#& I finally stopped looking for permission to pursue what I want to

[littlebirdy0301]

ok so legitimately this video has brought me a lot of joy & genuine hope.

Because I looked at this silly video & saw this man in his late 30’s who has the heart of a goofy theatre kid. And instead of growing out of that, he turned it into something really beautiful. And all of the people I see on my screen that are a part of what he created- they’re also goofy nerds & theatre kids at heart. A bunch of people 10+ years older than me who never had to grow out of it because they got to grow into it instead.

I’ve been told so many times to grow out of it that I’ve been convincing myself that it’s what I have to do. But I think that’s a Sad Bad Take so I’m gonna ignore it from now on

know your worth! 🙏

[thehandsresisthim]

“venus im pelz (venus in furs)”

contains: sub!könig/dom!fem!reader, master/servant (altho it’s all pretend), wayyy too many references to venus in furs, könig fucks a pillow lol, dry humping, kinda pet-play-ish(?)

word count: ~1.400

You yawn and place your left hand back on your thigh. Your legs are currently draped over the armrest of the big chair you’re sitting on as you look down on the monarch sitting in front of you.

“So? How do you like it?” you ask him in a straightforward tone as you move your other hand to the fur of the coat he gifted you.

His eyes are immediately trained on your hand - watching your ringed (courtesy of his gifts) fingers as if he was a moth circling a flame. You pet the elegant fur over and over again, occasionally digging your fingers in.

You wouldn’t have been surprised if he started drooling. Sadly, neither saliva nor speech leaves his mouth.

“Answer me, Sir.” you demand now, your face turning to marble.

“I… I like it.”

His lips part and he looks pained. His light blue eyes glance up at you, and then down again.

“I see. So I fulfil your vision of a domineering Venus?” you speak and he feels like you’re pulling out a rug beneath him.

“I-“ he begins and feels like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You look down at him, your gaze turning to stone. Luckily for him, before you can mock him any further, a loud noise originating from the fireplace interrupts you.

The wood - which he so neatly arranged in the fireplace just two hours ago - has crumbled. Slowly, the flames stop licking the last bits of wood away, and it dies.

You both watch.

“Your Majesty. Fix this. I am already cold.” you say, as if you were commanding a bothersome dog.

He almost falls over, scrambling to roughly grab multiple planks of wood at the same time.

Under your cold eyes, he shrinks as he places the new firewood. Although the less coherent stability of the arrangement doesn’t escape your mind, you let it slide.

His trembling hands grab the box of matches and he attempts to light one.

He fails. Miserably.

Under your cold eyes, he withers further. “S-sorry…”

You sigh. “Are you quite sure that you will let your Goddess degrade herself by pursuing such a bothersome task?”

König looks as if he wants to cry. “No! No, never!”

He bites his lip and tries again. He lets out a cry of relief as it finally works. With a shivering hand, he lights the wood on fire.

His eyes flicker between the flames licking the wood and you, the need for approval visible on his face.

You indulge him again. “You did a good job, my servant. You may sit before me and touch the fur on my coat.”

He doesn’t even bother to get up properly and just crawls towards you on all fours. You laugh.

“You are quite an amusing pet.” you say, and he wonders what might be colder - the look in your eyes, or your tone? He shivers and ends up kneeling right before you.

His hands tremble as he hesitates to touch your luxurious fur coat. You giggle as his big hands stay just a few centimetres away from the soft fur of the clothing.

“I already gave you permission. Go on, you may touch my coat.”

He awkwardly pets the fur for just a moment, then digs his fingers in. Amidst him closing his eyes as he rakes his fingers through the fur, he makes a fatal mistake.

His right thumb, accidentally, brushes against the skin of your décolleté.

Immediately, you shove him away - his eyes open wide in shock as he falls back, catching himself on his hands.

“H-hey-“ he starts to protest, but one look from you is enough to put him back in line.

“Sorry, Goddess.” he mumbles and looks at your feet.

You just stay quiet, as you know exactly what he should be saying to you next.

“How… how can I make up for my mistake, Herrin?” he asks.

At his use of the German term for ‘mistress’, you smirk. Whenever he starts using some words in his native language, you know that he has been pushed further into subspace. It’s a sign that he’s letting go, that he trusts you.

Although it’s not exactly in character for “Venus in Furs”, you lean forward and affectionately run your fingers through his hair. He looks up at you and smiles.

As he glances at your eyes, he understands what you’re doing - silently checking in if he’s still up for the play.

“I’m good,” he says quietly, “I’ll tell you if anything gets uncomfortable, I promise.”

Your affectionate smile turns cold again as you resume your “role” as Venus. You harshly tug on his hair, reminding him of what he should be saying now.

“I’ll do anything to make up for my mistake…” he blushes as he speaks.

“Remove your clothes.” you instruct.

He nods and starts tugging on his pants.

***

“H…herrin…” he begins, as he humps against the pillows. “Touch… me… bitte…”

“The answer is still ‘no’, König, no matter how you plead. Your leaky cock would just dirty the pristine furs that I wear.”

He whimpers and bites his lip. “O…okay….”

You sigh in mock indignation. “If only you could control that thing. Look, it’s leaking like a faucet. You know, like this, it’s almost cute.”

König groans when you call his dick “cute” of all things. He wants to protest, but decides against it. Pissing you off by being bratty right now is a really bad idea.

“You agree that it’s cute, right? Adorable, even?” you taunt, lips curling into a smile. “Tell me, Your Majesty. Tell me how cute your dick is.”

