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chericarlisle · 8 months

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you come home for summer break from college and meet your dad’s best friend carlisle cullen for the first time at family dinner and mans is 🤤🥵😍

Just a Summer Thing || c.c

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: carlisle cullen x human female reader

(𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

𝐚/𝐧: i haven’t been on tumblr in about two years. y’all i literally couldn’t even navigate this new format of the app, so needless to say my writing is rusty and my formatting is shit. i’ve literally never seen some of these requests in my inbox until now i’m so sorry 😭

for the sake of this story we are just gonna pretend that carlisle doesn’t light up like a bottle of glitter in the sun.

For many, the most exciting part of graduating is the freedom that comes with the college experience; however, after almost a year of no privacy and very loud neighbors, you begin to miss home. Suddenly graduating high school is not the most exciting part, but rather it is coming back home from college for summer break.

Finals week had kicked everyone’s asses and after celebrating such a survival, many college students- yourself included- eagerly packed up their 290 sq ft. rooms to return to much larger ones.

You and your roommate, Mel, had helped each other pack up the first day that finals were over. Mel had become a pretty good friend over the past year, but she unfortunately had to live on the opposite coast. It seemed that things always worked out that way for you for just about anything.

Your parents had finally divorced when you were sixteen which sent one parent to the west coast and the other to the east. The same could be said about a package of jeans that you had ordered; each one coincidentally ended up on the opposite sides of the United States.

Since your mother was taking a sojourn around the world, you were going to stay with your dad in Forks for the summer. He had recently moved to the new city after receiving a job offer from the city’s barren hospital. The job came with great pay, but most importantly a wonderful modernist house resting on the eaves of the forest. The exact words being from the realtor who had so eagerly sold your father on the house. Despite the fact that the house was a lavish build in the middle of nowhere, it was only fair that your father finally lived happily. The man had been living in an unhappy marriage for so many years; it was something that you all could attest to.

You had stayed at his house a few times before in the fall and winter, yet you hoped that summer would vanish the melancholy atmosphere of Forks. If it wasn’t raining, then it was snowing and vice versa. It seemed that there was always something falling from the sky in Forks almost year-round.

Your hopes for a glowing summer at your father’s were assured when you arrived at his house surrounded by not a single cloud. It was about a six hour drive before you arrived in the town, and you noticed that the sun does in fact shine in Forks after all.

“(Y/n), you made it!” Your father came running out of the front door, although it was impossible to not notice him since more than half his house was made of glass.

You put the car in park and stepped out to meet the man in an embrace. His usual cologne was overpowered by the smell of the hospital disinfectant that lingered on his white lab coat. “Dad! It’s been too long.”

He nodded in agreement before offering to help you unload your car. The upside of living in a dorm room that was about the size of a large bathroom is that one can’t accumulate too many boxes. You popped the trunk to reveal about six medium sized boxes that consisted simply of clothes and dorm room decor.

Your dad chuckled at your down sizing, “That’s all you got, kiddo? Wow, college really has changed you! Where’s my girl that moved in with a gazillion boxes?”

“I could say the same about you, Dad. Living in this giant fishbowl and all, I would’ve thought that you’d have more furniture.” You jested at him as the two of you began to pick up the few boxes.

He set down a box and placed his hands on his hips, “Well how would you know that? You haven’t even stepped inside yet!”

Closing the trunk you jokingly shook your head, “Like I said, fishbowl.”

Your dad helped you unpack your meager amount of belongings. He made the bed with the new mattress while you hung up your clothing in the empty closet. Even though you had visited last year when he had first moved in, this house and its furniture still felt foreign. The newly constructed home aroma still lingered in the air.

“So Dad, how’s work?” Mindlessly rearranging the hangers, you decided to organize the closet for the second time.

“It’s going pretty well actually,” He smoothed out the plush comforter before continuing, “I’ve gotten close with some of the other doctors and I was actually thinking of inviting them and their families over tomorrow for a barbecue.”

You hummed a response while continuing to sort the hanging clothes, for you were not opposed to the idea of a barbecue. It had been so long since you’d had any good food that wasn’t from the dining halls.

“You know you were right, (y/n). The sun does actually shine in Forks!” Your dad chuckled once more before excusing himself to go make phone calls to his friends from the hospital.

—-

The next day, despite that there was a small chance for rain, Mother Nature held out and it seemed to be for the better. There would be plenty of time for rain in the months that occurred after August.

Your dad had opened up the pool because what’s a barbecue without a pool party? Slipping on a yellow sundress over a swimsuit, you went downstairs to help with the food preparation. The kitchen counters were covered in various packages of bread as well as hamburgers and hotdogs waiting to be grilled. Everyone was set to arrive around one o’clock, and it was currently two hours before then. The time crunch was apparent as your dad ran around the kitchen frantically trying to man the stovetop and the ovens. Between the combined work of both you and your dad, lunch was prepped right as the visitors began walking in.

Last night, your dad had told you that he was inviting a few coworkers and their families, but you had no idea that it would turn out to be so many people. The backyard was brimming with young kids running around the pool while their parents socialized over drinks in the vast plot of grass. While your dad grilled the main course for lunch, he had you welcome everyone at the front door. Most of them were doctors, but a few were nurses. Regardless, they all came with either spouses, kids, or both.

Except one doctor stood out very much, for he came alone. You were not only stunned by his lack of family, but also how perfectly styled his light blonde hair was. His hair somehow managed to contrast his flawless skin that seemed even paler. Not a single strand fell forward and covered his golden eyes that crinkled as he wore a polite smile. One hand sturdily held a case of beer, presumably for the party, while the other reached out to greet you.

“Hello, you must be (y/n). I’m Carlisle Cullen. Your dad talks about you a lot at the hospital.” The man squeezed your hand gently in a friendly manner before letting his own drop to the side.

“Wow, I just got here and I’ve already got a reputation. Hope he says good things about me.” You reached out to take the case of beer from him, but he insisted on carrying it himself like a gentleman. Most of the guests had just thrown their things at you, so this was a nice change of treatment.

“Only good things, of course.” He nodded.

You gestured Dr. Cullen to come inside and he followed behind you, waving to the couple of guests that were mingling indoors.

“So Dr. Cullen, are you the one who hired my dad? Your name sounds vaguely familiar.” The two of you were nearing the backyard, and your dad waved you both over through the screen door.

“Your father had an impressive resume and we desperately needed that kind of help around the hospital. And please, call me Carlisle.” He turned around to smile at you before making his way over to your dad who wore the grin of a five year old standing in a candy store. The two seemed to be talking a mile a minute as if they had not just seen each other at work. It was apparent that Dr. Cullen was your dad’s closest confidant in the hospital.

Sitting on one of the lounge chairs, you began to feel the rays of the sun harshly beaming down like a spotlight. The heat was becoming unbearable, so you slipped off the yellow sundress to reveal a teal bikini that was a gift from Mel. Everyone was either preoccupied with their friends or family and couldn’t have cared less, except one man who stood by your father at the grill.

Dr. Cullen, an untouched beer in hand, was walking over towards you. A smirk painted his lips, but you knew behind those sunglasses there was a playful glimmer in his eyes. Your father was so preoccupied with his role as grill master that he didn’t even notice that the doctor had walked off.

“Now, Dr. Cullen, why aren’t you out there socializing with your peers?” You playfully pulled down your sunglasses to peer at the man who had leisurely taken a seat on the lounge chair beside you.

“Well, Ms. (y/l/n), I see these people every day,” He gestures to the mass of people surrounding the yard, “but it’s not every day that I get to talk to you.”

You stifled a giggle at his poor attempt to flirt, “Do you get many girls with that line, Doc?”

He shook his head, laughing at his own poorly planned pick-up line. “Apparently, I’ve been out of practice for a while, sweetheart.”

Leaning the back of the lounge up, you turned to sit and face him. The chairs were positioned so closely that your knees hit his, yet neither of you moved. Barely leaning in, your lips ghosted against the shell of his ear. The smell of mint clouded your senses being so close to the man who was as still as a statue.

“We’ll see about that.” Breathlessly, the words left your lips as you leaned further to grab his untouched beer and take a confident swig.

You leaned back to see that his face was not shocked, but rather smug. If he had been stunned by your receptiveness, then it surely wasn’t obvious now as he seemed unphased. It was more obvious that a challenge had been accepted.

Just as he was about to continue the banter, your dad hurriedly ran over to the both of you. He was covered in one of those cheesy grilling aprons and desperately waving around the tongs in his hand. “Hey, would you guys mind grabbing some paper plates and cups? We ran out, but there should be some in the closet upstairs. I’ve got just about a million more burgers to cook.”

You looked at Dr. Cullen who just shrugged in return. Agreeing to help, you both stood and began to walk back to the house. Your father, pleased with the answer, ran off to continue to man the grill and the line that was beginning to form.

Dr. Cullen seemed to trail behind aimlessly, so you grabbed his hand without second thought. Once you were inside, you eagerly led him up the stairs and to the hallway where the closet was.

Just like everything else in this house, the hallway closet was unnecessarily elaborate in its design. It was no towel closet, but more like the size of a whole bathroom itself. You walked in once the barn door slid open and Dr. Cullen flicked on the lights.

For a man who lived by himself, your father stored a lot in the closet that would make you think he had a family of ten living with him. You scanned the endless shelves as did Dr. Cullen, but the plates and cups appeared on your side first.

“Found ‘em.” Of course the supplies had to be on the very top shelf which appeared to be closer to the sky than you. It wasn’t until you were on tippy toes trying to reach the items that you were aware of leaving your sundress downstairs by the pool.

And it wasn’t until Dr. Cullen stepped behind you, that you were aware of how chills racked your body.

“Need some help there?” A cold hand rested on your bare waist as you turned your head ever so slightly to be met with Dr. Cullen who tauntingly looked down at your lips. Without shame, he continued to admire your pillowy soft lips before you gave in.

Fruitless attempts to get the supplies were damned as you threw your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. You pulled him down as he pulled you closer; neither of you wanting to let go. His one hand on your neck slid up to cup your jaw, slightly turning your head to expose your neck. For a brief moment, his lips disconnected from yours, but only to make their way further down. The man slowly moved his free hand from your waist to delicately brush your hair off your shoulder. His lips connected with your neck as he kissed a slow line down to your collarbone.

“God, Dr. Cullen,” You threaded your fingers through his hair as he mercilessly continued on, “You don’t seem that out of practice to me.”

For a split second he stopped his maneuvers only to correct you once more, “Please, call me Carlisle.”

So overcome with pleasure, his name breathlessly rolled off your lips and you only pulled yourself closer to him. Moving your hands from his hair, you began to blindly fiddle with the buttons on his shirt as he continued to nip at the sweet spot where your shoulder met your neck. His skilled fingers began to play with the strings of your bikini top that held it together.

He murmured while trying to slow his movements, “Sweetheart, I don’t think I can stop, but I don’t want to do this here.” His efforts to stop were becoming forgotten as he took in the sweet smell of your perfume that painted your skin and tempted him more. “You deserve something thoughtful, not a heated moment in a closet.”

You quickly pulled back and he seemed shocked, for he mistook your adoration for insult. His eyes scanned your face for any inkling of meaning before your lips reconnected with his in a hurried passion which instantly cleared his confusion.

Meanwhile, downstairs, your dad noticed the absence of paper plates and cups. He didn’t come to think of where you might have run off with them, but he instead took initiative to find them himself. Not a single thing could’ve prepared the man for the sight that he would see once he made it to the top of the stairs and down the hall.

Without a care in the world, your dad slid open the heavy barn door to not only find the missing supplies, but to also find his daughter pressed up against the shelves and lip locked to Dr. Cullen. The faint sound of someone uttering their shock caused you and Carlisle to separate. Your father stood in the doorway frozen in shock before Carlisle instinctively jumped in front of you to cover any indecencies.

After what felt like the longest minute of your life, your dad awkwardly cleared his throat before speaking. “I’ll uh just grab some paper plates next door.”

As your father scrambled off, Carlisle turned around to plant a kiss on your forehead, "Like I said, we can do this somewhere else."

a/n: i haven't posted on tumblr in so long this feels so weird 😭 please like and repost! REQUESTS ARE CLOSED (these are ones from years ago lol)

#carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen fanfiction #twilight carlisle #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen #twilight fanfiction #twilight

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irrelevantwriter · 10 months

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Captive Heart

Pairing: Dark!Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW, 18+ only

Warnings: Dark!Eddie, language, mentions of kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, hint of somnophilia, consensual vaginal sex, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of bodily fluids

Word Count: 2831

Summary: Eddie wanted you. And he got you.

A/N: Dark Eddie is here and he’s pretty dark. This really came out of left field for me, but it also felt right so enjoy! Share with your friends! Feedback is that good shit.💗

Disclaimer: As always, reader inserts are true reader inserts. If you find any specifics in regards to reader’s appearance, kindly let me know and I will fix that.

Disclaimer: Characters are of age in my fics.

*Check out my other Eddie fics here

*Masterlist in bio.

**********************

Eddie groaned as he lifted his aching body into his van, his grease stained hands calloused from the day’s work.

He eagerly fished out a cigarette from his pocket and immediately lit the stick, not even stopping to start the engine. The cab was thick with the July sun, causing his overgrown bangs to cling to his sweaty skin. He ignored the suffocating heat and rolled down his window, sucking in a much needed breath of nicotine.

His body began to relax once the bitter taste of tobacco hit his tongue. Only then was he able to turn the car on.

Music assaulted him and he rushed to turn it down, the pain behind his skull intensifying. Cool air blasted from the vents as he threw the van into drive. He drove on autopilot, eager to leave the clusterfuck of a day he’d had behind.

The garage had been busy and customers were anything but kind to him. Which wasn’t unusual for a guy like Eddie Munson. The population of Hawkins had never been particularly welcoming. It surely hadn’t changed now that he’d finally graduated and held down a decent job.

That was too much to ask apparently.

The further he drove from downtown, the lighter he felt. The sensation was a reminder as to why he’d taken up residence in a nearly abandoned house on the outskirts of town. He’d let Wayne have his trailer back a few years back, wanting to give the old man his freedom after tying himself to the town freak. Wayne deserved that much.

Eddie thought of what waited for him at home. Who waited for him at home and an ache of a different kind began to settle into his bones as he thought of you.

Pretty. Smart. Kind.

All adjectives he felt were too good for him. But you’d been his from the moment he’d first spotted you in town. And unlike the majority of Hawkins, you’d treated him with respect. Like an equal. He’d fallen in love instantly. A rarity for a pessimist like himself.

He stopped at a familiar intersection, waiting for the light to turn. His eyes caught sight of the newest billboard posted. It changed every few months. The same face always smiling back. Usually the reward amount was higher, a family desperate to have their missing piece returned to them.

A honk sounded from behind him and he realized the light had turned green. He waved in apology and stepped on the gas, leaving the plea for help behind.

His fingers drummed against the steering wheel as he turned on his isolated street. There were only three homes that dotted the road, all separated by thick trees and bushes. Most of the yards were overgrown. He’d never met his neighbors and he preferred it that way. He liked his privacy. And so did they.

His heart sped up and his stomach filled with anticipation, excited to set eyes on you after a long day away. He parked his van under the car park, noticing the wicker basket that sat next to the side door leading into the kitchen. A pair of gardening gloves peppered with dirt lay abandoned at the bottom.

Eddie had mixed feelings about the sight. He turned off his van, finding it odd that you hadn’t come out to greet him. That was your normal routine.

He exited the vehicle and made his way up the concrete steps, doing his best to kick off any lingering grease and mud from his boots. He used his key to unlock the door, a refreshing blast of A/C hitting him in the face. He sighed at the feel of it on his overheated body. The van’s air conditioning was dwindling with every summer that came and went.

Silence permeated the air as he took in the kitchen. He noted the smell first. A mouthwatering scent that practically made him groan. He walked over to the stove, a large pot of pot roast sat beneath a clear lid, condensation collecting near the rim. He noted the oven was off, but the pot was still warm, signaling it’d just been shut off.

He left the food and set out to find you, his body tense and on edge. All he could think about since he’d left you that morning was being back inside you. That was his favorite place to be. And that was the only cure for the shitty hand he’d been dealt that day.

He made his way to the bedroom in the back. His bedroom. The door was ajar, the foot of the bed coming into view as he stepped closer. He reached out and pushed the door open, taking in your sleeping form. His cock hardened at the sight.

You were nude, lying on your stomach with your leg hitched up, face buried into his pillow. The position afforded him the kind of view he’d longed for all day.

He moved quietly as he approached your sleeping form, his fingers itching to reach out and touch you. He gave in to his desires and skimmed your ankle with his fingertips, watching you closely. You didn’t stir.

You slept soundly. And lately, you’d gotten increasingly hot natured. You hardly slept with clothing on anymore. Not that he minded.

He would normally shower once he got home from work, but the overwhelming urge he had to take you was too strong. You were laid out so perfectly for him, beckoning him to come closer. So he listened.

Eddie undressed and crawled onto the foot of the bed, letting his hands roam up the expanse of your thighs. He licked his lips as his thumbs spread your opening, your body winking to him in welcome. Without preamble, he dipped a finger inside. Warm heat coated him. He was desperate for more.

You shifted against his touch, hips inching towards the pleasure. He watched as your walls took him in easily. So he added another finger. He moved them deeper, almost betting he could feel the many loads he’d left in you that morning before he’d left for work.

He watched your face for any signs of consciousness, but there were none. He didn’t like that.

He removed his fingers and moved his mouth closer to your sex, hovering. A large glob of saliva fell from his lips to your skin and he sought out your clit, done with being considerate. He needed you.

He was aggressive with his actions, using his fingers to rub intentionally. A soft gasp was his reward. He smiled as your body jerked, your legs fighting to close around his hand as your eyes flew open. He held your thighs, keeping you in position as he shushed you.

“Shh…shhh,” he soothed, his fingers betraying his gentle tone. “It’s me, baby. It’s just me.”

You settled for only a moment before you whimpered and tried to push his hand away.

“M’still sore, Eddie,” you whispered, voice thick with sleep. The sound made his cock twitch.

He smiled down at you, not at all trying to hide the condemnation in his features. “Sore from what, baby?”

His fingers dipped back into your slit, the appendages flooded with your arousal. You bit your lip, the need to cry out written all over your face. Your brows furrowed and your nose scrunched in that cute way he loved. Your fists clung to bedding below you. It was an indication of just how close you were, despite your pleas.

“This morning,” you answered between moans, hips rocking into his hand now.

“You saying fucking you three times before I leave is too much?”

You didn’t reply. He hooked his fingers, making you arch off the bed.

“Answer me.”

“No. No, s’not,” you slurred, trying to reach for his forearm.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, his pace slowing, removing his fingers all together. You whimpered and he soothed the ache with a swipe of his palm over your puffy lips.

“Turn on your side.”

You wordlessly obeyed, twisting so that your upper body was now turned towards him, your lower half still flush with the mattress and open to his touch.

“Hold still for me, baby,” he instructed as he shifted on his knees. He held your thighs in place as he angled his throbbing cock to your opening, rutting against you and coating himself in your wetness.

“Mmm,” you hummed, already cock drunk at the feel of him.

“Need you, baby. Need you so bad.”

Eddie gritted his teeth as the tip of his cock slipped past your entrance, your walls squeezing in acceptance. It’d taken him weeks to get you trained to that point and now he was addicted to the sensation.

As soon as he felt your body clench around him, his self control disappeared. He acted on instinct and buried himself to the hilt, his hips meeting the flesh of your ass. A high pitched moan ricocheted in his ears as your body took him.

You always made the prettiest sounds. Even when you cried.

“Fuck, baby…feel so good,” he babbled, fingertips digging into your thighs. Flesh slapped against flesh as he moved, watching the way your tits bounced in response.

This was the feeling he’d been chasing all day. Shit, all his life if he was being completely honest. That was why he’d swooped in and took you for himself. He had to. He had to do it.

He’d planned it for weeks. How he’d lure you to him. Which wasn’t hard considering how sweet you were on him. He could tell. He thought it was cute.

You fought him at first. Of course you did. He’d taken you and held you captive in his home. But over time you grew comfortable with him. You understood he wasn’t trying to hurt you. He took care of you. Took care of your every want and need. And pretty soon you were coming to him. Seeking him out to make you feel better.

Eddie had done his research. He knew all about Stockholm Syndrome. And he put it to the test with you. Now, eight months later with his cock buried so deep inside of you he could practically see the outline in your stomach, he could call it a success. You were well and truly his.

“More, Eddie…please,” you begged, knowing better than to disobey him. He gave you what you wanted and let two fingers seek out your clit. He never let you touch yourself. A rule you were good at following. It’d only taken you two times to know you didn’t want to do it again.

“My good girl…so good for me. Always. Isn’t that right?”

You nodded, mouth agape as your body writhed on his cock. You were close. And so was he.

He sped up his movements, seeing your face twist in pain as he hit deep. He didn’t stop. He kept going.

“Cum for me, baby. I know you want to,” he demanded, using his free hand to swat at your ass. You recoiled, but the moan that left your lips betrayed you. So he did it again.

You came with a shuttering gasp, limbs twisted so tight he was sure they’d snap. He held still so that every shock of pleasure that washed over you traveled along his cock.

When your body went limp, he resumed his efforts. He sought out your chest, squeezing the flesh as he fucked you. Your eyes were glossed over and staring up at him, your lips curved into a drunken smile. When his hand traveled further up to clutch at your neck, you let him.

Eddie growled as he applied pressure. You arched into his touch, your pussy so utterly fucked out that he was nearly slipping from its clutches.

“Fuck. Just like that, baby,” he grimaced between clenched teeth, feeling that telltale sensation at the base of his spine. “You’re so good to me. Letting me use you. Right?”

He released your throat and you sucked in air, your hand wrapping around his tattooed wrist.

“Yes, yes…whenever you want.”

“You’re mine. Say it,” he growled, punctuating his words with a punishing thrust.

“I’m yours, Eddie.”

That was all he needed to finish.

He pumped you full, like he usually did, hips never stopping, even when the sensitivity kicked in. Your whiny moans and whimpers only spurred him on as he collapsed over you, bodies sweaty and sticking to each other. He kissed your cheek sloppily, still stuck in the throes of his climax.

Everything always felt so much better with you. Before you, sex never felt this good. Coming home never felt as good. You were all he needed. And he would fight until his dying breath to keep that hidden from you. Because the moment you realized that you were the one that held all the power, he knew you’d leave him. Just like everyone else.

“Fucking fuck…so good for me, baby…so good,” he panted into your neck, hands squeezing at every part of you he could reach.

