#i've studied him EXTENSIVELY

[ultraviolet-cello]

like just some guy i guess

#IM LYING IM LYING IM NOT NORMAL ABT HIMMMM #razlo #trigun #razlo the tri punisher of death #razlo the trip of death #i've written a good 10k worth of analysis on this fucker if you ask me anything about him theres a good chance ive studied him extensively

[horrorhot-line]

zayne nsfw alphabet

➵ pairing: zayne x female!reader

➵ word count: 3.2k

➵ genre: nsfw

➵ warnings: minors dni. this post is pure smut, no plot here. dominant/submissive, slight somnophilia, slight degradation, sexual control, slight temperature play, toys.

➵ summary: pretty self explanatory, the nsfw alphabet on your favourite boy.

➵ xavier's ver. | rafayel's ver.

➵ masterlist  (requests are open)

The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 horrorhot-line

notes: so, i know this is late but i've been sick, so i was bed bound- like i've been asked here is zayne's alphabet, i tried my best to keep true to his character. credit to my fiance for letting me bombard him with questions so i could make this short series accurate.

this was requested here, by a lovely anon <333

credit to @multi-fandom-imagine for the template

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➵ a for aftercare (what is he like after sex?) zayne will cuddle you. you know this man finds it hard to show his emotions; he tries for you- but after he's done with you, hands held above your head, his other arm wrapping around your back to hold your chest to his as he snaps his hips into yours, making sure you feel every inch. then, when you're all used, looking pretty and satisfied, he'll clean you up and wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, focusing on the soft vibrations of your body as you talk and stroke his hair.

➵ b for body part (his favourite body part of his and also his partner's) he loves your hips, loves tracing his fingers on them just to watch you squirm because you're sensitive there. loves holding them as he fucks you, digging his nails into them as he tries to stop himself from cumming, just so he can feel your pussy twitch around him a little longer. loves the feel of them in his hands, knowing you can't escape his grip as he speeds up, enjoying how you get louder the closer you are to cumming. he likes his back; more specifically, he likes how broad they are because you tend to scratch when he's buried inside you, stretching you out as you hold onto him, your nails leaving marks all over him- he'll look at them in the mirror, in awe of how deep and red they are, a reminder of how well he fucks you. "call my name like a good girl, won't you?"

➵ c for cum (anything to do with cum, basically) he loves your cum, loves the way you get so wet for him, the way it drips down your pussy and onto his thighs, covering them as he holds you in his lap, squeezing your ass to guide you up and down his cock. he loves the mess you make, admiring how pretty you look after you've gotten your release, before zayne's forcing his dick into you again, watching how you struggle in his grasp. "ah, ah, ah. you're not going anywhere until i'm done with you."

➵ d for dirty secret (self-explanatory, a dirty secret of his) despite being someone who likes to keep clean, he adores making you squirt. he won't relent, thumb pressed firmly to your clit even though you're trying to pry his hand away, setting a brutal force, pounding your wet cunt until you twitch around him, and then he pulls out, watching you squirt over the bedsheets. he doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath, shoving his dick straight back in and fucking you, watching you squirt in splurts as you sob. "there you go- that wasn't so bad, was it? do it once more for me, won't you?"

➵ e for experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he's doing?) he's not that experienced, but he knows his way around your body, having spent extensive time studying you. so you're surprised when he tells you he hasn't slept with anyone but you. you don't believe him, to which he'll respond by giving you a demonstration, and suddenly, you don't feel all that curious as he towers over you, arm at the side of your head, stopping you from getting up as he loosens his tie with his free hand. "why don't i show you how much it helps to study your partner's reaction- what do you say?"

➵ f for favourite position (this goes without saying. will probably include a visual) prone bone or you on his lap, take your pick. zayne loves the way he can hold you down with just his hips, kissing your shoulder as he fucks into you from behind slowly, speeding up gradually until the headboard slams against the wall and you reach your hand out, grabbing the sheets as you try to get out from under him. he'll reach for that same hand, seizing it in his before forcing it behind your back as he raises himself off you, dick still buried inside you as he sits up on his knees, forcing you to stay in place before he's back to fucking you again. "and where do you think you're going? you wanted this- remember?"

➵ g for goofy (is he more serious in the moment, or is he humorous, etc) he's serious; brow slightly furrowed as he fucks into you, watching his dick enter you before his gaze trails to yours. he loves watching you come undone, focusing solely on making you feel good and then some as his thumb finds your clit, no time for him to fool around as he makes you cum on his dick.

➵ h for hair (how well groomed is he, does the carpet match the drapes) he's well groomed, he has a stubble, one that peeks over his boxers and has you staring. zayne doesn't like letting it grow out, he feels you deserve the best, and he takes care of himself as such, making sure he's looking presentable enough as he takes you.

➵ i for intimacy (how is he during the moment, romantic aspect…) he's very romantic when he has the time. outside of his busy work schedule, he'll make sure to make you something nice to eat, lighting candles and giving you flowers when he gets home, before he kisses you, his lips and tongue getting more desperate as he holds you closer, and you swear if he doesn't hold you up, you'll buckle. he'll lead you to the bedroom, slowly taking your clothes off and showering you with wet kisses across your body before his hands find their way to your cunt. "i love every part of you- you're all mine, don't forget it."

➵ j for jacking off (masturbation headcanon) he won't jack off for a while, but if the hospital's busy and he's leaving his office later than usual, horny and stressed, and you're sleeping- he'll take care of it himself, not wanting to bother you. though, there is that one time you wake up to get yourself water, not realising zayne's back until you find him fisting his dick on the couch, trying to keep quiet. you end up helping him out, and after he's balls deep inside you, fucking you until you're a drooling mess, eyes rolling back at the way he won't stop even as you cum multiple times, you suggest he wakes you up when he needs you, and he stops jacking off altogether, preferring to empty his balls inside you instead of on a tissue. "you're so tight, so good- i'm going to fill you up, make you take all my cum."

➵ k for kink (one or more of their kinks) he has a huge size kink. loves watching the bulge in your stomach forming because of his dick, pressing down on it and forcing you to look at how deep he goes. he has a slight degradation kink, likes making you aware of how much of a slut you are for his dick by making you beg for it only to turn you down and make you wait instead. he's a huge dominant, prefers forcing you into submission rather than you giving in to him right off the bat. depending on the position, he'll choke you too, the other hand going for your tit as he squeezes both, releasing his hold when your vision begins to fuzz. also, he loves being in control, adores it when he finally breaks you, slapping his dick against your pussy, teasing your clit until you're begging him to fuck you, only for him to force your thighs together so he can slot his cock in between and tease you some more. he'll force your body against his, moving his dick against your pussy, letting his tip catch on the hood of your clit so he can feel you twitch against him. "no, i don't think so. you'll wait like the good girl you are for when i finally take you."

➵ l for location (favourite places to do the do) strictly your place or his, he doesn't like doing it anywhere else. he prefers privacy, and it's mostly because he wants to make sure no one sees how desperate and pretty you look begging for more, yet struggling to take what he gives you. he thinks you sound like pure sin, look it too, and he's certain if any other man saw you like this, they would want you for themselves, so he'll only have sex with you when the two of you are alone in either place, except for when he's stressed and horny because of work- never a good combination, and you end up dropping by at the office when the other staff have either gone home for the day, or are focused on different departments, in which case, he'll bend you right over his desk, shoving your panties to the side so he can finally fill you up, forcing you to take his dick until he cums. "you came here on purpose, didn't you? if you wanted me this badly, you should have just called me home."

➵ m for motivation (what turns him on, gets him going) he likes the power he has over you, and that by extension, means he has a sadistic side. he can be cruel, teasing you and acting oblivious, not showing that he acknowledges how horny you are until you're begging for him. that's what turns him on, the idea that you are weak to him, the way you stutter when he looks into your eyes, silent and holding your gaze until you relent and look away, something he lets you do unless he's balls deep inside you, fucking you hard and rough, snapping his hips and forcing his dick into your pussy before he's lifting your hips slightly so he can get even deeper. "that look suits you, you know. you're the prettiest when you're taking my cock, you know that?"

➵ n for nicknames (what are his favourite pet names for you? what does he call you when you're both alone?) he's not a huge fan of pda, likes to keep his private life with you quiet and under wraps, so he doesn't have pet names for you outside, preferring to call you by your name. when it's just the two of you though, and he's balls deep inside you, towering over your body as he watches you struggle to take his dick, he'll call you his good girl. the tone he uses is different though, when you've been a brat, teasing him when you know he's on the clock just so he can be rough with you when he gets off work. "you're always such a good girl for me, so what changed today? i suppose you had fun trying to make me lose my composure at the hospital. was it worth it?"

➵ o for oral (preference in giving or receiving, skills, etc) he prefers giving. this man adores the way you grab his hair, trying to get him to stop after he squeezes another orgasm out of you, your body spent and your energy depleted as you beg him to slow down, only for him to tighten his grip around your thighs, forcing your hips down to stop you from squirming, before he licks your clit again, forcing a sob out of you as he uses two fingers to stretch your cunt. "if you want me to let go of you- how about you try not to cum this time, hm?"

➵ p for pace (is he fast or rough? slow or sensual?) he's fast and rough, pace unrelenting as he grabs your leg and raises over it his shoulder, using it as leverage as he shoves his dick inside you, forcing you take every inch, tip kissing your cervix as your stomach bulges. as if the sheer size of this man isn't enough, he tries his best to make you feel him in your gut, as if he's trying to mold your pussy into the shape of his dick. his thumb finds your clit, just so that he can feel your cunt twitch and spasm around him, readying himself to cum inside you, yet again. "want me too slow down? that's too bad- you're gonna have to take it."

➵ q for quickie (his opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc) he's not a huge fan of quickies, he likes taking his time with you, forcing you past your breaking point until all you can do is tell him how it's too much. but, when he has overtime and late shifts, back to back, and only has a few hours at home before he has to return to his job, he'll trap you against a wall, or a cabinet, or a wardrobe, rip your clothes off you, bending you over before he's balls deep inside you, fingers in your mouth or around your throat as he fucks you from behind, forcing you to look his way before he kisses you. "i don't have much time. be a good girl and behave for me, won't you?"

➵ r for risk (is he game to experiment, does he take risks, etc) he doesn't really like risks, prefers staying inside his comfort zone. that is until you get a fixation that you have to explore, and he finds himself giving into you. the first time you asked him to use his evol on you, thinking the cold tempreature would spice up your sex life 10 times over, he refused. until you begged, and begged and he found himself relenting, trying it out as he traced his icy fingers across your lower stomach, his other hand busy being two digits deep inside your pussy, and he won't deny the way his cock twitches at your reactions, you underneath him, jumping at every little touch, and he decides that he loves the way you’re so weak against his abilities. "you wanted me to use my powers, did you not? then be a good girl, and tell me how good you feel."

➵ s for stamina (how many rounds can he go for, how long does he last) he has a lot of stamina, and when he has the time he will show you just how pent up he's been because of his busy job, forcing you to take his dick late into the night, letting you know that you'll have to sleep in, because there is no way he is letting you rest until he's emptied every last bit of cum inside you. he lasts a long time too, and he'll never admit it, but he will edge himself, slowing down ever so slightly so he doesn't cum too quick, just so he can enjoy the look of pure pleasure on your face and the way your pussy tightens around him, "you're doing so well. cum one more time for me like a good girl, won't you?"

➵ t for toy (does he own toys? does he use them? partner or himself?) he doesn't own any toys- that is until he brings one back from a buisness trip as a souvenier. he ends up surprising you with it the night he returns, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, watching every little reaction you have as he reaches between your bodies to press the vibrator to your clit, using the momentary distraction to shove the last few inches of his dick into you, the corner of his mouth twitching as you throw your head back, clearly struggling to take him. "don't look away. keep your eyes on me… good girl."

➵ u for unfair (how much does he like to tease) he teases you- sure, but that’s not the reason why he’s incredibly unfair. he's borderline cruel with how demanding he is, forcing your body into different positions, forcing you back onto your knees when you collapse from how spent your body is, holding you against him as he fucks his way into your gut, his pace only getting faster as he uses your pussy, never once stopping even as you ask him to slow down, "no- i know you can take it, so you will."

➵ v for volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?) he’s not loud, but, he makes up for it. he's never quiet, pure sin falling from his lips, always letting you know how good you feel, or how well behaved you are, as he's snapping his hips up into your pussy, praising you for taking his dick, knowing full well that you're barely coherent because of how big he is. "that's it, tell me how good you feel. you look so pretty like this, struggling to take all of me."

➵ w for wildcard (random headcanon for him) he prefers privacy over all else, and it's for multiple reasons, but the most important is the fact that he's protective of you. more specifically, he's protective over who gets to see this side of you, the one of you drooling underneath him, struggling to take his dick, eyes rolling back at how deep he is, hands reaching out to push against his abs, trying to stop him from slipping the last few inches in, loud in how you moan when he grabs those same hands, trapping them in his hold as he fucks you harder than before, balls deep inside you. "you're mine, and that means that no one will ever see this side of you. do you understand? no- nodding isn't good enough, i want you to tell me you understand… good girl."

➵ x for x-ray (what's going on in those pants of his) he's big, i meant it. not big enough that he rips you apart, but big enough that you feel the stretch of your pussy. he can never get it all the way in on the first try, he has to hold your hips in place as he fucks the last few inches of his dick inside you, lifting your lower body to his so he has complete control as he starts to move. "such a good girl for me. i'm sorry if it hurts, but i'm not going to hold back."

➵ y for yearning (how high is his sex drive) zayne longs for you, and his sex drive is very high. you just have that effect on him, but he likes to keep that to himself. he waits for you to initate most of the time when the two of you are alone, holding his face in your hands as he kisses you the second you let him know you're horny, dragging you onto his lap so you can feel just how much he wants you. by then it’s too late, because now he has you wrapped around his finger and he can do whatever he wants with you, knowing you’ll give in to him. "you have no idea what you do to me."

➵ z for zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterwards) he does get tired after sex, but he'll cuddle you first, stroking your hair or tracing his fingers along your back as he waits for you to fall fast asleep after he's fucked you, stolen all your energy and filling you up with his cum. he likes watching you, making sure you're resting well after he's used you, before he's closing his eyes and joining you.

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The following content is protected under copyright laws. do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 horrorhot-line

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #x reader #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you #smut

[oikasugayama]

Late happy new year!! First of all, I just wanna say that I LOOOOOOOVED ur akutagawa nsfw alphabet!! It was really in character imo especially cuz I've started simping for him a lot lately. Can I request an nsfw alphabet for Dazai??

Happy New Year!! Thank you, I'm so glad you liked it and I find it very satisfying that you thought it was in character!!! Hopefully I can do Dazai's NSFW alphabet the same justice :D

Dazai honestly kind of fucking sucks at aftercare. It's not that he neglects you or pushes you away or anything, but he does the bare minimum because he's already in shut-down mode after using all his energy to fuck you nice and good. He'll cross his ankles and lay back with his hands behind his head, grinning up at the ceiling and you'll have to roll over and cling to his side and tell him to hold you. He does it happily, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the top of your head. “You were so good for me,” he whispers. “I can't wait to do that again.” It's nice but it's about all he does, letting you both fall asleep sweat-sticky and covered in cum. The showers in the morning are incredible, but the stains on the bedsheets are annoying.

His favorite body part is your tits. He likes that they fill his hand nicely. He likes playing with your nipples and making you whine. He likes just holding them and squishing them. He likes that he can look at them at absolutely any point in the day and they’re just pretty and nice and he can’t help it, he’s just a man, he likes boobies. He especially loves when you’re cuddling and you let him hold your boobs just for fun.

He’s an expert at making you cum on his tongue. He loves lapping it up and slurping it out of you and sucking it off his fingers. He doesn’t play that “it’s okay if I don’t cum” shit. You’re going to cum, especially if your past partners haven’t made you. He’s obsessive about his goal and he will pull out all the stops to make it happen. And when you go down on him, he sure likes when you swallow his cum but he won’t make you because he likes it just as much splattered across your face.

His dirty talk game is unparalleled. He’s a fucking demon. Part of what makes it so intense is that he’ll start it absolutely anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you’re at work, in public, with friends, on the phone, or at home in peace. If he wants to turn you on, or if he wants to fuck with you, he’ll use his low, calm voice and lean in so, so close. He’ll crowd into your space, slowly pull your hair back from your shoulder, tuck it behind your ear, and say something like “I bet Kunikida could use a lesson on how to eat pussy. Why don’t I spread you out on the table so we can teach him?”

He doesn’t talk about how experienced he is, but based on how skilled he is, there’s a good chance he’s had a lot of practice. He never confirms whether that’s the case, or if he’s just picked up all his tips and tricks through his vast study of human anatomy. If you expressed that it truly bothered you to not know, he’d confess that he’s actually not been with that many people and that yeah, he knows what to do because he studied extensively, but if you don’t ask he won’t tell. He likes to keep the suave facade.

His favorite position is pretzel (cartoon depiction). You both like how deep he can get in doggy, but he wants to see your face. Watching your reactions to what he does to you is his favorite part of fucking, so he found another position. You lay on your side with one leg in the air, he straddles your lower leg and fucks you from there--he loves it, he likes holding your leg and kissing it while getting balls deep and watching your eyes roll back as he fucks the deepest part of you.

He absolutely can be goofy in bed. Sometimes he’ll randomly stop all movement and start laughing, and you have to ask what happened, and he can have a range of weird ass responses. One notable one was “I don’t know why but in my head I just called my dick ‘my little dinky’ and now I can’t stop laughing.” He genuinely collapses on top of you laughing about that one and eventually once the laughing has subsided his hips lazily start humping you again and it’s so ridiculous and you just have unserious silly-talk sex after that.

Dazai honestly kind of hates hand-jobs. It’s not that he doesn’t like your hands--they are nice and soft and he likes holding them or having them roam over other parts of his body!-- but if he’s getting pleasure on his dick he wants it wet. Your mouth, your pussy, or even your ass if you’re into anal. He wants his dick in something tight and wet that he can cum deep inside.

He absolutely loves fucking in inappropriate locations, hence why he dirty talks with you anywhere he so pleases. He honestly needs a partner who’s a bit more respectful of appropriate sexual spaces than he is otherwise he’d do something ridiculous like sneak you into Chuuya’s office and fuck you over his desk just to piss off his old partner if he catches you in there. Actually, he’d really like to do that, now that it’s on his mind…

He jacks off a lot :/ He hasn’t had a partner in a long time and as much as he flirts with people he’s not actually very successful in pulling one night stands. This is why when he has a partner he wants to cum inside of them rather than because of their hand-- he’s so fucking sick of his own hand. If he has to jack off one more fucking time he might launch himself off the roof. Please for the love of god let him cum inside.

He definitely has some kinks. He likes sensation play, he likes edging and orgasm denial, he can absolutely get into impact play if you want him to spank you. He doesn’t want to be degraded or talked down to because no matter how much it’s reaffirmed that it’s only words during sex, his brain tends to hold onto it and obsess over it. He doesn’t really like to degrade you either for the same reason; for his own mental health he needs the verbal focus to be filthy rather than insulting.

When he realizes he loves you, the way he fucks you changes. At first you’re having fun, he’s blowing your back out every night, he’s eating you out for so long and so intensely that you’re sensitive and sore for hours. When he realizes he’s in love with you, he lays you down gently, making out with you slowly and sensually. His hands move very delicately, tickling you and teasing you. He fucks you missionary this time, staying as close to your body as he can. His thrusts are slow and measured and he keeps kissing you, kissing your neck, occasionally moving down to suck on your tits before coming back up to say you feel so good and “fuck, thank you,” and when he cums he might accidentally whimper that he loves you.

His sexual motivation is mutual pleasure. He has a high sex drive once sex is a habit for him again (i.e. when he doesn’t have to masturbate to get his rocks off). He wants you every day and he gets whiny if he can’t have it. (The best time to dom him is when one of you has been away for a few days and he’s desperate to get his hands on you--push him down, tell him to shut up and do what you say, and he’s putty in your hands). Like mentioned before, he doesn’t play with that “you don’t have to make me cum” shit. He! Will! Make! You! Cum! Or! He! Will! Die!

Also as mentioned, Dazai says NO to most degradation. Once you point out that calling you a dirty little whore and a cock slut technically counts as degradation he’s like “okay, well that’s fine,” but he never allows anything like “you’re useless unless you’re being fucked,” because his brain stops after “useless” and it just makes him feel bad. Almost anything else he’d try. He’d honestly be turned on if you dragged the tip of a knife around his body (without cutting him). He’d think it’s hot to watch you fuck someone else (but he’d have to be tied up otherwise he’d get jealous and rip that other person off of you). He doesn’t want to fuck anyone besides you unless it’s as a threesome+. You have to be involved.

Dazai fucking LOVES GIVING YOU ORAL. Again, he has studied human anatomy immensely. He knows exactly what to do to make you cum. He knows how to move his tongue, where to move it, how fast, how long. He knows how to finger you at the same time to double or even triple your pleasure. He could literally eat you out until his lips wrinkled up from being against your wet pussy for so long. He definitely gets hard from eating you out and could rut against the bed and nut in his pants from making you cum.

He has no pace preference; he very much goes for what the day demands. Sometimes you’re grumpy or cranky and he’s pent-up and feels like brat taming and he gets you into bed and fucks the absolute shit out of you. Sometimes he’s overwhelmed with how much he loves you and he takes such sweet, slow care of you. It all depends on how you’re both feeling!!

Dazai will never turn down a quickie, though it always leaves him wanting more. If you both work at the ADA he’ll coincidentally run out of pens and offer to go get more from the supply closet at the same time that you leave the office to go to the bathroom--and then he’ll follow you in, lock the door behind you, and fuck you against the sink, hoping none of the other girls need the toilet for the next 15 minutes.

He definitely will take sexual risks. He’ll fuck you at work, he’ll ask you for a blowjob any time you pass a random alleyway, he’ll put your hand on his crotch under the table at dinner, he’ll try to finger you under your dress in the back of a car as someone drives you home. He’s a little horndog. He’ll also take the risk of cumming inside you even if you’re not on birth control--he insists you’ll find a way together to take care of any consequences but please please please let him cum inside it feel so good he wants it in you it’s so hot please let him please please please.

Dazai has a lot of stamina, thus why he can eat you out for hours at a time. He could start teasing you or making you cum in the morning and still drag orgasms out of you by the end of the night. It’s about pacing. He’ll have you bounce on his fingers, cum on his tongue, then he’ll fuck you doggy in front of a mirror and after cuddling you while idly playing with your nipples for almost an hour he’ll be hard again and have you ride him, and on and on and on and on…

What doesn’t turn Dazai on? He’s a simple man. You could walk into the room, flash him your tits, and his dick will literally spring to life. Just look at him and say “I want to have sex. Do you?” and his balls twitch. He likes when you’re confident and when you pretend to be a sweet little innocent thing for him to wreck. He likes you in clothes and out of them. He thinks it’s hot when you say something smart. He thinks it’s hot when you use your ability. He’s so smitten by everything you do.

He can be unfair as fuck in bed. It’s not even funny. Yes, his policy is that you will cum by the time he’s done, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to cum fast, or even as many times as he does. He’ll edge you for literal hours meanwhile he’s cum so many times he’s literally shooting blanks. He’ll edge you for so long and so intensely that when he finally says “okay, you can cum” and he flicks his tongue over your clit, you bust almost instantly. He was the Port Mafia’s best interrogator, remember? He knows how to make someone squirm and now he uses it to sexually torment you.

Volume: HIGH. He’s loud in bed and he wants you to be too. If his neighbors (sorry, Kunikida and Ranpo!!) aren’t sending him angry texts to shut the fuck up or buy them noise-cancelling headphones as an apology, he must not be doing a good enough job and he needs to up the ante! He doesn’t try to be loud, he just lets his body do whatever it wants, and what it wants is to moan and shout and yell. He makes you do it, too, telling you that his neighbors can’t hear it (lies). He loves when you scream after he’s edged you for so long. He wants your screams of pleasure to drown out all the memories of screams of torture that he used to cause.

The most out of pocket sexual wild-card that Dazai pulls on you is *dramatic drumroll* fucking you in Chuuya’s office. Yeah, after he mentioned it that one time he couldn’t stop thinking about it and so he dragged you to the PM buildings, snuck inside with you, found Chuuya’s executive office and started absolutely going to town on you. You’re honestly kind of scared shitless, but he reminds you that if he falls, the PM goes with him, and you calm down a little…until the office door opens, and Chuuya starts screaming at Dazai for being in here and also What the fuck is wrong with you, I thought you were kidding!! Wait, what? Turns out Dazai not only told Chuuya he was going to fuck you in his office, but he invited Chuuya to join and Chuuya jokingly said “yeah, if you can manage to sneak into my office with some hot babe I’ll tag team her with you,” and shit, here you are (o_o) [i wrote it, click here to read]

Dazai likes watching x-rated videos with you to get ideas. Sometimes the best way to find new positions or find new roleplay ideas is to watch porn together, sooooo… You know he never does work at home, so whenever he has his laptop out it’s gotta be time to cuddle against his side and watch porn like normal people watch reality TV. “Ohh, this one’s labeled ‘sex education’ and it’s called ‘top 10 best sex positions’.” “Do you wanna try wife-cheating-on-husband roleplay?” “I can pretend to be a plumber coming to fix your sink and you can coerce me into sex for payment?”