“Ich… Ich… Herrin…” he stutters, now seemingly having lost all English speaking capabilities.

“Your Majesty?”

“My… c-cock is…” he says quickly, trying to get it over with, “süß…”

You just stare at him with cold eyes.

“Sor-”, he interrupts himself with a moan as his swollen cock accidentally brushes against the zipper on the pillow, “sorry…”

“My cock is… cute.” he says the word like it causes him pain.

“That’s right!” you say enthusiastically. “It’s adorable!”

He winces, but nods awkwardly, pretending to agree. It’s so pathetic and sweet that you decide not to chastise him again.

“It’s so adorable that I want to see it cum.”

König sighs with relief, his eyes focusing on you. He looks like a devout worshipper - well, except for the nudity. And the way he’s humping the pillow.

“Hold still for a minute.” you instruct, and watch as his hips stutter and then stop. He whimpers.

You slowly get up and grab another pillow, then place it on top of the one that he’s already humping.

He shivers as the colder fabric touches his sensitive cock. It’s not yet soiled by his warm, sticky cum, and feels awkward.

You place one of your hands on the pillow. “This should be better. Fuck the pillows. It’s all your leaky dick deserves. You are allowed to cum.”

König nods, hums, and starts… fucking the pillows. It feels very weird. Sure, the fabric is nice, and the friction helps get him near the edge, but… it doesn’t compare to your cunt.

Still, after just a few seconds, he starts moaning and saying your title. It’s quiet at first, and then picks up traction.

“Ahh- Mistress, Herrin… Bitte…”

However, the pillows are nowhere as tight, as warm, and most importantly - it’s not you. You’re not touching him, just holding the pillows down so that he doesn’t knock them over by his rapid humping.

He can barely catch a whiff of your scent, and it’s hell.

“Herrin, bitte… lass mich nicht… alleine…” he rambles. The plea for you to not leave him alone sounds pathetic, so unlike the strong soldier that he is, too.

“F-fass mich an, berühre mich, Herrin, bitte, bitte!” König continues, frantically humping the pillow sandwich, constantly looking into your eyes.

The begging for you to at least touch him is so adorable that you fold and gently place your hand on his neck. Your other hand still holds the pillow in place.

“Thank you, Herrin, oh, Herrin, thank you! Danke!”

That does him in, and unceremoniously, he cums onto the pillows.

You chuckle at the way his body trembles. “I hope you’re prepared to continue, König.”

Thank you for reading ❤️

For more fics, check out my masterlist :)

[sissylittlefeather]

Puppet on a String: A Rusty Wells Story

A/N: Girl Happy is one of my favorite Elvis movies and Rusty is one of my favorite characters. I had to write him a fic! I've been kicking around this idea for a long time. Hopefully you all like it!

Special shout outs to @ccab and @atleastpleasetelephone for listening to me bitch and moan and helping me when I got stuck over and over and over again with this one!

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, cussing, kissing, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, also teasing, light edging, and a fistfight, so mentions of a bloody nose

Word count: ~5.5k

Here's some Rusty to get you in the mood:

When Rusty promised your father to go to Fort Lauderdale to supervise you, he had no idea what he was in for. He'd seen a picture of you and you looked rather nerdy, so he wasn't worried about it taking up too much of his time. Then, when he saw you in Florida, looking just as dorky as your photograph, he breathed a sigh of relief and gave himself permission to play shows, pursue other girls, and leave you to your books. 

The girls had brought you along not as a friend, but as their tutor for the week since exams were not long after the Easter holiday. You were excited for the opportunity to go to the beach and didn't realize what it would mean to be there with them. They were perfectly content to leave you alone in the room every night as they went out and had fun with all the boys that chased them around during the day while you went unnoticed. 

On the third night of the 10-day holiday, Rusty gets an angry call from your father. 

"She said she hasn't had any fun at all! That she just sits in her room all the time!"

"Sir, I-I thought you wanted her to be safe?" Rusty answers nervously. 

"I do! But I also want her happy! She was in tears! When I call her tomorrow, she better be in a much better mood or I guarantee you won't be." 

"Y-yes sir. She will be." 

******

The next day, Rusty sets out to find you and try to make sure you have at least a little fun. This is too important to trust one of his friends to get it done. However, he can't remember which room you're staying in. Eventually, he asks one of the girls he knows you came with and she looks at him like he's grown horns. 

"You want y/n? You?!"

"Yeah... I just... what room is she in?" 

"She's in room 220. Either reading or crying. That's all she ever does." The girls look at each other and snicker. Rusty takes note of how they talk about you. It seems a little rude, since you're there to help them. 

"Thanks." He walks away toward your room. Before he knocks on the door, he presses his ear to it and hears what sounds like sniffling. He peeks through the window and sees you sitting on one of the beds, tears running down your cheeks. Some part of him softens and he's overwhelmed with a need to hold you in his arms. He shakes his head and tries to focus on the task at hand, knocking softly on the door. It takes another few minutes and two more knocks from him for you to finally open the door. You've wiped your face, but he can still tell your nose is a little red. 

"Hi. I'm Rusty Wells. Me and my combo play down at the Sandbar Club every night. I wondered if you might like to come with me to the beach?" He says it quickly, smiling and trying to lay on the charm. 

"Me? Why? Are you making fun of me?" You look up at him curiously. "Did the girls put you up to this?"