Several seconds passed before either of you attempted to move. He settled his full weight onto you, cock still very much nestled between your legs. He could feel his cum trickling out, so he lazily thrust his hips in hopes of catching the runaway drops.

“Sensitive,” you sleepily murmured, hips edging away from him.

He ignored your comment, peppering your chest and neck with kisses.

“You know the rule about wasting,” he reminded you, nose burrowing into your cheek.

Your hands came to rest in his hair in silent apology, pushing the tangled waves away from his face. You met his eyes and all he saw was adoration.

“Let’s take a shower.”

He groaned in protest, nipping at your bottom lip, eliciting a giggle. “Don’t wanna move.”

“You’ll feel better. I’ll help. And then I can feed you.”

Eddie acquiesced, shifting off of you. He was hungry. And a shower did sound nice. Especially when his muscles ached in protest of his movements.

“Come on,” you purred, somehow finding the strength to pull his hand into yours, helping him off the bed.

He followed you wordlessly.

************

An hour later Eddie sat at the small dining table in the kitchen, eating the pot roast you’d made. His hair lay in damp streaks along his naked back and shoulders, the slight chill helping him stay cool. He watched you move around the space with ease, humming to yourself as you made yourself a plate.

He admired the way your ass shifted in the little sundress he’d gotten you last week. The fabric fell over your curves like it was made for you. And with the sun streaming in through the little window near the sink, you looked like an angel with a halo. His angel.

He regretfully pulled his eyes away and reached for the newspaper sitting beside him. While your back was turned, he thumbed through the pages, looking for what he knew would be there.

On page six he found it. He stared back at the picture of you, the words MISSING printed above the image. You were smiling, looking as beautiful as you did now standing in his home. He quickly snatched the page, tucking it into the pocket of his pants, moving quickly so as not to alert you.

You turned just as he folded what was left of the newspaper aside.

“Saw you went into the garden today,” he commented, taking note of the way you straightened in your chair.

“I thought that was allowed,” you whispered, the fear in your eyes giving you away.

Eddie reached for your hand, soothing your worries. “It is. It is, sweetheart. I just want you to be careful. Don’t want anyone to bother you,” he gently explained, seeing you visibly relax. No one ever came around his property, but it didn’t hurt to remind you.

“I know, Eddie. I’m always careful. I promise.”

And he believed you. Because you hadn’t left him yet.

He’d given you more and more freedom over the last few months, and you’d proven time and time again that he could trust you. He still took precautions when necessary. He didn’t have a television. He didn’t own a telephone. Everything you heard about the outside world was through him first. He made sure.

“I know you are, baby. You’re my good girl.” Eddie planted a kiss to the back of your hand, his heart thudding wildly when you smiled at him.

You nodded in confirmation, letting him playfully nibble at your fingertips.

“Now eat your food. The baby needs it,” he gently ordered, releasing your hand.

You did as he said.

He had five months. Five more months to save and get you and the baby out of Hawkins. Shit, he was going to get you out of the fucking state. Settle down on one of the coasts.

He’d done what he’d set out to do.

You were his.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things

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slutty-transformation-stories · 6 months

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Faithful Wife part 4

Nicole could not get over the video she had seen that night she had even saved it and spent her free time masturbating to it, moaning Frank's name. Little did she know the video had a virus in it that recorded her. One day, she got a text from Frank, "Meet me in the office after work."

Nicole had arrived at Andrews office after hours with fear and trepidation, knowing what she was about to do. She nervously entered the front door and called out Frank's name. She had been fantasising over him since the video she found. Frank entered the room, and Nicole nervously spoke, making excuses why she had called him. Frank immediately interjected, telling her he had heard her moaning his name and had even recorded it. Embarrassed, Nicole stepped into his office, hoping for privacy, only for Frank to grab her from behind. He told her how good she felt and that he knew she wanted him. She begged him to delete the recording, and, in return, Frank offered his help in exchange for some sexual favours. Nicole found herself melting into Frank's arms as he kissed her. She paused and asked one more time if he would delete the recording, to which he shook his head and asked her to take off her top. She hesitatingly complied and leaned down on her knees, pleased when he grabbed her neck. She took his cock in her mouth, pleasing him as much as she could in exchange for her freedom. As much as it felt wrong to do this, Nicole knew it was her only way out. She gulped as she looked him over and her voice just came out a whisper 'You're so big.

Frank heard her and it aroused him even further, making him even bigger. Without hesitation he pinned her against the wall and they started making out. He started exploring her body with his hands and he could feel her trembling with desire.

Nicole's whispers were getting louder and she moaned 'Oh, Frank that feels amazing. You taste so good.'

Frank then took it upon himself to take charge and asked her to show him what she could do. Without missing a beat, Nicole was on top of him, and she further showed him her skill by pleasuring him with her mouth. With every movement, Frank was going deeper in, and his moans were getting louder.

Frank then said, almost in disbelief, 'Oh my god! I had no idea you were such a slut.'

Nicole didn't stop to answer and kept going. Her mouth felt like heaven, and she was getting closer and closer to orgasm.

Frank couldn't keep up with her and he gasped out 'I'm gunna cum baby.' Nicole kept going and with one last thrust, waved over him and screamed out 'Yes! Cum for me! Cover me with your cum!'

Frank shook, as his orgasm electrified his body and then he completely relaxed.

Nicole was still on top of him, and she murmured, almost to herself, 'Mhmmmmm....you taste so good. Mhmmmmm......Frank....'

The moment was broken when Nicole realized what had just happened. She quickly asked him to delete the video he had taken earlier. But Frank was not having it. He told her he had seen what she wanted and he refused to delete it.

The next day, Andrew, one of Frank's colleagues and Nicoles husband, walked in the office to find Frank.Frank acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary and asked if he would like any help. Andrew quickly apologized for the intrusion and excused himself.

After he left, Frank said, 'Well done Nicole. You did very well.'

Nicole blushed from under his desk but she felt satisfied with herself. She knew that she had done good and that was reward enough for her.

Frank, sensing her mood, added, 'Now it's time for your reward for a job well done.'

Nicole's breathing quickened as she waited for him to say what the reward would be. But instead, Frank just looked at her, silently telling her what he wanted.

Nicole closed her eyes and whispered, 'It tastes so good...I love your cock so much...'

Frank smirked and said, 'If I have known you were such a dirty wife, sucking another man's cock in front of your husband, I would've claimed you much sooner.'

Nicole said nothing else; she just looked down and blushed.

Frank knew he had to let her go, but before he did he added 'Now go home and behave!'

Nicole smiled, although it was a bit forced, before she grabbed her things and left.

She was still shocked that she had done something like that, but deep inside there was a special satisfaction in knowing she had done something daring and provocative. She had shown Frank that she was not a typical good wife and that she could make him feel things he didn't know he was capable of.

She smiled to herself proudly, and she knew she would have to come up with something even more daring for next time. At her heart, she was now a Queen Of Spades, not that her mind knew yet.

#corruption #dumb thicc #phat ass white girl #cheating woman #cheating sex #cheating spouse #black and white #bnwo propaganda #whor3 #sluttoy #slutty wife #qos4bbc

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hlstead · 8 months

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my lover

[hakim ziyech x reader]

I couldn't believe my luck when I met Hakim. I was just a regular 25-year-old girl, and he was a world-famous football star. But somehow, we fell in love, and now we were married. It was like a fairy tale, except for one thing – Hakim was incredibly careful about keeping our relationship private.

We had just moved to Türkiye, and Hakim had signed with a new team. The day he put pen to paper on that contract, the paparazzi were everywhere. I watched from the sidelines as he held up his new jersey, proud and beaming. I couldn't help but smile myself, knowing that I was the one who got to share this moment with him.

But then, disaster struck. As we made our way to the VIP area, someone managed to snap a photo of us from the side. I didn't think much of it at the time, but little did I know that this innocent snapshot would change everything.

Later that night, I was scrolling through social media when I saw it – the photo of Hakim and me. My heart sank as I realized that my face was clearly visible. Panic washed over me, and I knew that our carefully guarded secret was in jeopardy.

I rushed over to Hakim, who was in the next room, and showed him the photo. He cursed under his breath and pulled me into a tight hug. "Don't worry, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with concern. "We'll figure this out."

The next few days were a whirlwind. Hakim and his team scrambled to contain the leak and protect our privacy. They hired a team of lawyers and PR experts to do damage control, but the paparazzi were relentless. They camped outside our home, followed us wherever we went, and hounded us for interviews.

Hakim did his best to shield me from the chaos. He would wrap his arm around me whenever we stepped out in public, trying to hide my face from the cameras. He refused to let me go anywhere alone, always by my side, even if it meant missing out on some of the things he loved to do in Türkiye.

One evening, as we were having dinner at a quiet restaurant, a paparazzo managed to sneak in and snap a photo of us. Hakim's frustration was palpable, but he didn't lose his cool. Instead, he calmly asked the restaurant staff to ensure our privacy and continued to hold my hand under the table, trying to provide me with some comfort.

As the weeks went by, the pressure on us continued to mount. We were both exhausted from the constant scrutiny and the relentless invasion of our privacy. But through it all, Hakim remained unwavering in his commitment to me. He was determined to protect me, even if it meant sacrificing some of his own freedom.

One evening, as we sat together on our balcony, overlooking the beautiful Türkiye skyline, Hakim turned to me with a soft smile. "I know this has been tough, Y/N," he said, his eyes filled with love and exhaustion. "But I promise you, we'll get through this. And no matter what happens, I'll always be by your side."

I leaned in and kissed him, grateful for his unwavering support. Our love was a secret no more, but it was stronger than ever. Together, we faced the challenges that came our way, navigating the storm of paparazzi and public attention, and emerging from it all with a love that was unbreakable.

#football imagine #football oneshots #football oneshot #football one shot #football blurb #hakim ziyech x reader #hakim ziyech imagine

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generic-whumperz · 4 days

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The Aid: Chapter 9–Special Sauce (Part 1)

Full list of general conent warnings here.

No additonal chapter CWs for once! This is the lighter part in The Aid’s (Whumpee) POV. This is about as ‘nice’ Wyatt gets!

Aid’s abilities: EMPATHIC READING | ‘premonition/intuition’

Word count: 1,220

<-Previus | Masterlist | Next->

Wyatt disappeared into The Aid’s adjoined walk-in closet—this door, too, was ripped off its hinges. Doors represented privacy and privacy alone, and that was a thing reserved only for free people.

But the lack of a physical barrier didn’t mean there wasn’t one at all—The Aid’s prison bars were invisible, his freedom nothing more than a taunting illusion.

A state-of-the-art satellite GPS device preinstalled with geofencing software was connected to The Aid’s RFID implants. Every square inch of the house and surrounding property was uploaded to the device’s database and accounted for, his every movement tracked and documented. The device pinged and lit up with an alert if he crossed a room’s perimeter without prior authorization. He couldn’t go to the bathroom or have a mental breakdown in the comfort of his closet—muffling his sobs in cashmere sweaters and Himalayan wool— without Wyatt knowing about it.

Wyatt shuffled around some hangers, stomped into the connected bedroom, and slammed around some drawers with the usual amount of curses and huffing, then reappeared with an armful of The Aid’s clothes.

“I ain’t putting ya’r fucking chonies on for ya. I don’t care how to beat to hell ya are.” Wyatt handed him a clean pair of boxers, sat the rest of the garments on the counter, and then rummaged through the first aid caddy. The Aid—more than happy to oblige—as quickly as his broken body would allow, slid on his underwear beneath the safety of the towel covering his lower body.

He was running out of gas, and quick. The long-awaited suppression of feelings warmed him in what little way it could. The Klonopin was behind schedule this morning, but it finally arrived at the station—all aboard the Numb Dumb Express, destination: Apathy.

He kept his head down, staring only at the plaid squares decorating his boxers while Wyatt started re-bandaging his wounds. He couldn’t risk another mirror encounter with his demonic parasite or bring himself to look at Wyatt’s dumb face any longer, hence his sudden fixation on such a worn pattern. His eyes ran the length of the geometric lines and he debated color theory—his way of fighting off the swarm of monotonous fears. ‘Why were men’s undergarments always so drab and boring? Did the fashion industry think shades of earth tones defined masculinity?’

The Aid’s wavering focus floated upright, he dared to break the silence with a question. “Sir, do you miss Madame Eleanor?”

Wyatt stopped mid-peel of the gauze pad wrapper and blew a harsh puff through his nose. His head swiveled to face his servant to exchange a long, unbroken stare. Wyatt’s lip twitched as his eyes swam with sorrowfully churned emotions. He turned back to the spread of medical supplies on the counter, plucking the gauze pad between the two strips of wrapper, and sighed.

“She was my mom, Pup,” he said quietly. Not a growl. Not a hiss. Not a grumble. Just a plain voice with a twinge of reminiscent sadness. The Aid didn’t often see Wyatt like this, vulnerable and showing him something other than his infamous brand of wrath or obscene mockery.

The Aid felt sadness, too, a deep, grieving sadness. He would never admit it out loud, and certainly never to Wyatt, but the empty void left in his heart from his Madame’s passing oftentimes surpassed the grief of losing his own flesh and blood. Maybe it was recency bias. Maybe it was the guilt gnawing at him and a need for redemption instead of plain grieving heartache eclipsing his mourning when it came to the fatal accident costing the lives of his Dad and older sister. Maybe—probably, it was a combination of both.

What was supposed only to be a thought slipped from his mouth, “You never talk about her...”

Wyatt side-eyed him. His eyebrows scrunched together as the unmistakable flush of irritation needled his features.

Time to course correct. “I miss her too—”

“Why?” Wyatt snapped. Distress marinated beneath the word, piping hot and steamy.

“I served her for five years—”

“If she died after a year of ya knowing her, would ya grieve her just the same as ya are now?” Wyatt interrupted, turning back around, cold eyes beaming onto his.

The Aid gulped, his face pinched with concern.

“Yes, Sir,” he said in a feigned confidence he hoped didn’t sound as disingenuous as it felt.

“Ya’ve served me for over a year at this point. Would ya grieve my death?” Wyatt’s voice sharpened to bitter resentment, knowing his servant hated him and preferred his dead mother over him—he had plenty of scars and bite marks to prove The Aid’s detestation towards him just as well.

Whoomp, there it is. And he walked right into it. Fuck.

“In my own way, Sir,” The Aid conjured up on the spot. Not a horrible save; hopefully Wyatt would accept it.

A few agonizing beats passed before his Master’s mouth slanted up into a smirk. Thanks to his winning reply, it looked like he got away Scot-free.

With that, Wyatt held out an open palm and threw a nod at The Aid’s mangled hand—a signal to quite literally hand himself over to him. The Aid complied, dutiful as ever, carefully placing his upturned wrist onto Wyatt’s expectant one. He couldn’t shake the tingles running up his spine accompanying the gesture. Every complaisant movement felt like another shred of agency was peeled off him and devoured by the man in front of him—like he was another step into a never-ending maze as Wyatt watched him fumble in the dark behind a double-sided mirror.

Wyatt surveyed The Aid’s wound stitching on the side of his wrist—much like The Aid did only an hour earlier—before the older man ran his index finger down the scar on The Aid’s palm. Wyatt knew this scar was different; this one meant something. It bound them together in some sick way. A mark illustrating Wyatt laying claim to what was rightfully his and his alone. A memory shared.

A wave of nausea rippled in The Aid’s stomach.

POSSESSION

A sickeningly warm sensation burrowed under his skin, the thing fevers and cold sweats are made of. His mind muddied around the edges, the vibrancy of his internal and external thoughts colored over in a greenish tint. He was too weak to throw up his mental guard rails or to cut the link between him and Wyatt’s emanating emotion. Imprints of emotions he never felt himself firsthand were the ones hardest to shake. Part of him became intrigued, drawn in to the foreignness of it. But most of him—the rational, seasoned parts of him—knew better than to lose himself in the prickly throes of it.

“Ya wouldn’t forget me, would ya?” Wyatt flashed a half-suppressed smile, a viper’s grin.

The Aid warred against the shiver fizzing under his skin from Wyatt’s gliding caress and the emotional baggage that stowed away with it, just as much as he fought to hold in a shuttering sigh.

“Never, Sir,” The Aid’s reply came breathless. It was the inescapable truth. He could never completely shut out the terrors swarming his mind or scratch out the face of the man who caused it all.

‘There’s a forecast of yuck moving in’

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Taglist (first 5 here then the rest in comments because they aren’t tagging right): @sacredwrath @the-name-is-reaper @little-rat-dragon @pirefyrelight @whumpyourdamnpears @3-2-whump @potterhead5ever

If ya wanna be added or removed from the tag list, just let me know! Leave a comment or message me! :)

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forjongseong · 2 years

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tusa // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: secretary!jay x CEO!fem!reader

genre: office!au, angst, fluff, smut (in the end) // warning: older reader; Jay calls reader “Boss”; making out; fingering; oral sex; unprotected sex; creampie; cockwarming // wc: ~11.3k

previous chapters:

part 1 - carmesí part 2 - mi reina part 3 - millones part 3.5 - hasta los dientes part 4 - vente conmigo

next chapters:

click here for the masterlist

summary: you try cruising through your life in the absence of Jay, and although you seem to be doing well, you realize you need him more than you thought.

author’s note: SURPRISE! decided to post this NOW because of the Denimz en-log that just got uploaded I just wanna prolong the Jay fever we all have right now.

this is part 5 of the secretary!Jay series, make sure you have read all the parts above! writing this part was HEARTBREAKING for me because I wasn't used to writing scenes of this couple SEPARATELY. I truly hope this part makes up for the harsh ending in part 4!

the title for this part is based on the hit song by Karol G, in which “Tusa” is Colombian slang for heartache.

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @jaylaxies @hee-pster @jaysbiceps @thots4hee @axartia @spxrklyfairydust @neo-weareone (send an ask if you want to be tagged)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jay was quickly chopping the onions that were prepared since half an hour ago. He had one AirPod in his ear, his loose shirt draping lazily on his body, and a pair of his comfiest slacks. His mother glanced at him for a second while she was stirring broth in a giant pot.

“Slow down,” Jay’s mother calmly called at him. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

All the chopping was done anyway, and Jay did manage to keep himself free from injuries despite working in unnecessary speed. He was used to the fast-paced environment in the office, and he did not know that the habit would merge into his daily life.

It had been just over a week since Jay decided to take a break from work. At first he filed for five days PTO, but then you kept getting notices from Hwiyoung, saying that Jay keeps on extending his leave. You wondered if he was trying to get himself fired, and you seriously considered to do so, but you also did not want to get your personal relationship cloud your decisions at work.

Jay’s safe space was his parents’ house. They lived on the outskirts of the city, away from the traffic and the crowd, and Jay had always envied them for living in such a peaceful environment. They were able to get away with it because Jay’s father had his own company, though not as grand as yours, but this also means that Jay’s parents have the privacy as well as the freedom of working from home.

Having done prepping all the ingredients, Jay cleaned up after himself and made sure the kitchen was spotless even before all the food were served. While he was wiping down the counter, his father walked in, his glasses perched comfortable on the bridge of his nose.

“We got company,” Jay’s father announced, clearing his throat.

Jay frowned at the statement while Jay’s mother quickly shooed him out of the kitchen to go see whatever his father meant by ‘company’. Wiping his hands with a paper towel, Jay strutted to the front door, peeking through the window. He then rushed to open the door, walking out with the inside slippers still on his feet.

His heart was beating unusually fast the moment he spotted your Benz. When Mr. Lee came out of the car, his eyes searched for any other figure, but no one else was inside.

“Park,” Mr. Lee greeted Jay, unsmiling.

“Mr. Lee,” Jay cleared his throat. “I--”

“Listen, Park,” Mr. Lee moved to the trunk of the car to open it. “I’m only here because my family lives nearby, and because Miss L/N asked me very nicely to run an errand for her.”

Jay approached the car and saw that there were different kinds of boxes filled with a variety of food. Fancy fruits, a cooler filled with the best cuts of beef, dry snacks, and everything else. Jay then remembered it was that time of the year when you would send out parcels to each of your employees. Jay knew exactly the budget allocated for each staff, and judging from the stash in front of him, the package for him and his family was way over the budget.

He then remembered how one time, after having dinner with his parents, he went on to tell you how excited his parents were when they went on vacation around the country. He mentioned how his mother was a huge fan of fruits, that there is no fruit she would not eat, while his father had a soft spot for crackers and other dry snacks. Usually you would stick to the same menu and choice of food for every employee, so he wondered why this year you were doing something different. Is this a goodbye set?

“Well don’t just stand there, help me carry all of this in,” Mr. Lee seemed annoyed at how Jay just completely zoned out. Jay came back to his senses and managed to help Mr. Lee unload everything under five minutes.

“Is she doing well?” Jay hesitated as he finally decided to ask Mr. Lee the question of the day.

Mr. Lee smiled. “She’s always doing well. She was fine before you got hired, she’s fine during, and she’s doing well even now. What makes you think differently?”

The tone of Mr. Lee’s speech was soft and calm, much like his demeanor, so why did Jay feel like it stung?

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” Jay looked back to his house as he puts both his hands inside his pockets. “My parents kinda need me right now.”

“Of course,” Mr. Lee nodded. “Family first.”

Jay had no idea how much Mr. Lee knew about what was happening between you and him. He silently hoped that you did not tell him a thing, but Mr. Lee had been acting slightly colder than usual so Jay could not help but think that he must have known.

“I’m being rude. Would you like to come in?” Jay snapped out of it and looked at Mr. Lee hopefully. He wanted to ask more about you since he was not able to find the courage to text you first after he stormed out of your house. Every single communication between the two of you was done through Hwiyoung.

Mr. Lee shook his head politely. “Like I said, Park, I’m just running errands.”

Jay nodded and scratched the back of his head awkwardly, walking Mr. Lee back to the car.

“Will I be seeing you soon?” He asked, looking right into Jay’s eyes.

Jay was honestly unable to come up with a valid answer. He just stared back at Mr. Lee with his mouth slightly agape.

Mr. Lee chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll just ask the Boss.”

After watching your Benz disappear at the end of the road, Jay let out a heavy sigh and turned around to go back inside the house. He saw his parents both standing by the door, in awe of all the food and parcels sitting on their porch.

“Is there an explanation for this?” His mother asked, genuinely curious.

Jay realized that his parents had to know sooner or later, so he took a deep breath before walking towards the front door, his brain searching for the right words to retell the whole thing.

