#sorry if this has typos but it’s also more then I was planning to write so yea 🤠

[otdiaftg]

WHAT'S NEXT:

The out pouring of love for this blog has swept me off my feet. I knew the logic behind the follower count, but this weekend proved to me without a shadow of a doubt just how much this fandom cherishes these characters and this story.

I am overwhelmed with adoration towards every. single. one. of you.

I took the weekend to finally recoup after the whirlwind of this past year but wanted to take a moment now to answer some of the questions I've seen pop up and to inform you all of what my plans are for what's next.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:

WILL YOU CONTINUE THE ACCOUNT THIS YEAR?

This took me a long time to ponder and I wanted to make sure I was in the correct headspace to answer it. Short answer: No.

Long answer: All For The Game is near and dear to my heart. And the reason I began this account was because the dates for 2023 matched that of the dates they were meant to be in 2006. To continue it in the year 2024 would mean the dates would be completely wrong and a lot more logistics would have to occur beforehand.

But also-- I'm not the best when it comes to technology, especially when it comes to BOTS so every post that was published was typed out, formatted and scheduled by hand by me. I did not have help. I did not have proofreaders, or editors, or managers. I contacted all the artists myself, sorted through every single page of the artists to find matches to the story, read and re-read the books for exact or guesstimation of dates/times, and made a hell of a lot of typos on the way through all that.

There was probably an easier way that I could have done all this. But I didn't/don't know it. So that all boils down to: It’s a long and tiring process.

Don't get me wrong, it was worth all the hours. And all the sleepless nights I had getting everything done and out. I already thanked my support network, but without my wife and my best friend being there to make me another cup of coffee, walk our dog, do the chores and generally make sure I didn't crumble from the pressure -- none of this would have happened.

So, putting myself through that again, after everything that has happened this year alone-- felt like it would cheapen the experience I had when the dates won't even match.

That being said.... 2034 isn't that far away. >__>

WILL YOU BE DOING AN OTDITSC?

Short answer: No.... sorry.

Long answer: As stated, it is VERY hard to organize what and how I did. HOURS spent researching, organizing, scheduling, etc. Time spent away from my family and other hobbies. NOT time I regret (need to keep prefacing that) but time I want back now. At least for a little bit.

It also doesn't sit right for me to start an OTDITSC when I know some people are still waiting for their copies. There are so many of us out here (as I've come to find out) and I don't want to exclude people's enjoyment and connection that this account gives. I also feel like the more posts about TSC out there, the harder it is for those who are (lets say) waiting for the physical copies to block/mute spoilers. We can say a tag is enough, but this is the internet. And that's not always true.

And lastly, personally, TSC is still SO VERY NEW. It's not even complete yet and we don't 100% know when the next one will be published. I don't want to start something, get to the end of the timeline, and than have a huge gap between posts that will potentially be moments in the second book. It doesn't feel fair to their story, to myself, or to the followers of this account to have incorrect information for something I love so dearly. If I'm doing it. I want to do it right.

SO, WHAT'S NEXT?

Well. A lot. For me personally, as well as this account. I don't want to leave everyone in such a finite way. I love this fandom. I love its art and writings and the abundance of talent and joy that it exudes.

So first, for myself, as well as those artists who agreed to help with this account, I want to post, for the next 40 days Artist Highlights (that means this account will still be active until Friday, May 24th).

Every day, I will post about an Artist and the work that I wanted to post but couldn't fit in. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, these artists are the reason this account thrives. Art, in a multitude of forms, speaks in a way words can not. And these artists prove that.

I'm excited to show them off for a couple more weeks at least. They are all wonderful people.

AND, FINALLY:

To also tie us over, I am opening both my personal account as well as this account to questions.

Questions regarding the process, the story, the best movie out in theaters, whatever. I will be answering your questions (as fast as I can) until that last Artists Highlight day (Friday, May 24th). After this day, I will leave the questions answered up for a week, and then remove/delete them from this account. I want to make this more of an archive of sorts and will be updating the Timeline Page as this progresses as well, so you can move freely within the timeline.

Keep in mind that I am only one person, have a family and a full-time job-- so answers may be sporadic, but I will answer them.

This has truly been such a pleasure. And whether I get questions or not, I see you and I appreciate you. I hope your life is filled with everything you ever want, everything you need, and that you never let it go.

🦊 🧡- Kelysium

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #tkm #the kings men #the foxhole court #andrew minyard #palmetto state university #psu foxes #andreil #on this day in aftg #otdiaftg #palmetto state foxes #otdi all for the game #nora sakavic #the foxes #on this day in all for the game

[l3viat8an]

AHHH your ask box is finally working again!!!

okay so ik you made this post forever ago but you briefly mentioned soft dom mammon in it and I have been so excited to bring it up with you!!!

pls if you could spare any thoughts you may have on soft dom! Mammon 🤲🏻

even just a crumb, a morsel, I will be forever indebted to you!!!

And I hope you’re doing well and having a great weekend so far <3

- ♈️ anon

Nsfw!

Hiiii ♈️ ‘n omgg yes!! I’m always happy to share soft!dom Mammon or at least this is my attempt at soft!dom Mammon <3

CW: AFAB!Reader, overstimulation, fingering, praise and a bit of soft sex cuz yea :)

“You can give me another one, can’t ya?” Mammon asked like he was actually giving you a choice, two of his fingers currently circling your clit, feeling your muscles twitch from your last orgasm.

Your head had lolled back onto his shoulder, and his lips moved to your now exposed throat, sucking and biting at your skin as you whine “‘S’too much..Mams can’t…,” his fingers never actually stop abusing your clit, but he sighs against your skin. “I know, but you’re taking it so well, darlin’. you always take me so well.”

you made a sound somewhere between a whine and a groan, your body arching against Mammon as his fingers slid inside your pussy.

Pumping them in and out just fast enough to keep you on the edge of another orgasm, but not fast enough to push you over.

Squirming around in his lap you whine his name again, a little louder. Mammon stopped nibbling on your neck just long enough to mumble a “Yes?” while adding a third finger in.

Your eyelids squeeze shut and your fingers clawed at the material of the couch you were so close and he was teasing you! You take a deep breath and try again, “P-please Mammon. I want...want you.” his hard-on pushing against your back….

“Hmm? What do you want? Do ya more, darlin’?” You nodded eagerly and he chuckled.

Pulling his fingers away and turning you in his lap Mammon pressed his lips to yours, a few quick, soft kisses, before he’s gripping your hips and standing up.

You squealed, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked over to his bed, “Then let’s get to the bed, yea?” setting you down gently, so that you’re leaning against the headboard.

Oh fuck you felt, limp now…his beds always makes you feel so safe, even when he’s hovering above you with that hungry look in his eyes, you managed another small whine of, “Please.”

Mammon smirks down at you. This is always his favorite look on you. The sweet, fucked out one, where all you can think about is how much pleasure he was giving you and how you never wanted it to end.

“Yea. I’ll take care of ya treasure~ just relax for me.” Mammon, moved closer putting himself between your spread legs, making sure you were comfortable as one of his hands gripped your waist while the other lines his cock up with your dripping cunt.

He glanced up at you and you nodded again, as if you hadn’t already cum countless times tonight and just from his fingers, as if you he wasn’t just treating you like his toy-

He slid in slowly, immediately groaning when he felt your walls squeezing him, you whine a little at first but relax almost as quickly.

You were safe and Mammon made sure you knew that. He wanted a few more seconds until you nodded again and slow started pushing in again inch after inch. Until you were trembling again and he finally bottomed out.

“Good human, takin’ my cock like you were made for me.” Mammon praised you as he began to rock his hips into your.

He kept his thrusts slow, he wanted to feel you cumming around his cock again and again, until your thighs are trembling and muscles shaking with every rut of his hips into yours. Then he can finally fill you with his cum-

#1 am thots~ #sorry if this has typos but it’s also more then I was planning to write so yea 🤠 #♈️ anon! #obey me! #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x you #om! smut #om! mammon #om! x reader #om! x chubby reader #obey me #om! #obmswd #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x chubby reader #mammon x reader #obmswd mammon x reader #obmswd mammon #obmswd smut #obmswd x reader #obmswd x chubby reader #roro writes

[psychedelic-ink]

'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”  

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body. 

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper. 

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding. 

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim. 

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now. 

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.” 

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.” 

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand. 

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.” 

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know. 

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.” 

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.” 

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?” 

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.” 

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?” 

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.” 

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.” 

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while. 

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it. 

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like. 

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm. 

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt. 

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault. 

Then the kiss had happened. 

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt. 

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?” 

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that. 

But now you do. 

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.” 

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward. 

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?” 

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining  with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver. 

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.” 

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .” 

“Hear  that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” 

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?” 

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.” 

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?” 

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.” 

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.” 

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.” 

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you. 

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone. 

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.” 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.” 

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you. 

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns. 

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.” 

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates. 

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick. 

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you. 

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do. 

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets. 

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.” 

Joel squeezes your breast as  his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses. 

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you,  fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time. 

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously. 

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. 

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.” 

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile. 

“Inside me, daddy, please.” 

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—” 

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach. 

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him. 

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver. 

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.” 

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.” 

“Don’t have to what?” 

“Send the video.” 

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.” 

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.” 

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger. 

“I guess I will.”  

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tw daddy kink #tlou fanfic #the last fo us fanfiction #hbo tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic

[81folklore]

dress - SV5 - part 3

pairings: sebastian vettel x famous!reader (fc: taylor swift)

summary: the fans think they have finally recovered from the bombshell yn and seb dropped a year ago, only for it all to break down when she goes on tour

authors note: ok lets talk quickly, this is set in the future because past me wasnt planning on making more parts so i said there would be no tour, turns out i want the tour so lets fast forward to like summer 2024. seb and yn have still been keeping a pretty private relationship, but shes turned up in the background of sebs insta lives and hes been in the background of stories etc. next, shes on tour!! only really just started in the fic, maybe at show 30-35 and kinda like the actual eras tour its taken a little bit for her to be comfortable and seb has been backstage/not seen (yes this is important)

authors note 2: i mentioned a little bit ago that i wanted to do the rep vault tracks but i dont know when that will happen so in the meantime you can have this and then ill do one more part when rep tv and then i’ll probably end this fic (maybe i think i’ll definitely miss them)

authors note 3: hi this is from future me who has already finished writing. i apologize for how all over the place this is but as i already said i will be doing another chapter for the rep vault tracks and i love writing for these two so i probably wont ever end this fic.. anyways hope you enjoy!! (also i was watching smallishbeans while writing this so sorry for any typos😭)

part 1 part 2 masterlist

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, ynupdates and 8,361,819 others

cardiff that was so much fun!!! loved every single second of it and thank you for coming out to see me! see you soon london🫶

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yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher and 11,235,684 others

oh wow! london you have just blown me away, seeing not only you all inside the stadium but seeing videos of you all outside having the time of your lives makes my heart so warm!! i cant wait to play for you all again🐝

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landonorris and lilymhe added to their stories

seen by sebastianvettel, alex_albon and 1,345,257 others

taglist: @awekbachira

comment or message me to be added to the ‘dress’ taglist, also let me know if you want to be added to my overall fic taglist!!

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 smau #f1 social media au #social media au #formula 1 insta au #formula 1 social media au #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel fanfic #sebastian vettel #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #famous!swift!yn

[mariacrow]

Hi love, Let me start off with saying that I adore your writing! I was wondering if you could do some cute fluffy relationship head cannons with TFP Optimus, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee with a human female S/O please?

Totally okay if you ignore this one, just wanted to throw something out there. Keep up the amazing work!

Thank you, love 🥰 I planned on doing TFP Autobots relationship headcanons so here are your boys amongst everyone else ;)

This one is EVEN LONGER 💀 (that’s what she said pt. 2)

For Decepticon headcanons click here! 💜

I AM SORRY FOR ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES OR TYPOS, I DIED WRITING THIS 😭

TFP Autobots x reader

❀ relationship headcanons ❀

2nd person

female reader

how you’d get together, confession

how you’d function together, PDA

intimacy, preferences (NSFW)

how long would it last

excluding Arcee because I mainly do male characters

OPTIMUS PRIME

HE SAID 🤨

It would take a looooong time for you two to click. He would treat you equally like he does everyone else and not give you any signals, not even mixed, so you would think it’s impossible to take it to another level with him.

As time would pass though, you two would isolate yourselves more and more when you’d have a chance. He’d take you on long relaxing rides.

Most of the time he would let you blabber while he’d stay silent and listen. He can listen to your beautiful voice all day.

After a couple of romantic rides he’d finally confess to you, asking if it’s even possible for a creature like him to love a creature like you. He’d ask you to be his one and only, to conjux.

He’d totally understand if you’d reject him but of course you wouldn’t reject him, IT’S OPTIMUS PRIME, WHO WOULD REJECT OPTIMUS PRIME??? (lmao)

He’s okay with PDA but he’d still kinda avoid it, he prefers when you two have proper privacy. He’s often too busy throughout the day anyway.

But when you do get some alone time, he always makes sure it’s the best you’ll ever get.

His sex drive isn’t high but at times he would get intimate with you and make you feel special.

He’s quite romantic actually, vanilla yet very sensual. He would do anything to give you maximal pleasure.

He likes to take it slow and passionate, take his time with you but sometimes, just sometimes, when he has too much pent up stress, he’d take it a bit rougher than usual to relieve himself.

He’s not that vocal, definitely a groaning and grunting type. He’d praise you though, tell you how beautiful you are and how much he loves you.

Definitely calls you “little one”.

Prefers missionary or you riding while facing him so he can look at the complete soft beauty in front of him. Sometimes you push his size kink button which makes him tightly grab onto something, sometimes even damage it.

After he’d feel kinda bad, he’d make sure he didn’t hurt you or bring you any kind of displeasure. He’s the king of aftercare though, that’s for sure.

Da hell u mean how long would it last??? FOREVER OFC. IT’S OPTIMUS PRIME!!! 🤸‍♀️

🍓

RATCHET

Grumpy doc. (MY FAV!!!!!!!!!)

He’d pretend you annoy him the most just to deny his feelings.

As time would pass and as you’d grow on him more you’d catch him getting distracted by you. He’d just keep staring at you with a poker face, secretly admiring you. When you’d catch him he’d shake it off and continue his work.

Slowly he’d get overprotective, wanting to become your guardian probably. He’d also talk with you more often, perhaps even flirt a little with his old doc jokes, make you giggle and admire your blushy face.

He’d take advantage of some alone time with you in the base to confess. He’d let you sit on his shoulder for the first time while he works and talk quietly to you.

Finally he’d spill his spark for you, apologize for being too rough on you at times and asking for a chance to change that.

He’s actually a very good kisser, you could smooch him all day. But NEVER in front of the others. PDA is a nono, especially when you get him flustered which you tend to because he cannot absorb so much beauty at once.

Four walls and a locked door is the best for him. He can admire you properly and have his way with you. He might seem vanilla but he can get kinky.

He’s a control freak in bed too. Considering his age, his pace isn’t the best. He’d always complain about his hips and back but his strength is definitely something to cherish. He’s actually quite experienced so he doesn’t need a quick pace to give pleasure to both of you.

He’s girthy and it’s definitely something he’s proud of. He can get quite cocky and throw a couple of dirty talks. He can get very loud too, likes when you’re loud as well so he can shush you for fun.

He kinda has a breeding kink too (perhaps even doctor & nurse/assistant or patient kink), loves filling you up and seeing your tummy bulge, not letting it leak out.

He isn’t an exhibitionist but he’d love to do it on the control panel with you or in the med bay. As time would pass and as he’d remember how good IT feels, he’d want to do it anywhere and at any time, whenever you’d tickle his wild side with a provocative comment or a provocative look.

One thing that’s hilarious is that he can almost immediately fall asleep after nutting (excuse my language). He tries his best not to but he’s an old tired doc after all, you can’t be mad at him.

He’d pray it lasts because deep down he knows he got too attached. Even when you two would argue, when he’d yell at you for a stupid thing for example, later he’d do anything to make it up to you.

He loves you very dearly.

🍓

BULKHEAD

GENTLE GIANT!!!

He would confess to someone by secretly researching customs about Earth and he would be nervous at first.

You two would bond with some common interests he did research on previously. He’d buy you gifts and take you anywhere you want but at the same time he’d worry about your safety.

He gets flustered very easily so you’d get the memo that he likes you from the start.

It would take him a long time to confess which would result in him being a pure blushing mess. The moment you’d kiss him he’d probably almost faint.

He’s ok with PDA, he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. When he’s with you he’s in another dimension.

He’s a big snuggly wuggly teddy bear. Cuddling has become one of his fav things in the world because of you.

He would also need a lot of time to allow himself to get intimate with you hence he’s so huge. He’s scared he could hurt you.

Hence he needs a lot of words of affirmation, communication is key with him.

He’s a soft dom but can also be a switch if that’s what pleases you. He likes when you tug at his chin. He also loves when his digits are tangled in your hair, it’s his favorite part of your body.

He isn’t really a kinky type or at least his fear of bringing you any harm is suppressing anything that can come out onto the surface. That’s why he might be an experimentalist.

He would not stop until you’re fully pleased. You need to talk to him a lot during sex if you want him to be maximally confident with you.

He’s probably the best at aftercare. Would wrap you up in a blanket and bring you food or anything you ask for really.

He only prefers long term relationships and he’d hope you’re his precious little human forever.

I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT!!! :’((

🍓

BUMBLEBEE

Precious Bee is so clingy that it’s SO obvious that he’s into you.

He wouldn’t leave your side almost. He’d be all happy and bubbly and win you with his optimism.

Don’t let that bubbliness full you though, he’s a hot head and would do anything to protect you. He’s protective in the right amount though.

He’d always snuggle into your hair and press his muzzle against your cheek, as if he’s kissing you. He’d ask you to kiss him back by tapping his cheek and muzzle.

When you’d kiss his muzzle it would be over for him. You’d officially become his partner. He’d probably find a tiny gear to put on your wedding finger.

Totally into PDA! Especially when it annoys Smokescreen and makes him jealous.

Cuddles and any kind physical touch are his absolute FAV. He’s so spoiled when it comes to nuzzling which he does all the time (is obsessed with your softness).

He’s actually very quick to get intimate. You could say his sex drive is high due to his youth.

He’d take it nicely and passionately, especially with his servos. He has a specific kink with digit play. Loves touching you absolutely everywhere and almost every time he overstimulates your private parts with them before he actually penetrates you with his spike.

His stamina is crazy and he always takes advantage of it. His pace is very quick all the time but if you ask him to be slow he will. Your pleasure is also very important to him.

He has a thing for beauty marks, he’d kiss every single one of them every time. You’re the only one he puts his muzzle down for. But not gonna lie he loves when you tug on it.

Perhaps he’d be into leashes and chokers and stuff if you really asked him.

He’s a very soft lover after all so expect epic wholesome aftercare.

Considering he’s a hot head there might be some minor arguments with him but that won’t stop you from having a long term relationship.

🍓

WHEELJACK

JACKIEEEE! (2ND FAV!!!!!!)

He’d flirt the hell out of you. He’d flirt and flirt and flirt, make you blush and get flustered all over again until he makes you fall for him. He’d tease you with calling you “sunshine” or “kid” or “doll” or “baby girl”.

He’s a player, likes it casual but when he knows you’re the one, he doesn’t give up. He’s extremely stubborn.

You’re probably the only reason he’d stay in the base.

He’d take you out and if he notices you’re a romantic soul, he’d be the most romantic man out there even though, in reality, he isn’t romantic at all.

Doesn’t mind PDA, loves showing off how he’s the best boyfriend in the world (or at least he thinks so lmao).

You know he’s a HUGE hot head. Would kill for you.

The moment of confession would probably be the night you get intimate. We could say the best way he can express his love for you is through sex so expect some extreme overstimulation.

He’s into lingerie, especially black and red. Loves making you stain your panties good too.

He INVENTED dirty talking. Also very into oral, eating you out like the tastiest snack. He also loves eye contact, he’d make you look at him or else he’d stop.

He can combine all sorts of paces and positions and roughness, he has his own magic tactics. He loves making you scream while he’s praising you. Doesn’t matter if the base is full or not, he’s a risk taker and it really turns him on.

Sometimes he’d even grab you with one servo and slide you up and down his spike like a pocket pussy. Backshots and reverse cowgirl must be his fav positions.

One his fav places to cum is onto your face, definitely. Or into your mouth. He likes it gushy and messy. His stamina is crazy too.

Would shower you with kisses and praising afterwards, make sure you’re alright.

As I said, he’s into casual stuff but you’re probably the only one who would make him take relationships seriously and enjoy the long term.

🍓

SMOKESCREEN

He’d be so cringe at first. He’s an act first then think after type of mech.

He would flirt SO MUCH with you to the point he’d start annoying you.

He’d notice though. He may seem confident but in truth he’s nervous underneath all that cockiness. He tends to overthink.

He’d ask others for advice, research, anything that could make you his.

At first he would view you as just another one of his dolls he plays with but when he’d realize he actually has serious feelings for you, he’d get serious.

The confession would be spontaneous as he’d probably make out with you like the horny teenager he is. He’d promise to be loyal though and he’d keep that promise.

He’s into PDA, loves showing off how you’re his.

He has a weird kink in making you jealous and vice versa. You’d play a flirting game with anyone you know just to get each other jealous which would result in “who’s gonna give up first and frag the other”.

Loves giving you pet names but also loves when you give him pet names too and refer to him as “baby boy” hence he’s a switch. Also into exhibitionism.

Has a thing for breasts and thighs. He can whimper at times too and when you’d bring it up later he’d deny it and be like “WHAT!? NU-UH!”

Loves when you ride him or his face but is also into backshots even though he prefers when you face him. Perhaps he has a tiny sex tape kink too.

Surprisingly he’d make you cum every time which he would brag about later. His cockiness is always present nonetheless.

As I said, even though he can be an immature horny teenage boy, he can get serious when you put him in his place.

🍓

ULTRA MAGNUS

UH OH 💀💀💀

If you choose to fall in love with this man expect to be heart broken twelve times until you get together (if that’s even possible).

Kidding, it’s possible. But still very difficult. Prepare for a long one, he’s a very complicated mech 💀.

He would not even notice you. At first he’d just call you a native or a soldier but once he starts calling you by your actual name that would be the signal that he views you as someone who he has a positive opinion on.

You’d have to be REALLY pushy on him, be as clingy as possible, annoy the hell out of him so he’d actually set his guard down.

You’d develop your relationship with him scolding you like a parent, telling you what to do and what not to do while you’d disobey him. Sometimes you’d even bring a TIIINY smirk on his face because you’re just too cute, he can’t be mad at you forever.

With that, he’d get overprotective and follow you around all the time, not letting you out of his sight.

Would always correct you that you should refer to him as “sir” or “lieutenant” or even “commander”. He loves it when you do it in bed especially, it REALLY gets him going. Also has a brat taming kink.

This would go on for a loooong time until you actually conjux. He’s definitely a type of mech to keep you in handcuffs in a relationship.

PDA? What’s that? Sometimes it would seem he’s keeping you a secret.

When it comes to intimacy you’d probably think this mech’s sex drive is ZERO. But oh. He’d grope you and touch you everywhere, ex vent into your ear, giving you a sign at the most unexpected time that he wants you then and there.

He has a LOT of pent up stress so you’d be his stress outlet. His foreplay is a bit dry to be honest but he’d learn his way with you.

Even though his roughness can result in not caring about your pleasure at all, he’d still make your eyes roll in the back of your head.

Soon he’d realize how good you actually make him feel as he’d lean and kiss you (your lips, torso or back/neck, depends on the position which don’t matter to him as long as he’s on top).

Would definitely mark you all over with his servos because he tends to grope HARD. He also loves seeing the outline of his spike on your stomach as he couldn’t help but press onto it and feel it move in and out of you.

His aftercare is very poor too. At first you’d get intimate as if it’s a one night stand. He’d leave almost immediately or the next morning without even saying anything.

He’d isolate himself as first, making you feel as if he’s using you as a toy but in the end everything would come together and he’d give himself to you.

He’d still keep his formality at times. Getting intimate with him would probably be the only time he’d express his emotions as much as possible even though it really isn’t much.

This could go on either forever or fall apart after some time… Depends on you.

Dividers belong to @baexywth and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more 🍓

@k----a27s helped me with Bulk, Bee and Smokey! ❤️

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #transformers x reader #autobots #transformers fanfiction #optimus prime #ratchet #bulkhead #bumblebee #wheeljack #tfp smokescreen #ultra magnus #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus x reader #tfp ratchet #tfp ratchet x reader #tfp bulkhead #tfp bulkhead x reader #tfp bumblebee #tfp bumblebee x reader #tfp wheeljack #tfp wheeljack x reader #tfp smokescreen x reader #tfp ultra magnus #tfp ultra magnus x reader #optimus x reader #ratchet x reader #bumblebee x reader #tf headcanons

[chryblossomjjk]

the weekend | jjk (teaser)

→pairing: dilf!jk x babysitter reader

→rating/genre: m/18+ | fwb?, angst, full fic will include smut

→word count: 618

→warnings: suggestive (as in building up to smut), some dirty talk, hair pulling, neck smoochies, lil lingerie moment, slightly dangerous moment in a car?, implied infidelity, smol appearance from bby yul (holds up ‘aww’ cue card)

→summary: Every weekend, you give Jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing Monday through Friday.

→notes: um long time no see i haven't posted any writing in a while so im v excited and nervy atm! had this teaser planned for a hot minute so yeah v excited to see your reactions! i don't have a set date when this will come out but hopefully soon. as for now, you can check out my masterlist if u wanna wink wink. also this fic will be v angsty so pls if thats not ur thing, skip this. ok love u bye !! feedback is appreciated v much uwu. also this is not beta’d obvi so if there’s any typos or goofiness rip im sorry :’(

“Well, there’s still time.” You point to the clock on his touchscreen stereo; 11:12 p.m. You throw your hair over your shoulder before slowly undoing the top two buttons of your shirt, revealing the skimpy black lingerie set you bought just for tonight. Just for him. “We can celebrate…”

“Yeah?” His cheek bubbles, teasing tongue poking at the inside of his mouth, eyebrow jumping at your suggestion. “How so?”

You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. Hastily, you unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over the center console. It’s reckless, but so was being with a man like Jungkook. You’re incapable of rational thought when you finally get to have him the way you want. One night of him isn’t enough. What kind of tease is that? You need at least six more to be satisfied.

“__,” he warns, arching his head away from your sneaky lips.  “Put your seatbelt on. Wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Where’s the fun in that, though?” You pout, cupping his cheek and batting your eyelashes innocently. Jungkook doesn’t take the bait, giving the desolate road ahead his unwavering attention. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, you can tell you’re getting to him. Below you, his slacks tighten around his thick, tensed thighs. He’s playing right into your hands. Needily, you tongue the little silver hoops dangling from his ear. 

“If I have to pull over, you’re in trouble.”

“Maybe I-”

A hushed ‘fuck’ cuts you off as the car comes to a screeching halt. Jungkook slams on the brakes, coming too close to the slower vehicle in front of you for comfort. Luckily, his dad reflexes kick in, strong hand gripping your waist tightly, preventing you from barreling forward. You brace yourself by clutching his shoulders, and when the adrenaline rush fades, you finally look at him. His nostrils are flared and his jaw is clenched painfully tight.

He’s pissed. 

You know you should apologize, or be shaken up at the very least, but the blinking of his turn signal as he pulls to the side of the dark highway has your mouth watering. This is just what you wanted. 

Jungkook sighs in frustration, tilting his head back against the headrest. The movement is counterintuitive, exposing the inked canvas of his neck that you’re desperate to paint red and purple. You go in for a bite.

A hand fists your tangled hair, pulling you off with a harsh yank before you have the chance to sink your teeth into his skin. The silver ring on his finger digs into your scalp like a knife. “Do not fucking mark me.”

The feeling of the frigid metal is agonizing. Not physically, his grip loosens immediately after the initial tug, but emotionally. You know why he doesn’t want you to mark him. Any evidence of you, other than your weekly babysitting duties, would unravel his entire life. Jungkook is an intelligent man. You don’t have to tell him that it’s all a facade, and everything’s already been undone. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out frail and shaky. “I just want you.”

And like some cruel joke, his phone rings. 

The contact image would normally make you swoon. It’s a picture of him and his daughter from her first birthday party; her sticky, strawberry ice cream covered, hands holding his cheeks as he stares at her with scrunched eyes and a big smile. You think that picture is the only time you’ve ever seen him genuinely happy.

The bold, white font at the top of the screen, though, makes you sick to your stomach. 

‘Wife.’

Jungkook releases your hair and places a finger over his mouth, signaling for you to shut up, before answering. 

“Yes, Seulgi?”

© chryblossomjjk 2023 [do not copy, translate or repost]

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #btshoneyhive #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook series #jungkook scenario #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook scenarios #Bangtan #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #bts Imagine #bts angst #jungkook Imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook angst

[ideas-live-forever]

Different Dates With Ken!

This is my first time writing in a while, so forgive me if I’m rusty! Been obsessed with the Barbie movie, so here’s some Stereotypical Ken x Reader headcanonssss

please feel free to send ken prompts/asks i am so bored!!

(also, i wrote this in like an hour so there’s probably some typos and ken is probably ooc or something i’m sorry 😭)

You and Ken had been dating for a month now, the two of you in the human world

dinner dates

He doesn’t really have a concept of indoor voices, so he kind of talks at a normal volume.

which would be fine, except you’re in a formal restaurant where everyone is basically whispering.

If you gently point it out, though, he’ll go extra quiet and only talk in a whisper for the rest of the dinner.

He’s just paranoid that he’s embarrassing you or something.

When the bill comes, he definitely tries to pay it (assuming he has money).

If you get to the bill first, he gets really pouty, though he’ll forget he was ever upset if you give him a kiss.

“Y/nnnn, let me pay. It’s the least I can do," Ken begs, pulling out the puppy-dog eyes.

"No," you respond. "You try to pay for everything. Let me treat you once in a while."

It takes a great deal of self-control, but you can't stay away from his eyes long enough to pay for dinner. After you hand the check back to the waiter, you glance back at a now-sulking Ken. He looks almost sad.

With an affectionate eye roll and a smile, you lean across the table and press a small kiss onto his lips. Immediately, he melts into it. And when you pull back, he’s all smiles before he remembers that he’s supposed to be mad at you.

If he gets to it first, he pays, and he smiles at you triumphantly, clearly proud of himself.

After dinner, he insists on walking you home because he doesn’t own a car.

At your door, he thanks you for taking him out and kind of stands there awkwardly.

You have to lean in and initiate the goodbye kiss, but he more than enjoys it.

Study dates/coffee shop dates

Ken didn’t go to college, or school at all, really, so he didn’t quite understand the concept of the date you were currently bringing him to.

However, he sat patiently in the coffee shop while you got your stuff together and opened your laptop, just smiling at you like an idiot.

He takes the time to admire you in your element.

When you ask him what coffee he wants so you can get it for him, he cocks his head in confusion.

"There are, like, different kinds?" he asks innocently, glancing between you and the sigh with different options he had previously failed to notice.

You have to stifle a giggle at his reaction.

"Yeah, there’s a bunch. Come on, I'll recommend you some."

Ken tried a latte.

He didn’t like it.

However, he sipped on it periodically, mirroring your actions as you looked through your work.

He had brought some books on Horses to look over while you were doing your thing, but he couldn’t really focus on reading while you were right there.

He placed some random sticky notes on the pages absentmindedly as he watched you with wonder in his blue eyes.

If you get frustrated at all, He’s quick to ask what’s bothering you and decides that he’s going to help you study. Whether that involved holding your extra papers or helping you with flashcards,

When you wrap up, you notice how little of his latte he has drank.

When you ask about it, he quickly downs the whole thing, plastering a fake smile on top of his look of disgust.

movie dates

This one was Ken's idea.