"No! I-I just... come to the beach with me. Or we can go sailing? Or rent a motorcycle? Whatever you want, honey." 

"Why?" You narrow your eyes suspiciously. 

"Can't a guy ask a pretty girl to go to the beach without getting a million questions?" 

"Ha! A pretty girl? Now I know you're up to something. No thanks. I don't want to end up as the butt of anyone's jokes." You go to close the door and he stops it with his hand. 

"Look, listen. I need to take you out. So will ya just...? Okay?"

"You need to?"

"Yes. I'm here because I work for your dad and he sent me to make sure you're safe and happy-"

"My father did what!?"

"He just cares about you and wants you to have a good time, okay? I told him I'd make sure you do. So will ya please just come with me to the beach or somethin'?" You look him up and down skeptically. When you think about it, it's kind of sweet that your dad cares enough to make sure you're safe and happy. And this Rusty character doesn't seem too bad. He's really cute and a part of you wishes he actually just wanted to hang out with you. Maybe you can spend an afternoon with him and satisfy your dad. You can declare the trip a failure and go home tomorrow. Then at least Rusty can say he tried and not get in trouble with your father. 

"Okay, then. But not the beach. Let's go sailing. I've always wanted to go sailing." Rusty smiles, relieved that you finally agreed. 

"You got it, honey. Let's go." You go back into your room, smooth your hair, and put some fresh powder on your nose. Then, you grab your purse and head out the door to go sailing with Rusty. 

******

Much to his surprise, Rusty genuinely enjoys your company. You're funny in a way he's never experienced with a girl and he finds himself laughing more often than he expected. He's also surprised by how attractive you are with your little glasses and clothes that look like they could've belonged to your mother. Your smile is sweet and your eyes sparkle when you get excited. It's unexpected, but he actually really likes you. He only intended to spend a few hours with you, but before he knows it the sun is setting and it's time for him to get ready for that night's show. Then he says something that shocks even him. 

"Come to our show tonight."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly. I'm sure you want to take a real date." He realizes that you don't think of yourself as a real date and he kicks himself for telling you about working for your father. 

"No, really. I do this song called 'Wolf Call', I'll come get you out of the crowd-"

"Rusty, it's okay. You don't have to do that. I had a great day with you. I promise I'll tell my dad I had fun. You're off the hook for today." His smile falls a little and he nods. You'll never take him seriously now. 

"Well, alright then. What will you do tonight?" 

"Oh, probably just read. It's fine. Thank you for a wonderful day."

"Yeah, you're welcome." You take your purse from him and go into your room, shutting the door before he can say anything else. He stands outside your room and is startled when he realizes he's wishing he could've kissed you goodnight. 

******

The next day, he knocks on your door and offers to take you out like he did yesterday. You know he's going to have to report back to your father, so you agree to go with him once more. He tells himself he's only doing it as part of his job, but in reality he just wanted to see you. At the end of it, he tries again to get you to come to his show, but you decline and settle in to read for the night. 

This pattern continues for the next few days. Rusty knocks on your door in the morning and you spend the day together. In the evening, he tries to convince you to come to the show and you decline. 

It's not that you don't want a date for the evening. You'd love to go out with a boy who is actually interested in you, but you never get attention from anyone other than Rusty and you know that's just because he doesn't want to upset your father. Maybe he can be helpful, though. He is a guy, so he should know what you need to do to be noticed. You start to work up the courage to ask for his help. 

By Thursday, Rusty decides he's going to insist on you joining him for the evening. He enjoys your company so much during the day that he actually finds himself missing you at night. He knocks on your door determined to get you to believe that he really likes you. 

"Hey, honey, I need to talk to you."

"Good. I need to talk to you too." His heart skips at the possibility that you might want more from him. You grab his hand and pull him into your room and he can hardly breathe. 

"I need-"

"Please come-"

You start talking at the same time and both stop. He gestures for you to keep going, so you do. 

"I need you to help me. I want a date tonight, but there's no way I'll get one looking like this."

"Oh... I-I think you look just fine... in fact-"

"No, Rusty, you don't have to be nice. It's okay. I know you don't want to actually go out with me." His heart sinks. 

"But, I-"

"Please help me. Help me know what guys like so I can find a date." He swallows his disappointment and nods. 

"Alright, then. What are you thinkin'?" You take your glasses off and toss them on the desk and he sighs. He thinks they're cute. 

"There. Now what?" He swallows the desire to say that nothing about you needs to change. 

"You need clothes that'll show off your figure. Something tight or short or both." You go to your roommate's suitcase and throw it open. 

"She said I could borrow anything. What do we like?" He reluctantly walks to the suitcase and pulls out some garments. 

"Try this." He hands you some short shorts and a cropped tank top and swallows deeply, trying to imagine what you might look like. He's never seen you in anything that shows your body, even on the beach you wear an oversized coverup, so he's not even sure what to expect. You smile and head into the bathroom with the clothes. He sits on the side of the bed and fidgets with his fingers in anticipation. When you finally open the bathroom door and step out, he has to actively remind himself to close his mouth. 

"Well? What do you think?" You spin in a slow circle and his heart skips. You have a beautiful body and all of a sudden he can't stop imagining you with no clothes at all, pressed against him and whimpering. He clears his throat and adjusts himself quickly while you're facing away. "That bad, huh?" 

You turn back to face him and assume it must be terrible since he hasn't said anything. Your eyebrows are raised and a lump begins to form in your throat. You're not sure why you want him to like the way you look so badly. Spending so much time with him has you confused and wishing it wasn't all because of your father. 