If you ask Dazai why he’s so obsessed with sex and why it seems to be the only thing he thinks about or wants to do with you, he’ll do some serious self-reflection. He just really desperately yearns for you, and for closeness to you, and he doesn’t really know how to fulfill that so he resorts to sex because the climax of an orgasm definitely gives him a wave of good feelings. Turns out, he likes sitting with you and having deep, serious conversations as well. He feels weird opening up about dark things in his past, but when you do it because you trust him, he realizes he trusts you too and tells you things he’s never told anyone. He learns that he can be close to you without sex (but he’s still a horndog, he still needs it).

Dazai likes fucking you to sleep. He likes imagining the little zZzZz floating out of your mouth when you’re still spread out on the bed, naked, sweat still drying on your skin, pussy still glistening with cum and wetness as your exhausted body makes you sleep after finally cumming after hours of play. He always tries to tell you that if you close your eyes after you cum, you’re going to fall asleep, but you never heed his warning and it happens all the time. He just lays with you and takes a little power nap <3

#ask answered #dazai smut #dazai x reader #dazai headcanons #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd headcanons #bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs headcanons #technically also chuuya headcanons #technically also chuuya x reader

[fcthots]

thinking about childhood best friends to lovers jason. who spent hours in the school library with you, laughing and whispering over textbooks. who took you to prom, because you didn’t have a date and definitely not because he was in love with you. who let you drive his car when you got your license. who refused to let you take the bus as soon as he could drive.

jason, who only applied to colleges you also applied to, so that he wouldn’t have to go to school without you. who convinced bruce to let him have an apartment off-campus, so you could stay with him. who made sure he was in all the same classes as you. who made sure you were never out alone after dark. who helped you study for all of your exams. who took care of you when the flu was going around campus.

jason, who never lets you move out. who reads to you when you get home from a long day at work, your head in his lap. who washes your makeup off for you when you’re too tired. who cooks for you every night and makes sure you have coffee ready when you get up every morning.

jason, who finally asks you out over breakfast one morning. who takes you on dates every friday night. who never misses an anniversary or birthday, who takes you out every valentine’s day. who never shuts up about how lucky he is to have you to anyone who will listen.

- 🍓 (apologies for how long this is, i’m sick and have been thinking extensively)

NO ANON BC I HAVE BEEN DAYDREAMING ABOUT THIS ALL DAY

but I've been angsting it.

Because you pick colleges together, but he never gets to go. He lets you drive in his $200,000 car that you were always scared of scratching, but he would reassure you and say he'd fix any damage. That same car was left unused for years. He takes you to prom and you keep the flowers, but you end up leaving the dead flowers at his grave. You would look at two-bedroom apartments together and now you're moving into a single bedroom apartment in the building you always wanted to live in together. He used to write you notes in class which would almost get you caught. Now you wished you saved those notes. The books he used to read to you, you now can't hear quotes from, lest you start crying. He used to help you study for everything and now you swear you don't know how to study alone.

Jason was with you practically every second of every day. What are you supposed to do without him. It's not that there's just a hole in your life. The center of your universe is gone.

#Sorry for angsting this. I was watching sad tiktoks all day and I made myself cry so I had to apply it to Jason #also leave as many asks as u want babe!! #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #saph’s love letters #jason todd #red hood #jason todd imagine #saph’s thots #red hood imagine #jason todd x you #🍓 anon #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader angst #red hood angst #red hood x reader angst #angst #hurt/no comfort

[phillydilly]

been loving the way u write. i have been having thoughs and i needed to share. what if hannah schmidt and gianpiero (gp) were one person and was dating max. like y/n became max's engineer/stratgeist in 2021 and got him and red bull the 2021-2023 championships. they're like the ultimate rb racing and f1 couple.

other wags supporting their boys while y/n gets her boy wins. i just imagine them going on the podium together and max constantly saying 'our wins' and 'our accomplishments' like partners on and off track. plus the radio bickering- literally old married couple / mom and dad are fighting but momma knows best

Driven by Love

⊹♡— In which Max falls in love with his new radio engineer and strategist

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Authors note: This idea was genius! I am so sorry this took so long to write, this request has been sitting in my inbox for a while. I’ve been really busy recently and so I worked on this story slower than usual. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it!

The Formula 1 paddock buzzed with anticipation as Max Verstappen welcomed a new radio engineer, Y/n, after GP's retirement. The Red Bull Racing team had kept Y/n's arrival a well-guarded secret, adding an air of mystery. Y/n, known for her brilliance and strategic prowess, was about to meet Max for the first time, a moment highly anticipated by the entire team.

Upon entering the garage, Max was a mix of curiosity and nervousness, having heard of Y/n's accomplishments. However, nothing had prepared him for her captivating presence. When Max finally met Y/n, her charm momentarily overshadowed his shyness.

Y/n, with a welcoming smile, extended her hand. "Max Verstappen, I presume?"

Max, his nervousness evident in his voice, responded, "Yes, that's me. You're Y/n, right?"

She nodded, her eyes gleaming with intelligence. "Indeed. I've extensively studied your driving data, and I'm thrilled to work with you."

Max, though slightly flustered, managed to speak. "That's great. I've heard incredible things about your strategies."

Y/n chuckled softly, finding Max's shyness endearing. "Let's see if we can continue the winning streak."

The team members around them exchanged knowing glances, aware of the unspoken tension. Max cleared his throat, striving to regain professionalism. "Yes, let's do that."

As they discussed the race strategy, Max found himself drawn to Y/n's intelligence and expertise. Y/n, on the other hand, was amused by Max's shyness, although they both understood the need for a strictly professional relationship.

As the meeting concluded, Y/n extended her hand again. "Looking forward to a successful partnership, Max."

Max shook her hand, feeling a mix of excitement. "Likewise, Y/n. Let's win some races."

₊.˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

As the racing season continued, Max and Y/n had been secretly dating for months, a relationship they cherished but kept hidden due to Y/n's fear of losing her job. Max knew he raced better with her by his side. Their bond was undeniable and reflected in their interactions during races.

During a race, Max received advice from Y/n about tire temperatures, and their playful bickering over the radio was evident, creating a unique dynamic.

Their hidden love story remained concealed, but their on-track partnership was undeniable. It was a bond they cherished, even if they couldn't openly acknowledge it.

As the racing season continued, Max and Y/n had been secretly dating for months, a relationship they cherished but kept hidden due to Y/n's fear of losing her job. Max knew he raced better with her by his side. Their bond was undeniable and reflected in their interactions during races.

Their hidden love story remained concealed, but their on-track partnership was undeniable. It was a bond they cherished, even if they couldn't openly acknowledge it.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

At the team's headquarters, the atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation. Max and Y/n had gathered their colleagues in the briefing room, where they usually discussed race strategies and reviewed data. The room fell silent as Max and Y/n stepped to the front of the room, holding hands.

Their colleagues exchanged knowing glances, smirking and exchanging nods as they anticipated what Max and Y/n were about to share. It was clear that their secret was no longer a secret.

Max cleared his throat and began, "Hey, everyone, we've got something important to share today."

Y/n smiled nervously and added, "Yeah, it's been a secret for a while, but we think it's time you all know."

The room was filled with grins and a few chuckles. Sarah, a fellow team member, couldn't help but tease, "Are you two getting married? Is this an engagement announcement?"

Max and Y/n shared an amused glance. Max replied, "Not quite, Sarah, but it's about our relationship."

Y/n continued, "We've been dating for a while now, and I'm sure most of you have figured it out by now. We're not as subtle as we thought."

Christian laughed and said, "Well, it's about time you made it official. We've known for a while, and honestly, it was about time you came clean."

Their colleagues chimed in with good-natured comments, expressing their support and happiness for the couple. It was a moment of relief for Max and Y/n, knowing that their colleagues had not only known about their relationship but had embraced it all along.

The room erupted into applause and congratulations as their colleagues celebrated the couple's decision to be open about their relationship. Max and Y/n exchanged relieved smiles, feeling that they had finally acknowledged what everyone had known for some time.

Max stated, "Thank you, everyone, for understanding. We're excited to share this part of our lives with all of you."

Y/n added, "We're still committed to giving our best on and off the track. And together, we're even stronger."

Their colleagues applauded once more, and it was clear that Max and Y/n's relationship had only strengthened their connection with the team, making it an even tighter-knit racing family.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The final race of the season had arrived, and the world watched in anticipation as Max Verstappen found himself tied on points for the championship with Lewis Hamilton. It was a nail-biting showdown, and the pressure was immense.

In the early morning before the race, Max and Y/n found a quiet moment alone in the garage. Y/n looked into Max's eyes and smiled. "You've got this, Max. I believe in you."

Max, taking Y/n's hand, replied, "I couldn't have done any of this without you. You make me a better driver and a better person."

Their moment was interrupted by the team's race engineer, who reminded them it was almost time to head to the grid. Max and Y/n shared a quick, reassuring kiss before going their separate ways.

As the race began, the tension was palpable. Max and Lewis traded positions, battling for every inch of the track. Y/n was on the radio, providing crucial information and guidance to Max. During a pit stop, she couldn't help but playfully tease him, saying, "Max, you're not making this easy on me, are you?"

Max chuckled through the radio, "Well, you do love a challenge, don't you?"

Their playful banter provided a brief moment of relief amidst the intense competition. But as the laps ticked by, Max knew he had to give it his all.

In the final laps, Max and Lewis were neck and neck, the championship hanging in the balance. It was a thrilling battle, and the world watched in suspense. Y/n's voice was a steady presence in Max's earpiece, providing him with valuable information.

Then, with a daring overtaking maneuver, Max surged ahead and crossed the finish line as the race winner. The crowd erupted, and Y/n's voice crackled over the radio, "MAX, YOU ARE THE WORLD CHAMPION!"

Max, with joy in his voice, corrected her, "WE ARE WORLD CHAMPIONS!"

The cheers of the entire team resonated over the radio as Max celebrated his championship victory. The world now knew about their relationship, and they couldn't have been happier. Max and Y/n had not only won the championship, but they had also won the hearts of racing fans worldwide, proving that love and success could go hand in hand on the track.

#max Verstappen #max Verstappen imagine #max Verstappen one shot #max Verstappen x you #max Verstappen x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 smut #max Verstappen smut #max Verstappen x y/n #formula 1 x female reader #max Verstappen x female reader

[wheeboo]

psycho | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind. PAIRING. wen junhui x psychologist!reader (ft. nurse!seokmin) GENRE. dark au, mystery, angst, a tiny tiny subtle pinch of fluff, my very first attempt at a psychological thriller :> WARNINGS. LOTS of descriptions and talks about fire, cursing, mentions of death, a mention of cigarettes, descriptions of scars + burns, descriptions of injuries from glass, mention of blood, reader has a small habit of scratching at their arms, jun makes a suggestive comment if you take it that way WORD COUNT. 12.8k

notes: this is for the caratsland event and probably the most complex plot i've tried to execute so far jsdlkfdfsdf. thank you to @slytherinshua for reading this over for me and being my lil confidence boost 💕 feedback would be much appreciated!! pls remember this is all fictional and not at all an accurate depiction of a psychiatric facility!!

another note: also this turned out to be rlly dialogue heavy and jun asks too many damn questions in this istg lmao

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Dr. L/N, you have a new patient assigned to you in room 610."

You don't glance up from your desk. Instead, you finish reviewing the case notes of your previous patient and nod in acknowledgment to the nurse standing in your doorway, a friendly young man named Lee Seokmin who was a recent hire, as you were told. As you hear the drop of a patient file in front of you, you lean back in your chair and finally get yourself to look up.

"Thank you, Seokmin," You tell him with a soft smile.

Seokmin grins, teeth all-flashy and cheerful. "You're welcome, doctor," before dismissing himself back out of your office.

You turn your attention to the patient file now resting on your desk. As you start to read through the notes, you see it only contains some basic information about the patient: name, age, and a brief overview of their medical and psychiatric history. It's a starting point, but you know that the real work begins when you meet the person behind the paperwork.

"Name, Moon Jun... male, age 27..." You quietly study the file to yourself. The file mentions a history of severe emotional trauma and burn scars due to a fire, which immediately catches your attention in more ways than one. It also mentions extensive facial scarring and a history of therapy that completely lacked significant progress. A part of it is a familiar story in your field𑁋it isn't uncommon for individuals to experience setbacks in their recovery.

But there's something about this patient's history that tugs oddly at your heartstrings.

As you rummage deeper into the file, you come across a brief note from a colleague who had previously assessed Moon Jun, mentioning he had been withdrawn and non-communicative during his stay, displaying anti-social behaviour, sometimes even having random bursts of aggression when approached. You take a mental note of all this in your head.

Closing the patient file, you rise from your chair and adjust the white coat draped around you, before leaving your office. You make your way through the sterile, fluorescent-lit hallways of the psychiatric facility. The environment here is all-too familiar to you; you've spent years navigating these halls. With every door you pass, there hides a different story; a different struggle; a different battle.

Upon finally reaching the room, you hesitate outside the door for a moment. The anticipation and curiosity surrounding you mixes with a touch of uncertainty, almost like fear, as they often do when meeting a new patient. You've been doing this for nearly ten years, and the feeling isn't new.

Then as you come back to your senses, you lift a hand, give a gentle knock to the door, before entering the room. It's dimly lit inside, the curtains ominously drawn on the windows to conceal the sunlight peeking through. A figure sits at the edge of the bed, back turned to you, and the hood of his hoodie pulled low over his head worn over his patient gown.

"Moon... Jun?" You call out softly, trying not to startle him.

He doesn't respond immediately, shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice. After a moment of silence, he slowly turns his head to acknowledge your presence. Half of his face is obscured by a mask, leaving only his dark eyes visible.

"Doctor," he replies gravelly.

His gaze lingers on you as you take a seat in a chair that sat against the wall next to the bed, keeping a respectful distance from him. You've encountered many patients who have initially shown distrust or apprehension, but there's an intensity in the way he looks at you that sends something chilling on the surface of your skin, especially when it's the only part of his face that you can see.

You try to break the ice with a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Moon. My name is Dr. Y/N, and I'll be conducting our therapy sessions during your stay here. Please, make yourself as comfortable as you can."

He slowly nods, but his eyes never leave yours. The mask covering his face makes it difficult to read his expressions.

"Before we begin," You continue, clearing your throat. "I want you to know that this is a safe and confidential space. Our conversations are private, and I'm here to help you in any way I can𑁋to help you heal. You can share as much or as little as you're comfortable with."

You see the way his gloved hands clench together in his lap.

"I can't be healed," he mutters quietly, voice trembling as you sense the hopelessness in his tone. You've heard this phrase many times before during your career.

"I understand that you may feel that way right now," You reply, as soothingly as possible. "but I believe that with time and the right support, healing is possible for anyone. It's a journey, and I'm here to walk it with you. It's a process, and you don't have to go through it alone."

His gaze remains fixed on you, and the unsettling tension in the room lingers, almost palpable that you feel like there's an imaginary barrier between you and him that was enough for you to see this small part of him, while he can see all of you.

"Would you like to tell me a little bit about yourself? How do you feel coming here today?" You ask, hoping to begin the process of establishing some sort of connection.

He uncomfortably shifts a bit on the bed.

"I never wanted to come here," he says flatly. "They say this is a place of healing, but I've seen enough doctors like you. They prod and poke, dig into your past, and in the end, nothing changes. They don't know what I've been through, what I've seen. The scars, everything, they don't heal."

The words that leave his mouth are bitter and sour, yet you could only get yourself to nod sympathetically.

"It's not uncommon for people to feel that way, especially if they haven't found the right support. I want you to know that my approach is different. I'm here to listen, not to prod or poke." You glance down at the file in your hand and flip it over so that you couldn't see any information about him. "You're in control of our sessions, Mr. Moon. We can go at whatever pace you'd like."

He finally seems intrigued by this, leaning in ever so slightly, eyes devoid of colour that seemed to bore straight into yours.

"Control?" he repeats, voice still carrying a hint of skepticism.

You nod once more. "Yes, control. You get to decide what you want to talk about, what you're comfortable sharing, and at what pace. If there are topics you'd like to avoid or take your time with, that's completely okay. We can work together to create a safe space for you."

He seems to be taking in your words. "And... what if I choose not to talk at all?"

You offer a reassuring smile. "Then that's the option we can settle with."

The minutes that tick by seem dreadingly slow, and there's a light that dances in his eyes from the singular light fixture hanging above that almost resembles that of a flame. It doesn't go away even if he blinks, and it draws you in. Just a tiny bit.

"However, is there anything specific you'd like to share with me today, Mr. Moon?" You ask, trying to keep the conversation flowing. "Any thoughts or concerns you'd like to discuss?"

For a moment, it seems like he's about to speak, but then he shakes his head ever so slightly, his hooded gaze still locked onto yours.

"Very well then." You let out a very subtle, shaky breath. It felt almost relieving. Silence it is.

That's what most of the session has come to𑁋sitting in this peculiar silence, feeling his eyes burn a hole right through you. It isn't until the end of the hour that he calls out toward you just as you were about to his exit his room, and you turn back to face him.

"Can you heal me, doctor?" he asks quietly, almost begging in a way. It's unnerving.

All you do is give him a faint smile.

"I'll try my best, Mr. Moon."

FLASHBACK: 2013

"...All I could see were orange and red flames, and the smoke was hurting my eyes. I couldn't breathe𑁋just barely, but it hurt. It was painful. They were getting larger and larger and the screams louder and louder. Everything was gone."

"And what did you do while the fire kept growing?"

"I watched it all happen. I watched it all burn in front of me." The words had sent an eerie shiver up your spine, forcing the pen in your hands to stop mid-sentence. There was a singular pause that had come to follow, a harrowing silence that seemed to stretch into eternity, a subtle quiver in his voice that you barely caught. "There was nothing I could do."

You clicked your pen, its sound echoing in the tense silence. The room seemed to grow colder with each moment that passed.

"But it's all my fault, right?" he had asked, tone so innocent that it itches a part of your heart uncomfortably, but tugged in a way you felt determined to take root of the grief in his chest and rip it apart. And for a moment as you looked in his dark eyes, over his youthful features and guilt-ridden face, you felt that inkling feeling again. "I killed them. It's all my fault."

"None of this is your fault. Blaming yourself for something you couldn't control is a heavy burden to carry," You reassured him calmly, as gently as you could, knowing the power that your own words could cause for someone seemingly lost, troubled, and young. "You saved yourself. You're alive; you did what you could to survive, and you're here to heal. I'm here to help you heal, okay?"

Your reassurance was met with a fleeting smile, but it hadn't quite reach his eyes, yet his gaze peered directly into you as if searching for something in you𑁋you could only think it was hope. Hope that he wanted to heal just as much as you wanted to help him heal. It's your job. This was why you took this job in the first place.

You needed to save people, either from the demons in their minds or the traumas that haunted them. This boy had lost his entire family in a housefire, for God's sake. This was your duty.

"It's not my fault," he had said, and met your eyes, as if searching for approval. "It's not my fault."

"That's right, Hui." You offered him a faint, assuring smile. "It's not your fault."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

"Excuse me, Dr. L/N? Is it okay if I sit here?"

You glance up to see Seokmin holding up a tray of lunch food, returning you from your zoning thoughts. You shoot him a kind smile and a nod, motioning to the empty space across from you for him to have a seat. Usually, you frequently have lunch alone in the comfort of your office where you can tend to yourself in solitude, but today, you might as well welcome the company.

Seokmin sets his tray down and takes a seat, and for some minutes, there's a comfortable silence as you both begin to eat. He seems to notice the tired lines to your face, but he doesn't press on about it.

"Have you been settling in well?" You ask him suddenly, breaking the silence.

"Huh, me? Oh." He's a bit taken aback, cheeks flushed, and you give a soft chuckle. "You could say that. I wanted to try something new after working bedside for the longest time. I didn't think that psych would be a field I was interested in𑁋look where I am now, though."

"That's the thing about this field." You let out a sigh, giving a knowing smile. "It has a way of drawing you in, even if you didn't plan on it."

"It was definitely an experience when I was in nursing school," Seokmin comments eagerly. You felt as if you were talking to a close friend rather than another colleague, and it feels rather refreshing. "and doing ICU was already draining of itself."

You take a sip of your drink, nodding your head. "I can only imagine. It can be quite rigorous."

Seokmin lets his gaze wander over you curiously. "How long have you worked here, doctor?"

"Please, you can just call me Y/N. Unless we're working."

Seokmin smiles. "How long have you worked here then, Y/N?"

You pause for a moment. Thinking about the amount of years you've worked in this field hasn't been a particular thought to come up𑁋time just seems to fly by when it's the only job you've been dedicated to for most of your life.

"Hm, ten years now? I believe this month will mark my ten years here."

Seokmin's eyes visibly widen in awe before responding, "Wow, that's... You must have really seen a lot of things. I really envy you, doctor."

Your smile fades just a bit; it's barely noticeable, though you still hope that Seokmin doesn't see it. You can feel that feeling gnaw at your skin again, something inexplicable, like a sense of foreboding that seemed to be creaking open a door you believed to have firmly shut for good.

But you choose to push it aside, just like you always do, dismissing it perfectly with a mutter of a thank you. It's ironic, considering this is what you do𑁋normally you would tell patients to confront their past and face their fears, but when it comes to your own, you tend to bury them.

There's an itch that crawls up your arms, and you knead at it through your sleeves with your fingers.

Maybe you can get used to this company, though.

"Do you have any kids, doctor?"

The question comes after a click of your pen, and you glance up from the vitals sheet in your hand to see Moon Jun sitting criss-crossed on the bed, gloved hands sitting on his lap and pupils peering curiously over you.

"No, Mr. Moon," You reply, keeping your tone soft, somewhat nonchalant. "I don't have any children."

He tilts his head slightly, almost as if he's studying you like a specimen under a microscope. The mask on his face makes him appear even more enigmatic, his dark, even charming eyes the only feature you can discern.

"No family at all?" he asks. "No husband, wife, or children to go home to?"

"I live alone. My work keeps me quite occupied."

Some silence passes.

"Alone," he repeats, almost to himself, as if savouring the word in his mouth. "Don't you ever feel... lonely though?"

His question hangs in the air like a dark cloud. It's an oddly personal inquiry, but you decide to address it professionally. "Loneliness is a feeling that many people experience at different points in their lives. It's a normal human emotion, and it's something we can work through."

His gaze narrows, and his gloved fingers twitch in his lap. His mask conceals most of his facial expressions, but you can sense an intensity in his gaze.

"I've felt lonely my entire life, you know," he points out as you sit yourself down in the chair in front of him just like all your previous sessions. Despite the considerable space between you two, sometimes you swear you can feel him breathing right down your neck. "Even being in here too, it.... feels like a different kind of loneliness. A place where they put people who are broken. Like me."

"I can assure you that you are not broken, Mr. Moon," You tell him reassuringly. "How are you with meeting the other patients here? Are there any you have been interacting with since our last session?"

He leans back slightly, his gloved hands still resting on his lap, and his gaze seems to drift momentarily as if he's recalling something.

"I think... they are scared of me, to be honest," he answers, eyes crinkling just slightly as if there was a smile playing on his lips right below his mask. "But... perhaps they're all just lost, confused, and weak. They pretend to get better, but they're just putting on a show. It's a bit pathetic, don't you think?"

"It's not uncommon for people in this environment to have their guard up," You tell him. "Sometimes, it's just a reaction to the unfamiliar. Everyone here is dealing with their own battles, just as you are, Mr. Moon."

He chuckles lowly at that. It's the first time you've heard such a sound like that leave his mouth, like a dissonant note echoing in an otherwise quiet room. His masked face gives nothing away.

"Maybe it's because of this stupid mask on my face," he says, touching the mask with the tips of his fingers. "It makes me look like a criminal or a monster."

"The mask might be intimidating to some," You acknowledge, crossing your arms together. "but it doesn't define who you are."

His eyes narrow slightly, though there's that twinge of amusement as he crosses his arms together, mirroring your body language.

"You're not scared of me, right, doctor?"

You meet his steady gaze, his own searching yours from behind the mask. There's a moment of silence, something unspoken lingering in the air.

"No, Mr. Moon, I'm not scared of you," You respond, keeping yourself composed. "I'm here to understand you."

He leans back, that hint of amusement still present on his face.

"I think you would make a great parent, doctor."

The unexpected compliment catches you off-guard for a moment, making you briefly at a loss for words. There's a slight blush that crawls up your cheeks, and you clear your throat, trying to regain your composure.

"Thank you." You give an appreciative smile. "That's very kind of you to say."

You see that flickering flame in his pupils again. It's a fire that seems to burn brighter with each passing minute, and it leaves you both intrigued and uneasy.

FLASHBACK: 2013

"I told you not to call me that!" Hui exclaimed angrily in frustration, his face turning a shade of red as he glared at you. The sudden outburst had caught you off-guard, and for a moment, found yourself at a loss for words. His face contorted with volatile frustration, and his hands clenched into fists.

"I apologise," You said calmly, doing your best to defuse the situation. "I didn't mean to upset you. What would you like me to call you then?"

He took a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself down. His shoulders slumped, and his expression softened slightly.