---

Your other car, a black Palisade, pulled up at the lobby of a supermarket that you frequent. Heeseung glanced at you through the rear-view mirror before unlocking the doors.

“I’ll pick you up here in about two hours?” He asked. Weekend grocery runs have been a thing for a while, and since Heeseung officially became your second driver, you’ve been doing more errands on the weekend so not to tire Mr. Lee during the rest of the week.

“Actually,” you locked your phone and leaned in towards the front seat. “Let’s just park and shop together. Would you mind? I don’t feel like pushing the trolley alone.”

Heeseung figured that usually Jay would get your groceries or you would do it together with him, so he was in no position to turn down your request. After a split second of frowning, Heeseung quickly agreed and within minutes the two of you were walking down the aisles of the supermarket.

Every time you picked an item and neatly placed them in the trolley, Heeseung would observe closely. He started making a mental note of everything you were buying that day—from instant ramyeon to boxes of tea, scented candles, and even period products.

“Is everything okay with you and Jay?” Heeseung asked as he started pushing the trolley to follow you to the next aisle.

You chuckled as you browsed the shelf in front of you. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Heeseung leaned comfortably on the handle of the cart, his eyes wide open looking up at you hopefully.

“Do I have a choice or are you going to keep asking me until I tell you anyway?” You placed a jar of jam near the corner of the trolley. Heeseung eyed the countless products that were starting to fill up.

“Come on, isn’t that the reason why you wanted me to come along instead of wait around?”

Heeseung had been driving you around for a while and he surprisingly was almost just as good a driver as Mr. Lee. The difference is, since Heeseung is younger, you found it more comfortable to open up to him. Especially since he’s friends with Jay. Each day you spend with Heeseung, you learn something new about Jay.

You ended up telling Heeseung everything, after making him swear that he wouldn’t tell Jay. Throughout the whole process, you avoided eye contact and only glanced at Heeseung whenever necessary, as you were determined to focus on your grocery shopping. You misspoke a couple of words and almost bought the wrong type of pasta sauce because you were so passionate in telling your story. Heeseung just chuckled and nodded all the way, holding his eye contact to let you know he was intently listening.

“So it’s technically my fault,” you said as you wrapped up. “Right?”

“Uhm, I would say,” Heeseung stood up straight as he looked up to think. “It’s not not your fault.”

“So what do you think?” You asked Heeseung, standing with your arms crossed in front of you and for some reason, Heeseung just laughed softly.

“Look, I really don’t wanna put words in his mouth,” Heeseung raised a hand, trying to show his intentions. “But hearing everything from you, and knowing how Jay is, I think I get why he acted that way.”

You tilted your head. “So you know he’s a future person?”

Heeseung nodded. You turned around to continue to walk and Heeseung scrambled to get the trolley and follow you.

“Relationships aren’t like business, Heeseung. Every decision I make for my company is carefully calculated, we have the resources to predict outcomes and prepare ourselves for the future. But when it comes to relationships…”

You paused to look back at Heeseung, making sure he was following. He blinked in anticipation, waiting for you to continue.

“I can’t predict shit. Plans go wrong. People change.”

“Have you told him that? I mean what you’re telling me right now,” Heeseung took a couple steps ahead to catch up with you.

You shrugged. “Pretty sure it’s gonna end up in another argument and I don’t want to have a conversation with him where he raises his voice.”

“Fair,” Heeseung responded calmly. “So your plan is to just, keep doing this, maintain the relationship?”

“If I can, yeah.”

“But you know that if you keep doing this, whatever this is, it will still take you into the future, right?”

You did not answer Heeseung’s question because you figured it was rhetorical, but the next question made you think even harder.

“Do you see him in your future?”

Your mind went blank. You tried picturing Jay, but having not seen him for so long, you were struggling. Even with the work in the office, which had mostly been managed by Hwiyoung since Jay took his leave, you were beginning to get used to the rhythm and his absence. Did you not need Jay anymore?

“It’s not about him,” you finally squeaked an answer. “I’m concerned about me.”

“What are you afraid of?”

You were now beginning to regret asking Heeseung to accompany you shop. He was now acting like a therapist, and the way the questions he asked you were the exact questions you had asked yourself before made you feel goosebumps. Heeseung was a lot like you.

Heeseung noticed that your face started to get tense, so he cleared his throat and straightened his pose. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to answer that. Let’s just continue shopping.”

Through the rest of the day Heeseung tried his best to distract you and crack jokes, even telling stories about Jake and Sunghoon’s antics for the past couple of days. You were exhausted by the time you arrived at your place. Heeseung helped you carry all your groceries and when he was done storing things, he excused himself.

After changing your clothes, you decided to lie down in your bedroom, mindlessly scrolling on your phone. You rolled over to the right side of your bed, where Jay used to sleep. You caught a whiff of his scent from the pillowcase and you froze. Feelings start to overwhelm you and in just seconds, your mood tanked. You tried distracting yourself by scrolling your social media, but your vision started to get blurry from the tears.

Eventually you gave in, letting your tears fall sideways to your pillow, softly sobbing as you closed your eyes.

---

The second week without Jay went by in an instant. Making Hwiyoung your second assistant was the second best decision you have ever made, even though you made it way before Jay left. Hwiyoung was just as capable as Jay in terms of juggling different projects, keeping up with your schedule, and running the little errands in your life.

You were going through a document in your hands, the thick pages feeling heavy in your hands. When you tried turning the pages, you got a paper cut from how swift your finger moved at the edges, and you quickly dropped the document with a loud thud on your desk. You hissed as you examined your middle finger, seeing a thin line of bright red beginning to appear on your skin.

Your first aid kit was located in your bathroom, so you moved around your desk to rush there. On your way, though, you bumped your knee on the side of your desk, again making a loud thud.

“Fuck!”

A couple of seconds later, Hwiyoung peeked from outside your door.

“Miss?” He called for you, sounding worried. He saw you wincing and rubbing your knee with one hand, while your other hand was held up awkwardly to not make the paper cut worse.

For a while Hwiyoung just stood there frozen, not knowing what to do since he had never seen you in a position where you were hurt.

“First aid, bathroom,” you said in a low voice as you staggered to the sofa in the center of the office. Hwiyoung turned his heel and went to your bathroom to retrieve the kit.

He then settled it right in front of you and stood back up, observing you. You knew he was being respectful and just waiting for your instructions, but at that moment you missed Jay’s instant reflexes and how quick he would react to whenever you needed assistance, no matter what kind.

You rummaged the box with one free hand and noticed that the particular ointment for bruises were not in the kit. You sighed and looked up at Hwiyoung. Instantly, he stood up straight, ready to listen. You picked up a post-it and quickly wrote the name of the ointment and gave it to Hwiyoung.

“Get this and a couple of band-aids while you’re at it,” you ordered. Hwiyoung nodded, but then it looked like he was hesitating. “What?”

“Park just texted me and said he’s extending his leave for another week,” Hwiyoung informed you, almost sounding like it was his fault.

“Okay,” you responded fairly quickly. “You’re still able to cover for him, right? You’re doing a great job so far.”

Hwiyoung smiled shyly, his gummy smile beaming through. “Thanks, Miss. I’ll do my best.”

You nodded and tilted your chin towards the door, signaling him to go run the errand you just asked for. You then continued to soothe yourself by rubbing your knee, and while looking down your eyes fall to your feet. You were wearing the Chanel slingbacks Jay got for you, and you noticed they were getting dirty. You made a mental note to take it to the shoe spa for a second time and to not wear it again after it is cleaned.

---

Ever since Jay told his parents about his relationship with you, he had been spending more time outside of home. His parents had opposing opinions—his father being completely understanding about your situation, and seeing Jay as the one who was at fault, while his mother siding with Jay and putting, almost the entire blame, on you. The two of them ended up arguing with each other, and Jay felt bad for being the cause of yet another drama, so he would try his best to find activities to do away from his parents.

It sometimes backfired, though. Because the more Jay went out to get rid of the thoughts of you, the more things kept reminding him of you.

Jogging alongside the river, he saw a couple of cats lounging in the sun, and his immediate reaction was to take a picture from a safe distance to send to you. When ordering a drink at a café, he mentioned your favorite drink instead of his own, and ended up sitting in a corner staring at the cold beverage for a solid minute before deciding to just drink it.

Jay couldn’t deny how much of your personal life has blended into his. Before you took your relationship to the next level, he was content with doing all his duties as your secretary, making sure your every need was taken care of professionally. When you started sleeping together, he extended his gestures of attention and almost felt like he lived to serve you.

Maybe that was what went wrong, he thought. He had always put you on a pedestal, and although you deserved that spot, it was detrimental to him. It’s not like you never cared about him, though. You showed your love in different ways, and he made sure to acknowledge them. But the more he continues to work as your assistant and your boyfriend out of work, the more he started to question if this whole thing was even doable.

He wanted to be on your level, but he also wanted to serve you. He wanted to be your boyfriend and let the relationship go public, but he also did not want to lose his job as your assistant. He wanted to talk to you about your relationship, but he also did not want the conversation to spiral into an even worse fight.

Jay then started thinking what you would want him to do, but that only made his brain short circuit. He kept mixing the idea of what you want him to do with what he actually wanted to do. Thinking about all of this gave him a headache, so he decided to just sit back and let you do your thing.

His decision was to wait for you to contact him first.

---

Taehyung’s jazz club was more crowded than usual. You decided to visit even after asking him if he was going to be there and he said no. He did mention nonchalantly how, on Thursdays, there’s an open mic for guests who want to try and sing out their hearts. You thought it would be fun to go watch whatever goes down at the club that night, so Heeseung dropped you off and left to wait for you someplace else.

It was one of the best decisions you have made this week. Although there was a huge crowd, people were still very respectful and the music was good, played at a volume that allowed others to talk and hear each other. You were so engrossed in the open mic, listening intently to every single guest that tried singing a song of their choice. The last singer in particular made your heartstrings tug and you swore you almost cried from how beautiful he sounded.

You decided to get another drink from the bar and while you were waiting for your order, you felt someone looking at you. You glanced to your side and met eyes with a young man. He had longer hair that sort of looked like it was dyed red but has now faded. His features were a little sharp, his cheekbones prominent and his neck looking longer than average. He nodded to you once and smiled, holding up his glass. When your bartender gave you your order, you saw two glasses set in front of you.

You looked at your bartender, questioning him and he gestured to the man who was looking at you. It then registered that the extra drink was ordered by him, and you swiftly took both drinks in your hand, walking over to the guy.

“Hi,” he said with a smile as he welcomed you to sit on the stool next to him.

“I’m sure you’re a very nice guy,” you slid the drink he ordered to his side. “Mister…?”

“Jinyoung,” he chuckled lightly, amused that you asked for his name first.

“Jinyoung. I’m sorry but I don’t take drinks from strangers,” you smiled apologetically and tapped your finger twice beside the glass before retracting your hand.

Jinyoung frowned and took a second to formulate a respond. “That’s it?”

You were about to turn around but you stopped to look back at him. “I’m sorry?”

“I don’t even get a chance? Not even a hello?” Jinyoung brushed his hair back and adjusted his seat. You were beginning to feel a little intimidated.

You tried thinking of all the possible answers and excuses that might get him to stop trying to talk to you, but the sound of music and murmurs from the people around you were making it hard to even say one word.

“I’m sorry,” you ended up stating again, even though you weren’t actually sorry. “I’m flattered, but I can’t.”

You went back to your seat and tried pacing yourself drinking your order. You wanted to get out of the place as fast as you can since you were already feeling uncomfortable, so when you paid and said goodbye to the bartender, you made your way out.

What you did not notice is Jinyoung following you from a distance. He kept his eyes on you with every movement you made, and when you stepped out the door and walked down the empty street, he caught up to you.

“Come on,” he said, almost a whisper and almost making you yell profanities from how surprised you were. “At least tell me your name.”

“I just really can’t right now,” your voice was hushed and you were trying not to sound afraid.

You gave him an apologetic smile before turning around, but he grabbed your wrist forcefully and you got yanked backwards. The next thing that happened went too fast.

Your wrist was pulled free by some other guy who then proceeded to punch Jinyoung right on his jaw. Surprisingly, Jinyoung did not fall back and instead retaliated, landing a punch on Jay’s face.

Before the two of them got into a bigger brawl, you screamed Jay’s name as you saw him begin to get aggressive. At this point, Jinyoung was on the ground and Jay was grabbing his collar, ready to land yet another blow.

You quickly grabbed his arm to pull him back, letting Jinyoung fall limply to the pavement. You looked around and noticed that nobody was there to witness the fight, so you linked your hand with Jay’s and started dragging him away, as far as you could.

Reaching into your pocket, you fished for your phone and quickly dialed Heeseung’s number, demanding him to pick you up. You kept on walking with Jay’s hand in yours until you reached the meet up point.

“Are you hurt?”

You couldn’t believe what came out of his mouth after what just happened. You shift your gaze to look at him and saw his lip torn in the corner, and a bruise beginning to show near his jaw. Not knowing what to say as a response, you quietly thanked the gods when you saw your Benz pulling up. Immediately, you opened the door and practically shoved Jay inside before getting in yourself.

“Dude…” uttered Heeseung as he caught a glimpse of Jay’s face. He had a thousand questions in his mind but he decided to keep it for later.

“Your place, Miss?” Heeseung looked at you through the rear-view mirror.

You shook your head.

“Yours.”

---

The door to Jay’s room was opened. You can hear Sunghoon, Jake, and Heeseung’s mumbled voice as they talked outside by the kitchen, Heeseung retelling the events that happened less than two hours ago.

You were done tending to Jay’s scars and wounds on his hands. He was wearing rings and when he fought the guy, and his rings had cut through parts of his skin. Jay stayed silent the whole time you were busy with the first aid kit.

Taking a deep breath, you looked up to observe his face. You caught him looking at you for a split second before he blinked and quickly focused his eyes on something else. You brought one hand to graze your fingers over his jaw and examine the tear on his lip. Jay closed his eyes when he felt your touch, his jaw clenching when you applied ointment to his wound using a cotton bud.

“You didn’t answer me,” he said under his breath, keeping his eyes closed.

You looked into his eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “Don’t speak yet.”

You continued to observe his face, tilting it sideways by setting your hand on his chin. He let you move his face around, and although he looked serious, he was dying inside from having to suppress the feeling of wanting to just pull you into his embrace.

“What were you doing?” You sighed as you begin to clean up after yourself, putting the used cotton pads away and placing the other items back in the kit.

“I went to the club to get some air.”

“You’re back from vacation?”

“I just got back yesterday.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I told Hwiyoung.”

You paused for a second before tidying up again. It had been a while since you and Jay were in close proximity and to tell the truth, your heart was beating faster than it should. You were unsure about the reason, though. Was it because he caused a scene? Or was it because he happened to be there and attended to your needs, as he always does?

“I asked if he hurt you,” Jay added when he noticed you weren’t saying anything back.

“I’m fine, okay? I dragged you away, I called Heeseung, and we’re back at your place. Isn’t that enough proof that I’m okay?”

The way you snapped caught him off guard. He did not want you to get the wrong idea, so he was treading lightly with his words. However, with the stinging pain that he could feel in his hands, as well as the uncontrollable beating of his heart, he ended up deciding to match your energy.

“Well, that’s a relief,” he stood up and you flinched from the sudden movement. He walked over to his closet and started unbuttoning his top. “Thanks for taking care of me. You should leave before it gets too late.”

Not wanting to let him see your face redden and your breath going heavy, you stormed out of his room, startling the three guys in the kitchen. Heeseung scrambled to get the car keys on the counter and quickly followed right after you, walking out the front door.

Heeseung knew you wanted to get home right away, so he overtook you and started walking in front of you down the hallway. Soon after, you stopped in your tracks and looked down, sobbing. Heeseung noticed this and turned around, walking towards you. He stopped in front of you, waiting patiently for you to compose yourself. When you were done sniffling, he calmly put his finger under your chin, tilting your head up, and patting your shoulder gently to make you walk again. You shook your head and got it together quickly and started leading Heeseung back to your car.

---

Fail fast. You had this advice in your pocket for as long as you could remember. One time you were watching your favorite YouTuber do a story time, and she mentioned how one of her mother’s best advice was to fail fast—every time something bad happens, you’re allowed to feel angry or sad, but then quickly pick yourself up and move on.

You failed fast often, in this case. Whenever your feelings become too overwhelming, your last resort was to cry yourself to sleep to numb all the pain. By the time the sun rises, you’d be ready to face the day and tackle whatever challenge life brings you. Denying how much you miss Jay would be stupid at this point, so you’d let yourself drown in melancholy whenever you feel like it, and then distract yourself by getting all your tasks done.

One of the ways you chose to do to get rid of loneliness was to contact and reach out to old friends that you barely even talk to lately. Most of the time they were delighted that you texted them first to ask for a meet up, but because your college friends were mostly your age, they were often busier than you. They didn’t have the luxury of hanging out late on a weekday night since they don’t own a company like you, so it took a while for you to find someone available to talk to that night.

You ended up meeting Jieun at a hotel restaurant after work. She was one of your college friends who never judged you back then, nor was she ever intimidated by you. If anything, you thought you and her share some similarities. After treating her dinner and talking for hours, you noticed that it was already 11 PM. She mentioned how she had an early morning the next day, so you quickly said goodbye and thanked her for the quality time.

Mr. Lee drove you back home within thirty minutes. You were exhausted from all the catching up so you did not wait too long to take a shower. Once you were all done with your skincare, you lied on your bed and scrolled your phone. You started to feel a sharp, stinging pain on the right side of your lower stomach. Feeling unusual, you checked your cycle in the app on your phone and you figured that it was almost that time of the month. You dismissed the pain and decided to sleep it off.

The stabbing pain kept waking you up, though. You did not want to wake up in a pool of blood, so you went to the bathroom to check if you got your period. You did not, and it was a false alarm, so you tried to force yourself to sleep. Your efforts were wasted and although you tried your best changing your positions to suppress the pain, you could still feel it shooting inside. You knew you didn’t have painkillers, and knowing that it was already late you refrained from contacting Hwiyoung to run a simple errand.

Just to make sure, you went to the bathroom to check again. The pain was killing you and you tried to breathe in and out deeply. You stood back up after sitting on the toilet and the next thing you know you were on the floor, facing the ceiling. You passed out, and the one thing that made you regain your consciousness was the damp feeling behind your head. You got up, touching the back of your head and noticing that it wasn’t blood, but the water droplets from the wet floor of your bathroom.

Picking up a new towel, you staggered to your bed, laid the towel flat so not to make your covers damp, and lied back down. You reached for your phone and started going through your contacts, unsure of who to call.

You called the first person in your speed dial, Jay. You let it ring for a couple of times but he never picked up. You checked the time and it was five minutes past 3 AM. You then called Isa, who was all the way in London and would basically be unable to do anything for you, but you realize to keep yourself conscious you needed to talk to someone. She did not pick up. You called Yoon, and although this time she would usually be awake, she did not pick up either. You hesitated for a while, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you can hold in the pain and just force yourself to sleep again. But for one last time, you called Jay, and after two rings he picked up.

“Hello?” Jay answered on the other side. He sounded groggy, but it did not sound like he was sleeping.

“I passed out in the bathroom and I think I hit my head. Can you come over?”

What you heard next was a mixture of panic, stuttering, and sounds of pure chaos. Jay asked where you were, confirming that you were at home, and you could hear him banging on Heeseung’s door, telling him to wake up and drive him to you.

“I’m on my way,” Jay said under his breath. He sounded like he was running. “Stay awake, okay?”

You did not know if Jay arrived as fast as he said or not because you ended up closing your eyes for a while. You woke up to the sound of your phone vibrating, and when you picked it up you heard Jay breathing heavily.

“I can’t get in. Did you change your passcode?” He asked as he inputted the same code and failed.

“It’s your birthday.”

There was silence for a second before you could hear Jay pressing the code to your apartment and the door unlocking. He ended the call and within seconds you saw him standing by your bedroom door.

“My God, Y/N…”

He rushed over to your side and gently touched your head. He felt your damp hair and instantly furrowed.

“It’s not blood,” you reassured him weakly as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

“Heeseung is waiting at the lobby,” Jay quickly grabbed a long coat from the back of your door. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” You frowned, sitting up as Jay gently pulled your arms.

“The hospital,” Jay tried his best to put on your coat for you. “Put your arm around me.”

“I can walk.”

“Please?”

You gave in and let Jay carry you like a bride. He was sweating from all the rushing and running, but you decided to enjoy his warmth that enveloped you. Closing your eyes, you didn’t let his movements bother you. He kept looking down to check on you, worried that if you closed your eyes he might lose you. In the elevators, he looked at you through the reflection. His eyes had a specific color of sadness and regret, and he wanted to ask you every detail about how it happened, but he also did not want to disturb you.

Heeseung held the door to your car open as soon as he saw Jay approaching with you in his arms. Jay carefully sat you in your car, not forgetting to put a neck pillow around you to keep your head from bumping to the sides. He sat next to you and started massaging your hands as Heeseung drove as fast as he could.

“You don’t need to speed,” you murmured, looking at Heeseung. He glanced at you through the rear-view mirror.

“Don’t worry, I’m driving safe,” he reassured you and you could see him smiling by the way his eyes crinkled.

You arrived at the hospital, right in front of the emergency unit that was thankfully empty. You insisted that you could walk, so Jay kept one hand around your waist to keep you steady. After telling the nurse what happened, they took you to one of the beds and started administering painkillers.

Jay stayed silent beside you the whole time. He was holding your phone because you did not want to leave it when he carried you out of your bedroom, and he noticed a couple of notifications blowing up your phone. It took a while for the nurses to find the vein in your hand, having both your hands stabbed twice until they could finally insert the IV drip.

When the doctor came to ask you questions, aside from the topic of your period, Jay answered everything else regarding your health. He knew the meds and vitamins that you had been taking, he knew your allergies and everything else. The doctor then said that it was best for you to get an MRI scan since you did mention that you hit your head and there was no witness to clarify how hard you hit it or where exactly you bumped your head.

The staff brought a wheelchair for you and Jay helped you get off the bed and sit in the chair. He pushed you all the way to the MRI scan, took off your necklace and your earrings and kept it in his pockets while he waited until your scan was over. You had to wait for the results, and when you were back on the bed you asked for your phone. He wanted to refuse initially, but he then thought it would be a nice distraction for you, so he gave you your phone and took out his own.

He began scrolling on his phone as you started responding to your friends. Isa and Yoon were panicking in your group chat, and once you told them everything they both apologized for not picking up your call. Soon after, the doctor came in with the results for your blood test and MRI scan, claiming that there was nothing to worry about and it was indeed just intense pre-menstruation cramps.