"You look..." He can't even finish the sentence. Instead, he wants to just wrap you in his arms and show you what he thinks, but that's not what you want. 

"Ridiculous, huh?"

"No! Not ridiculous at all. I-"

"If you didn't know me, would you think I looked good?"

"Yeah. I think you look amazing. That's... wow..." You roll your eyes. He really is so very sweet. 

"You don't have to lay it on that thick. It's okay." 

"No, I'm serious." He stands up and walks over to you, looking down at you. All of a sudden there's an energy in the air and it feels like he might kiss you. Just as you close your eyes to let him, the door of your room swings open. 

"Oh, wow! Y/n, you look incredible!" Rusty jumps back and your roommate walks to you. She's tired of the way the other girls have treated you this whole time. After sharing a room with you she's realized you're more than the bookish nerd everyone sees when they look at you. "I'm going to do your hair and makeup. Then you're coming out to the beach with us today. It's time you had a little fun too." 

You look over at Rusty, who is trying desperately to hide his disappointment that you won't be spending the day with him. 

"Rusty? Do you mind if I go with the girls and try to pick up a real date?" That hits him like a slap in the face and he shakes his head silently. 

"No, that's fine, go with the girls. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Maybe! If I find a date then you don't have to worry about me anymore." His heart sinks even further. Then you run to him and kiss his cheek and he feels like he can't breathe. "Thank you, Rusty. You're really very sweet." 

He nods and then turns and walks from the room. Rather than heading to the beach, he lays on his bed looking at the ceiling and wishing he hadn't told you about your father. 

******

He doesn't see you all day and there's a growing feeling of emptiness in the pit of his stomach that he can't explain. Even flirting with the other pretty girls feels flat. At the show, he tries to play enthusiastically, but he just wants you to be there. 

You eventually do appear and his eyes light up. But his hopes are quickly dashed by the group of boys that surrounds you, all fighting for your attention. With your hair and makeup done and a cute little dress on for the evening, you're positively stunning and the guys are excited that there's a new girl to pursue. They fall all over themselves trying to impress you. At first, you weren't sure what to do, but you've adjusted to the attention pretty well by the time you make it to the show. You look around demurely at each guy and respond flirtatiously, giggling and sipping your drink. 

Rusty watches this scene and a burning feeling of envy rises inside him. He noticed you first. And all these other guys just want you because of the way you look now. There's more to you than that and he seems to be the only one that cares. He swallows the lump in his throat and tries to keep singing, but the bubble of rage inside him just keeps growing. 

You sit at the table with the guys surrounding you, desperately trying to figure out which one you like best. None of them really stand out, though. In fact, the only one you really want to talk to is Rusty. You look up at him on stage and he looks so good in his red shirt and black pants. If only he would actually like you. There was that moment in your room where you thought he might kiss you. Still, he probably was just caught off guard by the way you look in these clothes. For some reason you want him to like you for who you really are and not just how you look. You're brought back to reality by one of the guys putting his hand on your knee. 

"Didja hear what I said, baby? My father owns a company in Detroit." 

"Mmm." You nod genially and try to refocus on the men that are all trying to talk to you at once. It makes you uncomfortable that this one in particular is touching you, but you figure that's just part of the game. You turn to another guy and smile, trying to listen to whatever he's saying. But when you do, the one slides his hand further up your thigh and squeezes gently. You jump a little and turn back to him with your eyes wide. 

Your discomfort does not go unnoticed. Rusty is keenly aware of the way this guy is touching you. He watches you closely to gauge your reaction. If it seems like you like it, he'll have to find a way to let it go, but if you don't...

"Please move your hand." Your voice shakes as you say it, but you try to be firm. 

"Aww, baby, come on. You mean like this?" He slides his hand even further up your thigh, so that his fingertips are under the hem of your skirt. You gasp and try to wiggle away, but he presses his hand up even further. 

Before you can say anything else though, Rusty is there. He drags the handsy guy up by his collar and punches him hard in the face. 

"Rusty!!" The other guys jump into the fight and in a flash it's four against one as Rusty tries to fight them all. He holds his own fairly well, but after a few seconds, he's overpowered and knocked to the ground with a bloody nose. You rush to his side and the other guys all exclaim and try to get your attention. Ignoring them all, you pull Rusty up off the ground and manage to get him to his feet. 

"I'm sorry, honey, I didn't mean to ruin your date.” He pauses and looks around. “Dates?"

"Nonsense. Let's just get you cleaned up." He smiles down at you gently as he leans on you. He can walk just fine, but he's taking advantage of the opportunity to have his arm around you. Something about it just feels right. 

When the two of you get back to your room, you open the door and get him inside to sit on the couch. His knuckles are banged up and his nose is bleeding pretty good all over the front of his shirt. You quickly grab a towel and stuff it under his nose and then find a first aid kit to clean out the cuts on his hand. It takes a minute, but you eventually get him squared away and then collapse onto the couch next to him. He pulls the towel away from his nose and looks over at you. 

"I think the bleeding has stopped."

"Good! What on earth were you thinking?!" He looks at you sheepishly. 

"I was thinking you didn't like being touched like that and I wasn't going to just stand there and let it happen." You melt and look up at him. 

"Thank you." He smiles softly and then looks down at his hands in his lap. 

"I'm sorry I messed up your night, though. I know you were trying to-"

"It's okay, Rusty. I'd rather be here with you anyway." He looks up at you quickly. 