"Just call me by my nickname, okay?" he urged, voice a tad less sharp now, but it's still enough to pierce. "Hui is fine. I hate my name! It's ugly. I want to forget about it𑁋I want everyone to forget about it! That name doesn't exist anymore, got it?"

"Of course, I understand." You leaned back forward in your chair, slow and cautiously. "But I want you to tell me why you stole crayons from Chaewon earlier in the rec room."

Hui only scoffed in response. "It's not that big of a deal. I only took a few from her. She'll forget about it."

"You took something from someone else without permission, Hui," You explained matter-of-factly. "That's a violation of their personal space and boundaries."

Hui's focus darted around the room for a moment, lips pursed and fingers messing around with the frays of his hospital gown. Then his gaze hardened once more as he landed back on you. His silence was almost unsettling as it stretched between you, but you remained patient, waiting for him to offer an explanation.

"Fine, whatever," he muttered, finally relenting. "I wanted them for a project I'm working on, that's all."

"A project? What kind of project?"

"Back in group therapy... They wanted us to create something meaningful or something𑁋something that means a lot to us, and I needed the crayons for it. So I took them from her."

It took a couple of moments before you nodded, acknowledging his explanation. "I see, Hui. It's important to express yourself through art or projects, but it's also important to respect others' belongings. Try asking for what you need instead of taking it without permission, okay?"

Hui's response was a simple, noncommittal nod, eyes holding onto yours a moment too long.

"Now, the next time you're back in the rec room, please say sorry to Chaewon whenever you see her, okay?"

Again, all he did was nod begrudgingly, his expression showing a hint of reluctance.

"Good." You gave him a proud smile. "That's all for today. Tell me about your project next session, alright?"

You felt his eyes on you as you grabbed your case notes and stood up, before leaving him in his room. And even though you were out of his room, you swore you could still feel the weight of his gaze on you.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

You find Moon Jun sitting on the edge of the bed once entering inside of his room, gloved hands folded neatly in his lap. The mask obscures his face as usual, but his dark eyes lock onto yours the moment you walk inside. The dim lighting in the room casts long shadows on the walls, and you find yourself drawn into those shadows as you take a seat across from him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Moon," You greet warmly, taking your usual seat across from him. "How has your day been so far?"

He doesn't immediately respond. There's a hint of curiosity in his hooded eyes, but it's devoid of warmth. It's subtle, almost imperceptible, but you've learned to pay attention to the smallest details when dealing with patients over the years. It still sends a shiver down your spine.

"Just been like any other day in this place," he finally replies coolly.

You offer a polite smile and proceed with the session. "Is there anything specific you'd like to discuss for today's session, Mr. Moon?"

He thinks for a moment, tapping his gloved fingers lightly against his knee. The rhythmic sound seems to echo in the room.

"Are you interested in mythology, doctor?" he asks, and the question was certainly something you didn't expect him to ask. He continues, "I've always had an interest in it growing up, so I was wondering if you did too."

You chuckle quietly. "I wish I could say the same, but... I guess I found it intriguing at times."

"Surely you must have heard some stories though." He giggles at this, unclasping his hands together and propping himself right at the edge of the bed so that he's leaning forward, his masked face closer to yours. The dim light makes it hard to see his features clearly, and the shadows in the room seem to grow darker, more pronounced. "Are you familiar with the creature, the phoenix?"

You pause for a moment to think, before giving a slow, careful nod. "I've... definitely heard of it."

"The phoenix," he murmurs, voice a soft, hypnotic cadence. "It's a beautiful creature of rebirth and fire, isn't it?"

The mention of fire makes you shift slightly in your seat.

"Mr. Moon, I'm not entirely sure where you're𑁋"

You're interrupted as he leans even closer, his masked face now mere inches from yours, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intense and unsettling focus. The shadows play tricks on your vision, making it feel like the walls are closing in on you.

"I just find it fascinating," he continues. "The idea of burning away the old and rising from the ashes anew. It's like a fresh start, a chance to be reborn. Do you believe in second chances, doctor?"

You swallow the lump in your throat. His intense gaze, shrouded by the mask, seems to hold you almost captive and confined to the chair you sat on, and his words seem to echo in the confined space.

"I... I believe that everyone deserves a chance to heal and grow, Mr. Moon," You respond carefully, trying to regain your composure. "But it's also important to work through the past before embracing the future."

He tilts his head slightly, as if considering your words. The room remains eerily quiet, the shadows deepening around you.

"Do you believe people can truly change?" he asks, voice softer now, almost pleading.

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question sitting right on your chest.

"I believe that change is possible, Mr. Moon," You reply gently, choosing your words with care. "People have the capacity to grow and evolve, and to make choices that lead to a more positive outlook. But this varies from person to person𑁋if they are willing to put in the effort to do so."

For a moment, the tension in the room seems to dissipate slightly. The shadows on the walls appear to retreat, and the dim light feels less suffocating.

"Doctor," he finally speaks, voice low despite only being the two of you in the room, like he's telling you a secret. "what if... those flames of the past have burned too brightly, leaving nothing but ashes behind?"

You furrow your brows. "I-I would say𑁋"

"It's what happened to me, doctor, don't you understand?" he snaps suddenly, standing up from the bed to step closer to you. "You can't possibly understand what it's like to fucking lose everything, to watch it all burn in front of your fucking eyes! This is why I did this𑁋I put my life into the phoenix. I burned what was left of me, and now I'm here, in this absolute hellhole."

"Mr. Moon, I need you to calm down, please𑁋"

There's a flash of anger that shoots through his eyes, the flame burning in his pupils brighter than before. The atmosphere grows tense in the snap of a finger, and you instinctively stand up to bring yourself in the direction of the door to the room, maintaining a safe distance, acutely aware of the limited space and the fact that you're alone with him. There's an emergency button within reach where you can call for help whenever needed.

You can't get yourself to respond, feeling frozen from the way you can feel your heart pounding anxiously in your chest from his close proximity. He takes a step back, his hands trembling slightly as he clenches and unclenches them. The room seems to regain a semblance of normalcy, but the tension still lingers in the air, and you still can't move.

You watch as he cowers back towards the bed, leaving you standing next to the door. You felt as if you've been holding your breath, like you were submerged underwater and your fight or flight instincts were kicking in.

"You won't give up on me, right, doctor?" he asks, and the way he says it so weakly, naively, makes your head spin. "You can trust me, right?"

You smooth out your white coat, placing yourself back down in the seat across from him anticipatingly.

"I... I trust you," You mutter meekly. "I won't give up on you."

The corner of his eyes crinkle again. He's smiling. You can see it through the mask.

"How lovely," he states sweetly. "We're on the right track, then."

"Y/N𑁋I mean Dr. L/N, are you okay?" Seokmin's voice comes up from behind as you walk yourself towards your office, feeling completely and utterly scatterbrained from the events of the past hour.

As Seokmin's voice reaches your ears, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. You turn to Seokmin and offer him a reassuring smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes, but seeing him in front of you already makes you feel a tad bit better.

"I'm fine, Seokmin, thank you." Your voice carries a hint of exhaustion and residual unease. "Just a challenging session, but I'm okay."

Seokmin just nods, but as you were about to turn around, he says, "If you... uh, ever need someone to talk to or anything, just know I'm here for you, okay? It can be tough, I've heard."

You smile gratefully at him, this time genuinely reaching your eyes. It feels like a breath of fresh air talking to him.

"Thank you," You tell him. "I might just have to take you up on that someday."

Seokmin scratches the back of his neck shyly and returns your smile with a warm one of his own. "Well, you know where to find me."

You stand still for a moment as Seokmin begins to dismiss himself away to resume his rounds, but just then, you feel a sudden idea pop up in your head.

"Seokmin, wait!" You exclaim after the man, who immediately turns around to the sound of your voice, peering at you worriedly. "Actually, there's something... Could you do me a favour?"

His eyes light up curiously. "Sure, what do you want me to do?"

You step up closer to him, looking around to ensure no one else was listening in.

"Can you help find me more information about the patient in 610?" You lean in, lowering your voice to a hushed tone. "I'd like to know more about his background, more than what's in his file right now, or just anything that might help me understand him better."

Seokmin raises a brow briefly but nods either way. "I'll see what I can do, Dr. L/N."

FLASHBACK: 2013

The rec room was buzzing with activity as you entered, giving a chance for patients to interact with others and engage in activities outside of their rooms. Laughter, conversation, and the occasional burst of youthful energy filled the air; it’s a striking comparison to the somber atmosphere of the individual therapy sessions you usually conducted.

As you glanced around to find Hui, you finally caught sight of the boy sitting alone at a table in the very corner of the room. He appeared seemingly engrossed on the piece of paper in front of him, an array of crayons sat on the table. His focus was so intense that he seemed completely oblivious to the world around him.

You approached Hui's table with a gentle smile. "Hui, how are you doing today?"

Hui looked up from his drawing, eyes meeting yours briefly. "I'm fine," he replied coldly. "Just drawing."

You glanced down at his artwork, which depicted a scene of fire and destruction. The flames consumed a house, while stick-figure people screamed in the windows, their tiny, distorted faces twisted in agony. The only colours there would be that of the orange and red gigantic flame that enveloped the jagged, blackened lines of the house.

"That's... quite a powerful drawing, Hui," You commented as you took a seat right next to him. "What made you choose this subject?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, eyes not leaving his paper. "It's just what I felt like drawing."

"Is this supposed to represent what happened to your family?"

Hui only continued to mindlessly colour his drawing, his crayon moving across the paper with deliberate strokes.

"Maybe," he replied stoically. "I saw it all happen, but I couldn't do anything."

You studied Hui's face for a moment, but his expression remained blank, his focus entirely on the drawing. His mien was calm, almost eerily so, in comparison to the disturbing scene of destruction right below his fingertips.

"Can you tell me more about what you saw, Hui?" You asked him.

He glanced at you briefly, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of something in his eyes. But it was gone so quickly that you couldn't be sure if you had imagined it.

"I already told you," he pressed. "I saw the fire, and I watched everything burn. It wasn't my fault that it happened."

You nodded, acknowledging his words, and continued to watch him work on the drawing.

"Did you ever feel sad about what happened, Hui?" You questioned.

Hui's face only remained impassive as he answered, "It won't change anything."

You could only think about all the trauma he must have endured𑁋from losing his family and being the sole survivor of such a ruinous event, to having to deal with all the emotions at once that it must feel almost numbing inside of him.

"Did anyone help you during or after the fire, Hui?" You prodded calmly.

He still didn't look up from his drawing. "Some firefighters came, and they put out the fire. But they couldn't save my family."

You felt that pang of sympathy for Hui as he mentioned the firefighters' futile attempts to save his family all while he was waiting right outside the house. It was clear that the traumatic experience had locked his emotions away behind a stoic, desensitized façade.

"I'm sorry to hear about your family, Hui," You said softly. "It's completely okay to feel sad or angry about what happened."

Hui's hand paused briefly in its colouring, but he didn't look up. You glanced down to the paper, noticing that he was drawing something in the corner, almost appearing like some sort of bird, like some sort of crow or cardinal.

"I don't feel much about it anymore. It's just the way things are."

Your eyes drift from his drawing, concern deepening, but you understood that emotional numbing was a common coping mechanism for trauma survivors. In a way, it's like a protective shell around oneself to prevent further pain. The emotional scars ran deep, and sometimes, it was easier for them to keep their feelings at bay rather than confront the overwhelming grief and sorrow that lurked beneath the surface.

That is what you attributed with Hui𑁋what you always had when he first came here. And you promised him patience and that it took time to fully heal.

"I'll leave you be now, okay?" You stood up from the seat, giving the young boy a reassuring squeeze to the shoulder.

Hui doesn't respond, still engrossed in his drawing. You took a step back, leaving him to his artwork, and decided to check on some of the other children in the room for the time being.

You swore you could feel his eyes on you as you walked away.

PRESENT DAY: 2023

Your eyes are practically lasering holes right through the manila folder of Moon Jun's file.

The file only houses the basics𑁋his medical history, therapy notes, and observations from the staff. But there's something missing, something you can't quite put your finger on. His background information is limited, and there are no records of any family members or relatives listed. It's as if he appeared out of nowhere.

A knock on your office door makes you jump, and you quickly open your eyes to see Seokmin standing there with a stack of papers in his hands, concern etched on his face.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" he asks, stepping inside your office.

You offer a tired smile. "A bit, but it's okay. Come in."

Seokmin walks further into your office, closing the door lightly behind him. He takes a moment to study your expression, clearly noticing the exhaustion and frustration on your face. You let out a sigh and lean back in your chair, rubbing your temples with your fingertips as Seokmin sits down right across from you.

"So, I tried to do some digging, as you asked." Seokmin places the stack of papers on the desk. "It wasn't easy to look into his medical history, but I think this might be important."

You straighten up in your chair, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten as you lean in to examine the stack of papers Seokmin has brought. However, what you expected is to see information regarding him, but instead, you see news reports.

"I... I don't know if any of these can be related, but I found a few unsolved cases of arson over the years. It might be the cause of his facial scarring," Seokmin explains. "I think one of them happened at an orphanage, another at an abandoned warehouse nearby, and another at a small church a few miles from here."

You carefully pick up one of the articles and start to read the details. The article mentions a fire at an orphanage several years ago that resulted in the tragic loss of lives. The incident remained unsolved, with no clear cause identified. Then you come across another article about the fire at the warehouse, and it, too, was a case that had perplexed investigators, leaving it unsolved.

"...and I also think there was one about a family from around... nine? Ten years ago? I didn't read all the details of it, but I believe only one survived𑁋"

That's when you feel your heart drop all the way down to the ground, into the ground at that point, eyes widening as the gasp that leaves your mouth cuts Seokmin off. You're already standing up, fingers trembling, as you frantically shuffle through the articles he had provided for you.

"Where can I find that one? Is it here?"

Your adamancy surprises Seokmin as he scrambles through the papers before taking one out and offering it to you. You take the article from his hands. The paper is slightly crumpled, and the ink is faded, but the headline is still clear: "Family Tragedy Claims Lives, Sole Survivor Emerges."

The only survivor was a teenage boy, whose name was redacted from the article for privacy.

But you know exactly who it is.

The article describes how he had been found by the firefighters, huddled on the lawn outside the burning house, his eyes blank with shock. Authorities had attempted to investigate, but the case quickly went cold due to lack of evidence. It also mentions that the boy had lost his entire family that night and was assumed to be too traumatised to provide any coherent information about the fire's cause, which later caused him to be sent to a psychiatric facility due to the trauma.

"Doctor, what is this?" Seokmin interrupts your thoughts as he brings up another paper from view.

You glance up from the article to meet Seokmin's gaze, the urgency in his eyes mirroring your own. He unfolds it carefully, and as your eyes scan the headline, your heart sinks further: "Tragic Fire Engulfs Local Psychiatric Facility."

As you read through it, you swear you feel the same flames dancing up the skin of your arms. This article reports a fire that occurred exactly ten years ago at the very psychiatric facility where both you and Seokmin currently work. You were there that night. It was only your first year as a psychologist at the facility, still learning the ropes of your profession. The memories you've long tried to suppress come flooding back.

The sound of alarms blaring, the acrid smell of smoke, the frantic efforts to evacuate patients, and the feeling of utter helplessness as the flames consumed parts of the facility. It had left scars on your soul, scars you thought you had buried deep over the years.

That boy was one of your first ever patients.

Your arms are itching again, and you can almost feel the searing heat from that night a decade ago.

"Y/N, are you... are you okay?" Seokmin asks. You can see the worry in his eyes, but you're not sure if you can answer his question.

You swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to find your voice. "Yeah, I just... Sorry, reading this article, and..."

That's when Seokmin gets it. "Were you..." His eyes lower down to where one of your hands is clawing anxiously at the sleeves of your arm, and he immediately takes away the article from view. "I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I didn't know you were..."

You manage a weak smile as you bring your arms back down to your side, hugging yourself instead. "It's alright. You didn't know."

Seokmin doesn't seem entirely convinced, for a moment feeling stuck on what to say. "Are you sure that you're up for this? We can always𑁋"

"Yes," You say boldly. "It'll be okay."

You take a deep breath.

"I'll be okay."

"You seem troubled today, doctor."

In the dimly lit room, Moon Jun's observation is shrewd as always, whose calculating eyes seem to analyse every twitch of your expression as you both sit in the room together, right across from each other, with him hovering over you while you felt feeling like a cowering mouse trapped in a cage.

You flash him a faint, grateful smile. "I appreciate your concern, but let's focus back on you now, shall we?"

"Uh-uh, doctor," he taunts, crossing his arms together and shaking his head dismissively. Even in the darkness of the room, you swear you see his lips curl into a smirk under that damn mask of his. "If I'm not mistaken, you said at the very beginning that I have control over what I want to talk about in our sessions. I realise I hardly know anything about you! Isn't that funny? I consider you a dear friend, you know. You're the only person in this place who even makes the effort to talk with me."

The weight of his words suspend like a dense fog. You can hear the faint hum of the ventilation system, see the way the lone light fixture in the room seems to flicker intermittently. It plays tricks on your perception, making his features appear to morph and shift, all while his eyes are practically dissecting you.

"Friendship... is built on trust," You reply cautiously. "But our sessions are designed for your benefit. My role here is to help you, not the other way around, and my personal life is not relevant for this."

He leans in closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you can feel his intense focus like a physical weight. You're caught in the gravitational pull of his eyes, his relentless gaze that seems to strip away your defenses. "But, doctor, how can you truly help me if you don't open up a little?"

He tilts his head, the mask inches away from your face, his eyes boring into yours.

"We could be more than what we are right now, couldn't we, doctor?" he whispers, feeling his cold breath against your skin even through the mask, and you close your eyes. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before𑁋"

"Stop! Please!" You yell out unexpectedly, hearing nothing but the unsteadiness of your breaths and the echo of your own voice in the dim room. Your eyes snap back open; he's not hovering over you, and the disturbing scenario you had just experienced was nothing more than a figment of your imagination.

Instead, Moon Jun is calmly seated away from you, watching you intently from the bed. There's a curious glint in his eyes, one that suggests he's found your reaction to be rather... entertaining.

"Doctor, you do seem to be quite troubled today," he remarks almost playfully, voice dripping with amusement that shoots goosebumps up your skin. "Seeing things, aren't we?"

You can't quite find the words to respond, and the sensation of his cold breath against your skin still lingers in your memory.

"You must think about me a lot, day and night possibly, if you imagine such things," he teases, and you feel the way his words crawl under your skin. "You probably wonder what lies behind this mask of mine, don't you? You're a special friend𑁋perhaps you deserve to see it."

You watch the way his gloved fingers toy with the edges of his mask, and for a moment, it seems like he's contemplating something. The room is so silent that you can hear your own heart pounding in your chest.

Then without warning, he reaches up and slowly starts to peel off the mask, revealing the face hidden beneath. Your breath catches in your throat as his visage is unveiled.

His face is tainted by a network of scars, the skin tissue looking raw and discoloured. The scars extend from his jawline up to his cheeks and forehead, giving his face an almost grotesque and nightmarish appearance. Some scars look like they were caused by something sharp, while others appear more like burns. There were also some that seemed almost... fresher than others. His lips, once hidden by the mask, are twisted into a smirk that sends shivers down your spine.

"You wanted to see, didn't you, doctor?" he asks, voice low and taunting. "You wanted to know what's behind this mask."

You can't tear your gaze away from his disfigured face, and you're overwhelmed by a mix of curiosity, horror, and a strange fascination.

"Are you surprised, doctor?" he continues, voice now tinged with mockery. "Do I look like a monster to you?"

You can't seem to respond just yet, eyes still peering over him as if trying to discern the features of his face. There's this wave of familiarity that seems to hit you, as if you've seen those certain details before. A nagging feeling tugs at the corners of your memory like a half-forgotten dream.

You squint, trying to connect the dots between the disfigured face before you and the dim recollection buried deep within your mind. The way the scars twist and curl, the faint traces of burn marks𑁋it's all so eerily and hauntingly familiar. You swear you've seen those eyes before. He watches your expression closely, as if he can read your thoughts, and those eyes that seem to follow your every move, your every thought𑁋

And then it hits you. It hits you like a freight train on the tracks that was beyond avoidable. It hits you like a tidal wave crashing against the shore of your conscience, leaving wreckage to be abandoned and forgotten forever in its wake. It hits you like a thunderstorm tearing apart a peaceful, sunny day.

"Hui...?" is all you manage to choke out.

Images from the past flash before your eyes𑁋Hui, the young boy you once knew, whose face was marked with troubled innocence and a haunting vulnerability that had drawn you to him in the first place. You had watched him grow, had nurtured the fragile trust he had placed in you. You recall your early sessions together, hearing all the painful details of the fire that had torn his life apart.

His smirk deepens, and his eyes gleam with an uncanny satisfaction.

"Hui died ten years ago, doctor," he says with a cold, haunting certainty. "He died in that same fire that set this place ablaze. I'm sure you remember that very well, don't you?"

The room seems to close in on you, and the memories of that fateful night come rushing back like a torrential downpour. The fire, the chaos, the screams. It had been a nightmarish scene, etched into your memory like the faint scars that plague your arms from that very night.

But before you could respond, you felt something vibrate in your pocket. It's the end of your session.

FLASHBACK: 2013

The fire alarm rang.

It was blaringly loud, completely jolting you out of your chair in the silence that carried through your office. Your heart raced as the panic had begun to sink in, the blood-red light of the alarm painted the muted colours of your office walls with a surreal, macabre-like glow, and the acrid scent of smoke was beginning to fill your lungs.

You reached for the door handle, but your trembling hands fumbled, and it wouldn't budge. You tried again and again, the cold sweat on your palms making it even more difficult to grip.

"Wh-What the hell?" You shakily muttered to yourself, before bringing your fists up to pound on the door. "Hello? Someone help me! I'm in here! Someone!"

The panic intensified as the fire alarm continued its relentless wail as you continued to pound on the door. Smoke started to seep in from the edges of your office door, and you could feel the heat of the flames approaching. You coughed, choking on the sharp fumes that stung your throat. It felt like the walls were closing in on you. Fuck, fuck, what do you do? How the hell was the fire spreading so fast?

You were trapped. You were going to die.

The windows! You remembered the windows. Desperation drove you to the large window on the wall. Instinctively, you grabbed a chair and used it to break it, the sound of shattering glass ringing in your ears, the shards grazing against your skin and the palm of your hands, making you let out a sharp gasp. Blood trickled from the cuts on your hands, and as you peered down to the ground below, you realised that you were too high above the ground for a safe jump.

The fire was only getting closer and closer.

As you hesitated by the shattered window, a muffled voice from the hallway reached your ears. "Is anyone in there? We're trying to get you out!"

Your eyes widened as you stumbled back to the door. "I'm in here! Please help!"

"Step back! We're breaking down the door!"

You stepped back from the window as much as you could and away from the smoke, feeling the flames inching closer. Your vision blurred as you fought to breathe, eyes stinging with tears from the dry air.

Moments later, a loud crash resounded through the room as the door burst open. A group of firefighters rushed in, their protective gear making them look like otherworldly figures emerging from the haze. They quickly located you, wrapped you in a fire-resistant blanket, and led you to safety.

Once you were outside, an emergency medical team checked you over for any injuries, plastered up your arms, and administered oxygen. You were shaken, bruised, and suffering from smoke inhalation, but you were alive. Somehow. In some way.

Then, you found your mind drifting back to Hui. Did he manage to get out safely? Where was he? Questions swirled in your mind as you watched the firefighters work tirelessly to contain the blaze. God, he must not be in the right state of mind after witnessing yet another fire himself.

"Excuse me..." You weakly called out to a paramedic, voice barely a whisper.

The paramedic turned to you, concern etched on their face beneath their protective gear. "Yes, are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, barely getting your words together. "I was in there... in the building. I have some patients... uh... Do you know if they made it out? I need to know if they're safe."

The paramedic exchanged a glance with another passing colleague, eyes hidden behind their mask, before returning back to you and shaking their head.

"We're still searching for survivors and dealing with the fire," they explained. "We can't give you any information right now. I'm truly sorry. I'll let them know to keep a lookout. Can you describe them for me?"

You described what your other patients and what Hui looked like as much as you could, and the emergency worker took down all the information before walking away to tend to others.

The silence that followed was suffocating, perhaps even more than what you endured inside the building, and you found it difficult to hold back tears of frustration from flowing down your face.

As the smoke gradually dissipated and the flames were brought under control, the once-deafening alarm was reduced to sporadic chirps and the occasional distant rumble of falling debris. The scene around you was one of destruction, merely charred remains of a place that was filled with hope and healing.

You glanced down at your trembling, injured hands and arms and see the cuts from the shattered window, yet the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart, and the fear and guilt that gnawed at you. You lost patients whom you had sworn to protect, had sworn𑁋no, promised to heal.

It was only when the search and rescue teams began to wind down their efforts that you realised the search for Hui had come with no results. All of your other patients were safe, but him. There was no sign of him anywhere, as if he slipped off the face of the earth.

A firefighter approached you some time later, his face covered in soot appearing both exhausted and empathetic.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, voice heavy with regret and defeat. "We've searched every area we could access, but we haven't found anyone else. The fire was intense, and... I'm truly sorry."

His words hit you like a hammer blow, and you felt your heart sink even further. You had dedicated your life to saving others, and yet it seemed that you might have failed to save one.