There's a movie theater in Barbieland, so he knew the basic premise of a movie date.

Although it took a while for him to figure out how to buy the tickets because in Barbieland they were free,

She definitely picked The Little Mermaid.

It seemed like a safe option to him, considering that everything else was either sad-looking or a horror movie, and he can’t really handle either of those.

The plan was to meet at the theater, so he waited outside for you to get there.

When you did, you two went inside and ordered a large popcorn, but Ken let out a little gasp of excitement at the other snacks on sale.

He ends up buying a pretzel, a bag of chips, and a bag of cookies.

All of which he insists on sharing with you.

When you finally go into the theater, he gets a confused look on his face.

He’s never seen movie ads before, so he assumes they're part of the movie.

"I thought this was about a mermaid."

After explaining it to him, he nods vigorously and blushes a bit in embarrassment.

When the movie finally starts, he smiles really big and turns to look at you.

Ken gets HEAVILY invested in the movie.

He definitely cries during Part of Your World, and he’s horrible at hiding it. That results in him clinging to your arm and the people next to him giving him weird looks.

When it’s over, he has a look of faraway wonder in his eyes.

As you two walk out of the theater, he can’t stop gushing about how cute Ariel and Eric were. And how he wanted to watch the original animated movie. And how you two should have matched Little Mermaid Halloween Costumes

Before you leave to go home, Ken gives you a bone-crushing hug and a thank you for spending your afternoon with him.

Which leads you to kiss him.

Which makes him unable to stop blushing as you say your goodbyes for the night.

#barbie movie #ken x reader #ken x you #ken x y/n #ken headcanon #ken blurbs #stereotypical ken x reader #ryan gosling ken x reader #ken fluff #ken imagine

[manicrouge]

Inundate

[𝙰𝚄: 𝙶𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍!𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚁𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝚂𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚗!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛] || 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 05/01/24

[𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝]: Sorry is the siren whose selfishness results in carnage.

[𝙲𝚠]: gore, murder, blood, body horror, angst, character deaths (both major and minor), hurt/comfort, smut, possessive!simon, inexperienced!reader, creampie, hurt and NO COMFORT, mention of the loss of a parent.

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 18,536

[𝙰/𝙽]: Since so many people liked the first part (ty for ur support btw i am blown away by all the love ive been getting... it's enough to make a grown woman cry) HERE'S PART TWO!!! I hope it's just as entertaining as the first part and a good continuation to the story, although if you dislike it, just pretend this part never happened. Also this took so long because between writing this I have been watching the cat in the hat (best movie of all time btw).

I had a lot of fun writing this and can't wait for more alt aus !! I think the next think i have planned has something to do with everyones favourite ghost so... keep an eye out for that :3

(Pls ignore any typos I am very tired and really wanted to get this done so if I have made any I do apologise)

Comments are always appreciated !!

If you haven't already read it, I advise you read 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝙾𝚗𝚎 !!

Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!

There is something in the water.

There's something looking at him. He can sense it, he can feel it, and the feeling of whatever it is makes his blood run cold. Words have been leaving his mouth as he stands upon the ship, his eyes blood red at the very belief that something is there.

Leaning over, he watches as the ship caves into the waves, the village in the distance growing further and further away, the sound of songs and cheers emitting from the belly of the vessel.

Perhaps he's just a little sea sick, that's his excuse for the creeping sense of dread which is climbing up his spine the further he looks into the water, searching for the same set of black eyes that had stared at him that night while he obeyed the Captains orders.

Nausea rumbles his stomach, he feels the urge to grip the side of the ship and expel his guts for he cannot escape the image of that siren. It's as though, even though she is dead and gone (somewhere no one knows), she is still there with him, under his nails, infecting him with a sickly guilt that has caused his pores to ooze, the skin on his lips to crack, and his sleepless eyes to remain bloodshot.

He is rotting from the inside out.

Despite months having gone by, his hands are still slicked with the blood of the bleeding siren. He's scrubbed and scrubbed, and still, the dark red tinge under his nails persists. His hair is wild, flecks of grey sparkling in the daylight as he brings his hands together in an attempt to quell them as they continue to shake.

They're not alone anymore.

They haven't been for a while, yet, they have been none the wiser to it until the discovery of that... thing.

Granted, he's unsure as to whether or not he is grateful for knowing what is in the depths of the sea, or if he would have preferred it to stay a secret.

There is something following the ship, he knows there is something following the ship, whether beside it or under it- it doesn't matter.

He's heard the stories, read too many books in the library to count, and even since the murder of the siren, there has been a different air in the village just as there is at sea. Something is displeased, they are displeased, he knows they are.

'Roland, are you seriously looking for one of those things again?'

A hand is placed in his movement and he jolts, yelping at the sudden contact, his hands wrapping around the beam he has been using to look over the ship. There's a scoff from the man standing behind him as he scratches his beard, looking him up and down before his hands settle on hips hip.

'For fucks sake kid,' he exclaims, shaking his head, 'you're making yourself with the thought of the fuckin' things- have you looked in the mirror recently?'

He’s choking on his words, his tongue seemingly too big for his mouth as he gargles out an incoherent mess. Quite frankly, he would have been better throwing up overboard; at least then man would get a proper response from him. His cheeks are red as he concludes he should keep his mouth shut.

'You should have stayed on land,' he sharply states, 'this is our land, they don't have a fucking leg to stand on out here, right?' asks the man, wrapping his arm around his shoulder, holding his hand out as he points towards the sea with a bright smile on his face. 'One of theirs washed up on our shore, and they didn't stand a fuckin' chance against us.'

Observing the land, he swallows hard at the sight of a small mound of rocks sitting in the distance, tensing in the grip of the man standing beside him.

'She was on land,' he chokes out, resting his forearm against the edge of the ship, resting his head against his arms. The fluid motion of the water slightly rocking the boat side to side worsens his sickness as he sits and attempts to focus on his breathing. 'And she only died 'cause Price fucked up.'

'She only lived for as long as she did because that fuckwit was acting on the orders of the Lord,' says the man beside him, smacking his hand against his back, rendering the other breathless as he heaves for a gasp of air. 'Do I need to go to the Captain and get this boat turned around,' he lowly asks, 'because you're lookin' to be more of a fuckin' burden than anything else.'

Straightening his posture, he lets go of the edge of the shift, rubbing his face with his hands, shaking his head.

Rubbing his eyes, he winces at the dull pain as he does so, 'no, no, you don't... jus' haven't been sleeping recently, that's all,' he explains, 'been worrying about this trip but... I need the money; it's been rough recently.'

'Then get your fucking act together,' snaps the man, 'can't have some stupid mer-freaks scaring you, hey? They've probably left these waters, anyway,' he shrugs, 'they're like spiders; they fear us more than we fear them, and the only thing you've got to be fearful is Donny seeing you in this state, yeah?'

'Yeah,' he nods, noting that they're growing closer and closer to the mound of rocks. 'Need the money for this job.'

'Don't we all,' laughs the man, 'I'm gonna go get a drink, you gonna join me?'

As he looks at the an, he pictures the hot room beneath the deck with one too many bodies crammed into there, all for the sake of getting their hands on some rum. His stomach is burning as bile bubbles. There is nothing worse his mind can conceive at this moment, it's simply a death wish to accept his generous offer.

'No, I'm gonna stay up here; feel a bit sick,' he confesses, 'cause of the long break of voyages.'

Placing both of his hands on his bloated belly, Mike rolls his eyes, letting out a chuckle, 'I will say, strange how trade has been quiet for the past few months, isn't it? Got a village full of hungry people here and they're expecting us to sustain ourselves? That hardly seems culpable.’

'Somethin' to do with the Lords guards. They have more power than good, they do,' snarls Roland, 'think it's okay to demand for cuts of the ships in the water, and for what?'

'To keep you safe it seems,' laughs the man, 'can't have you vomiting into the ocean and angering the big fish, right? Have the village under water in the matter of seconds if you spilled your guts overboard.'

His laughter continues while he keeps his eyes glued on the small island of rocks. Holding his breath, he narrows them as the sun glares down at hm, burning his flesh. Sweat tricks from off of his forehead, chapped lips smacking together as he begins to smile.

'Bet it has something to do with the freak with the skull mask on.... Say, Mike, you ever seen his face before?' he asks with a furrowed brow.

Reflecting for a moment, he rests his hand against his hip, tapping his foot as he looks past Roland, staring into the sea as he contemplates. Resting either elbow on the edge of the ship, he lazily slouches awaiting the answer.

'No, can't say I have, hasn't left the house with that stupid fuckin' thing since he became one of the guards... you reckon it's real?' he asks with a laugh.

'Yeah fuckin' right,' Roland laughs, 'tied to the back of his head with pieces of silk, you really think someone like that has the fuckin' balls t’ kill someone and wear their skull as a souvenir?'

Both of them pause, sharing a look with one another.

Then Mike begins to laugh, Roland not too far behind as the pair of them howl.

His sickness abandons him as the pair of them laugh together. Tilting his back, he keeps his eyes screwed shut as he lifts a leg up, unable soothe the joyous ache in his gut.

'Yeah fuckin' right,' Mike says, wiping his eyes with his chubby fingers, 'he's doin' arts and crafts at...'

His laughter quells.

Even his sharp gasps for air dissipate.

Roland continues to laugh, only, after a few moments of silence, he clears his throat, his breath clawing at the inside of his throat.

He finds the hairs on his arms stand up, the wrinkles on his sickly face appearing as his peeling lips come together while lifting his head to look at Mike.

The elder man is pale, staring blankly past him into the sea.

'What?' Roland slowly asks, staring at the man, a smile tugging at his lips.

Unmoved by his comment, he turns his head to look in the direction where the man is looking.

Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, he holds his breath as his eyes scan over the area.

There's the depth of the sea, they have passed the rocks he's heard in many account from those who have survived the sirens.

There is nothing there but the sea and the sky.

'Got ya',' chuckles the man behind him, continuing to laugh in the same manner he was laughing in before, 'you really thought I was gonna say that there's a siren there, didn't you? Gotta get them off of your mind, son.'

‘I know,' Roland retorts, 'the skull faced freak really helped... like medicine he is, strange fellow, yet so good for the soul, eh?'

'Good for the soul, but not the wallet,' snorts the latter. 'Wouldn't even say he's medicine, you're givin' him too much credit by sayin' that.'

'Oh?' Roland says, 'then what do you suppose he is then?'

'A witches potion,' he answers.

'Even that seems too nice,' says the spotty man, 'a quacks remedy is more fitting I think.'

The pair of them begin to laugh again, the waves crashing either side of the boat, and with every second they grow further and further from the little pile of rocks, and he finds his aching muscles are soothed.

The bustling cheers of the sailor help to warm his heart and he begins to think that he can stomach some rum.

A drop wouldn't kill a man, that's for sure.

In fact, it'll probably work well to settle his stomach.

'I think I've had a change of heart on the invite,' he says with a smile, 'drop of rum never killed anyone, has it?' he continues on brightly as though he had not been moments away from emptying his guts all of the deck. 'Well, it hasn't yet, at least.'

'That's the spirit,' Mike grins, 'probably help you with that uneasy stomach of yours, know it helps with mine, at least,' he says so while patting his stomach, looking over his shoulder to towards the door beneath the top of the ship where the Captain stands.

The man doesn't even move to address Mike, keeping his eyes set right in front of him, his hat tilted slightly downwards to keep the sun out of his eyes.

Opening his mouth to respond, all air exudes from his lung as he feels an ice cold touch on his shoulder.

Slowly, he turns his head, looking down to the wet patch on his shirt. A short breath escapes him as he notes the webbed hand, nails as sharp as daggers digging through the fabric of his shirt.

'Gonna take more than a quacks remedy to fix your issues,' a soft voice whispers as the hand on his shoulder shifts, and with one fair slash, the skin on his throat is shred as he is pulled overboard.

A gargled scream escapes him.

Writhing against the strong hold, his eyes water as he gasps for air as his body is dragged under the current. Swallowing mouthfuls of blood and water, he chokes out babbled for them to come back, for them to stop as the ship charged through the seas.

Cruelly, the siren holding him keeps him above water as he chokes.

'Don't worry about them,' says the voice behind him, 'water's waitin' for them, a pretty song is too.'

With that, he cries out in agony as your nails are drove into his stomach, the flesh snapping as you drag your fingers through his stomach.

'You helped in her capture,' you seethe, 'you're lucky I haven't flooded the entire fucking town, but if I don't find the man who murdered her, you best believe that entire town is going to drown in the same water as you.'

'T- They'll...' he wretches out, the strength in his kicks calming as his eyes grow heavy, '...kill you,' he firmly states, gritting his teeth.

A loud laugh graces his ears as your grip on him loosens.

'Only if they can swim with a slit throat.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Blood washes off easily with water.

It's the nails it's difficult to remove it from, and he struggles with all his might as he stands at the edge of the shore, scraping his nails into the sand. It doesn't help at all, though, he still insists on doing so; it's the only time the stain of red is obscured.

The beach is bitter to him these days, and even though his mouth is protected from the elements as he keeps his balaclava over his mouth, he still feels a faint tingle on his mouth as he recalls the moment he spent here with you.

You're difficult to avoid, especially whenever he's passing the beach on patrol. Price has made a point to keep him away from it, placing him next to the Lords house during his patrols. He says it's to make it easier on him, so he's not as distracted while doing an important job.

When he's near the Lords house, his ears ring with the sound of your screaming and crying, and the blood under his nails grows darker.

There's a temptation whenever he's nearing the house; one cut to the throat and he would be dealt with.

As easy as that.

Truthfully, the old man has nothing to do with the issues going on within, but he's clamouring for someone to hate, for someone to blame. The old man made the orders, they could have just let her go, but they didn't.

And then you left with her.

In the morning after Serelia's burial, when he woke to an empty bed, his lungs turned to ice. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced, the feeling of utter despair as he found the pink dress he had bought for you gone along with yourself.

There was no residue of body heat on your side of the bed, he struggled to find anything to even prove you existed as he rushed around the house with wild eyes.

'Sweetheart?' he called, forcing the door to the bathroom open.

The light shined in from the window, though, there was nothing in there aside from the bloody frock he'd helped you remove the night before.

Picking it up off of the ground, he held it out in front of him looking at the drying blood in the fabric. He didn't know why he did it if anything, it only works to worsen his panic.

In the midst of public, eyes are everywhere... what if someone heard your confession to him? What if it was the same someone who hurt Serelia?

He dropped the dress promptly, his hand over his mouth as his face paled at the very thought of you being taken- of you meeting the same fate as the poor siren he'd buried. Only, in the memory, it was your face he was covering with the shabby old white sheet he found in the cabin, and it was your blood on that dress and not hers.

For the next few minutes, he spent them on his knees, gripping the edge of the toilet as he threw up what little he had in his stomach, ridding his body of the last moments he had spent with you.

After the remnants of the pastry he'd eaten before were in the toilet bowl, he suffered through a terrible burning in his throat as his face grew hot as he thought against all urges to throw up anymore. Yet, he failed, a mixture of stomach acid and spit landing in the bowl.

The smell was grotesque, yet, the taste of it was even worse.

His eyes were teary when he eventually forced himself off of the ground, rushing out of the room, quickly changing into his uniform, leaving the skull of his mask in his bedroom, tying the balaclava around his face before rushing out of the door.

People look at him with raised brows, finally able to see the top part of his face, yet, he doesn't care as he sprints through the village, his heart pounding against his chest, hoping that one of the women passing him is you.

The library is closed, you can't be there and he wants to scream as he holds the side of his head, his throat tightening up. How he longed to have the simple luxury of seeing you sat in the library again with a book on your lap. Though, as he peered through the glass of the small building, the space was simply a husk.

Heat climbed up his neck as he heaves out desperate breaths. His skin grew itchy and his blunt nails clawed at the flesh on his neck as he gulped hard attempting to chase after air, to find some form of peace to calm himself.

You left in silence, you left without a goodbye- surely you wouldn't have been so cruel to do so. You would have said something to him, left something for him to let you know that you were okay.

The missing dress is the only form of hope he had, though, the missing dress means nothing; someone could have taken that with you to make it look as though you left on your own accord and not someone else's.

The world is spinning as his breathing quickens, he can hardly make sense of anything around him and he finds himself growing more frustrated by the second. You could be anywhere, he hadn't let you out of his sight for more than a month, and the moment he sleeps with you beside him is the moment you disappear.

After the library, he checked the beach, yet it was clear, not a being in sight, nor a siren.

You were nowhere to be found.

The crashing waves and the grey sky swelled in his head rendering him speechless as he blinks back the tears, clenching his fists as he turned away from ocean, returning back to the village.

When he opened the door to the station, the first face he was greeted with was the both who Price had tasked with the mission of looking after Serelia.

The fool who was sloppy enough to leave her by herself.

'Mornin' Si', you want a tea?' Johnny asked, turning his attention away from Rhys standing beside him.

He doesn't care to respond to the man, instead, he grabbed the throat of the man beside him, slamming him against the wall with gritted teeth.

The man startled in his hold, letting out a loud gasp as Simon's fist around his neck tightens with the intent of only loosening when he felt the bone crunch in his fist.

'You fucking bastard!' he screamed.

Rhys doesn't dare move, weak wretches escaping him as he squirmed in his hold.

A hand grabs his shoulder, 'woah, woah, hey, Simon calm down!' Johnny exclaimed, 'you're gonna kill the fuckin' kid.'

'That' the whole point,' he snapped, 'you let that fuckin' siren die.'

'I- I didn't,' the man managed out.

'You left her alone and she was fucking murdered- this is your fault, Price put you up to it and you left her with no one there to protect her and she died.'

At that point, he could hear the blood in his veins, and had he not been forced off of him by Johnny and Price, he very well would have snapped the kids neck.

Rhys fell to the ground with a harsh gasp while Price stepped in front of him and Johnny kept hold his arms. When Simon stepped forward, Price placed his hand against his chest, shoving him backwards.

'Simon,' warned the man, 'bring it in, I've already got the death of that fucking siren on my case, I don't need another one to account for too.'

His eyes grew blurry as he looked at the man.

'What's wrong?' Johnny asked from behind him, 'whats happened?'

Everything folded in on itself, the cold morning, the absence of you and your dress, the bloody dress on the floor. Everything, every single thing he built with you collapsed, and he was unable to keep it all together as he ripped his arms from out of Johnny's hold.

Looking past Price, he pointed his finger in the direction of the brown-haired man on the floor, clenching his teeth, 'it's your fault she's fuckin' gone,' he seethes, 'all your fucking fault,' he mustered up before storming out the Station, blinking back tears as he returned home, knowing you weren't going to be there.

The beach is bitter now, but the memory is worse.

He doesn't know why he bothers to sit at the beach during the nighttime, perhaps it's in the hope that you'll reappear, or maybe the moon will send him a sign that you're safe somewhere her, and that the only part of you with Serelia is the skirt from the bloody frock he still has in his house.

It's peaceful at night, especially with the waves rolling in gently, and he imagines you're sitting on a rock somewhere, humming a sweet tune, causing trouble as you did so.

Anyone else would have been horrified with the confession, though, as he thinks about the damage that the people in the village have done to you, he wishes you'd flood the entire village and wipe it clean of all the scum in it.

At least then, even if he were to die in the flood, he'd die knowing that it was by your hand and no one else's.

And in his death, the man who he was held back from would also meet the same fate. That's all he's asking for.

Unsheathing the dagger in his belt, he drives it into the ground, dragging it through the grains of sand, taking his eyes from the sea to the deep line he's carved into the sand.

The throat of the Lord or Rhys would be better suited, though, he knows the fate awaiting him if he does something like that.

As he stares at the sand, the crunch of boots against the sand or the creak of a lantern behind him catching his attention though he doesn't turn his head; he knows the walking pattern well... he needs to get lighter on his feet if he's going to attempt to scare him.

'Thought I'd find ya 'ere, Lt,' says the man, walking beside him, not bothering to ask him if he can take a seat beside him. With a grunt, he lands on the ground, exhaling as he looks to the man sitting beside him. 'You've been comin' here since she left.'

'You spying on me?' Simon retorts.

'Seen you while on patrol, actually,' Johnny answers, 'difficult to miss, a big lump of coal you are,' he says with a chuckle, 'ya looked like you needed the company 'cause you've been keeping to yourself for months, and I know ye not typically a man of many words, but you've become a Ghost.'

He doesn't answer him, instead, he drivers his knife further into the sand.

'You gonna tell me what's actually going on, or are you gonna keep it a secret so no one can help you?' he asks, 'I've been thinking about the state of you the morning you nearly broke that kids neck, I've never seen you like that before.'

'You'll never see me like that again.'

'What did the death of that siren have to do with her leaving?'

His knuckles whiten around the knife.

'Kyle told us she was in a right state when Rhys got to the Station that morning. You forced him to keep everyone away from the cabin but the entire village heard her crying,' he explained, 'it was the talk of the town for days after.'

Looking at the man sitting beside him, he fights against the truth.

'The siren was what she was here for, wasn't she?' he asked.

Simon's breath gets caught in his throat.

'I've been goin' over it for weeks whenever I get a spare minute, the carry on out of her, her washing up on the shore out of the blue- not being able to remember the name of where her and her sister were goin' on that ship... none of that was true, was it?'

'No,' Simon answered, 'she told me when we found Serelia, we buried her and in the night she left... or someone took her,' he said.

'You think someone took her?'

'She was screamin' for the entire fuckin' village to hear, Johnny,' he snaps, letting go of the knife as he turns his attention back towards the ocean, 'anyone coulda heard her, including whoever killed Serelia. And I just keep goin' over it.'

He knows he'd never be able to forgive himself if such was confirmed, for what kind of protector would he be if he couldn't have stopped that monster from getting to you?

'What if she just... went back to the water?' he asks, 'that's where she belongs anyway, right? If she got a hold of the girl, she would have went back with her anyway.'

'She didn't say goodbye,' Simon utters.

'Maybe she didn't say goodbye because she knew you wouldn't be able to go,' he shrugs, 'if she woke you in the middle of the night and told you she had to go back home, would you have let her go?'

As he looks out onto the water, he contemplates his question, thinking back to the very night he lost you. He recalls the pair of you lying his bed, how you mumbled one last 'I love you' to him before leaving. Only, this time, you didn't leave without telling him. Instead, you look him dead in the eyes and tell him that you have to go.

Even debating the scenario in his head causes his heart to hurt.

'No...' he begins, his eyes narrowing as he keeps his eyes trained on the water.

It's difficult to see in the darkness, though, the light from the moon against the water highlights something bobbing closer and closer to the shore. Raising to his feet, Johnny looks up at him.

'You see that?' he asks, motioning over to the water.

The blob in the sea dips and raises with each wave rolling in, though with his mask and tired eyes, he's unsure if he's seeing something because it's there, or if his imagination is simply willing it to be sign he has been craving for the past couple of months.

'Aye,' he says, raising to his feet.

The pair stand idly staring at the bobbing blob.

'Whatever it is, it isn't alive,' says Johnny, watching as the man beside him shrugs off his cloak, untying the ribbon of his mask and pulling the balaclava off of his face, allowing it all to fall to the floor.

'Keep an eye on it for me, won't you?' Simon asks, looking over his shoulder, not bothering to wait for a response as he rushes into the water, heading directly towards the mysterious mass in the water.

Wading through the water, his pants grow heavier as his boots fill with water, though, he's uncaring as the water reaches his waist. The closer her gets to the body, the darker he finds the water grows.

'You know what it is yet?' calls the man on the shore.

Squinting, he reaches his hand out, placing his hand against the strange mass, pulling it over so he can see what it is.

Hollowed out eyes stare back at him, the sockets devoid of eye balls as he stares at the corpse a float in the water. It's intestines brush against his knee as though they have a life of their own.

The sight is brutal and in the darkness, he can't quite make out the feature of who the body is.

Grabbing the corpse under its armpits, he turns his head back to shore to see Johnny waiting with eager eyes to see what has been uncovered.

'It's a dead body!' Simon says with a grunt as he pulls the body through the water, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he drags it with him.

From behind him there's a slosh of water, the stammering breaths of the man appearing right beside him as he gawks at the corpse. He doesn't say anything, quite reserved for a man who is looking death in the eyes. Instead, he grabs its arm, helping Simon pull it to shore.

The heels of the corpse dig into the sand as he's pulled back to shore, the pair of them dropping him with a huff. Their clothes drip against the land as Johnny grabs the lantern he left beside Simon's masks and cloak, holding it over the body so the pair of them can grasp what it is they're dealing with.

The torso of the corpse is naked, the flesh of its stomach looking as though some sort of wild animal had gotten its hands on him. Only, its the intent of the cuts that tells him otherwise, his throat hangs open, exposing the top of his spine and vocal cords, loose flaps of skin blowing in the wind as the corpse leaks sea water and blood onto the sand.

As Simon moves his eyes up, he lets out a brittle exhale.

'This is one of the fellas who left on the ship today,' Johnny comments, looking to Simon who simply keeps his eyes glued to the chest of the man. 'Roland...' his words trail as he rips his eyes from off of the corpses face, all to see the very thing that Simon is staring at.

Johnny gulps.

'Your girl capable of doing that?' he says with a raised eyebrow.

In the bloody mess of the man, he finds exactly what he has been hoping to fine since he woke up that morning to find you were gone.

Of course, it could have been a shark attack- something other than the work of your hand, only, the confirmation of life is etched into the body as though it's a stone tablet or a tombstone.

Carved into the chest of the dead man is the word 'murderer'.

Simon smiles at the sight of the corpse, looking out onto the water.

'That's her,' he breathes, looking towards the moon, 'she's alive.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The thing is, with humans at least, they're fragile when it comes to pain.

When something seems out of the ordinary, they're inclined to shit themselves and become a crying blubbering mess, begging for mercy as though it is them who are innocent when they acted with the intent of taking another's life.

Even the strongest man cowers when they're forced to encounter something unknown, and you rejoice as you blood at the bloody man on his knees before you.

The curse of the moon never truly left you, still tied to the humans upon leaving the water, and while you have a prolific distaste for you can no longer join the sirens upon the rocks, it works well when the ship is driven into rocks and one of the men manage to scramble to the shore.

He thinks he's safe until you walk from out of the water.

The tides turn and the small smirk on his face disappears as he realises you do indeed have legs and can walk right up to him. Either way, he's a fool to possess such smugness, a song from the water would have drove him right back to you anyway.

'P- Please, please, please, I- I'm sorry, what do you want? I'll give you whatever you want, you want money?' he chokes out, holding his hands out in front of him.

The blood of his friend you plucked from off of the ship mingles with the sea water as he trembles in the cool breeze.

Some dry patches even stick to him, a clump of congealed blood sticking to one of his eyebrows. Trebling hands dig into his pockets as he holds out a handful of golden coins.

You think of Simon briefly, smiling to yourself as you recall the soup you attempted to made with the golden coins he had given you. How you basked in the light of his home eating the slop in the bowl, but none of that mattered because the pair of you had each other.

And then your mind falls to the dress he gifted you.

The dress you left on the bathroom floor, the dress you ripped to leave a piece of yourself with Serelia, the dress stained with her blood.

Raising your hand, you slap the money out of his hands, the coins landing with a hollow thud onto the sand of the a small cove. 'I don't want your money,' you snap, grabbing his shirt, pulling him to you with gritted teeth. 'I want you to answer my question, and if you dance around it, I'll cut you from gut to gullet and let the sharks eat the rest of you body.'

'Of course, o- of course, anything, I'll tell you anything you want to know,' shudders the man, tears flowing freely down his wrinkled face.

Edging closer to him, your face is right in front of his, you can smell the booze on his breath as he sniffles, looking at you doe eyes.

'Who killed the siren you captured?'

He looks at you, opening his mouth as he stumbles and trips over the words leaving his mouth. All attempts to form words are lost to the panic he works himself into as he attempts to think of an answer which will satisfy you, yet keep whoever is guilty safe.

Your grip grows tighter on his hair.

'I- I don't know, I don't know, I'm sorry,' he sobs, 'please- please—'

Shoving him back onto the ground, you turn away from him, clenching your fists.

'Bull-fucking-shit.'

His sobs simmer as you look back to the water, taking a moment to contemplate his response. And, you find that you don't like what he has to say, in fact, you fucking despise it because you know for a fact he is full of shit.

Turning sharply on your heel, you look at the man, taking a breath before bringing your hand across his face. He falls with a huff, his face pressing against the sand as he lets out another pitiful cry.

'Wrong answer, try again,' you demand, leaning over, grabbing a fistful of his greasy hair, pulling his head up. Your breath ghosts his ear as you speak through clenched teeth, 'who killed the siren?'

'I- I heard whispers around the village!' he blurts, 'they said that whoever it was was smart and no one suspects them of it... b- but I know it wasn't the man you murdered.'

You let go of his hair.

The only people who knew where Serelia was were the Guards of the village and you know Simon would never have done something so brutal. Price cares too much about his duty to do something so horrible, even though to him, you're sure her death was much more of an inconvenience then it was a heartbreak.

Your mind aches as you go down to Johnny and Gaz. Why would they do something so cruel? As much as you despise their kind, you struggle to see why they would bring harm to her. It wouldn't make sense- even Gaz told you he would have freed her if their hands were

And then your heart stops.

Confirmation is the one thing you have longed for since returning to the sea, the one thing your sisters have wanted for the longest time. You looks at you with wide eyes, stammering out whispers as you release your hold on him.

The entire time you thought she was safe, she was in the hands of her murderer.

Your self indulgence and brief romance cost her her life.

Placing your hand against your forehead, you pace back and forwards in front of the man.

'The boy who Price hired to make sure she was safe,' you mumble to yourself, wiping your face with your hand. How could you have been so blind? Word never got out about her being anywhere, he never went home that night... he disappeared and Gaz couldn't find him that morning.

He was getting rid of the evidence of his crime and he succeeded.

Walking down the sand, you ignore the calls of the man as you return to the water. There's nothing around, no land, no safety, simply just a small cove a lot of soldiers don't account for until it is, fortunately, too late.

'Hey! Hey! You can't leave me here!' screams the man as you walk further into the water. 'I'm going to die out here! There's nothing around here, please, I told you what you wanted, how some mercy.'

Stopping in your tracks, you exhale, peering over your shoulder.

'This is mercy,' you briefly answer before walking into the water, disappearing out of his view for good.

Even under the water his screams travel though you don't care to show any form of kindness as you move away.

He deserves his death for his attempted lie, and you also find anger bubbling for you know what you have to do because of his confession- something you have been escaping for a while.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

They work well on the side of the law, they stick to it as much as they can, though, when the pair of them shared a look while on the beach, they both knew what they had to do.

The breeze is gentle as the move the body further up the beach, occasionally turning their heads to look upwards in the direction for any sign of life as they do so.

Roland's intestines drag along the shore, his body leaking blood and water, leaving a gruesome trail behind the pair of them. Fortunately, the water will wash any trace of gore away and it will be as though he never existed in the first place.

'Why has she decided to pop up now?'

'First ship at sea for months,' he states, 'I'm surprised she hasn't tried to drag the entire village underwater with how torn she was.'

'What did you do with the girls body?' he asked, 'had Price choked up as he tried to explain to the Lord where the body disappeared off to, as far as he's concerned, there's no such thing as sirens cause he hasn't seen it with his own eyes.'

The old Lord is stubborn in his ways, that the pair of them know well enough not to bother questioning his reasonings. Upon his return, Simon recalls the look of upset when Price had to inform the man that they, as the guards of the village, failed at their duties. The body of the siren was nowhere to be seen, and he had to stand and watch as the Captain was subject to a brutal scolding, knowing well where the sirens body had disappeared off to.

It was unfair of him to do that, risking John's position all to keep the burial ground sacred and untouched, but he was still bruised and bleeding from the events that had taken place that night and the morning following.

All he can think about while standing in the room was the look on your face, how your bottom lip wobbled as you laid the fabric of your cherished dress upon the deceased girl, not bothering to consider your love for the item on your body, rather, the love you had for the woman lying in the ground.