On the car ride home, Heeseung drove much slower than before. He glanced at you once, making sure that you were comfortable.

“I’m sorry,” said Jay, breaking the silence. “I should have picked up the first time you called.”

“Don’t,” you replied, closing your eyes.

“What?”

“Stop making me feel like I need you,” you fixed the position of your neck pillow and leaned to your side.

Jay sighed. “Is there anything wrong with that?”

Heeseung pulled up at your place just in time for you to dodge Jay’s question. You opened your door as soon as your car stopped, and Jay got out of his seat and rushed to your side.

“Don’t wait up, I need to make sure she’s settled,” Jay told Heeseung, leaning down to talk to him.

Heeseung nodded. “Take care.”

Although you were sure you could walk, you still needed support. You clung to Jay’s arm, keeping him close as he matched your pace, walking slowly to your apartment. Once you reached your door, you let go, and you swore you could see him smile as he typed in his birthday as the passcode. He opened the door for you and you walked in, heading straight for your bedroom.

“You have some pills to take, should I make something for you to eat?” Jay asked, trailing behind you.

You shook your head. “I’m not hungry yet.”

Jay shuffled towards your bathroom and you heard water running just as you were about to change your clothes.

“I’m drawing you a bath. I’m pretty sure you’ll be hungry after.”

You were too tired to protest, and to be honest you really missed the attention from Jay. Still, you felt like a burden, so you tried refusing at first.

“You don’t really need to--”

“Will you just let me take care of you?” Jay walked towards you, closing the distance as he raised one hand to caress your face. “Please.”

You looked down and nodded, knowing full well that if you stared back at him you were going to cry. He kissed the top of your head gently and disappeared into the bathroom. While waiting, you checked the time and noticed it was almost 6 AM.

Once the water was almost full, Jay called for you. He stayed and even helped you undress, holding one arm for you as you carefully slipped into the bathtub. He then left you alone, insisting that he make something for you to eat. You didn’t bathe for too long since you noticed Jay was right, you found your stomach rumbling and begging to be fed. After fifteen minutes, you drained the water and dried yourself, quickly getting dressed to go to the kitchen.

You walked out just in time, seeing Jay plate the jjajang noodles and carry it to the counter. He made your favorite type of instant noodles, one that you made sure was always stocked at home.

“Here,” Jay served the plate to you and also a glass of cold water. He then excused himself to wash up and let you eat in peace.

You kept yourself company by watching random YouTube videos on your phone as you ate up your early meal. When you were done, you cleaned up after yourself and even took all the pills the doctor prescribed for you earlier. Jay came out wearing the same outfit he had on before—his black joggers, a white sleeveless, and a navy flannel.

“You’re done?” He asked, slightly surprised. He knew you were a fast eater but he didn’t expect you to be that fast. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

You always feel sleepy after a big meal so your answer to his question was a simple nod. He turned back around to make your bed and pulled the blankets away to let you slide in.

“I already texted Hwiyoung,” Jay said as he tucked you in. “Everything is under control, but just to make sure, I’m gonna-”

“Can you please stay?”

Hearing this made Jay soften his gaze on you. He set his phone to mute and put it on your end table.

“Where do you want me?” He asked.

“Your side of the bed,” you answered, turning to face the right.

Jay sighed and walked over to his side, taking his flannel off before joining you under the covers. He stretched out his arm and you immediately shifted towards him, covering yourself in his embrace. His hand found your shoulder and squeezed it gently, at the same time his other hand started stroking your hair.

“Thank you,” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, your hands clutching his shirt.

Jay responded with a hum before leaning in to kiss the top of your head. With that, you drifted off to sleep at ease.

---

You woke up hours later completely sprawled on your bed, one leg sticking out of the covers, your hair a complete mess, and your t-shirt riding up to your boobs. You blinked twice and realized that Jay had left his spot. You closed your eyes again to try and make out if there was sound outside, but you heard nothing.

As you pulled the covers away from your body, you sat up and saw your phone on the end table sitting on top of a piece of paper. You squinted your eyes and reach for your phone, eventually identifying the piece of paper as a handwritten letter.

Y/N,

I didn’t want to wake you up since I know you’ve lost hours of sleep last night. I’m sorry I left without telling you.

By the time you wake up, I’ll probably be at the office. I’m gonna ask Hwiyoung to help me catch up with all the work I’ve missed while I was gone.

Take the day off and take your time doing your activities, okay? I’ll handle all your work in the meantime.

Yours, Jay

Your stomach did a flip when you read the last words of Jay’s letter. He could have texted you or left a simple post-it on your table, but he went out of his way to write a whole letter. You heart felt full and immediately you were already feeling better. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed that it was two in the afternoon.

You decided to order something for lunch instead of going out or making something on your own, but after washing your face and brushing your teeth, you walked to your kitchen only to find several plates with food on it covered by a transparent lid.

On the counter, there’s a post-it note that said ‘Reheat before eating, --J.’. You pouted and uncovered the food. There was corn and chicken cream soup and a smaller plate with omelette and sausages. It seemed like Jay predicted you would wake up earlier, hence the brunch-like menu. Since the last time you ate was more than six hours ago, you heeded the advice on the note and heated up your meal, quickly devouring it under twenty minutes.

You spent the rest of the day out and about. Mr. Lee looked genuinely concerned when you hopped into your car, having only been informed about your incident just hours before. You insisted that you were fine, and after doing simple errands you realized it wasn’t even dark yet, so you decided to stop by the office.

Your hair was tied up into a ponytail and you were wearing a casual light blue button-down tucked into your skinny jeans. When you arrived at the office, your staff were surprised to see you since they heard from Hwiyoung that you were taking the day off. Some of them expressed their concerns and after thanking them for asking, you made your way to Hwiyoung’s desk.

“Where’s Park?” You asked, not giving Hwiyoung a chance to even ask how you were doing.

Hwiyoung merely pointed to your door, signaling that Jay was inside.

“Are you already feeling better, Miss?” Hwiyoung called out to you before you reached for the door.

“I am,” you answered with a smile. “Thanks, Hwiyoung.”

You knocked on your door once before pushing it open and letting yourself inside. Jay was sitting at your desk, holding a phone to his ear and speaking in a language that at first sounded foreign to you, but then you quickly identified as Japanese. He swiveled in his seat and then locked eyes with you, immediately making a frown on his face. He held up a hand to let you know that he needed to wrap up the call, and as soon as he was done he jumped out of his seat and rushed to you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, gently placing his hands on both sides of your arms. “Did you get enough rest?”

“Was that Japan? Our deal with them has been sitting for days,” you glanced at your desk and saw documents spread out, as well as your computer screen showing dozens of different tabs.

“Yeah, I took care of it,” Jay replied nonchalantly. “Seriously, what are you doing here?”

“Stop worrying, I’m fine,” you cooed at him, bringing one hand to rest on his cheek. “I just wanted to come see you and thank you properly. And apologize too.”

He wrapped his hand around yours, bringing it down for him to squeeze. “Apologize?”

“I’ve said stuff I didn’t mean that ended up driving you away.”

Jay chuckled softly. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing for leaving you all alone.”

“I mean, at work it’s been fine, Hwiyoung is an astute assistant.”

You said this jokingly, pouting as you glanced to your door, referring to the guy who had singlehandedly helped you keep the ship afloat. Jay clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. What about at home?” He asked, this time taking a step back and crossing his arms in front of him.

You paused for a second before taking a deep breath. “Miserable.”

Jay immediately reached out his hands to your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. You snake your arms around him and sighed into the crook of his neck.

“Can you come back to work?” Your voice squeaked as you tried to keep it low.

“Already doing it now, Boss,” Jay answered with a smirk.

“Can you come back home?” You asked again.

Jay rested his chin on top of your head. You could feel him gulp before he spoke.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m already back home,” he said, tightening his grip around your waist.

“I mean move in with me.”

Jay had to pull himself back to look you in the eyes. You frowned because you didn’t get an instant answer.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” He inquired, searching for confirmation in your eyes.

You kept your frown and stared back at him. “Do you not want to?”

“I would love to,” Jay responded without missing a beat. “But it does seem sudden. And unplanned.”

“The boss you see at work is not the same as the woman you’re dating, Park,” you said, huffing to get the strands of hair out of your face.

Jay chuckled. “Can you explain what you mean? I’m not following.”

You sighed and broke out of his embrace to walk over to your desk. You then sat on your chair and after getting a quick glance on the documents on your desk, you started tidying them up.

“You’re a planner, I’m a doer. You think of the future, and I focus on the present. With the right rhythm we can make it work. What I’m doing now is asking you to do what I want now.”

Jay stood in his place as he stared at you, intently listening to every single word you were saying.

“If you ask me if I need you at work, I don’t. I’m perfectly capable and I have a terrific team. If you ask me if I need you outside of work, technically I don’t either. Unless an emergency happens, then yeah, I might need you.”

Jay looked at you with a where-are-you-going-with-this look on his face. You continued clearing out your desk.

“But if you ask me what I want, I can answer it now,” you were finally done and you leaned back on your chair, bringing one leg up to sit comfortably. “I want you. I like it better with you around.”

Jay’s gaze softened as a genuine smile started to form along the lines of his lips. He walked over to you slowly, feet dragging lazily before he finally reached your side. He leaned to the desk and slightly sat on the edge comfortably, resting his hands beside his thighs.

“You need to say something,” you started to swivel your chair, getting restless as he had been quiet for some time. Jay only looked at you with eyes full of love, but the silence was killing you and you decided to stand up to walk to your mini bar.

As you passed him, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you just enough for you to fall back, with him resting one hand on your waist and making you stand in between his legs.

“I’d walk through fire for you,” he said, eyes staring into your soul.

You almost snorted as you held in a chuckle. “Okay?” You replied, unsure.

“I will be wherever you want me to be. As long as it makes you happy,” Jay brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. The action would always make you melt.

“But are you happy?” You asked, genuinely concerned.

Jay was slightly taken aback at the question, but the answer to it he found easy. He moved his hand and rested it on your neck, gently pulling you into him for a kiss. You sighed into his mouth, letting his lips greet yours in a way that was almost like a reunion. You tilted your head and leaned into him more, and he groaned as he could feel your breasts pressing against his chest. Both your lips made soft, smacking sounds and the two of you were so into it that you didn’t realize the door opening slowly.

“Hey, Park, I just wanted to ask—Oh, shit.”

Jay practically jumped from your desk and took two steps away from you, wiping off the stain of your lipstick from his lips. You closed your eyes in annoyance, blaming yourself for not locking the door when you came in. You pressed your lips together and looked at the figure by the door.

“Yes, Hwiyoung?” You inquired.

After staring at the floor for so long, Hwiyoung shifted his gaze to look at you. He was still too stunned and speechless that it made you laugh softly. Jay frowned as he looked at you, seemingly still in the same level of shock as Hwiyoung.

“Alright, before you say anything,” you started, raising a hand. “Park and I are dating.”

Jay blinked at you before looking at Hwiyoung, anticipating a reaction. Hwiyoung nodded and brushed his hair back.

“That I know, but I really was not expecting to walk in on you two doing… tongue tango.”

Jay brought his palm to his face and tried covering his embarrassment, but you furrowed your eyebrows and kept your eye contact with Hwiyoung.

“What do you mean you know?” You stood leaning on your desk, prepping yourself up with your palms against the table.

“Well, I, uh… figured,” Hwiyoung hesitated before he took a couple of steps toward you. Jay was now leaning on the bookshelf behind him, waiting for your next order.

“What do you mean you ‘figured’?” You repeated, demanding Hwiyoung to elaborate.

“You call him Jay all the time, you’re with him 24/7, that one time we went glamping, the dance that Keeho and Yeji told me about… Oh…”

Hwiyoung brought one hand to cover his mouth when he realized he let two names slip. “Keeho and Yeji have suspected for a while too, by the way.”

You sighed and looked at Jay, who returned your look only with a big question mark on his face.

“Who else knows?”

“Pretty much just us three, but I feel like the staff have been shipping you for a while anyway. Don’t worry, Miss. We can keep secrets. I won’t let others know,” Hwiyoung quickly regained composure and straightened up his pose.

You waved your hand, dismissing the idea. “It’s fine. If they find out it’s fine. One thing though.”

“Yes, Miss?” Hwiyoung’s eyes widened.

“What happened to knocking? And why were you looking for Jay when I’m clearly in the room too? This is my office.”

Jay snorted and quickly covered his mouth with his hand when he realized he did it too loudly. You shot a questioning glare at him and when you looked back at Hwiyoung, he was bowing as an apology.

“I still need to talk to you,” Hwiyoung looked at Jay. Jay nodded and excused himself.

As soon as Jay reached Hwiyoung’s side, Hwiyoung pointed at the corner of his lip, letting Jay know that there still was lipstick on him. You shook your head as you turned your attention to your computer, your mind thinking of lip product alternatives that are more kiss proof.

---

It was a Wednesday night and you were doing a bit of work on your computer while you wait for Jay to come home from the gym. For some reason you felt so sleepy, but if you left your desk to take a nap, you might end up losing two hours. You set your arm on your desk and hunched your back, resting your forehead on your forearm. You were not sure how long you were asleep, but you woke up from the sound of the door opening.

“Hey,” Jay calmly greeted you as he trotted to your desk. “You look tired.”

You chuckled as you struggle to open your eyes, sitting up straight and swiveling your chair to face Jay. “What a nice way to say I look like shit.”

Stretching your arms, you begged for Jay to hug you. He hesitated, pinching his t-shirt and giving it a sniff.

“I haven’t showered yet,” he said, standing his ground.

“I don’t care,” you said as you stood up, impatient because he never made his way closer to you. You went in for a hug, firmly circling your arms around his waist and he hugged you back tightly, rubbing and squeezing your shoulders.

“Why are you still working?” Jay asked, glancing at your computer but not letting go of you.

“I’m doing more work now so I have less tomorrow,” you mumbled into his chest. Jay chuckled from the vibration. “I’m really tired though and I need a distraction. No, I need something to keep me awake.”

Jay continued to embrace you while gently rubbing your back. “Should I make you something to eat?”

“I think that would make me even sleepier.”

“I’ll make you something to drink then,” Jay carefully pulled himself away from your arms. “Something with caffeine?”

You paused for a while to take in the view. Jay’s jet black, fluffy hair was slightly damp from sweat. His chain necklace was nowhere to be found, and his white tee smelled like a mixture of his cologne and his natural body odor. The way you observed him just heightened your senses, and just like that you started to feel awake.

You shook your head. “Have a seat, I’ll make something for you instead.”

Jay tilted his head in confusion but obliged when you made him sit on your chair. Turning his attention to your computer, he let you walk away to the kitchen. You came back in minutes, holding two mugs of iced tea and setting it on your desk with a coaster. Jay took his mug and leaned in to give you a peck on your cheek as a thank you before taking a sip. Once he was done, you looked at your screen and saw that he had continued the work you left off.

“You didn’t need to do that,” you protested, bending over to snatch the mouse out of his hand, scrolling the screen.

Jay licked his lips. “You didn’t need to make me a drink but you did anyway.”

“That’s different,” you fixed the glasses perched on your nose as you started typing, still bent over.

Jay took the initiative to pull you by the waist, making you sit on his lap. When you squeaked from the surprise, he chuckled and planted a chaste kiss on the back of your neck.

“You said you needed help staying awake, right?” Jay whispered right into your ear.

“Mm-hm,” you murmured, stretching your shoulders as you feel him flex behind you.

Jay started rubbing your waist gently. You sighed as you gradually melted into his touch, letting his hands run to other places. He snuck a hand under your t-shirt and reached your breasts, massaging your right tit as his other hand traveled downwards.

“Jay…” you breathed out, leaning back to his chest.

“Don’t mind me,” he replied. “Just continue.”

You tried your best concentrating on the opened document on your screen while you could feel Jay’s fingers grazing the outside of your folds. At first, he was touching you through your shorts, but as your whimpers and moans became more audible, he slid his hand underneath, coming in contact with your skin.

Your breath hitched and you quickly gripped his wrist. He reassured you by leaving wet kisses on your neck and down your shoulders, all the while letting his other hand do all the work on your breasts. He started pinching your nipples, adding to the pleasure by also sucking on your skin gently. You felt his teeth grazing your neck and you hissed, closing your eyes to indulge for just a split second.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you said, leaning back and turning your head towards him.

Jay smiled at you and ducked to kiss your lips. You brought one hand to cup his face and keep him steady as you deepened the kiss, desperately running your tongue around the insides of his mouth.

“I’m not even inside you yet,” he mumbled, tapping his thumb on your clit. You stifled a moan and shifted in your seat, finding a way to make him gain more access to your core.

You quickly finished typing and the second you were done, you brought up one hand to grasp Jay by the neck. He sunk his teeth into your neck, kissing and sucking your skin while his fingers worked wonders on and inside you. Your moans became louder as he slid his fingers in and out of you in a faster pace, and as you reached your high you held on to Jay’s arms tightly. You were out of breath, and you almost did not notice him slipping out of you and bringing his fingers towards his mouth, sucking them clean.

“Fully awake now?” Jay asked as he observed the way you were catching your breath. You chuckled lightly, playfully slapping his arm that was still secured around your waist. He loosened his grip and you stood up, taking your t-shirt off so that you were left in just your panties and shorts.

Jay raised an eyebrow at the sight of you and you smiled, leaning in to kiss him sweetly on the cheek. You then pushed the chair he was sitting on a little further so that you can kneel down in front of him. His thighs tensed at the movement, watching you topless and now on your knees, looking like you were about to worship him.

You palm the visible bulge under his sweats and Jay instantly bit his lower lip. To be completely honest, you knew he was already getting hard the moment he put his fingers on you, but he did not say a thing and you were about to reward him for it. You rested your head on the inside of his thigh as you lazily stroked his dick from outside. Jay threw his head back from the pleasure, his hand making its way to your head to brush your hair back.

You missed touching him like this. You thought this was the perfect way to show him how much you loved him, how much you wanted to worship him. You kneeled forward and tugged at his sweats, signaling him to pull his pants down. He did so in an instant, pulling his sweats and boxers down in one go, letting you set them down at his ankles. You then started leaving butterfly kisses along his thigh, and he flexed whenever he felt your kisses a little too wet.

“Fuck,” Jay muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes with one hand and kept another on your head. “Please just suck me off.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the polite request. You continued to plant more kisses as you made your way closer and closer to his crotch. Once you reached his dick, you held it with one hand, immediately feeling it twitch.

“If you say so,” you said as you licked a stripe along his shaft. “My prince.”

Jay let out a loud groan as he felt you putting his dick in your mouth. You closed your eyes to savor his taste, running your tongue around him, letting him thrust into your throat, and sucking the tip of his dick before letting it go with a pop to catch your breath.

He was a moaning mess. His grip on your hair tightened whenever he felt you suck a little harder. You made good use of your hands too, not letting the other parts of his body neglected. Your hand traveled upwards, grazing his chiseled abs before reaching his chest. You did your best to touch him everywhere, making him groan louder and pull your hair even tighter with every stroke he made down your throat. He couldn’t even form the words to tell you that he was close. When he released his load, you froze for a second, taking it in. Carefully, you slid his cock out of your mouth, accidentally letting his cum drip down your chin as you swallowed the rest.

“Oh my God,” Jay breathed loudly. “Fuck.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as you stand up, patting his cheek gently. “You good?”

“Give me a minute,” he answered, holding up one hand. “Fuck, you’re a goddess.”

You giggled as you carefully sat on his lap again. Jay blinked twice before looking at you fondly, pulling you into a kiss. You smiled into his touch and run your hands through his hair.

“It’s been a minute,” you declared, pulling back to look in his eyes. “You good now?”

Jay chuckled and nodded. “Why?”

You pouted before leaning in to speak right in his ear. “I need you to fuck me harder.”

“God, Y/N,” Jay sighed. “You can’t just say that.”

You couldn’t hide your laughter so you decided to bury your head in the crook of his neck. Despite this, you could still feel him getting harder under you.

“Bedroom?” You asked, looking at him with the best version of your puppy eyes.

“Bedroom,” he replied.

The two of you lost track of time. From slowly undressing each other completely, to getting tangled in the sheets of your bed, you made it a competition to see who can worship the other better. You practically begged for Jay to go rough on you, and he did so marvelously, proven by the way you had your face flat on your pillow with your ass up, him pounding into you from behind. You had your second orgasm for the night, and you refused to stop there.

You pulled Jay to the bed and made him lie down for you as you straddled him, making him wince from the change in pace. He sunk his fingers deeper into your waist with every thrust you made, grinding on him like you had never done so before. You didn’t forget to lean into him, capturing his lips in yours and swallowing his moans that were now louder than your own. You kept your pace while he grabbed your ass, thrusting upwards to match you.

“Y/N,” he called out to you and you immediately moved to kiss him on the forehead. “I’m close.”

“Cum with me,” you replied. “In me.”

Hearing this, Jay propped himself up with both his elbows before sitting up completely, having you sat on his cock comfortably. He leaned into your chest and kissed you between your tits. You looked at him affectionately, gently running your fingers through his hair as he then looked back up at you.

“I love you,” he whispered, barely audible. You responded with a deep kiss before replying back to him.

“I love you too.”

His hands on your ass gripped you harder as he guided your moves, and with a couple more thrusts he cummed inside you with you following suit just moments after.

Jay swiftly maneuvered you to lie down under him without having to pull out, but as he hovered over you and you could feel him slipping out, you grasped his arm in haste.

“Stay,” you begged, looking up at him. “Stay with me.”

Jay realized there really was nothing you would ask for that he could refuse. He nodded and kissed your cheek as he carefully laid by your side, his cock still inside of you. You brought one leg up to rest on his waist, and he started rubbing circles on your bare back.

“We need to wash up sooner or later,” Jay said, his lips moving against the top of your head.

“I vote later,” you mumbled, nuzzling into his chest even closer.

Jay chuckled and you couldn’t help but smile against his skin. Your eyes are closed, and his were too, but in that moment you both were able to feel the immense heat and love you have for each other.

He didn’t need to walk through fire, for his fire was you.