"Y-you would?"

"Yeah. Because I can do this." You walk over to the desk and grab your glasses, putting them on your face. "That's so much better. I can see. I couldn't even tell if those guys were cute!" 

He chuckles as you sit back down on the couch next to him. You sigh and look down at the floor. 

"Sorry; I know that kind of ruins the illusion." He tries to catch your eye and eventually does. 

"No. Don't apologize. I like you better like this."

"Wait, really?" There's a moment of silence as his eyes flick between yours. Then, he whispers. 

"This is how you looked when I fell for you." He looks up at you through his eyelashes and your heart flutters. 

"Oh, Rusty." His eyes drop down as he prepares for the disappointment. You put a finger under his chin and make him look up at you again. "I'm falling for you too." 

He blinks as his heart pounds and he tries to process what he's just heard. 

"You're-?" But you interrupt his sentence by leaning in and pressing your lips to his. He winces a little with the pressure against his tender nose and you pull back abruptly. 

"Oh! I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking..." He shakes his head quickly. 

"No, it's okay. Do it again. Please." You smile and lean in again, kissing him as softly as you can. You hover above his lips and whisper. 

"We should get you out of that bloody shirt." He nods and lets you unbutton it and push it off of his shoulders, dropping it on the floor next to the couch. Your fingers go directly to the patch of hair on his chest and he shivers a little. He covers your hand with his and then pulls your fingers to his lips and kisses them gently. Without another thought, you crawl into his lap to straddle his hips, your skirt riding up so that you can press yourself against him. When you feel how hard he is, a soft moan escapes your lips. 

"Is this just because of the way I look now?" He puts his hand on the side of your face and looks into your eyes sincerely. 

"Honey, I've wanted you for days. You're just so stubborn; I couldn't get you to believe me that I meant it." You breathe out a laugh. 

"I am kind of a pain in the ass, aren't I?"

"The most beautiful pain in the ass I've ever seen." He runs his thumb over your cheek affectionately. 

"Rusty, I..." You roll your hips forward against him and whimper. "I want to do this... I do... I just don't know how..." 

"Is this your first time?" He raises his eyebrows. 

"No, not that. It's just never been very pleasant and... I want to enjoy it... with you..." He relaxes and softens. 

"Oh, honey. I promise I'll make it nice. If that's what you want." You nod almost frantically. 

"I do. Please." He smiles and kisses you gently. His hands run up under your skirt and he looks to you for permission to take your dress off. You nod and he slides it up and over your head. He goes back to kissing your chest, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your breasts as he removes your bra and lets that hit the floor too. You run your hands in the back of his hair and he moans quietly. After a few more seconds, he stands up from the couch, keeping you wrapped around him, kissing you over and over until he makes it to the bedroom. You whimper softly as he lays you on the bed, moving his lips down your neck to your collarbone. 

"Honey, I wanna taste you. Would you like that?" 

"I-I-I don't know. I think so?" A small feeling of fear rises in your chest as you grapple with not knowing what to expect. He picks up on your nervousness and gently moves your hair out of your face, stroking your cheek softly. 

"Okay, baby, you just relax, okay? I'm not gonna hurt ya." You nod, breathing deeply, and he continues kissing down your body, grazing his lips over your stomach to your thighs.  Your back arches involuntarily as you feel his lips on your legs and he pushes them apart to settle in between them. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby." 

"Yes, Rusty..." You whimper as he slides your panties down your legs. Some part of you feels like you should be embarrassed to be this exposed, but for the first time you aren't. Something about Rusty makes you feel at ease. 

"You're so pretty, honey. I'm gonna put my mouth on ya now. You just let me know if you want me to stop." 

With that, he presses his tongue to your center and you moan loudly. Nothing has ever felt this good before. He moves his tongue over and around your sensitive bud and electricity gathers in your hips. Another moan escapes you as he licks and sucks your clit feverishly. More electricity builds and he moves on you with more speed and intention. 

"Oh God... Rusty..." You're not sure what is about to happen, but it's like you're on the edge of something as he slides one of his long fingers up into you and tickles a specific place inside you. He feels your pussy tighten and moans softly. 

"Let go, baby... you're so close."

"Close to wh- OH!" You whine loudly as your orgasm crashes into you, washing over you in tantalizing waves of intense pleasure. He licks and finger-fucks you through it and you pulse and writhe and grab at the sheets. Finally, you start to come down and he backs off of you, lips glistening. 

"What was that!?" You ask enthusiastically. He smiles and chuckles a little. 

"Baby, I thought you said this wasn't your first time?" 

"Yeah, but that's never happened before. No one's ever... I mean... not with their mouth..." He kisses the inside of your thigh affectionately and then moves back up to lay next to you, rolling over and holding your face in his hand. 

"Honey, I don't know what kind of... boys... you've been with before, but a real man should always make you feel this good. I will always make sure you feel this good." 

You look up at him and resist the urge to blurt out that you love him. Instead, you pull him into a kiss and he moves his hand down to your hip, pressing his body against yours. He rolls his hips forward so that his erection grinds against your thigh and you gasp. 

"Rusty..."

"I'm sorry, honey. I-I-I-"

"It's okay. I wanna make you feel good too." You run your hand down his chest and stomach, following the trail of hair under the front of his pants and take his cock in your hand. The mild shock that he's not wearing underwear fades quickly when you notice that he whimpers and bites his bottom lip as you touch him. 