Nothing was worth destroying that moment. Nothing.

'Buried it,' Simon answers, 'she's buried at the top of the cliff, just past the Lords house,' he says, setting the man down on the ground as they edge closer and closer to a small cove beneath the cliff, looking up at it.

'Lookin' over her home, ey?' Johnny asks with a small smile, 'her idea, I'm guessing.'

'It was mine, actually.'

'Didn't know y' were the sentimental type, Lt,' he comments with a smile, 'didn't know y' even had a heart.'

'I do,' Simon retorts.

'Really?'

'Yeah... a cold one.'

He doesn't miss the way the latter rolls his eyes.

'Wouldn't be sayin' that if she was here with you right now though, would ya?' he laughs, taking a breath before the pair of them continue to move the body. 'No, I can imagine y' now, all loved up. Thought of it makes me sick.'

Simon fights off the urge to scoff.

'Just say y' jealous, Johnny.'

'Oh, I am so jealous. I wish I had you to fall asleep to every night,' he whispers, his eyes moving from Simon to the body in their arms, 'cause, if that were the case, we'd be in bed right now, not carryin' a dead body, which your siren girlfriend mutilated, to hide it in a fuckin' cave,' he huffs, the darkness of the small cove swallowing the pair as they walked into it.

'These are typical activities for couples. We'd still be doin' it.'

Johnny doesn't bother to respond as the pair of them move further and further into the beast belly. 'Y' sure no kids gonna stumble across this corpse; he's gonna start to smell.'

'Tides rolling in tomorrow morning, not goin' back out until night,' Simon says, 'he'll be dragged back out to sea before anyone else gets to him.'

'Well, I hope y' right; if not, your girlfriends gonna be in a lot of trouble when the people in the village find out about this,' he says, finally relieving himself of the duty when he feels Simons hands slipping off of the body.

It lands in the wet sand of the cove with a wet splat, and the pair of them stare through the darkness, Johnny lifting his foot to find where exactly they placed the body.

'You think she's gonna come back?'

'Didn't dig her nails into him to for fun, Lt,' he answers, 'I reckon she'll show her face soon.'

Whether it is a few days, or even weeks, he doesn't care.

'I hope so.'

As long as you find your way back to him, the knowledge of you living is enough to soothe his weary eyes.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

The sisters of a siren are fierce and loyal, even when your tongue burns as you speak to them of the events which had happened during your time on land.

You suffered similar hardships to Serelia, at least, they're convinced you did.

So, as you address the group with blown eyes drawn to the surface, explaining your reasoning as to why you should tread the land, to go back into that village, you're hardly surprised when their looks change as they address you.

Motive is of importance and you wish to solve the case, to bring justice to the woman buried on the cliff edge.

But, selfishly, you're also wishing to bring justice to a man who you wronged.

'Return to land?' a voice barks, 'you will do no such thing; the last time one of us went on Land, her life was taken from her cruelly, I'm not allowing that to happen to you, not at all,' she continues.

You stare at her, looking around at the other disapproving faces which surround you. There's still a void where she would have sat and you feel your lips pulling down into a frown as you stare blankly at the space beside the woman who holds her pointer finger up at you.

'It's irresponsible, you'll get yourself killed if you do that.'

'I finally have confirmation of which human killed Serelia, Raithe,' you respond, rubbing your face as you turn your eyes from the empty space to the angered siren. 'I can kill him, I will kill him, but I need to be on land in order to do so.'

There's a brief silence between yourself and the ground and you feel your chest tightening as you observe all their faces. While stoic, you feel as though the sea is pressing all its weight down onto you in an unlawful attempt to drown you.

Though, in the eyes of unhappiness, you find that you would be thankful if the sea had such a mercy on you.

'I don't understand why we never lead the entire village into the sea,' another siren says, batting her blonde eyelashes as she looks at you, 'would've have gotten this over in a second. We kept our silence up in the first place because they never got as far as killing one of our own, but they captured her and held her as a prisoner- they held you as a prisoner too,' she continues, 'why are you showing them mercy? They deserve to drown for their crimes.'

You pale at the thought of committing such an act against the village.

'Because...' your words trail as you take a harsh breath, sinking further into the current, 'there are children in the village- that's not who we are.'

All of them raise their eyebrows in your direction and you feel small as they do so. Your shoulders touch the lobes of your ears as your entire body tenses.

'That not who you are, not anymore at least,' Raithe scoffs, narrowing her black eyes. 'You've gone soft.'

'No I haven't,' you refute, 'I- I just—'

'She's in love she is,' another speaks, pushing through the water, moving behind you to grab your shoulders. Pushing you closer to the group, her grip tightenings as she forces your neck to the side, the base of her nose ghosting your flesh as inhales your scent.

You freeze as she does so, the only saving thought being the fact that you haven't been held by Simon in months.

Her sharp nails press against the flesh on your stomach, her eyes narrowing as grabs your face, forcing you to look at her.

'Tainted, you are,' she says, 'look in her eyes, look how she moves, you're protecting the very humans that killed our sister,' she accuses, the looks on the others faces hardening in your direction.

'You don't want to go on land for revenge, you want to go and see whoever you were with during the time you were supposed to be searching for Serelia,' Raithe exclaims, 'you are just as much of a monster as those humans are, you wicked little witch!'

'No, no I'm not,' you quickly blurt.

'Then we flood the village; they're all guilty of murder because they helped take her in the first place,' answers the black-haired woman simply.

With beady eyes you look at her, and when a tight-lipped smile appears on her face, you feel the sudden urge to vomit.

You sense betrayal burning in their beings and have an overwhelming desperation to be away from them despite the ties of blood that keep you bound as sisters.

You're released from the hold of the siren behind you all for your face to be caught with the hand of Raithe. Keeping her webbed hand against your face, her grip tightens on you, nails digging into your cheeks as she grits her dagger-like teeth at you.

You squirm in an attempt to escape her hold, yet the only thing you achieve as you do such is forcing her nails deeper.

'You chose your side even before this meeting,' Raithe seethes, 'you chose it when you let Serelia die, you chose it when you lied to us because you are in love, Amalise is right,' she laughs, shaking her head. 'You love a human, how can you be so sure they wouldn't do what they did to you what their kind did to Serelia?'

'B- Because he isn't like that,' you cry, 'he isn't like that, he took care of me, he did everything he could to make me happy and he helped me bury Serelia.'

Your eyes grow wide as you realise the confession that accidentally slipped past your lips.

You don't miss the collective gasp, nor do you miss the feeling of Raithe's hold on you loosening, pulling away from you completely.

'You buried her?' Amalise asks, 'you buried her on land?' her tone raises as she clenches your fist.

'I couldn't have—'

You're struck with a razor sharp hand.

Her claws tear the flesh of your face as you're thrown through the current.

For a moment, you're much too dazed to realise what has happened until your grabbed by the throat.

'How fucking dare you!' Raithe screams, 'you lied to us a- and you buried her on land away from us so we cannot visit her? You are no siren, you are just as monstrous as those humans.'

Her fist tightens around your throat, specks of darkness appearing in your eyes as you attempt to pull her hand off of you. Your nails dig into her flesh, but she doesn't budge.

'You wish to be a human so bad, right? That's what you want, you're burdened by being one of us because if they knew, they would kill you because that's who they are.'

'N- No,' you choke out.

She edges closer to you.

'I don't believe you,' she utters, looking over her shoulder, 'I say she returns to the land, let her human have her,' she suggests, addressing the other sirens.

Much to your horror, they nod in agreement.

Raithe turns back to you, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her black eyes. 'You can be there to witness his death when we lead him to the sea,' she firmly says as you weakly writhe, blood pouring from the slash on your face, a tingling washing your entire body as your hands on her wrists falter and the world begins to grow dark.

'See if he still loves you with a ruined face.'

A final wretch escapes you before you're forced into darkness, leaving the world behind with the disapproving look of Raithe being the very last thing you see.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Patrol around the village these is quiet, and while he enjoys the silence most of the time, he can't help but hate the silence he's plagued with as he's walking around the dark streets.

No matter where he walks he can never escape the sound of the crashing waves. Typically, he enjoys the sound of the water, of the gulls squawking as he passes by the beach, only, ever since uncovering the body of that sailor, he's found the sound only takes him back to the leaking body parts and hollow eyes.

In his time he has seen a lot, yet, that truly takes the cake.

It's for a good cause, Simon knows the implications of the siren attacks and if word got out to the village folk, it will sure be difficult to fix. Their silence has been in their favour as he hardly hears mentions of Serelia in the village anymore, yet, he knows the fear is still there for a lot of people.

Like a criminal, while on patrol, he cannot help but return to the scene of the crime, watchful eyes looking over the shore in search for blots of blood.

It's difficult to know why he is doing so; as far as he's concerned, no one knows what the pair of them did, and truthfully, if someone does stumble across the body, he is fine.

No one suspects a guard, the protector of all.

Sea foam coats the bottom of his boots as he mindlessly wanders further down the beach, his tired eyes looking up towards the moon sitting in the sky. Despite the clouds blocking any stars from his view, the moon makes sure to make her presence known.

If he weren't so tired, maybe he'd acknowledge the red tinge marking her surface.

'Hey you,' a voice hisses.

He stops, snapping his head to look around, his forehead wrinkling as he spies a woman a few meters away from him sitting in the water.

Upon first glance, he straightens his posture, preparing to scold the woman for being so careless, walking out into the water alone in the dead of the night.

Then, the water around her shifts as she lifts her tail up from out of the wind, the moonlight catching the green tinge of her scales.

'Bloody hell,' he blurts out under his breath.

Before him lies a woman with thick, long black hair.

She kicks her tail up, resting her arms around the ground as she stares up at him with wide, black eyes, offering him the best smile she can muster. Her teeth are as sharp as knives and she trails her tongue over the points of them as she grins.

'Come closer,' she requests.

'Ye gonna kill me, lassie,' he responds, 'I know ave got a fun haircut, but am not that stupid.'

The woman scoffs.

'I'm asking you nicely,' she sharply states, 'walk away and you'll be right back in the water with the sound of a song, so I advise you do what I'm asking of you and come closer.'

She grows as cold as the wind as she stares at him, her brows furrowing as she looks in his direction.

Goosebumps form on his skin, and while his head is telling him to do anything else, he relents to her demands, slowly moving closer to her.

The water touches his boots as she sighs, pushing herself off of her stomach, rolling the water with a bright grin, lifting her head to look at the man with a giggle.

'Oh, you listen so well, who would have thought a human would be obedient,' she chuckles, allowing her webbed hands to fall above her head, merely missing the edge of his boots. 'I've got something for you,' she claims.

'A death sentence, perhaps?'

'There was a girl in this village a while back... few months ago now, looked as you did, with your legs and your gill-less necks, but she wasn't true to you, nor your people for she was a siren.'

His eyebrows raise upon her words, and she laughs harder.

'Oh so now I've got your interest now... I don't suppose you're the lover she had while she was on land, are you?'

'Nae.'

'Do you know of the man who she loved?'

'Aye, he's my friend,' he says with a nod, 'you know where she is?'

'I have her with me, some of my friends are keeping hold of her,' she explains, 'but... we've been having a talk, you see, and she no longer views the ocean as her home, nor does she view us as her sisters; she has been tainted by your kind.'

Her face contorts in a horrific manner as she pokes at the tips of his boots. Though, he doesn't move, knowing better than to sacrifice the happiness of Simon for the sake of his own safety.

The man needs this- he needs you back.

'I'm a woman of morality and I am not going to force her to stay where she doesn't want to be, and quite frankly, she is no longer one of our own- rather a traitor to her own kind,' she says, sitting up from off of the ground, looking out at the sea, 'so, you can have her, let her seek out the man who she loves.'

Everything she's saying seems too good to be true.

As he looks away from the woman, two more heads appear above the water, though they are that of shadows as they move forward. As the move closer and closer, the black-haired woman reaches out with greedy hands, and from out of the water, she plucks you, pulling you up the shore with a grunt.

In the moonlight, he catches the brutal gash on your face, how you tale shimmers in the moonlight before it melts into the sand, dissipating in a crude shimmer as you're pushed to him.

'What have y' done to her?' he asks, rushing towards your unconscious form, shrugging his jacket from off of his shoulders, using it to cover you.

'She isn't dead,' answers the black-haired woman, 'that would have been too kind,' she barks out a laugh, watching as Johnny takes you into his arms, staggering backwards from her. 'No need to fear us,' she gently coos, 'at least, not yet.'

He doesn't care to listen a second longer as he looks down to the deep wound across your face, rushing across the beach towards the steps which lead back into the village, the cackle of the siren booming.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Nighttime is quiet now.

Whenever he isn't working, he's only plagued with violent desires and ideas, tossing and turning on the sofa, curtains drawn so the moon cannot see him.

His feet hang off of the sofa, a dull ache in his spine as he lies in darkness, unable to sleep.

Tonight is particularly difficult as his heartbeat thumps against his chest and he finds himself tossing and turning at the very fact that, the night before, he got the confirmation he has been longing for for months.

You're alive.

Only, after a while of joy, he finds sadness lurks beneath the realisation as Johnny's point of you returning to the water very well may be true, meaning you left him willingly.

Your absence is cruel in that sense.

He's staring at his skull mask, slowly dozing off as the pounding sound of fists against his door tear him from his dazed state. They're eager, quick and desperate. If they knock any harder, they very well might knock the door down.

With a snarl on his face, he pulls back the thin sheet drawn over his body, marching up to the door. From beyond it, he hears pants for air, not missing a thick accent uttering, 'c'mon bonnie, you're fine, yeah?'

Immediately, he grabs the handle of the door, forcing it open with a hard pull.

The knocking stops as Johnny looks up at him with wild eyes, shoving past him with a body in his arms, rushing into the living room. For a moment, Simon keeps his eyes trained on the now empty spot where he was just standing, a short breath escaping him as he recalls the familiar colour of the hair.

Slowly, he closes the door, listening to the ragged breaths of the man, turning to him with his stomach in knots. He watches as you're placed down onto the couch, air escaping him as he notes the red stain in the mans white shirt as he turns his attention to him.

'It's her, Si',' he says.

Simon doesn't move.

'Some siren was sittin' on the beach, she gave her to me, said she'd betrayed her kind- that she's no better than us,' he explains, moving away from the sofa to the bookshelf, his hand patting along the wood in hopes of uncovering the box of matches he's spied a few times.

Moving over to the sofa, Simon reaches his hand out to you, resting it down on your shoulder. You're cold to the touch, the scent of sea water filling his nose as he hears the scrape of a match and the crackle of a wick.

An orange light is cast over your being as Johnny stands beside him with a candle in his hand.

From out of the darkness appears a crude claw-like mark on your cheek, blood dripping from the harsh gash down onto your bruised neck.

'What the fuck did they do to her?' he asks through gritted teeth, tearing at the fabric of his own shirt, kneeling down beside you, pressing the fabric against the cut on your face.

A noise escapes you when he does so, and he feels a heat bubbling in his stomach.

'You're okay, sweetheart,' he utters gently, keeping a firm pressure on the wound.

'I don't know,' Johnny answers, 'pulled her out of the water and gave 'er to me... said they don't want her anymore.'

Blood soaks into the fabric of his shirt as you stir.

A moan escapes your mouth, and as your eyes slowly open, you're aware of the agonising pain emitting from your cheek. Then follows the feeling of a familiar sofa, the sound of familiar voices and the warmth of a familiar hold.

Opening your eyes, you're greeted with the sight of Simon in the candle light.

Despite the bags under his eyes and the addition of a few pink scars on his face, he still looks as glorious as he did the night you left him.

'Simon?' you choke out at the sight of him.

You catch a shift in his eyes as he looks at you.

'I'm here, love,' he gently says, 'you're safe; I've got you.'

You can be there to witness his death when we lead him to the sea.

You hear her voice, her cruel tone, and the coldness of her words flood through your veins, fighting off any ounce of warmness from Simon's reassurances.

I shouldn't be here.

In the blink of an eye, you're sitting up and his hold is removed from off of your face as you scramble to the other side of the couch, wincing as a harsh dizziness floods your senses and the desire to vomit springs upon you.

'N- no, no, no,' you quickly say, lifting your head with narrow eyes, pulling the fabric of Johnny's coat against your bare body as you look at the two men with teary eyes. 'How... why, why am I here? How did you get me here?' you ask in a panicked tone.

Simon looks to Johnny and Johnny looks at you.

'There was a siren on the beach—'

'Who?' you snap, 'what colour was her hair?'

'Black... bonnie, are you okay? What happened?'

'I can't be here,' you ramble, 'they're gonna do something bad, they're gonna do it all because of me and- and I—'

You begin to cry.

'I can't be here, you've got to let me go,' you beg, attempting to raise to your feet, all for the dizziness to keep you down. 'Please, please!'

You feel as though the world is ending.

Unable to escape the horror of the words expressed, you fight against yourself and the urge to spill your guts all over the floor of the living room, your tears seeping into the wound on your face.

Simon moves closer to you, placing his hand against your knee, looking up at you with teary eyes.

Reaching out your hand, you rest it against his cheek as more tears flow freely, letting out a hiccup upon being graced with the warmth of his face.

'I'm sorry,' you cry.

Placing his hand over your own, he shushes you, 'we'll talk about it once you've told us what's happened, alright sweetheart?' he asks gently, 'what happened?'

His calmness in the face of horror is unnerving, and as you look in his eyes, you spy a darkness in his eyes. You wish to be in his arms, but your temper keeps you from fulfilling the urge as you press your trembling lips together, wincing as you swallow.

'They know,' you say, looking at Simon, 'they know about you,' you choke out, 't- they think I'm a traitor and they want you dead- they want to put the entire village to death for what happened to Serelia.'

His hold tightens on your hand.

'Why didn't you want the same as them?' Johnny asks, 'very well could have put the entire village under water if y' willed it.'

'Because there are people here who don't deserve to die,' you sniffle, 'there are innocent people here a- and it isn't fair to punish them for the violence of someone else's hand,' you explain, 'they're blinded by their rage, and if I were without experience, I would be too.'

You curse the part of you which still sympathises with the people who cast you out, though, you know enough to understand who the true villain is. Not the sirens, not the humans, rather, the ignorance of both sides refusing to see the perspective of the others.

And here you are, attempting to piece together a bridge.

The pair before you don't speak and you feel your heart beating quicker as you look into the eyes of the lover you abandoned many moons ago. You spy betrayal in his gaze, though his anger is not directed towards you.

'They're gonna lead the entire village underwater,' you breath, 'I don't know when they're going to do it and I don't know how to stop them when they finally do decide they want to do it,' you say, your eyes welling with tears.

'Oh love,' Simon exhales gently.

'We won't let anythin' happen, lass, y' have my word,' Johnny reassures.

You suppose he wants you to find comfort in his words, yet, his enthusiasm only works to bruise you further; you know there's nothing either of them can do, not against the call of a siren.

'I offered to go back on land,' you whisper, 'I told them I could do it; we finally got the name if the man who killed Serelia.'

'This have somethin' to do with the man y' massacred?' Johnny asks.

'I was following the ship because I recognised him,' you answer, recalling the tone he carried while talking about the man in front of you.

Even if he hadn't been responsible for helping in her capture, you still would have been taken from off of the boat.

'He was one of the people who carried Serelia off of the beach. He deserved what became of him.'

To regret would be to forgive, and you will never forgive a man who did something so terrible.

'We crashed the boat, all but one died, and I asked him if he knew who did it. He told me he didn't know who, but he had an idea of who did it; people around here know that whoever it was is close to the guard.'

Both Johnny and Simon share a look.

'Y' not saying you think it's one of us, are you?' Simon asks, to which you quickly shake your head.

'No, no, I know neither of you would do that- not even Kyle or Price would stoop that low... it's the one who was supposed to look after her, Si'. It was the one who told us she was dead that morning.'

The silence in the room is deafening.

Simon's hand moves away from yours as he slowly begins to stand up, his eyes falling back to the staircase. 'Rhys?' Johnny says, his eyes blown, 'he said he liked her.'

Your eyes stay on Simon's as he clenches his fists, the mellow look which has been on his face since he saw you melting off. Trailing his tongue across the inside of his mouth, you gulp thickly viewing his anger.

'I'm gonna fuckin' kill him,' he coldly says.

It's not a threat, rather, a promise.

Neither you or Johnny say anything, instead, the pair of you share a look before your eyes fall back to Simon who is already making his way out of the living room towards the staircase.

If you speak now, you fear the repercussions of stopping him from doing what he's set his mind on doing; while you never saw anything during your first time on land, you're not unknown to the truth of who he truly is.

'Simon,' you blurt out, unable to fight against your thoughts as you look up the stairs.

He stops in his tracks, heaving out a heavy breath before turning to you. You can hardly make him out in the dim light as he moves, devoid of all the light which makes his so ethereal.

Still, in the light or darkness, he's still the man who holds you heart.

'D- Don't act on that anger now,' you quietly say, 'the only way of saving the village from them is to give them what they want... if they want Rhys, they'll want him alive, and if they don't want me, then I'll stay here,' you say through a laboured breath.

Your heartaches at the thought of leaving your home, leaving the grave of your mother abandoned for all the others to swarm. But, if they so willingly cast you out, then, you suppose they were never truly family in the first place.

'Just... stay with me tonight, yeah?' you ask, 'don't want you to do something harsh when you're not thinking straight; he'll get what he deserves, just not tonight.'

You hear him shift as Johnny sets the lit candle down onto the stand beside the sofa. 'She's right, Lt, can't be doin' something that will keep you away from your bonnie; been away from each other long enough, hey?'

He moves away from the darkness, coming back into the light. You offer him a smile as he places his hand against your shoulder with a short nod. Placing your hand over his, you melt into his hold. Johnny looks at the pair of you with a smile on his face.

'We'll sort out a plan in the morning about what we'll do,' Simon says, 'figure out how we're gonna get him to the sirens, and if they agree with the deal, then we'll offer him up and forget this entire thing ever happened.'

'Aye,' Johnny says with a firm nod, approaching the door, 'make sure y' get her cleaned up, I'll meet the pair of you at the bakery tomorrow,' he continues, pulling the door open, looking over his shoulder at the pair of you.

Simon nods his head. 'Affirmative.'

As the man disappears into the night, the door closes with a click, and for the first time in months, you're finally alone with the man. You don't miss the breath that escapes him, in fact, you grow cold at the sound as his hand leaves your shoulder.

'Si'—'

'Need to get you cleaned up,' he abruptly says, 'we can talk about everything once I know you're okay, yeah? You need to get cleaned up before anything, c'mon.'

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip and you fight against the urge to defy his request. Though, recalling the grey bags under his eyes, you find you're raising from where you're sitting. As he said, you can talk about it later, and for now, you find yourself thankful that he simply wants to enjoy your company.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

'I'm sorry,' you whisper as soon as your head hits the pillow. Oddly, as you watch the man move in the moonlight, it's difficult to even process the fact that you have been gone for so long.

Your hair is slightly damp your bath, and while the wound on your face feels as though it has its own heartbeat, the dressing covering it keeps it from weeping freely.

'I just didn't know what to do, and- and I was so angry with myself and I didn't trust—'

'Your hand was forced, love,' Simon utters, laying on is side to look at you. 'I just wish you would have woke me up or left me a note- something to let me know that you were okay.'

Your heart drops at the thought of the months of misery he has suffered through by your hand.

Even though to you it seemed necessary, you know better than to impose your own views onto the man who was left wandering where you had disappeared off to for months on end.

Your absence was necessary yet cruel.

'I know, I know I should have and I'm sorry for not saying something to you,' you respond, reaching your hand out to grab his much larger one. He grabs your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours with a sigh. 'I wish I never left.'

'You did what you thought was right in the moment an' I'd be a prick for telling you you were in the wrong for doin' it,' mumbles the man, 'y' had to figure stuff out. All that matters now is that you're back.'

'I won't be goin' anywhere anytime soon if you're planning on staying with me,' you say, 'could kick me to the streets for everything I've put you through; I wouldn't blame you for doing it.'

'Wouldn't ever dream about it, sweetheart,' he says.

You watch as he scoffs before moving towards you, letting go of your hand to grasp your waist, pulling you towards him.

Shuffling closer, you smile as you press your lips against you, a flurry of butterflies swirling in your stomach a you feel his hand on your waist tighten.

All the months of pain melt in the matter of moments as the pair of you hold each other. It's as though the pair of you have been apart for multiple lives, plagued with the memory of each other, until eventually meeting again in this life.

Tears pool in your eyes, your hand pressing against the side of his face, snaking around to tug at his hair as he bites down on your bottom lip.

A muffled moan escapes you, trailing off into a whine when he pulls away from you. A trail of saliva keeps the pair of you connected as your eyes flicker from his mouth back to his eyes.

'I've missed you so much,' you confess, blinking back the tears as he smiles at you. 'So fucking much- there hasn't been a day I haven't thought about you.'

His hand against your waist loosens as he moves his hand under the white shirt he dressed you in, moving between your thighs.

'Missed you too,' he confesses, his index finger brushing over your clothes cunt with a sigh. 'Wanna show you how much I've missed you,' he utters, pressing the tip of his finger into against your clit.

You comply with a kiss, a small giggle escaping you as he pulls you on top of him. Hands sliding down your waist, you begin to undress, all for one of his hands to catch your wrist. 'Keep it on, sweetheart,' he rasps, 'like seein' you in my clothes.'

Colour rushes to your cheeks as you nod your head, hands gripping the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down.

There's no need for anything, the desire to feel him inside you after so many months obscuring any other sense of yours.

You need him and he needs you.

Tugging down his underwear, goosebumps form on your skin when you hear him grunt as you pull them further down his thighs, freeing his cock from his boxers. You sit for a moment, jumping when you feel his hands squeeze your hips.

'Spit in your hand, love,' he instructs.

You feel his eyes on you as you scrunch your nose up at the request.

'What?'

'Listen to me and I'll help you, yeah?' he asks, 'now spit in your hand.'

Your entire face is warm as you hold your hand out in front of your, spitting into it. 'Good girl,' he breaths, 'now wrap your hand around my cock.'

Listening to him, you reach out, wrapping your hand around him. He hisses as you do so, and you pause upon seeing his reaction, fearful that you've done something wrong. 'That's right,' he utters, as precum pools at the top of your fist as you feel him twitch in your hold, 'no more your hand up and down f'r me, love, get me ready for that pretty little cunt of yours.'

A sinful sound emits as you begin to move your hand up and down his cock, your slick hand moving up and down with ease. You feel his thighs tense below you as you move a hand between your legs, your mouth turning dry from the wetness pooling in your underwear.

'That's desperate, princess?' Simon grunts with a smile on his face. You feel the urge to wipe it off of his face, though, you nod your head in agreement, knowing better than to deny something you so desperately want. 'Pull your panties to the side,' he instructs, 'not touchin' that pussy of yours; you're gonna come from my cock an' nothin' else,' he gruffly says.

Letting go of his cock, you do at he asks of you, a small yelp escaping you as he pulls your forward, his cock pressing against you folds as he sighs.

There's a temperament, a desire lingering to keep you on top, though, as he looks at you with your swollen lips and red face, he relents, moving you so you're lying on your bak with him over you.

'Got plenty of time for all that,' he utters, pressing his tip against your hole.

You clench around nothing, shifting beneath him as he presses his lips against yours.

It's different from the last time, you see something different in his eyes as he pushes into you, the delightful sting from many moons ago returning. Arching your back off of the bed, your whimper against his mouth.

'That's it,' he whispers, 'oh fuck.'

Your legs tighten around his waist, a few stray tears escaping from your eyes. It's a mixture of pain, pleasure, and joy. To be back in his arms after so much time a part is a gift in itself, for him to want you back is another. Your mind is racing as you sniffle, pressing another kiss against his mouth.

'Y' okay, yeah, princess? So good f'r me,' he grunts, slowly pulling out of you. More tears fall down your face as you nod your head, your eyes screwed shut as he thrusts back into you. Clicking his tongue, he pushes into you with another grunt, 'eyes on me, sweet girl,' he huffs, 'haven't waited months for you and your pretty little cunt for you to not look at me, have I?'

You open your eyes.

'That's it, there's my pretty girl.'

You clench around him upon hearing his words, legs trembling as he quickens the pace of his thrusts. The head of his cock presses against your cervix and your arms home to his back, nails digging into the flesh of his back.

'I- I've missed you,' you choke out, unable to account for any other emotion as he fucks into you.

You're crying at this point, the tears on the right side of your face soaking into the dressing as he continues to his all the right spots, stretching you out perfectly.

He's ruined you for anyone else, though it doesn't matter; you know you'll never need anyone else when you have him.

'Missed you too, love,' he states through clenched to teeth , 'missed waking up to you and seeing you, but you're not gonna go anywhere now, you're mine.'

'I am, I am,' you dumbly cry, 'no one else's, all yours forever and ever.' 'm sorry for ever leaving you.'

Keeping himself steady with one hand, he brings his other hand to grab your forearm, pulling one of your arms away from his back, taking it into his hold. Your legs tighten around his waist as a crude squelch sounds in the room, h

'Fuck,' you gasp, your hole tightening around him.

'That’s right, love,' he groans, his lips ghosting over your shoulder, his words were low and sickeningly needy, 'you’re so fucking tight,' he moans, resulting in a hiccuped moan escaping you.

Both of you greedily take whatever pleasure came from your messy movements, sweat dropping down your forehead as you tighten you hold on his hand, writhing below him as he continues to hit the spot which has you seeing stars.

'Gonna make sure I'm always here,' you whisper letting out another breathy moan.

Simon maintains a pleasurable pace, a crude slapping sounding in his bedroom, though neither of you care, and through stinging eyes and aching muscles, you admire him in the light of the moon, taking into account all the flaws on his face, the remnants of mistreatment and burdens, swearing to yourself you will never left another pale scar appear on his body for as long as the pair of you live.

'Not gonna let you leave me now, sweetheart,' he begins, staring down at you, his fringe wet with sweat, stray strands sticking to his forehead. 'Gonna keep you safe, fuck,' he schemes, a subconscious smile forming on your face, listening to him speak. 'Make sure y' never want for anything, only me.'

He growls such words with intent and possessiveness, and in the heat of the moment, you're convinced you need no one but him.

And as the tension in your stomach grows tighter, the brunet hit a spot which almost makes you scream, you drag your hand down his back, leaving lines of red behind as you do so. 'And you'll let me do all of that f'r you,' he chuckles.

'I would,' you whimper, 'fuck, I'm close, please,' you beg, as your thighs begin to tremble, you grip on his hand tightening as you press your head back against the pillow.

'Go on, sweetheart,' he says, 'cum for me.'

He winces slightly as he feels your nails press crescents into his skin, his pace growing messy and sporadic as he chases after his own release.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a brittle sob as an orgasm rips through your body.

'Fuck, that's it, sweetheart' he moans, 'I love you,' he grunts out, pressing into your, your cunt against his pubic bone as his hands tremble.

You barely compute the words passing his lips, and in the daze of your release, you continue to cry as he fucks you despite you being overstimulated, a dark groan escaping from the back of his throat as you feel strings of cum paint your insides.

'I- I love you too, so much,' you sniffle, your head falling against the pillow in exhaustion, finding joy in his hold of you and the pleasure which has washed over your body, rendering all your sense his.

Little worries find you in the aftermath, the pair of you much too tired to discuss what can wait for you in the morning, and the only thing that matters to you in the wake of your orgasm is his body being pressed against yours as you slowly drift off knowing that, even if it is just for tonight, you're secure in his hold.

Here, you find a single moment is comparable to an eternity of touches.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

In the morning, you find yourself sitting outside of the bakery with the ugly green dress you grew to despise during your first time out of the shore, and as you sit beside Simon tugging at the skirt, you startle when he firmly tugs it down, placing his hand down on your thigh, over the skirt to keep in place.

