what she must’ve been doing. A giggle from the beautiful woman brings you out of your thoughts. 

Jihyo was smiling because she could see how hard she had made you. She snaked one of her hands down to her slit, moving her fingers in slow circular motions as she licked her lips. “Come on in; the water will help you relax, and I can too,” Jihyo said with a wink. You gulp at the offer and step into the hot water. Jihyo smiles and beckons you closer as she swims back to the far edge. You follow her, meeting her again at the pool’s edge. Getting a closer look at her body, you become harder. The cold winter air hits her chest, and you watch her nipples harden. She takes a step closer to you, her hand moving under the water, stopping when she wraps it around your shaft. Jihyo's breathing quickens as her hand moves along your shaft slowly. She takes another step closer to you as you groan. “You’re so hard,” her voice is just above a whisper as she strokes your cock, the water around you making small waves. Running her hand along your length made Jihyo’s lust grow stronger. Silently, she moved to the pool’s edge, climbing onto the seats. 

You bend Jihyo over the edge of the hot spring; her tits are pressed against the cold stones that surround the hot spring. She kicked her feet gently, excited at the thought of your cock inside her. She already had one of her hands rubbing her cunt as she waited for you. Jihyo smirked as she felt your cock rub against her slit; her legs were almost shaking with anticipation. You push into her warm folds, her walls wrapping around you, squeezing you as you go deeper. Jihyo cried out, feeling your cock stretching her tiny cunt; she only added to her pleasure as her fingers moved over her clit faster. “Fuck! You’re so big!” Jihyo moaned, feeling your cock press against her womb. 

You began pulling out of the young woman, her walls trying to pull you back in. You left only the tip inside her before ramming your length back inside. Jihyo’s body jiggled as you slammed yourself inside; she loudly moaned as your cock stuffed her. You moved your hands onto Jihyo’s waist as you began to speed began to pick up. Every thrust made Jihyo’s body bounce forward, dragging her already hard nipples against the stone floor. Moans flowed endlessly from her lips as you drove your cock deep into her. Jihyo was getting close to her climax, her walls tightening around you, her moans getting louder. Jihyo could feel the explosion coming, the tightness in her core about to blow. “Fuck, I’m going to cum!” She cried out, her hand furiously rubbing her clit. “I’m cumming!” She screams out as you slam your cock back into her. Jihyo’s explodes on your cock, her body shaking as she climaxes. You keep thrusting, though, her tight cunt feeling too good to stop.

You bring your hand down on Jihyo’s ass, the stinging pain turning into pleasure. Jihyo was losing her mind; her body was craving more. “Harder! Fuck me harder!” You slapped her ass again before doing the same to the other cheek. Jihyo growled as you fueled her desires. Every thrust into her wet cunt pushed her closer to another orgasm. She could feel your thrusts becoming rougher, your cock smashing into her fertile womb. When your cock began to throb, her moans got louder. Jihyo pushed her ass against back against you. 

“I’m going to cum,” You grunt through gritted teeth.

Under normal circumstances, Jihyo would’ve told any man to pull out, but she didn’t want that right now. She wanted to feel your cum inside her. “Shoot it inside me! Fill me!” Jihyo cried out. 

There was nothing more you wanted at this moment. You dug your hands into Jihyo’s soft flesh and buried yourself inside, flooding Jihyo’s fertile womb with your cum. Jihyo felt the hot, sticky substance fill her body, the warmth spreading from her core to the rest of her body. She was in heaven; her mouth hung open with a smile, her tongue sticking out as you kept yourself pressed against her slit.

You reveled in the feeling of cumming inside Jihyo’s cunt. You were still hard, though. You lifted Jihyo’s body out of the hot spring and laid her on the rocky ground. Jihyo breathed heavily as you took hold of her legs. “That’s it, keep going,” she cooed. You paired her legs together and folded Jihyo in half before pushing your cock back inside the idol. “Mmm, yes,” she moaned as you began to thrust into her again. Her back pressing into the rocky ground didn’t bother her; the cold didn’t bother her. Jihyo was solely focused on the way your cock was stretching her and fucking her senseless. You were losing control as you continued thrusting, Jihyo’s legs spread apart as you thrust wildly. Jihyo’s constant moans fueled you, however. Every thrust into Jihyo’s cunt caused more of your seed to spill out. You didn’t care, though; you would fill Jihyo up again. 