"You really don't hafta-"

"Shhh... let me take care of you." He whimpers again and his hips buck into your hand as you stroke him, moving his foreskin back and forth. "Take your pants off." 

He quickly and obediently removes his slacks, trembling slightly in anticipation. You press hot kisses to his chest, moving down his stomach to just below his bellybutton. He looks down at you, eyes dark with desire, and runs his hand in your hair as you take the base of his dick in your hand and lick directly across the head. 

"Oh, fuck, baby..." You smile at his reaction and then pull him fully into your mouth. This part you know how to do and you can't wait to see him come undone with your efforts. You lick up the bottom of his shaft and then open your throat and press your nose into the soft patch of hair around his cock. He holds a handful of your hair and does everything in his power not to thrust into your mouth as you bounce up and down on him. The skill with which you suck him off surprises and impresses him and he moans and grips the sheets with his other hand. You keep working him with your mouth, your hands on his hips to keep him still. 

"Oh, baby..." He shudders as you pull him deep in your throat again. "'M gonna cum soon." 

You back off of him and sit up, stroking him teasingly slowly with your hand. 

"Not until I say so, you're not." You smile down at him devilishly and he groans. 

"Oh, you little minx. You gonna get feisty on me?" You giggle and lick your lips sensually as you move your hand a little faster. 

"You want me to stop teasing you?" 

"No. Fuck no." His hips buck again as he begs for enough friction to reach the orgasm that is so close he can feel it in the base of his dick. 

"Okay, how about this then?" You move to straddle his hips and then rub the tip of his cock along your entrance, where it slides over your slit easily with the wetness gathered there. He whimpers and holds your hips with both hands. You sink on him just a bit, pushing the tip of him inside you. 

"Oh God, honey, please." The sight of him whimpering and begging turns you on so much more than you ever dreamed it would. You've never taken control like this before, and certainly haven't ever had the confidence to tease anyone, but Rusty is so sweet and giving that he brings out a side of you that you didn't even know is there. He also seems to be enjoying it just as much as you are. His cock is rock hard and he sweats and pants with his eyes rolled back and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He's beautiful like this, all flushed and needy. 

You slide more of him inside you and he gasps. Your pussy is deliciously tight around him, the little sounds that fall from your lips driving him even more crazy. He's overwhelmed with the thought that he'd like to feel you like this forever and a shiver runs through him as he bites his tongue to keep from whispering that he loves you. 

Finally, you push him into you fully and moan with the sensation of being filled so completely. His dick is perfect to hit all the right places inside you. Lifting your hips, you drop back down onto him and he groans loudly. 

"Baby, I'm so close."

"Mmm not yet. Can you make me cum again? Without your mouth?" You're not sure what's come over you, asking for it like this, but it's like the words are out of your control. Luckily, he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, it appears to be just the opposite. He smiles and licks his thumb, moving down to your center and rubbing circles on your clit. 

"Like this?" 

"Oh, God, yes..." You hiss as the feeling of his thumb on you combines with his cock pushed up inside you. "Fuck..."

He laughs a little at your cussing. He's drunk on you, drunk on your pussy, drunk on the way you make him feel, drunk on the need to be with you like this for the rest of his life. His orgasm is so close he feels like he might explode if he doesn't move soon. He pulls his hips back a little and thrusts up into you and you gasp. 

"Not until... I cum..." He whimpers and moves his thumb with more urgency. Your pussy tightens around his dick and he almost screams with the need to climax. 

"Y/n... please..."

"So... close..." He feels your walls begin to pulse around him and you throw your head back and cry out his name as the release finally washes over you, energy thrumming through your body from head to toe. "Now!" 

You don't have to tell him twice. He grabs your hips and lifts you just enough to pound you from underneath. His rhythm is erratic and frantic and it only takes a few seconds for him to slam into you one last time, cussing and moaning as his cock throbs inside you, shooting you full of his warmth. Eventually, his whole body relaxes and you collapse on his chest, both of you spent and breathing heavily. 

"Goddamn, baby."

"Yeah. Wow." He slides his softening dick out of you and settles you beside him with your head on his chest. "Rusty, that was..."

"More pleasant? I hope?"

"That was fucking incredible." 

"Two orgasms and you turn totally wild on me." 

"I'm sorry. It's true. I just never knew it could be like this." 

"Well, you're not wrong, honey. And I'm not complainin’. It was incredible for me too." You look up at him from his chest and he leans down and presses his lips against yours. After a few more minutes of laying there together, you go to get up and reach for the phone. He looks at you puzzled. 

"Baby, what're you doing?"

"Gotta tell my dad about this." He laughs and wrestles the phone out of your hands as you giggle and he puts it back where it belongs. 

"Although, I probably do need to talk to him." He says it quietly and you raise an eyebrow. 

"Why?"

"I need his permission."

"Rusty..." He looks at you for a second and decides he can't hold back any longer. 

"I love you, y/n. I'm in love with you. I think I finally found what I've been looking for on all these Easter vacations. I-I-I'd like to marry ya, if you'll have me?"

"Rusty, we just met." His face drops. 

"Is that a no?"

"No! It's a not yet." He looks away and nods. You grab his chin and make him look at you again. "But it's also an I love you too." 

"It is?"

"Of course it is." He smiles and pulls you into a deep kiss. When he backs away, he presses his forehead into yours. 

"Baby, I'm yours. You just let me know when you're ready. Until then, you can have me any way you want me." 