He does so without even turning his attention to you, and even when you turn to offer him a brief look, he doesn't move, keeping his eyes trained on Johnny as he sips from his mug of tea.

'Kyle said he saw another one,' says the man with the mohawk, 'seems they're waiting near the shore for something to happen, or, they're planning on making their move a lot soon than we thought.'

Your face aches as you chew, gulping your pastry down before speaking. 'They wouldn't act so quickly,' you say, 'they want me to get a taste of this before they take it away; when Raithe is angry, she's unforgiving.'

'That's the lass I saw on the beach, right?' Johnny asks, 'the one with the black hair an' teeth as sharp as daggers.'

'Yeah, she's the one who did this to me,' you say, pointing towards the fingerprints around your neck and the clean dressing stuck to your face. Taking a bite out of your pastry, Simon leans further into the table, keeping his hand pressed firmly against your thigh.

'I've put him on patrol tonight,' he says quietly, 'we'll get him alone, call for them to have him and then that will be the end of it.'

'Y' really think it's gonna be that easy?' Johnny asks, 'they seem pretty pissed, don't think they'd really leave us alone that easily.'

'There's nothing else we can do,' you say, 'unless you wanna go into the water and pull them all out one by one and put a knife through their heads, that is.'

Simon's grip on your thigh tightens.

'Cut their tongue out and throw them back into the water if they try anythin',' he cooly states, 'can't sing then, become nothin' but a fish with claws, hardly a threat. They can suffer for all I care.'

Something stirs in your gut as he says so, and while you feel as though you need to keep the women you devoted your life to, you find yourself torn with the desire of seeing the man being so lethal- of seeing how far he would go to keep you safe.

'Sounds like a plan, Lt,' Johnny responds, 'this stayin' between us?'

'Affirmative,' Simon confirms, 'Gaz an' Price don't need to know about it 'cause it'll only cause more trouble if the Captain finds out about it; he won't let us do it.'

'Then we do it tonight, get rid of him and wipe our hands of him,' you say with a grin, 'about time that son of a bitch got what he deserves.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

In the midst of the night, you travel down the steps of the shore alone keeping your eyes peeled as you tread down the shore towards the sand. Your hands tremble in the breeze as you feet grace the sand, te rolling of the tide whispering for your return.

You stay unmoved by the moon and her red glow as you push forward towards the sea, holding your hand against your face as it aches.

All the smiling proved to be particularly poor for the placement of the mark on your face, though you push through the pain, you lips drawn together as you peer onto the surface of the water.

'I thought you'd return,' a voice calls.

You freeze.

As a wave washes up shore, the webbed hands of a woman appear, dragging her body out of the water. Her claws dig into the surface, her pointed ears twitching upon seeing you.

'You not bring your boyfriend with you?' she pouts, tilting her head to the side, 'would have been nice, y'know, meeting the family and stuff.'

'I'm not here to make small talk,' you sharply respond.

Raithe looks at you, raising her eyebrows as she looks at you.

'Oh?' she laughs, 'then please enlighten me.'

'I'm here to make a deal with you,' you breath, bringing your trembling hands together.

One shot or you've fucked it.

The woman's laughter booms along the sea as she rolls around on the ground, clapping her hands. 'Oh, you wanna make a deal with me now? It's a real shame what's become of you, y'know? If I didn't know any better, I'd say that boyfriend of yours has some explaining to do.'

Her comments cause your blood to boil, yet, you remain calm, looking her in the eyes. 'We have the boy who killed Serelia,' you say, clenching your fists, keeping your arms firmly placed against your side as the woman hums. 'We'll give you him and you can do what you please, forbid me the pleasure of getting to rip him to shreds for what he did to her and leave this village alone.'

'A generous offer you pose my lovely,' Raithe hums, pressing her finger against her plush bottom lip. 'You got anything else to sweeten the deal or is that it?'

'I'll never return to the ocean,' you say. 'I'll stay away, stay here on land. You can do what you please as long as it remains in the ocean and not beyond it; you know nature did not give us such a gift to act in the manner you intend to act concerning the people in this village.'

You step back from the shore, keeping the water from touching your feet.

'How is that fair?' Raithe asks, furrowing her eyebrows. 'You get to stay here and live out your life with the human you have foolishly devoted your life to while we're kept from Serelia because you buried her on land.'

'By staying here you are keeping me from the grave of my mother, Raithe,' you spit, "I know you're upset, but I have been punished enough. I'm giving you what you want- you want to kill the person who killed Serelia, don't you?'

Raithe's grin disappears from her face.

'You've been scheming so long you forget who the true murderer is. If I wanted to kill the person who killed Serelia, I would have slit your fucking throat,' she snaps, 'a human dealt the final blow but you are just as guilty for permitting it.'

'I was looking for her,' you blurt.

'If you were so committed to finding her, she would be here beside me right now, but she isn't; she's buried on the land, away from her home.'

'Simon helped me bury her on the clifftop!' you yell, chest raising and falling rapidly. 'She overlooking our home and it was him who came up with the idea in the first place- there are good humans—'

'Simon,' she repeats, 'slips off the tongue that name does.'

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you look at the wicked woman in the water. Her mocking grin renders you small, fragile, and you realise your mistake in mentioning the name of the man.

'I must see the man you speak of, see if he's a good match for you or if you could do better. Perhaps he would be a good friend for the water, hm?' she teased, bowing her head as another chuckle escapes her.

The crunch of sand alerts the pair of you, and as you look over your shoulder, you catch both Simon and Johnny walking along the shore, Rhys in the middle of them as he fights against their hold with his hands tied in front of him.

A delighted squeal escapes the woman lying in the sand as she catches sight of the tall man in the skull mask. 'Oh, I've seen you!' she exclaims, 'sitting on the beach a lot, hey? One might say you belong in the water with the amount of time you've spent here.'

'Shut it,' you snap, turning your attention to the three men standing behind you.

When your eyes meet with Rhys' you find you heart urges you to disobey the terms of your own deal, ripping him from the arms of the men, all to have the satisfaction of watching him crying and fight as he drowns in an inch of water.

Yet, even that isn't fitting for him.

His cries are muffled behind the gag in his mouth and Johnny does you the favour of pulling it out of his mouth. As he opens his mouth, he looks at you with wide eyes. 'I- I fuckin' knew it!" he exclaims, 'I knew I wasn't dreaming when I saw you run into the sea that night.'

'You killed Serelia,' you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

'Didn't think it was that difficult to figure out,' he says, 'no one else knew where she was... well, not until you had your screaming and crying fit outside the cabin; that was a—'

He's stopped as Simon shoves him to the ground. He lands with a thud, all the air escaping his lung as he moans out in pain. Placing his boot on top of the mans head, his face is pressed into the wet sand as he turns to address the woman in the water.

'We got y' the one you want,' he sharply says, 'you take him and you leave.'

'Or?' the woman asks,.

'I cut your tongue out and feed it to the dogs in the village,' he snaps.

Rhys' cries are muffled as Raithe looks Simon in the eyes. Your eye twitches at the prolonged silence, though, when she whistles you find your nerves escaping you.

'A few months ago, you would have had his head for speaking to one of your own like that,' Raithe sneers looking at you, 'but love has your mind warped, my sweet urchin, yes it does,' she scoffs, her eyes narrowing as she turns her attention down towards the water. 'You have yourself a deal, Simon,' she says with a smile.

Relieving his boot from the head of the sobbing man on the ground, Rhys picks his head up, fat tears rolling down his face as he writhes on the ground, attempting to push himself up off of the ground. 'P- Please, I'm sorry,' he sobs, snot trailing down his upper lip as more heads appear from out of the water.

You're far from envious of his position when his shoulders are grabbed. Though, you long to be in the water for what is about to happen.

His screams are hoarse and rough as he's ripped from his home, and as you walk back to stand beside Johnny and Simon. Rhys claws and fights to stay on land as Raithe pulls him further and further towards the water.

Other webbed hands appear and the shrill shriek the man lets out is cut off by a hand covering his mouth as he's dragged into the water.

Upon his disappearance, you allow a breath to escape your mouth as you lean against Simon, rubbing your tired eyes. For months you have dreamt of this very moment, the moment the man who caused so much trouble is finally met with the punishment he deserves, and when his hand breaks the surface of the water again, you grin at the sight of the sea turning red, chunks of his clothing surfacing.

As savage as sharks are the sirens.

'It's done,' you mumble, turning away from the scene.

Simon looks down at you, 'you wanna go home?' he asks.

You nod your head, as the three of you begin to walk up the beach, your blood running cold as a familiar cackle catches your attention, though, you do not turn to address the woman. Instead, you catch Simon's hand in yours pushing further up the beach as Raithe calls out to the three of you.

'Lovely meeting ya, Simon! Hope to see you again some other time!'

His hold on your hand tightens just as it had done during the night before as you walk away from the sea with him by your side, never intending to let go of him ever again.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It's as though you never left him, and every waking moment you spend with him is a blessing. How a human can be a home is a strange concept to you, though, its an oddity that you're fond of.

'Are you gonna eat your dinner or are you going to keep staring at me, sweetheart?' asks the man with a laugh.

Dropping your head, you look down at the plate of food you helped him prepare, your cheeks flushing with colour.

The wound left by your absence is but a wilting scab at this point, the skin beneath unmarked by the actions of your past for the pair of you have an understanding of you where your loyalties lie, and as you pick your head back up to look at him, you understand that your loyalties lie with one another.

'I don't know,' you mumble, 'difficult to take my eyes off of you.'

He grunts at your words, picking his fork up from the side of his plate. 'Your foods going to get cold,' he warns.

You pick your fork up, rolling your eyes, 'you're no fun.'

He lets out a short laugh, 'of course not, love. Got a job to stick to after all.'

'Not while you're with me you don't,' you say.

'Once a siren, always a siren,' he comments.

Setting your fork down, you grab a boiled potato off of your plate, throwing it at him. Unfortunately, he's aware of your plot and manages to duck of of the way before it hits him.

A small laugh escapes you as you're quick to push your chair out, raising to your feet as he does the same. A squeal escapes you are you rush out of the kitchen into the living room with him hot on your trail.

Sprinting up the steps to his bedroom, you shriek as he grabs you and pulls you against his chest. 'Let me gooooo,' you whine, writhing in his hold, 'it was an accident, it slipped out of my hand I was literally about to eat it!'

You land on the bed with a thud, continuing to laugh as he looms over you, his forehead pressed against yours as you look up at him with a bright smile on your face.

'You've got to believe me.'

'You picked it up and you threw it at me,' he answers back, 'I know y' clumsy, sweetheart, but fuck me, are you really that bad?' he asks, pressing his forehead against yours.

Bringing your hands up, you hold either side of his face, looking into his eyes with a sigh. 'I love you,' you say, abandoning the joke the pair of you were tangled in. His stoic expression shatters as he smiles down at you, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

'I love you too,' he utters, before placing his lips back on yours.

In the safety of his arms and his home, you live in high spirits as you know, even when the four walls and the roof are not there to shelter you from a storm, the man with his lips against yours and a hand under your skirt will always be there for you whenever you need him.

Selfishly, you hope he's there forever and ever all for you and only you as you cherish every single part of him.

The regrets from your actions in the past remain on you in the form of the scar on your cheek, though, he sees you no different as he watches your naked body dripping with sweat in the confines of your bedroom, even when you're simply sitting in the library reading a book.

All the time his eyes are on you as though you're the only girl in the world and in return, he knows that you're eyes remain on him and only him.

'You're gonna be the death of me,' he breathes, as you shift, feeling his fingers pressed against your hole.

A smirk appears on your lips.

'Only if it's by your hand I die and no one else's.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

'Simon.'

In the dead of night he wakes to the faint sound of a whisper.

It's something calling for him, a song which shakes the very vibrations of his home, and as he opens his eyes, he captures you sleeping soundly beside him, though, he doesn't care for you as he pushes himself up and out of bed.

His headaches and he wobbles as he climbs from out of his bed. It's as though his body is on autopilot, permitting whatever strange force is pushing him to proceed with his usual routine as he gets up from out of bed.

He walks as though he's a monster, devoid of all consciousness, his limps sluggish and flimsy as he pulls on his clothes for work. You don't move and inwardly, he's unsure why he's doing so; the moon is out, full and round as she peers through the open window, and he knows it's still going to be a while before he has to leave for work.

Still, the urge pushes him to get ready for the day, and he reaches for the skull mask settled against the table near the window of his bedroom, tying it around his head.

You remain sleeping in bed as he moves downstairs, determined to find the noise which causes his head to pound. It feels as though someone is pressing their fingers into his head all to see which part of the brain bleeds the most.

The answer is all of it, though the voice continues to pick away at his skull with such persistence he's rendered aggravated as he walks through the door.

His entire body is on fire as he treads the streets he was walked so many times, though his feet drag against the roads of the silent village, arms firmly pressed against his sides as he presses on with tired eyes and a dry mouth.

The voice changes its tune, no longer calling his name, istead, speaking words.

'Foolish mortal men.'

In a conscious state he would be questioning the words addressed to him in such a manner, he would be questioning why he walks with the intent of making it to the water, and he would be returning back to his home with an ache in his chest for ever thinking of leaving you alone.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he drags his feet with determination coursing through his veins.

To the ocean he must go; the voice is calling him and he cannot fight against the words bouncing off of the streets of the village.

'Sinking into the watery depths of the...'

It grows tired as he edges closer to the water, the crashing of the water flooding his ears, coaxing his burning mind with a brief cure. t's not enough, however, his mouth is dry and his tongue burns, eyes longing for the fiery thirst to subside.

His entire body feels as though it's on fire, and the sea stares back at him, water washing up the shore as the arms of a human would when offering a friend a hug.

Something else is staring too.

'Sirens den.'

The voice is oh so soft, almost a whisper as he makes it onto the beach. The village seems so puny in comparison to the greatness of the vast ocean and he wonders why he ever bothered living on land when the ocean i right her at his fingertips.

Shrugging his cloak from off of his shoulders, he releases himself from the burden of the confines of that stupid cloak, the balaclava from around his mouth falling to the ground after.

It all feels so freeing, to fall under the command of the great sea, to see the beauty in the very thing he has despised for so long. Such an outlook is a blessing, he finds.

It's necessary. It's constant.

He is nothing in comparison of the ocean and her greatness.

No one is anything but flesh and bone existing in one place at one time while she is there, her arms wrapped around the entirety of the planet.

How foolish he has been.

'For a woman in the sea,'

He thinks of you and all you have done for him, how you have freed him, though he finds you and your existence pale in existence of te water which invites him in with open arms.

At first, you were difficult to deal with, untrusting.

But she isn't, she guides him and she's leading him to safety- to the place he belongs. Such a blessing she presents him with and everything you have done for him is nothing as she cools his burning flesh.

It's better than any orgasm he has reached while in bed with you, so inviting that he proceeds to walk into the water deeper. Nothing is enough, her presence is too little. He needs more of her to settle the dull ache in his head and he wades through the water with the intent of finding such.

'is never just a friend.'

The tune stops.

Suddenly, the sea is no longer in his favour and he's turned away with a cold rush of water covering him.

A sharp gasp escapes him as he looks around him, the water up to his waist, waves crashing against his bulky frame as he looks around with stinging eyes. His blood runs cold as he turns his attention back to the village. Then his eyes fall back onto the water.

He knows better than to trust the situation, wasting no time to turn away from the distant abyss of the water, pushing himself through the water all to make it back to land.

To make it back to you.

The depth of the water is relieved, sinking from his waist to mid thigh.

A grunt escapes him as a surge of agony hits him with the fierce intent of keeping him from getting home and he lands with a splash into the water as razor sharp nails are pulled from out of his his thigh.

'Unfaithful scum,' utters a voice as hands from all angles poke from out the water, grabbing him as he attempts to fight his way from out of their hold.

They're merciless as the hold him and keep him to the water while his heart and mind long to be back in bed beside you. He fights and fights, though in his drowsy state he's far too out of it to do anything.

'She's better off without you, Simon.'

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ ☾ ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You awake in bed alone, a banging at the door ruining your brain. However, you don't let it distract you as you spend a moment looking at the empty spot in the bed with a frown.

It's miserable to wake without him in the morning as you have grown fond of spending time with him, lying in bed, drawing patterns on his bare chest, listening to his many stories, or simply just basking in the heat of him.

The bed is cold without him and you shiver as you push yourself up, scoffing at the manic knocks against the door. It's persistent, nearly urgent. You pick up the pace, wrapping Simon's shirt around you as you rush down the stairs to the front door.

Grabbing the handle you pull it open, 'about fuckin' time, Si', you're—'

'What?' you blurt out, looking at Johnny and Gaz standing at the door, 'he's at the station, isn't he?'

The pair of them look at each other before looking at you.

'Nae, lass,' Johnny says, his mouth falling as he looks at you. 'We've been looking for him.'

Your blood runs cold.

He's probably with the Lord or something, it wouldn't be the first time he's be asked for a favour by him.

'Where have you checked?' you ask, quickly slipping on your sandals.

'We've been up and down all the streets to his usual spots, we've even checked the Lords house and he hasn't seen him either... this isn't like him,' Kyle explains, 'he's committed to his job, he wouldn't just not show up and—'

'Have you checked the beach?' you blurt.

Both of them shake their heads and with that, you're running out of the house, rushing to towards the beach.

A wave of panic washes over you, and as you rush down the main street of the village with teary eyes, you feel as though you're rushing to Serelia all over again, only, this time, Simon isn't behind you to comfort you.

People blurt out curses as you push yourself through the crowds, bounding towards the beach just as you did when you returned all those months ago.

Your chest burns by the time you make it to the steps, and as you run down, you stop at the sight of a black mound on the shore. Gulping thickly, you rush towards the pile of fabric, reaching down to retrieve it with a trembling hand.

It's his cloak.

Tearing your eyes away from it, you look down the rest of the beach, dropping the fabric as you follow a scattered trail of belongings. You pass by his balaclava which has been covered in sand.

The wind beats against you, pushing your hair back as you fight for your breath. There are pieces of him covering the beach, just as Serelia's scales covered the floor in the room of that dingy little cabin.

All hope is crushed as, right beside the water you spy a small chunk of bone sitting in the sand. You don't wait as you rush towards the water, spying the shape of his skull mask sitting right before the mercy of the water.

It's as though you're in a nightmare you cannot wake from.

You can't breathe.

As the realisation hits you and the skull mask sitting on the shore stares back at you, you fall to your knees, your wide as you look out at the murky sea, falling onto your stomach at your fingertips ghost the skull sitting against the shore.

A jagged breath escapes you as you pull your hand away, unable to catch your breath as you fall backwards onto you bottom, hands pressed against the sand. Rushed steps appear behind you, though you don't budge, nor do you flinch as a firm hand is placed on your shoulder.

Johnny appears in front of you, his mouths muffled as a tear slips from your twitching eye, staring out into the water all to see Raithe staring at you in the distance, a wicked from forming on her face as she pulls a skull mask from out of the water, holding it up by the silk string he used to tie it around his head with.

Your eyes fall back to the skull sitting on the surface, you breathing quickening at you turn your head to the side, heaving as a cold numbness floods your sense. Your tremble as you force out a sob, your throat tightening.

The skull meters away from you is not his mask.

It's him.

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

TAGS: (If you would like to be added to the tag list let me know!) @forever-twenty-two-years-old @phantomreadsandreblogs @iizx7y

#call of duty #cod #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #mw2 #cod mw2 #cod au #task force 141 #cod mwii #ghost simon riley #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x reader smut #ghost x reader angst #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x y/n #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #siren au #alternate universe #manicrouge

[forjongseong]

medialuna // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: secretary!jay x CEO!fem!reader (part 12 of the series)

genre: office!au, fluff, smut (minors dni) // warning: older reader; Jay calls reader “Boss”; mentions of anxiety, pregnancy; oral sex (m. receiving, f. receiving); unprotected sex; profanity; semi-public sex? (jay uses a sex toy on y/n); mentions of death; CEO!yn has a health scare towards the end // wc: ~11k

previous (and upcoming) chapters:

(check the whole masterlist here!)

summary: married life with Jay turns out to be even better than you can ever imagine, but work-life seems to be wearing the two of you out, and sometimes certain things do come when you least expect them.

author’s notes: he's back! and I'm back! welcome back!

I cannot believe the last sec!Jay episode was posted literally IN MAY 2023!!! I am so sorry! I had it all planned out... I was going to celebrate this series' first anniversary and have it end in the same month... and I swear I already started writing part 12 even before I released the last two minisodes, but then I got stuck for the longest time, and also busy, but now I am back, so here is part 12.

if you check the lyrics to this song that I used as a title you'll see why I used it. as always, if you find any typos or grammatical errors please message me!!

taglist: @thots4hee @jayked @end-hyphen @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @maggstar @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @excusememissiloveyou @shinkenprincess-oh @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy

(send an ask if you want to be added or removed)

It was dark and cold when you opened your eyes. You blinked a couple of times before your gaze shifted to your right, and sure enough, you found his side empty. There was a lump in your throat, and somehow you felt parched. You touched your face only to feel dried tears staining your cheek.

After a couple more seconds, you started to panic, yanking the blanket away from your body and frantically searching for the only source of comfort that you had. The bathroom was empty, so you walked out of your bedroom and scanned the huge living room. You only found unpacked boxes and your sofa still wrapped in plastic, and even the lights in the kitchen were off.

Your hands began to tremble as you made your way to the center of the room. Your head began to spin, and your heartbeat gradually became faster as you tried and failed to gain enough consciousness so early in the morning. Your eyes flickered and you whispered to yourself.

“Phone.”

You went back to your bedroom and immediately grabbed your phone that you had placed on the end table since the night before. You unlocked it and somehow managed to feel even more let down at the lack of notifications. Just as you were about to lose it, you heard the door unlocking and the familiar sound of footsteps entering the house.

Jay was trying his best to make as little noise as possible, but when he saw you walking out of the bedroom, his eyes lit up. Once he registered what was going on though, from the expression on your face, he became worried.

“Hey,” he said softly, just seconds before you threw yourself into his embrace.

You began sobbing on his chest, drenching his shirt in your tears. Your hands were grabbing on the back of his shirt, and with every breath you took your shoulders shook with you. Jay enveloped you in his arms and started making shushing noise.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, squeezing your shoulders. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Your cries did not seem to be stopping soon, and the sound of your wails created a huge lump in Jay’s throat too. His eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to pull you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head. He did not stop rubbing your back in an attempt to soothe you, and once he heard you quieting down, he started speaking softly.

“Was it a bad dream?” he asked in the lowest voice he could muster.

You merely nodded your head, still burying it in the crook of his neck as you sniffled the tears.

“Were you looking for me?” Jay asked again. You nodded softer this time, and Jay felt horrible. “I’m sorry. I should have left a note or texted you. I didn’t think you would wake up so early. I think I spent way too much time at the gym too.”

You responded only with a sniffle, and you began to loosen the grip on his shirt. Jay immediately took one of your hands off his back and grabbed it tight.

“Here, let me look at you,” he said, trying to pry you away from his body.

You shook your head and hid your face on his chest again, refusing to make eye contact. Jay calmly opened your fist and made you palm his face.

“I’m right here,” he said, placing a hand over yours so you would stay cupping his face. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head again, and Jay assumed that it meant he did not have to apologize. It was killing him the way you refused to look at him, though, but in reality, you were just embarrassed that you broke down over something so trivial.

Jay turned his face to kiss your palm, and the warmth surged through your whole body. You regained composure, and once you felt calmer, you tilted your face up, nudging your nose to his jawline. In an instant, Jay placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss.

You kissed him desperately, like you had not seen him in years, and to him it felt like you were trying to breathe in the air inside his mouth. His lips gently danced with yours, stopping in between to let you breathe. His hand never left the back of your head, nor did his arm around your waist, and at that moment you were willing to give anything to make the time stop.

“I love you,” you said as you broke the kiss. Your voice came out as barely a whisper.

Jay nodded, brushing his nose with yours before kissing the corner of your lips softly. He trailed soft kisses from there up to your cheek before stopping on your earlobe. His hand moved up to stroke your hair, making you close your eyes as you listened to his raspy voice right in your ear.

“I love you more.”

---

Jake and Heeseung’s screams of frustration accompanied with Sunghoon’s victorious cackle made the whole room shake. You almost let a clean mug slip out of your hands from the shock, and Jay chuckled at the way you ever so slightly flinched. You looked over your shoulder and saw that the three guys were hunched together, while Isa and Yoon were sitting on the lounge chair across them, eyes glued to the TV.

“I’ll tell them to keep it down,” Jay said, closing in on you and pecking your cheek before he made his way to the living room.

Isa and Yoon’s eyes lit up the moment they saw the tray filled with cold drinks in Jay’s hand, and Sunghoon had to shout at Jake for almost knocking everything down from being so jumpy and chaotic. Heeseung cleared the table to help Jay set the tray down, and then each of them started asking questions about the drinks.

You joined them only after you replied to a couple of messages on your phone, and as you slipped your phone into your pocket you noticed that everyone was already holding their own beverages.

“An informal toast!” Yoon said, raising her glass of iced latte. “To the new house.”

“To the new couple, Mr. and Mrs. Park,” Jake joined in.

“And to Heeseung, for being one of the awardees of our company’s scholarship program,” you ended with a smile.

Heeseung’s jaw dropped, and his eyes widened. Jay was already chuckling, amused at the faces his friends were making.

“Are you serious?” Heeseung asked, looking at you. He then looked at Jay, then at you again.

“Congratulations, buddy,” Jay finally intercepted, nudging Heeseung’s arm with his elbow.

“Cheers!” Sunghoon shouted, surprisingly being the loudest of the group at that very moment.

Three people started talking at once, and you had to jump from one group to another to tend to all their questions.

“So, this housewarming is actually also like a mini wedding reception and like a congratulatory party too? Who is the main character of this party?” Isa asked you, genuinely confused.

“All of you guys, the invitees. And the house maybe,” you replied, smiling sweetly at Isa. “Thank you for coming, girls. I know that you don’t like it when I mix two different groups of friends.”

“That’s bulls, you always nail it when you intentionally introduce your friends to each other. Wasn’t that how we became a trio?” Yoon chimed in, not taking her eyes off her drink.

You continued to talk to the girls for a while until Jake interrupted, claiming that he needed to go to the bathroom, but Sunghoon was taking too long in the guest powder room. You calmly asked Jay to point out the bathroom in the main bedroom before you excused yourself to the kitchen to get a refill on the snacks and drinks.

Not long after, you heard the soft footsteps of Jake waddling towards you. You locked eyes with him, and he was making a concerned and rather uncomfortable face. You immediately started to frown before asking him.

“Is there a problem in the bathroom?” You asked, resting your hand on the counter.

Jake stood beside you and leaned in to be discreet. “You left your sex toy in the bathroom.”

“What?” You half-shouted, half-whispered. “What do you mean?”

“What’s going on here?”

Jay’s voice was calm, but he had it in that lower register that sort of just vibrated, and both you and Jake jumped a little in your places.

“Jake said there’s a sex toy in the bathroom,” you calmly reiterated.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Jay almost spat back in response. You snorted at his reply.

Jake looked at you apologetically before dragging Jay back into the bathroom. You made sure that the others were preoccupied before following the two of them. When you reached the bathroom, you heard Jay’s loud sigh.

“What?” Jake asked, holding up the ‘sex toy’ by its little handle.

Jay’s reaction immediately made sense. You started giggling softly, trying to suppress it from turning into a huge cackle.

“You think that’s a sex toy?” You asked. “That purple spiky-looking thing?”

“Yeah, what do you think we’re supposed to do with it?” Jay added.

Jake visibly cringed. “Ew? I don’t need to know what you two do behind closed doors. I’m just saying if you’re inviting people to your house maybe put away these types of stuff.”

You walked towards Jake, took the ‘sex toy’ from his hand and started pressing it onto his head.

“Noona!” Jake shrieked in horror.

“It’s a scalp massager, Jake! What, just because it’s made of silicone, you automatically assume it’s a sex toy?”

Jay was wheezing against the doorway, and you turned your head to him.

“Baby, don’t laugh like you didn’t think of the same thing when I first bought this.”

Jake’s initially embarrassed face was instantly replaced with relief. The two men then started laughing and yelling at each other while you shook your head and tidied up a little around the sink. When Jay brought up the idea of having a joint get-together of your friends and his, you did not expect it to be this chaotic, but you were glad that you agreed to it.

---

You walked out of your bedroom, one hand rubbing your eye as you tried to stifle back a yawn. The sound coming from the kitchen woke you up, since it was repetitive, and Jay did not seem like he was trying to be quiet. In his defense, he wanted you to know that he was there, so he made loud noises on purpose.

“There’s my beautiful wife,” Jay greeted you as soon as he caught you in his sight. He was doing the rest of last night’s dishes as he waited for breakfast to cook.

“Really?” You chuckled. “I have dried up drool on the corner of my mouth and my hair looks like a bird’s nest.”

“Signs of a good sleep then, that’s nice,” Jay replied nonchalantly. “That means last night I did tire you out, didn’t I?”

Holding back a smile would be useless as Jay was already looking at you with his signature smirk. A proud smirk, you thought. Last night was probably one of the best nights you had with Jay, if you could even list down your favorites.

You had been watching House of the Dragon for a while, and although Jay wasn’t the biggest fan of fantasy mixed with gore, he still sat with you through every episode. It melted your heart that every time a stomach-turning scene was about to come up, Jay would always lean into you and let you hide your face in the crook of his neck until the scene ends.

This time, though, the scene came on without warning and you both gasped loudly at the same time. Your mouth hung open and you knew Jay had the same face despite him rubbing his hand on your shoulder to console you. When the episode ended, you turned to look at him and he smiled apologetically.

“Sorry I wasn’t fast enough to catch that,” he said, pouting.

You quickly turned the TV off and moved to sit on his lap. You thanked him with your mouth, not with words but in a way that you were certain he would appreciate. After a hot minute of making out, you hopped off the sofa and kneeled in front of him, knowing how hard he had already become.

Jay grasped onto the throw pillows and blanket on the sofa as you gave him the suck of his life. He couldn’t stop moaning whenever his tip hit the back of your throat, and the view of him with his exposed and clenched jawline and his eyes rolled back just motivated you to go even harder. He thrusted his hips up and grabbed your arm, which you thought was a warning, so you calmly stroked his thigh until he came in your mouth.

You had to very carefully pull away to not let any of his cum drip to the floor. As you did so, a drop of it trickled down your chin and you swore Jay let out the shakiest breath ever. He sat up and wiped his thumb along your bottom lip, catching the remains and thrusting his thumb into your mouth, making you lick it dry. After that, he rested his hand behind your neck and pulled you into a deep kiss, tasting himself on your tongue.

“Bedroom?” He whispered after you pulled away to catch your breath.

You nodded enthusiastically and the next thing you remember was being naked with him on your new bed with brand new silk sheets. The feeling of the soft sheets contrasting with the way Jay was holding your hips made your heart beat a lot faster, and you desperately tried to slow things down as you took the lead, grinding your hips on his lap as he sat up with you, his cock twitching inside of you every time you clenched around him.

Your hands were touching him everywhere, his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, his shoulders, and as you mustered all the energy you had left to keep the pace, Jay kissed your chin before lifting you up and instantly switching your position. You were now lying on your back, and Jay held your legs spread open as he started to thrust into you faster than before. Your breath hitched and you grasped the sheets behind you, while Jay chased his own high and squeezed your boobs as he released his seed inside of you.

Your heavy breaths were now in sync, and you saw Jay panting, which was something that rarely happens. Usually, you were the only one out of breath, so you couldn’t help but form a small triumphant smile.

“How are we feeling?” you asked as Jay managed to maneuver you both, lying sideways and facing each other without him having to pull out of you.

Jay chuckled softly before kissing the tip of your nose. “I’m so beat right now, fuck.”

You laughed softly and started peppering kisses all over his face, loving the way his arms automatically wrapped around your waist.