"Thank... Thank you for trying," You mumbled to the firefighter, nodding in acknowledgement. "And thank you for risking your lives to save us."

PRESENT DAY: 2023

The clouds outside obscure any hints of sunlight, and the overcast sky casts a sad, grey hue over the world outside. The room feels dim and lonely despite the overhead lights. You try to ignore that particular gnawing feeling to your skin as you sit at your desk, waiting for your next session with Moon Jun to start. It'll happen anytime now𑁋perhaps the more you anticipate will make time go by slower.

However your thoughts are interrupted by the soft knock at your door, and you look up to see Seokmin standing there. He offers you a warm smile as you motion for him to come inside, and you swear you see small ray of sunshine break through the clouds outside at the corner of your eye.

"Hey, how're you holding up?" he asks. "I wanted to check up on you."

You tilt your head a bit giddily at the sight of him. "We just had lunch break together, Seokmin."

He rolls his eyes at this, scratching the back of his neck bashfully. "I know, I know, but I... Well, is there a rule here that says I can't see you twice in one day when we're not working?"

Your lips purse together thoughtfully. "I guess not."

"Good." He grins, but it's quick to fade once he takes another look at you. "so... how have you been?"

The soft concern in Seokmin's voice is almost like a comforting hug for your ragged nerves. Normally it's your duty to ask your patients those kinds of questions, not the other way around. You offer him a tired but appreciative smile as he settles into the chair across from your desk. It's a rare moment when the roles are reversed, even if it's just for one short minute.

"You look tired," Seokmin points out, and it makes you let out a chuckle, even though it's tinged with weariness.

"You have a good eye, Seokmin," You reply playfully, and he blushes at this. "Do you want to know what I've been dreaming about the past few weeks?

Seokmin thinks about it for a second, then his eyes widen slightly.

"Is it... the fire?" he queries, hoping there's that small chance he might be wrong.

Your steady gaze meets his.

"Yes," You admit casually. "It's always the fire."

Or specifically, it's the fire and the guilt that you weren't able to save anyone, and it had been eating away at you ever since that fateful day.

His face softens at this, then he feels himself hesitate for a brief moment, before slowly reaching out to place his hand over yours on the desk. His touch is warm and reassuring, and you can feel the genuine concern in his eyes.

"I-I'm sorry you have to go through that, I wish there was a way I could... you know, stop you from reliving those kinds of things." His words make your lips twitch upwards, and he knows he's done something right. He finishes your smile with one of his own. "But... you're not alone in this. Just know I'm here."

"You've been helping me this entire time, Seokmin," You assure him. "If anything, I should be the one thanking you."

The weight of all the memories and unhealed scars left behind still cling to you like shadows. But in the presence of Seokmin, the burdens seem a little lighter, the darkness a bit less suffocating. The room seems a bit less lonely as you both sit there, just like all the days you eat lunch together where you seem to look forward to seeing him sit with you, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall serves as a reminder that time keeps moving forward.

Before you know it, it's as if you've been struck by a gong that you could only hear, and you knew it was time to move forward with your session. You take your hand away from Seokmin as you stand up, and he follows suit.

"Y/N, wait, um..." Seokmin stops you before you could leave, and you turn back to him. "If something bad happens, or if you need anything, don't hesitate to reach out to me, even outside of work. I... want to make sure you're okay."

His words warm your heart, and you shoot him a thankful look.

"I know I can," You say, while opening the door to the outside of your office. "Thank you, Seokmin."

When you enter inside room 610, you spot Moon Jun sitting on the chair that you were supposed to sit in, his posture relaxed and arms crossed almost impatiently. He didn't wear the mask on his face, and he appeared confident, somewhat smug. It was the only other chair in the room. The other place for you to sit would be... the bed. This isn't how a typical therapy session begins.

"Doctor, I was just thinking about you!" he exclaims excitedly. "Please, go ahead and sit down on the bed. I thought it would be great to change things up a little. You wouldn't mind, would you?"

You hesitate for a moment, glancing between him and the bed. Maintaining your professionalism, you make your way to the bed and sit down, folding your hands in your lap. Something brushes against your leg for a moment, you look down to see a sheet of paper sitting next to you, and a plethora of crayons resting on top.

"Please bare with me for the mess, I was busy drawing before you came in," he tells you, voice almost cheery and... delighted?

As you sit on the bed, his demeanour only raises more questions than answers. He appears unusually relaxed, and his eagerness is disturbing. It's unlike him.

"Of course, that's fine with me," You tell him casually.

There's a grin that spreads across his scarred face, and it brings an uncomfortable twist to your stomach, but you don't let it show, though at this point you feel that he can sense your nervousness, your unease, knowing there's history between you two you thought to have burned away in the back of your mind.

Yet it had all come back just like his reemergence back into your life𑁋into something more sinister.

"He talks to me sometimes, even though he's perished in the flames," Jun begins, grabbing the paper right next to you. "You remember his drawings, right? Back in that big, bright room... where beneath all those smiles of the other patients was just... hopelessness."

Then he flips the paper over, and you find yourself peering at a drawing of flames, and the uncanny similarity to Hui's artwork all those years ago cannot be ignored. You see the same vivid depiction of flames, the swirling reds and oranges dancing on the page, and the black lines of its remains. But more than that, it's the emotions that these drawings evoke, the overwhelming sense of dread, and the traumatic memories that it unsheathes. He's the personification of the fire that scarred you all those years ago.

You feel a lump form in your throat. "Hui..."

"I-I am not Hui!" he wails out unexpectedly, voice shaking with anger. His hand grips the crayon so tightly that it snaps in his grasp, the colour streaking across the paper. "Hui is dead, remember? Burned by the flames?"

"If you're not Hui, then who are you?" You ask almost pleadingly.

His fingers toy with the broken crayon as he leans in closer, his disfigured face mere inches from yours. His gaze pierces through you like a knife, and in the dimly lit room, the shadows play tricks on his scarred face, making his disfigurement seem even more malformed.

"The phoenix, don't you remember, doctor?" He chuckles lowly. "It's a creature reborn from the ashes of its own destruction, risen from the flames just like me. Rebirth and fire, doctor! You haven't been paying attention, have you?"

You sense the panic seeping inside you, causing your heart to race. His words send shivers down your spine, and you realise that he's explaining with a belief that goes beyond mere delusion, beyond repair. The scars on his face are only a fraction of the damage done. He claims to have risen from the ashes, taking on a new identity, giving him this motive of... cleaning the world with fire.

Cleaning the world...

...with fire.

Ashes of its own destruction....

"You..." You slowly rise up from the bed, the room suddenly feeling too confining. The door seemed like it was miles away, and you find your breathing shaky and unsteady. "You were... you caused those fires, didn't you?"

His eyes fixate and narrow down on you as you stand up from the bed, and a sly smile spreads across his scarred face. His gaze is intense, and you feel like you're trapped. You recall the sessions you had with him years ago that you thought were leading him toward healing. But now, you face a man who has fully embraced a twisted ideology.

"I didn't cause those fires," he responds with eerie calmness. "I simply set things in motion."

"You𑁋You killed innocent people, you were the one... from ten years ago... You𑁋"

"They were all lost, meaningless, and I brought meaning to their lives. What's so hard to understand?" he deadpans.

"You killed your family," You state. "How can... how can you justify that?"

"Hui killed his family, I didn't," he claims, crumpling up the piece of paper in his hands. "Hui started all of this, I'm merely just a follower. He was misunderstood his entire life, and you promised him healing, which you didn't fulfill."

The room feels like it's boiling you alive, and you're stuck in an endless maze of his twisted delusions. There's a sense of helplessness as you try to reach through to the man behind the scars, the one who once sought your help, but you fear that he's too far gone.

"Jun, this isn't the answer. The… the phoenix is not real,” You plead, your voice trembling. "Hui was troubled, yes, but violence is not the path to understanding or redemption. It only leads to more pain and destruction."

His expression only hardens as he throws the crumpled up piece of paper on the floor, gloved hands forming fists at his side.

"You think you can help people by sitting in your comfy chair, listening to their problems, and scribbling notes on a fucking notepad." He scoffs annoyedly, leaning back in his chair. "You're just like all the others, doctor, so dumb and worthless. You never understood... You say that you do, but you don't."

And just as you were about to speak, you watch him pull something out of the pocket of his patient gown. You squint your eyes, and a gasp shudders out of you when you notice what's in his hands.

A lighter.

"You people are just so gullible, all while you're thinking you're helping," he mutters, flicking the lighter on. The tiny flame dances at the tip, casting bizarre shadows across his scarred face. "When in reality, you're laughing behind our backs with your stupid cigarettes and your fancy degrees. You wouldn't believe the things you can find in a place like this. It's amazing what people leave lying around."

There's an arrow that penetrates through your heart, an arrow of betrayal, helplessness. How can he think of you this way when you dedicated your entire time to helping him heal all those years ago? How can he, of all people, not see that your intentions were always to provide support and understanding?

You can feel the room heating up, not just from the small flame but from the growing tension. Jun's eyes are locked onto the flickering fire of the lighter, and his words are plagued with bitter resentment. You attempt to scurry to the door, but he blocks your way, nearly shoving the flame of the lighter in your face.

"Don't you see how beautiful this is, doctor?" he utters in a trance-like state, as if the flame was hypnotising him. The orange and yellow hues reflect onto his soulless eyes. He moves the lighter dangerously close to your face, and you can feel the searing heat radiating from the tiny inferno at the tip of your nose.

Your heart pounds like a beating drum, beads of sweat form on your forehead, and your breathing quickens as panic threatens to engulf you. But his gaze only remains possessed on the fire, as if he's being consumed by the very flames he holds in his hands.

"It's so beautiful how something so small can hold so much power," he murmurs, voice barely more than a whisper.

"This... This isn't the way to find meaning or healing," You respond, slowly backing away from him, trying to create some distance between the flame and yourself. "Fire and destruction only lead to more suffering, more pain. It's not the answer, Jun."

For a split second, something flickers in Jun's eyes, as if a fragment of his former self tries to break free from the shackles of his obsession. But it's a fleeting moment, quickly devoured by his fixation on the fire.

"There are... There are people who want to help you. Don't you remember all of our sessions together? All the... all the breakthroughs we had? You were making progress, Jun. You were on your way to healing." You bring your hand up as if in defense, watching him closely as he steps the tiniest inch closer to you. "I... I want to help you, I always have. I..."

He stares at you, and for a moment, it seems like your words might be getting through to him.

"Let me help you, Hui."

But just when you think your words may have struck a chord, his face contorts into a menacing grin and you can see the flame reflect onto his eyes. The last fragile thread of sanity that seemed to linger has snapped.

"You failed Hui that night, just like you failed me." He chuckles darkly. "You couldn't save us. Do you really think you can save everyone, doctor? Do you really think all the patients you've helped all these years are any better off now?"

Now, you found yourself speechless, a tight grip around your throat from his words.

He laughs coldly, waving the flame in front of your face once more. "You're so blind, doctor. You want to heal and save everyone, but you can't save me, and you can't save yourself. I can see it in your eyes."

He’s getting in your head, you know he is. He's trying to loosen your grip on whatever reality is𑁋attempting to unravel in your mind that you were, in some way, responsible for the events that had occurred over the years, forcing you to succumb to the guilt placed on your shoulders. You've never dealt with someone so deeply rooted to their own twisted reality. You can't reason with him.

It's impossible.

But you refuse to be the victim of your own past just like you had made yourself to be.

"Junhui," You call out urgently, and the use of his real name brings a harsh, foreign taste to your tongue. You notice the way he flinches slightly to it. "That person still exists inside you𑁋I-I know it does. Please, let that part of you come back. I'm here to listen, to understand, and to help. No matter what you believe."

The flame continues to sway at the end of the lighter, yet his face remains deformed into that unsettling grin, but your words seem to have given him a momentary pause.

"You think you can bring him back?" he hisses, bringing the flame away from your face, stretching his arm out toward the side. "He's dead, doctor. It's too late."

And with that, he tosses the lighter in the direction of the bed, and a cascade of flames quickly engulf the sheets, the crayons, the drawing, everything. Horror sets in as you watch the fire rapidly spreading, consuming the room, and overhead the fire alarm screams into action.

"Isn't it beautiful, doctor?" he guffaws as the flames devour the room, eyes wide with awe. "It's so perfect... So beautiful..."

Nothing but Jun's laughter fills the air as he watches the flames lick up the once-white walls with a maniacal fascination. The flames flicker and crackle loudly, casting shifting shadows on the walls of the room. You dart towards the door, but the intense heat and smoke make it nearly impossible to breathe or see, and you cover your mouth and nose with your hand. Coughing and vision disoriented, you stumble and hit the floor with a thud, weakly pounding your fists against the door.

"Someone help!" You shout desperately, the words barely escaping your mouth. "Someone help! I-I'm in here! Anyone, please!"

The room is suffocating you whole. You can hardly even see where Jun is amidst all the smoke, yet his laughter still rings in your ears, fogging away all your thoughts. You keep pounding on the door, voice hoarse from shouting, skin tingling with heat, but there's no response from the other side.

So this is how you're going to die, You think to yourself, leaning back against the wall like you were accepting your fate, and the thought makes you chuckle at the irony.

Time seems to stretch into eternity. But just when it feels like all hope is lost, the door bursts open, and a strong hand reaches in, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room and into the chaotic corridor. In the corridor, the fresh air is quick to fill up your lungs. You gasp for breath, your heart racing, while the fire alarm continues to blare.

It's Seokmin who pulled you from the room, and you can hardly make out his face from your stinging, watery eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you as you both stumble away from the dangerous room, mixing with the rushing crowd of staff and patients all being guided outside to their safety.

"Y/N, are you okay?! Stay with me!" Seokmin continues to pull you through the corridor, shielding you from anything that you might run into.

You only manage a weak nod, still coughing from all the smoke. Your mind is racing, and you can hardly tell where you were going, but you trust Seokmin's guidance as he leads you further away from the scene of the fire. The sounds of sirens and shouting surround you, and the sight of the smoke floating out from the room you just escaped haunts your thoughts.

When the brightness of the outside hits your eyes, you catch your breath and fall out of Seokmin's grasp and down to the ground. Firefighters and police officers quickly brush past you and into the building as Seokmin pulls you up once more to lead you in the direction of the paramedics and ambulances.

"Here, sit down." Seokmin places you on the stair of the ambulance and helps you out of your white coat before wrapping a blanket around you. "Can we get some help over here?"

A paramedic approaches, checking you over and providing oxygen to help clear your lungs of all the smoke you inhaled. Your heart is still pounding in your chest as you sit there, trying to process what just happened.

Seokmin places himself right next to you, scanning over your features closely. You look over at him, and he gives you a reassuring smile, pushing away some disheveled strands of hair so he could properly see your face.

"You're going to be okay," he assures you, rubbing some comforting circles on your back. "Just take deep breaths and try to relax. They'll take you to the hospital to make sure you're alright."

You give him a nod, feeling a bit more security from him than the blanket draped over your shoulders right now. The two of you sit there for a few minutes, calmly watching the chaos begin to subside. It didn't look like the fire damaged much in terms of the outside of the building.

"I'm going to see if I could help around," Seokmin says, standing up. "Just stay here, okay? I'll be back before they take you to the hospital."

Just as he begins to walk away, you hesitate for a second, before calling out his name, "Hey, Seokmin?"

He turns back to you, a look of concern in his eyes. "Yes? Do you need something?"

You reach out your hand toward Seokmin, silently gesturing for him to come closer. He approaches, and without a word, you pull him into a tight hug. You feel him freeze in your grasp, before his arms fully encircle you in return, tightening the hug, and for a moment, the world around fades away as you hold onto each other. You can feel his heart beat a bit faster than normal against your chest, but you don't acknowledge it, and neither does he.

Eventually, you reluctantly pull away from the hug, but you don't let go of Seokmin's hand just yet.

"Thank you," You whisper. "for everything."

His gaze softens as he looks at you, before glancing away shyly. It makes you chuckle.

"No need to," he tells you. "I'm... I'm just happy you're safe."

The two of you stay like that for a moment, with you closing your eyes to steady your breathing while Seokmin continues to hold your hand, and you can feel the tension in your body slowly easing.

Seokmin's smile is warm, and he squeezes your hand gently. "I'll be back soon, okay? Just hang in there."

With that, he leaves your side to assist the emergency responders, leaving you seated on the ambulance's stairs, wrapped in a blanket. Your brows furrow together, trying to make sense of the situation and all the events that just transpired. The fear, the confusion, the mania that gripped the lost man back in that room𑁋it all swirls within your mind. The lingering scent of smoke fills your nose, and you swear and you can still feel the heat on your skin even though the air was cool outside.

As you sit there, lost in thought, suddenly feeling disconnected from the world around you, you find yourself questioning the nature of your profession and everything you ever believed about it. Could you have done something differently? Were there signs you missed that might have prevented this particular descent in delusion? Was he right, and you were blind this entire time? Not just for him, but for everyone you've helped?

Were you really this dumb and worthless?

Or perhaps was it impossible to save him this entire time...

...and he was too far gone?

That hefty burden of guilt, both for your inability to help him in the past and in the present, weighs heavily on your shoulders. What's for sure is that this will forever be an image tainted in your mind, scarred just like the man who brought destruction and chaos to your life today, and that particular day ten years ago.

You don't know how long you sat there until Seokmin returns, yet when he comes up to you, his face appears disturbed and... paranoid?

"They've got the fire under control. It didn't spread much farther than the room," he informs you, catching his breath. "It seems like nobody else was hurt."

"That's good to hear." Your eyes roam over his features, taking in the tense expression to his face. "Is... is everything okay? How about..."

He sits down beside you, expression still apprehensive. You can see the flicker of concern in his eyes, and the remnants of the chaos from moments ago are still evident in the way he holds himself. His gaze meets yours, and you notice a small shift in his demeanour, as if there's something he's struggling to express.

Seokmin darts his attention around, as if making sure no one was listening in, before taking a deep breath and leaning in.

"They... They said they didn't find his body in the room," he mutters, and it's so quiet you hardly make out what he says. "It's... It's like he escaped."

Your heart drops. A sinking feeling settles in your chest. Dread washes over you at his words.

"W-What?"

another another note: sorry if u expected some sort of romance w jun (which would kinda be weird for the story tbh), but feel free to imagine whatever u want w our dear seokmin. cgrats on making it to the end of the longest oneshot i’ve made so far on this blog 😍🫶

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @rubywonu @etherealyoungk

#kflixnet #k-labels #caratsland #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen dark fic #seventeen x reader #jun imagines #jun angst #jun dark fic #jun fic #jun fluff #jun x reader #wen junhui imagines #wen junhui angst #wen junhui fluff #wen junhui dark fic #wen junhui fic #wen junhui x reader #svt imagines #svt x reader #svt fic #svt dark fic

[blusocket]

I've seen some people express some confusion about what Fortnight is about, why it opens the album, what's happening in the video, etc, so here's my attempt at an analysis. For the most part I'll be referring to the characters in the video with the names of the people playing them (Taylor and Post) but at times I'm going to be making direct reference to the events of Taylor's personal life and referring to the muses by their names (Joe and Matty) for the sake of clarity and simplicity.

The song itself uses the suburbia conceit as an extended metaphor for the beginning of her relationship with Matty (he's the neighbor she runs away to Florida with, Joe is the cheating husband.) For more eloquent and detailed thoughts on the narrative of the song you can check out Jaime @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes's post here.

The video is really dense, and I'm not 100% confident in every aspect of my interpretation, but I feel pretty sure that it's making extensive use of visual metaphor in order to tell roughly the same story as the song, just in a different setting. To start, Taylor wakes up chained to a bed in a white dress.

To me this suggests that she's been driven mad by being left at the altar, and is now trapped, surveilled and controlled, in a type of asylum. This represents the end of her relationship with Joe--waiting for a marriage that never came, feeling trapped, mentally unwell etc.

She then takes 'forget him' pills which reveal Post's tattoos on her face when she looks in the mirror.

This represents Matty (the "miracle move-on drug") and shows that he made a mark on her while she was still in the asylum--that is, still in her relationship with Joe. Additionally, in the wide shot where we see the mirror, its size and shape are very reminiscent of a one-way mirror, often seen in interrogation rooms and psychological experiments, further reinforcing the idea that Taylor is imprisoned here.

She then is able to go to the typewriter room and do her work, creating art about how she's feeling, shown by her repeatedly typing "I love you, it's ruining my life" on the typewriter. She's still in pain and feeling trapped. While there, she encounters Post and they create art together, which creates beauty and color in her life. The blue and gold obviously reference her writing about Joe, but the fact that her work is gold and Post's is blue may be a deliberate choice to draw parallels between Matty and Joe, as she does on numerous songs throughout TTPD.

The next scene, where Taylor's hair is down and she and Post are wearing the same black coat and pants, takes place inside her head (symbolized by the shape of the papers they're laying on.) She is dreaming about them being free and creating art together, represented by the papers surrounding them and book she's holding, which has the word "us" written on the cover. She's writing their story before it's begun.

She then reaches for his hand in her fantasy, accepting and asking for this relationship

Then we see that she's being studied and experimented on--the results of the lie detector test read "I love you, it's ruining my life." Her pain is an object of fascination.

Interestingly, Post is part of the group experimenting on her, but when the experiments begin to cause her pain, he liberates her.

This inspires Taylor to destroy the place where she's been trapped, which we see through her opening the filing cabinets that cover the walls and destroying the mirror. I also find the shot of her standing still while papers burn around her interesting and significant; I interpret this as Taylor destroying her own work about Joe. By choosing to leave, she is metaphorically burning--rejecting--the story she wrote about them.

Finally, Taylor and Post enter the dangerous outside world together; the rain echoes the lyric "I chose this cyclone with you" on the album's title track. While I do feel the meaning of Post being in the phone booth is somewhat ambiguous, the framing and the accompanying lyric--"I've been calling ya but you won't pick up" suggest that he's attempting to communicate with her but can't reach her. They are free of her prison, but still separated.

Then, he hangs up the phone and reaches for her hand, and she takes it. The final shot of the video is a close up on their linked hands, presenting us with a cautiously optimistic ending--they are lost and vulnerable in the middle of a storm, but they have each other.

I feel this is a somewhat less sinister, for lack of a better word, portrayal of the start of Matty and Taylor's relationship than is suggested elsewhere on the record, though I believe Post's character being part of the group experimenting on her is significant and the editing creates some ambiguity about exactly when and why she decides to break free. But I hope this clarifies how the video sets up the beginning of this story, the fallout of which is then chronicled over the course of the rest of TTPD.

#taylor swift #the tortured poets department #ttpd #fortnight

[acheronist]

to the ghost of henry peglar, congrats on writing your poem down 177 years ago!!!

to the actual academic scholars who have studied the pages before me....

so I took the royal museum greenwich's scan of the poem page (which is available online hereeee) and screwed around with its light levels in photoshop until henry's script was darkened enough to see more clearly. then I digitally traced over the darkened letters as best as I could, while also trying to discern his handwriting, and type up how I was reading it & this process took me about a week to get done between like... living my regular day to day life lmao.......

so when it WAS done, the final isabel acheronist peglar papers ["the open C"] transcript seemed a bit different than how I remembered the readily available russell potter transcript going ? (the poem is on the last two pages of that pdf for those of you who don't spend a billion hours a week looking at it btw)

it felt like I was getting more/different information out of it, compared to the potter transcript, which was kind of stressing me out honestly. so THEN I compared mine with barry cornwall's original poem and found more words that matched up? particularly in the second and third stanzas?

so!!!!! almost two hundred years later here's what I've landed on:

April 21 1847 the C the C the open ) ( it grew so fresh the Ever free the Ever free the Ever free without it without it covered it will Run to Earth above Re gions Round I love the C I love the C when I whare & I wish to be with and and silence whare Never go if a sailor should a Come and Make the meek What matter what matter Come Ride Or Sleep there was shores white and of red morn at the noisy hours knew I was ever near I was Born the [...] in felt Unto the Maid the wale the young dolphin ...... yet thes back of gold the Call of gods When I was on Old England Shore I like the young C more and more oftentimes time flew to a sweltering place like a bird thats seeks it mother Case and ware she was bird oft to me for have I loved a young and Hopen C

so then after going thru All Of That, I wanted to have a version of the original poem with parts that Henry did remember clearly highlighted for comparison purposes:

I know it's a popular theory that Henry was writing a dirty parody of the original poem? which if true, is funny as hell. me when i have to write cheeky victorian porn before i die.

But (serious voice) something about that hadn't ever seemed exactly right to me... IN MY HEART it seems more realistic that around 1847 he (and also by extension, the whole surviving expedition crew) were starting to experience confusion / brain fog symptoms from being ummmm quite physically unwell. the lead poisoning/scurvy combo would have severe effects on the brain's ability to function properly, and I started to wonder if Henry was trying to test his memory somehow? So he picked a widely known and popular Victorian era poem about being a sailor to see how much he could recall??? and he then got a little whimsical with it, and wrote in his own words to fill in the portions he couldn't fully recall, because it's his own diary and likely didn't expect anyone else to ever read it, much less have it turn into ONE of TWO surviving sources about the expedition?????

like... idk... this is probably the work of someone in the exact moment as they were starting to realize how bad things were, and then was trying to cope by using poetry. and That hurts my feelings enough as it is, but going through it was also just a very weird and haunting experience....... like, I can recognize all these tiny details in this dead guy's script and handwriting now. and to read his own account of his life in his own words, what stood out to him and what he recalled, what he wanted people in the future to know about him? insane. it literally felt like i was getting haunted by him for no reason. on top of knowing that Someone (#teamarmitage) loved this guy enough to keep his memory protected and safe, even though They Were So Totally Fucked And Going To Die There, unknowing if they'd ever be found again........