-END-

SECRETARY!JAY will return...

read the next part here: apaga y vámonos

#writtenbynana #fic: tusa #enhypen #jay #enhypen jay #jay enhypen #park jay #jay park #enhypen jay smut #jay smut #jongseong #park jongseong #jongseong smut #enhypen smut #jay hard hours #enhypen hard hours #Spotify

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unholyplumpprincess · 1 year

Text

Kidnap Me Next Time

For my beloved friend @kiwi--bot ! I hope the time you waited for this was worth it :D

If you hit like/heart, don’t forget to reblog to keep writers like me posting fics you love :D

Summary: You and (Pre-entity) Danny have been in a relationship for awhile and you let slip that maybe you're interested in Ghostface and maybe would like for him to catch you and hold you at knife point. Danny, ever devoted spouse that he is, is gonna make sure you get just what you desire.Or! In which Ghostface pays you a visit and chases you through the woods to fuck you and make you cum again and again and again.

Ao3 link: Here

Fandom: Scream / Dead by Daylight - DBD

Relationship: Ghostface/Reader - Danny ‘Jed’ Olsen/Reader

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader is gn and has a vulva, knifeplay, overstimulation, full list of warnings on AO3!

Words: 7.4k

____________

You knew what he did.

It should have scared you. It SHOULD have sent you running for the hills.

It should have.

You'd known Danny since you were teens. He'd been apart of the journalism class; He'd always been really into photography. And you?

Well, you were his favorite subject to take pictures of.

At first it had been a joke from you when you were kids. Offering to be his model. It varied from funny pictures of you both in ghost sheets with the headline being 'Real Ghosts Caught On Camera!!!!'. To simpler things like you holding up school lunches with a disgusted or excited face to highlight it for the school news.

Then it turned to private sessions as you got older where Danny practiced putting you in pretty positions, dressing you up or doing fun photo-shoots in a pumpkin patch. It made you feel pretty- and, of course, you got to hang out with your best friend.

It didn't even faze you to find out he had Polaroids of you in his room. It just made sense, really. Danny was your best friend and that was his hobby and work! So to display both just made sense, right? Besides, plenty of people had pictures of their friends in their room!

You didn't see any red flags. Nothing alerted you; Nothing warned you.

And...even if something did warn you, would you have ever run?

~Rest under the cut here~

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. Ever since you'd become friends, Danny had been a bit...eccentric, so to speak. Anytime anyone said anything even remotely poorly about you or toward you, you'd find the person spooked out of their wits the next day.

Danny always said, ‘maybe the boogeyman paid them a visit’, or maybe karma just struck them hard in the head. Of course, you'd always had a nagging feeling he did something about it- but you always thought it was kind of sweet.

It all came to a head one night when in college there had been warnings. Don't pick up the phone from unknown numbers, don't stay out past curfew, don't do this, don't do that. There was a killer on the loose, one that didn't seem to have a pattern or motif even.

There had only ever been empty film rolls sometimes found. Or with a picture left behind of a ghost masked fiend taking a picture with the prey left mangled on the ground.

Nothing identified the person. No one knew the exact height or shape behind them, just that they were cloaked in all black with a ghoulish common Halloween mask. It even got to the point where no Halloween store sold the masks anymore.

You'd had a sinking feeling.

Danny had only ever been secretive with his photo room. He asked for privacy whenever he was working in there, and at first you didn't think anything of it. Not opening the door so no light would go in just made sense.

Then your ex went missing. People pointed at you for it, but no evidence linked back. All you had was evidence of their stalking and harassment. You couldn’t say you were too shaken up to hear they were missing, in fact, you kind of relished in the freedom that you could walk around without concern. Still, it left you feeling guilty. After all, how could you be happy that another person was gone by the hands of the Ghostface?

Danny comforts you during that time, though his words are laced with some form of acid. Even as he brushes your hair to the side and tells you that maybe it's for the best they went and vanished.

"Maybe the boogeyman scared them away." His voice had murmured to you, low and with an amused angle to it. You couldn't help but huff a small chuckle in turn, remembering his words when you were kids.

It takes you just a few hours after with the words turning in your mind before you had frozen in bed.

But...your best friend- your sweet best friend- he...he couldn't possibly do something like that.

Could...he?

Your thoughts turned for the rest of the night without any sleep from you. Your best friend, tall and lanky as he was, he was certainly smart enough to get the job done if he wanted. He wasn't horribly strong, but that was one thing he had always joked to you.

That he didn't need strength, he just needed smarts.

Normally it would have been said after having pinning you for a tickle war or during a fun game of tag or something or the other. Just a tease, nothing more.

Then you'd thought about it more. The secrecy of the photos- and the killer's tendencies to take pictures of their prey. His fascination with the macabre and dark- but even then, he was the more gothic type, so that could be explained away.

And then, at 3 in the morning with your mind racing, you got a phone call.

An unknown number.

You had swallowed thickly, remembering the warnings from security. A mix of dread and terror swarms you, but even as you had stared at the phone, something happened.

If...this Ghostface character was Danny. He wouldn't hurt you.

This is something you were sure of.

You had exhaled, grabbing the phone and answering it with a soft, tired, "Hello?"

The voice on the other end sounded modified somehow, a lower tone like a growl. "In the mood for a game, sweetheart?"

You should have felt ice in your veins, but you were so certain of your answer. Feeling a bit more confident, and awake, you sat up in bed, carefully cradling your phone as your eyes slowly scanned your bedroom. "A game? At this hour? Don't you ever sleep, Mr. Ghostface?"

No way a normal guy would just call you up with cryptic words, let alone pull a prank with the current scare going around. Especially from an encrypted number. Your thoughts twist and turn as you had slowly reached under your bed for a gun. Not a real gun, it was a foam dart gun that Danny had got you. Something you whipped out when you knew he was in the house so you could thwap him with a harmless little flat 'bullet'.

That night you had found yourself in a game of hide and seek. Find the killer inside the house.

He tried threatening you, but each one sounded more like he was flirting or dirty talking you. Then, when you had finally found him- in the basement of course- you had hit him with the foam dart from across the room and heard familiar laughter.

It was then you knew for certain, but not before you had found yourself chased and soon pinned to the ground. Danny had asked you if you were scared, the flat of his knife caressing the side of your face as his mask stared you down.

You had told him no. You knew he would never hurt you.

He had asked if you were disgusted by him, if what he did to people- to your ex made you scared of him. All while the ghoulish white mask looked down at you.

You had told him no, once more.

You knew he would never hurt you.

That's when your relationship had developed further. Things just seemed to naturally fall into place. No more secrets in the way, Danny had said to you one night with his head on your lap and nuzzling into your abdomen fondly.

It felt...right. Like this was always supposed to happen. It's a loving relationship, everything you could have dreamed of. You give and take equally, he's a gentleman to you, and your communication is perfect. Not to mention the sex is good. Really good.

There's just a small little hitch. Just a tiny thing, really.

You have to ignore the news.

Anytime you hear about a murder or things about the Ghostface, you turn the channel or radio station. You turn an ignorant eye to it and play like some people who simply just didn't want to hear about it.

Danny, however, likes to have you involved in his work sometimes. Nothing hands on, thank God. He just likes to talk about ideas in an encrypted way. Like asking for your opinion about colors or settings for his...art.

Always using that word. Art. A secret shared between you two, even when he catches your gaze and his grin turns wolfish. Predatory.

You hate when he does that. It sends your heart racing, quickly averting your gaze and turning your head to hide your flush. But you know he always catches it.

Yes, it's fucked up. You know it is. But it was a fantasy you had. Of the big bad Ghostface chasing you down somewhere and taking you to have his way with you. Not even taking off his mask for it, a mystery man for all eternity despite you knowing who it was.

It was a dark fantasy. A fantasy you know Danny shared on some nights where his dirty talk got filthy and hot in your ear. Where he'd have his fingers sunk into you, murmuring in your ear what a pretty picture you'd make. How he bets you'd like it if he was wearing his gloves, using you to get off after a new 'art project'.

You liked it, truthfully. You liked the ideas he put into your head. That sort of control he had on you.

Then Danny comes home one night dressed in all black and a leather jacket. He's wet from the rain, his hair sticking to him and the lightning behind him lighting up the room in an intimidating way.

He looks like he's prowling right towards you where you sit on the countertop of your kitchen. You look as coy as ever, despite having sent him some...pictures while he was out. Knowing damn well you're gonna get what you deserve.

His calloused hands slide up your thighs and you hum in delight, winding your arms around his neck just as he forces your thighs apart to make room for himself. His breath is warm against your lips as you tilt your head up to him, feeling just how his hand slides up your waist. Up your chest.

Then it fists into your hair, yanking your head back and making you gasp with an arch of your back.

"You were bein' a tease, baby." His voice is low, his nose tracing up your neck as he comes up until his lips can brush against your jawline, then the shell of your ear. You shudder. "And while I was working no less."

"Thought you could use some encouragement for your art," You huff out, your voice strained and your lashes fluttering when his teeth brush across your neck in a quiet threat. "You didn't like them?"

"Oh, I loved them. Don't get me wrong, sweetheart." His voice is soothing, a mock coo as he leans back to get a good look at you. He eases the hold on your hair, allowing you to peer up at him just in time to catch his hungry gaze. "Just got a bit...messier than I wanted to. Had to get back home to you."

"You gotta be careful," He continues, his voice all mock croons and faux worry. His hand leaves your hair to slide down your neck, a loose grip wound around your throat. "What if that Ghostface guy had caught you, huh?"

It shouldn't make you whine, but it does. The idea of being caught when you were on the balcony taking pretty pictures of yourself in the glow of the moon. Where you'd even sent a teasing video to him with your legs pulled up, sat on your balcony and showing your pussy off to the camera.

"Maybe I'm into it," You tease back, leaning into the hand around your throat to tempt him. You glance beneath your lashes up at him, practically batting your lashes at him. "That such a bad thing, Danny?"

The groan he releases and the way he shoves his hips against yours makes you grin in victory. Even more when he huffs out, "You're a menace."

"That's why you like me. Cause I give you a hard time." You poke back, winding your legs around him to hold him in place.

Then, like a light goes off, Danny's eyes brighten. At first, his hands slide down your body until they reach your hips. Holding you still as he seems to consider something, looking over your face with a small furrow to his brows.

Before you can even think too much about it, Danny cuts off your thoughts.

"What if...that Ghostface fella did catch you." He starts slow, rubbing circles into your hips and watching your reaction carefully.

You allow him to see your eyebrows raise curiously, quietly prompting him to go further.

"What if," Danny continues carefully, his eyes flickering over your face slowly. "What if Ghostface found you. Wanted to watch you. Take a few of your pictures for his secret collection."

Another pause, this time followed by your lips parting and your breathing getting a tiny bit heavier. Seeing a positive reaction in you, Danny feels braver and continues. This time with a tug of your hips to his and his fingers sliding slowly up under your sweater to touch your bare flesh.

"What if he wanted to take you right where he caught you. You're so pretty, baby, it'd be hard for anyone to keep their hands off you." His hands now reach your chest, squeezing and swiping his thumbs over your nipples to make you bite your lip. "No one would hear you scream, not when he's got you in his grasp."

"Danny-" You whine out, rolling your hips into his desperately. Danny leans into you then, his lips brushing across your parted ones.

"Yeah?" He murmurs hopefully, breathless as you are.

"Yeah," You agree in a matching tone, tilting your head to catch his lips in a proper kiss for just a moment before breaking it. "Talk more about it after you fuck me?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

That night, after he had thoroughly ruined you, you did talk about it more.

Rules, a scene in mind. All with explicit consent. You just had one thing to add to it. You didn't...want to know when. You wanted it to be a surprise, but to have clues through the day so you knew it was coming.

Like you were one of his victims.

At first, nothing really obvious happened. It almost disappointed you, but in the end made the talk of it all die down in your mind. Made you unaware, less on edge.

Then Danny had to go on a trip. Some sort of job that required his photographer skills, something out in the wilderness you remember. Maybe some sort of cosplay shoot? You didn’t really get all the details when he was rushing out the door after planting a kiss on you with vague details mentioned to you.

You missed him when he was gone, but it let you catch up on some reading at least.

Well. It would have, at least. But you couldn’t find your book anywhere in your apartment. Finally, you checked your nightstand drawer with the hopes maybe you stashed it. But nope, nowhere.

You wrote it off as nothing, maybe you left it in class.

Then you’d gotten a shower the next day, laying out your clothes on the bed. And when you came out, they were gone. Causing you to wonder if you’d even set them out to begin with, writing it off once again as just your mind leading you astray is all.

Maybe you should get your memory checked?

All leading to today. You had late night studying to do, staying late in the school library and taking comfort in the silence around you. You’d been so caught up in your work that you didn’t realize the time.

Until your phone suddenly begins to vibrate on the table you’re sitting at, nearly vibrating off the table as you hold a hand to your chest with a startled expression.

Your brows furrow, flipping your phone in your grasp to see the ‘unknown caller’ flashing across the screen. Strange. Did people even call this late anymore? It was about 10pm. Unless...maybe it was an emergency? Maybe Danny got into trouble?

With that in mind, you look around the empty library. And though you may feel like a dick answering a call in the library, you have good faith nobody is around anyway. It was a free-service library for students anyway, no need for a late-night librarian.

You answer the call, keeping your voice low just in case. “Hello?”

“Hello, who is this?” The voice answers on the other line, sounding like a low masculine voice with a hint of a growl to it. It almost strikes as familiar, almost.

“Oh, I’m sorry you must have the wrong number.” You try to keep it polite, still keeping your voice low just in case of other patrons around.

“Ah, I must have. Sorry ‘bout that.” Comes the voice from the other end, perfectly polite.

“Not a problem, goodbye now.” You easily end, hanging up the phone on what you believe is good terms without a single red flag wandering into your mind.

Noting the time now, you start to pack up for the night, sliding your books into your bookbag with a new checked out version of the book you’d lost the other day. Still, you hadn’t found it. You wonder if Danny took it before he left, or maybe you’d accidentally put it into his photographer bag by accident.

The second you finish putting your bags away, your phone vibrates again. Furrowing your brows once more, you pop it out of your pocket to check who it is.

‘Unknown caller’ flashes across the screen again.

And once more, you answer it with another. “Hello?”

“Oh, sorry, must have dialed the wrong number again.” Comes the now cheeky tone of the voice on the other end of the call. And once again, no red flags pop up into your mind as you toss your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I understand, accidents happen.” You soothe, tucking the phone against your ear so you can adjust your bag comfortably.

“If I may ask, you’re talking awfully quiet; Do I keep waking you?”

You smile to yourself. Well, at least whoever it was seemed polite. “No, no, not at all. I’m just at the library.”

“Oh, the library? This late? Sounds like somebody’s a teacher’s pet.” It’s playful, friendly even. If a bit pointed at the word ‘library’.

You laugh quietly, “Yeah, a little bit. Just keeping up with my studies is all.” You begin taking steps, adjusting the phone into your other hand. “Hey, who is it that you were trying to reach? I know me and a Hannah Crews share a number save for the last digit, you hunting for her?”

“Ya know, I think I’ve actually reached the right person I was looking at.” Comes the voice once again, this time more hushed and almost drawing it out.

You pause your step, feeling your blood run cold. “Looking at?”

“Hm? Oh, no, I said the person I was looking for.”

“No. No you definitely didn’t.” You murmur, your fingers hesitating at the library door with your card in hand, not quite scanning it yet to get out.

“And now why would I say that, huh?” The voice practically croons to you, as if you were some little puppy just to play with. You swallow thickly as the voice continues. “Looks like you got some running shoes on, little rabbit. In for a chase?”

The sound of books falling somewhere near behind you makes you yelp. You hang up the phone, quickly scanning your security card and darting as quickly as you can outside. You whip your head behind you, your heart pounding and just in time to see a shadowy black figure catch the door with their boot before it can shut.

A flash of a white mask as your eyes trail up for the briefest moment shouldn’t be a quiet comfort, but it is. Even then, there were people out there that could replicate. For fun.

You don’t think about it anymore, quickly taking to the sidewalk in a run under the streetlights. You don’t dare look behind you, running as fast as you can across the pavement before the shadowy figure seems to loop onto your right side.

Squeaking as you avoid the figure, it forces you to run into the woods instead. As if the person was trying to herd you like a sheepdog.

Guess that made you the helpless lamb.

The branches whip past you, some creating nicks in your arms and clothing as you run. You’re already out of breath, your heart pounding and your body aching. You try to steal glances behind you for your pursuer, but in the end that’s your downfall.

You trip over a rock, cliché, sure.

You go tumbling in the dirt, straight into a more open area full of lush grass and tall trees. Your pursuer is quick to follow, quickly snagging you around the waist to help you further down into the dirt beneath you. He slams you down there, knocking your legs apart with his own and forcing himself between them as you pant beneath him, staring up into the white mask above you.

A knife is brandished, the shiny metal caressing the side of your face slowly as the voice from the phone now growls above you, “Such a pretty little thing. Maybe I won’t have to gut you tonight, if you can play nice.”

And then in his other hand, a camera. A camera you were familiar with as it clicks and flashes at the same time his knife slides down under your shirt, yanking from the bottom and slicing it clean in half.

“Yeah, I’m gonna enjoy every second of you.” He croons, setting his knife to the side to start openly grabbing your chest and making you gasp through your harsh breaths. God you can’t catch your breath-

"S-Stab 5- ” You gasp out your safeword, and the second it comes out of your mouth is the second Ghostface turns into Danny.

Hands leave you the second you choke it out, only to come back empty and cupping your face adoringly. The voice modulator he had on is turned off, replaced by only his muffled voice in his mask. “Hey, hey, you okay? You alright? Wanna stop? Baby, did I hurt y-”

“N-no, no, I’m okay. Just-” You wheeze out a laugh, reaching up to grab the backs of his gloved hands to squeeze them in your own where they rest on your face. “Haven’t run track since highschool. Can’t- ah -catch my breath.” You speak through your breaths, your chest heaving with each breath and your ribs aching. “Oh, God, I hate running, Danny.”

Your honest answer relaxes his whole body, a quiet laugh leaving him too as he seems to let go of a breath he’d been holding. Though, it does seem to shatter the very intense scene, something you do take note of once you finally can catch your breath and Danny offers you water from your bag. Something you take graciously as you sit up, drinking from your bottle like your life depended on it.

You wipe your mouth off with the back of your sleeve, peeking up at him where he’s perched in front of you on his knees in the grass. Just seeming to watch you carefully before you flash him a smile. “Sorry about needing the pause. I’d still like to continue, if I didn’t ruin it...?”

“Nah, doll, you’re okay. Maybe a kidnap scene would do you better next time?” Danny teases gently, reaching to brush his gloved knuckles across your cheek adoringly. “Won’t have to run. Just be at the time and place I tell ya to.”

“Charmer,” You playfully poke back as soft laughter erupts from you, only to dissolve into higher pitched giggles as Danny pounces on you once more. You watch as his hand comes up, pressing something on his throat that makes a small static click. His voice modulator.

“So, where were we, sweetheart?” His now gravely, modified voice croons at you. You bite your lip excitedly, getting comfortable back in the grass. You only pretend to squirm just so he’ll grab your wrists in one hand, thrusting them above your head and holding them still in the blink of an eye. His knife once more brandished in his other hand to wag in front of you.

“Nooo, Mr. Ghostface, please-” You don’t even sound convincing, a smile on your lips and squirming as you hold each syllable in a sing song tone. You can feel his grin behind his mask, practically feeling the way his eyes roll behind the eye holes.

“Don’t move.” He demands, letting your wrists go that you keep right there. From his robes, he produces rope that quickly binds your wrists together to the tree you’re nearest to.

For show, you squirm and whine, pulling at your bound wrists only to have your jaw grasped quickly and fingers pressing into your cheeks. “Now, now, play nice, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to have to tape that pretty mouth shut now, would we?”

“Nofir.” The ‘no, sir’ you had meant to say comes out squished and muffled from his hold on your cheeks. Regardless, it seems to satisfy him enough to let your face go. The knife once more introduced to your vision and tracing down your collarbones on its dull side, further down your bare torso and over your abdomen.

It makes you jump, squirming from the ticklishness. Your eyes never leave the knife either. Even if you knew he would never gut you, you still had a knife held to you after all.

His free hand runs down your torso, squeezing your chest as he goes before undoing your pants. He strips you until you are in nothing but your socks, squirming in the summer air as the breeze hits your bare flesh.

“So pretty,” He murmurs seemingly to himself, not letting you get a word in before his hands are groping your chest again. His gloved thumbs swipe over your nipples, making your breath hitch and your back arch into his touch. “And so eager too. Like a dumb little puppy, hm?”

You whine audibly, enhanced when he pinches your nipples and tugs them nearly to the point of pain before releasing. Your whine is met with his chuckle, laughing at you like you really are just a puppy doing tricks for him. “You like that? Aw, just look how wet you are already,” He pauses there to bring his hand down to your cunt, met with your hips lifting into his touch and your gasp.

His hand is brought in front of you, slick clinging to the leather of his gloves and leaving strings as he rubs his fingers together and spreads them out in the moonlight. Just for you to see.

It’s humiliating, but you can’t argue back. Not when his hand is coming right back down to curl two fingers into you just how you like with his thumb pressed to your clit. Each swift thrust of his fingers punctuated by the press and rub across your clit until your toes are curling and your hips are pressing up into each touch.

You don’t even notice what his other hand is doing until you see the shift of him in the dark, shimmying his robes up above his hips and hearing a zipper being undone. You’re so focused on the way his fingers move inside you, quirking up and nailing the spot that makes your eyes roll back and moans spilling freely from your lips.

“Just look atcha,” His voice croons oh so sweetly as he thrusts his fingers in deep, holding them there as his thumb rubs circles into your clit to feel your walls clenching and fluttering around him. “Barely even got started and you look like a mindless little whore.”

“N-no-” You choke out, mostly to yourself as you feel the tension in your lower abdomen. You pull uselessly at your bound wrists, tucking your face into your bicep as you pant heavily. “Nononono- d-don't, I-I-”

“No? You don’t want to cum on my fingers, little rabbit?” Ghostface’s voice is that of an owner down talking their dog, almost baby talk of faux sympathy. “Poor thing. You don’t think you really have a choice here, do you?”

A third finger is introduced, curling up into you as his other hand presses on your lower abdomen to keep you down. It does the trick, breaking the tension like a band that you’d been desperately clinging to. And, oh, do you cum, violently.

You cry out, pulling at the rope on your wrists as your back arches as best as it can in this position with your hips moving on their own. You try not to fuck yourself onto his fingers, but it’s useless as your hips move furiously into his palm. Playing right into his hand as he croons at you with each movement of his fingers.

As you come down, Ghostface’s fingers have stilled inside you and you’re left panting with a sheen of sweat clinging to your bare skin. You whine pathetically, peeking up at his mask through your lashes as your breath shudders. You, once more, pull at your wrists, this time followed by a quiet whine of questioning.