“Wasn’t I the one that tired you out?” you said, snapping back to the present and trying to dismiss the image of last night. You did not need to get wet so early in the morning, not when Jay was making breakfast for you both.

“Alright,” Jay replied, wiping his hands on the apron he was wearing. “Let’s say we both did.”

You nodded once and let Jay get back to his thing. He had told you several times that he did not mind being the only one busy in the kitchen, and having you eat whatever he had prepped was rewarding enough.

For you, though, seeing him in the kitchen was a reward in itself, for Jay often cooked or cleaned with sleeveless shirts, or shirtless, or in a unique combination like right now.

“Is that apron really necessary when you’re shirtless like that?” You asked as you sat on the stool facing the counter. You placed your elbows on the counter and rested your chin on the back of your hands.

“I feel like you’re trying to tell me something so why don’t you get to the point?” Jay asked back, smirking at you before diverting his attention back to the meal he was prepping.

“You look very fuckable, husband.”

Jay let out a breathy chuckle before turning around and serving you a plate of omelet with mushrooms and a small portion of salad. You looked at his plate and he had the exact same thing except with cherry tomatoes.

“As much as I’d like to have you for breakfast,” Jay began, “we have a very important meeting this morning and I need you to not skip a meal.”

“Fair,” you replied, smiling when Jay pecked your cheek. He took his apron off before sitting on the stool beside you. “This looks amazing. Thank you, baby.”

“Anything for my queen.”

---

The computer screen in front of you was already set to a dimmer light, but despite that it still hurt your eyes. You had already taken a power nap, finished a cup of iced latte, yet the drowsiness remained. You heard a knock on the door and waited for Jay to let himself in.

“The last meeting of the day is in fifteen, Boss,” Jay said as he walked to you, spinning a pen in his hand and having his iPad secured in his arms. “Still sleepy?”

“You know me best,” you answered, leaning back on your seat and stretching your arms as much as you could. You yawned and Jay had to look away to not catch it too. “I’ll just get cold water.”

Jay looked like he was contemplating something as he watched you walk to the mini bar. After a couple of seconds, he rushed out of the office and before you could even say a word, he returned less than a minute later, holding a small package in his hands.

“I was gonna wait until we got home, but…”

You eyed the box in his hand. He was already smiling at you.

“What do you have there?” you asked, almost too scared to find out the answer.

Jay peeped his head out your door, making sure none of your employees were around. He reckoned that Hwiyoung was on a coffee break, so he calmly closed your door before he made his way back to you.

“Don’t get mad at me, but I ordered this for funsies,” Jay said, giving the box to you.

“You open it.”

Jay sighed and shook his head, thinking that it had been years at this point of him taking orders from you, but he would still do it for another thousand years. He grabbed a pen from your desk and used the tip to break the seal, and within seconds you were looking at a sleek box with a vague image on top of it.

“Is it like a massager? That would make me even sleepier, Jay,” you complained before you could even see the actual item.

“Stay with me,” Jay replied calmly, completely unboxing the item.

It was a two-piece device, one remote and the other…

“It’s magnetic,” Jay explained. “You can clip this to the inside of your panties, and I’ll hold the remote. Wear it during the meeting so you can be alert at all times. When I catch you zoning out, be ready for it to vibrate.”

“You’re fucking joking,” you said, chuckling to yourself. “Right?”

“Baby, I’m very serious,” he replied in his actual serious voice. “When naps and caffeine don’t work, I had to get creative to find a solution.”

“This sounds like more fun for you,” you sighed, taking the device from his hands and examining it up close.

“Well, yes, but you’ll feel the pleasure.”

As you were holding the main device, Jay pressed the remote and it vibrated in your hand. You almost jolted from the shock and you both laughed out loud from your reaction. Jay quickly turned the device off and took it out of your hand.

“I understand if you don’t want to try it now. We can always do it some other time,” Jay said, turning his back to you and already packing the device back into its box.

You licked your lips before you made your decision. You took a step closer to Jay and held his wrist, stopping him.

“I’ll do it.”

---

During most meetings, your presence is usually needed to review your team’s ideas and give necessary feedback. This means that you rarely had to speak, and around eighty percent of the time you would always be listening to other people speak. When you’re sleepy and losing focus, this easy task could be particularly hard to follow.

You and Jay were sitting at the end of the table, the farthest from the whiteboard and the chairs where the speakers were gathered. The meeting room was large enough to have everyone sit with ample space between each other, making them have to lean in if they wanted to whisper a thought. You had both your hands clasped in front of your face, your lips touching your thumbs as you were listening to Keeho’s presentation.

Jay caught you slow blinking several times before you shut your eyes for more than two seconds. He reached into his pocket and pressed a button on the remote. Your body jolted awake, and to quickly hide the reaction you faked a sneeze.

“Bless you, Miss,” Keeho said without missing a beat before continuing to talk.

You side-eyed Jay and he immediately mouthed ‘sorry’ to you. He winked and took his hands out of his pocket, and you relaxed for a moment. The meeting carried on and you started making notes on your journal while waiting for the next speaker to set up. Jay then noticed that the movement of your pen paused, so he slid his hand into his pocket again and pressed the remote.

The shock you expressed this time was in the form of a slam on the table. Your team thought you were losing patience and they apologized to you in an instant, almost in unison. Jay had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from laughing, and once Beomgyu started his presentation, you lightly slapped Jay on his thigh.

You were now paying close attention to Beomgyu and you even commented on a few things, earning more comments from the rest of the team. While Yeji was telling you about her thoughts on one of your remarks, Jay pressed the button on the remote. You couldn’t hold back from letting out a moan this time, but you were quick to put a hand over your stomach.

“Sorry,” you quickly muttered. “That time of the month,” you continued, faking a smile.

“Oh, I can talk to you about this some other time, Miss,” Yeji replied, smiling back with concern. “Maybe Beomgyu could wrap up.”

As your team refocused their attention back to Beomgyu, you shot daggers at Jay with your eyes and a look that said, ‘what the fuck was that for?’. Jay only threw a smug smile as a response.

The meeting was eventually adjourned since it was getting late, and you had always been against your team working overtime unless it was absolutely necessary. That, and the fact that Jay could not stop pressing the remote and driving you crazy.

“You seem to be having way too much fun,” you said to him as you stared at the elevator waiting for it to arrive.

Jay stood proudly beside you, both his hands in his pocket and his head tilted up slightly. You had never seen him this cocky. The elevator then dinged and as you entered, you were relieved to find it empty. However, you heard several people talking and before you knew it, Yeji, Beomgyu, and Keeho joined in the elevator.

“Miss,” Keeho greeted you with a smile. “Going down?”

Beomgyu was about to press the lobby, but you shook your head and Jay cleared his throat.

“Back to the office, actually,” Jay clarified. “You guys can go home though.”

Beomgyu nodded and pressed the number to your floor. The three of them stood in front of you, talking to each other in whispers. The elevator ride down felt like it took so long, and it did not help that Jay pressed the remote in his pocket, again.

“Shit,” you muttered, leaning into Jay and grabbing his arm for support.

Jay’s cocky smile quickly shifted into fake concern once he noticed everyone looking at you.

“Are you okay, Miss?” Beomgyu asked.

“Miss, I have painkillers but they’re at my desk. I can go get it for you,” Yeji chimed in, reaching to touch your arm.

You merely grabbed onto Jay and squeezed his arm unnecessarily hard. Jay winced and chuckled to defuse the tension.

“I got it from here, guys. Thanks,” Jay smiled at them, putting his hand over yours and caressing you gently.

You arrived at your floor and as you exited the elevator with Jay, your employees waved at you still with concerned looks on their faces. As soon as the elevator door closed, you yanked your hands off Jay’s arm, and he cackled as he followed you back to the office.

You had dismissed Hwiyoung earlier, so you did not have to worry about any employees lingering around your office. You swung the door open and pulled the hair clip off your hair, throwing it haphazardly on your desk. Jay followed you and closed the door behind him before taking the remote out of his pocket.

“Mission accomplished?” Jay asked, dangling the remote in front of your face.

“Shut up.”

You threw your body towards him and he caught you in his arms, also catching your lips in his. The remote dropped from his hand and you continued to move closer to him, making him take several steps backwards until he hit a wall. Your hands were firmly cupping his face so you could dominate the kiss, but his hands were roaming freely all over your body.

“You made me all wet,” you whispered, kissing his cheek. “That wasn’t the goal.”

Jay smiled, pushing your skirt up your thighs and reaching for your panties to detach the device. “But what if it is?” he asked as he got rid of it. “What if the goal is exactly to make you wet?”

“Then you’re gonna have to clean up,” you muttered, pulling him by his tie and switching positions, making him cage you with his arms. “Be a good boy, will you?”

You placed both your hands on his shoulders and started pushing him down to his knees. The moment he realized what was going on, Jay chuckled and ran his hands down your sides as he went down. He even dragged your panties with the hook of his fingers and carefully took them off your feet.

He looked up at you with his gorgeous, gorgeous eyes and you took a deep breath before you witnessed his face disappearing under your skirt. You let out a soft whimper when you felt his plush lips kiss your folds, and it did not take long for him to completely devour you, making your lewd moans escape your lips. His hands were parked on your ass firmly, and you began slowly grinding your hips while you placed the back of your arm against your mouth to conceal the noises you were letting out.

Your other hand snaked down to the back of his head, and you tugged on his hair. Jay moaned into your cunt and kept his pace until he noticed your legs tensing up. The grip on his head became stronger as you reached your high, and he was moaning softly along with you, his voice muffled by your own heat.

Jay lifted his head up to look at you, and he was proud that the look of your fucked out face was the one to greet him. You looked at him and saw that his face was a mess, his drool mixed with your cum stained all over his mouth, so you calmly wiped his lips with your thumb.

“Stand up,” you whispered, licking your lips.

Jay did as you said and you greeted him with the softest kiss, feeling him melt into your touch.

“Do you think we can do that again?” Jay asked, brushing his nose against yours.

“Yes, but not in front of my employees,” you answered.

Jay chuckled and you smiled at him. “Out in public, maybe?”

“Sure,” you replied. “But only if you fuck my brains out afterwards.”

“Deal,” Jay said in a split second. “That’s an even bigger win for me.”

---

You were sitting on an outdoor lounge chair by the porch, legs up and facing the beach that was walking distance from the villa. On the coffee table was your laptop, showing several windows open as well as a pile of documents to its side with your sunglasses case acting as a paperweight. As you were reading a chat from your phone and crosschecking it with a document on your screen, you felt a soft tap on your arm.

“Auntie.”

You turned your head and smiled as soon as you saw Ayun.

“Can you brush my hair?” she asked politely, holding up a hairbrush with one hand.

“Of course, darling,” you replied, setting your phone on the table and patting your thighs. Ayun immediately climbed to sit on your lap.

From inside, Jay was prepping the ingredients for an early dinner, and he could see the porch from the huge window on the side of the kitchen. He paused cutting up the potatoes to watch your interaction with Ayun, and soon after, Seungho entered with a couple of snacks and drinks in his hands.

“In case you need refreshments,” your brother said, setting the snacks on the table and heading over to the fridge to store the drinks. “Whatchu got there?”

“Oh, uhm,” Jay stuttered at the sudden appearance of your brother. “Just Japanese-style curry, if that’s okay?”

Seungho chuckled. “What do you mean ‘if that’s okay’? You’re the chef here, we’re definitely just gonna eat what you make. Oh, by the way, Byunghee can’t handle spice.”

“Noted,” Jay replied. “I’ll have the chili flakes separated and served on the table later.”

“Awesome.” Seungho smiled and took a few steps closer to where Jay was standing. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can help you with? I mean, I did hear from my sister that you’re very much a lone chef…”

Jay nodded. “And she is right. I’ve got it covered. Thank you, though. And thanks for inviting us to stay for the weekend.”

Seungho smiled and waved his hand. “It’s nothing. I really wanted to spend more time with family, and I figured the only way to make my sister come down here to Jeju is to forcefully book her tickets and let her stay in this beach house—oh, my God that is adorable!”

Jay blinked and quickly joined Seungho looking out the window. You were holding up your phone, having it on selfie mode, while letting Ayun sing whatever song she was trying to belt out. Ayun was giggling because of the cat filter you had put on.

“For someone who says she doesn’t like children, she really is good with them,” Seungho said, sounding a little solemn.

“She is,” Jay responded, almost a whisper. He then cleared his voice and continued with the meal prep.

“I’m actually glad that we decided to adopt Ayun. I don’t know if my sister had told you, but initially we wanted to be child-free. Some time along the way I think our views both changed.”

Jay had to stop chopping a carrot to gather his thoughts and process Seungho’s words. “I think you both made a great decision. Ayun seems to be happy having two great dads.”

Seungho chuckled softly and smiled to himself. “Thanks for saying that. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

Just as Seungho reached the doorway, Byunghee appeared.

“Go get our daughter and play with her for a bit. I wanna talk to my sister,” Seungho said, placing a hand on Byunghee’s shoulder.

---

You were drying your hair in the bathroom when Jay entered after knocking on the door softly. He gave you the warmest smile and you noticed the hint of fatigue on his face.

“Ayun doesn’t seem to get tired easily, does she?” you asked knowingly.

Jay pouted and nodded, and his adorable expression made you laugh. He stood next to you, and you made room for him, scooting to the side so he could use the sink.

“I had a long talk with Seungho earlier,” you said as you watched him reach for the toothpaste. “He seems to be very proud of Ayun and is having a blast raising her with Byunghee.”

“I can see that,” Jay replied, his voice muffled by the toothbrush in his mouth. “And Ayun is such a nice little girl. I’m sure they’re doing something right.”

You nodded and fell silent as you put away the dryer and began organizing the skincare by the sink. Jay noticed your unusual behavior and quickly wrapped up brushing his teeth.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he said after rinsing his mouth one last time.

You tilted your head and hesitated for a second. “I know that we haven’t really talked about it before we got married, and that’s on me, but what are your thoughts about having children?”

Jay smiled at you softly and turned to face you. He began rubbing both your shoulders with his hands. “Is this what you talked about with your brother?”

“Answer the question, Jay.”

“Alright, Boss,” Jay chuckled, leaning in to peck your cheek. “It’s your body. If you want children, then I will be happy to have them with you. If you don’t, I respect that.”

“Are you being honest?” you retorted, furrowing your eyebrows.

“When have I ever lied to you, Y/N?”

You were about to list all the excuses he had given you before, but you realized all of it was to keep the proposal a surprise. Every little white lie he told you was a cover up that led to him proposing to you, so you couldn’t really count those.

“Really? Playing with Ayun all day didn’t make you feel some sort of spark?” you asked again, this time crossing your elbows in front of your chest.

“How about you?” Jay asked back. “You spent a lot of time with her today. Did it awaken something in you?”

“You always ask me back my questions without answering,” you pouted, shoving his hands away and turning away from him.

Jay smiled and looked at you through the reflection in the mirror. “If I don’t Uno-reverse you, how will I ever know what you really think? I can’t read minds, my love.”

You pouted even more and began leaning into Jay, throwing all your body weight on him. He responded by circling his arms around your waist, pulling you into a hug. You continued to look at each other through the reflection.

“I don’t like kids in general, but maybe I’d like them if they were ours?” you asked, unsure.

“If we had a mini-me and mini-you that would literally be the most adorable thing,” Jay agreed. “But again, it’s your body. I know the thought of pregnancy isn’t that dreamy to you, so we can consider adopting if you really want us to raise a child? We can follow in your brother’s footsteps.”

Hearing Jay’s suggestion, a smile creeped up on your face. You closed your eyes and tightened your arms around his body, nuzzling your face to his neck.

“I married the right man,” you mumbled, taking in his scent.

Jay smiled and moved his head to kiss your temple. “Aren’t you glad?”

You pinched Jay’s waist as a response to his remark and he winced before letting out a hearty laugh. Your nose brushed against his chin as you attempted to kiss his jawline.

“So, ultimately I get to decide because it’s my body, right?”

Jay hummed as he squeezed you tighter, trailing his hands down from your hips to your ass.

“There’s a part of me that’s yours too, though,” you whispered, resting your head on his shoulder and looking at him through his reflection again.

“Your heart?” Jay replied.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you shook your head. “God, you’re such a romantic.”

Confused, Jay pulled away from you to look you in the eyes. You grabbed his hand from behind your waist and guided his palm to touch you between your legs.

“Oooh,” Jay reacted, nodding his head. “I get it now.”

“Idiot,” you muttered, pulling his face in for a deep kiss.

Jay kissed you passionately, pressing his body onto yours until you had to arch your back, feeling his hands squeezing your ass. You held his face firmly, moving your lips in sync with his and letting your tongues dance together. He bit your lower lip gently and you chuckled softly.

“Minty,” you commented.

Jay smiled and pecked your cheek three times. “Better than morning breath, right?”

You grinned and shook your head as you took his hand in yours and led him to the bed. You sat down on the edge, and he watched as you began to undress, leaving nothing on your body. You then wondered why he was just standing there doing nothing.

“Baby?” you called. “What’s wrong?”

Jay shook his head, never taking his eyes off your body. “You’re just so beautiful.”

You scoffed. “You’ve seen me naked a million times…”

“Take the compliment, Y/N.”

The tone in the way he said your name made you visibly blush. You brought your hands up to cover your mouth because you did not want to let Jay see your stupid grin.

“And you’re a professional panty-dropper, Jay, so please just get naked with me.”

Jay laughed at your ridiculous remark, and you laughed with him, waiting patiently until he got rid of all his clothes. When he was finally naked, he lifted you up by your waist and you shrieked as he moved you to the center of the bed.

“Sssh!” Jay said in a hurry, bringing one hand to cover your mouth. “I think your brother is still awake.”

“Jay, we’re adults, they are adults, they know what we’re doing anyway.”

“Yeah,” Jay replied, his hand moving to caress your face. “But if I had a sister, I wouldn’t love it if I could hear her getting railed.”

You groaned in disgust and Jay just laughed, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Are we doing this or what?” you complained, lightly slapping his arm.

“Be quiet for me, okay?” Jay said as he began rubbing your waist.

“I thought you liked to hear me moan,” you complained, pouting.

Jay let out a moan of frustration and you chuckled before he silenced you by shutting your mouth with his. You both smiled into the kiss before you felt his hand squeezing your ass and moving down to spread your legs. The soft chuckles you let out turned into whimpers, and your body twitched whenever Jay put pressure on your folds with his fingers.

“Jay,” you called out breathlessly after minutes of him playing with your cunt. “I want you.”

He kissed your cheek and let his lips linger there for a moment before he whispered in your ear. “I know.”

Jay coated his fingers with your arousal and spread it all over his shaft. You licked your lips in anticipation as he aligned himself with you, and you took a deep breath as you felt him enter you. Your mouth hung open and your eyes closed, and as Jay began thrusting in and out of you, he intertwined his fingers with yours, placing your hand above your head.

He knew what he had to do to make you moan, he knew all the right buttons to push, so out of courtesy, tonight he took it agonizingly slow. Every deep and slow thrust he made only made your breath hitch, and the loudest sound you let out was a whimper. You felt his hand grab your thigh and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist.

His chest was pressed onto yours, and the heat of his body was enveloping you and beginning to cloud your senses. You could feel his cock twitch inside of you whenever you clenched harder, and you were delighted to hear his soft little grunts by your ear when it happened. His arms flexed as he continued to hover on top of you, and you started to caress his shoulders to soothe him.

“I’m close, baby,” you whispered, grasping his shoulders.

“Cum for me first, love,” he replied, brushing your hair back.

Jay leaned into you and began sucking on your neck softly, knowing just the right thing to make you reach your high faster. He noticed your body tensing and he sucked harder, deciding not to worry about the mark that would be left on your skin. As you climaxed, you whined near his ear and he calmly shushed you, kissing your cheek.

“I love you,” he mumbled, lips brushing yours. “So much.”

You felt him release his seed inside of you and you hooked your feet together, pushing his body even closer to yours. His hips rutted and he groaned softly into your ear, so you brought your hands up and entangled your fingers in his hair. Jay licked his lips before he pushed himself up to get a look at your face.

“I love you,” you mouthed, smiling when he leaned in to kiss your lips.

Jay smiled and carefully pulled out of you. When he moved to the side, he placed one hand over your core, and as he felt his cum dripping out of you, he slid a finger over it and stuffed it back into your cunt. You almost hissed at the feeling, grabbing onto his shoulder again.

“Wouldn’t want to waste a single drop,” Jay whispered, kissing your chin. “Also, I don’t want to dirty these expensive looking sheets.”

You laughed but it came out as a snort, and Jay found it hilarious that his body began to shake with the silent laugh that he let out.

“Not too loud!” Jay half-whispered, half-shouted.

“At this point my brother is going to think we’re just watching Netflix in bed,” you whispered back.

“That might seem like a better option,” Jay replied, bringing his hand back to your waist and squeezing it softly. “Do you need another shower?”

You shook your head. “I kind of like the feeling of being sweaty after having sex with you.”

Jay smiled, proudly. “Good. Me too.”

---

The ride to the office was quiet since both you and Jay were busy with your own gadgets. Jay was reviewing a presentation that he had made, while you were checking unread messages on your phone. Your hand stopped scrolling once you read a status from an old friend, and you immediately set your phone gently on your lap and brought one hand to cover your mouth.

“Is something wrong?” Jay asked, noticing the shift in your gestures.

“An old friend from college passed away,” you muttered, moving your hand to massage your temple. “I knew that she was sick, but I haven’t checked on her over a month.”

Jay deemed that the situation was too delicate for him to even comment, so he set his iPad down and grabbed your hand. He held you tightly, intertwining your fingers and caressing your hand with his thumb. Once you adjusted your seat and took a deep breath, he looked at you carefully before he spoke.

“If you wish to visit her family, I can cover for you,” Jay said, looking at the road ahead.

“It’s all the way in Busan,” you replied, already sounding so defeated.

“I’ll book you a flight.” Jay squeezed your hand before letting go. “We’re here. I’ll ask Hwiyoung to sit in for the meeting while I handle the rest of it.”

“I’ll be on standby, Miss,” Mr. Lee chimed in, smiling at you through the rearview mirror.

You sat still in your seat as Jay grabbed his bag and opened the door. Mr. Lee even turned around slightly to look at you both.

“I got this, Y/N.” Jay leaned into you and kissed your cheek. “Mr. Lee, if you don’t mind would you kindly drive her back home so she can pack? I’ll text you the details of the flight later.”

Mr. Lee nodded and waited for Jay to close the door. He then rolled down the window for you and Jay bent over to look at you. You had tears welling up in your eyes and you could only mouth ‘thank you’ to him. He smiled at you and blew you a kiss before standing up straight and turning around.

---

The day went by in a flash. You arrived just in time for your friend’s funeral, and you were glad that you chose to wear all black when you were getting dressed earlier in the morning. After giving your condolences to the family, you had to stick around for a meal and ended up meeting other friends that you met back in college. The brief catch-up was quite pleasant, but you left with a heavy heart.

Jay decided to pick you up from the airport himself, since you insisted on flying back the same night instead of the next morning. You did not have to wait long until your car pulled up, and when you hopped in, Jay leaned over to place a soft kiss on your cheek. He let you both sit in silence, knowing that it wasn’t the right time to be asking you a bunch of questions. At almost every red light, when Jay’s hand was idle, you intertwined your fingers with his and he gave you a reassuring squeeze before the light turned green again.

When you arrived home, Jay quietly took your bag and your jacket and waited for you to walk ahead of him towards the house. He began tidying up a little as he let you unwind and do your own thing, and he turned on the jazz instrumental playlist that you had displayed on the TV. You checked on him once in a while as you took your make up off and undressed to get into the shower, and you saw him cozied up on the sofa with a book. You had no idea that the respectful silence he gave you would make you feel comforted and guilty at the same time.

You still had a towel wrapped around your head as you walked towards him in your new silk pajama set. He looked up from his book, and before he could say anything, you spoke first.

“Namjoon was there.”

You noticed the subtle shift of emotion in his eyes before he straightened his position and made room for you to sit.

“My friend,” you began, “may she rest in peace, was the one who introduced me to him, so it would be weird if he wasn’t there.”

Jay looked at you and found you staring blankly at the coffee table in front of you.

“Everyone else was there too. Some I haven’t seen in years, and they thought that Namjoon and I were still a thing.”

You could hear rustling beside you and you noticed that Jay was quietly putting his book away.

“We talked a lot, all of us. And just the two of us too. It was nothing important…”

You began to realize that Jay had been quiet for longer than usual, and it had never happened before, so you stopped mid-sentence.

“Please say something,” you whispered, almost to yourself.

Without a word, Jay moved closer to you and pulled you into his embrace. You cried, staining his shirt with your tears, and as you were shaking in his arms, he tried his best to console you with his warmth. He rubbed his hands along your arms and your back while he repeatedly whispered ‘it’s okay’ into your ear.

“You’ve had a long day,” he finally said, pulling away from you. “You need to get some rest.”

“You’re not mad?” You asked, eyes still teary yet beaming at him.

“Why would I be?” Jay replied, wiping his thumb along your cheek. “Go to bed, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

You nodded and let Jay help you stand up before you turned and headed towards the bedroom. After getting rid of your towel and sliding underneath the blanket, you realized that Jay was probably going to take some time to wash up, so you decided to go on your phone and backtrack the chats and interactions that you had with your friend.

First, you went to your phone’s gallery, but you could barely find any pictures of the two of you, so you went to your cloud storage to dig for pictures dating back to more than a decade ago. You found screenshots of your chats with her, and you made yourself laugh as you reread the chaotic conversations you used to have. Your weak smile was instantly replaced with faint sobs as you let the thought sink in—that you were never going to have a chat with your friend again.

You almost jumped from the bed when you felt Jay’s arms sneak around your waist. With one hand, he gently took your phone away from you, setting it on the end table. He then pulled you into his arms, caging you completely. You could not muster a word out of your mouth, so you brought one of his hands to your lips and kissed it, leaving a tear-stained mark on the back of his hand.

---

You woke up to complete silence. The sun was already shining brightly, and you did not have to squint since the curtains in your bedroom were left closed. It took you a couple of seconds to register the faint noise in the background, seemingly coming from the kitchen. As you turned to look at Jay’s side of the bed, you found it empty, and you saw a note sitting on top of his pillow.

“Be ready for breakfast once you wake up,” it said.

Smiling to yourself, you shoved your blanket away and went straight to the bathroom to wash up. All you did was brush your teeth and wash your face and put on the quick version of your morning skincare routine. You changed into a new crop tee but left your pajama pants on, thinking that you look pretty enough from your torso and up.

Your slippers made a muffled sound and as you reached the kitchen, Jay turned around to face you. He gave you a big smile before plating the pancakes he just made on a plate for the both of you. You chuckled when you saw your plate with perfectly stacked pancakes and garnish that was obviously carefully put, while Jay’s plate had three stacks of pancakes that almost looked like the leaning tower of Pisa with the fruits haphazardly spread around the edges.

“Perfect timing,” Jay said, wiping his hands with a tea towel before taking his apron off. “Good morning, my love.”

You walked towards the counter but completely ignored the breakfast. Instead, you took a couple more steps to reach your husband and threw yourself into his arms.

“It’s always a good morning if I wake up to the sound of you,” you murmured, lips touching his neck. You could hear him chuckle softly.

“I’ve trained myself to be only slightly noisy if I wake up before you,” Jay replied. “Now let’s dig in.”

You shook your head, bumping it with his shoulder. Jay had to take a step back to look at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” You asked, tilting your head.

Jay smiled before pecking your lips. “Even if you don’t tell me, I already know.”

You hummed as you let him pepper soft kisses all over your face. “So can I still show you even if I don’t tell you?”

Now it was Jay who was tilting his head. “What do you mean?”

You sighed and shook your head gently. Then you placed a hand to cup Jay’s face and kissed him on the chin. “Take the hint, Jay.”

“Uhm,” Jay gulped. His eyes fluttered shut as he felt your lips trailing wet kisses along his jawline. “Okay.”

You both laughed at his awkward response but then Jay quickly silenced you with his lips. The way he kissed you with force made you arch your back, almost losing balance, but his arm was firmly wrapped around your waist. With every aggressive kiss that landed on your face, he took a step forward until he cornered you to the counter.

“Thank God our kitchen is huge,” Jay whispered, picking you up by your waist and making you sit on the counter.

You giggled and nodded, resting your arms on his shoulders. He stood between your legs and stared at you for a while, eventually making you blush and look away.

“My gorgeous, gorgeous wife,” he said, cupping your face and turning your head to face him again. “How did I get so lucky?”

“I could ask myself the same thing,” you replied. You did not blink as you grazed your lips along his.

When Jay latched his mouth onto yours, your hands immediately slid down his biceps and made their way to his abs, lingering for a second before you slipped one hand into his pants. He gasped slightly against your lips as he felt your fingers wrap around his hardened length.

“Good morning to you, Sir.”

Jay almost snorted at your remark, but he quickly set the mood again by resting the palms of his hands on your ass and squeezing them. You yelped at the gesture and buried your face in his neck to laugh wholeheartedly. Jay managed to find his way back to your lips, kissing you endlessly, passionately, like you were the only thing he needed to breathe in.

Everything else went by so fast but so slow at the same time, you felt. In mere seconds, Jay got rid of his pants and yours too, and the next thing you remember was him thrusting into you at a frustratingly slow pace. You wanted him to go fast, but you also wanted to savor every moment. You wanted him to go hard, but you also wanted to feel every part of your skin light up whenever he touched you, or whenever he twitched inside of you.

Jay kept the slow pace as he rested his forehead against yours. He was breathing through his mouth, and you could feel the air around you turn into his scent. His sweat trickled down his face, and you caressed his cheek and rested your hand there, closing your eyes while you bask in the feeling of being completely enveloped in his warmth.

Your moans were repetitive in his ear, but there was no sound that he wanted to hear more. The way you grabbed on his shirt and bunched the fabric in your fist just made him want to thrust into you more, to be deep inside you even more. He placed a hand on the small of your back, gently pushing you more towards him, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and latched your feet together, locking him in.

“Jay,” you whimpered, slowly losing your breath.

“I got you, baby,” Jay replied, kissing the back of your ear.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and felt him rut his hips into yours, and seconds later you felt the warmth of his cum coat your insides. Jay tilted his head to kiss your neck and suck your soft skin a little more intensely, sending you to your own high too.

You both stayed in the same position, panting almost in unison. When you felt him starting to pull away, you placed a hand on his back.

“Stay,” you whispered. “For a bit.”

Jay adjusted his position and placed his palms on the counter, lifting his head to look at you. His smile looked tired, so you gently caressed his face and brushed his hair back.

“Jay,” you began speaking in the softest voice you could muster. You saw his eyes lock with yours. “I need you to know that I’m yours. Heart, body, mind, and soul.”

Your statement was merely met with a blink of his eyes, so you decided to elaborate.

“I know I might not say it as much as you do, but I truly love you. And I might not show it in the same way as you do, and I don’t know why, but I try to, and…”

Your sentence was put to a halt because of your sealed lips. Jay pulled back from your lips with a smack.

“I know,” he said. “Believe me, I do. So don’t you worry.”

You had to fight back tears from streaming down your face again, so you pulled him into another hug. He took in your scent and breathed against your shoulder.

“I’m yours too,” he mumbled. “Completely.”

---

The next months, you swore, went by in the blink of an eye. The last quarter of the year was always the busiest period for almost any company, and it included yours. You were having back-to-back meetings, flights to cities you had never been before, and you also had to supervise a new group of interns that your staff had hired.

Jay was surely the most valuable person through it all. He always made sure you were taken care of, both at the office and at home. He also kept a close monitor of his own health, claiming that he could not take care of you if he was not in his best condition. He would forget small things occasionally, but you never gave him hell for it.

You found yourself more accommodating as well, saying yes to almost everything he suggests related to your best interest. You had been having fewer arguments, but more comfortable silences. All in all, the hustle and bustle of your daily lives somehow made your relationship even better.