And that's exactly what you do.

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[the-storyteller78]

Ok, midterms are officially done and I’m finally getting my Vengeance Saga thoughts together. HERE WE GO.

I will be very frank. This was not my favorite saga. I did really like portions of it, and I was still left gobsmacked and mouth agape by the end of it, but overall, it was not one of the stronger sagas. Of course, I have nothing but respect for Jorge and all the amazing voices who contributed to this musical. Epic is still very dear to me, whatever qualms I may have. And I have the privilege of yapping on Tumblr without having done any of the work in figuring out all the logistics of creating a musical, so just remember: These are my opinions. Just me blabbering cus I like talking about Epic.

(And I know this would be very unconventional, but when the stage production of Epic comes out, I almost want there to be an intermission sort of thing after the Wisdom Saga or something. I don’t know how that would work out, but I feel like it would provide an indication of how much time has passed for Odysseus on the island.)

“Not Sorry For Loving You.” I felt nothing. I understand that Calypso has suffered because of her punishment of isolation, and I sympathize with what she had to go through. But I do not like her at all. I loathe her. Her tragic backstory does not give her permission to keep a man prisoner for seven years and ignore his desperate pleas to be allowed to leave. It does not give her leave to constantly pursue him when he has unequivocally told her that he is married and very much NOT. INTERESTED. And that’s barely even touching on the implications of sexual harassment. I was not happy with the choice to make Odysseus say that he loves her at all, even if it’s not romantic, but I was honestly very satisfied by the absolute stone-cold expression he had in Gigi’s animatic. That is not the face of a man who cares one bit about someone who kept him captive.

Anyhow. Moving on (because I’ll never stop talking about it if I don’t).

I really feel that “Dangerous” and “Charybdis” could’ve been combined in some way. Look, I love Troy Doherty’s voice. Every verse he sings in Epic is such a jam. But I have to say that “Dangerous” is probably one of the less narratively important songs in the entire musical. We know the journey is dangerous; it’s BEEN dangerous the whole time. No reason that would change now, especially with Poseidon still after him. And I know some people think “Charybdis” could be taken out, but I kind of like that the idea of him being dropped into this super scary situation right after leaving Ogygia but rallying himself and declaring that he’s still fighting. He’s not giving up. The way I see it, Odysseus’ lyrics in “Charybdis” are a meaningful specifically because he is returning to himself, he’s not willing to just die anymore like he was seriously considering on Ogygia. He has hope. I think it would be interesting to have “Charybdis” come right after “Not Sorry For Loving You,” have Hermes appear towards the end of the song, then have Odysseus sing his adorable little Penelope I’m coming home my love don’t worry moment. I don’t know how that would work out musically, but I’m sure someone could figure it out.

AND THEN POSEIDON POPS OUT OF THE OCEAN. “Get in the Water” was pretty intense; I don’t really have much to say about it. The voices of his mom, Eurylochus, and Polites echoing around him as he teeters on the brink of death had me teary-eyed. I’ll be real though, I’m not sure why the wind bag was relevant. It was such a lose-lose situation. If he doesn’t open the bag, he gets drowned by Poseidon. If he does open the bag to survive and fight Poseidon, he can’t go home. Either way, he loses. Was it like that on purpose because Zeus was trying to be a jerk even after flash-frying his daughter??

(Also, I don’t know what the physics or whatever of a super powerful storm bag jet pack is, but I somehow doubt it would be a viable option)

“600 Strike.” I wanted to like this song. And I will freely admit, the ending had me breathless and absolutely on the edge of my seat. However, I was definitely struggling not to cringe when he yelled 600 strike. I don’t know why. I was trying so hard to be cool about it, but I just could not. And I don’t get how he beat Poseidon with a regular old sword in the middle of an ocean. AN OCEAN. WHICH POSEIDON CONTROLS. We saw how helpless Odysseus and his crew were against Poseidon in “Ruthlessness,” and now he just goes down after a few blows from Odysseus who, by the way, does not have any divine enhancements or support at the moment. The wind bag doesn’t give him super strength. His sword isn’t magically able to cut a god. How is he suddenly able to beat him? The power of friendship?? At least the trident doing damage makes sense because it’s Poseidon’s own weapon. Which brings me to my final point. Like I said earlier, the end of “600 Strike” was really impactful. However, because I don’t think it makes sense for Poseidon to have been in that position to begin with, I can’t say that it sat entirely well with me from a narrative standpoint. I’m not sure what I would’ve liked to see, but maybe I’ll make a separate post about it once I mull it over some more.

OK THAT’S A WRAP. Thanks to everyone who managed to get to the end of this rant. Went waaaay longer than I expected, but what can I say. I’m just a girl.

[divinesolas]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter Seven | Oh.

Summary | Jacaerys reflects, is annoyed by his family and learns some troubling news.

Pairing | Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader

Warnings | not proofread, probably ooc, jealous jacaerys

Word count | 1.6k

Series Masterlist

After you had left, Jacaerys felt himself grow bored of the events. The lady who had interrupted you two of you was now clung to his side, faking sickness he got to leave the garden earlier than intended. But not before he snags one of the roses from a bush.

 Once he finally makes it back to his room he sighs and sits at his table with his head on his hands. How much more of this could he take? He lifts his head and admires the flowers you had given him earlier that morning and touches them lightly.

A knock on the door startled him, “Enter.” His mother walked in and he stood up, “Your grace-” The look on her face made him pause, “Mother.” She smiled.