You lean down, capturing Jihyo’s lips and groping her tits. Jihyo warmly accepted your touch, wrapping her arms and legs around you to keep you close. “Fucking cum inside me. I want you to cum inside me again.” Jihyo grunted as your cock continued to pound her sore cunt. You already knew you were going to, and Jihyo’s continued begging made you more excited about it. You squeezed Jihyo’s tits roughly, enjoying the soft mounds to the fullest while you kissed her. You felt Jihyo’s legs tighten around you, her moans growing louder, like before. On the verge of another orgasm, you sped up your thrusts. Jihyo felt your cock throbbing inside her and used her legs to push you in deeper. She held you tightly as you came together, your cum spewing inside her already ruined cunt. “That’s it, cum inside me,” Jihyo said breathlessly. She pulled you into a kiss, rocking her hips as she drained you of your second load. 

“Can you go again? I want one more, please, just one more.” Jihyo was already tired, but her body was craving another creampie; it wanted to be filled with cum, and her mind could not resist. You couldn’t either. 

You nod to Jihyo’s question and move onto your back. “Ride me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” Jihyo climbs over you, grabbing your cock and rubbing it against her entrance before slamming herself down on it. Jihyo lifts herself slowly, letting more of your length outside her body before dropping back down on your cock. As Jihyo begins to get into a rhythm, you watch her heavy breasts bounce. You reach up, grabbing one of her mounds and squeezing it. Jihyo smiles as your hands run along her body. “I need this cock,” Jihyo mumbles as she leans over you, her tits swinging as she slams herself down on you. You lean up and kiss Jihyo, running your hands across her ass before spanking one of her cheeks. “I want you to cum inside me, breed me. Breed this little pussy.” Jihyo mumbles, her legs growing weak. 

You pull away from the kiss and take in the sight before you. The beautiful woman riding your cock was sweaty, steam coming off her body because of the cold weather. You grab Jihyo’s waist and help her move along your cock. “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, I’m cumming!” Jihyo cries out, collapsing on top of you, your cock impaling her. You hold Jihyo against you as you cum inside her, filling her cunt with your semen, flooding her womb. You keep your hand on her lower back as her walls milk you. The two of you continue your escapades, moving from the hot spring to your hotel room.

The following morning, Jihyo was the first to wake up. She was on her stomach, her body sore and tired. She looked around, wondering where she was, when she saw your sleeping form beside her. She tried to cover herself only to realize there was something wet between her legs. It was cum. Jihyo grew more and more confused at the situation. She headed to your bathroom and grabbed a towel before leaving for her room. She washed herself, wondering what had come over her the night before. As she remembered the night before, she felt her body getting hot. It was sort of magical. She bit her lip as she considered going back to the hot spring. Jihyo had a few more days at the hotel, and it was a vacation for her to relax. A small smile appeared on her face as she made her decision.

Back in Korea, the members giggled to themselves. “Do you think she’s having a good time?” Nayeon asked. “Do you think she looked into it before she got there?”

“I don’t think so. She was so excited that it was a free trip she didn’t ask many questions. I kept pushing her to go into the hot spring, too.” Sana replied with a smile. “It’s super strong, too; the aphrodisiac really gets to you. You don’t even notice it either because the water feels so good you just want to relax.” Sana cups her cheeks and smiles as she remembers her trip to that same hotel. “It was such a good time; I woke up the next morning with four guys. I hope Jihyo got that sort of treatment; it’s too bad that not many people go in winter.”  The group laughs as they imagine what sort of situation Jihyo got herself into.

[theglassofmiddleearth]

Hello! Could you write about Task Force 141 with a reader who is blind but navigates through echolocation? Clicking her tongue, producing sound.

Imagine a blind read who uses echolocation Task Force 141 due to traumatic injury.

Masterlist

Y’know how Elsa said ‘The cold never bothered me anyways.’

Well, the same could be said for Reader! but for the dark.

Imagine a Reader! who uses echolocation to navigate.

Reader! Has saved many a mission with her talent. Her unique skill has earned her the nickname of Death Angel (those alien creatures from A Quiet Place)

Reader! gets called Angel by Soap and Kyle quite often. When off duty she wears a white blindfold, signifying impartial justice. (just like the ones angels are depicted to wear). However on missions? Reader! holds one over Ghost for intimidating.

The first time they met Reader! dressed for combat even Ghost was unnerved. Reader! had arrived decked out in black, wearing a dirty grey mask (it's clean) over her eyes. There was a red substance that looked to be seeping through what would be her eye sockets.

‘Uh, you must be Sargent L/N.’ Captain Price said in a slightly unnerved tone that only Ghost picked up on.