Until that one fateful day, where you had to attend an important meeting that clashed with another scheduled meeting in your office. After a slight panic in rearranging things, you decided to delegate Jay to the meeting outside so you can handle the one in your building. Luckily, Yeji was right by your side to take over Jay’s usual position.

You were feeling off from the minute you woke up, but you tried your best to hide it because it was an important day. Jay had even more things to worry about too, so he wasn’t exactly as attentive as other days. In fact, you managed to breathe a sigh of relief the moment he told you he was leaving for the meeting.

The sharp stabbing feeling on top of your left eye did not wear off as you tried your best to focus on the presentation. Yeji glanced at you whenever you brought a hand to touch your forehead, and eventually you did it so many times that she just had to ask.

“Are you alright, Miss?” She leaned into you, trying to keep her voice low.

You nodded gently. “I think I need to use the restroom.”

The large meeting room was on the floor above your office, so it would take too long if you used your private bathroom. You turned your heels towards the women’s restroom, gently letting the door go and close behind you.

It took a while for Yeji to notice that you were taking a bit too long. She only noticed after the other attendees started getting restless because they expected to hear direct feedback from you. Yeji then quickly stood up and excused herself to go fetch you from the bathroom.

“Miss?” She called, pushing the door open.

You had your head down facing the sink, and your hands were grasping the edge of the counter so hard that your knuckles were turning white.

“Miss?” Yeji started to sound worried. “Miss, are you—”

Your hand slipped and you almost hit your head on the floor as you slowly slumped, but you could hear Yeji’s breath hitch as she desperately tried to reach you before you could hurt yourself.

“Miss!”

You were losing your vision, but you felt your head resting on Yeji’s lap. You heard Yeji saying that your lips were so pale and your hands were cold as ice. In the midst of her panic, and feeling her body rustle under you as she reached for her phone in her pocket, you could feel your consciousness slipping away.

“Park, please,” Yeji said into the phone, almost breaking into a sob. “She’s about to faint.”

You could hear Jay’s faint sound through the phone, asking about your location, and the next thing you knew everything was black for a short moment. When you opened your eyes again, Yeji’s lap was replaced by Jay’s, and before you could register anything else, you threw up all over his chest.

“It’s okay,” Jay muttered despite being worried sick himself. “I’m here, just let it out.”

You blinked several times and saw Yeji holding her phone and furiously typing on it as she stood by the entrance, also holding the restroom door open with her body. You looked up at Jay and you had never seen the type of expression he was wearing on his face.

He brought up one hand to your face to wipe the vomit off your chin, but he was clearly trembling. “Yeji,” he said before clearing his throat. “Medic?”

“On their way,” Yeji replied in an instant. “Should I—”

“I’ll carry her down,” Jay said, carelessly wiping his shirt with a paper towel that Yeji gave him.

“I’ll come with you,” she said after she was done typing on her phone.

Jay was now rushing, seeing that you had closed your eyes again. “Stay back and notify the people at the meeting,” he said, grunting as he picked you up in his arms. “In both meetings, actually. I had to leave mine too. I’ll meet you in the hospital.”

Yeji nodded and held the door open as wide as possible to let Jay pass with you in his arms.

---

The consistent sound of the repetitive beep on your left was what made you wake up. You blinked and looked to your side, only to find Yeji’s eyes widening as she slowly stood up.

“Miss,” she said softly. “Stay here, I’ll go get a doctor and find Park, okay?”

You gave her a faint smile and then chuckled to yourself. It wasn’t like you could move anyway. You had an IV drip inserted into your hand and your body still felt heavy. You stared at the ceiling for a while and then noticed that the walls were painted a nice shade of ivory, and a moment later you heard the sound of footsteps rushing towards the door.

Jay entered first, locking eyes with you instantly as he made his way to your side. He took your free hand and made you cup his face. He still looked worried, and you couldn’t tell if the sparkle in his eyes were tears that he was holding back or the reflection of the lights.

You were so focused on Jay that you didn’t notice the doctor speaking to Yeji on the other side of the bed. Their muffled voices slowly became clearer to you, and you were able to make out the last part of her sentence.

“…at least until the baby comes,” you heard her say, clutching the stethoscope around her neck.

You turned to look at Yeji’s direction and you felt Jay’s hand squeeze yours gently. “What?” You asked, the only word you managed to let out.

Yeji covered her wide smile with both her hands and looked at both you and Jay. There was a brief exchange of glances before Yeji and the doctor excused themselves, leaving you and Jay alone.

“You knew?” You asked Jay, watching him get comfortable as he leaned on the bed closer to you.

“I did have a short conversation with the doctor before you woke up. Before that, I didn’t. I’m sorry I didn’t notice the signs, my love.”

Your eyebrows began to furrow, and the grip you had on Jay’s hand began to loosen. Jay quickly reached for your hand with both of his, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

“It’ll be okay,” Jay said. “We’ve got this.”

“It’s not what we planned,” you croaked. You could already feel the tears welling up again. In all honesty, you were not sure how to feel.

“We can adapt,” Jay replied. “It’s what we do best.”

You watched as Jay lifted your hand and gently brought it to his lips, kissing your hand and lingering for a while as he closed his eyes. You felt his breath on your skin, the warmth of his hands, and as he opened his eyes you knew he was happy, and that was why his eyes sparkled.

Trying your best, you reached out both arms towards him and he immediately scooted closer, helping you sit up to properly embrace you. You sobbed softly as you rested your head on his shoulder, and he calmly rubbed your back and your sides as he showered you with words of affirmation.

Once he was certain you had calmed down, he pulled away and kept his hands on your shoulders.

“Alright, love?” He asked, bringing his hand to your chin to tilt it up.

“Your shirt smells like vomit,” you replied weakly before turning your frown into a smile.

Jay chuckled silently and moved closer to leave a kiss on your forehead, and in that instant, you felt a thousand times better.

-END-

© forjongseong 2024, all rights reserved

SECRETARY!JAY will return…

#writtenbynana #fic: medialuna #enhypen #jay #enhypen jay #jay enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jay smut #jay enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen hard hours #jay hard hours #jongseong hard hours #jongseong #park jongseong #jongseong park #jongseong smut #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #nana secretary!jay agenda #Spotify

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Your Whole World

Astarion x Reader!Female!DarkUrge One shot

approx 3.2k words.

CW: 18+, minors DNI, face fucking, oral sex, fingering, PiV, smut, choking, bleeding, biting. rough sex, creampie, blood play

cross posted on ao3

A/N: oh hi everyone… I couldn’t resist adding an Astarion smut to my repertoire. Besides, he has such a chokehold on me right now. A few things; if you have read my other posted one shot, you make notice a few similarities. I’m very proud of that fic and this being my first time writing in over a year, I borrowed a few elements from it to inspire me and get ideas flowing. It’s minor, but just FYI. also, sorry if there are any glaring grammatical mistakes/typos/tense errors. also i barely proofread. the majority of this was written in the middle of the night so I could give all of you sadistic fucks the most heinous christmas gift ever. So enjoy some sex and a dash of fluff. please don’t hesitate to give me feedback :)

Nothing sparked a glow in Astarion’s eyes like watching you standing over your most recent kill; bloodied and battered beneath you moments after landing your final strike. Lowering your hands and brushing loose hair from out of your face, you lift your gaze to meet his.

“Gods, it never gets old watching you work” he purrs, stepping towards you to further relish the moment now that the enjoyment of the bloodbath you created could begin.

Months had passed since you freed yourselves of your pasts. Astarion, exacting revenge against Cazador and ascending to his present form. Yourself through your rejection of Bhaal. Together you destroyed the Elder Brain, banishing any doubt that either of you would be puppeted by anyone, ever again. You remembered the night it all ended fondly, Astarion pressing you to accept his gift of immortality. Though you declined at the time, citing your desire to experience the rush of near death but a few more times, you assured you always planned to accept and commit to an eternity with him. You also remembered the way he fucked you that night, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy and back. How he promised to make you edge for every so-called “rush-of-near-death” you wished to experience before entering immortality with him. How he fed on you until you were nearly drained, exacting his dominance over your life. How much you

fucking.

loved it.

In the time since that night, you had parted ways with your companions and set forth on your journey together. Time was spent ravaging the nobles estates, killing off anyone who threatened you, giving in to every sadistic whim and desire. Nothing but the exacting of pure chaos as a victory lap before getting down to the real business. Power was still to be exacted.

“My Queen of the Hells…” He breathes, stepping towards you across the white tiled floor of the home belonging to whatever Mage of High Sorcery you had just butchered. Still meeting his gaze, you watch his pupils dilate as the scent of your own blood from the oozing gash on your cheek overcomes him.

You smile, extending your hand for him to take. His hand meets yours for a brief moment, before tracing his fingers up your forearm across to your waist and holding you firmly against his body. The both of you take a moment to admire the bodies that dotted the main floor of the ornate home, and the blood that so starkly contrasted the white decor.

“Shall we explore?” You ask, a cunning smile spreading across your lips. Astarion nods, his face dotted with specks of blood and his pupils so black they eclipsed his crimson irises.

“My love, you know I want to.” He affirms, his voice liquid velvet echoing the grand hall you stood in. After all this time, even his smallest endearments still fill your abdomen with warmth.

Together, you proceed up the opulent white tile staircase to the second level. There is no secret as to what you were looking for. Nothing filled you with lust and desire the way watching Astarion dominate his opponents in battle did. His most malicious attacks read like a dance, it seemed even his enemies were not immune to melting in his striking gaze. Though you promised to yourself that you would never be a servant to anyone again, the rules were much more malleable when it came to Astarion. You adored being under him, subject to his control and desires, the feeling of existing to pleasure him. Property he cherished, though still his property, he once declared.

At the end of the hallway at the top of the stairs, the former tenants bedroom lay vacant and freshly tidied. You watch as his graceful hand turns the doorknob and unlatches the door. On the other side was an appropriately opulent bed chamber dimly lit by fading mage light, now that the magic of the previous owner had begun to dispel. Upon entering the room, Astarion’s focus intensifies on you.

“Gods… you’re so beautiful…” He turns to you, his eyes examining your face, one of his fangs caught on the outside of his slightly parted lips. He brings his free hand to your bloodied cheek, pressing his thumb into it. You welcome the wince of pain at his hand and lingering for a moment. You could see the lust in his darkened eyes, hear the desire in his gruff voice.

You bring your hand to meet his on your face, and press his thumb deeper into your wound. The pain elicits a sharp exhale, and you watch Astarions eyes flicker to yours then back to your wound. Every sensation he imparts upon you was a taste of bliss. He slips his hand out from under yours, and brings his thumb to his mouth, gently licking it before closing his lips around it. A soft moan escapes him. He wants all of you.

The moment he removes his thumb from his mouth, you move to meet his lips with yours, entering a forceful and hungry kiss. You taste the slight sour of your blood in his mouth as he teases your lips with his tongue. You press your body against his, feeling a growing bulge in his pants.

“May I, darling?” He asks as his hands find the bottom of your shirt . You nod, and he tugs it over your arms and head. Your freed breasts bounce gently from the movement, and Astarion quickly brings his fingers to your erecting nipples. You press yourself further into him, kissing him hard. He hadn’t yet removed his light armour, and the coolness of the metal tingles your nipples and hardens them even further. He kneels, trailing kisses down your chest as you stand, and makes quick work of the tie holding up your trousers. He slides them off you with your undergarments and aided you in removing your shoes. He rises to standing again, gently nibbling at you on the way up to meet your lips again.

You pull away from the kiss for a moment, bringing a hand down to the base of his top, awaiting him to assist you in the removal of his layers.

“Mmmm..” He moans in anticipation, “Not this time my pet.” A sultry growl in his voice. He places his hands on your shoulders, and slowly presses you down. “On your knees, my precious thing.” He orders.

You obey, lowering to the floor. The cold hard tile digging into your kneecaps as you look up to Astarion from the ground.

You are his precious thing.

He takes a step back to remove his own armor and clothing as you watch, kneeling naked on the floor in front of him. Your heart quickened and you felt your folds dampen with arousal as Astarion removed his pants, freeing his erect cock that had been buldging for freedom just moments prior. His tip already slick with precum, glistening in the dusky room. Your mouth waters in anticipation. He indulges in a few strokes of his length before stepping closer to you, your eyes level with his muscular lower abdomen. There you sat beneath him, eyes wide with admiration and chilled from the cool tile floor, dripping in your own arousal, waiting.

“My love, do open your mouth for me.” He asks, his voice a breathy hush.

You obey, parting your lips and letting your tongue slide out. You knew how he wanted to use you, how you wanted to worship him. With your hands clasped behind your back, you welcomed his cock into your mouth. Your mouth waters at the saltiness of his precum and Astarion’s composure falters as a moan escapes him. He adored fucking you this way.

His cock quickly met the back of your throat, and you began to salivate fiercely to welcome it. You try to swallow but your throat closes around Astarion’s cock, and saliva begins to pool in your lower jaw. He slowly fucks your mouth, pulling out so that his tip met your lips, then thrusting hard to push his cock further and further down your throat, digging for your gag reflex. You cough, and your vision blurs as tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh, that’s it pet,” He moans, pushing deeper into your throat. Tears spill over, running down your cheeks and you blink to clear your vision as well as you can. He feels the flood of saliva building in your mouth and withdraws, then cocks his head to one side in admiration of you. Saliva flows down your chin and neck, dripping on the floor between you. You gasp for air, then open your mouth once again. He smirks, and runs his hand through your hair. He aligns his cock with your mouth again once more, you allow him to enter but not before teasing the spot below his glans that you know will send thunder through him.

The delicate moment is lost upon an abrupt thrust of Astarion’s hips, forcing his cock as far down your throat as he could. He continues to fuck your face with concentrated thrusts at the back of your throat, blocking any air from entering your lungs. A burning sensation grows in your chest as you try and fail gasp for air. Your vision grows fuzzy as a dark veil begins to shroud the corners of your vision, and you begin to choke. He takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you off of your cock, leaving a string of saliva pulling from your mouth to the tip of his throbbing length. Tears trail down your cheeks and you quietly gasp for air. Seconds after you inhale he shoves his cock back into you, fucking even harder than before.

“That's it my love, I know you yearn for breathlessness, I could give you this forever.” He praises, tightening his grip on your hair and humming with pleasure. You catch him with his gaze towards the ceiling, enjoying the filthy sounds. Beginning to feel the fire in your chest building again, Astarion pulls himself out and you gasp for breath, this time with enough time to notice the tears and saliva mixing with the blood from your face flowing down your bare chest.

Nearly as exerted as yourself, Astarion comes to his knees to greet you, meeting your slick and swollen lips with his own.

“Look what you’ve done to me…” you whispered between kisses, reaching up to feel the wetness on your face.

“I am not nearly done with you yet,” Astarion growls, pulling away from your lips then tonguing over his own, relishing the taste of your blood. He placed one hand on your mid back, and another to guide you down to lay gently on the floor. The chill of the tile on your warmed skin sent a shiver through your body, causing your nipples to erect once again and goosebumps to cover your body. Astarion smirks, admiring your body and the arousal leaking from between your legs. He works his way down your neck placing loose, open mouth kisses down your neck and chest, allowing his fangs to catch on your skin as he moves. He finds your left nipple and began to trace his tongue around the hardened sphere of flesh, sucking and flicking.

“Astar…ion….” you moan, fluttering your eyes. Now he was just teasing you, waiting for your patience to wane. “A..Ast..star..ion” you moan again, your clit swelling and throbbing between your legs. “P…p..please… Ast..star..ion” you beg, undulating your hips to touch his, attempting to alert him of your desires.

“Impatient tonight are we, my dear?” He coos, looking up to your eyes from where his face rested on your breast.

“P..please… touch me..” you beg, and you see a grin spread across his face, his two fangs glinting in the light.

“Now am I supposed to say no to that?” he asserts, not breaking his gaze as he begins kissing and lightly biting down your abdomen. Your stomach fluttered as you watched him move towards your pelvis. You admire his beautiful silver curls shift on his head while he moves his hands to your thighs to signal you to spread them, and you obey.

He traces circles with his fingers on your thighs, sending shivers through your body. Slick fluid drips through your folds and you feel your walls pulsating with the beat of your heart, you are desperate for him. You are certain you have never wanted anyone more than you have ever wanted Astarion, beautiful, powerful, Astarion. His aspirations, his ascension, and your mutual freedom, his unwavering devotion to you and only you. Gods, was there anything else you truly needed besides him?

You are snapped back to reality when he licks his cunning tongue up your folds, circling quickly around your clit. You take a sharp breath in and wrap your legs over his muscular shoulders, taking a fistful of his curls in your right hand. He wraps an arm around one leg and pressed down on your lower abdomen a few finger widths above your pelvic bone, not breaking the contact between his tongue and your clit. His ascendant strength holds you down as you adjust your hips, begging for him to indulge you. He teases your entrance with an icy finger, and you clench around nothing. A moment later, he slowly pushes two fingers inside of you, hooking them rhythmically to catch your G-spot. Your back arches and waves of warmth course through your body, reveling in the pleasure he was bestowing upon you. He drags you up to the “Darling, I thought you’d never ask” he responds coyley. It was often routine for him to feed on you while he fucked you, elevating his own ecstasy and you enjoying the way he held your delicious little life in his hands.

He kisses his way to your left inner thigh, and without warning, pierces his fangs into your tender skin, and blood begins to spill. You breathe out slowly, enjoying the pain he inflicts on you and the pleasure from the fingers still toying with your clit. You feel him drinking from you and your blood pressure dropping, sending a shockwave of dizziness to your head. This was pleasure like you had never experienced before him.

Astarion rises from his feed at your thigh, and slinks his way back to meet your mouth with his. Once again you taste your own blood in his mouth as he kisses you with such urgency and near corporeal desire.

“I need you… to be inside you..” he desperately speaks between kisses, and you feel him shift his weight to fumble with his throbbing cock. His facade has cracked, palpable, burning eagerness leaking through. He parts your folds and drags his cock against his bite, still exuding blood. For a moment he teases your entrance with his tip, but you know his grip on his composure was slipping. Carnal. Insatiable, it was coming.

He thrusts inside of you, and you moan with adjuration. Your walls expand for him, and you spread your legs, bending your knees to allow him the deepest thrusts he could muster. Your breasts bouncing in rhythm with him, and you reach your arms around his shoulders to pull him nearer to you. You moan hungrily in his ear, knowing this and the filthy noises of your fucking would drive him duly mad. He moans, breathing heavily and kissing you hard, enjoying every sensation of you around his cock. It was clear that he was edging to his finale, but it was now your turn.

You untangle your arms from him and press your hands on the front of your chest, and gain enough leverage to roll him off you and onto his back, you, only an instant behind him. You slide him back inside of you, then bring your hand to his mouth for another taste of your wetness and blood. He closes his eyes and licks your fingers, preparing himself for your turn of the fun.

His cock flexes inside of you and you find his wrists and guide his arms above his head, gripping them tightly to the floor. Your extended position leaves your breasts hanging just above his mouth, and he lifts his head to lick and suck. Slowly at first, you lift your hips so only the tip of his length remains inside of you, linger for a moment, only to come crashing down to him. His eyes widened and mouth opened, an aching moan coming from within him. You repeated the motion, watching him gasp and moan, withholding and flooding him with pleasure. The stickiness of your arousal, his precum, and your blood mixing on his thighs, squelching with each of your movements. After demonstrating your control over him, you release your grip from his wrists above his head, and lean back, forcing his cock to press into your walls. His hands find your hips, and he digs his fingers into you as you rhythmically fuck him. You push him closer and closer as slowly as you can handle. You push him to the edge, so, so close.

You find your swollen clit with your free hand, and begin rubbing in heavy circles. Astarion loves watching you pleasure yourself on him, using him to reach your own peak before allowing him his own. As you rub yourself and ride him, you feel intense pleasure rising within you.

“I- I’m going to come,” you moan, moving your hips faster and faster on his cock while applying more pressure on your throbbing clit.

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words arrive, only fast, broken breaths.

You sing his name while you squeeze him with your thighs, gushing over his cock. Finally, you are over the edge. An intense euphoria floods through you as your walls contract around his cock. Your heart races and you gasp for breath, reveling in the pure pleasure you were experiencing. Astarion bucks his hips into you, desperate to spill himself inside. His silver curls now clung to his sweat-dampened forehead.

“O-oh f.. oh fuck…” He speaks, now fully lost his control and desperate only to join you in your pleasure. The contractions of your walls on him are sending him over. A powerful moan rises from his chest and with a few beastly thrusts inside of you, he spills. When he comes, he throws his head back and moans your name so it echoes within the tiled bed chambers.

His thrusts mellow, and eventually his twitching cock inside you calms. You lay forward on him,

His breath slows, and he wraps his arms around you, welcoming his coolness. He kisses your temple, then begins to rise. He helps you to the freshly made bed, and rests beside you.

“I love you, Astarion.” you say quietly, delighting in his arms woven around you.

There you lay together in your nakedness, the sweetness of your undying love cleansing all desire for anything more. No promise of power could be worth the sacrifice of losing each other. Despite both your aspirations and contributions to chaos, the constant of having each other for eternity was an invaluable prize to you both. You turn and delicately kiss his neck, breathing in and savouring his scent garnished with the metallic of your blood that was beginning to dry and crack on your skin. You feel his embrace tighten around you and you close your eyes, listening to his beating heart and melting into the arms of your little star. And he loves you too.

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[badnoahmens]

I took your keys, it was me

Noah Sebastian x Reader

A/N - One of the longest fics I’ve written. Please let me know if it is too much drabble (but also please be nice because I am a fragile little person) and also I’m sorry if there’s typos because I just do that sometimes.

Based off of something that happened at a Bad Omens show, how could I not write about this fantasy? Watch the first few seconds of this to get what I mean. https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSLYKGjCV/

The night had finally arrived, the concert that you had been waiting months for. For the first time, Bad Omens was playing in your city, and it didn’t matter how much tickets were going to cost you or how long you would have to work to build your funds up again, there was no way you could be stopped from going. Your friends like them too, and shared the excitement, but you would never admit how much their music had a chokehold on your life. Whether it be the thrashing drums of ‘Artificial Suicide’ pumping you up for the day, or the moody solemn tones of ‘The Fountain’ that made you cry at 2am, this band was a big part of who you were.

Your outfit was planned, a classic you always felt confident in, and your schedule for the night was mapped out. The easiest way was to drive yourself there, meet up with your friends, and then make your way into the venue. With the price of VIP being way out of your budget, you couldn’t bring yourself to justify it. Seeing them live would have to be enough, and of course it would be.

When the night came, the stars seemed to align for you. Finding a car park nice and close, only a 5 minute walk to the venue, as well as somehow magically not being late to meeting up with your friends. The energy inside of you was buzzing and you had a bounce in your step as you walked up to see your friends all huddled at the end of the line. They welcome you with embracing arms and you all talk about how you ‘can’t believe the night is finally here!’

“What song are you most looking forward to?” your friend asks, now about an hour into waiting in the line, sitting now with legs crossed and looking back at the growing line behind you.

“I’m really hoping they play Miracle. That song's progression and build up is just something else. Can you imagine what it would be like?” you reply with enthusiasm. The conversation continues for the remainder of the evening as you wait patiently for the show to begin.

After more time has passed, the line begins to move. The doors have opened and people are starting to funnel their way into the dark room. Although it was calm before, the energy of everyone waiting to see this sold-out show picks up instantly and the volume begins to grow with excited chatter.

Your group splits up, some heading into the crowd for a good spot to watch the show, others head for the merch line, and at least one headed straight to the bar. You opt in for the crowd. Being a seasoned concert-goer, you stuck to the right hand side, knowing this is where a lot of movement happens and it was more likely you could get a closer view.

The supporting band started and the crowd lurched forward, still not reaching the maximum capacity as people were still floating about. Your legs trip a little underneath you before you finally find your footing. A familiar riff begins to play and the opening band takes their turns making their entrance to the stage. The light was dim so only silhouettes could be seen, but it was a thrilling way to start the night. The band continued to play an entertaining show, interacting with the crowd and thanking everyone for coming to see them. With about a 30 minute set, they truly put in all their effort by playing crowd favorites, new songs, and even a call-back to their earlier music that was a personal favorite.

By the end of their allocated time, they thanked the crowd, tossed out their remaining guitar picks and drum sticks, and then headed off backstage. There was quiet music playing off the speakers now while everyone in the crowd used this time to catch their breath. Others needed a break from the sweaty mosh pit, and left to take care of whatever business they needed to. The group in front of you decided to head out, and kindly offered you their spot. You obliged, barely even hearing them ask if you wanted to move up, and slipped by them as they made their way out. By the time you manage to steady yourself, you realize it is only a single row back from the front of the crowd, the barricade almost within your reach. You didn’t want to push it though, knowing how long some of these people waited to have their spot up front, you just stood your group and hoped there would be an opening at some stage.

Even without any band playing, the crowd was still moving quite a bit, to the point where people were getting a little rowdy. It seemed as though some were growing more impatient as time went by and were trying to move around and gain a more advantageous position. Throughout this movement, someone was shoved, acting like dominoes into your direction, knocking a few people over. As you start to feel this happening, your hand instinctively throws itself to the barricade, reaching between two people to stop yourself from crashing down on top of the people next to you. In doing this, you catch the person who falls on you, a teenage boy by the looks of things. He looked a little embarrassed and even a little flustered, but thanked you and righted himself quickly. Those who were in front of you saw that you had reached up to help yourself, and then did their best in the crowded space to assist you where you coud. Two nice strangers parted just enough for you to stand upright and motioned for you to join them along the front. WIth all the movement occurring, you thought it was probably the safest move to have something to hang onto, not to mention it was the best spot in the house.

Almost as though it was timed, just as you got into your new position, the lights dimmed and the crowd absolutely roared with cheer. You could feel the crowd move in waves behind you with pressure crashing into you. In what looked like slow motion, figures began to grace the stage with their presence, with the soundtrack of a low, slow and suspenseful drum beat starting to fill the room. It was almost hard to hear the guitar and bass begin over the noise the crowd was making, some sounding like caged animals as they screamed bloody murder.

The lights lifted in time with the melody that began, and lo and behold, Noah was standing in front of you. His eyes were shut with one hand pressed up to his ear, a microphone held in his other hand. Jolly was next to him with a stoic look on his face, and Nick Rufilo on his other side, looking down as he strummed the tune being played out. Nick Folio was behind them all, sat up on a raised box adorned with his drum kit, gently beginning to build the heartbeat of the song.

It took you a moment to truly wrap your head around what was happening, Bad Omens we’re finally playing in front of you. In person. Barely a few feet away from you. It’s mere seconds after this happens that electricity runs through your body and you’re immediately jumping along to the hook of the song, ‘Nowhere To Go’. The barricade in front of you was a saving grace as you could feel the swell of people behind you tossing themselves around, breaking apart spaces to dance and thrash about. It didn’t take long before crowd surfers began to topple over you, falling into the arms of security guards that dappled the empty space between you and the stage. You were shoulder to shoulder with strangers, but it didn’t matter anymore. These people were your people because you were in a space where nothing even mattered other than the performance you were witnessing.

The first song comes to a close too soon, and the next begins, each member of the band not missing a beat. You could see it in their eyes that they were just as excited as you were for this show. Noah in particular seemed to be in a good mood, shuffling, dancing and bopping around on the stage, seemingly less serious than normal. He was blowing kisses to his bandmates, to which would send them right back to him. They laughed and joked during the performance and it made the whole show that much more entertaining.

More songs came to a close, and it seemed like Noah himself needed a break from the high-energy show he was putting on. The crowd was starting to settle down, still swaying with the songs but the initial throw of bodies had started to slow. During this rare break in music, your hand swiftly brushed against your pocket and you noticed the lack of contents that should have been there. Your car keys, that you literally needed to get out of here, were no longer clipped and safely tucked away in your pocket. A panic begins to wash over you and your eyes dark around the crowded space as best you could. Leaning over the barricade, you check to see if you can see them, if they had somehow shimmied down and onto the floor there, but to no avail. Your feet are shuffling around in the hopes to maybe, just maybe, kick them or feel them in some way, but there is nothing but other people's shoes and the odd drink can that had been carelessly discarded.

It was then when your ears pricked at the sound coming from in front of you.

“Are you okay? You drop something?” and then nothing followed. Amidst your panic your eyes dart up, meeting those of Noah looking down at you. His chest was still heaving slightly, seemingly out of breath himself, but he seemed genuinely concerned about the state you were in. “You alright?” he asks, with the crowd looking around with confusion.

“My keys,” you call back, trying to break above the sound barrier that was the chatter of the crowd around you. Noah looks perplexed as he tries to decipher what you’re saying. It still hasn’t quite hit you that Noah was checking in on you, and you can tell he didn’t quite hear you, so you repeat yourself again. “Keys!”

“Keys! Oh, we need those” Noah retorts, and leans over his perch on the stage so that he towers over you in the crowd. He seems to peer down at the space in front of you, and then drops down into the photo pit right where you stood. It was starting to dawn on you that the singer of your favorite band, the one you had been waiting so long to see, was standing in front of you, at his own concert, paused, for your own benefit. It wasn’t long that you shared this space with him, as he jumped back onto the stage, throwing one long limb up behind the other back to help him get back to his position.

“You’re staying here forever, with us!” he jokes, but there was something to his voice. It seemed odd that he seemed to help for such a short amount of time, even at all. But it was understandable, he had a show to run, and you were just attending said show.

As Noah paced to the side of the stage, he was swinging a small trinket in his hands, curling his long fingers and then catching it again in the palm of his hand. The familiar glint of one of your keychains sparkled in the red lights shining down on them as they were tossed in Noah’s hands, spinning your car keys tauntingly in front of you. Unbeknownst to you, Noah had helped, he had found your keys, and then, being the pesky prankster he was, had stolen them right from you.

“I took your keys! It was me” he admits, finally dangling them and then tossing them to a crew member side of stage in one fell swoop. It took you longer than you would like to admit to closing your mouth after it hung ajar with shock, and Noah laughed to himself at your reaction. Bewildered, and honestly shocked at what had just happened, Noah couldn’t seem to wipe his shit-eating grin off his face. He was proud of himself, but you? Honestly, like, come on dude, those are your keys, you really need those. How were you going to get them back? Who even had them? What if you really can’t get them back? Questions circled your mind as the world around you continued to move on.

“Alright, so anyway…” Noah moved on, giving instructions to the crowd on how he wanted them to interact with the following song, to which they of course obliged. You on the other hand were still so perplexed, that honestly, it made it difficult to focus on what was happening. Despite this occurring, the rest of the night continued smoothly, no more disruptions from crowd-members misplacing their shit, and the band performed an incredible show regardless of your confused state that slowly lifted the further on in the show you got.

By the time the show came to an end, the encore had played out, and the band was waving their goodbyes, it came to your attention that you really needed to do something now about getting those keys back. But before you got their attention, all four members of Bad Omens were walking away from you with their backs turned in your direction. You called out again, leaning half of your body over the barricade, but to no avail. Defeated, your face falls into your hands, elbows propped up on the cool metal in front of you.

What now? Do you call a cab? Did you even still have your phone, or was that lost too? More and more questions circled your head, making you feel dizzy and overwhelmed. The strangers who neighbored you in the crowd asked if you needed help, but you thanked them and sent them on their way. This was your mess, plus, your other friends were here somewhere too, so surely they could help you out instead. You turn now, leaning back against the barricade, and start scanning your eyes at the emptying venue. A small tap on your shoulder brings you out of your concentration and makes you jump a little. With your head whipping around, you saw it was someone unfamiliar, but obviously a person with the credentials that allowed them to be on the other side of the metal barrier.

“You the one who lost their keys?” he asks, a quizzical look on his face, voice slightly louder than the background music now echoing in the venue.