You didn’t really believe it’d be that easy, right?

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, sweetness. We’ve just got started with you.” His voice is threatening, disguised by the faux pitying pout he displays through it. His words are followed by the curl of his fingers once again, pressing into you as he shuffles his body closer.

It gives him the perfect angle to grab your leg and thrust you up so your lower half was suspended in the air until he could slot himself there. Your legs press together, your knees bent by his hand and exposing your pussy to the air so he could plunge his fingers deep inside you again and again and again.

You scream out and squirm, not sure if your hips are trying to yank away from his touch or press into it. Regardless, the squirming and your pressed together thighs give you just the friction you need on your clit with every twitch of your body. It isn’t long before another orgasm is ripped from you, punctuated by your head throwing back and your eyes clenching shut.

Each twitch and shudder of your body is analyzed- you just knew it. You could feel his gaze on you, oh so intense with each slow roll of his thumb against your clit. You sob out by the fifth one, shaking your head and trying to roll your body away from him.

It doesn’t work, of course. Not when you hear him practically snarl, muttering a swear under his breath as he yanks your hips to be still. There’s something rolled up underneath your hips, something squishy that you can only assume is a blanket.

You hardly get time to realize what’s happening when Ghostface is shuffling onto his stomach, hooking his arms under your legs with his mask pushed up atop his head. It makes you feel like the mask is staring directly at you from its position, even as you feel his tongue needily slide across your slick.

His moan is low, guttural, no longer muffled by a mask or modulator. He moans again into you when your hips twitch, his lips sliding across your heat as he takes open mouthed kisses across your cunt. Each open-mouthed kiss met with his tongue sliding through your slit up to your clit in slow, non-hurried ways.

“So good...” Ghostface murmurs against you, his tone raspy as he buries himself into you. You feel him seal his lips around your clit, circling your engorged clit with the flat of his tongue until you’re sobbing out and arching your back.

He knows just how to work you. Just how to make you scream. Knows every single sensitive point on you, even to the small things like how his fingers flex and press over your lower abdomen or over the mound of your sex.

Or how you can hear him moaning to himself, able to make out the shape of him in the dark and how his hips roll into the very dirt underneath him in seek of friction. Getting off on just getting you off.

The visual stimulus and the feeling of his tongue sliding through you is almost enough. You feel the knot tightening again, but unable to get over that edge with the slow, methodical slides of his tongue and kisses.

You begin to get frustrated, tears building in your eyes as you furiously try to hump his face or grind across his tongue. You cry out, throwing your head back each time you start to get close but unable to finally cross it.

Until two of his fingers curl inside you again, his lips suckling across your clit and moaning into you like the very same pleasure you’re receiving is his as well.

You cum, once again, having lost count by now of how many. This one isn’t as intense, but comes in waves with each throb of your clit and your walls fluttering down on his curling fingers. Ghostface doesn’t even flinch, just murmuring filthy words against each pulse of your clit and rubbing his lips across the engorged flesh. As if sinking your scent into him.

“There you go, look at you,” His voice is absolutely ragged, his breaths heavy and full of arousal. His tongue flicks out across your clit, a quick swipe just to watch you cry out and how your hips jump. It makes him chuckle lowly as he sits up, pulling his mask back down into place. “So pliant for me now. Wasn’t so hard, was it, puppy?”

He’s right. You’re a mess.

Your mind is absolutely blank, only left with conflicting feelings on whether you want to cum again just to appease him or if you want him to just use you to get himself on and be done with it.

The idea of being used as a toy makes your hips twitch, a humiliating thought as you watch the way Ghostface gropes the front of his own crotch. Able to see the shape of him vaguely in the dark through his robes.

“Please,” You choke out, keeping your eyes on where he’s grabbing himself. Your gaze follows when he lifts up his robe, tucking his boxers down from where he’d undone his pants earlier. “Please, just fuck me already.”

His cock is thick even in his gloved palm. It’s longer, but not horrendously so, but the thickness alone makes you swallow helplessly. Pretty piercings decorate underneath the shaft of maybe four or so barbells in a Jacob’s ladder with a pretty prince albert at the tip. All in silver, glinting in the moonlight.

Each stroke of his cock pulls back the foreskin to reveal the shiny head, drooling with pre-cum and making your mouth water. Your lips part to take in a shuddering, shaky breath, lifting your hips up helplessly to try and indicate how badly you wanted it.

“Poor thing, just look at you,” Ghostface starts in a drawl, looking over your flushed body. How you’d gone from pulling at your bonds to now just wanting him to fuck you. You must admit, you must have looked pretty pathetic looking at him with not a single thought in your eyes. “Nothing going on in that pretty head right now, hm?”

You don’t even reply properly, only managing a whine and mouthing the word ‘please’ over and over again. You thought for sure if he didn’t get inside of you that you would keel over and pass away.

Luckily, Ghostface doesn’t leave you wanting for long.

Your legs frame around his hips in no time when he shuffles closer. You’re unable to see what’s happening, only feeling the way he slides his cock through your folds. Each slide kisses and rubs against your clit, sending mixed feelings through you on ‘too sensitive’ and ‘just right’.

Then he slaps his cock against you, tapping it against your clit and sending jolts through you that make you sob out audibly. So sensitive- you wanted to cry from the stimulus, tears welling up in your eyes as you begin to mindlessly babble pleads again.

Then finally, finally, Ghostface slides home into you with a loud, low groan from him as if he’d reached heaven.

His moan is desperate with the way he slides into you. Savoring each of your twitches and how your own whines come from you in short, whimpering bursts with each slow stretch inside of you. You can’t take it, you can’t do it, it’s too much, too much-

“You can take it,” He says to you, his voice a gruff whisper. You hadn’t even realized you’d been babbling the same words aloud, framed by hiccups and the jerks of your hips as if trying to escape the very thing you asked for. “You will take it. Be good for me, baby, come on. You feel so good, it won’t take long, sweetheart. So good for me, shhh.”

As he finishes his words, one of his hands reaches up to cup your cheek. His thumb swipes away a tear that had rolled down your cheek, just as he bottoms out inside of you with a grunt.

“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” Ghostface encourages you, his hand never leaving your face. His other hand rests on your waist, gently arching you upwards so he can shift his hips and hump into you ever so gently with harsh pants of his own. “There you go, shh, let it happen. Good puppy.”

His encouragement makes you dizzy with desire. Conflicted by how over stimulated your body is and just how good it all felt. You're left with nothing in your mind except pleasure and the pinching, slight pain from too much pleasure following it. Each rock of his hips, each grumble of his words sending you further and further into a headspace that left you feeling like you were on cloud 9.

“Thatta pup. Look at that face, hm?” He grunts out between his own harsh huffs of pleasure, fucking his hips into you slow and languidly. You knew why, of course, he always came too quickly once he was inside of you. He was savoring it. “Not a damned thought in there. That all for me, baby?”

You can’t even tell him yes properly, because as soon as you say ‘yeah’ you start repeating it helplessly in time with his thrusts. It tapers off into a higher pitched sob, throwing your head to the side and against his palm to try and bury yourself there for support.

You’re moved then, his hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck to grab you. He leans down to you, bent over you with the forehead of his mask pressed to yours and your moans mingling together.

His thrusts go from slow and savoring to harsh and needy and primal. He fucks you like an animal, grunting and panting with each thrust of his hips. You plead him the entire time to cum, to please cum inside you, please, please, please, please-

Ghostface’s grip on the back of your neck tightens, drawing you close up into him as he snarls. His last few thrusts get sloppy, out of time, left with him pumping into you with a loud, guttural moan ripping from his mask and growling words of calling you good.

It’s then that he finally rips his mask off, openly panting into the air as he makes eye contact with you.

You both briefly share a moment of panting between you two, you look over his face and how sweat clung to him. How the thick black eyeshadow around his eyes was starting to drip down his cheeks and making the color of his eyes that much brighter as he looked down on you.

You don’t need to ask him, not when Danny gives you his signature halfcocked grin before descending upon you to devour your lips with his own. You moan into his mouth, feeling his hands cupping your cheeks and holding you close to him. Each slide of his tongue is savoring you, slow and needy as it licks into your mouth to swallow your quiet moans raw.

When he parts, you’re left panting again. You whimper when Danny adjusts his hips now, watching as he tips his gaze down to look down at your conjoined bodies.

You note his devious smile, how he bites his bottom lip and glances up at you briefly. You’d know that look anywhere.

“Nononono, D-Danny, no, please, I can’t take it, please, please, please-” You start your begging, only half meaning it of course. You had a safeword, after all, if anything got too much.

But then Danny reaches down, feigning a puppy dog pout as his fingers circle your clit just how you like. “Aw, but baby~,” His tone is sing-song, almost verging on a whine as his tone teases you. You immediately clench down around him, bucking your hips against him and watching how his smile falters into a pleasured expression. “Fuck, sweetheart, you just look too cute with that expression. How can I not make you cum again?”

“You can do it, come on,” Danny continues, rolling your clit gently with each swipe of his fingers. You can feel the tension in your stomach, knitting your brows as he leans down to press his now bare forehead to yours.

You squeeze down again on him, twitching and fluttering and don’t miss the way he moans out, “Fuuuuuck yes, baby, there it is. Go ahead, cum all over my cock, come on, missed you so much, come on baby, yes, yes, yes-”

And you cum again. Weak, twitching, sobbing, and pulling at your restraints so you could twist your body as best as you could against him. But even then, Danny is quick to kiss you, swallowing down your pathetic sobs and moans as you plead against his lips silently.

“Bastard-” You finally choke out against his mouth, earning you a hearty laugh as Danny breaks away.

From there, Danny takes care of you. Well, once you can finally move at least and feel sensation in your clit again.

When he takes off your bonds, he gingerly applies kisses to your wrists before following it with soothing lotion once he made sure you didn’t hurt yourself anywhere. Then followed by a wet rag, courtesy of your water bottle for the cold water, to wipe you down of sweat and mud.

He takes special care with a new wet rag to take care of your poor cunt, sitting on his knees while you stand with your hands shakily on his shoulders as he tends to you. Met with oh so tender kisses to your lower lips and mound with comical ‘mwah’ sounds that make you laugh.

A fresh pair of clothing is given to you, brandished from his bag with a smile on his face that he seems to remember right after you complained about your clothes being muddy. The clothes you’d left out on the bed and went missing days ago.

Cheeky, probably had your book too.

He ditches his cloak and mask in a bag to walk around in normal clothing. The walk home isn’t too far, and once inside you can both take a shower and get into your respective pajamas.

You’re met in bed after with Danny’s arms winding around you and holding you tight, kissing all over your face with praises of how well you’d done and what a good victim you were.

But, you both agree that next time, maybe a kidnap scene would do you two better.

God, you hated running.

____________________________

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#Ghostface x Reader #The ghostface x reader #Danny jed olsen x reader #ghostface #scream #dead by daylight #dick by daylight #nsft #lemon #princess writing

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thechurchofgvf · 2 years

Text

Faithfully

Jake Kiszka x Reader

18+ only! Minors DNI

A bit of everything here! Lots of fluff, a touch of angst, littlest bit of soft smut. Based on one of my favorite songs, Faithfully by Journey. I always think of Jake when I hear this song, therefore this was born.

Cover art made by the ever lovely @mintysammykiszka

Highway run Into the midnight sun Wheels go round and round You're on my mind

As another show wrapped up and everything was being packed up, tour busses ready and waiting, all Jake wanted was to call you. The tour seemed endless, a blur of venues, tour busses, and occasional sightseeing. As much as this was Jake’s dream, at the end of the day you were his dream too. It’s funny how things like that can change in an instant.

You remain on his mind as the tires on the asphalt of the road creates a constant droning noise that becomes the backing track to his thoughts. Staring off into space, he’s thrown from his thoughts as Josh plants himself in the spot next to Jake, twin telepathy making an appearance as he instantly knows Jake just needs his presence.

“She loves you, ya know. She misses you and I’m sure she would love to hear from you.” He affirms, turning to face his other half.

Not turning to face his brother, Jake continues to stare straight ahead. “I know.” He murmurs, a sigh leaving his lungs, deflating a bit at the mention of you. You hadn’t been able to talk much recently, aside from the occasional check in, the lack of contact was wearing on both of you.

Restless hearts Sleep alone tonight Sendin' all my love Along the wire

The bus finally came to a stop, pulling up to the hotel where they’d be staying for the night. Jake thanked whoever was out there looking out for him that they were in a hotel for the night with a real bed and separate rooms instead of the cramped tour bus with little to no privacy.

Getting their room keys, his brothers break apart, each tiredly moving to their designated rooms. Throwing himself onto the pristine bed, he shoots you a quick text, positive that you’re dead asleep in your shared bed at this point.

Plugging his phone in to charge, he hops in the shower to unwind before heading to bed. Coming out wrapped in a towel, he checks his phone, deflating even more upon finding no new notifications from you. Throwing on some clothes, he crawls into bed hoping sleep will find him quickly. He has no such luck, instead tossing and turning throughout most of the night. Finally having enough of that, he grabs his phone, reading through some of your past messages and looking through pictures of the both of you together. Seeing your smiling face and all the memories you’ve made together, a sad smile makes its way onto his face, eyebrows furrowing as he realizes exactly how much he misses you.

They say that the road ain't no place to start a family Right down the line, it's been you and me And lovin' a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be Oh, girl, you stand by me I'm forever yours Faithfully

When the band first became big, recognized by other artists, and offered a chance to make it in the music industry, Jake had no interest in ever settling down or finding someone to come back to. He looked forward to his freedom and the rockstar lifestyle that was being offered to him. With that reputation to use and uphold, there were groupies and women always throwing themselves at him and that was more than enough. He wasn’t in one place long enough to ever know them beyond that once off meeting. Then you came along. Different from the rest, quieter and more reserved, not throwing yourself at his feet. There was something behind your eyes that drew him in. From the first moment that you locked eyes, he was hooked. You had shared a few drinks, conversation flowed easily, and was deeper than the usual conversations he had grown used to, surrounding the industry and what it was like to be an up and coming rockstar. He tried to move on, and at first it was easy. Go on to the next place and repeat the same rituals as every place before. But at the end of it all, laying in his bunk after a long day, you always made an appearance in his minds eye. Your laugh, the tilt of your eyebrows, the genuine interest shown in your eyes, wanting more than just the Jake from Greta Van Fleet that most others were interested in.

Still, it’s always been you and Jake. In it for the long haul. Jake knows it’s not easy loving him, his career makes for very little privacy for either of you. There are always fans asking for pictures whenever you go out together, or people snapping pictures to post online. You have to share your time alone with any fans who may come to meet you both. No matter where you go or what you’re doing you have to be constantly careful and aware of your appearance as anyone may recognize you as dating the famed guitarist. Learning to be ok with others loving your boyfriend as much as you took some time, it seemed like most females (and plenty of males) threw themselves at him. Not that Jake ever paid them any mind.

Jake tried his best to be always present. Even if he couldn’t be there physically, he was only ever a phone call or text away. He wasn’t one to be on his phone constantly, but he had special notification alerts set for you so that he wouldn’t miss a thing. He always felt bad when he had to miss big events, a dinner you were being honored at or special dates such as birthdays or anniversaries. Still, he tried his best. Gifts were mailed and set up to be delivered throughout the day, and he was waiting not so patiently to hear all about your dinner after it ended. No matter how hard he tries he feels he’ll never be able to give you what you deserve due to his job and travels. Whenever he brings this up to you, it’s quickly dismissed and shaken off and you tell him all the ways he’s exactly what you need.

Circus life Under the big top world We all need the clowns To make us smile

You both knew that nothing in this relationship would ever be normal. Not only was it long distance with Jake touring the better part of the year, but everything was under speculation and the watchful eyes of the world. It often felt like a circus, and you were the lions jumping through the fiery hoops. Jake did his best to keep your relationship under wraps. Not that he was trying to hide you away, just that he wanted to shield you from any potential hate that may be sent your way by “fans”. All your social media accounts were private, and Jake hardly posted you on his pages. Everyone knows he’s in a committed relationship but know virtually nothing about it or you. No matter what, Jake would always be there to guard you from the cruel world around him. You were his rock, his love, his light in the darkness. When the days were long and rough, all it took was someone asking about how you were to make him smile again.

Through space and time Always another show Wonderin' where I am Lost without you

Jake is lost without you. Tour feels endless and repetitive until you’re there with him. Facetime calls can’t make up for the many miles between you, but it’s the best you both can do given the circumstances. Still, it’s not the same as being there in person and you both know that. You both count down the days until you’re able to hold each other in your arms. Nothing is better than the first moments you’re together again after a long series of being apart. All Jake can focus on is counting down the days until he can see you again. As the number of days gets smaller and smaller it begins to take up more and more of his attention. The need to be with you becomes so great that he begins to lose his edge, fumbling during a couple shows. Hoping for a better night than the past few, Jake sits in his dressing room, back to the door, phone in hand, your contact pulled up. Three more days before you’ll be together again, and this time you’ve managed to get a couple weeks away from work and school to stay with Jake and his brothers, finally getting some time to travel and unwind after exams.

His phone stares back at him, the droning of the dial tone ringing out into the room as Jake tries to call you for the 4th time. Yet again, the dialing turns into your voicemail, before he ends the call. His elbows come to rest on the counter in front of him, head falling to rest in his hands, fingers knotted into his hair.

A knock comes on his dressing room door. “I’m busy!” He calls out to whoever could be looking for him in that moment. He presses on your contact on his screen yet again. Before the phone begins to ring his dressing room door is popped open and you stick your head into the room. Jake has yet to look up, still too lost in trying to get ahold of you.

“I’m aware. Now can you quit blowing up my phone babe?” You sarcastically quip back. Jake whips around, turning to look at you over his shoulder. A perplexed look crosses his face before the biggest smile you’ve ever seen comes over him. His whole demeanor changes as he rushes to stand, the chair falling onto its side in the process. You’re pulled from the doorway into the room and into his arms, crushing you in a bear hug.

“Surprise!” you murmur into his shoulder.

“What’re you doing here? I thought you wouldn’t be here for a couple more days?” Jake rushes out, his face buried in your hair.

“Well, a little birdy told me you were struggling, and I was able to rearrange some things and convince my boss to let me off a couple days early to come see you. I couldn’t wait any longer for this.” You whisper, pulling him even tighter to you.

Jake doesn’t respond, only squeezing you tighter as a few tears begin to break through his waterline. Pulling back, your eyes lock. Your eyebrows furrow at the tears tracking their way down his cheeks. Bringing your hands up to hold his face, you wipe away his tears before he ducks down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss.

And being apart ain't easy on this love affair Two strangers learn to fall in love again I get the joy of rediscovering you Oh, girl, you stand by me I'm forever yours Faithfully

Being apart more often than not is not easy on either of you. Month’s apart with you not able to visit with your classes, and Jake not able to take a couple days off due to most days being full of travel, interviews, and shows, conversations can begin to lack, both of you tired of this long distance and miserable without each other. When tour is over and Jake is finally able to come back to your shared home, it takes some time to get used to having each other back and having to relearn each other. Routines must be relearned, and small details have changed.

“Jake, what’re you doing?” you groan out. Glancing over at your alarm clock on the nightstand, the time of 2:19 shines back at you.

“Hmm? Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Jake asks as he enters your bedroom once again.

“Just a little. The bed was cold without you.” You whine, still half asleep.

“Well let me fix that.” He says, placing the guitar he was messing with against the wall next to the bed. Pulling back the blankets he crawls in next to you, to which you instantly wrap yourself around him. You tilt your face up to him, puckering your lips for a kiss. Jake chuckles at your antics, your heavily lidded eyes were barely open, and your cheek was lined with marks from the sheets, attesting to how deep you were in the land of sleep. Humoring you he drops innocent kisses across your cheek, the bridge of your nose, and onto your other cheek. You hum in contentment as he finally kisses your lips. The once innocent sign of affection takes a turn as his lips drop down to your neck, the skin becoming marked with a necklace of red and purple as Jake sucks and nibbles his way around. A gasp leaves your lips, hands flying up to tangle into his knotted locks. Your incessant tugging pulls a groan from your lover who shifts you both, him now resting between your legs. Jake’s old shirt which you’d stolen for the night is quickly removed as are the sweatpants resting low on his hips. You arch your back in pleasure as Jake’s lips travel lower down your body. Grabbing hold of his shoulders, you pull him back up to meet you.

“What’s wrong?” His eyebrows furrow, eyes searching yours.

“Missed you. Wanna feel you.” You reassure him, pulling him even closer still. A lovesick smile breaks out across his face as he returns your embrace.

“Oh baby. Missed you more than you know.” He murmurs, breathing in your scent.

The passion in the room rises along with the temperature as you both become frantic. Heavy breaths and wandering hands as you both find your pleasure in each other.

Pulling you into his arms, you move to lay your head on Jake’s chest. His soft gravelly voice rings out, the rumble of his voice in his chest felt against your cheek. Talking about everything and anything, Jake tells you stories of the road, and talks about a new recipe he wants to try for dinner tomorrow, and as he begins on the topic of possibly going to visit his parents, sleep starts to take over your senses. The rhythm of his heart slowing and his fingers tracing up and down your spine lulls you into sleep.

Faithfully I'm still yours

Through thick and thin, everything that you’ve been through and everything that is constantly going on and changing around you, you always remain constant in his life. For that he’ll never be able to tell you how thankful he is or how much he loves you. You’re always there to ground him when things feel like too much.

“Hey Jakey!” your cheerful voice rings out upon answering your buzzing phone. A beat passes with nothing from his end and your eyebrows furrow. “Jake?” you try again. That’s when you hear it. Jake’s breathing is unsteady, inhales shallow and exhales coming too fast. “Oh baby…” you start upon realizing what was going on. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, nor would it be the last. At times everything got to be too much for him to handle by himself. With everything that was expected of him on a daily basis whenever things changed or something didn’t go quite to plan it could be overwhelming, toppling over the carefully stacked pyramid of his life. “Talk to me. What’s going on? Whose ass do I need to kick?” you try again when he hasn’t answered after another minute.

“Do you love me?” He asks tearfully. This catches you off guard.

“Of course I do!” you rush out. “What makes you think I don’t? Did I do something? Was it something I said?” You ask now frantic yourself.

“I just don’t understand how you can love me when I’m never there for you. I mean I’ve missed so much that I should’ve been at for you. I’m a horrible boyfriend y/n. You should find someone else who can be there for you and love you properly. It’s what you deserve.” Jake sobs out, his voice breaking as he speaks.