‘Yes sir that's me. I’ve been lent to the 141 for this specific mission. I hear you need someone to navigate the catacombs.’ Reader! nodded, pointing a thumb at herself. ‘I’ll get you guys through to the other side to your extraction point. Just stay quiet and don’t shoot anything unless I say so and we’ll be fine.’

‘Sorry te ask this lass but, can ye see through yer blindfold?’ A thick Scottish accent filtered into her ears.

‘Ah, I can’t see actually, I’m blind.’ She grinned, lifting up her blindfold a little so they could see just a hint of the of the wound area.

A collective slight gasp rang through the group, while the largest man stayed quiet.

‘It’s not a big deal, one of the missions we went on, my task force was captured and long story short, it’s easier for me to concentrate when I can't see.’ She shrugged, giving them a sly smile.

‘What do you mean?’ The lowest voice grumbled, a welcomed sound to Reader!’s ears.

‘Ah, you’ll see.’ She smirked, tapping under her left eye.

‘Come on, let’s get going. It’s going to be sundown soon and I don’t wanna catch the crazies.’ She turned, turning towards the steps that led down to a city of bones.

The tunnels were close, the smell was of old pages, dusty and damp. The 141 swept their lights across the piles of bones with tensed bodies. They were nearing the shut off point.

Reader! raised a hand, causing the group to come to a halt.

‘My time to shine boys.’ She whispered, ‘Lights out.’

The men reluctantly flicked off their headlights and switched to night vision. Reader! hummed, and let out a breath.

‘Don’t speak unless it’s important.’ Reader! mumbled, before she turned back towards the now bleak, dark tunnel.

The sound of boots quietly scuffing the ground, echoed the tunnels, rang in the men's ears,

Click clickclick click click

The men froze, swinging around with their guns raised.

‘That’s just me guys.’ The comforting voice of Reader! called out from the front.

Price and the rest turned around, slightly embarrassed.

‘Right. Carry on.’ Price muttered, gesturing for the men to follow her.

Reader! continued clicking, navigating the tunnels and avoiding people whenever possible until Reader! suddenly holds up a closed fist.

In front of them to the left side was a room, dimly lit.

Whispering could be heard, muttering and a very soft chanting of at least 5 people.

Reader! clicks one more time before showing 5 fingers, then gestured for them to stay low and sneak past.

The group silently slipped by the open entryway, ignoring the people inside dressed in red robes. Their orders were to get to the other side and if they could help it, not shoot anyone.

After successfully slipping past the unknown group, Reader! continued her clicking, sweeping her gun, across the stones. The group squeezed through holes, ducked below low ceilings and trudged forward. They didn’t encounter any more people. Reader had successfully led them out of the catacombs and back to the surface undetected.

The entire group breathed out a sigh of relief when they emerged from a sewer grate, the moon was high.

‘Not bad guys! Just in time too! Lets get the hell out of here. I need a shower.’ Reader! allows Captian Price to take the lead to the extraction point, following behind the rest of the group.

‘Mate, she’s like a bat, that was so cool. A velvety voice complimented her quietly.

‘Ye blasted fool, she can hear ye. That’s her whole thing.’ The Scottish voice groaned, a loud smack resounded.

‘I like your blindfold.’ The lowest voice said, seemingly amused.

‘Thanks LT I like yours too.’ Reader! smiles, giving the voice a thumbs up.

‘Hm, very good.’ The man rumbled in mirth.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! First i loved the reader + cannibal works you did.

Second, you could write small or big idk pieces of reader and him having their bond and seeing others react to it. It would be funny to see some of them go "excusme this not high blood claimed CANNIBAL?"

And Cannibal just there like "its my human, shut up before i eat you"

Also, HC that Cannibal would totally take the reader to a different place since he finds the rest of humans so 🙄🙄🙄🙄 and 100% sure he was touched when reader bowed to him :,)

Cannibal will always be my favourite dragon, Balerion coming a close second but come on! A dragon who never had a rider cuz no one was worthy?! Imagine the history you’d make when claiming this absolute unit!

You wouldn’t say that you claimed Cannibal like most people have assumed, if anything you’d describe what you and the behemoth mad was more of a connection, a bond that went deeper then that of dragon and rider. It was rather difficult thing to explain to people because the only people who would understand had a hard time themselves coming to terms with the fact that someone without a single trace of Valyrian blood in their body had accomplished what many could not; claim Cannibal.