“Yeah, that's me. Although I think it’s more like having my keys stolen” you retort with a laugh and a little disbelief still. The man opposite you laughs at the remark and looks off to the side.

“Look, if you’re quick to jump over, you can come get them. I think I know who took them and they’re around the back.” His hand motions to the side of the room towards the end of the stage, and there is a clear, small opening that you could fit past. Disregarding any ‘stranger danger’ knowledge from growing up, you trust this man and slip past the barricade, feeling a little out of place after being home in the crowd for the majority of the night.

“I’m Miles, it’s nice to meet you. Did you have a good time?” he asks as you start to follow him around the side of the stage, clearly trying to entertain you with small talk and ease your obvious nerves just a little. You answer him, including by introducing yourself and explaining the pickle that the key-stealing-fiasco has put you in. He seemed genuine, sharing stories of other pranks he had seen the band pull off, but did apologize after knowing that it made you feel worried during the show.

Your concern starts to grow the longer you follow this man, despite his tales of being the band's manager, and sharing some of their antics. You tell him about the lead up to today, and how long you had been waiting for this show to be announced, to which he apologized again, explaining some conflict they had with touring schedules and whatnot. It all seemed pretty genuine, but it was distracting to the point where you had no idea where you were now amongst the maze of hallways and doors. Even though the anxiety started to dissipate, the curiosity is what was growing to take its place.

You round one more corner, following the stranger blindly, and are met with a room with a low ceiling, black walls, and the hum of the fluorescent lights above you. Not only that, but there were people here too. Many people. Maybe 10 bodies in this room, make you suddenly aware that the air was thick with sweat and the antiperspirant trying to hide the same smell. Most of the people in front of you had their backs to the door you just entered from, engaged in a conversation they all seemed too excited to be a part of.

“Noah! Care to return the keys you stole?” Miles calls out, and you felt like a little kid hiding behind their mother with the way you stood behind him. With his call out, most of the bodies turned and looked in your direction, to Miles, and all looked shocked at his sudden interjection. Although he used a lighthearted tone, and you didn’t even say anything, it still felt like you were overstepping.

“Key girl!” You hear being called in a familiar voice. “Yes! Let me find them…” the figure continued, coming from the back of the crowd, followed by the sound of rummaging. About a minute ticked by when he started walking through the crowd, a head taller than the others around him. Noah Sebastian, the same vocalist from the band you just saw was right in front of you, a smile sheepishly adorned on his face as he may you at the door frame.

“I swear they were just here” he says guiltily, with eyes darting from yours to then back at the room he was standing in.

The tightening in your chest felt so unnatural, but it was intimidating seeing him this close, in person, and without the veil of a performance in between the two of you. Your eyes are looking into his warm gaze, and although as annoying as it was to lose your items, this was something you never expected it to come to.

He looks away as he pulls out his phone, promptly making a call whilst looking back over his shoulder.

“Hey! Those keys I threw at you during the show, where did they go? I could have sworn I saw them in the green room…” he trails off to the unknown contact, followed by some “Mmhmm”’s. He looks at you again, meeting your eyes, making a guilty expression and biting down on his lip.

“I see, would it be okay if someone brought them back here? They’re ready to be collected” he states, and you may have been mistaken but was that a wink at you?

He ended the conversation, stating “they’re on their way”, and then stood to the side of the door. “Please come sit down, it’s the least I could do” he pleads, motioning with his arm for you to enter the room.

Your throat was tight and you could feel the awkward heat starting to flush your cheeks as you stood there a little embarrassed. How could you say no?

“Thanks for finding them for me anyway” you state, walking past him and trying your best to swallow the ever-growing lump in your throat.

“I mean, I’m sorry that I took them. I just thought it would be a funny bit. And then I completely forgot about it” he said sheepishly. He followed you into the room, taking a drink from the mini fridge and offering you a bottle.

“Drink while you wait?” He asks, as though he is trying his best to be a good host.

You take the bottle in your hand, while pulling over one of the black plastic chairs to sit down on, as other members of the band started to do the same next to you.

“Honestly, I had no idea what he was doing,” Nick Folio called from behind him in between gulps from his water bottle. He then leans forward and holds out a hand to you. “I’m Nick '' he says with a wide grin. You shake his hand and then twist the cap off your own drink as you reply with your name.

“Neither did I” Jolly joined in, “I thought he was just pretending” he joked as he leant up against the table.

“I see what you did there!” Nick Rufilo said, pointing at him and smirking at the joke you were sure they had heard thousands of times before, also sitting down in the social-circle that was starting to form.

You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction, and a warmth swelled in your heart as you glanced at Noah, who was sitting opposite you on a lounge against the wall, and who had a smile spread across his face as he watched the banter between his bandmates. It almost felt intrusive that you got to share this moment with them, it seemed intimate in a way that only close friends got to see this side of them. This band was largely a mystery, keeping to themselves and presenting as a theatrical showcase spectacle when on the stage.

“Thanks again for your help” you say sheepishly, in an attempt to continue the conversation. “I think it would still be looking for them if you hadn’t grabbed them. That, or they’d be crushed”.

“Yeah, that crowd looked fun! Was it rough? I kind of miss those days'' Jolly asked, curious to know how the show was from the other side.

“It was crazy, but everyone loved it. Honestly, the show is fantastic. What kind of things go into organizing that kind of performance?” You ask, half being polite, half being nosey.

“It’s a lot of trust in the right people” Noah stated, looking over at some of the crew who had just joined you.

“And having a perfectionist of a vocalist overseeing every detail that goes into the show” Rufilo remarks, teasing his band mate.

“So I want to give people the best show of their lives! Sue me!” Noah flails his arms and slumps back into the lounge.

The conversation continues, branching off into music influences, tales from the road of touring, and embarrassing stories from the group that probably shouldn’t have been told to you.

It had been some time, and the keys were still not located. It was something that still was on your mind, but you weren’t upset at how long this was taking. Your drink was empty, so you absentmindedly played with the bottle in your hands as you listened attentively as Folio shared a fond memory from earlier on in the tour.

Noah noticed your toying of the bottle, and stood up to walk towards you.

“Care for another?” He asked, whilst holding his hand out to take the empty.

“Thank you, but maybe not. Still need to drive, remember?” You answer with a stifled laugh.

“Oh shit, that’s right. The whole reason you’re here. Where did he go…” his whole demeanor changes from a relaxed, cool being, to a more frantic and concerned expression.

He strides over to the table Jolly was now sitting atop, picking up items of clothing and shifting bottles around in an attempt to find your keys.

“Noah!” Someone called, to which he spun around to, flinching at the sudden sight of keys being tossed in his direction. With a quick response, he catches them in one hand, smiling at the effort.

“Keys secured!” He calls, looking in your direction with a gleeful smile. He walks over to you, once again brushing his hair back with his hand, and holds them out to you.

As you look down at them in the palm of his outstretched hand, it’s almost like they taunted you like they did earlier in the night with the way the light bounced off of the metal. You reach out and take them from him, trying to be polite but also suddenly aware of the closeness between you two.

“Did you park far from here?” He asks in a quiet tone, the softest you’ve heard him all night.

“It’s only about a 5 minute walk. Thanks for the hospitality, it’s been nice talking” you reply, looking up at him, very aware of the height advantage he had over you.

“I’ll walk you to your car, can’t have you be murdered after what a great night it’s been” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the sides as he looked over his shoulder. “Be back soon, just making sure key girl doesn’t get murdered!” He calls out to the room, referring to you by your new nickname amongst the group. An earlier conversation had made it stick, after Rufilo mentioned it sounded like it had a James Bond-esque vibe to it.

“Don’t kill her yourself, Noah!” Folio calls back with a humorous tone. “But really, don’t. I can’t be bothered going through getting a new vocalist when you get your ass in jail” he continued, face dead-pan.

“Shut up,” Noah replied, rolling his eyes.

You wave to the room, thank them again, and then turn to walk out, Noah closely following.

“You really don’t need to do this. It’s not far” you argue.

“No, it’s okay. It’s nice to get some fresh air” he mentions as you find one of the doors leading out behind the venue.

There was a small crowd of people loitering off to the side, oblivious to your presence. Noah sees it, and hesitates to walk forward. You catch on to this, then also see the group.

“You can go inside if you don’t want to see them” you offer.

“No, it’s not them, I’ll come out when I get back to talk to that group. It’s just… maybe we go the other way? Otherwise we will be there all night” He asks, tucking his hands into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Of course, it’s not that much longer” you reply, turning and starting to walk with Noah down the street, in the opposite direction.

As he walks, he pulls the hood up on his head, keeping him protected from the cool night. You, on the other hand, notice the goosebumps rising and a shiver starting to happen. Trying your best to mask this, you try to talk as a distraction.

“What’s it like?” You ask suddenly, trying to hide the chatter of your teeth. Noah looks at you, frowning slightly as he doesn’t really know what you’re asking.

“You know, the fame, the touring, the music… all of it. What’s it like?”

“I really can’t complain. I’ve wanted this forever, and we’ve all worked our asses off for this” he smiles as he looks at his feet walking next to you. “That’s not to say it has its hard days though” he continues, this time looking over at you.

You respond with an understanding head nod, despite not even understanding a little bit. “What are those harder days like?”

Noah thinks for a moment, scrunching his nose and bobbing his head side to side as he tries to find the right words, eyes lifting to scan the sky for an answer. “It’s frustrating” he lands on. “It’s like… you know what needs to be done, but there’s some force stopping it from happening.”

“Do you mean when it comes t-to music?” You chatter back.

Noah glances at you again, looking away from the stars, and down to meet your gaze up at him. He saw the way your arms were crossed tightly over your body, and the rigid way you were standing. Without speaking, he stops in his tracks and yanks his hoodie from behind his head. It slips up his back and over his arms, tugging up his black t-shirt underneath just a little, making the coloured tattoos decorating his torso exposed to the night air. You couldn’t help but watch as his long arms tower upwards, graceful even in the most mundane of things.

Whilst you were still a little hypnotized, he yanks the hoodie off his head, and without warning slips it over your head. The warmth was immediate, the residual body heat from Noah made it feel like a blanket of warmth wrapped around you. The sudden change in temperature took you off guard, as well as the encapsulating fabric restricting your arms.

Noah laughed at your reaction, looking down at the black hoodie you now adorned, large red letters of ‘OMENS’ printed on the front, and the sleeves hanging idly at your sides. It was so long on you, like a dress wearing you instead of you wearing it. You couldn’t help but laugh at the size of it.

“Looks good on you.”

“What size even is this? How long are you?” You ask without even thinking, and then laugh again at the sound of your absurd question. Long?

Noah was laughing too, now with his arms open to the air you could really see the details and color in the illustrations that covered them, right up to his neck. His hair was now ruffled, a mess with strands standing every which way, showing the undercut of his hairstyle.

You were a little entranced looking up at him, both of you standing still and stifling your giggles like a couple of school girls.

“You seem different in person,” you blurt out. “I mean, different to when you were on stage” you state, not sure if this was crossing some kind of unknown boundary.

Noah thought for a moment, a smile dwindling but still upturned. “I guess I don’t need to play this… character… when not on stage” he responds, tattooed fingers coming up to imitate air quotes to emphasize his words. He thinks about what he says next. “I just don’t want anyone to be disappointed when they come to see us play” he remarked, now looking down at his feet, hands going into the pockets of his black pants.

“I really don’t think anyone would ever be disappointed” you reply, with an undertone of confidence. Noah sighs and smiles in response.

“I’m serious!” You call, slipping your arms into the oversized sleeves and playfully whacking him with the extra material hanging from you.

Noah turns his body, bracing for the light impact, and laughing at the futile attempt to seem demanding. It helped to lighten the mood a little, as you were worried you’d stepped into a personal space he wouldn’t feel comfortable in.

The two of you look ahead, down the dark street, and then start walking again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry” you state.

“Not prying, don’t apologize.” Noah shook his head and looked down at you again. Every time he did this it made you forget how to breathe. Seeing him this close made you appreciate all the little things you never noticed about him. The marks from piercings from a past life, freckles that dotted the side of his face, even to the uneven stubble that was starting to grow on his jaw. Up close, he was normal, not this enigmatic figure performing. He was himself, vulnerable and insightful.

It made you think about what he was like all the time, if he was serious, if the goofy side ever came out, or if he was quiet and content like now. Maybe a mix of everything? It was astounding to see him so comfortable already with someone he just met, a stranger, and a fan at that.

“Do you often escort your fans back to their cars after shows?” You question, bringing your own thoughts to words.

He laughed breathily before answering. “Not particularly. I’ll usually go out and meet some people after the show once we’ve calmed down. But I can’t say that this is a… common occurrence” he enunciated the last few words in his sentence. It sounded like he was avoiding the lisp that snuck through earlier on in the conversation. “I like to be able to meet people. Thank them. Talk to them like normal humans talk” he explained. “I feel like I can make a real connection with them that way.”

“That makes sense,” you reply.

He continued to tell you stories that involved interacting with fans, and then drifted into interactions with other bands. He told you of his fondest memories while on a festival lineup in the UK. He met an idol of his, and being able to talk to them was something he’ll never forget. The way his eyes lit up when he was talking about this made you smile and it seemed genuine as though he was catching up with an old friend.

“Thanks for being cool with my little prank,” he changed the topic. “Actually, thanks for just being cool in general. It’s been nice to talk to someone new like this. I haven’t done it in a long time. It’s hard to meet new people who have good intentions.”

It took you by surprise how he spoke about you. “I think this is going to be a good story to tell” you reply, also trying to think of a way to say you’re grateful for it because you got to spend this time with him.

You could see your car in the distance, safely parked exactly where you had left it. The walk had taken you longer than expected, but neither of you were rushing to make it end anytime soon. Noah seemed to be the one slowing down the pace, regardless of his lack of warm hoodie.

With the last few steps up to your car door, you come to a halt. “This is me” you point to your car. Nothing too flashy, but not something to brag about.

“Nice wheels” Noah eyes your car. “I like how round all 4 of them are,” he says through a laugh.

You laugh too, looking at the car, and then back to him. “Thank you. This has been really special.”

He goes shy again, looking at his feet while scuffing up some of the grass. “Can I ask a dumb question?”

Your mind jumps to the hoodie you still wore, the smell of him enveloping you as a reminder that it was not yours. “Oh, sorry” you state, hands gripping the hem to lift above your head and give back to him.

“No no no, not that,” he catches the hoodie in your hands, “keep the hoodie, I have so many.” his hands let go after pulling it back down over your head.

“If there's anything I can do in return, please say so Noah” you respond, feeling like you were in his debt. Not only did he give you a great performance, he helped find your keys, gave you his drinks, entertained you with wonderful conversation, walked you to your car, and then even gave you the clothes off his back.

“I really don’t want you to think less of me because of this” he said, a hand rising to rub the back of his neck. He was still avoiding eye contact and looking at the ground. It started to make you think you did something wrong.

“Noah, I’m sorry if I ruined your night” you admit, guilt starting to make your stomach do flips inside you. In a flash his eyes were on you.

“No, you didn’t ruin my night, promise! I… I was just going to ask for your number.”

Number? Phone number? You stood there stunned.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I look like a creep now and I-”

“Of course you can,” you finally answer, understanding why he was so shy and hesitant before. It wasn’t every day that he would ask for this, and it's a big risk coming from him.

He pulls the phone from his back pocket, opening his contacts and then passes it over to you. Your heart was thumping inside your chest like it was trying to break free as you typed in your digits, adding the contact under ‘key girl’. You hand it back to him, looking up at his face. A smile spreads across as he reads the name, letting out a huff of a laugh.

“Will you be back in this part of town any time soon?” you ask, trying your best to hide the bundle of nerves and excitement brewing.

“We’re heading to the next show tomorrow, but coming back this way on our way home.”

“Well, if you need someone to show you around, take you on a personal tour, I know someone with a car with 4 nice round wheels, and a good story about how she lost her keys at a concert once, that could help you.”

“I think I will take you up on that” he replied through a smile. You couldn't help but smile back. The two of you stood there for a moment, relishing in what had just happened.

“I think I should-”

“Yeah, you should go. It’s been a big night” Noah interrupts. You click at the button on your keys, the light flashing behind you in response.

“Thank you Noah, for tonight. And the hoodie, of course.” You step into your car, looking up at him once more.

“It’s been my pleasure, honestly.” He closes the door and watches as you fasten your seatbelt and start to pull away, waving a long arm in the air gently as you do the same back to him.

As you drove, the figure of Noah started to disappear into the veil of darkness that was night. You could barely see him begin to walk back towards the venue and back to his normal nightly routine after a show. Your mind spirals into a replay of the events that have happened tonight, and that led you to driving away from what seemed like a fantasy.

The drive home wasn’t too long, and it seemed to fly by the time you pulled up in your own driveway. Still processing, the key to the door unlocks easily and you walk in, heading straight for bed. Sitting on the edge of the soft blanket-covered mattress, you pull out your phone for the first time tonight, flicking off the ‘do not disturb’ feature, and scrolling through the flood of messages and missed call alerts from your friends. You laugh at some of the remarks made in the group chat, knowing full well they had no clue what had occurred. Some joked about running away and joining the band, others were betting that your phone was lost.

After a quick message to them all letting them know you are alive, a contentedness starts to fall over you. Did all of that really just happen, or are you just taking part of some kind of dream? As you ask yourself this, a light buzz comes from your phone, alerting you of a new message. It came from a number not saved previously.

Hope you got home okay. Thanks for giving me a story to tell too. Will definitely hit you up for that personal driving tour - Noah

You stare at your screen, looking at the words he chose to use. You tried not to read too much into it, but there was a spark that threatened to roar into a fire inside of you that made you believe he could actually want to see you again. Before getting too ahead of yourself, you type out your reply.

Home safe and ready for bed. Thanks for being my key savior. You hit send, but quickly see a response.

Happy to offer my assistance. Next time I promise not to steal any of your belongings.

Next time? You sure hope to god there is indeed a next time.

Part 2

#bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #bad omens fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #noah sebastian fan fiction #bad omens fic #bad omens fan fics #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fic

[yesimwriting]

Sick Day

Set in the Final Girl universe, but it is a stand alone fic that can easily be read with no context :)

Summary: Billy and Stu don’t get why they’re so antsy about the latest addition to their friend group being absent from school. Sure, they talk about her more than they talk about anyone else, but not seeing her for one day isn’t enough to justify panic, right? Guess that doesn’t matter, because they find a way to justify checking in anyways.

a/n if you haven’t read final girl and this makes you curious,, the main fic and extras can be found here: Final Girl Series 

fun fact, this is chronologically set at some point after ‘first impressions’ but before the main series, if you haven’t read either that’s fine, it’ll still make sense, i just like building “lore” lol 

also if there are any typos i’m sorry, i’m stuck wearing a wrist brace for a little while, especially while writing

also this was really fun to write so i might do some more mini fics in the final girl universe in between full chapters, it’s more low stakes and is a good way for me to work on adding to their dynamics,, so if you have any ideas/requests for final girl universe specific stuff pls feel free to ask! 

----

It didn’t take Billy long to realize that part of your appeal comes from the fact that you’re not as predictable as everyone else. Maybe it’s because you’re still new, but that’s easy in Woodsboro, where lifelong friendships are practically assigned by the locker you’re given on your first d of middle school.

You’re also a contradiction. Almost everything you’re feeling is visible on your face, but what you’re thinking isn’t as easy to guess. It balances you out, keeping you from being unknown enough to be threatening but still letting you pop enough to keep you from blurring into the background. 

That’s part of the reason he picked up on your routine so quickly. What he knows about you isn’t as concrete as what he has on the people that are a part of his plan, but he knows enough. More than he intended to. He memorized your classes without meaning to and knows the time you get to school and the approximate time you leave. It’s useful, he tells himself, you’re around Sidney and Tatum all the time and him and Stu are still working on fitting you into the plan.

Sure, they’ve decided that you fit as their potential final girl, but it’s rocky. You bring out something panicky in him and some days it’s too much to be around you and know you have the ability to affect him. It’s not the same, not at all, but Billy can’t help the way it reminds him of what his mom’s distance used to make him feel. At risk. And Billy knows Stu, knows that he probably thinks about you twice as much as he brings you up and that there’s such a thing as Stu liking someone too much. 

When there’s uncertainty, it’s easy to fall back on routine, and you stick to a relatively simple one. You get to school riding close to late more often than not, during your study hall you tend to study outside unless Randy doesn’t use it as an excuse to leave early, then you bother him in the library (something Billy doesn’t get), and you take a little longer at your locker at the end of the day. Billy also knows you’re not one to skip. 

You’re never not at school (which may or may not have lead to an increase in the regularity of Stu and Billy’s attendance). You’re too hyper focused on your grades to not show up without a reason. So when Billy passes by your locker right before the home room bell rings and you’re not there it’s weird.

Billy knows you really must not be here when his eyes land on Stu, who’s staring at your locker. Stu walks you to most of your classes and always walks you to homeroom. 

“She’s not here,” Billy summarizes flatly. 

Stu turns his head, a little unsure. “Or she went to class without me.” 

The jab would be subtle to anyone else, but Billy knows what Stu’s getting at. “She’d still be at her locker, she’s always running late in the morning.” Billy focuses on hearing his words, tries to feel them. “We can check her homeroom.” 

A casual enough suggestion. Still not overly concerned. Stu has to walk past your classroom to get to his anyways and Billy takes that route sometimes. With that justification, the two walk down the hall and peak through the door’s long window as un-notably as possible. You’re not in your usual spot, at the desk right behind Casey Becker, who you talk to from time to time (a potential future problem they’re both aware of).

By lunch, it’s confirmed that you never showed up. You’re not in the first period you have with Stu or the third period you have with Sidney and Billy. Tatum brings it up first. Where’s Y/n? Sidney shrugged and mumbled about how you weren’t in second period today. It only took a minute for the girls and Randy to brush over your absence with a simple she must be sick. 

That got under Billy’s skin a little and he couldn’t figure out why. You’re almost weirdly into the whole school thing--everyone here could likely list your top 3 colleges--and stubborn. Even if you’re only absent because you’re sick, you must be pretty knocked out to not be here. But why should he care about you being really sick or your friends being relatively dismissive? 

“Isn’t she a little...Annie Wilkes about school?” Stu’s question comes out casually enough.

Randy looks up, “She’s not that bad.”

Stu blinks, forcing himself to stay in the moment. Randy was quick to defend you even though Stu’s seen him call you worse to your face. Maybe that back and forth is a sad attempt at flirting. “Easy, no one’s saying anything bad about your girlfriend.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend.” 

“Knock it off, Stu, they’re basically related,” Billy forces the words out as casually as he can manage.

Sidney picks up on the joke, mumbling some comment about how they do sort of act like siblings, which gets Tatum off on some tangent about her brother. The conversation doesn’t circle back to the person that’s missing.

In the english class you share with Billy and Stu, the teacher hands back an old essay and gives out a homework packet. The two of them exchange a look. That’s a good enough excuse to stop by your house...if they...wanted to, which they don’t because it’s not like your absence is that relevant.

Billy talks to the teacher after class anyways, saying that he could make sure you get the graded essay and homework. You’re friendly enough that he’s sure he’ll be able to get it to you before you come to class and it’s never a bad idea to have options. Stu doesn’t say anything when Billy gets the papers and neatly places them in a folder. 

----

There’s all this energy and there’s no real outlet for it. Stu doesn’t know what it is, he can’t tell what he wants to do with it or what’d make it feel better. He’s felt versions of it all day, having it drop and morph into an off-brand version of that dark, craving feeling he gets at the thought of feeling a knife plunge into someone and rise back up to an antsy-ness that’d better fit a kid in line for a ride at a theme park.

The energy reaches its peak on the front steps of your porch, but the feeling doesn’t settle on a particular charge. It remains focused on the more positive side of the spectrum, but it’s undercut by some of the urgency of the other urge. 

He had been the first one to bring it up after school, when Billy and him were finally alone. It had started relatively detached, things are still weird when they mention you outside of certain contexts. They’re so used to being open about other things that the fact that they’re both almost shy about something--someone--is twisting. It’s a feeling they’re still learning to take in larger doses. 

They had spent a little too long trying to find an angle to justify a pop in to themselves. It’s one thing to think about you, to talk about you, to like you even. But it’s something else entirely to openly care. To worry about why you’re missing school or if you’re sick. 

Eventually, want won and Billy finally said something that stuck. She can’t be a final girl if she’s dying, and we need her to trust us, to like us. 

This is stupid. A flaring feeling in Billy’s chest has been yelling at him to stop since the idea first formed his mind. It’s a distorted echo of his father’s voice. 

Billy swallows once, forcing himself to finally knock. The only thing more pathetic than what he’s doing is lingering, coming here and then turning back. 

The seconds pass and with each of them, they both feel worse about their decision. And then they hear the lock click and the front door opens and they see you. 

You look more tired than usual and the blanket that’s practically swallowing you whole makes you seem smaller, more vulnerable even though you’re more covered than usual. You squint at the sunlight in a way that makes them think you’ve spent the day in intentionally dimly lit spaces. It takes you a second, but once you finally register them, it’s visible. You’re grinning, practically beaming. 

Billy feels the reaction in his chest. It strains uneasily beneath his ribs, not much unlike what he imagines a heart palpitation could feel like. He briefly thinks he might be able to hold the discomfort against you, but even that thought mostly fades. 

Stu’s flooded with the strange desire to wrap you up in bundles of blankets the way that his mom used to when he was younger. The few times it happened, it was weirdly comforting. He can’t remember the last time she took the time to make sure he was warm until his fever broke, but he knows his dad put a stop to it at an early age. Too needy, too dependent.

“Hi?” It’s partially a question, and your voice hints at raspiness. 

Snapping back into reality, Billy answers, “You weren’t at school.” Your eyebrows draw together and Billy realizes that that wasn’t the easy reaction he thought it’d be. It’s too open and implies concern. 

“Yeah, I kinda have a cold-fever-something. It’s a bug my mom brought home from work. I thought she was being dramatic, but it totally knocked me out.” You lean against your front door. If you sense either of their conflicts, you give no indication of it. “Karma, I guess.” 

Stu lets out a laugh at that. “Karma? You were that mean?” 

Your lips pull into an almost-smile. “The universe seemed to think so.” 

“You think the universe gave you a punishment cold, but your mom’s the dramatic one?” Stu’s biting down a grin, all concerns about showing up melting. 

You glare halfheartedly, “You can’t be not-on-my-side when I’m sick. That’s like...against friend...rules.” Your eyebrows draw together. “That was--that was really lame, forget I said that.” 

The reaction is so warm and you’re doing your best even though you’re clearly still not feeling well and Billy feels an awful swell of what’s likely fondness. “Not sure I want to.” 

Rolling your eyes, you relax even more of your weight against the doorframe. The shift is small, but Billy can’t help but note it. Are you just being casual or are you that tired? “You’re both here to cause problems.” 

“We’re here to be nice.” The look on your face says you might be a little out of it but you haven’t lost IQ points. “We got our essays back and some homework. Billy picked up yours and I drove him to school, and because one day felt way too long to go without seeing you...”

Your laugh is punctuated by a brief cough you burry into your elbow. It’s not like you’re coughing up a lung, but it is a little concerning. “You guys grabbed my stuff?” 

The genuine surprise in your voice sticks out. “Yeah,” Billy slides his backpack off of his shoulders and starts unzipping it, “One of those friend rules.” 

Billy finds his folder as you roll your eyes. “Funny.” 

“It’s what I’m known for,” he keeps his voice flat, and the sarcasm feels a little off, but you smile and that makes it a little easier.

He hands you the papers, his fingertips brushing against yours. “I see why.” 

“I never get that many gold stars.” Stu leans forward, re-reading some of the notes scribbled on next to your grade. “Maybe you should invite me over, tutor me...”

Your nose wrinkles. “Shut up.” By now they’ve learned that that’s the closest you’ll come to retreating.

Stu exaggerates a frown, “What? Bringing you your stuff doesn’t get us invited in?” 

The redirect is a bit of a stretch, but you’re used to the jumps and you’re tired enough to not read much into it. Not as much as Billy does, who’s a little surprised because he and Stu never talked about what they’d do after. He decides that it’s harmless enough. 

Turning your head a little, it almost feels like a part of you forgot there was anything to be invited into. “I don’t want to get you guys sick.” 

It’s such a you response. Always considerate, polite. Billy looks past you and into the house. There’s no noise indicating that anyone’s in there, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re alone. Though the one time he came over to work on a project, he briefly met your mother and was given the impression that she likes making her presence alone. There’s also your mother’s boyfriend, who wasn’t around when Billy came over but based on your comments, he’s not sure being alone with him isn’t worse than being alone. 

“Are you okay?” The question comes out of Billy a little unexpectedly. “You don’t look too...” 

You glare. “Thanks.”

“Not like--” Billy cuts himself off with a sigh. Your eyebrows pinch together briefly. “You look too sick to be alone. At least say your mom’s here.” 

Billy takes in the details of your reaction even though he already has a good idea on what you lying looks like. Harmless, white lies often used to seem more okay with things than you actually are. He sees something similar in the way your chin tilts upwards slightly. “I’m fine.” 

That’s all the confirmation Billy needs. You’re definitely alone. The lack of lie and attempt at dismissal is oddly endearing, especially while you’re like this, leaning against the front door and squeezing your blanket a little tighter. Wait--are you colder? It’s warm out today and there’s not even a breeze. 

A half thought embeds itself beneath Billy’s skin. He gives in, extending an arm slowly. You’re just as confused until Billy’s turning his hand so that the back of his palm is facing you. “I’m--Billy, it’s--” 

The cutoff of your words is sudden, your lips still partially parted, some other jumble of words dying in the back of your throat as Billy’s hand meets your forehead. You don’t move away. It’s been a few seconds, definitely long enough for Billy to have deduced whether or not you have a fever. How did his mom use to do this? 

He takes his time dropping his arm back to his side. Billy doesn’t have too many references to what a fever feels like on someone else, but you did feel warm. “You have a fever.” 

You press your lips together briefly in a forced pout. “You’re worse than my mom.” The blanket is slipping off of your shoulders, you tug it back up. “I’ll take some Tylenol, find a jar of vapor rub.” Angling your head to glance behind you again, you’re returning to that awkward uncertainty. 

The small dismissal digs at them both. It’s bad enough that they let themselves get to this point over one absence and here you are, alone and unwell and completely okay with sending them away. “You sure you’re good here?” 

This time you’re considering it. The proof of the deliberation is there in your silence. More often than not it takes you two or three offers to accept anything you think is an inconvenience. You’re nice to a point of fault. “I’m okay, because no one dies of fever, but if hanging out for a little and seeing absolutely nothing happen to me makes you guys feel better, that’d be cool. But you need to be careful.”

Stu grins, “I thought no one dies of a fever.” 

You take a step back, offering some space for them to pass, “I hope you get this, I think you could use a karma cold.” 

“Now I see why you have one,” Stu mumbles, pretending to be more annoyed than he feels as he steps into your house as you turn your head to stick your tongue out at him. 

Billy follows, lingering in your doorway before shutting your front door. You’re approaching the kitchen, turning your head to look Billy in the eye, “What do you think? Stu deserve one?” 

He briefly pretends to debate, “Worse.” 

You laugh at the irritated sound Stu lets out at the back of his throat. “Do you guys want anything?” They swear they’re fine as you pour yourself a glass of water and use it to down two tylonel tablets. “If my mom gets back from work and thinks I haven’t offered you guys anything to eat or drink, I’m not hearing the end of it.” 

“We’ll defend you.” Stu rests his weight against the kitchen counter, noting the bottle of cough syrup still out. “You need this?” 

You shake your head immediately. “I took some earlier and still feel foggy. I slept most of today.” 

Stu runs his thumb over the white cap, watching it spin without coming off. He considers pushing. Billy changes the subject before Stu has fully made up his mind, “You would be the type to have the most boring sick day.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You’re offended, and it’s oddly soft. “I didn’t just sleep.” 