SIGHING + SIGHING + SIGHING + SIGHING + CRYING A BIT HONESTLY

anyways thanks for reading this all. I don't think that this is revolutionary franklin expedition news by any means, and idk if there's a better different transcript somewhere that i've not found that already covers all this? but it's consumed a lot of my life lately lol and i wanted to share. because its the anniversary of henry writing it, and it felt...... important....? 💌....????

#📜 #henry peglar #this is my crazy person post i wanted to make two weeks ago #i really did do my best to follow his hand btw but let's all read this expecting a few mistakes #franklin expedition #peglar papers

[taasgirl]

say something pt 3.

summary: although playing for the same club, pedri and y/n cannot stand the thought of being around each other. enemies to lovers for all my slow burn girlies out there - i got u

a/n: not proofread and all in english + more installments coming soon!!

"Sir, can I get an extension on this? I've got a game the same day." The room was small enough for me to get my voice across. We had finished learning all the content and were just revising and studying for our exams.

"Talk to me after class and I'll see what we can do." I hated asking for extensions and grants on assessments, and I could almost hear everyone in the room roll their eyes every time I asked for one. I was also avoiding Alex. I last saw him at my match where I blew him off. I was planning on talking to him about everything. I really felt bad about how I was treating him.

As the professor wrapped up class, I began packing my things into my duffel. I had training later today, but I was absolutely dying for some food.

I followed everyone down to the exit and stopped at the desk. "Listen Y/N, we're all quite aware of your commitments to football." The Professor, Mr Lanigan, was filing papers into a binder. "But we've awarded you too many grants. I'm sorry, but for this paper the day you are sitting the exam is set in stone."

To say I was shocked would be an understatement. They generally were totally fine with my footballing schedule. "I can't make it then sir. You know how strict they are." He looked at me sympathetically.

"You're a bright girl. you'll figure something out." I walked out after thanking him, but I was pissed. There was no way I could sit that test. Barca were strict. Missing a game for university was a big no no, they were already being flexible with me, allowing me to attend lectures during the day.

After a quick pitstop to the closest cafe on campus, I decided to walk back to the apartment. I needed to collect my thoughts and find out a way for me to attend my assessment while also getting to my game on time and prepared.

While walking through the streets of Barcelona, I was stopped numerous times by fans asking for my photo. Now it wasn't uncommon for me to be stopped, but I took at least 30 photos today which was way more than usual.

As I got back to the apartment, I was greeted by a sleepy Salma. "Morning girly." She was still in her pyjamas, obviously looking for something to eat. "Sal it's 2pm." She shrugged, making me laugh.

"Hey I need to get to football a bit earlier, I've gotta talk with Jonatan." Salma opened the fridge, "Yeah that's fine, I'll drive."

"So do you know what time your exam is?" I was sitting in Jonatan's office, begging him to help me figure something out. "It's from four until five." He shook his head at my response.

"I'm sorry Y/N but you won't be able to make the game." I wanted to throw my head back in anger but I didn't. "Please, is there anything you or the president can do? I can't miss this exam and I can't miss the game." I had found out that the game that I was set to miss because of my exam was an El Classico. I wasn't going to miss that.

"That's not in my power. You must speak to your university and make a decision." I could feel my eyes swelling. It may just seem like a game, but I had been dreaming of an El Classico at the Camp Nou my entire life. This was the first year that they had decided to play the derby at the iconic stadium, and I wasn't going to miss it for the world. "I hope you can figure it out. I'll see you on the field." He stood up and helped me out of the room.

I couldn't look at him as I felt the tears come on. I walked down the hallway with my head down, trying as fast as I could to get back to Salma's car. She had given me keys and trusted me to drive it even thought I still didn't have my license. And right now, it seemed like the perfect place to cry.

I continued walking and picked up my pace. That was until I walked straight into someone. The apology came out of me before I could even look up.

It was Pedri.

He was holding my arms, and was concerned when I looked up. "Y/N are you ok?" I was so angry. I needed to just get all my thoughts out.

"No I'm not Pedri. Everything is so fucked." My voice turned croaky but I kept speaking.

With his hands still on my arms, he pulled me into a random office with him, he told me to keep talking.

"I just can't do school at the same time as this. Why did I think it was a good idea to play football. Or go to university." I had begun crying. "And now I have to either miss out on one of the most important exams I will ever take, or miss out on the most important game of my life." I wiped the tears from my cheek and continued as Pedri stepped closer.

"And I'm sorry if this is gonna come off as rude but I have to go to uni. My job is not as permanent as yours." He pulled me in and held my tight, lightly running his fingers through my ponytail. "If I fuck this up then I need a backup. And there's just so much pressure to do both. I can't handle it anymore Pedri."

"It's ok baby, let it out." I couldn't stop crying. I had bottled these emotions up for too long, and they needed to come out. I just wish it wasn't Pedri who would have to see me like this.

We stayed like that, me in him arms for at least another minute while he reassured me. When I pulled away, he picked up my chin and wiped away a tear. "You're a pretty crier." I lightly smacked him, sniffling. "We should probably get to training Pepi." He agreed, and walked out with me.

We walked down to the changerooms together where he then spoke up. "You can talk to me if you need. I may not be able to relate to you or your situation, but I can understand you." I hugged him. It was all I could do, no words were coming out.

I stepped into the women's changeroom and was met by Salma's eyes. "So what did he say?" I shook my head at her. "He can't do anything."

She got up from her seat to hug me. "You smell like cologne." I blushed into her shoulder, I wasn't gonna tell her about what happened.

"And girls, please make sure you're on time tonight." Lucy spoke to us all as we finished up training. Tonight was the some type of ceremony for our sponsors. These fancy dinner happened almost fortnightly, however it wasn't often that we all had to attend.

Lucy was definitely targeting us. Salma had made us late so many times, walking in awkwardly when someone was mid-speech.

"Oh and the boys'll be there too." The whole changeroom groaned. As much as we were 'one club', we couldn't stand the guys. It was something about their cockiness that really pissed everyone off.

"Girl you look fire. Surely your trying to impress someone tonight." Salma nudged my shoulder while I was putting on my make up. "Watch it Paralleulo, one wrong move and my lipstick becomes foundation."

I chose a gorgeous blue and white dress. It wasn't too formal, but also not to casual - the perfect pick.

"Oh and I'm not driving. Pedri is picking us up." My eyes widened in the mirror. Pedri. Driving us. Pedri? "Don't give me that look girl, I know you wanna jump in his pants."

"That's gross Salma. When will he be here?" Salma peeked out the window. "Now. Him and Gavi are outside." I ran to the window, finding Pedri and Gavi dawdling on the sidewalk. "Come on Sal, let's go down."

Once we approached the two boys, Salma ran to Gavi, giving him a big hug. Pedri and I locked eyes. He smiled awkwardly before coming closer to me. He wrapped his arms around me and I did the same. "You look great." We peeled off each other as Pedri went to Salma, and I to Gavi.

"Alright guys come one we don't want to be late." Gavi ushered to us as we packed into the car. He offered the front seat to me, basically forcing me to sit in with Pedri.

"Y/N chuck on some music, let's see what you've got." Pedri helped me connect the bluetooth to my phone, and soon enough, I had the car pumping to some 2000s pop.

The trip didn't take too long. We were on the road for about 30 mins and it was truly enjoyable. Salma led most of the conversation, but soon enough Pedri and I warmed up.

"Oh guys, does anyone wanna go out after this thing? I'm happy to drive around?" Pedri called out to us, he turned he head to mostly face me. I smiled at him, "Yeah actually that would be great." Salma spoke after me, "Surely we go and pick up some McDonalds."

"Do you know what this is actually for?" Pedri leaned into my ear. We were seated at a table together with some sponsors. Literally just us. "Boy don't ask me, I'm still half asleep." He chuckled at my response.

We spent a decent amount of time talking to the people at our table, most of them were major sponsors of the club. "So Y/N, you think you'll be able to fight for Champions League this year?" The short man opposite me asked. "Of course, I've always got space for silverware on my shelf." Everyone around me laughed, the found my cockiness funny. "Atta girl." Pedri rubbed my back gracefully.

"This is boring." He was playing around with the food on his plate. It was some type of concoction of left-over steak with a dark red sauce. "Shut up and eat your food Pedro." He rolled his eyes before sticking his fork into one of the roast potatoes on my plate. While looking straight at me, he ate it. "Hey don't eat my stuff." I smacked him on the shoulder.

"So how long have you two been dating for?" Pedri practically choked on his food. "Huh?" I looked at one of the women sitting a few seats down from me. "How long have you two been together? I mean with that much chemistry, it's gotta be a few years." My cheeks turned rosy.

"Umm." I cut him off "Oh we're not together." Despite how loud the venue was, I could hear the silence radiating from our table. "Oh woah, I'm sorry. I really thought you were- never mind." I smiled at her almost apologetically.

I leaned over to Pedri. "I'm just gonna head to the bathroom." He nodded.

I walked straight to the bathroom to touch up my makeup. I was feeling flushed from what that woman had said. I didn't think we were too affectionate, or even flirting. Well at least not a lot.

I fixed up my hair before pushing open the door. As I walked through the narrow hallway, I felt a hand from behind pull me in.

I spun around and was immediately pulled into a kiss. Pedri had one hand on my cheek and the other on my waist, kissing me relentlessly.

As I pulled away, I smiled at him. There were faint lipstick smudges on his lips. "You need to stop making out with me outside bathrooms." I punched his shoulder playfully.

"Come here." He pulled me back into him, this time his hands were exploring my back. "You're so gorgeous." I kissed him harder to shut him up.

When we had finally stopped kissing I laughed. "Go to the restroom and clean that lipstick off your face." Concerned, Pedri tried to wipe it off. All I could do was smile. "I'll catch you back out there."

"You good?" Salma had caught me as I entered back into the show room. "Your hair's a mess." I rolled my eyes as we made our way towards the table. "Where's Pedri?" I raised my shoulders.

"Holy shit. You just fully fucked him huh?" I smacked her. "Shut up Sal." She was in awe. "I was wondering where you two went holy shit." I turned her around to face her away from everyone, and from the hallway out walked Pedri.

"You slut." Her smile was from cheek to cheek. "We kissed now please don't say anything." She couldn't stop looking at me.

I found Pedri again and sat back down next to him. “And to think that only a few days ago you smacked the shit out of me.” I laughed at what he said. I stood by my decision to smack him up - he deserved it.

Halfway through the dinner I got a message from Alex, I immediately began responding to him. I needed to tell him how I really felt.

He was asking me for some notes from class. Something about interview techniques. I told him that I was happy to send them through but only when I had gotten home.

“Who you messaging?” Pedri was staring at my phone. “One of the boys in my class - you’ve seen him.” He nodded his head, still reading the incoming messages. Alex was asking me when we could meet up next. I instinctively told him tomorrow. I wanted to right some wrongs with him. He was a genuinely sweet guy, just not the guy.

Swing by mine tomorrow - I need to talk to you

The car ride home was pretty silent, we didn’t end up going to McDonalds and instead Pedri drove us straight home. He hadn’t really said much since we kissed. I put my hand on his thigh, only for him to move his leg away.

When we had reached the apartment Pedri didn’t bother leaving the car. “Come on ladies, I’ve got you.” Gavi walked us to our rooms, and explained how he was gonna go clubbing now with Pedro.

“Don’t get too drunk yeah?” I patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah and don’t let her boyfriend get too drunk either.” I gave Salma a death stare. “Who Pepi?” She smiled at him. “Did you two…” he didn’t finish he sentence. “No we didn’t sleep together god.” He laughed and ushered us inside.

As soon as I had taken off my dress and removed my makeup, I landed straight into my bed. “What’s up with you girl?” Salma opened my door.

“If this is about Pedro… just trust me, he’s literally in love with you okay? Yeah he’s an angry dickhead, but he does really care for you.” I rolled over in my bed “He’s so confusing Sal.”

After what seemed like the longest sleep in of my life, I was woken up by the sound of my phone buzzing. Alex was messaging me about when he should come over - I told him in an hours time before taking my phone out of the charger and checking instagram.

Well if that wasn’t a huge fucking mistake.

Each photo and video in my feed was of Pedri making out with some girl. And that girl wasn’t me. I tried not to immediately jump to the fact that it was last night, but his coat jacket and blue button up were far too recognisable.

I went looking for more and felt my heart shatter when I saw the girl sitting on his lap. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her tight to his body.

I found even more videos until I couldn’t bare seeing what I saw. Salma cautiously walked into my room. “Hey babes.” She sat down on the end of my bed. “Have you seen the fucking videos?” She looked at me sadly. “Aw come here.” She wriggled her way up to me, holding me as I felt the tears begin to fall.

“I thought he liked me Sal.” She brushed her fingers through my hair. “He does Y/N, he’s just really fucking stupid.”

To me, this feeling was worse than a breakup. We weren’t together but that’s what made it worse. He wasn’t even cheating on me. God he was just out clubbing and making out with a hot girl.

The tears fell effortlessly down my face. “I never want to see his stupid fucking face again.”

“So, has the club figured anything out?” My professor asked. I knew that he was trying his hardest with the university, but they wouldn’t budge. “Nothing sir. I’m just gonna have to bite the bullet and hope they don’t kill me for missing an El Classico.”

He looked at me sympathetically. “Listen, I’m gonna try for one last push. I’ll see what I can do.” I thanked him once more and left the building. Alex was outside waiting for me - I told him that I was too unwell to meet up yesterday.

“Hello beautiful.” He kissed me on the cheek and took the tote hanging off my shoulder. “Are you still okay for lunch?” I nodded at him, and soon enough we were in his car.

He was driving us to a local Thai restaurant - apparently it was his favourite. When we entered, I realised it wasn’t just a Thai restaurant. It was undoubtedly one of the fanciest restaurants I had ever been in. “Oh wow Alex, you really didn’t need to do all this.”

“It’s honestly nothing if it means I get to spend time with you.” I blushed and picked up my glass of water.

“So what’d you need to tell me?” His eyes were on the menu but still directed his voice at me.

“Umm.” I had no idea what to say. If Pedri wasn’t a complete and utter dickhead - making out with randos right after me, I would’ve told Alex that I wanted to end things.

But if Pedri really didn’t feel the way I thought he did, then I wasn’t going to waste my time or energy on him. “You know what, it’s nothing.” He smiled at me.

We were sat for at least two hours, letting ourselves completely loose; talking about anything and everything. As we finished up, he insisted that he paid. “Please, seriously it’s my treat.”

After lunch, we took a leisurely stroll close in the Botanic Gardens. Alex couldn’t stop taking photos of the flowers, and after a few accidental brushes, our hands were interlinked.

“Y/N you know I really like you right?” We walked past a grand oak tree, I smiled assuringly at him. “Like I genuinely see you as someone I want in my life for a long time.”

I froze. I liked Alex sure, but I wasn’t ready for that type of commitment. “Alex, I genuinely do enjoy spending time with you but I can’t commit to anything right now.”

His head dropped. “I’m sorry.” He rubbed my hand. “I understand.”

“Omg Y/N! Please can we get a photo?” I immediately dropped his hand. “Sure girls.”

Pedri’s POV

“The fuck is this shit?” I threw my phone across the room. “Calm down Pepi what is it?” Gavi called out to me.

“Is it Y/N?” He walked into my room and picked up the phone one the floor. “Oh shit.” He muttered to himself.

“So did that kiss mean nothing to her?” I practically shouted at Gavi.

“Oh, so she can’t go out to lunch with some random guy, but you’re allowed to make out with the first girl that jumps on you?” He chucked the phone at me.

“Salma called me and Y/N is pissed Pepi. That girl is absolutely head over heels for you, but you can’t control your dick enough to see how good she is to you.” I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah well what the fuck do you expect me to do when I see her messaging a guy, telling him to come over right after I fucking confessed my feelings to her?”

“I always knew she was whore, I just didn’t expect her to fucking use me.” Gavi slapped me. Right across the face. “Don’t call her that.” I stared at him. “Get the fuck out.”

“You need to talk to her Pedro. She’s really hurt.”

you know the drill! lmk if you like this series and want to be tagged in the next!! some accts wouldnt let me tag so sorry if that was u.

if you have any reqs pls submit them, i'm working on a few rn!!

@poppyflower-22 @girlidekanymore @heli991113 @xxenia14

#football #football fanfic #football imagine #enemies to lovers #pedri #instagram au #fc barcelona #football social media au #pablo gavi #pedri fic #pedri x you #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri gonzalez #gavi #salma paralluelo #football fic #footballer #soccer #barca #barca femeni

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 18.

Summary: Love as seen in the stars, in the flowers that bloom, in your best friend's eyes, and in the taste of him on Oliver's tongue as you catch him in the bathtub. Summer continues at Saltburn.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; vouyerism, dom!reader, handjob, bathwater as lube, cumming almost untouched, pervert/enabler dynamics. I cannot stress to you enough that both the reader and Oliver are COMPLETE AND UTTER FREAKS ABOUT FELIX in the bathtub scene.

A/N: 6670 words. this chapter is very special to me for a lot of reasons, but mainly because there have been several scenes that i've been writing for a while now that have all found their forever home in this chapter. if you have any feedback or thoughts about this chapter or the story so far, i'd always love to hear them! also something something bath water something ;o)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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Things were easier to navigate now that you understood Oliver. Or at least you thought you understood. Less fucking around with Farleigh and Venetia in Oliver's peripheries; when you put yourself on display, it was as an extension of Felix. If Felix had noticed the change, he hadn't commented on it. Considering how much effort you put in making him feel good and moan like a whore for Oliver's benefit, he probably appreciated it.

Things with Oliver himself were getting better by the day too, it seemed. More and more he was reaching out for you again. Sitting too close, sharing your space, seeking you out when his time wasn't filled with Felix. There's less tension too, on the nights you share in the lilac study. Oliver's been through the book you'd given him on the Estate, and has moved on to picking out books he'd found on your bookshelf, it seemed. You, having quickly identified the flower he'd mentioned as the honeysuckle, native to Australia, had also moved on to books from your Summer reading list for your upcoming year at Oxford. As the first week of Summer is coming to an end, it seems as though Oliver had finally settled in at Saltburn.

"Do you miss your room?" Oliver asks one evening. Without even looking up from your own book, you give a fond laugh, shaking your head.

"It was more just a formality half the time," you tell him with an easy smile, "a place to keep my stuff." Looking at him beside you on the sofa, you see he understands the implications, the holidays you and the others have reminisced about, the trysts masquerading as something much more innocent that you would share with them all when you were at the Estate. There's nothing judgemental in his eyes, there never was when it came to Oliver, "why?"

"It all just feels very much like you in there," he offers, gaze wandering as he speaks, "Felix's room feels very You-And-Felix, and I get bits of him in your room too, but it feels much more you." You're actually rather surprised by how well you understand what he means, "like up on your roof you've got these little stars. They glow. I didn't notice them the first few nights."

Your smile widens, all bright and warm, and you close your book.

"Do you want to have a sleepover, Ollie?" You ask with a childish kind of glee. The offer seems to take Oliver by surprise, but you lean forwards, "like an actual sleepover, like we're kids again."

"You still do just sleepovers?" Seems to escape Oliver without him quite meaning it to, and for a moment your expression does falter a little.

"Yeah," you can't help but feel a little self conscious, "promise I'm not trying to seduce your or anything," then, shifting your legs from him you shuffle back to sit cross-legged on the sofa, "we actually do them kind of a lot, or, well, I do. I think Farleigh and Ven have a few and I know when they get tipsy Ven and Fi have had a few. Sometimes after events when we were teenagers we'd all head back to one of our rooms and end up all passed in the same bed trying to fit in like sardines, all four of us."

"That's very cute," Oliver says softly after a long moment of silence, and when you finally meet his gaze again, he's smiling.

"Yeah," you grin once more, "we were."

Which is how you ended up back in Oliver's room, back in your old bed, looking up at the canvas that made up your ceiling, stretched across the full length of the room, rigged and taught, littered with a constellation of glowing stars. Oliver, laying still beside you, asks about it, and you have to explain that there was no way in hell you would ever be allowed to mark the actual roof of any room in the Saltburn Estate. Which he realises makes a lot of sense once you say it out loud.

"But you should see Felix's ceiling, it's much more impressive," you tell him softly, not even aware how your smile was coming through even in your words. Oliver, bedside you, was simply quiet as he gazed at the glowing dots, "haven't you ever looked up at the ceiling in Fi's room?"

"Not properly," Oliver admitted quietly, and the silence lapses out between you both for several contented seconds, "did you two do this?"

"I did," you said proudly, "and this is just from what I had left over."

"What do you mean?"

"About this time, uh," you considered for a long while, trying to remember the full context of the stars that littered both yours and Felix's ceilings, "seven years ago I think, Felix pretended to have gotten really into astronomy as an excuse to always be out of bed, out on his balcony at night."

"But... he wasn't really?" Oliver's head shifted on his pillow to look at you and your amused smile. You shook your head.

"He picked up smoking from Venetia, she was bribing him with cigarettes to hide both her own habit and the fact that she gave it to him."

Oliver shifts beside you on the bed, no longer content with looking at the stars you'd placed there, interested, it seemed, only in watching you.

"How old was Felix?" He's looking at you, clearly listening and invested, but he seems distracted by something.

"Fourteen," you sighed, "Ven was fifteen, which really isn't much better -"

"And how old were you when you picked the habit up from Felix?" Oliver asks with the faintest, knowing quirk of his lips. Embarrassed about how well he seemed to know you, your whole face scrunched up momentarily, "fourteen?" Oliver teased when you refused to answer, grin widening as you squeezed your eyes shut. Still, he went on, "so when you say Felix pretended to get into astrology seven years ago to hide his smoking habit, you mean you and Felix pretended to get into astrology seven years ago?" And this is when you feel Oliver's gentle fingertips touch your flustered face. His fingertips beginning to glide so gracefully along your features, as you relaxed into a simple, embarrassed smile.

You really weren't trying to do anything untoward with him tonight, you weren't lying about that. Still, you wouldn't rebuff any kind of gentle affection he had to offer.

"Well, yeah," you admitted, and Oliver makes a noise for you to continue as he seemed to be wanting to map each delicate feature on your face through touch alone, "but Fi ended up really getting into it. Went through this whole big astronomy phase that year - I say that year; he still really into it - but back then, it was..." you closed your eyes, letting yourself be immersed in the memory of how excited Felix had been. Felix was always a beautiful sight to behold when he was passionate.

"Little Felix," Oliver mused fondly, "bet he was desperate to be an astronaut." Oliver touches you like you're porcelain, so delicate and precious, his fingertips skimming your cheeks and brushing your eyelashes.

"Actually," you laughed a little, though not unkindly, at the memory. Opening your eyes, you turn just enough to be looking at Oliver, to catch the adoring look in his eyes as his hand stilled, now simply holding your cheek, "he wanted to be the guy who got to give speeches about the stars and planets and the universe every day at the planetarium," you recounted, "and become a Doctor of Astronomy so he could make the videos they play in the room with the domed roof that you get to lay back and watch in the dark," you grinned, "but also then he could still be the guy who gave the speeches, but he'd get to answer questions about his own movie about the universe as well." After a moment of silence, Oliver smiles so widely and genuinely; you know he can see it so clearly, "he'd be so good at it, wouldn't he?"

"He'd be cute," Oliver agreed softly, fondly.

"So for his fifteenth birthday, I spent weeks designing and figuring out how to rig this piece of canvas across his whole roof, since I couldn't paint or mark his ceiling, what with this being a heritage building," you explained, proud little smile on your face, "and I asked my nan about all these paints and fancy pigments and stuff that would last and would glow in the dark, because nan's a painter and she's always had this gift with like, making her paintings look like they glow," you turned to Oliver, expression so adoring, "but Fi turned fifteen while we were at boarding school, so the very next break we had, I convinced him to spend the first week visiting Farleigh and his aunt in America, while I was back here, spending night and day on this. I had the whole canvas stained navy, and nan even stayed here for a few days to help me with painting it all perfectly and making sure all my paints would do exactly what I wanted them to, and we painted this canvas-ceiling I'd set up for him to look like his favourite starscape at the London Planetarium." Giving a loud, contented sigh, you added almost as an afterthought, "there's probably a bunch of the print outs of references I used somewhere in the study; the Planetarium people were so lovely."

"Is that why Felix is doing a physics degree?" Oliver practically gasped like it was a revelation; right, you forgot Felix rarely bothered to explain anything about his academics to anyone. When you confirmed as much, Oliver seems somehow more shocked, "I never got the impression that he thought much of uni." It's... not an incorrect observation to have made about at least half of Felix's academic career.

"He gets weird about it, about talking about it and stuff, thinks he sounds like a nerd," you agree after a moment, with a fond laugh, "he's got this weird mind for physics and anything really related to space and stars and astronomy, but he'd rather complain about the electives that he takes despite knowing he'll hate them."

"Then why does he take them?"