You truly believed that everyone had the ability to be a dragon rider but the unfortunate reality was that half of them ever would was incredibly rare. So for those that were dragon riders, it was the highest honour imaginable and you were now one of them!

Your bond with Cannibal was unlike any other, it was almost as if this spark, this fire, connecting the two of you to a point where you didn’t know when you began and where Cannibal ended. You could sense Cannibal’s distrust for all humans, especially those who had Valyrian blood running through their veins no matter how small it may be, he hated them all as equally as he did the other humans. With you however Cannibal harboured a deep possessiveness over you. You were his rider after all and he didn’t like it when people like Aemond, Daemond or Rhaenyra got anywhere within distance of you and would blow fire at them without an ounce of hesitation.

‘Cannibal.’ You hissed after Cannibal tried to roast Rhaenyra alive for merely touching your arm in congratulations. The dragon only kept his piercing green eyes on the silver haired woman in red next to you, looking at her with hostility and contempt.

‘It is..quite alright my dear.’ Rhaenyra tried to console you but the daggers your dragon was driving into her back was enough for her to take a step back, she had the blood of the dragon and therefore didn’t fear them but Cannibal was a dragon of unpredictability and therefore must be treated with caution. ‘No harm done.’ She flashes you a smile before departing back to the castle. You sighed before looking at your behemoth of a dragon whose eyes dilated upon seeing you finally pay attention to him, his tail wagging slightly behind him.

‘You are more than your worth sometimes.’ You murmur as you scratched his head before swiftly mounting him as he flew you both off of DragonStone and elsewhere where you wouldn’t be disturbed, but you couldn’t help but thank moments like those that were just for yourself and your dragon as you do tend to get tired of getting asked the same shit ten times over. Yet you swore you had claimed an antisocial cat instead of a dragon whose whole reputation was eating dragons, humans and dragon eggs alike. This was merely one example of how possessive Cannibal got, it was far worse when it was a man like Aemond, then that’s when Cannibal became far more hostile than usual.

For the moment the dragon saw the one eyed prince approach you, his tail immediately shielded you from view while roaring at the prince to fuck off back to his fossil of a dragon, huffing smoke from his nostrils and baring his teeth. ‘I’m going to call you Cannibal the cat if you keep this up.’ You told the dragon as you moved from behind his tail to greet Aemond, who was looking at Cannibal with an unreadable expression. ‘Fascinating.’ He muttered softly as he looked at you.

‘What is?’ You asked.

‘The fact that the first person to ever claim Cannibal is someone with no Valyrian blood nor ancestry to speak of.’ Aemond replied and you couldn’t help but scowl at this, feeling as though this was meant to be some sort of dig at you, but then again the joke was on him because he wasn’t the only one to ride with a dragon of legend anymore.

‘Can you blame me? I don’t rest dragons like their weapons to be used to threaten people in bending the knee.’ You spat back. ‘Sounds to me like you are compensating for the fact that you would’ve been viewed just like any other house in Westeros had it not been for the very Dragons you ride, and yet here you are, treating them as though their disposable while pondering why it maybe that their dying out.’ You added, staring Aemond down as his jaw twitched, you had struck a nerve but all you did in response to that was shrug your shoulders. ‘Sounds a bit hypocritical dont you think my prince?’

‘You know nothing of the word.’ Aemond said lowly as he stepped towards you, only to be greeted by Cannibal’s shadow looming over you both, lowering his head to glare at Aemond from behind you while you looked directly at the prince; unbothered and calm by the whole thing.

‘I wouldn’t but I’m sure your bloodline is more familiar with the misuse and treatment of Dragons than I am.’ You said, feeling no fear with Cannibal having your back, literally, as you looked back at your companion with a smile. ‘Let’s us go somewhere else Cannibal, I fear we may have overstayed our welcome.’ Cannibal only made a sound akin to that of purring and taking that as your que to bid Aemond farewell and mounted Cannibal once more and left.

You had Cannibal’s back and you knew he had yours as well and that’s what you prided your connection on, never had you ever known a more peaceful nights sleep, not until Cannibal draped a protective wing over you to keep you warm during those nights where you just wanted to stay beside your dragon as you cuddled into his warm scaly belly. Your heart and his were one and you feared that without Cannibal, you’d loose apart of yourself forever and you’d treasure every moment you had with your dragon, no matter what may come for either of you in the future.

Now for some character reactions;

Aegon shits himself. Enough said. He will not go near you especially if Cannibal was constantly on the verge of wanting to eat him whole.