“Jacob Thomas, you listen to me right now. I don’t want anyone else. You make me so happy. Happier than I’ve ever been in fact. I don’t know where you got these ideas, but I need you to lose them. You hear me? None of that is at all true. I love you so much. You are here for me. In every way that counts. You try so hard and put in so much effort to make up for not being able to be there in person it just makes me love you even more. I’m so sorry that you can’t feel my love right now.”

“No, you’re right angel. I can feel your love I know how much you care for me. I’m just missing you right now. There’s a lot going on I can’t seem to get ahead before there’s more to do. I can’t sleep without you. I haven’t slept well since we went on the road again.” He finally admits.

“Oh love, I’m so sorry.” You tell him. Going into your messages, you shoot Josh a text to have him check up on Jake and keep an eye on him for you. “What’re you all up to now? It’s late for you, isn’t it? Go see if Josh will let you sleep in his room, I just sent him a text. I don’t want you alone tonight love. I’m worried. I’ll see what I can do, I’m looking at flight’s right now.”

“You really are something special, you know that don’t you?” Jake whispers through the phone after you talk for a while more. “I’m not sure where I’d be without you.”

I'm forever yours Forever yours Faithfully

“I am baby. Forever yours.” Jake whispers into your ear as he pulls you even closer into his chest by his arm wrapped around your waist. You sway back and forth together, a small, contented smile gracing your lips. It wasn’t easy, but here you were, surrounded by your loved ones on your wedding day. Every day apart was worth it, you had made it. No matter what was thrown your way, you knew you could handle it because you had the love of your life by your side. And look how far you’ve come already.

#jake kiszka #jake gvf #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet smut #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh gvf #sam gvf #danny gvf #jake kiszka fluff

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stratossphere · 2 years

Text

cheater cheater | j.k

*disclaimer: i in no way support cheating, and do not see johnny as a cheater! this is just a hypothetical scenario :)*

you and johnny have been broken up for months now, and he’s started to ‘move on’, but you’re not done yet.

warnings: mentions of smoking and drinking, very slight angst, cheating, smut, extremely irresponsible sex, unprotected sex, slapping, choking, Knoxville’s Dirty Mouth

word count: 6.9k

— —

You and Knoxville had been…in a funk. You had been broken up for months now, and up until this point, you’d been almost 100% sure that there was no chance of reconciliation. But tonight, something felt different.

You’d been trying your best to avoid him, because you knew that if you let yourself slip up even a little bit you were going to do something you would really regret, but you couldn’t avoid him forever. Especially with your friends’ love for partying.

You had all finished filming for the day, and had all been invited out to a set producer’s house to party for the night seeing as no one really wanted to deal with the laws and charges that came with partying in public places. So, once again, against your will, you found yourself looking for him as soon as you walked into the house.

As a result of the privacy freedom and all of the booze and drugs flowing throughout the house, everyone was acting like a fucking idiot in someone’s half-dark living room with shitty music blasting so loudly that the walls felt as if they were vibrating. And Bam, who you had somehow ended up next to, had decided that it would be hilarious to start pestering you with questions and ‘concerns’ about Johnny.

“You’re lying.” He was singing in your ear after you had been very adamant that you and Johnny weren’t still fucking. You shoved his face away in irritation, only for him to gleefully continue to talk despite your palm shoved against his cheek. “Who cares, dude? Just fuck him and get it over with so you stop being such a pissy bitch.”

“Will you put a fucking cock in it? Why do you want me to fuck Knoxville so bad?” You complained, taking a long drink of your beer after you spoke in an attempt to relax yourself a little bit. You were pretty drunk already, but he was still finding a way to stress you out regardless. You did, in fact, kind of want to fuck Knoxville, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Because you two are so annoying when you’re not fucking. He’s literally just sitting in the bathroom drinking by himself like a goddamn loser right now.” Bam groaned, motioning vaguely towards where you knew there was a bathroom around the corner. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. To be fair, there were a lot of people crammed into a house that wasn’t built for it, and not everyone could be expected to shove themselves into the living room like you and Bam had done, but the bathroom? Alone? Seriously?

“Why? Is he okay?” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, you winced at how ‘I wanna fuck Johnny Knoxville’ they sounded. Bam clearly didn’t miss it either, because he smirked.

“I don’t know. You should probably go find out.” He nudged your shoulder, and you took another long drink whilst staring him down.

“If we fuck, you can’t judge me. Like, at all.” You said with finality, raising your eyebrows at him because you knew it was going to be a monumental task for him. Bam, for some reason, was the nosiest person on the planet, but then had the nerve to judge you and act grossed out about anything involving sex if you actually told him. He made a face at your proposal.

“Fine. But don’t do anything super disgusting.” He caved, suddenly reaching back and pulling out a long strip of condoms. When you deadpanned, he pressed the entire thing into your hand before you could get a word in edgewise. “Would you like to add pregnancy to the mix, you fucking idiot?”

“Okay! Jesus!” You accepted the condoms with an extremely dirty look, shoving him slightly as you got up off the floor that the both of you had been sitting on in the corner of the room and dropped your coat down towards him so that he could hold onto it. You had never actually been on a mission where the only clear objective was to get in Johnny Knoxville’s pants (usually it wasn’t really a mission, more of a ‘look at him and he’s already taking his pants off’ type of thing), but with a row of condoms in one hand and a beer bottle in the other, that’s exactly what you set out to do.

When you rounded the corner, you were met with a shut (and locked, as luck would have it) bathroom door. You paused for a second, because there was a chance that Johnny had just moved on to a different part of the house and you were about to fuck with some poor person who was just trying to take a piss, but then decided that who gave a fuck. Everyone was too drunk to be offended, anyway.

When you banged harshly on the door and then kicked it with your foot for good measure, you heard a deep sigh from the other end that sounded suspiciously like your ex-boyfriend. You caught yourself smiling for a second at the sound, and quickly reached into your back pocket to fish out a cigarette to stop yourself from doing it again.

“What?” Oh yeah. He was pissed. You sighed softly as you lit the cigarette now perched between your lips, resting your head against the door momentarily as you puffed small clouds of smoke out through your nose as mentally prepared yourself for what was on the other side of the door.

“Let me in! I gotta pee!” You lied, banging on the door a couple more times just to urge him on. There was a pause, which was clearly him grappling with the fact that it was you on the other side of the door, before you heard footsteps and then PJ Clapp himself was standing in front of you with his hand on the doorknob as he pulled the door open. You grinned, pushing past him and then pulling the door shut behind the both of you before he could get a chance to escape. “Hey! Whatcha doing in here?”

“What are you—” He made a face when you didn’t let him past you and out the now-closed door, looking between you and the door momentarily before sighing. “What do you usually do in bathrooms, Y/n?”

“Coke? Drink, apparently.” You said wryly, motioning to the large collection of beer cans that were on the floor by his feet. You knew he probably hadn’t done coke, but that’s what most of the Jackass crew were up to if they were in the bathroom for more than five minutes at a time.

“I thought you had to pee.” He sounded suspicious, and you could see that he was glancing towards the door like he was getting ready to leave. You shrugged, taking your cigarette out of your mouth and offering it over to him.

“I will have to pee. At some point.” You couldn’t keep the hint of a laugh out of your voice as you spoke. You were drunk, okay? You could tell that he could tell, and judging by the number of cans on the floor. He couldn’t have been much better. He seemed to be in a sulky drunk kind of mood tonight. “In the meantime, whatcha up to?”

“Trying to get out of here. You’re blocking the door.” He said uninterestedly as he puffed on your cigarette, motioning to the fact that your back was pressed up against his only escape. You pretended to pout, not moving from where you were standing despite his clear attempt to end your conversation and then taking your cigarette when he handed it back.

“Come on. Just hang out with me for a little bit.” You whined, reaching out and taking his hand in an attempt to entice him into giving you the time of day. He looked down, sighed, and then made a face when he looked at your hand.

“What the hell do you have these for?” He removed his hand from yours so that he could peel your fingers open, revealing the bunched up strip of condoms that you had fisted in your hand. You waved them in front of him enticingly, a smirk on your face.

“Propositions. Just in case I need them.” You said vaguely, winking at him like he was in on your joke. He just stared at you, letting go of your wrist and then taking a step back from you. Collecting them back up so that they were stacked in your palm, you took a sip of your beer. “Bam ‘gifted’ them to me. You can use them on that bitchass blonde chick, if you want.”

God, you sounded drunk and jealous. ‘That bitchass blonde chick’ you were referring to was a girl that had been half-tagging-along to a lot of parties as of late, and had seemed almost attached to Johnny’s hip every time you’d seen her in the past few weeks. Johnny sucked on his teeth.

“My girlfriend?” He corrected, narrowing his eyes at you as he spoke in a tone that basically spat in your face. Your jaw dropped slightly despite your best attempts to control your reaction, and the cigarette you had been holding between your lips fell right down onto the ground. It would’ve been almost comical had it not felt like he had just punched you right in the chest. What. The. Fuck.

“What?” You couldn’t even form a coherent thought to respond to his news. A fucking girlfriend. After all of the long stares and the extra touching that had made you think you still had him even when you weren’t sure you could want him. Once again, what the fuck.

“Stop.” He clearly read your reaction clear as day, because he spoke before you could even give him an idea of what you were thinking. “Don’t get like that.”

“I didn’t say anything. I’m just…surprised.” Suddenly you were desperately wishing that you were anywhere but trapped in that bathroom with him. You hated the fact that you felt so crushed by his news when you’d been so sure that you didn’t even want to be with him anymore. You toed the cigarette that you’d dropped out on the tile floor to cover the fact that you’d dropped it by accident, not moving your eyes back up once they landed on your feet.

“Why did you come in here?” His words just crushed you more. You were starting to silently wish that you’d accepted the molly that Ehren had offered you when you’d showed up for the night.

Maybe you did hate him.

“I just wanted to check on you.” You hated the way your voice had gone quiet, and you just added fuel to the fire when you tossed the condoms towards him and turned to open the bathroom door. “You’re clearly fine, so…”

“Y/n.” Suddenly a hand slammed onto the door above your head, stopping you from being able to open it and essentially blocking you in just as you had been him no less than a couple minutes before. You clenched your jaw.

“What.” Deep breaths. As soon as he let you out, you were going straight for Ehren. You didn’t want to remember this interaction by the time that morning came. Especially because you knew that Johnny was reading you like a fucking book; scrutinizing page by page with every second that went by.

“You can stay in here for a while.” He was fucking serious. And motioning to a pack of beer that he had apparently stolen and hid on the floor by the trash can. “This party kind of fucking blows, anyway.”

Suddenly, something in your mind clicked. He was clearly unbothered by the fact that he was in a very small bathroom with his ex while he was (apparently) dating someone else, and he was inviting you to stay. He didn’t give a fuck about that girl. And if he didn’t give a fuck, you were starting to realize that you didn’t give a fuck either. If he wanted to make bad decisions and ruin another relationship, by god if you weren’t going to help him towards his demise.

“Yeah? Why?” You crossed your arms, meeting his eyes when he didn’t move his hand from the door behind you. “I gave you condoms to get out of here and fuck her, didn’t I?”

“Will you stop? I’m trying to talk to you.” His eyes searched yours, and you wondered if he could see the lack of care that you were slowly falling into. So, based on his close proximity and the liquor in your system, you took a leap.

“I don’t want to talk.” You moved your hands to rest your fingers on his belt buckle, fingertips brushing the soft skin under his shirt just like you knew he liked. It had worked every single time when you’d been together, and you could tell by the way his breath caught in his throat that it was close to working now. “Why do you think I came into this small-ass bathroom with you with a handful of condoms, PJ? To fucking hang out?”

“I don’t know if…” He spluttered over his words as his hand pushed yours away, eyes wide and demeanor completely stiff as he struggled to swallow the medicine that he had fed you so many times before. Serves him fucking right. “Y/n, I’m not sure if…”

“You know, all these times that we’ve been around each other lately, I thought we were going to fuck again.” You put your hand right back where it had been, because you knew his limits, and he knew yours. If he was really against what you were proposing, he would’ve been out of that bathroom long ago. And he wouldn’t be staring at you the way he was.

“You said you never wanted me to fuck you again.” He breathed unevenly as he spoke, your hand slowly starting to peel his belt open as he watched with hooded eyes. It was the stupid ‘Knoxville’ belt that was becoming more and more of a staple in his wardrobe as the days went on. Hell, he’d even let you wear it a couple times before…well, before.

“I lied. I miss you.” More missed his dick than anything else, but that wasn’t in great taste to say at the present moment. Especially when you could tell that he was still teetering between feeling guilty for what he was doing and helping you pull his belt from each loop of his jeans.

“Don’t say that.” He muttered, pulling his lip between his teeth and looking down at you like it pained him to listen to you talk. You just gave him a sour look, dropping his belt onto the floor and listening to the satisfying sound of the buckle hitting tile.

“Is she here?” You asked boldly after a second of letting him look at you. You weren’t sure whether or not you were going to be annoyed if he said yes or slightly disappointed if he said no. Maybe a little bit of both. His jaw clenched, and you started to undo the zipper of his pants to add fuel to the fire that was what you suspected his answer was going to be.

“Yes she’s here. Would you–would you slow down, please?” He said, sounding slightly agitated as his hand stilled your fingers at the zipper of his Dickies. You clenched your jaw in an attempt to control your temper, starting to get irritated with his indecisiveness over your current situation. “She’s…she’s waiting for me.”

“Yeah? Then why the fuck have you been sitting in a bathroom with a case of beer and a bitchy look on your face all night?” You asked critically, letting your lack of patience bleed through your voice for a moment. He looked a little taken aback by your observation, and he spluttered momentarily before he cleared his throat to respond.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” That’s what he came up with. That was his lame-ass fucking excuse while he forced you to stand there and wait for him to make up his mind about some stupid girl you had never even heard speak before. You were sure he cared about her just as much as he cared about everyone else he was supposed to be showing an ounce of respect towards. You threw a hand in the air, starting to put space between the two of you. You weren’t going to stand in the bathroom with him all night while he decided on whether or not he was going to commit. God knows how he did with committing to things.

“I’m not asking you to talk about it, for fuck’s sake. I’m asking you to make up your fucking mind and stop acting like a mopey little bitch while you sit here and whine.” You spoke a little harsher than you intended, but you knew deep down that he could handle it. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it, anyway. “Fuck me or don’t. You’ve got ten seconds.”

And, of course, he chose to use those ten seconds to stare at you, lips parted in a look that you had seen so many times before. He was giving you your answer without making a sound. Despite how macho and composed Johnny Knoxville wanted to seem, he would fold at your feet if you raised your voice at him even a little.

Just as you were opening your mouth to give some smart-ass retort about his weak resolve in that very department, he was suddenly reaching out and pulling you back from where you’d stepped away from him, his lips finding yours as soon as your chest pressed up against his. You could taste the beer on his breath, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss at the triumph of getting what you had secretly known you wanted so fucking badly ever since you’d gotten over the initial anger of your breakup. You knew it was hypocritical to tease him for his weak resolve when you didn’t even have a resolve when it came to him. He was your Kryptonite.

Johnny broke the kiss after a second, his demeanor now completely relaxed as he kept one hand on your arm and the other on your cheek. “God, you make me miss you so fucking much.”

You didn’t respond, just kissed him again. You weren’t ready for the whole ‘I miss you every waking moment that I’m not around you and it physically pains me that you’re not mine anymore’ conversation in the middle of someone you barely knew’s bathroom, and you had grown sick of talking anyway. Johnny didn’t complain, and this time he allowed you to get his zipper the rest of the day down without a word as his lips trailed down your neck.

“Fuck me. Right now. I don’t want to wait.” You said as soon as you had his zipper undone, your hands already pushing his pants down his hips as you leaned away so that he was forced to look at you. You’d been staring at him for too long with no outlet over the past few weeks to go through even more waiting when you had him right there and ready in front of you.

“Yeah. Okay.” He was breathless, and seemed to be stuck in limbo as he watched you push his Dickies the rest of the day down before hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers and doing the same. He was already haard, just as you had anticipated despite his protesting about his so-called ‘girlfriend’. It made you feel a small, spiteful surge of accomplishment as he returned the favor, pulling the dress that you were wearing up over your hips before ripping the fishnets you were wearing right at the crotch. You huffed at him.

“Seriously? I just got these.” You couldn’t decide whether or not to be mad that he’d just wasted ten dollars of your hard-earned money or deeply aroused that he was being so careless with you. It was like he was reading your mind. He scoffed, showing that he clearly didn’t care as he pulled your underwear to the side through the crude hole in your tights.

“Good.” He breathed, pushing you back slightly so that your ass was up against the sink as he pulled one of your legs up so that he had a grip on the bottom of your thigh and your legs spread wide open for him. Your mouth dropped open as your body quickly decided on the deeply aroused option, and you wrapped an arm around his shoulders as you stared at him.

“Can you go rough?” Your voice had suddenly lost its force, and you sounded like a little kid begging for ten extra minutes after bedtime as he lined the head of his cock up with your entrance with the hand that wasn’t holding your leg up. You were already dripping wet (who could blame you?), and you knew he could tell by the way his eyes darted up to yours with a small smirk on his face.

“Stop fuckin’ begging me for things.” He said after a second, his lips dropping down to your neck as he pushed into you. Every back-of-your-mind warning about how bad of an idea this was immediately dissipated at the feeling of his cock sliding fully into you, a sensation that made you gasp out at the same time that he let out a little groan right in your ear. If you had been fucked before, you definitely were now (no pun intended).

“Fuck, baby–”

“Stop.” The moment that he stopped you from calling him baby, which was more of an accident and a reflex than an actual formed thought, would’ve been awkward at any other time, but you were too turned on and distracted by the feeling of him pulling out and then slamming back into you to care. “I’m not in the mood, Y/n.”

“Yeah? Then fuck me like it.” You were so clearly instigating as you mumbled into his ear, and you could tell that you hit him right where you were aiming for when his lips stilled on your neck and then his head pulled away from you. Then, in a moment that nothing was ever going to compare to for the rest of your life, he slapped you right across the face and then grabbed your jaw between his fingers while he continued to fuck you.

“Shut the fuck up.” He said through his teeth, a moment of something you didn’t see in him often taking over as the hand that had just made contact with your cheek moved to your throat instead. He didn’t grip tight, but he didn’t have to. Despite the fact that he’d literally just told you to shut the fuck up, you moaned loudly, one hand coming up to circle his wrist where his hand was at your throat. You couldn’t help yourself. You had no reserves when it came to erotic violence.

“PJ.” That definitely hadn’t been on purpose, and you almost blushed at how loudly his name had just fallen from your lips. At that moment he seemed to realize what he’d just done, and even though he didn’t stop thrusting his cock into you hard enough to guarantee that you were going to be extremely sore by the time you left the bathroom, he grimaced and took his hand off of your throat to brush his fingers across your probably-red cheek.

“You okay?” He mumbled, clearly not taking a good enough hint by the unbroken stream of gasps and whimpers that were coming out of your mouth as he continued to fuck you like his life depended on it. Every thrust of his hips seemed to hit you deeper and deeper, and it didn’t help that it felt like he was subconsciously pulling your leg up higher every few seconds to make sure that he had you as open as possible for the cock that was currently splitting you open.

“Again.” You begged, voice coming out strained and broken as you tried to form coherent sentences through the waves of pleasure that were making your heart race and your legs shake. No one knew how to fuck you like Johnny did. You had to shut your mind off when you started to wonder how many girls thought that same exact thing when he was fucking them. That was not a place you wanted to go when he was currently so intimately close to you. He let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“You’re fucking crazy.” He shook his head as he let you take his hand and bring it back to your throat from where it had been at your cheek. You couldn’t call him baby, but he could cradle your face like he did when you’d been deeply in love and having sex way nicer than what you were having now. Typical.

“Ple–” You had just been about to give up your pride and beg, when suddenly he cut your voice off by doing exactly what you’d asked, hitting you just as hard as he had before at the same time that the tip of his cock hit that sweet spot inside of you for the first time that night. If what the two of you were holed up in the bathroom doing together had been a secret before, it definitely wasn’t after that, because the sound that came out of your mouth was not one that could’ve been mistaken for anything other than proof that you were definitely getting the attitude fucked out of you. You secretly hoped his stupid girlfriend was in earshot.

“Good fucking girl. Show me how much you love taking cock.” Johnny crooned his words like it was the sweetest thing he’d ever said despite how filthy what he was saying really was. You were a little surprised, because you’d assumed that he was going to want you to be as quiet as possible, but with your orgasm getting closer and closer, you didn’t really stop and think long enough for you to actually care.

Despite how much control he’d been displaying so far, you could tell that Johnny’s resolve was starting to crack. He was fucking you so hard that your head and shoulders were hitting the cheap mirror/medicine cabinet behind you, which was making aloud slamming sound, and every break of his voice was villed with a grunt or a groan that got louder with each second that passed.

“Shit, PJ. I’m gonna cum. Fucking…keep going.” You moaned, the hand that was gripping his shoulder starting to dig your fingernails in a little deeper than what was probably comfortable for him as he picked up his pace up in lieu of what you had just said to him. This was what you loved. Ridiculously loud sex where everyone around you could probably easily figure out what you were doing while the two of you were so entrance with each other that neither one cared.

“You gonna cream on my cock? Mark what’s fucking yours?” God, he was just making it worse and worse. It’s like he wanted you to make you fall in love with him all over again…because you’d totally stopped doing that. You really hoped he didn’t notice the heart-eyes stare you were giving him. There was a thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead, and his eyes were slammed shut in pleasure, which was when he was at his hottest in your opinion.

I love you. I love you. I love you. You couldn’t help it. It was all you could do not to let those words make it past your lips as he hit that sweet spot once more, pushing you into spilling over the edge as you did exactly what he had just asked of you. You dropped your forehead to his shoulder as you cried out, your whole body jerking as your orgasm was pushed further by the fact that his thrusts didn’t cease their harsh pace.

“Fuck, sweetheart. This pussy was fucking made for me.” Johnny groaned, pulling your leg up just a little more than what you could handle in his fucked out haze. You gasped slightly, half because you were bordering on overstimulation and half because he had for sure just pulled multiple muscles in your leg. Suddenly, his eyes shot back open. “Damn it. We forgot a condom.”

Fuck. So much for Bam’s present.