"A lot of them are actually my core subjects," finally you admit, a little abashed, "he knows I'm not as fond of my course as he is of his, so he takes them out of solidarity and complains the whole time." You're pretty sure Oliver can hear the sickeningly sweet undercurrent of I love him, I love him, I love him in your tone, but you can't help it. Neither of you have much more to say on the matter, but you think you know what Oliver's thinking. Something about favouritism, about best friends, about how he's pretty sure that Felix Catton wouldn't do that for anyone else.

And he'd be right.

"Hey Ollie?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I move closer?"

"'course," his voice is warm and soft and before you even move he's coaxing you closer to him, arm around you, letting you rest your head on his chest.

"Thanks for letting me sleep over," you yawned, but the affection in your voice was sincere. A chuckle rumbles through Oliver's chest, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"Thank you for suggesting it."

Oliver's warmth is familiar and foreign all at once. How is it that you could have missed someone so much despite only having spent one night beside him.

However the following morning, over breakfast, Elspeth gives you a reminder about an upcoming event that you'd been trying desperately not to think about.

"Y/N, darling, I just thought I'd remind you about the Arts Collective dinner we'll be hosting in a few days," her voice is carefully neutral as she brings it up. You freeze, "Duncan needs to finalise the numbers today so the kitchen can start figuring out what we need to order. We'll be gathering in the fairy garden for drinks and canapes beforehand." What she's really trying to ask is if you'll be in attendance considering your mother's name is on the guest list. Before you can properly answer, however, she turns to Farleigh and asks if he's still intending on joining the garden portion of the gathering.

"As usual, I will I'll indeed be showing my face for wine and cheese," he says, though his smile is tight, "at my mother's behest."

"I'll be taking dinner in my study that night," you force a smile at Elspeth, and she gives you the same kind of look that was so often directed towards Pamela. Pity. Sympathy. You poor, dear, thing, I understand. In a moment, however, she brightens once more and asks if Oliver would like to join the pre-dinner gathering, or if he'd simply like to attend dinner, dismissively assuming that both of her own children would be forgoing the garden themselves - she'd be right.

You can feel Felix looking at you as you return your focus to your breakfast, but you remain uncharacteristically stoic for the rest of the meal. As your plate is taken away, you try to shake your negativity, looking up and around as you ask if any of the others have plans for the day. Swimming, reading, lounging around; leisure, as always. But you feel as though you'll get lost in your own head if you don't do something with yourself today.

So instead, you find something suitable to garden in, and spend a good deal of the day in your garden, uprooting all of the purple pincushions in preparation. It's satisfying to be working with your hands, satisfying to be ripping the flowerless stalks up by the roots and disposing of them in a bucket to later be composted. You'd brought your iPod and little speaker and make a day of it in the garden, waiving the staff off who offer to help, only asking them what the garden needed that day.

You till the soil you'd just disturbed, mixing fertiliser in in preparation for the plants due to be arriving in a day or two, and water the rest of the plants in both rings. You take great care, admiring each flower in bloom, and even the more utilitarian ivy that curled across the latticed archway of an entrance.

Some of the staff members bring you food and water throughout the day, and for each one that does, you invite them to stop and sit and talk for any time they had spare. All seem surprised by the invite, and even moreso when you seem to know them by name, and how eager you are to ask them about themselves. They also all seem grateful to get off their feet for a few minutes.

Duncan sits very awkwardly opposite you at the picnic table. He does not touch the food he has brought you, even as you push it to the middle of the table, as an offering. Duncan does not ask questions. Duncan has never much liked speaking unless spoken to. But still, you know he's more than willing to refuse a request for company such as the one you'd made, so you take the kindness for what it is. He watches you down the bottle of water he'd also brought like your life depended on it.

"How long has it been since you last applied any sunscreen?" He does finally broach the surprisingly comfortable silence. He'd provided you with a tube of the stuff as you'd announced your intentions to spend the day gardening, and now it sat at the other end of the picnic table with the gardening tools. You promise to reapply after you'd finished your lunch, but smile at him warmly. He gives one of his awkward smiles back, and asks if you need a hat, which you decline.

"Your mother has confirmed that she will be in attendance with the Arts' Collective," he says, and you go still, "what would you like to be brought for dinner that evening?" The confirmation stings, but you know this is Duncan's way of showing he cares about you. You get to pick your own dinner, unlike most other nights, and he won't subject you to the cruel anticipation of wondering just whether your mother really would or would not be in the same house as you.

Trying your best to smile, you let him know that you'll think about it, and get back to him tonight. With a faint nod, Duncan stands smoothly, and leaves the garden once more. He'd always been good to you, in his own way.

By mid-afternoon, you've done all you can, and head back to the house to soak, and perhaps even have a sulk about the upcoming event, in the tub until you had to get ready for dinner.

Except Felix doesn't even knock before he bursts into the bathroom, already in his suit with a bottle of champagne in his hand. He's practically radiating joy as he informs you that he and the others had managed to get their hands on several bottles of champagne and are going to hit the tennis courts before dinner.

Black tie tennis and getting absolutely shitfaced sounded great right about now. You were already feeling pretty recovered from the day seeing as you'd spent over an hour in the bath already, so much to Felix's delight, you agree to join them with a delighted grin. From somewhere behind him, Venetia also orders you to wear something flashy.

"If you're in a black suit too I swear I'm going to scream!"

Which is how you end up in your bright red suit pants with the red, silk paisley embroidery, and matching suit vest, buttoned up, with nothing beneath it. It's also the kind of thing you can move in, throw yourself around in, which is perfect for how the five of you play tennis.

Champagne bottle in one hand, tennis racket in the other, the sunset paints you all a joyful gold. Swapping in and out on all sides to play even games, you find yourself forgetting everything that had been weighting you down, instead drowning in your friends laughter. So often your gaze is caught by Oliver and Felix, cheering, drinking, playing. Love swells in your chest at the sight.

You all share giggles over dinner, and while Elspeth and James and Pamela can all clearly tell that you're all already drunk, the way the five of you are all grinning softens their exasperation.

After, not wanting this rather fantastic evening to end, you end up on one of the many balconies or patios, you're not sure which, sharing a sofa and several cigarettes, and the last of a bottle of champagne with Felix. He's got his head in your lap, pointing out constellations, but all you can see is him, the stars shining in his eyes and wide, excited smile he always got when he was rambling about something he was passionate about. Good how you loved his passion; you wished Oliver were here to see him like this. Of course Oliver loves him, and of course he's desperate for Felix to love him back; to be loved by Felix was -

"You're thinking about Ollie, aren't you?" Felix's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you can see he's grinning up at you, nothing but affection in his eyes.

"I'm thinking about you," you corrected, carding your fingers through his hair.

"You're always thinking about me," he says it so easily, so dismissively, throwing the idea away despite how vain it would sound if it weren't rather true, still he takes on a teasing tone, "you get this look about you when you think about Ollie," he reaches up and pokes your cheek.

"He loves you," you give a contented sigh after a moment, expression turning soft, of course he does, how could he not? But that's also kind of a given.

"And you," Felix's jabbing finger turns to a gentle hand holding your face, "that's why we're being absolute sluts, isn't it? Trying to get him to make a move?" And you laugh, loud and bright, in agreement. But then, after a moment, there's a change in Felix, something in his eyes. It's not jealousy, but it's more serious than before.

"Fi?" Your voice is soft, and he smiles at you, overwhelmingly adoring.

"I've been getting to watch you fall in love," he said gently, incredulously, "how weird is that?" Something tightens in your chest.

"Again," you correct. Felix gives you a vaguely confused look, but you can't help but shake your head at your beautiful fool of a best friend, "you get to see me fall in love again, Felix." You roll your eyes, but as he's hit with the implications of your words hit him, a beautiful flush works its way up his cheeks. He actually has to cover his face with his hands, embarrassment and joy lighting up his expression.

"You're so sappy," he crows, "you are so fucking sappy!" You practically cackle with glee draping yourself over him, onto his chest, the two of you awkwardly wrapped up in each other on this little sofa. As your laughter dies down, you give a faint hum.

"But he's not your competition, for the record, he never really was -"

"I'm not jealous! I've told you that!" Felix insists, "I thought I made that clear!"

"You have, Fi," you laughed, "but what I'm saying is... well, he knows I love you both, and he loves me, but he's not -" ever going to love me the way he loves you, God, you can't say that. It takes the last bit of self restraint you have to bite that back, shifting to get a little more comfortable, you reach out and stroke Felix's hair.

"Fi, I have spent months watching him fall so in love with you, the way I often hope, or," you laughed a little self conciously, "feared, the rest of the world would," and slowly Felix uncovers his face, those big, brown eyes of his full of all kinds of hope and affection, "he was never your competition, Fi, he's mine," you joked.

"Oh," the flush on his cheeks only grows steadily darker, and the faint exclamation comes out as more of a breathless gasp, "Ollie's your competition for..." He grins sheepishly, like he just wants to hear you say it.

"You, Fi," you tell him with an affectionate grin, but for it up with a nonchalant shrug and teasing smirk, "though competition implies that either of us would make you choose."

You would never let him know the full truth. You'd let him believe wholeheartedly that while you both loved Oliver, he reciprocated that wholeheartedly. Which was... mostly true. True enough that it kept Felix happy and you happy enough.

Yes, Oliver loves Felix, and therefore loves you by extension. Only you knew how sharp that distinction really was.

But you realised Felix was right; he was watching you fall in love with Oliver, and you too had been watching him fall for the boy as well, even if it did seem to be a slower process than it had been with you. You reasoned that Felix had far more reason to be cautious with his heart, especially with men. The first and last boy you'd seen him fall in love with broke his fucking heart at Saltburn, you knew part of him was terrified for history to repeat itself. But clearly he couldn't stop himself from falling in the end.

It was a waiting game now, either Oliver makes a real move and proves his love and loyalty to Felix, or Felix makes a real move and proves to Oliver that his affections are entirely, overwhelmingly genuine. So you'd be the proxy when you had to be, something a little safer for them both while they built up the courage.

Though you're not above stressing this tension that's building between them. The bend before the break, how far it would go before it snaps and you can all stop dancing around this thing that you all clearly want.

And an opportunity arises in the days that follow.

Saltburn creaks it's own kind of melody, it always has. You've become used it, learned the ebb and flow of the house and it's noises, the way it settles itself as it cools from the Summer afternoon heat. You know which door is shutting in the rooms adjacent to yours and Felix's just by the sound of the latches alone, and you know all too well which floorboards squeak along the halls you frequent.

On Felix's balcony, winding down for the day with a book as he takes a bath before bed, you don't hear the creak of the little hall between Oliver's room and the bathroom. The blinds are drawn over the bathroom window, but you catch a faint bit of movement in the mostly dark hall and give pause in your reading.

You could barely make out the arch of a shoulder through the break in the blinds, but you could tell that beautiful, bathing Felix had himself a captive audience. Part of you wondered if it was by chance or by choice, if Oliver was watching or simply listening, and if Felix knew either way. He'd have to; there's no way Oliver was adept enough at moving through Saltburn silently that Felix hadn't heard that awful floorboard that creaked right before the bathroom door.

Oh there was purpose to this, you were sure. Felix knew the feeling of Oliver's gaze upon him, the want he so callously toyed with, seeing it in Oliver's eyes all too often. All the world's a stage for Felix Catton, you just wonder what kind of reaction he's trying to pull from tonight's audience. Settling back in with your book, all you can do is wait.

When you hear the water start to drain from the tub, you still take your time, give them both time for anything to occur, before you feel a sense of disappointment or defeat in your heart.

"Can I come in and brush my teeth yet?" You knock loudly at his door and hear Felix laugh on the other side.

"Since when do you knock?" Wrapped in his robe and sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Felix is drying his hair with his towel as you come in. Before you can answer, he follows it up with, "since when did you care if I was in the bath for that sort of thing?"

"It's called respecting your privacy, Fi," you tell him, swanning past him to get to your toothbrush. You do give pause, however, stopping in front of him, and he lowers the towel, as if in anticipation. For a moment you lift his chin, loving the way he grins in almost sappy anticipation, and you give him a quick peck on the lips before you're moving on again and he's back to getting the water from around the edges of his face and ears.

Oliver, who'd watched the whole exchange after slinking into the bathroom from the opposite door, looks quickly at himself in the mirror as you join him in collecting your toothbrush.

"Do you want me to start respecting your privacy?" There's half a joke in Felix's voice, since it's a strange sentiment for you both, especially at Saltburn. Oliver's gaze flicks to you, then to Felix in the mirror.

"If I needed privacy I know you'd respect it," toothpaste on your brush, you leave Oliver's side of the bathroom to join Felix, the two of you having devolved from a real conversation, into some kind of silly, mock-conversations entirely consisting of eyebrow movements, and trying not to choke on your laughter as you brushed your teeth.

Oliver was watching, of course, Oliver was always watching, but you kept noticing the way he'd glance at the bathtub as it continued to drain between the three of you, stealing focus. There was tension in his shoulders, in his gaze, in the way he held himself. Never turning away from the sink - you'd bet he was hard. Oblivious Felix - at least that's how he appeared - was doing nothing but the most mundane bathroom task, which still wasn't able to help Oliver's current state with the way he was glowing, content and beautiful in the steamy bathroom, hair still slick and curling and clinging to his beautiful face.

You watch Oliver swallow hard in the mirror, but then his gaze meets yours. In this moment you don't do anything, you barely acknowledge what you saw, but you see the rapid way he starts to blink as he looks away, as if hoping he'd imagined the look in your eyes.

You finish brushing your teeth in silence after that, only stopping to wish Oliver good night after Felix does, the two of you closing your door to the bathroom.

"I'm going to finish my chapter then I'll be right with you," you tell Felix with a warm smile, picking up your book on the balcony as he yawned loud and wide. He tells you there's no rush, that he'll be out in only a few minutes. True to his word, after a long day, his deep breathing starts to take over not too long after the lights go out.

Except for the one in the bathroom. Just as you'd expected.

You turn out the lamp on the balcony, and move quietly through the darkness. Yes, you know the way Saltburn creaks and moans, know how to make yourself known, or how to slip through the shadows like you're made of them. The old house is well maintained, the hinges on doors don't creak if you move them right, you can slip into the role of observer with ease if you know how.

Behind you, you close the door almost all the way, making sure the latch sits flush with the door for privacy without it's click of proper closing giving you away.

The water is still draining from the tub, Felix's water, and Oliver there along with it. The running water echoes through the old pipes, but not loud enough to cover the lewd noises you hear from the bathtub. The slurping, the moaning, the grateful sighs of contentment to be afforded this moment of perversion.

You let him have his moment. Then you let the door click shut.

Immediately Oliver sits up, panic on his face; he looks like he wants to say something, to explain himself, say anything, but he can't seem to find the words. It's like he was expecting Felix. Or even if he was expecting you, he was expecting judgement. When you remain quiet, remain observant, you watch his panic fade to something wary.

Why? You knew exactly what he was doing, why are you just standing there, watching him? You can see the questions in his eyes, and feel your heart rate pick up. Slowly, you move towards him. Slowly, you let yourself smile.

Oliver sits back in the tub, never taking his eyes off of you, the way you stalk around the space, predator and captured prey, caught red handed. Your fingers trail the lip of the tub, graceful, threatening, until you get to him, his shoulders pressed against the porcelain. His expression is taut, defiant, ready to push back against any kind of mockery or blackmail attempts, you assume.

No, you want him to relish this moment.

You curl your fingers in his hair, leaning down by the edge of the bathtub to make sure he finally sees how pleased you are by this development. The moment he realises, you can see his thinly veiled panic turn to a conflicted kind of desire. But you don't give him another moment before you crash your lips to his, wasting no time, licking at his lips to deepen the kiss, to taste Felix on his tongue.

And you climb into the bath with him, sitting on your knees between his spread legs, mouth on his like you're desperate to devour each other. Oliver is pressed against the edge of the bath, one arm along the edge, the other braced beside him, his mind still catching up to the moment even as he gasps into your mouth.

You break the kiss, the faintest hiss from your kiss-bruised lips being all he needs as a reminder to be quiet. Everything about him has changed, has become needy, pupils so shiny and dark with lust you could lose yourself in him. Instead, you let go of his hair, taking his jaw in a forceful grip, tilting his head to the side roughly, fingernails digging into his cheek. But his eyes flutter closed, choked kind of whimper escaping him, half muffled behind your hand over him mouth as you carefully angle his head back a little further.

He'd indulged himself in Felix's bath water, pressed himself into it, tried to lose himself in it, and the remnants of those moments of extasy clung so delicately to his skin. You take your time, kissing delicate drops of Felix's water from Oliver's beautiful features like a lover, temple to cheekbones down to his jaw. When you finally relax your grip on him, his head tilts enough for him to meet your gaze. Oliver is yours, totally and completely at your mercy. Good. Once his gaze moves to your mouth, to the pleased, hungry smile you wore, he couldn't look away.

With your hand trailing down his body, teasing against his ribs and belly until your nimble fingers find their way beneath the elastic of his pyjama pants, he tries to meet you in the middle, tries to kiss you, but that's not how this game goes.

The hand you'd been using to brace yourself over him pressed against his chest, pressing him back against the porcelain, and you go with him, your cheek pressed to his, lips by his ear, his heavy breathing, desperate panting in your own. The hand on his chest finds his necklace, entangling two fingers in it until it became tight enough that you could feel the hard way he swallowed when you finally wrapped your hand around his achingly hard cock.

"Good boy," you purred into his ear as you worked your hand up and down his cock, already leaking precum into his boxers. Oliver bites down on your shoulder to muffle his moan, and you have to fight to keep your own whimper quiet. The two of you find a rhythm, panting echoing in each other's ears and Oliver's hips rocking to meet your hand each time.

When you move away, Oliver looks momentarily despairing - no, please, don't stop! - in his eyes, but you reassure him with a languid kiss as you ease his pyjama pants down enough to properly free his cock. Now, when you sit back on your heels, he watches you with a dark kind of want in his eyes. Like a cornered animal, unsure of what to expect, but full of anticipation nonetheless; he watches you reach behind yourself to the drain, to the last remnants of Felix's bathwater still clinging to the metal and porcelain. You gather as much of the liquid as you can across your fingers, palms pressing into the mostly diminished puddles.

You can see it when Oliver realises what you're doing, the way his eyes transfixed on your hand as you wrap it around him. Already slick with his own precum, your hand glides with the remnants of Felix's water. Oliver's head drops back against the edge of the tub, mouth open and desperate and gasping, his eyes closed. God he's gorgeous like this.

He coaxes you up to him this time, and you let him, press yourself to him, rocking gently along with the movements of your hand and his hips, close enough to fucking to tease you both. For all this was about Oliver, every part of you felt alive and on fire with need, and seeing him like this, getting him into this state and knowing how he looked at you, how much he wanted you in this moment, it was doing things for you. Fantastic things.

When he gets close, he wraps an arm around you, hand holding the back of your head in a far firmer grip than you'd been anticipating. But there's a thrill about it, about how he holds you so tightly, his lips by your ear as you obligingly speed up to meet the frantic pace of his hips.

"Felix~" he keens, a desperate whimper in your ear amid dizzying, gasping breathes, hot against your neck. And again, Felix's name pulled from Oliver's lips like a desperate prayer for only you to hear. Something about hearing it tips you over the edge, and you realise how close you are in this moment. All it takes is you making the faintest whine, a noise of encouragement -

"Felix, please," Oliver gasps, and your breath catches as you see stars behind your eyes. You barely feel it when Oliver sinks his teeth into your shoulder once more, his orgasm hitting mere moments after yours, cumming all over your hand and his stomach. Finally, Oliver lets you go, eyes wide as you lean back with the widest, satisfied smile. There's blood on his lips, watching you with this unreadable expression as you sit back on your heels again.

Your head's still spinning, endorphins pulsing through your blood alongside the adrenaline.

Neither of you move for a long moment, still sizing each other up it seemed, at least until you raised your hand. Oliver all over you. You won't be the one to back down; his eyes meet yours and you smile, all satisfied and wolfish as you slowly lick your fingers clean. He's transfixed again, watching the way you lap him up.

No-one's ever looked at you like that, like they're desperate for you to devour every inch of them. But the moment can't last, not outside of your memories at least.

You leave in silence, just as you'd arrived, leaving Oliver alone in the bathtub, watching you like he can't quite be sure it wasn't all a dream. You hope he dreams about this, about your blood on his tongue and Felix's name on his lips.

Except you reach for the door handle only to realise it's cracked ajar. Its closed over, door almost flush and closed, but not quite. Huh. You could have sworn... But you shrug off the thought, slipping back into your room and making sure to shut the door properly behind you.

Pyjama pants and underwear both damp for several reasons, you pull them off and quickly toss them into the laundry hamper. At this moment, you can't bring yourself to bother with anything more than a new pair of underwear before you're crawling into bed beside Felix. Who's on his side.

Huh.

Felix never sleeps on his side because it messes with his shoulders. He's also still, like he's holding his breath. When you curl an arm over him, cool hand resting on his chest, you can feel his racing heartbeat. Finally, his breath comes stuttering out. Pressing yourself up against him, you hum faintly, hand drifting lower, teasingly. You rest your hand low on his belly, between the gorgeous, defined lines of his hips, but refusing beneath his waistband. There comes a faint huff from Felix, but it's indecipherable; he's still on edge, clearly having realised that you'd connected all the dots.

When you speak it's practically a moan, voice low but sharp in his ear as you let your fingers dip lower. What a night it will be to remember, spent keeping your boys happy.

"Fi, you fucking pervert."

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #oliver quick x reader #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick smut #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

[cherryshortycake]

Bakugou x Reader (First date)

The sun dipped below the horizon as you anxiously stood outside the agreed-upon cafe, waiting for Bakugou. The air was filled with a mix of excitement and nerves. You couldn't help but wonder how the explosive hero would handle a date. Would he be his usual brash self, or would tonight reveal a different side of him?

Just as you started to fidget with your phone, a familiar voice cut through the evening air, "Oi, (Y/N), don't tell me you've been waiting long."

Turning around, you were met with the sight of Bakugou, dressed in casual attire that still exuded his signature confidence. "Not at all," you replied with a smile. "Shall we?"

He grunted in acknowledgment, and the two of you entered the cafe. The atmosphere inside was cozy, the soft hum of chatter and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloping you. You both found a quiet corner, and as you settled into the conversation, you discovered a side of Bakugou that was surprisingly easygoing.

The evening unfolded with laughter and shared stories, and Bakugou's sharp edges seemed to soften in your company. He even reluctantly admitted to enjoying the calming ambience of the place.

As the night continued, you suggested taking a walk through a nearby park. Under the gentle glow of streetlights, you and Bakugou strolled side by side. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and you couldn't help but notice the subtle touches of vulnerability that peeked through his tough exterior.

Eventually, you found yourselves at a small pond, its surface reflecting the moon above. The atmosphere was serene, a stark contrast to Bakugou's explosive quirk. He seemed deep in thought, and you wondered if he was contemplating something important.

"You know, (Y/N)," he began, his usual bravado giving way to a rare moment of sincerity, "this... wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be." He said with a low soft rasp.

You chuckled, appreciating his honesty. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, Katsuki."

He glanced at you, his gaze holding a hint of something more. "Yeah, well, maybe I don't hate this dating crap as much as I thought."

As the words hung in the air, an unspoken tension built between you. Bakugou took a step closer, his gaze locked onto yours. The air crackled with a different kind of energy – one that wasn't explosive but held the promise of something more tender.

"Hey, (Y/N)," he said, his voice a bit softer than usual, "there's something I've been wanting to do."

Before you could respond, Bakugou cupped your face with one hand and pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was unexpected, yet it felt like a natural extension of the evening – a culmination of shared laughter, vulnerability, and a connection that had been quietly forming.

When he pulled away, Bakugou's usual gruff demeanor returned, though his eyes held a newfound warmth. "Don't get all sentimental on me. It's just... whatever. I don't hate you, alright?"

You couldn't help but smile at his attempt to downplay the moment. "I don't hate you either, Katsuki."

And so, under the moonlit sky, you and Bakugou walked back, hand in hand. The explosive hero had shown you a side rarely seen by others, and in that quiet moment, you knew that something special had ignited – a spark that would continue to burn, casting a warm glow on the path ahead.

-----------------------------------------------

A week had passed since that memorable night with Bakugou. As the days went by, the atmosphere at U.A. High School's dorms seemed to buzz with an energy that transcended the usual hero-in-training intensity. Rumors had circulated, and classmates couldn't help but notice a subtle change in Bakugou's demeanor.

In the common room, where students gathered for study sessions or to unwind, Bakugou was spotted sitting next to you. The explosive hero's usual scowl was replaced with a more tempered expression, though he vehemently denied any softening when questioned by his friends.

One evening, as you and Bakugou sat on the rooftop, enjoying the view of the city lights, he grumbled, "Don't think this means anything. I just... felt like sitting here."

You chuckled, leaning into him. "Sure, Katsuki. Just enjoying the view, huh?"

He shot you a sidelong glance, his cheeks tinted with a hint of red. "Shut up. It's not like I care about this stuff."

But actions spoke louder than words. Bakugou surprised everyone by suggesting a group outing to a nearby amusement park. Classmates exchanged surprised glances, wondering if they had entered an alternate reality.