Billy’s amused enough to press, “What else did you do?” 

“I think I know...” There’s a smugness in Stu’s voice that instantly floods you with embarrassment. Oh no. He’s found them. You snap your head up in time to see Stu holding up some of the tapes you left stacked on the counter. “Beverly Hills 90210, the first four seasons.” 

Billy looks right past you and focuses on Stu. “Only four?” 

“Uh--” You’re caught. “Five’s on right now...and I don’t have a copy of six.” They’re both too quiet, fighting the urge to burst into laughter. “Don’t judge. Trashy teen soaps are popular for a reason.” 

“What about artistic integrity?” 

You dismiss Billy’s question with a scoff that’s a hint too raspy. “Cheap writing in Hollywood isn’t my fault.” 

Instead of returning with another joke (maybe some comment about what Randy would say if he ever found out), Billy pushes himself off of the wall he was leaning against and approaches your refrigerator. 

Billy knows he’s at least heard of the usual home remedies, but he can’t quite place them. Won’t place them because the only person that ever worried about these kinds of things isn’t someone Billy’s willing to think about right now. 

Starve a fever or maybe that’s colds. There’s also...electrolytes? And hydration. That’s probably the best idea. Why does it matter? That thought bothers him, digs under his skin and settles at a wrong angle. He’s seen you. You’re alive, unscathed, and relatively fine. It’s not like any of the bad thoughts were proven right--you weren’t skipping for some other person or leaving.

But you’re uncomfortable. And alone. And vulnerable. Billy hates it. Hates that his awareness of your feelings is lodging itself in his mind and that he can’t really help and that it matters. He’s not sure he remembers the last time anyone besides Stu’s feelings actually mattered. Maybe Sidney’s did once, awhile ago, but that--that didn’t feel nearly as urgent as this.

“You okay?” Your voice snaps him back to the moment, to the glass of water he was getting. “You’re kind of staring at that glass like it knows something it shouldn’t.” 

You drop your voice a little, chin tilting down as you try to be funny. The humor is real enough that Billy doesn’t feel overly pushed, but he does note the thinly veiled genuineness in your words. That’s another thing about you. You say things and you mean them. Even if it’s completely casual, even if it’s a sentiment you’ll forget about immediately until it comes up again. You mean it. 

Billy sets the freshly filled glass on the counter, “Drink more water, your voice sounds like it could be used by a horror movie villain.” 

You frown like Billy’s offended you beyond repair. Just as he thinks you might protest, you pick up the glass and down a fair amount in a few gulps. “Happy?” 

“Oh, he’s thrilled,” Stu hums, “That’s what he looks like when he’s happy.” 

“I think I believe you.” Billy waits until your attention is fully on Stu before letting himself give in and smile a little. 

Stu takes a step towards you, “I’d never lie to you, baby.” He ignores the slight face you make at the nickname. Being sick must make you more irritable because you’ve let much more creative nicknames slide. Stu cups your face between his hands before you can protest. You don’t move or try to shake him off. He takes a second to exaggeratedly feel your skin. “You’re as hot as you look and that’s saying something.” 

“I’m wearing Christmas pajama pants that I got in 8th grade and I spent half the morning on the bathroom floor. No one could find this look attractive.” Stu half shrugs, protests already building, but you snap back to reality before he can get them out. “And if I’m that hot,” you step back, using your hands to pry him off of you, “You shouldn’t be touching me.”

He takes a step towards you. “My immune system’s strong.” Stu briefly flexes an arm, “You think all this could be supported by a weak one?” 

You half smile, giving Stu the opportunity he needs to place his hands on the soft blanket still on your shoulder’s. Again, he’s pleasantly surprised when you don’t brush him off. “You’re gonna get sick.”

Stu rubs a hand up and down your left shoulder, hoping the gesture comes off as light and comforting. “I’ll be fine.” 

Nothing about Stu has given you the indication that he’d be a tolerable sick person. Also, a small part of you is worried a cold like this could really take him out. He rarely dresses warm enough and you’ve seen the amount of energy drinks he’s willing to consume on one day. You’re also not sure you’ve ever seen him eat anything with significant nutritional value. “Every day I find out you’ve managed to keep yourself alive, I’m pleasantly surprised.” 

He squeezes your shoulder. “You’re cranky when you’re sick.” 

“At least she said pleasantly.” 

Stu looks past you to throw a dirty look in Billy’s direction. “Aw, he’s jealous of what we have.” 

Okay--you might be drowsy but you know where the play fighting over you goes. It starts off lighthearted enough, but if you’re not careful it can end kind of sour. One second everyone’s joking and the next Stu’s actually pushing you to pick a side on something that should be harmless but feels heavy. Sometimes Billy gets a little more involved than you think he wants to seem and it never feels fully about you. It’s like half of what they say means something else to them. 

“Okay, no fighting over me,” you shrug Stu off as best you can without losing your blanket, “I belong to this blanket and the couch.” 

You grab your cup of water off the counter and start walking to the living room without checking if they’re following. You hear their footsteps, but pay little mind to that as you settle on the couch and set your glass on the coffee table. 

Billy sits down next to you. “Couch and not your room?” 

Reluctantly sighing, you drop your head back, letting your neck rest at an awkward angle. "I live here now.” 

He can’t tell how much of that is a joke. Are you feeling that sick? “Right.” 

Your attention briefly flickers to the TV, the cliche teen drama that’s still playing being enough to suck you back in even though you’ve missed some context. To him it just looks like overly pretty-ed people overreacting. The scene ends and you return to the present enough to shrug off your blanket and settle the fabric more comfortably on your lap. “You guys can change the tape if you want.” 

A small mercy. Billy stands and begins looking at the tapes stacked on a shelf near the TV. It’s a fair collection, but the movies he saw in your room the time he came over to work on a project were better. He picks the first title that feels decent enough for background that doesn’t seem like too much just in case you’re prone to nausea. 

You’re patiently waiting for the tapes to switch out. Stu’s being quiet, which would have clued you in on a better rested, less sick day. You don’t realize he’s planning anything until you feel the side of your blanket being tugged on. “Stu.”

He scoots closer, “It’s cold.” 

Stu stretches his legs, weaseling himself under your blanket. You weakly try to push him out “There’s another blanket over there.” He ignores you, adjusting so that your legs overlap. “You’re going to get sick.” 

“Your pants are soft,” it’s said so softly, like a kid getting clothes fresh from the laundry.  You’re not sure you have it in you to ruin his good mood. He stretches a foot past your knee and a few inches up your thigh before relaxing back into place. “Fuzzy.”

Despite what you’re wearing, you can feel the comfortable warmth radiating off of him, turning the space beneath the blanket into a space heater. “You’re like a radiator.” 

“I’ll keep you warm an--” 

“Don’t ruin it.”

He frowns, mumbling something about you being “no fun” before sinking further into the couch. You pull more of the blanket onto you and Stu’s hit with the realization that you might not be warm enough. “You want another blanket?” 

You’re clearly surprised by the question. “Uh--no, I think I’m--” 

Stu pushes himself so that his legs are almost off your lap in order to reach the fabric draped over an armchair. He moves back into place and makes a point of draping the blanket over you. “Warmer?” 

“Yeah,” the admission is hesitant.

That is so like you, needing a little push to accept what you need. “Told ya.” 

He must be right because you don’t say anything else. Silence is usually your way of being reluctantly wrong. Stu takes his victory as an excuse to move a little closer. 

Billy sits back down, settling a little closer to the side of the couch. He’s not exactly jealous of how open Stu is. Distance is a good thing, a smart thing. But he does--

A weight on his shoulder. It takes less than a second for realization to wash over him. You’re relaxed, head resting on his upper arm. The room feels a little snugger but it’s not an uncomfortable change. 

The opening credits of the movie are rolling off screen and your eyes are focused on that. “Not to make this weird or lame,” you pause, sniffling slightly as you breathe, “But you guys are kind of nice, sometimes.” 

That has to be a sign of you being tired. Billy fights down a smile. “Sometimes?”

Stu turns his leg to tap your knee, “I think we deserve a little more than that.” 

You move your hand under the blanket to halfheartedly flick his leg. After that, your hand relaxes and rests there. “Fine. Most of the time.” 

#scream x reader #scream 1996 #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly! ghostface x reader #final girl fic

[headedstraightforfrankcastle]

Anakin Boyfriend headcanons SFW

SO lately I’ve been obsessing more and more over Star Wars - mostly over Kylo, Poe and our boy Anakin. I’ve been thinking about some things lately and now you have to think about them to :)

!: no gender specified, Revenge of the Sith!Anakin (but no downfall lol just cute vibes here)

A/N: not proof readed, please let me know if you notice any typo! sorry about it <3

-

we can all know he basically he’s a gentleman 

his love language is small acts of service.

you would help him get ready for his missions, he would help you get ready for yours

he would make sure you have everything packed with you, and if you’re a particularly forgetful person he would place all your thing on your bed so you don’t forget anything

if you don’t understand how soomething works he’s ready to explain it to you again an again, if you lose something he’d help you find it, if you’re feeling down he won’t leave your side unless he absolutely has to.

he would kneel in the middle of a corridor just because your boot is untied

your official styler

he would bring you small gifts from his missions 

everytime he sees you treasure them like jems on your shelves he smiles like a proud baby

constantly sitting on top of him

like - this man is the only chair existing for you

he would love to balance you on his leg, with your back against his chest and his hands slowly caressing your wast

whenever you two are alone he gently pushes you against the first wall he finds only to kiss you so slowly and kindly it hurts

he holds your hands in his when you’re cold! 

I told you to bring your gloves, baby, why don’t you ever listen to me?

little did he know, it was your plan all along

if you can walk side by side keep one harm aroud you waist or shoulders so you have all the space you need to hug his side 

one of your favourite things in the whole galaxy is seeing him try to hide a smile when you stroll like that

if you two are separated but still in sight, he would keep an eye on you 24/7 to make sure you’re okay and no one is bothering you

when your eyes meet his, you swear you can see them shine

this king would bring you breakfast in bed

most of the times he just asks C3P0 to do it, but when he’s in a good mood he tries to cook your favourite dishes

i’m not sure he’s good at cooking but he tries with all his heart, and you both finish your food with the promise of you teaching him your secrets in the kitchen

constantly makes sure you stay well fed and hydrated

training sessions with him! (propably would write something about it, stay tuned)

everytime he passes next to you he leaves a small kiss on your forhead, or a soft stroke on whichever part of your body he finds first

you have to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up and the last one he sees before he fells asleep

would tell you you are beautiful even when you’re at you worst (you’re always an angel to him) and mostly when you feel like everything but something remotedly good

kisses your tears away and keeps you close to his heart when you’re crying

literally there for you wheneve you need him

the. way. he. looks. at. you. you are the only person for him, he is the only person for you - and the galaxy must know it, because it stops when you linger a bit too much in the glance of the other

when you’re in a dangerous situation he keeps one step in front of you 

he knows you are fully capable of protecting yourself, and you’re damn good at it, but it keeps him calm to think he has at least this under his control, so you let him 

also it allows you to watch his back, so it’s a win win

little spoon (I will not elaborate)

Thank you for reading, let me know what your thoughts are on bf!Anakin and if we share something!

#anakin #anakin skywalker #sw anakin #episode 3 #revenge of the sith #skywalker #anakin imagine #anakin x reader #anakin headcanon #obi wan kenobi #luke skywalker #padme amidala

[gamermattsgf]

hey ik this isn’t a req but do you have any tips on writing fics?? im planning on writing and posting on my blog and you’re one of my biggest inspos so i’d love to hear your advice!!!

HIIIII, I’m so sorry I’ve gotten to u so late. I’ve been a bit MIA on here for a while because of stuff going on in my personal life, however, I would love love love to give you some of my personal tips :))

Another anonymous has asked something similar so this is also for them if they’re seeing this!! 🎀

Tip 1 : I’d say my first and most important tip is detail. In my own personal experience, people get bored of reading the exact same generic language used in the same way, if ur going to use generic language then as long as u can manipulate it to make it look pleasing + make it flow, you’ll be fine. People enjoy a story much more if it’s packed full of detail because they’ll be able to visualise it better. And yes, although sometimes it can be draining and you can get bored constantly having to put in detail, trust me, push through it and the writing will be much nicer in the end.

Tip 2 : my second tip is pretty simple, but much needed. DON’T GET LAZY WITH TENSE / PARAGRAPH SPACING AND PUNCTUATION. Obviously, it’s an absolute bitch trying to proofread everything, but when you don’t and someone is reading something with a bunch of typos + different tenses in it, it just looks poor and messy, especially when your paragraphing is all over the place, so be aware of that.

Tip 3 : Again, this is personal preference for me, but I’m often more drawn to stories that are unique / have specific character aesthetics. Don’t get me wrong, I love a simple reader x bf!Matt or bf!Chris, but don’t be afraid to shake it up a little. Maybe they’ve got a unique aesthetic? Or something that they really like? Or they have a specific piercing/tattoo (I could go on with this but I think you get the idea lol).

Tip 4 : PLOT. It’s important to build up character relationships and equally build up the atmosphere and vibe of your fic, don’t skip it just to get straight to the good bit, because 9/10 times it’s not worth it because your piece of writing lacks flow. Plus plot is so fun to write in my opinion, sometimes I get bored of writing smut because the actual characters are more interesting haha. (Side note: I wanna start writing angst and tooth rot for you guys 💀)

Tip 5 : finally, if you’re wanting to write about Matt and Chris, I think it’s essential you get each of their mannerisms right. You know you’re reading something good when you can actually picture them saying / doing what’s written down in the fic. Also I know this is weird but clothes are important, you need to make sure you write them into something they would / could pull off because it boosts your writing. Equally, if your going to use pet names, make sure it’s something you can picture them saying, if you can’t visualise it in their voice in your head, then don’t use it because I guarantee you it’ll also come out wrong in the reader’s head.

💋: that’s pretty much my 5 main tips that I live by whilst writing, if anyone needs any more help don’t be shy to message me :) thank you for even wanted my advice on the matter, it means a lot to me that people take inspiration from what I write.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolos #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagines #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #chris sturniolo smut

[voltronisanobsession]

Being Keith’s Older Sibling

The urges were too strong to not write this💆‍♀️💆‍♀️

Sorry if there’s some typos, my eyes are in a LOT of pain rn

Being Keith’s older sibling is definitely a hard feat in itself

After the death of your guys’ dad, things kinda went downhill for both of y’all

Your general mistrust and attitude towards people brushed off on little Keith, which comes to play later in his life as we’ve seen he was a more troubled kid

So while you tried your best to be a good role model for Keith growing up, it was hard to do so when all he ever saw from you was your aggression towards adults who tried separating you both

Eventually, social services do separate you guys, claiming that it would be best to allow Keith to grow without your negative influences but the damage had been done

Keith would grow up to not trust many people in his life because of your separation, always finding ways to sneak off and see you at the school they sent you to

It was times like those where you would promise to take him away from this place, from Earth, and live a life where you won't lose each other again

Because of this, Keith also developed a habit of lying to his guardians about his whereabouts because of your own attachment to him, encouraging him to continue this behavior 😭😭😭

Man none of yall knew better😭💔💔

But as you grew older, you, unfortunately, were sent away to the city to continue your studies there, cutting all contact with your little brother

Keith would then take an interest in flying and would go on to attend the Garrison to learn to become a pilot while you made plans every day to once again be reunited with him

I feel like it would take some time to leave the city and go back to your hometown because of the lack of resources available to you

So by the time you reach the Garrison after finding out he's been attending the school, it would be around the time he flunked out and disappeared

Fate is not fair to yall (crying)

So you get a job at the garrison while trying to find Keith and some time passes (YAY TIME SKIP)

After following Lance and Hunk while also finding Pidge on the rooftops, readying to reprimand and write them up, you all see the space shuttle crash and explosions go off, shooting off immediately to investigate

All while you're yelling at them to get back to the building cuz you don't want to lose the only job you have that's near where you think Keith is lurking💀

After seeing it was Keith who caused the explosions, he doesn't recognize you until you all get to the cabin

It's kinda emotional on your end cuz bro

This is your little brother... He's all grown up now, but in a way, he still looks the same. He's so much taller now, his hair is longer, and he would look at you with a familiar distrust you recognized

It was the same look he would give others when you guys were younger

The worst part is that he doesn't even recognize you because its been YEARS since he's last seen you

So it's a bit of a shock for him when you reveal that hey! I'm your sibling! And I've been trying so hard to get back to you for YEARS!

Very emotional as you both hug it out

Like really hug it out, tears and everything

"I thought I would never see you again."

"I never stopped looking for you Keith."

URGH MY HEART💔💔💔💔

After that everything is HISTORY

The dynamic between you both is kind of a weird thing tbh

While you're still holding onto the past and the younger version of Keith you remember, Keith has since let go of what the past held, ready to start a new future with his older sibling in his life

Because you're still holding onto this past, you treat him as if he's still a child and appear somewhat coddling in a way

You're just so excited and happy to be reunited with Keith again that you forget he's since then grown up. He's learned to be independent from years spent alone

And while Keith does miss you as well, he isn't used to having this new 'guardian figure' in his life, only used to the freedom and advice given to him from others, especially Shiro

Speaking of Shiro, I think you would go to him for advice on the blockage between you both since he basically raised Keith after you had left.

He knows Keith better, as much as it hurts you to admit it

Shiro would definitely tell you to give Keith space, to give him time to adjust to the new changes in his life. He's still a teen and is still learning to deal with his emotions, so just give him space to fully digest the situation at hand

You take this advice to heart and tread carefully, which Keith appreciates A LOT

Like imagine you grow up with unrestricted freedom, being able to do whatever you want and just learning to take care of yourself, and then one day, an authoritative figure appears in your life and begins setting up these restrictions. Telling you to be careful, making small rules that break your routine entirely

That's what Keith felt when you began making your presence more known in his life since you believed that you had to keep protecting him from the world

But he's grown up

He shows you that he doesn't need you protecting him anymore

It's bittersweet for you to see him not need you and makes you sad that you missed out on basically his childhood

BUT HE'S SO SWEET IN LETTING YOU KNOW THAT YOU'LL BE THERE FOR HIM NOW AND HIS FUTURE ACCOMPLISHMENTS

AND THAT HE'LL BE THERE FOR YOURS TOO😭😭😭

There's just TOO MUCH I can say about being Keith's older sibling, like it's such a complex relationship I would love to develop more on!!!!

This is literally just the tip of the iceberg but imma cut it short for now

To keep it sweet, both of you know that now you're together again, nothing is ever separating yall again

Space wars and all, you guys know you're stronger together and your bond just grows into a beautiful relationship as time goes on😭😭

#Keith x reader #keith kogane x reader #platonic Keith x reader #voltron x reader #vld x reader #voltron legendary defender #x reader #voltron #vld #keith kogane #Keith vld #vld keith #platonic Keith kogane #voltron legendary defender x reader #platonic voltron

[gonktroll]

Imma need u to hand over some Bruce, Creek and Guy hcs 😳🤲🏼

Author's Note:

hiiiii nonnie i can do that for you easy peasy :3 ok so i lied its not easy,, writing is so haaardd,, but we must persist !! i'll be real these are three trolls i don't really think about often...sorry i lied again i think about creek so much...looking back there's more of him than anyone else im so sorry !! lemme know if the formatting is broken or any typos!! also feel free to send in requests also,, the box is open still

on a side note, when did the format tools on tumblr get so crappy?

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Characters: Bruce, Creek, and Guy Diamond

Word Count & Time: 2, 721 words and 10 Minutes Read. Writing took around Two Weeks. Warnings & Tags: NSFW, Minors Do Not Interact! Contains: fluffy/romantic headcanons, mentions of children & having children (bruce and guy), cake by the ocean by dnce is there i guess, insecurity (bruce and creek), dirty talk (bruce and creek), body worship (bruce), overstimulation (bruce), voyeurism (bruce), cuckoldry (bruce), depictions of a toxic relationship (creek), jealousy (creek), outdoor sex (creek), oral sex (creek), orgasm denial (creek), dacryphilia (creek), power dynamics (creek), genitalia descriptors.

BRUCE

Let it be said: Bruce wants nothing more than to take care of you, please let him nurture you. Let him secure you emotionally, psychically, and mentally. Just let him take the pressure off your shoulders, even if it's for a short while. Do you need help with cleaning up? He's already got the mop and broom ready. Are you getting started with dinner? He's hopping in the kitchen to prep with you. Sparing time is the least he can do for you. You don't even have to ask him to help out, he's already ready to go.

Wouldn't pass up the opportunity to be a little mischievous towards you. Your boyfriend has bad dad jokes, boyish pranks, and an impish banter to behold. He'll have you busting a seam from laughter but he can't help himself. Bruce thinks you look best when you're smiling.

Catching a glimpse of any giggly children and their parents makes his heart yearn for you. Would you want a family like this? What kind of trolls would both your children be? These thoughts follow him for the rest of the day.

He's actively trying to leave Brozone in the past so he can look forward to his future with you. But, sometimes he can't resist showing off to you. He has to let you know how amazing of a singer and dancer he was (and still is). Please, be proud of him.

This troll is a romantic at heart, Bruce is always planning a secret date of some kind. Whenever you briefly mention something you're interested in, he's definitely ironing out the details to make it happen. Seeing the look of surprise on your face during the date makes it all worth it.

He doesn't mind what kind of date you plan, but if you want to make him happy, he loves dates that involve water activities. For instance, a romantic bath with rose petals and soft music is something he'd appreciate. Similarly, a date on the beach with a candlelit dinner would be perfect, and he might even serenade you with 'Cake by The Ocean'.

Playing the role of 'the Heartthrob' for a long time before suddenly creating a new identity has made Bruce feel insecure. He wants to be more than just 'the hottest troll ever' to you. He is more than just a pretty face with rock-hard abs. When you acknowledge who he is and validate his emotions, his stomach starts flipping and his heart is doing somersaults. You might actually be too good for him…

Showing genuine emotions to him and sharing personal moments will get him hotter under the collar than explicit words or seductive clothing ever could. Simply being authentic with each other is enough to spark his desire to be physically intimate with you.

It won't take much to convince Bruce to try something new with you. He loves experimenting and even if it doesn't work out, both of you can laugh about it later.

Bruce isn't fond of quickies, public sex, or rushed sex, he would prefer to take his time with you and hates the idea of being interrupted. There's no set schedule, but you make time for each other. It's best when it's just the two of you and all the time in the world.

During making love, Bruce will always prioritize the experience you're making together. If your legs aren't trembling and your voice isn't hoarse afterward, then he isn't doing his job correctly.

Bruce will talk throughout the whole affair. If he wants a reaction out of you or coax your attention, words are his weapon of choice. A quick aside of sweet teasing to quickly fluster you or lecherous murmurs along the shell of your ear while his hips languidly plunge into your insatiable warmth. Feel free to return his energy and talk back to him, he welcomes it.

There will never be a session where Bruce doesn't lavish you with endless praise and worship your body. You will always be told how attractive and precious you are to him.

He secretly worries you'd find it slutty but he's very interested in watching other trolls flirt with you and has fantasies of watching you fuck someone else. It would take him time to admit it to you, but you may get suspicious of how worked up Bruce gets after someone tries to make a pass at you.

Underneath those beach-bum shorts, Bruce is packing. His sheath is chubby, giving the impression that it's petite or compact. However, make no mistake: Bruce is a grower and it's meaty at full length.

GUY DIAMOND

Get ready to date one of the most dramatic trolls of all time - Guy Diamond. He does everything with emphasis and panache, and why wouldn't he? As an iconic troll, he shouldn't have to limit himself to others' expectations, and he appreciates that you recognize this. Guy is looking for someone who would never ask him to tone it down - in fact, he wants you to encourage him to turn it up! He's not going to dim his glow for anyone, and you make him want to shine even brighter.

Every time he expresses his love, it's extraordinary. He might put on a grand musical performance, surprise you with an extravagant gift, or take you on an unforgettable date night. Guy just has to let you know how much he cares and regular displays of affection just won't do.

Guy Diamond is a unique Pop Troll, possibly the only one, with the special ability to auto-tune his voice. He loves to show off his talent by hitting high notes and emphasizing particular words, all to get you to compliment him. If you tell him how 'cool and special' he is, he will feel elated and proudly strut around like a peacock.

Guy is known as 'THEE Glitter Troll', so it's only natural that his partner should be as stylish and cool as him. However, he sometimes tries to improve his partner's fashion sense or curtail their negative personality traits. This can put pressure on the relationship, as no one likes to be told they're lame. It takes some time for Guy to realize that he is dating his partner for who they are, not who he wants them to become.

You'll have to adjust to his extreme stubbornness. It's even more frustrating when he is aware of the consequences but still chooses to proceed. Unless you have a fondness for men who behave stupidly, it will require a lot of patience until he learns his lessons the hard way.

Another way Guy expresses his affection is by pampering you. He's always looking for opportunities to help you out with anything. He reminds you to take some time out and practice self-care whenever you're feeling overwhelmed. He's also concerned with your health, making sure you eat well and get some exercise. If you haven't socialized much, Guy has no problem taking you to a party today. He reassures you that taking care of you is never a burden, and knowing that you are happy means everything to him.

Raising Tiny Diamond had a positive impact on Guy Diamond's maturity, which is clear in his relationship with you. He has grown more considerate of others' feelings, and more thoughtful about the consequences of his actions. Instead of diving in impulsively, he takes the time to discuss plans with you. He also spends more time contemplating what he wants from your relationship long-term.

Guy loves it when you plan date nights including Tiny. Spending quality time with the two Trolls he loves most makes his heart sing. Watching you show love to Tiny Diamond by playing or singing touches a special place in his heart. He may not say it aloud, but he's started to think of the possibility of having another baby - with you this time.

He doesn't have a preference for who guides or receives during sex, but he likes to lean back and let you take the lead. Guy is not selfish at all, you won't be unsatisfied that's for sure. He believes that making love with you means sharing yourself with each other - and we all know Guy Diamond isn't afraid to share himself with anyone.

When it comes to sex, he will never be afraid to be open about his interests and desires and he expects the same from you.

It's still a mystery how nude trolls hide their genitals but Guy Diamond is rather average in terms of size. And yes, the sheath and balls are glittery.

CREEK

Let's address the elephant in the room: Creek is not a pleasant troll to date.

On one hand, Creek strives to present himself as a reasonable, enlightened voice that brings positive energy to the village. He enjoys the significance he holds and especially wants your respect. On the other hand, he uses this mask to hide his judgmental nature. He is well aware of his social status and takes advantage of it to behave inappropriately. Most trolls cannot comprehend the extent of his behavior which makes it all the easier to manipulate them. You must understand that you will not be the exception as his partner.

Creek will use dating you as a 'shield' to embolden his behavior even more. He's a well-liked troll with an interesting partner and has the Queen's favor as a friend acquaintance. Surely, a well-adjusted and repentant troll like Creek wouldn't cause any issues.

Confronting him on his behavior is draining, not because there is shouting or bickering between you, but because he maintains his calm and refuses to acknowledge anything. He patronizes you and then sidesteps any issue you bring up. He won't admit his wrongdoing or promise to improve, instead suggests that you're blowing things out of proportion. He insists that you should be content with your relationship and the special bond you both share.

Despite his glaring faults, you see glimpses of the troll you love underneath. When you're overwhelmed, Creek is always there to help you calm down and plan your next steps. If someone's intruding on your boundaries, he's present to redirect them without escalating the situation any further. He's not always willing to prioritize someone else's issues over his own desires, but he would try for you at least.

Makes it a point to tell you how much he loves you and how special you are to him every day. It is disgustingly sweet, especially to anyone who may be nearby to witness. Creek lavishes you with pet names, sappy proclamations, and over-the-top public displays of affection, especially whenever Branch is around. He grazes his soft hand along your cheek with a tender declaration of his adoration or brushes his forehead against yours as he greets you first thing in the morning.

It seems that Creek has an infinite supply of affectionate nicknames just for you. These names can either make you blush with delight or annoy you to no end. Although he could simply use your real name, he prefers calling you 'Angel', 'Darling', or 'Sweetheart' as these names more accurately reflect his feelings for you. Your adorable reactions only encourage him to use them more often.

He writes songs and poems about you to express how you make him feel or reminisce about the memories you've made together. He surprises you by performing an emotional ballad at sunset, singing about how your beautiful eyes meeting his makes his heart skip a beat. Though he would never admit it, when he was held captive by Chef, those poems and songs helped him maintain his sanity.

You're both known to the village as a pair of lovebirds, despite Creek's difficult personality traits and your immense patience. It comes as a surprise when one of you announces the end of the relationship, usually accompanied by tears. Creek appears unfazed as he continues to run his meditation/yoga classes and engage in village events. He tells anyone who asks that the break-up was mutual, though you were more emotional than he. It's only partially true, he was more dumbfounded than he'd like to admit. Once you start moving on, he becomes secretly anxious and slinks his way back into your life before someone else can. It's no surprise when you're both back together within a week.

Underneath all the enlightenment chatter, manicured appearance, and insincere behavior, Creek is insecure about his place in the world and his community. He wants to control what others think of him and prove his worth to secure his position. You can constantly assure him with words, actions, and gifts, but until he feels secure in himself, it won't make any difference. To Creek, this isn't a problem; he'll just do whatever it takes to keep you around - morality be damned. He deserves happiness as much as any other troll.

Creek has included you in his yoga classes, claiming that he wants to "maintain your enchanting aura". Depending on the difficulty of the regimen, he either treats you as his top-performing student to praise and use as an example or his problematic student who needs additional attention. Despite the playful banter and flirtation, he maintains a professional demeanor in front of others. However, private classes are an entirely different matter.

Private classes for you and him are usually held at his place, where he has the necessary equipment, or out in the forest where he's previously found a quiet spot. The sessions start with some light banter, stretching, and warm-ups, followed by vocal affirmations, until Creek decides that your form is in desperate need of coaching. He starts with gentle sweeps along your limbs and then to more sensitive areas as he guides you into position. He flirts unabashedly with you, using honeyed words and heated glances to gauge your interest before nudging things further. It's a fun game to see how far you can both go.

Let him put his mouth to work on you, Creek is talented at more than just talking. He's obsessed with teasing you, his nimble fingers soothing your heat with languid motions as he watches you with eager, hungry eyes. Plead with him to give you the release you so desperately need, his tongue is dying to taste you.

Creek takes great pleasure in denying your orgasm, causing you frustration to the point of tears. Seeing those pretty streams down your cheeks as you hold back your sobs while he grinds agonizingly slow into you. You can ask him to speed up, but why should he? The turmoil painting your face is sweeter than he could have imagined.

You'll have to let Creek take control when it's time to play, he gets resistant if you try to imply that you want to take the lead. When he's in charge, it's never in an expected 'dominant' way. Instead, it's about using his words and your body's reactions to break you down into an absolute mess. Doesn't it feel good to shut off everything else and let Creek make you happy?

It takes so long to coax Creek to allow you to be dominant, skinning back layers of excuses and bitter self-reflection. He's hesitant to have you hold the reins and to just let himself relax. He's more afraid of the sentiment he may not be enough, especially if isn't able to do it himself. Like most situations with Creek, it will take a lot of patience and communication to ease his mind - and he'll never truly be at ease.

Once he discovers how relinquishing control feels, he's nearly appalled by how his treacherous body is responding to you. You praise him as you hover above him, murmuring to him about how he's doing "such a good job" and that he's your "good boy" as your hands ghost lower and lower. Creek is aghast that he isn't disgusted by this, telling himself to just flip you over and demonstrate how it's really done. All that guttural and depraved keening surely isn't coming from his mouth. Afterward, he can't deny that loss of control frightens him, but it's just so…erotic too.

This troll is both a grower - and it shows. Those low-waisted yellow sweats do little to 'hide' his sheath and he is well aware.

#bruce trolls x reader #guy diamond trolls x reader #creek trolls x reader #trolls x reader #headcanons #anon