He doesn’t care of how you claimed him like others would, he’s terrified of Cannibal and doesn’t want to stay for long enough than he had to, he’s not about that life despite the family he’s reluctantly born into.

Aemond on the other hand was intrigued on how you managed to do such a thing, it was feet unheard of and yet you did it and without being eaten on top of that.

He also would view this as something that was predestined by fate or something like that. You and him being the riders of the largest dragons left alive in Westeros, imagine the destructive force the pair of you would be if you were to be wed to one another. It’s a thought that hasn’t left his mind since the day you claimed Cannibal and while the bitterness of your words stung him, that didn’t mean he wasn’t about to put an end to his dreams of you and him flying together on Vhagar and Cannibal in happy union.

He’s delusional but a dangerous kind, so Cannibal is always on high alert with him.

Otto would try pull out all the stops and arrange a marriage between you and Aemond, feeding into his grandsons dangerous delusions, claiming that you were only this way to see whether or not he would love you at your most stubborn. Besides what’s greater than having one large dragon on your side? Two large dragons!

So Otto doesn’t care about how you claimed cannibal but only the benefits for the greens of you doing so would be enough to have Rhaenyra’s forced yield and pledge for Aegon or die fighting, either way works out for the greens in the end but all he needed to do was get you with Aemond.

Rhaenyra found you claiming Cannibal to be a once in a life time miracle as it wasn’t often that a dragon was claimed by someone who wasn’t a descent of Old Valyria. For you had to be truly something for a dragon as stubborn and dangerous as Cannibal to agree to be yours and knows of the target that you have placed on your back by doing so.

To put it simply, she wants you on her side of the war when the time comes as a last resort should she need you in her most dire of times. You and Cannibal had a connection unlike any other she has ever seen and that makes you an essential asset that everyone will want. She wanted to get to you before the greens do and will try her hardest but it would take some time considering how on guard Cannibal is to anyone who wasn’t you.

He knew what she was doing but with time she hoped that you would get Cannibal to understand because if she nor the greens couldn’t get to you, then there would be another level of uncertainty in knowing that a nomad dragon rider and their dragon were taking to the skies with leisure. You and Cannibal were a lot more dangerous than you may think and that’s what scared her the most; you not understand the power you now hold with cannibal at your beck and call.

Jacaerys thought that someone who wasn’t of Valyrian decent couldn’t claim a dragon nearly as successfully as those of Valyrian descent could. However you managed to defy all expectations that were previously set and proven that the impossible could be possible through the right circumstances.

He had so many questions on how you did it but Cannibal would always stop him and take you away before he could. He had read stories about cannibal and knew better then to hop on Vermax and chase after you, and so he would just allow his mind to ponder on how it was that you managed to claim Cannibal without being consumed.

He too feared the eyes that you have no attracted to yourself by doing such a thing and would try his best to protect you no matter what but Cannibal was proving it very difficult to get close to you without fire being out at him. However Jace was determined to make sure that no harm came to you, even if he had to do so from afar.

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

BEFORE I START

Yes, another story of Curly. What can i do? I love him.

THIS IS ALL INSPIRED BY THIS AWESOME ARTIST THAT I FOUND ON TIKTOK

btw the curly of this story will kook like this so you can already imagine him.

The user is ladonb.kokosa

PLEASE GO CHECK THEIR ART ITS WONDERFUL

That being said. Lets get start with

Part 1 - Next

"Cryostasis ended"

"His vital signs are stable"

"Who could it be?"

"Disinfect the wounds"

"There are no more survivors"

"They authorized us to give him the implant."

The man could hear several voices in the distance, he saw silhouettes, shadows, he couldn't distinguish the people around him.

He felt them putting a mask on him to anesthetize him, and everything went dark again.

When he woke up, he saw a woman checking his signs, and he was astonished to recognize her despite some of her physical changes.

She was his fiancée, the woman he was supposed to marry after that trip.

Why did she look like that? She seemed older, but in his sigth, she remained beautiful.

He made some sounds to get her attention, causing her to turn and look at him. She approached and pressed something on his neck.

Curly: "Linda..."

Linda: "...No... Tell me it's not you..."

The woman immediately stepped back, covering her mouth, unable to believe what she was seeing.

She didn't recognize the man laying in that bed in front of her, and she prayed so hard that he wasn't the man she was going to marry, but the fact that he recognized her confirmed her fear.

He could understand the terror on her face, but he didn't know there was something else he didn't know.

She took a deep breath and set her fear aside, sitting next to the man.