As the day at the park unfolded, Bakugou, though maintaining his tough exterior, showed a newfound willingness to participate in group activities. He even reluctantly agreed to go on a roller coaster, the screams of excitement and laughter echoing through the air.

Back at the dorms, as the night settled in, you and Bakugou found yourselves on the same rooftop where your journey had begun. The city lights sparkled below, mirroring the warmth in your hearts.

"I guess... the amusement park wasn't the worst idea," Bakugou admitted, his usual gruffness laced with a rare hint of satisfaction.

You grinned, playfully nudging his shoulder. "Admit it, Katsuki. You had fun."

He huffed, avoiding eye contact. "Whatever. Don't get used to it."

As the night continued, the two of you shared quiet moments, the unspoken connection between you growing stronger. It became evident to your classmates that something had shifted in Bakugou's world, and though he vehemently denied it, his actions told a different story.

In the days that followed, Bakugou surprised you with small gestures – a shared snack during study sessions, a protective glance in the midst of hero training, and the occasional softened expression when he thought no one was looking.

One evening, as you both sat in the common room, he turned to you, his gaze more earnest than usual. "This... whatever it is, don't expect me to start being all lovey-dovey or anything."

You chuckled, appreciating his honesty. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Katsuki."

And so, the U.A. dorms continued to buzz with the everyday chaos of hero training, but a new layer had been added – a connection that had ignited between you and Bakugou, casting a warm glow on the path ahead.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #reqs open #mha bakugou #bakugou x you #my hero academia

[iveriee]

★;CATEGORY: A yandere x Reader

★;PAIRING: Yan!Tom Riddle x Gn!Reader.

★;SUMMARY: In which, he gets utterly envious of your s/o.

★;PS: This contains severe mentions of abusive and obsessive behaviours, Henceforth if you are uncomfortable with any of such topics, Please do not read this. I do not encourage toxic behaviour and this is only a work of fiction. I'm aware that I should be writing Part 3 of the Yule Ball fic, However, I've decided not to continue it. I deeply apologize, i just did not have any ideas on how to continue it. However, if you have any sort of suggestions, please let me know. I'll write anything as long as it's relevant and appropriate. I understand the anxiety of requesting a scenario at times, I quite literally am terrified of doing so myself.

★;EXTRA QUESTION: What's your favorite Taylor Swift song and why?

To say your life was mundane would be an understatement—Boredom filled your senses, even if it was Hogwarts you were attending. But perhaps, the truthful reason was that you did not share any classes with s/o/n. Your state was truly pitiable, Words engraved on pages were mere symbols to you—Questions, Paragraphs,Instructions, Incantations, etc all demolished right out of your mind like a prompt broom. The ending of classes were one of the only things that brought you joy. On a fretful Tuesday, you hurried out of the dungeon, sprinting profusely, eventually concluding by frisking right on s/o/n, legs enclosed on their waist.

"[Name]?" They questioned, astonished by your actions.

"I really missed you..." You murmured in response. "I wish we had classes together. I don't particularly enjoy studying anymore.."

Their expression configured into a frown. "[Name], you know you have to study. I don't want you to fail." Their hands found the route to your hair, fondling it dotingly(which, of course, made you grin) only to place you back on the ground.. "Please. I only want what's best for you." They added delicately.

However, you were not even aware of the most crucial thing. In the midst of your affections with s/o/n, You had been utterly and completely examined by none other than Tom Riddle. His envy and infatuation had been rooted extensively, like a coping plant—growing and growing until it surpasses the garden, destroying it in the process. He had harboured a bitter hatred towards s/o/n, so much so it turned into desires of murder. Why couldn't you comprehend how much he was better than them? He was the ideal student...with precisely placed dark curls, a charismatic (albeit untrue) smile, excellent grades, beloved by everyone..And so in many's eyes, even flawless...could it perhaps be that you were aware of his true nature? No. It simply was not decipherable. You could not have been aware. However, he should focus on you at this moment...he told himself..(or perhaps reassured?)... He could have perhaps done anything for you, anything to please you,whether it was unjust or not, yet this was what he received in turn? Perhaps he should have tortured you until you submitted. But then again, he could not watch you sobbing.

So, henceforth, it all led to you weeping nevertheless. The exception being that it was over s/o/n's corpse, not wounded, not varnished but frigid. Cold. Their eyes were vacant, no longer were they gazing at you gently. And they never would.Never again would you sprint to them after class and embrace them.... s/o/n was dead. And tears crowded your eyes, plummeting down your cheeks. How could somebody be so vicious? How could somebody use the killing curse on them without a second thought? Why was the world so brutal? Perhaps..you should have studied. After all, they did not wish for you to fail in your O.W.LS...

And so Riddle concealed his smirk and approached you, his ego calloused when you did not turn your gaze at him. His hand idled on your shoulders, in an almost comforting manner. "I sincerely apologise for your loss, [Last name]." He murmured, almost seductively if it weren't for your grief. Mine he wondered to himself. They are rightfully mine.

#harry potter #hp fandom #tom marvolo riddle #lord voldemort #yandere tom riddle #tom riddle #male yandere #yandere #jealousy #tom riddle x reader #yandere x reader #yandere tom riddle x reader

[g1rld1ary]

tell me when you're sober ; sirius black x gn!gryffindor!reader

➻ yayay my first sirius fic !!

➻ word count: 2042

➻ synopsis: drunk at a house party, sirius calls the reader and confesses something he shouldn't have

➻ warnings: mentions of alcohol & being drunk, swearing, a little angst (maybe??), happy ending, kissing, gn pronouns (lmk if I've missed any!)

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You were lying on your bed at home, content with your cozy night in. The newest Ella Fitzgerald record playing softly from the corner; a candle burning on your nightstand. You’d completed an extensive self care routine, feeling fresh, healthy and calm as you settled into your newest novel — a romance that had you dreaming of one of your closest friends.

Sirius Black was one of your best friends in the whole world. Both being Gryffindors, you had pretty much grown up together, and somewhere along the way you’d developed feelings for him against your will. But how could you not? He was beautiful, charming, and always managed to make you laugh; even the longest nights studying in the common room weren’t quite as tedious when he was hanging around — as much as you’d complain about him ‘bothering’ you. Whilst you knew he wouldn’t ever reciprocate your feelings and you would remain just friends, you were mostly content with that fact. You were filled with the type of love for him that was somewhat satisfied as long as you could express it, regardless of if it was under the guise of platonic affection. Still, that resignation didn’t stop you from imagining Sirius as the love interest in the novels you read; reciting poetry and executing grand gestures in your head.

The phone ringing down the hall brought you from your daze, and you tried to focus on the words written on the page until your mother knocked on your bedroom door, saying the call was for you. Curiously, you crawled out of bed, straightening your pyjamas as you hurried to the phone attached to the wall just outside of the kitchen.

“Hello?” You didn’t know what to expect, but your face softened to a smile when you heard the reply.

“My gorgeous y/n!” Sirius sang, consonants slightly slurred. You knew your friends were at a house party tonight, one that you’d politely declined despite Sirius’ insistence in you being there. It wasn’t your scene, and the group had organised a quieter games night at James’ place the night after, so you weren’t worried about missing too much.

“What are you doing, Black? Shouldn’t you be dancing on a table somewhere?” You teased, laughing lightly at the memory of one party you did attend, and the absolute fool Sirius had made of himself to Bennie and the Jets. He hummed in agreement.

“I was. But I wanted to talk to my favourite person — ‘ve missed you.”

“You’re seeing me tomorrow, Sirius. I’m sure you can hold on sixteen more hours?” You could practically see Sirius shaking his head no, childish pout on his lips. That was how you knew he was pretty drunk, he always got whiny and overly affectionate.

“But that’s with everyone, I miss you,” You both loved and hated when he flirted with you like this; you knew it was a joke but it still made you weak in the knees. “Tell me about your day.” You sighed, knowing that it was chatting to him or worrying about the dumb inebriated decisions he would no doubt make, so you started.

You gave him a run through of your day, sliding down the wall to be in a seated position as you realised it would probably be a long call. You told him about the summer deep clean you’d powered through and the subsequent self care night you had definitely earned. He listened intently, and you could occasionally hear him hum into the phone or interject with a one word response, just so you knew he was paying attention. You’d launched into a recap of your novel so far when you realised he hadn’t spoken in several minutes. Worrying he’d passed out or lost interest in your ramblings you tapered off.

“Sirius? You there?” He hummed an affirmation. “Oh. Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s just…” He trailed off and you frowned, holding the silence so he’d continue. “I love you.”

You sighed in relief. You two, and the rest of the friendship group, said ‘I love you’ all the time, it was never something to be apprehensive about.

“You know I love you too, Black. I’m still on the phone aren’t I?” You laughed, twirling the yellow cord around your freshly painted (but almost definitely dry) fingers. You heard him groan over the phone and faltered again.

“No, y/n. I’m fucking in love with you.”

You almost dropped the phone you were so surprised. You felt your heart beating against your chest, both in excitement and panic. He didn’t mean it, he couldn’t. Maybe Remus had broken his promise and told Sirius about your crush on him and this was all some kind of sick joke. Sirius Black was not in love with you — you had seen him grinding and making out with Marissa from the year above at the end of year party, and that was only a few weeks ago. All the possible joy that had crept into the edges of your heart was extinguished, and instead anger bloomed, spreading to the tips of your fingers, which brought the receiver back up to your face.

“Hang up and tell me when you’re sober.” With that you slammed the phone back on the wall, hot tears building behind your eyes, threatening to fall. You stumbled blindly back into your bedroom, both red hot rage and crushing sadness obscuring your vision.

Safely in bed, you let the tears fall. How dare he? You were the one who had pined after him for years, made peace with the fact that you would never hear those words out of his mouth for you, and for what? For him to rip out your heart because he was drunk and bored? Did he think it was funny? Did he even know what he was doing to you? You sobbed into the stuffed dog Sirius had given you for your last birthday, before the anger resurfaced and you launched it across the room, slamming your head into the pillow as the toy made a dull thud against the wall.

You almost didn’t go to James’ game night the next evening. You reasoned it would just be too humiliating, Sirius would crow about the girl he had hooked up with after you’d ended the call — or even worse make fun of you about the supposed confession. No, you were more than ready to call in sick and spend the night pitying yourself over a fat bowl of ice cream. However, when James called around midday begging you to bring your ‘world famous’ white chocolate brownies “And your sweet face, of course,” how could you refuse? And so you got dressed in your confidence outfit; pulling your hair into your favourite style. You needed all the help you could get today.

Standing in front of James’ door you sucked in a breath. Trying to put an easy smile on your face, it faltered when Sirius was the one to welcome you inside. He grinned when he saw you, which made the flicker of anger spark once more. How could he act like he didn’t just say he was in love with you?

“Hey everyone, y/n’s here!” He called, and you could the hear the stampede of footsteps as your friends all came out to greet you. Your smile returned involuntarily as Remus pulled you into a strong hug, which was copied by each of the girls. James, conversely, dropped to the floor in a position of worship as you presented the tray of brownies.

You all sat around the fire, chatting easily as James painstakingly set up the game of Monopoly in front of you.

“Man, I don’t remember a thing from last night,” Sirius said, reclining back in an armchair. Everyone laughed but you, and you fought with your brain to keep your features relaxed as you stared at him.

“Be grateful for that,” Lily laughed, counting out game money in piles. “You made an utter tool of yourself.”

“Yeah, rambling about Merlin knows what all bloody night; you were nonsensical,” Marlene teased and you cast your eyes down to study your fingers, picking at the already chipping polish. That’s why Sirius had acted like nothing was wrong, he didn’t even remember he’d said it. Only you were left with your whole world changed, and the bastard didn’t even have to suffer the memories of it. Suddenly you were overcome with the urge to take the beer Peter was offering you, downing half the bottle in two gulps.

“What’s got you all riled up, love?” Remus asked and you stuttered, unable of course to tell him the truth. Eyeing James’ finished set up you created a lie.

“Getting ready to dominate you all in Monopoly, duh.”

After that night, you couldn’t face Sirius. You weren’t avoiding him, per se, you could never do that. But you weren’t making any effort to see him, and you were proud of that self restraint. At dinners you’d sit next to your other friends, not looking at him unless he addressed you directly. Between classes you’d take off without waiting for him, claiming you were already stressed about the workload. Your friends could tell something was wrong, but no one could figure out what — seemingly not even Sirius.

Until one Friday night. It was unusually quiet, no parties planned or adventures to be had, and so you and your friends had taken over the Gryffindor common room, laughing and talking over the radio and the crackling of the fireplace.

“Firewhiskey, Pads?” James offered, but Sirius shook his head.

“Not tonight.” He smiled, sparing a casual glance to you. You weren’t looking at him, pretending to be engrossed in Lily’s conversation, but you couldn’t help but be slightly concerned. When did Sirius ever turn down a drink? Especially on a Friday night. You shook your head slightly, it wasn’t your problem anymore, you were still mad at him.

Eventually the night wound down, everyone heading back up to their respective dorm room one by one, tired out by the week. When you look up from the novel you’d been engrossed in for the past half hour, you were shocked by the fact that it was just you and Sirius left. Stranger than that was that Sirius wasn’t even doing anything, just staring blankly at the fire as his leg bounced aggressively.

You got up quickly, collecting your things in the attempt of a smooth escape. No such luck. Sirius stood to stop you and you stepped back carefully.

“What are you doing, Sirius?” You asked, forcefully avoiding his steely gaze.

“I’m in love with you.” You faltered, meeting his eyes to search for hidden meaning. You found none.

“What?”

“I’m in love with you, stupid. And I’m sure as hell sober right now, you can ask anyone.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you realised what all this meant. He had told the truth on that phone call and you had not only hung up on him, but also got mad and avoided him. Despite his feelings being more than reciprocated. The burning anger that had made a home in your stomach recently dissolved into butterflies, and a smile grew. Sirius relaxed as he saw your body language change, and chanced a tentative step towards you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Your eyes shone in the firelight and Sirius couldn’t help but pull you closer towards him, arms wrapped around your waist.

“I thought, I mean I was worried—” You cut him off by holding his cheeks in your palms, pressing a soft kiss on his lips, one which he hungrily chased. You laughed and indulged him, the two of you holding each other carefully, lips moving slowly, exploring the other.

“Just so we’re clear,” You teased, “I’m pretty in love with you too, Black.”

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ #the marauders #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards #james potter #the marauders era #sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #marauders fanfiction #sirius black fic #sirius black fluff #sirius black oneshot #sirius orion black #mild angst #fluff #love #harry potter #remus lupin #lily evans

[saintslewis]

❝ get you ❞

pairing: Lando Norris x black fem! reader

summary: joining a specific group of youtubers on their channel wasn't something you'd envisioned for yourself but your friend, Ria, managed to get you into Quadrant. How Lando reacts is for you to keep reading 🤭.

warnings: a few…implications, outfit descriptions

taglist: @thisismeracing @goldsainz

saint’s team radio: I’ve had this idea for a while now but i had to get fully into Lando and now that i am, i hope you enjoy this 🫶🏽 (sorry if there are any typos!)

Switching the engine off, your platform Doc Martens stepped onto the rocky ground as you exited out of your sky blue bmw e30, definitely turning a few heads that were outside the warehouse you and the Quadrant members were going to be filming in today.

Fixing the maxi skirt that clung to you, you closed your car door and felt a buzz from your phone. Ria sent you a message that she was coming to you only for you to hear your name being called by your friend. "Y/n! Oh my days hi!" Ria exclaimed with a big smile on her face as she ran towards you.

Embracing each other, you two swayed for a few moments before letting go. "I haven't seen you in forever! I've missed you loads." You expressed, still holding hands and now walking away from your car, double checking that it's locked.

"Ugh, you have no idea how boring it is as the only girl on the team," Ria rolled her eyes, earning a laugh from you. "But you'll love it here, promise that. Also, just get ready for a lot internet attention because it will get to ya." She informed, pulling you into the large doors of the warehouse where you saw that they were setting up for an eventful video.

Ria brought her hand to shell her mouth, "Oi boys! Someone's here that I want you to meet!" She yelled over to the group of guys sitting around a table, laughing. All of them stood up with excitement on their faces as they came closer to the two of you.

"Hi, I'm Y/n." You introduced yourself with a small wave and a smile on your face, maintaining eye contact with all of them. "Well hello, I'm Max, this is Ethan, Aarav, Niran and Steve and i have no clue where Lando is but he'll be here soon. And over there is my girlfriend, Piper." Max introduced himself and the rest of the guys along with a girl standing with one of the camera ladies. "It's very nice to meet all of you. Hopefully I'll be here long enough to give you nicknames." You joked, and they all smiled at you. Before anyone could say another word, you heard a voice behind you booming from the entrance.

"Guys, did you see that e30 outside? It's gorgeous!" The boy with curly brown hair that flopped around as he walked closer to the group kept looking back at your car until he lost sight of it. The guys' faces seemed to lighten up even more when the boy mentioned the car and they all scurried to see it for themselves, all rambling on about not having seen one in a long time. Your felt Ria's arm go around your shoulders as the boy eventually walked up to you guys.

"Lando, how nice of you to join us today!" You could hear the sarcasm coming from Ria and you couldn't hide your smile from her tone. "Hello to you Ria." He greeted Ria with a fake smile and she mocked right back. He then moved his attention to you, the woman standing next to one of his best friends. Lando couldn't help but quickly study your face before he could formally introduce himself. The way the sun from the warehouse skylight shone on you made it seem as if you were an angel who had just descended from heaven. Your dark brown eyes were an infinite pool to get lost into and he noticed how the small eyelash extensions suited your face so much. Your lipgloss was basically calling his name for him to get a taste but he did not want to seem forward.

He knew he would have work hard in order to be with someone as majestic as you and you two have barely met. "Hi, I'm Lando." He shakily let out and he watched as your lips turned into a smile, one that revealed the tooth gem you had. "I'm Y/n, nice to meet ya." You said, keeping the eye contact between you two quite strong, well until Ria cleared her throat quite loudly next to the both of you. "Okay! Could feel it from a mile away." Ria's cheeks were basically hurting from the smile she had from seeing her two best friends slowly falling for each other.

Snapping out of the trance, you and Lando both looked at Ria with confusion. "Feel what?" You both asked simultaneously, not even thinking about her comment as the rest of the group came inside, gushing over your car. "Geez that car is beautiful! I wonder who's it is." Niran chatted. "It's mine, Glad you like it." You verbalised, seeing their faces turn to one of shock as you laughed at their reactions.

Lando was fighting to not let out a groan as he continued to observe you as you fell into conversation with the rest of the guys, earning a few belly laughs as you told a joke. He loved that you looked up into his eyes with every word you uttered. He gazed at your skin, how soft it looked and don't even get him started with your scent. The smells of vanilla mixed with a floral yet musky touch was a scent he could live with forever, wishing he would have the scent embedded into everything he owns.

"Oh, i'll be paired with Lando?" You wondered aloud and looked at the boy who was spaced out. Hearing his name brought him back to reality and he was so happy when he heard his name fall out of your lips, your voice slowly becoming one of his favourite sounds.

-

"And please do welcome the newest member of Quadrant, Y/n!" Lando announced and the group along with the crew behind the cameras cheered. You waved to the camera with a big smile, your tooth gem on display. "So Y/n, would you like to explain what's happening for today's video?" Max asked whilst rocking back and forth. "I would love to!" You smiled and looked at the camera. "Today, we are going to be putting our baking skills to the test by pairing up and racing around London, looking for special ingredients for each pair to make a cake that will be decorated in light of the Silverstone Grand Prix next week!" You expressed your words with such enthusiasm, making the others cheer. You had most definitely noticed Lando standing quite close to you and leaning his arm on your shoulder, making it seem as if you two had been friends for longer than the cameras can pick up.

As the others said their pieces for the intro of the video, your stomach swarmed with butterflies as you felt Lando shift his body to no longer lean on you but to rather place his arm around you. You could already see the comments that will be rolling in once this video will be released. You knew it was already going to be quite the stir to run around London for ingredients with Lando as you knew who he was so you hoped the attention would be on the topic of the video rather than you too.

"We have already established teams of two before filming thanks to the lovely game of rock paper scissors." Steve said and you couldn't help but slightly laugh because you knew it wasn't true and you had assigned partners for yourselves. Before filming, you all were handed GoPro cameras to film your adventures around London and you held it quite securely, making sure that the main camera could not see you holding the GoPro.

"Okay, so we have an hour and a half to get all the ingredients and two hours to make the cakes. The timer starts..now!" As soon as Max finished his sentence, you all scrambled to the entrance to go to your cars. "Lando, who's do we take?" You asked, turning on the small camera and looking at Lando who held your hand and guided you towards his McLaren 765LT. You tried not to look too excited around the car so you kept your internal screams to yourself. Lando had unlocked the car and opened the butterfly door for you, not even noticing that he had descretely held his hand over your head in order for you to enter the car without bumping your head on the car roof but the camera most definitely captured the footage.

Once he ignited the car, you two took off in first place with the others trailing behind you. "So where to, Mr Norris?" You asked as you securely placed the camera on the dash. Oh how Lando hoped that the editors would cut out all the blushing and flirty moments between you two because clearly there's going to be a lot of footage of that. "The only one i can really think of is Tesco in Oxford. You can have the aux by the way." He suggested, giving the aux cord to you and resorting to one hand driving as he was familiar with the area.

"It's a Thursday so I don't think it would be that full but just to be safe, we could try this supermarket in Kensington." You suggested and you could feel his eyes on you as he processed your reply. "I just took a young drive around that area a while ago and I got hungry so I stopped by to see what was there." You informed, flicking through your music as you finally picked a song that you thought he would enjoy. The sound of 'Headshots (locals)' by Isaiah Rashad blasted through the McLaren's speakers. Immediately, his head began nodding along and he watched as you sang along and danced to the music, he knew that it was going to be cut from the video because of copyright issues but he absolutely loved seeing you like this. "Okay, sorry, I had to hear that song. Let me get the gps going." You apologised and he brushed it off. "It's okay, don't worry." He said, itching to hold your hand but he did not want to cross any boundaries.

The gps showed up on the display screen of the car and showed him the quickest way to get to the supermarket without any traffic. "Do you know how to bake?" You asked, shifting your body to face his as he drove. You knew how awkward car rides with strangers were but you were determined to make him comfortable with you. "Barely, it's not one of the talents i have." He answered, making you chuckle. "So you'll push the cart around then?" You joked, turning your attention to type the ingredients into your notes app. "It's my main purpose in life to push the cart around." His face remained serious but not for long as you two began laughing.

"If it's edible, can we split it halfsies?" He proposed, putting his foot down on the gas pedal, accelerating the car to go faster. Immediately feeling the speed, you held onto anything that was close and that just happened to be Lando's large hand that wasn't on the steering wheel and the fluorescent green seatbelt around you. As you were approaching a red light, he eventually slowed down and looked at you only for him to began cackling, feeling the tears in his eyes already. "Your face!" He cracked up only for you to playfully roll your eyes at him.

"For your information Lan, that cake will be edible because of the bakery we own back home." You proudly said, smiling into the camera as he calmed down from his laughter and looked at you with a smile that made the butterflies in his stomach flutter. Lando could feel his face get warmer and his ears were most definitely red from just looking at you. Talking to you and making you laugh makes him feel like such an accomplishment to him, one that he would cherish for a long time.

Taking your attention away from the camera and onto the road, you could see the supermarket straight ahead. "Oh there it is, Lan!" You pointed it out as you entered a small neighbourhood road. It had all types of flowers and plants outside of it and it looked quite big so he was quite confident that they would find everything they needed. "What flavour should we make?" You asked as he was looking for a good parking spot and reversed parked his car. "Vanilla? Or maybe red velvet?" He shrugged his shoulders as he switched the car off and exited the car to open your door for you. He held out his hand for you in order for you to exit the car gracefully.

"Vanilla's good." You nodded as you leaned back into the car to grab the camera and your shoulder bag and oh my, did you give this man a sight to see. Although your maxi skirt covered everything from your hips to your shoes, you bending over into the car had the boy imagining things that would get him into trouble. He didn't want to think of you in such a way on the first day of meeting each other but you were so captivating to him. You, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing to Lando. You really could've packed your shoulder bag and the camera before getting out of the car but you just wanted to mess with him because you could feel his eyes on you every time you did anything. You never had quite the charm before so to see someone like him folding for you was something that you wanted to continue.

"Okay I got everything. Could you please hold the camera while I go get a cart?" You asked as you handed the camera to Lando who looked visibly flustered at your previous actions. Leaving him with the camera to grab the last big cart outside, he quickly closed the car door and securely locked it, rushing over to you. "Let's go to the dairy section first." He suggested and took control of the cart so that you could get the ingredients because you actually know what you're doing.

-

"It seems like we've all we need but we need a specific colour for the icing." Your eyebrows furrowed as you scrolled through your web browser to look for food colouring bottles. Seeing your frustration, he came over to your side but he still couldn't see it clearly. Going with the bold move, he placed his hands on the handle, hovering over you with your back nearly touching his front and his head leaning towards yours. "The one with the edible glitter that goes with it?" He asked, his voice quite low and close to your ear, feeling his hair touch the side of your forehead. Your breath hitched as you felt him this close to you, your heart skipping a beat as his scent enveloped you. You couldn't get the words out so you opted to nod. Leaning his head a bit more towards your face to take a closer look at your phone, he looked away at all the food colouring and extras that you were both standing next to and immediately spotted exactly what you were looking for.