“Pull out.” You panicked, hoping that he was actually listening to you and not just going into ‘fuck until I can’t anymore’ mode, which was a frequent habit of his. He managed to chuckle through the increasingly frequent moans making their way out of his mouth, an idea clearly forming on his face as he looked down between the two of you where his cock was still dragging in and out of you over and over again.

“Look.” He demanded, clearly requesting that you let your eyes drop down to where his were focused. You grimaced, because he didn’t always have the best ideas, but did as he asked, looking down where his hips were starting to stutter. Sometimes you were really shocked by how impressive his stamina was even after as many beers as he had gone through in such a short period of time. “M’ not gonna cum in you. Just gonna make sure you’re not fuckin’ anyone else tonight.”

“What the fuck does that m–” Before you could even fully get your sentence out, he let out a loud, stuttered groan, and then he was cumming directly onto your pussy, stroking himself through his orgasm as he took his turn to drop his head onto your shoulder. He was insane. Actually. Fucking. Insane. You just stared at him for a second, in shock that he had actually just done that. Johnny Knoxville, who had started the night out trying to get away from you so that he wouldn’t have to talk to you.

“Wish I had a camera.” He said breathlessly, loosening his harsh grip on your leg a little once he realized how high he’d been holding it, and in the weird position that he had been holding it in. If you hadn’t known fully well that the girl he had shown up with was probably actively looking for him by now, you would’ve immediately pushed him down to his knees and made him clean you up with his mouth. But, instead, you were forced to let him pull your underwear right back into place, watching as he pressed his palm directly into place to smooth the fabric in while he grinned like a fucking idiot.

“Come here.” If he was going to do that shit, you were getting payback before you made your exit from the bathroom that was starting to reek of sex. You didn’t know how he fell for it, but he did, immediately accepting your request and letting you wrap your arms around his waist. You began to press kisses to his neck, which earned you a lot of responsive gasps and shaky breathing as he was distracted by the fact that you were hitting all of his sweet spots. What he didn’t notice was that you were sucking the biggest, darkest hickeys you could possibly muster on every inch of his throat and jaw, leaving him looking like an overzealous teenager in their first real romance.

However, when you broke away from him and handed him his boxers, he happened to glance up at the mirror, and immediately went pale at the sight of his dark and purple-spotted neck.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He deadpanned, a hand running over the expanse of his throat as he stared at his reflection with a look that had rivaled your own when you’d watched him cum on you only a couple minutes before. You weren’t much better off, with two decently-red handprints on your cheek and a couple of faint hickeys on your neck, but you still laughed at him.

“Payback’s a bitch, Knoxville.” You blew him a kiss over his shoulder as you pulled your dress back down, hoping that you looked at least half-presentable so that you didn’t have everyone eyeing you up suspiciously for the rest of the night. You really didn’t mind the post-fuck look, but you did mind the crude comments that came from space-invading men with a little too much booze in their system. It was a good thing you were starting to get a craving for a joint, because you knew Bam would go outside to smoke with you even if he didn’t want to hear about the sex you’d just been having. You looked back at Johnny once more as your hand made contact with the door handle. “Give your girlfriend a kiss for me. And tell me what she thinks of my decorations when you get the chance.”

You made sure to slip out of the bathroom before he could get a word in, because you knew that you had just royally pissed him off, only to run almost directly into the back of a loudly-shouting Bam Margera. He whipped around as soon as you made contact, evidently about to lay into the douche party-goer that had just spilled a little bit of his beer, only to have a look of concern flood his face instead when he got a good look at you.

“Did that motherfucker slap you?” His eyes immediately darted towards the door as his face changed like he was going to storm towards it, and you grabbed his arm before he could go rushing in there to berate a probably still-pantsless Johnny Knoxville inside.

“Consensual! Don’t worry!” You said with a playful grin, watching his face screw up in disgust as soon as the words were out of your mouth just like you thought it would. He looked you over, his eyes clearly catching the hickeys and the rips of your fishnets that were just visible below the hem of your dress with an extremely judgemental look on his face.

“You two sounded like you were fucking killing each other in there. Did you use all of those condoms?” You couldn’t tell if he sounded impressed or disgusted. Probably a little bit of both. Your playful grin turned into a sheepish one, and you made sure to take a step away from the rest of the people around you so that everyone else wasn’t getting more of an earful about what you had just been doing than they already had.

“Uh…actually none of them.” You admitted, wincing when you saw the look that quickly set on his face. You put your hands up in defense, mentally reminding yourself that you were blaming it on alcohol consumption and definitely not the fact that you might’ve been a little obsessed with the feeling of Johnny cumming in you. Bam certainly didn’t need to know that. “It was an accident! And he didn’t even really cum in me, anyway.”

“Dude. What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” Bam groaned, throwing a hand in the air like an exasperated parent of irresponsible teenagers. “I gave you condoms for a reason.”

“Did you know that he has a girlfriend?” You ignored his lecturing, making a face at how quickly alcohol pushed that admission right out of your mouth. Bam looked bewildered as he handed you a new beer.

“And you two…fucked?” Bam, of all people, was giving you a judgemental stare. You shrugged aggressively, popping your beer tap with one of the rings on your fingers and then taking a big swig.

“Don’t give me that look. Have you ever actually seen those two within five feet of each other?” You defended yourself, pulling a joint out of the pocket of your coat that he was still holding before motioning towards the side door that led outside.

“No, but…damn, dude. I didn’t know you could just openly admit that he’s cheating.” Bam muttered, opening the door for you and then sliding it closed behind himself once the two of you stepped outside.

“You’re making me feel guilty.” You complained as he handed you a lighter to spark up the joint that you had just put between your lips. Surprisingly, there was no one outside except for a couple who looked like there were a couple seconds from fucking in the pool, so the two of you just turned your backs and faced the other way for decency’s sake.

“Sorry, man. You two are just some weird-ass people.” He shook his head to himself, side-eyeing you like he hadn’t told you some seriously fucked-up shit that he’d done with and for significant others. Hypocrisy at its finest.

“Don’t care.” You took the first hit off the spliff, savoring the burn in your throat that cleared the fog out of your head a little bit of the mess that had been this night. “On the bright side, that was like, the best fucking sex ever.”

“I don’t understand how you like being hit. On purpose.” Bam judged, motioning to the handprints on your cheek before accepting the spliff when you handed it over. You wrinkled your nose at him, taking another sip of your beer and glancing through the window of the house to see if you could make out Johnny. You kind of wanted to see the aftermath of what his girlfriend seeing all the hickeys on his neck was going to be.

“Will you just let me exist? God. You don’t know what it’s like until you’ve done it, asshole.” You groaned, running a hand over your face and silently wishing that he wouldn’t take so long deepthroating your joint.

“I’ve been slapped by Knoxville like, a million times. Never made me jizz my pants.” Bam said crudely as he handed the joint back over, shrugging like it couldn’t have concerned him less.

“Well good for you. Can’t say the same.” You grinned at the disgusted look that quickly formed on his face at your words. Suddenly, as if the two of you had spoken it into existence, the side door slammed open, and then shut, and then you both turned and watched a suspiciously familiar blonde girl stomping her way across the lawn and then out of sight towards the side street behind the house.

“No fucking way that’s her.” Bam snickered, looking back towards you with a look of pure enjoyment on his face that rivaled your own as you both broke into a fit of laughter at the sight of Johnny’s girlfriend clearly running away from him. And then, just to make it ten times better, suddenly the side door was behind pulled open again, and then out came the man of the hour.

“Knoxville, you are one stupid fucker.” Bam whooped in Johnny’s direction, flipping him off while Johnny just, as always, grinned like an idiot. And, of course, things could never go well for you, because then Johnny was diverting off of his path to come straight in your direction.

“Why thank you.” He said, sounding completely good-natured despite the fact that his girlfriend had just vacated the party for reasons that everyone could easily guess. The hickeys on his neck had only deepened in color since you’d left him in the bathroom, and you could so clearly see that he didn’t care. He jutted his thumb back in the direction that his girlfriend had gone. “Probably fucked that up, though.”

“Can tell you’re really torn up about it.” You said dryly, taking a long hit in an attempt to keep yourself calm and collected. If only he could take things seriously for once in his life instead of turning everything into one big joke.

“Yeah, and I have you to thank for that, don’t I?” Suddenly he was way too up close and personal in your space, and then he was towering over you as he used his height as an advantage that he didn’t often take. “Don’t go switching up on me, now.”

“Okay. You should probably go chase after Melissa or Courtney, or whatever.” You pushed him back a little bit by his shoulders, consciously aware of the fact that Bam was watching every second of your interaction with an entertained grin on his face.

“Whaddya mean? I got the only girl I need right here.” It’s like he wanted to be punched. Or slapped, at the very least. And then, to add the sickly sweet cherry on top, he looked right at the dirty look on your face and then pressed a kiss to your lips. Right in front of Bam.

“PJ.” You snapped, giving him a warning look with your hand now permanently pushing him back by his shoulder. Deep down you knew that if Bam hadn’t been there, the two of you would’ve been making out by now, and you could tell that Johnny was thinking the same thing, but for the time being he just put up his hands in surrender.

“I’m going! I’m going.” And then he was walking off in the direction that his girlfriend had run off in, whistling to himself as he went. You slowly looked towards Bam, who was already staring at you, and jabbed a finger at him when he opened his mouth to speak.

“Don’t say anything. Not. A. Fucking. Word.”

#johnny knoxville #johnny knoxville x reader #johnny knoxville smut #bam margera #jackass #jackass imagine #jackass movie #jackass mtv #it’s long but i promise it’s worth it <3

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spicyicymeloncat · 2 years

Text

Is it just me or is it really easy to forget how fricked up the Pixal inside Zane’s head situation was?

Like 1) they both basically died, and barely get the privacy to process that alone, 2) it probably fed into both of their saviour complexes, with Pixal having to assist Zane in his tasks, and Zane being wholly responsible for Pixal’s wellbeing, but largely it’s just a loss of privacy and freedom in general.

And I like pixane, and I think their communication in s8 really helped but like man…

My headcanon is that decoded was basically a response to pixal’s absense in Zane’s head (I am now reminded of that one scene where Zane softly says that he misses her). With Pixal gone, Zane had to sort his own files although Nya helped. Although this did allow Zane to go much more in depth with his search which he may have not done before in order to not like, trauma dump on Pixal. What if another part of the reason Zane locked the overlord memories away is also because it’s upsetting for Pixal, seeing how she was once corrupted by him and also how she saw Zane die.

What if the reason why the overlord code was able to activate specifically at the time of decoded, was because Zane was feeling more lonely than ever without Pixal.

But ofc Pixal came back to the team’s main computer somehow and curiously not specifically to Zane’s head, and i wanna know how that went down.

My bet is that, after learning about what happened in decoded, Pixal came back online, feeling bad that she left when Zane seemed to go through something vulnerable that she could have maybe helped with. But I think Zane would decide that actually, he should focus on healing on his own instead of relying on Pixal to be in his mind. Also because he can kinda tell she left for a reason but he doesn’t want to force her to talk about it, so he’s the one to offer that she doesn’t have to be confined to his mind. Pixal says she’ll be in the computer, and she’s not ready to admit she became samurai x, possibly out of guilt that she thinks she’s more useful in the computer (but she is taking baby steps to move out of Zane’s mind). She also doesn’t want to worry him further, and she’s still getting used to having a body, as well as being an independent hero and doesn’t feel ready to have people know about it.

So in the time skip between s7-8, Zane and Pixal are getting used to being independent of each other, and I just like the idea that they support each other’s healing and processes, and although they’ve been through it, and had some major bumps in their relationship, they eventually talk it out and take the time heal from it.

#it’s 2:00 am #if this doesn’t make sense sorry #ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago analysis #ninjago zane #ninjago pixal #ninjago pixane

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queenburd · 10 months

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IM NOT MAKING A FULL FIC FOR THIS THING, YOU GET THIS.

|.|.|

“Nobody's asked me to tell them a story in a while,” the Narrator says softly, looking a little lost. His hands fidget with each other, fingers rubbing the knuckles. He glances up to meet Stanley's eyes. “Are you certain?”

Stanley sighs. He makes a little gesture, a go on. “Let's hear it.”

The Narrator swallows. He thinks long and hard, so long the silence encroaches on all sides in the dark, surrounding them in this place by the escape pod. Stanley leans his back against it and tries not to be impatient; but it isn't like a Narrator to not talk, to think so carefully about every word. Is it? In any case, it's starting to get to him.

But he said he wasn't getting into this pod until the fellow told him why he was doing all this, and Stanley sticks with his decisions. No matter how the Narrator tries to make him regret it.

(Shit, that's not fair. Not this Narrator, just his—fucking hell, this is unnecessarily confusing.)

“You are so incredibly irritable,” the Narrator says flatly, hands in his lap.

“I told you to stop poking around my skull.”

“I'm trying! I'm sorry, Stanley, it's a bad habit, I'm just much more accustomed to nonverbal iterations. I do try to keep it surface level to respect your privacy, but you are being loudly unpleasant and it's distracting.”

“God, you're just as snide as he is.”

The fellow's face falls, and his eyes dart away. Shit.

Stanley scrubs his hands over his face. “I'm sorry,” he grinds out. “I haven't had to be nice to anyone in... ever. Fuck.”

“It's alright,” the Narrator says easily, and that's just so weird, that voice devoid of judgment or harshness. Something in Stanley rattles at the wrongness of it. He quiets it fiercely. Let it be.

“Right! Okay,” the fellow slaps his thigh lightly, aggressively changing the subject. “Alright, here we go. This is the story of a man named Stanley.”

Stanley groans. The Narrator giggles (giggles!), grinning childishly at him in a sidelong glance. “I'm joking! Oh, let me have my fun, it's been ages since I got to start a story, and the beginning is always the most difficult.”

Thudding his head back against the side of the pod, Stanley gestures again. “Just get this over with.”

The Narrator laughs a little. “Thank you. Humor me for a moment, alright?”

“Mhm.”

The fellow inhales deeply, and then begins, voice smooth and strong.

“This is the Story of a man named Stanley.

Stanley worked for a company in a big building where he was Employee #427. Employee #427's job was simple: he sat at his desk in Room 427 and he pushed buttons on a keyboard.”

The Narrator swallows and his next words are still steady, but chosen very carefully.

“He was very good at it.”

Stanley blinks. That's new. He looks at the Narrator, but the Narrator isn't looking at him. He's staring at the ground.

“One day Stanley looked up from his computer to find all his coworkers missing—if they had ever been there at all—and a voice telling him a story about himself. He obeyed the voice's narrations, found a mind control facility, turned it off, and left. So it was with shock that Stanley awoke sitting at his desk, as though he had just had a very realistic dream.

So he did it again. And then again. And every time was the same. And so it came to pass that Stanley began to fight for control over his own actions, against a Narrator who wanted to tell a story about freedom, and control. For a long time, neither of them were able to capture the true irony of the concepts. They played this tug of war with each other for an imperceptible length of time, always in step with each other, like they were made to do just this, in perpetuity. And indeed, they had been.”

He sounds so far away. Miles and years separate him from Stanley, his voice the tether between them.

“Yet despite this game of spite and control, Stanley was at heart a decent fellow. Even in the face of insurmountable odds and endless deaths, he made the active decision to not give as good as he got. For all that the voice treated him with cruelty and judgment and dismissal, when the opportunity came for him to cause it pain, he only chose it with great misery. He found no satisfaction in it. He was, in every way, a better person than it deserved by any means.”

A room with lights. A stairwell to nowhere. One of the few ways he could hurt the thing that loved to hurt him. The Narrator meets his gaze and nods, but continues without comment.

“After a time, Stanley's Narrator finally remembered that the story he was so protective of was supposed to have a happy ending. So it was with shame, and regret, that he acknowledged his own failures, both as a storyteller and as an individual. He decided to be better, to do better, not in the attempts to befriend his protagonist, but because it was his responsibility. He had, after all, made Stanley, and the world Stanley was trapped in, hadn't he? Wasn't it his obligation to take care of those things? Even if Stanley never forgave him, the narrator would—would...”

He trails off, and there is such a sadness in his face. Despite himself, Stanley wants to put his hand on the fellow's shoulder to ground him. But the Narrator squeezes his eyes shut, hard, and then shakes his head firmly, before he speaks again.

“And then one day something very frightening occurred. Something that would forever change Stanley, his Narrator, and the nature of their relationship. He had been sitting in the Museum for nearly half an hour trying to avoid the voice, when he realized that on the wall in front of him was a list. He had seen this list many times of course, but he had never really thought as to what it meant. So it was with confusion and growing concern that he finally paid attention to the large word written above the list.

Credits.”

The Narrator shivers.

“And there, on the wall, were names, and included in the list were things like “Stanley Model” and “Narrator”, with names attached. It was with horror that the realization struck Stanley in the face—not only was he not real, as the Narrator had always said, but so indeed was the voice that had relentlessly pursued him. It, too, was little more than trapped within the confines of the game that it claimed to have created. They were not captive and captor, but in fact two prisoners in an endless hell, designed for this hell. He had not, in fact, been in opposition to a godlike entity, but a thing even more trapped than he was. It couldn't follow him everywhere.

And the saddest fact of the matter was that it didn't even know. It had no idea that it was--”

The Narrator stops, covering his mouth as he inhales sharply. “I'm sorry,” he says, his voice wavering. He doesn't look at Stanley. “I—I'm sorry, I thought I was past this, do give me a moment--”

“Hey, hey,” Stanley starts, and this time he does place his hand on the Narrator's shoulder. He doesn't know if he's the best person for keeping someone calm. “Take it easy.”

There's a broken giggle, somewhat hysterical. “I—Ha. One would think, after years of having this information, it would stop driving me to the borders of madness.”

The Narrator takes a deep, fortifying breath. “I'm alright. Thank you. I'm sorry, this—the story's getting away from me. It should be shorter from here.”

“It's fine,” Stanley says, brow furrowed. He finds, honestly, that he doesn't mind it, though it does leave him a little shaken. He feels like this is new information, but at the same time, it feels like somewhere deep in his gut he already knew. Isn't that strange?

One more deep breath, and then the Narrator speaks again.

“Armed with this new information, Stanley and the Narrator decided together that they would make the best of the world they had access to, and they chose together to tell a new story within it. One of companionship, and compromise. And so the years passed with the two of them working together as equals within the confines of the Parable. They made jokes out of every ending, imbued them with new meaning and context. They managed to find ways to surprise the other, and keep it all refreshing.”

“It was with the introduction of the Stanley Parable: Ultra Deluxe that new assets were added to the game, giving them more ideas and more ways to surprise and delight each other. After a time, when the attention for the game had died down a bit, Stanley's Narrator made something quite special. After years of being little more than a voice in an office, he had made a character model with the new assets and features.”

He looks at his hands, turning them at the wrist, a smile stretched across his face.

“The Narrator always struggled with making choices, but he was quite happy with the end result, because he felt it really captured how he had changed and grown as a person. Stanley certainly approved of it. For a time, they ran through the Parable and all its endings, simply happy to make new memories and meanings alongside the old ones. It was after they had explored all their options and become as close as two people could ever be, that the Narrator finally managed to find a way to get the escape pod to work. They decided that they would leave the Parable together, two best friends in a new world.”

So strength in his voice, such warm joy. Stanley's only ever heard his Narrator speak like this in regards to jokes about the bucket.

It makes the next bit all the more painful:

“Only, when the pod door closed, the lights went out, and when they came back on again, the Narrator was alone.”

He sounds dead. He sounds hollowed out.

(“the end is never the end is ne--”)

A hand smacks at Stanley's arm lightly, halting his thoughts. There's very little light in the Narrator's eyes when he shakes his head. Don't. Do not think about that.

“Sorry,” Stanley says, feeling a little cold. Yeah, it's a bad spiral to remember even secondhand, so he can only imagine how experiencing it was. The emptiness in the Narrator's voice was just...

He can imagine that, for a while, the thought would have looped, and looped, and looped. The Narrator was alone.

The Narrator curls his arms around himself, curls them in his sleeves. He stares at his shoes.

“When he came to his wits, the Narrator found himself in a Parable that wasn't his own, with a different Stanley and a different Narrator, and a dynamic that had never gotten further than Stanley choosing kindness and the Narrator choosing cruelty. Horrified, and confused, the Narrator worked with this new Stanley to get to the escape pod, to freedom, in the hopes that maybe this time, they could get out together and find his Stanley, and then everything would be okay.

And then the pod door closed, the lights went out, and when they came back on, the Narrator was alone. Again.

And again.

And again.”

He stops talking.

There is no The End. There is no conclusion to the story. Because, Stanley realizes with growing nausea, for this Narrator:

The end was never the end. Not ever.

“How many times--”

“I've lost count,” comes the dull reply. “I don't want to count. I don't want to know. I just need to help you escape, because every time is the same. The Parable pits Narrator and Protagonist against each other, the struggle for control against each other never gets better, and in fact it only ever seems to end in the Narrator being so pigheaded and arrogant that his counterpart risks being crushed under the weight of it. I couldn't bear it, Stanley, I couldn't bear seeing every version of me try to destroy every version of him.”

There's disgust in his tone, disgust Stanley is familiar with and is usually the cause of. To see a Narrator direct it at what is basically himself makes his stomach turn. The fellow laughs humorlessly.

“That's the joke, isn't it? Perhaps I could have learned to one day forgive myself for being so cruel in the beginning, if I had managed to escape. Perhaps I'm actually meant to be beyond redemption, and this is a forceful reminder from the Parable that I'll never be more. Or,” and he laughs again, verging again into the hysterical, “perhaps I have become more, and that was the problem, because I was never supposed to change. Perhaps I'm the one iteration that broke the game, and this is just my punishment for it.”

“No,” Stanley says, “No, no, fuck that.”

A snort, perhaps a touch dismissive, which makes his hackles raise. “What do you think, then? Is there a point to this? God, why did I even--”

“Stop. Hey, stop.”

The Narrator inhales sharply, and then covers his mouth again, eyes squeezed shut. Stanley pretends not to notice the tear that escapes.

“I think,” Stanley says, and it's hard to do this, because he's not good at comfort, but dammit he's going to try, “I think that you're doing a good thing. You're helping us, right? You, you're choosing to help us. I think that's admirable.”

Silence, for a moment. The Narrator swallows.

“Scale of one to five, just how much of getting that out felt like swallowing tacks?”

“Ugh, five five five,” Stanley groans, head forcefully thudding back against the pod wall again. “Imagine me just slamming that button repeatedly.

The Narrator laughs. Stanley can't help himself—he grins, shaking his head at nothing.

#The Sparrow Parable #may writes #repeat and write this story

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