Linda: "Curly... If it really is you..." she said, still holding out a small hope that it wasn't him, "You were cryogenically frozen for 20 years... They rescued you because the Tulpar re-entered orbit near Earth before running out of energy, they were able to detect it and bring it back without causing damage, and that's how they found you inside... You have been in the hospital for two weeks today..."

He wanted to laugh as if what he was being told was a bad joke, it couldn't have been that long, right?

But looking closely at her, the small wrinkles now on her face and the few gray hairs she had showed her that she was real.

Linda: "They didn't find any more survivors and... The same press has taken care of paying your medical expenses because they want to hear your story... You have an implant in your neck so you can speak, a voice box, you have to press it if you have difficulties but in a while you won't need to do it anymore... and they did a skin graft... Including some prosthetics..."

She carefully took the prosthetics of his arms and raised them so he could see them, Curly felt like a completely different being.

Linda: "I recommend that you ask for what you want now because... As soon as they find out you're awake... They're going to bombard you with questions and the press will come here, they won't show any mercy."

The man tried to raise the prosthesis and pressed his implant on his neck to be able to speak.

Curly: "What about us?"

Linda: "Oh Curly..." she sighed, "When you didn't come back, I thought the worst... That you were dead... I just keep going with my life... I married someone else, I have two children... There is no longer an 'us'."

Before he could say anything else, a reporter peeked in and made a fuss upon seeing him awake; the place filled up in seconds.

The woman lowered her head and left the room in search of security to throw out the press, but the harassment didn't end there.

Curly chose to give them the answers to the questions they had by scheduling a meeting at the hospital.

Thanks to this, many people started donating things to him, including money to help him reintegrate into society.

But beyond the kindness of people, no one wanted to take care of him and help him, not even the nurses, they said they couldn't spend too much time near him.

Linda took care of him during his stay in the hospital while they fixed up his house that had been left abandoned.

Linda: "I found someone who can take care of you."

She commented while pushing his wheelchair, entering his house, that it looked completely renovated.

Linda: "I don't know if you still remember that I mentioned my younger sister, (Y/n), a couple of times?"

Curly: "The one who lived with your father?"

Linda: "That's right... My mom got full custody of her after a few years, and since then she has been living with her until she became independent shortly after turning 18..." 

Curly: "She was 12 back then..."

Linda: "She recently lost her job, I thought it would be a good opportunity for her. She is very responsible, I promise."

When they arrived in the room, he could see a woman standing and looking at the paintings hanging on the walls.

He had never met his fiancée's sister, but he had heard many stories about her, about how her father unjustly gained custody by labeling their mother as crazy, and since then they had fought to get the girl back.

He had been struck by how incredibly different she was from her sister; you two didn't seem related at all.

Linda: "Good thing you were already here," she mentioned with a smile to catch your attention. 

When you turned to look at them, Curly didn't expect such seriousness from you towards your older sister. 

"...Thank you for the job opportunity, I will do my best to help you," you mentioned, looking at the man, ignoring the woman. 

Linda: "Let me show you where everything is-"

"I've already been getting familiar with the place, it's not necessary, you can go."

Linda: "At least let me tell you which medications you should-"

"You have already sent me a message with clear instructions. I can do this, Lin."

Curly: "You should be more respectful to your older sister."

Upon hearing him speak, you turned to look at him again, without any expression. 

"...Lin"

Linda: "I'll leave, there is no problem. I'm sure you've already memorized everything to the letter. If you have any problem, don't hesitate to call me."

She indicated, she didn't want to make a scene and left without even saying goodbye to either of them. 

"...So you are Curly... It's a pleasure to meet you, I hope we get along well."

You had already made a bad first impression on Curly by treating the love of his life so poorly. 

"Lin left your pill organizer with me, and gave me the schedule for them, it's time for the first pill."

You took a bottle and opened it to take a pill, causing the man to tense up a bit as he remembered moments when he was given his painkillers.

Noticing his nervousness, you tilted your head somewhat confused and went to get something to drink so he could take the pill. 

What a surprise he got when you brought him a cup of chocolate along with the pill. 

"When I was little... I didn't know how to swallow pills, I would choke, so I would bite them... My dad used to give me pills with chocolate milk so I wouldn't have a bad taste in my mouth, don't you like the taste of the pills? These can be very bitter..." 

He thought it was very kind of you to consider that, immediately regretting having judged you without knowing anything about you. 

You helped him take the pills, giving him chocolate to drink slowly, it really helped with the bitter taste. 

Maybe... you weren't so bad.