His warmth moved away as he placed the final item into the cart. Looking at his face, he had seemed so nonchalant about what he just did and you quickly looked over at the camera that was perched up onto the cart and it captured the whole thing. You chose to switch the camera off until you got back into the car and you knew that had to be cut out. Realising that you hadn't moved from your spot, Lando came up to you with concern written all over his face. "What's-" "I don't want to end up on the gossip pages, Lan so when the cameras on, can we keep a friendly distance?" You pleaded quietly, looking around to see if anyone had noticed him. The white graphic tee, shorts and af1 combo wouldn't get him noticed but maybe he could be because of the black McLaren cap he wore backwards, an simple yet effective outfit that made your knees weak.

"And when they're off?" He voiced, coming closer to you as he looked to his side through his peripheral vision and immediately grabbed your waist for a hug. You threw your arms around his neck in confusion and looked at what had captured his attention, a few people peering into the aisle you were in with their phones recording. He hid his face into your neck, the beard scratching your skin a bit as he tried to avoid his lips touching your neck but failed, goosebumps raising as you felt his lips there. The eager group that had spotted Lando were walking into your aisle looking utterly confused as they continued to stare at the two of you. "Lan, just follow along. Hug tighter." You instructed and he did as he was told. "Oh my god! Thank you baby! I love Bora Bora so much!" You began squealing and slightly in his arms as he began swaying the two of you. You secretly switched a ring from your right hand to your left one as you watched as their smiles switched to congratulatory ones as they quickly walked past you and exited the aisle. You tapped his shoulder so that he could lift his head. "Are they gone yet?" He asked into your neck as he slowly lifted his head. "Yeah, I think it's safer you go to the car and then i'll meet you there with everything, okay?" He nodded then dug into his pocket and handed you his card from his wallet and before you could even decline the card, he held your hand and placed his card into your palm. "Don't even. When you're anywhere with me, you can't use your money." He grinned and left before you could respond, leaving you with a smile onto your face.

-

Closing the front trunk of his car for him, he carried the shopping bags into the warehouse which had been decorated to look like those large kitchens in reality cooking shows. You were the second pair to arrive on set with Ria and Aarav being the first ones. “You made it!” Ria exclaimed as she ran towards you and pushed Lando away even though he wasn’t necessarily in your way. It was a quick hug then she pulled you to the side with Lando putting the items onto one of the kitchen sets.

“Babe, you have to tell me everything that happened.” Ria whispered with the most teasing smile on her face. “Ria, why are you assuming we have anything going on?” You lifted your eyebrow at your best friend. She gave you a look and that made you cave in. “Ugh fine, we went to a store in Kensington that I genuinely thought wouldn’t have any fans and I ‘saved’ him but that’s all I’m telling you.” You said with a cheeky smile and walked away from her as you heard her call you back. Standing next to Lando’s crouched position, you watched as he looked at the oven confused and you helped him pre heat it. He looked up at you with eyes that couldn’t hide what he thought and that gave you chills down your spine.

After a chaotic but fun three hours of baking and chasing each other around with icing, you and Lando were named the winners thanks to your amazing baking and decorating skills. Wrapping up filming, you said goodbye to everyone and thanked them for an amazing first day but Lando didn’t want to let you go just as yet so he decided to take you out for dinner just to ‘welcome you into the team’ and invite you to his home race. “But isn’t that all for friends and family? I wouldn’t want to intrude Norris.” You spoke and he shook his head as he held your soft hand. “I want my lucky charm to be there with me.” He said staring into your eyes and you broke out a smile. “Okay we’re going to have to work on your rizz but the answer is yes, I’ll go.” You giggled as he placed his head in his hands and laughed.

-

yourinstagram

liked by yourfriend, landonorris and 256,478 others

yourinstagram congratulations muppet 🫶🏽 (can’t believe he got me to like papaya orange but it’s okay bc he got p2)

view comments

landonorris thank you, mother of Skye 🩷

user WHO TF IS SKYE

yourinstagram my car, she’s sky blue and Lan named her

user idk how her and lando aren’t dating yet. the chemistry in that cake video??? UNMATCHED

user when she helped him with the weird fans>>>>

user when he leaned over her to look at the screen better??? i died and came back

yourinstagram you guys saw that? 😧

user girl we saw everything

lilymhe it was amazing meeting you my love! 💗

yourinstagram you too!!! see you soon 🤍

riabish papaya orange is soooo your colour 🤭

yourinstagram do you want to get me in trouble? 😭

landonorris thank you for being my lucky charm

yourinstagram ofc love 🫂

landonorris now could you please come back to the room

danielricciardo there are kids on this app????

yourinstagram Daniel shhhhhhh

f1wag_updates new wag???

yourinstagram girl 🧍🏽‍♀️

user so he’s no longer Lando No rizz?

user seems like he’s always had the rizz 😋

landonorris woah hey are you free Friday bc i’m free Friday?

yourinstagram yes i am 😚

#formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x reader #x black reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x black reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #Spotify

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 29: Sectumsempra

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Bathroom scene / blood / talk about dying [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

Time passes by easily with Theodore by your side. Before you know it, the temperature outside is slowly rising. The days are spent outside, on a blanket wearing Theo’s hoodie and his head on your lap. 

Hermione has also been spending a lot more time with you. She and Ron are not on speaking terms since he has gotten into a relationship with a girl you're not bothering to learn her name. Because if Hermione dislikes her, by extension so do you. And Theodore. It's the golden rule of friendship.

Harry's been too occupied with whatever he is doing with Dumbledore and that potions book he's always carrying around. Hermione has been complaining about it, how dangerous it is and that he doesn't know if this Half-Blood Prince is even trustworthy.

And Draco... He has looked worse for wear. The Dark Lord has been hammering about the importance of Draco's mission and he's scared to fail. He's getting desperate.

You look over to the brown-haired boy next to you, your head resting on your hands. He's dutifully studying, quill scribbling away some notes for a test you're supposed to take tomorrow.

"You're starring", mumbles Theo without lifting his eyes off the paper.

You shuffle closer to him, keeping your eyes on him. "Am I not allowed to look at you?"

He gives you a playful look and bumps his knee against yours. He looks at the other side of the Great Hall, towards the Golden trio. "Have you heard what happened to Weasley?"

That makes you look over. Something must have happened because Hermione and Ron are sitting next to each other again while his girlfriend is nowhere in sight. "No?"

Theo pushes his parchment away, fully turning his attention towards you. "Apparently he got poisoned by Professor Slughorn. He and Potter were in the professor's office and got something to drink and Weasley almost died. He also broke up with Lavender in his sleep."

"I didn't know you were so into Hogwarts gossip", you say, eyebrows raised.

He crosses his arms over each other. "I don't. Blaise and Enzo however won't shut up at night and it's driving me mad." He runs his hands over his face and lets them rest in his hair.

You hum, resting your cheek against his arm. "Why don't you come hang out in my room, Teddy? My roommates bring their boyfriends over all the time."

He glances at you through his fingers. "I've tried. But the stairs only allow boys in the girl's dormitories if a girl accompanies them."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "You've tried?"

Theodore pulls you closer to him by your knees, draping them over his legs. He lays a hand on your back so you can sit comfortably. "Believe me, baby, I've tried many different times and methods. Even with a broom the castle somehow finds a way to stop me..."

He pecks your lips and you giggle, pushing his face away and looking around if someone's looking.

And as your eyes are scanning around you spot Katie Bell walking in with her friend, a nervous look on her face as people whisper and point at her. Multiple people go up to her, hugging her and whatnot. 

“Holy shit, Teddy.” You nod towards the Gryffindor girl who was cursed a couple of weeks ago. “I didn’t know she was released from St Mungo’s.”

Theo whips his head around and looks at the girl. "I didn't even know she was sent to St Mungo's."

"Guess Blaise and Enzo don't know everything." You poke your tongue out with a smile. Theo rolls his eyes, doing the same.

Behind Theodore, you see Draco entering the Great Hall. He stops in his tracks as he sees Katie Bell talking with Harry. He looks scared and guilty. He turns around and hurries out of the Great Hall.

"I have to check up on Draco", you say hurriedly, pressing a kiss against Theo's cheek and haste after your cousin. You find him in a bathroom, his tie discarded on the floor as he rocks himself back and forth. Water is running as your eyes meet.

He turns around and begins to sob. You rush towards him and embrace him, letting him clutch your blouse as he cries. 

"I know what you did, Malfoy. You cursed her, didn't you?"

The two of you turn around at the sudden sound of Harry's voice. He stands at the entrance of the toilets. You quickly push Draco behind you, your hand on your wand.

You want to say, "you don't know what you're talking about, Harry", but before you finish your sentence, Draco's throwing a spell over your shoulder at the bespectacled boy.

You let out a yelp as Harry bearly dodges the spell and Draco pulls you towards the stalls. You press yourself against the wall, your chest raising rapidly. Draco drops to his knees and aims at Harry, who sends one back.

Multiple toilets explode, flooding the room. Your shoes and socks are drenched and you can barely think straight. You run towards the exit. But through a mirror you see Harry approach your cousin, who's not aware Harry has rounded the stall to the other side.

In an act of pure desperation, you push Draco away from Harry's incoming hex and it hits you instead.

You fall to the ground, the feeling of invisible swords slashing your face and body has you rasping and gasping for air. Your back and hair are drenched with water as you lay limply on the ground. 

A pair of hands press against the gushing wounds as your head rolls to the side, eyes drooping as you watch the foggy windows. Draco cries above you, begging you to stay awake while he yells for help.

You've always suspected that you would die young. That someone discovered who your father is and that they would take revenge. Or that you would die at the hands of Voldemort. But you never expected it to be on the drenched tiles of the boy's bathroom, Draco weeping and begging.

A dark blob appears above your dwindling field of vision. You search for Draco, to see if the curse hit him too. But as you turn your head, you see Harry Potter backing away from you, his blue eyes focused on your slowly dying body. You see him run out of the bathroom before you close your eyes for a final time, welcoming the darkness.

You don't remember much between passing out in the puddle of your own blood to waking up in the Hospital Wing. Only two red-rimmed brown eyes, tucking you in.

When you finally wake, your body is sore. Your limbs ache and it hurts to breathe. You groan as you move, and immediately a pair of hands are helping you sit up, fluffing your pillow. Squeezing your eyes shut, you feel around for a familiar pair of hands. 

"Teddy?" Your voice is hoarse and your throat feels like sandpaper. You cough and a glass of water gets brought up to your lips. Drinking much hurts and you push the glass away. "What happened?"

"Potter hit you with some curse that was meant for Draco. Luckily, Professor Snape could somewhat reverse the damage." He lifts up your blouse and a range of slashing scars adorn your stomach and presumably also your chest and arms. "You're pretty face is luckily fine."

Theodore comes into your view as he goes to sit on the hospital bed. A gasp leaves your lips as his eye sports a blooming bruise and his lip is split. He cradles your face and brings his forehead against yours. "You should see the other guy", he whispers before you have the chance to ask.

You grab his hand and he hisses. Theo's knuckles are busted up and bleeding again. He pulls his hand away from yours and wipes the blood on his trousers. "Don't you worry, okay? I've dealt with it and you're safe."

Looking away, your eyes travel across the infirmary. You and Theodore are the only ones, an oil lamp burns on the desk of the matron and gives the only source of light — outside of the sudden lighting that gives the large room an eerie look.

"Will you stay with me?", you whisper, glancing up at Theo. His eyes are focused on the windows displaying the storm clouds. You reach out and pull him towards you, into the small bed. The two of you get comfortable — Theo under you while your legs tangle together. Your face is in the crook of his neck and his arms are tightly wrapped around your body.

"Hermione came to visit just before dinner."

You turn your head upwards and raise your eyebrows.

"She was worried about you. And quite furious at Harry."

You say nothing, fiddling anxiously with the hospital covers. You don't know what to say, or how to feel. Only a heavy feeling fills your chest at the thought of Harry. You've never felt it before and it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Theodore studies you, how you cautiously look around, like you're in search of something. Something that will hurt you.

He sigh, pulling you closer to him — if that even was possible. He rests his head on top of yours, saying nothing but his message isn't lost. He tells you you're safe with him, and you know it. You feel it. And it relaxes you. Slightly.

Just as the two of you lull into sleep, the door of the infirmary gets blasted open. Theodore is immediately out of bed, his wand pointed towards the intruder.

Nothing would have prepared you for the utter shock of seeing Bellatrix Lestrange, Fenrir Grayback and a bunch of other Death Eaters standing in between the splinters of the blown-apart door.

"Hello, daughter." 

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[roosterforme]

Old Habits Die Hard Part 16 | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: After you visit Chicago, you understand just how hectic your life is about to become. And Bradley finally gets a very important piece of mail. There are things you want to say to him, but you don't know how. 

Warnings: Angst, swears, smut and fluff

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (fuckboy college student Bradley)

Check out my masterlist

Bradley helped you pack your bag and sat with you while you waited for your ride.

"I wish I could come with you. But I guess I'll have to wait to see Chicago when I visit you in the fall," he whispered, kissing your neck and holding you.

You were going to check out your new school for a long weekend since you'd be moving to Illinois next month. You were kind of terrified to go alone, but you needed to meet your advisor and look at your course of study. If you had the money, you'd take Bradley with you, but it really wasn't an option. 

"I'll scope out the city and see what looks fun," you told him, running your fingers through his soft hair. 

"Don't do the fun stuff without me though," he murmured. "Promise me, Sugar. Promise me you won't visit that big, silver bean. It looks dumb as hell, but I really want to see it."

You laughed against him and nodded your head in the crook of his neck. "I promise."

"And no deep dish pizza either."

You gasped and pulled away from him. "Now that's where I draw the line, Beer Boy."

Bradley laughed and pushed your hair away from your face. "I'll miss you." His face was so earnest, you had no doubt that he would. 

"I'll call you as soon as I land. Behave without me this weekend."

"I will," he whispered against your lips. "I'll be thinking about you the whole time." You dipped your tongue into his mouth and eased yourself further onto his lap, and just when you started to get cozy, your phone alerted you that your ride had arrived.

He walked you down to the street and kissed you one last time before you got in the car to leave. The urge to make some big proclamation about your feelings was filling you up inside, but you had to tamp it back down. Your feelings were honestly scaring you a bit since Tyson's birthday party. Nothing was making much sense to you now, and you needed to keep in mind that you wouldn't be seeing Bradley on a daily basis starting next month. The idea of it felt like too much weight to carry around with you as he stroked your neck with his fingers and told you he'd miss you so much.

You watched the Virginia countryside in the morning light, and when you landed in Chicago, the juxtaposition of continuous urban sprawl was alarming. You figured you would get used to it in time, but the sheer volume of traffic and city noise started to give you a headache almost immediately. 

You managed to get a taxi to your hotel, and you quickly changed to meet with your advisor. Sometimes you wished you had a closer relationship with your parents so you had someone to rely on. It made you want to put all of your trust in Bradley, and you wanted to be the person he could trust with anything. But you'd only known each other for a few months. 

But you texted him anyway. You snapped a picture as you rode past 'the bean' and promised him you weren't going without him. You texted him photos of the school campus as you walked along, searching for your advisor's office. 

When you found her spacious workspace, she jumped up and introduced herself to you. "I can't tell you how happy we are to have you joining us for the fall semester. Have a seat. And please call me Carmen."

"Thanks, Carmen. I just got lost walking through the campus, but it looks amazing here."

She just smiled at you and promised to take you on a tour tomorrow morning. "Now, I want to give you a brief overview of what will be expected, and then we can select your first semester classes later this weekend. However, I must say, I am so impressed with your undergraduate studies. I've spoken extensively about you with your advisor from UVA, and he assures me that we couldn't have picked a finer PhD candidate to add to our program. So welcome, once again."

You weren't used to hearing such high praise about yourself, and you felt a little uncomfortable in the leather seat. What if they had all actually made a huge mistake? What if you couldn't hack it? You'd be sleeping in the park under the bean, calling Bradley to come out to Chicago and rescue you. 

"Wow," you managed to say with a soft laugh. "I guess the pressure is on then."

When Carmen nodded with a very serious look on her face, all pretense of teasing on your part vanished. 

"It's going to be intense if you want to graduate in four years. And that's one of the things that will be required for you to keep your scholarship. You'll need to maintain a high GPA as well, so you'll be spending a lot of time in the labs and working closely with me."

You pressed your lips together. "It doesn't sound like I'll have much time for a personal life."

Carmen laughed and shrugged. "That's probably true. But when you finish your schooling in just an additional four years, you'll have your pick of careers. You told me in an email that you wanted to be a college professor someday? Well, after we're done with you, I can almost guarantee you'll be able to work anywhere you want to."

You let that sink in for a few minutes while Carmen told you more about the graduate dorms and your monetary compensation.

------------------------------

Bradley spent all day Friday in the study room, bored out of his mind and missing your body perched on his lap. He read his final novel for his English class, and he would have no problem finishing his final paper this weekend. His economics class was so easy, it was boring, and he'd already finished reading his political science textbook.

He'd started counting down the days until graduation. He was ready to move on, simply dying to hear back about flight training. Then he would be able to make some decisions, because at the moment, he was feeling so lost. He was happy for you though. You knew exactly what you wanted, and you were going to get it. He just hoped he would be that lucky this time. 

When his phone went off with texts from you, he scrolled through the photos you sent him, stopping on a selfie of you smiling in front of a fountain. He set it as his background. Then he texted you back.

Dev was sorting the mail when Bradley got back to the Beta house, and the rest of the guys were getting ready for the weekend parties. "Here," Dev told him, tossing a thick envelope to Bradley when he walked past.

"Thanks, man," Bradley replied, expecting it to be the annual information on his mom's life insurance policy. But when he turned it over in his hands and saw the US Navy emblem on the front, he nearly tripped on the stairs. He took the remaining steps two at a time and locked himself in his room. 

With shaky hands, Bradley tore into the envelope and sat down hard at his desk.

"Welcome to officer training and the Naval Aviation Academy," he read out loud to himself, and Bradley could see the tears clouding his vision before he could feel them. 

He set the letter down on his desk and cradled his face in his hands and just cried. This was the thing he had wanted for so long, and this time he wasn't going to let anyone take it away from him. 

Bradley wiped away his tears and let himself smile. His grades had improved so much, especially since he had a 4.0 so far for his senior year. In some sick, twisted way, he thought he had Chase to thank for this, because Bradley wasn't sure he would have been able to find the motivation to drink less and study more on his own. 

He wanted to text you right away. He also wanted to tell Hannah. But he would wait until you came back on Sunday night before he said anything. 

So he read through every bit of information twice and sent an email to the officer listed as his contact person for housing inquiries. As soon as he gave up his room here, he'd have absolutely nowhere to go otherwise. He also asked about guest accommodations, so he would have a good idea about what he should tell you for when you came to visit him.

His schedule looked absolutely wild. In his first year, he'd be in Rhode Island, Florida, Texas, and then California. And now he was hoping he'd have time to see you in Chicago.

So Bradley partied a bit all weekend, silently celebrating his acceptance letter. He avoided the hard liquor and the mob of girls asking him what happened to his girlfriend. You'd be back soon enough, and he couldn't wait to show you his letter.

---------------------------

Your campus tour and lunch with the head of the math department went smoothly. Then you picked out which dorm you'd be moving into, with the option of coming early in May to get a jumpstart on your classes. Then you sat down with Carmen again to select your schedule for the fall semester and see which textbooks you would need to acquire. 

You'd be learning about things you never even dreamed of at UVA. And you'd be working with some of the most intelligent and well studied people in the field. It was a lot for you to absorb.

When you flew back to Virginia on Sunday, you were so antsy, you couldn't sit still. When you landed you texted Bradley and told him you were going to get a ride directly to the Beta house, he said he'd be waiting for you.

And he was. You saw him sitting on the porch when your ride dropped you off, and he walked down to get your bag and pull you into a tight hug. 

"I missed you, Sugar." He scooped you into a hug as the car pulled away, and you let him hold you until you were sliding out of his arms. "How much did you love Chicago?"

You kissed him softly and then nodded. "It was kind of a shock to the system, but...yeah, I think it will be good."

You just inhaled his scent for a few moments while he rubbed your back and asked you for some details. Then it struck you; if you missed each other this much after just a few days apart, how were you going to date each other in two different time zones? You held onto him tighter and kissed the scars on his neck.

"Can I show you something? Up in my room?" he asked softly.

You huffed out a laugh. "I would certainly hope you'd wait until we got to your room for that, Beer Boy."

He rolled his eyes and picked up your bag. "That's not what I was talking about, and you know it. But...yeah, I can show you that, too."

You laughed as Bradley chased you up the stairs, and you opened his door, running your fingers along your phone number as you went inside.

"What do you want to show me?" you asked between kisses. Because now that you had him alone, you needed to touch all of him. His fingers dug into your hair, a little rough along your scalp as he pulled your body against his. 

"I want you to read something," he told you, guiding you backwards until you were sitting at his desk. He pointed to an envelope that looked like it had been opened very hastily, and he kissed your neck as you reached for it.

"Bradley," you gasped when you saw the return address. 

You spun around to face him, but he just nodded and said, "Go on, read it."

As quickly as you could manage, you pulled everything out of the envelope and started to read. You made it through two lines before you were out of your seat and climbing Bradley like he was a tree.

"Oh my god, Bradley! You did it!" You were kissing him all over his face while he held onto you. At first you thought he was crying, but then you realized your lips were met with your own salty tears. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Sugar," he whispered against your lips. "I got the letter on Friday, and I've been dying to tell you in person. And now you're the first one I told."

"You could have told me during one of our dozen phone calls, Bradley!"

He just shook his head and climbed on top of you on his bed. "It's not the same."

"What are we going to do when phone calls are all we have?" you asked him softly. But Bradley just shook his head.

---------------------------

He didn't want to think about that yet. He didn't want to think about any of it at all. 

"We'll figure it out," he promised. Your hair was spread out across his pillow, and you were looking up at him like you trusted him with everything. Graduation was so close now, and both of you knew where you were headed next. But none of that mattered, because you'd still have each other.

"I trust you, too, Sugar," he told you, even though you hadn't said anything. "You're so smart. You always know what to do. I trust you."

Your hands were in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer to you. "I knew you'd get in," you told him. "I never doubted you for a moment."

Bradley smiled as you kissed him. "You're the only one who feels that way about me."

"Lucky me," you whispered, wiping a stray tear from your cheek before you started to pull his shirt off. Nothing you did felt rushed, and even though you were pinned underneath him, Bradley knew you were the one in control.

He basked in the feel of your hands on his bare skin and your soft body beneath him. You had changed him so much; or rather, he had changed because of you. He had known he wanted to be better, but he really did it for you as much as himself. 

"Sugar." Your lips were on his shoulder, gliding across his skin, leaving a trail of not quite kisses as you reached for the front of his jeans.

He wished he could make you cum a million times tonight. He wanted to watch every inch of you as you got off on him, because soon he would have to go long stretches without you.

He stripped your clothing off as well, and you were already wet and moaning when he dipped his fingers down along your pussy. 

"Beer Boy!" you whined. "I need you."

He needed you more. Once he had rolled a condom into place, he rolled onto his back and guided you on top of him. He was hard and ready for you, but he watched the look on your face as you straddled his abs and let your forehead rest against his. 

"I need you." You whispered it this time as his fingers gently memorized the curve of your hips. Then you eased yourself down his body and guided him inside you with a soft hiss.

Eyes slightly out of focus, you moved above him, the bump of your thighs against his body just perfect. Bradley was mesmerized, just like he always was when he was with you like this. He let his fingertips trail up along your ribs and across your tattoo and you gasped for him.

"So perfect," he said, and you kissed him hard while you rode him. You tasted his lips and his teeth and moved with a rhythm that had him close to the edge.

He guided his fingers to the space between his body and yours where you could rub yourself against him. And then you were crying out into his mouth as your pussy squeezed his cock, and he came too. 

"So perfect," he repeated into your hair as you buried your face against his neck.

---------------------------

You changed into Bradley's tie dye shirt and sat on his floor sharing a pizza with him. 

"What's your dormitory going to be like?" he asked, folding a slice in half and taking a huge bite. 

"It's in this ancient building with insanely intricate architecture. I picked it because it looked fun, which I'm sure wasn't the best decision," you said with a laugh as he finished the piece of pizza. "But the best part? It's all mine. No roommate!"

Bradley grinned. "That'll be nice for when I come to visit."

You smiled. "It's a long walk to the bean, but if the weather's good, it's doable. And there's literally deep dish pizza on every street. Jealous yet? Are you still sure you want to go to Rhode Island?"

Bradley leaned across the pizza box and placed the softest, sweetest kiss on your cheek. Your eyes fluttered closed and you smiled. "If there was any option for me to be closer to Chicago, I would have taken it, Sugar. Promise."

You just looked at him, longing for him to understand how you felt inside, but you were way too afraid to say anything to him. You were in love with him, and it was eating away at you. There was no way you could tell him. Not when you were graduating and leaving so soon. It would have to wait. Maybe there would be a better time later. But not now.

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One. More. Chapter. Left. A million thanks to @mak-32 for helping me the whole time with this fic. This one is for you!

PART 17 (the final chapter)

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