“I heard you were feeling unwell, are you okay?” He nods as he looks down, unable to look at her, “I'm sorry mother I just…” He trails off, he doesn't know what to say. “You don't have to apologize for my sweetness.” She touches his cheek and lifts up his head, “Sit.” 

He sits down in the chair he was just in and she sits in a chair next to his and grabs his hand. “You can tell me anything you know about this.” He nods and looks down. “I know my mother.” She smiles and nudges him, “So are there any ladies you like.” He looks up at his mother with a slight glare and she laughs. “I'm just asking sweetheart there must be at least one who caught your eye.” He moves to shake his head no but his mothers words cause him to freeze, “Maybe a certain girl who brought you some flowers.” His eyes widened at her alarmed, How did she know- “I am not blind my boy it is nice being queen you have eyes and ears everywhere.”he’s embarrassed. “She is not a true mother.” She's quiet and has a pensive look on her face before answering. “I told you, Jacaerys, these festivities are for you. You are free to pursue anything or anyone you wish.” 

She squeezes his hand and smiles at him, “I do hope you can keep your options open however, This decision is not one to be made lightly.” He nods as he considers the other ladies but you are the only one who pops into his mind just as you had all day. “She is the only thing I can think about.” His mother gives him a shocked look at his admission before she can speak. Another voice cuts her off, “That's exactly how I felt about your mother.” Two of them look at daemon who had silently entered the room. Rhaenrya smiles at him as he comes over and places a hand on her shoulder.

“You remember what i told you earlier don't you.” He nods as the demon's earlier words play in his mind, ‘ pursue what you want.’ “What did you tell him?” Rhaenyra asks but daemon does answer, shaking his head with a smile. “I'm sorry to interrupt but they need you for a council meeting.”  Rhaenyra stands and nods as she kisses jacaerys head, “I love you.” “I love you too.”

They leave and jacaerys is left alone. He picks up the rose he had gathered earlier from the garden, he wanted to give you his rose, give you his heart, he didn't care had he just met you, many people married with less of a connection anyways it would be no different. He rummaged through his drawer to find a small knife daemon had given him as a child and sat back down in the chair. He had no clue how to dethorn a rose, his fingers started to bleed slightly as he held the rose in his hand, Despite not knowing how he knew he couldn't give it to you like this. He sat there for a while cutting away at the rose until it looked good. He didn't know if it was dethroned but it was the best he could do. 

He left his room and he looked around. Where could your room be? He had no clue where to even look, he began to roam the halls but stopped and thought to himself. He couldn't go to you directly, He hasn't even asked your father for permission to court you, it would be terrible. But how would he get the rose to you?  Lost in thought he barely notices ser erryk walk into the hall and looks alarmed to see the prince. “My prince!” Jacaerys looks at him and an idea comes to his mind. “Ser erryk.” Erryk bows, “Good afternoon my prince.” “Do you happen to know where the lady dunn’s room is?” Erryk tilts his head, confused, “I do my prince, is something the matter?” 

He looks around quickly, noticing no one is there he turns back to him, “I need you to deliver something to her room during tonight's dinner, you must not be seen.” Ser erryk nods hesitantly, “Of… Of course my prince, anything.” Jacaerys hands him the rose he had hidden behind his back. Ser Erryks eyes widen and he sighs in relief as he smiles, “Of course my prince.” Jacaerys nods and turns to leave.

He walks down the hallway feeling satisfied. Once you got his rose you would know his intentions then the next day he shall ask your father for permission to court you. He smiles to himself as he imagines you and your smiling face, seeing you laugh and hearing you talk. “Ugh you're disgusting.” Aegon, he stands leaning against a wall with a cup of wine in his hand. “Imagining that poor girl from the poor house again.” “Shut your mouth, Aegon, do not speak badly about her.” 

Aegon fakes hurt before he rolls his eyes, “You're stupid if you think you're going to marry that girl.” Jaacerys glares at him, “What do you mean?” Aegon shakes his head and turns away from him, taking another sip. “This whole event is a lie, you're not going to get a choice, it's just so your mother knows all of her options and she can pick one that suits her needs. When she went on tour she never got to pick, they forced her to marry ser laenor, Your feelings dont matter.” 

Despite how hurtful Aegon's words are, they seem so real he can't help but believe them. The voice in his head plays this earlier conversation with his parents in his head. Maybe Aegon is just screwing with him like always, or maybe he’s being serious. He's not laughing like he would usually do and he's not even trying to gauge his reaction. “You don't mean that.” Aegon scoffs and turns to leave, “Take my advice, just forget about her and move on, you won't see her again after this.” It's too real, he doesn't even wait to see what he’ll say, what his face would look like he's gone in a blink of an eye and it makes him sick.  

No, his mother wouldn't lie to him. His father wouldn't lie. Is this whole thing really just a pretend event? Dreadfills his bones as he thinks of the flower he had sent to you. Maybe he should find erryk and ask him not to, before he can go searching he's rushed back to his room to get ready for the feast.

He’s hoping he can see you during the feast. He’s quickly proven wrong however. He never gets to see you, between your far away seat and him having to dance he never even gets a moment alone. When he finally gets to breathe and looks for you he spots you talking with joffrey arryn. He feels sick, he wants to march over there and steal you away. He sees you laugh and his hands clenched into a fist, he wants to be the one standing in front of you, getting to admire you and chat with you.

He almost walks over there but he doesn't get the chance as you leave, his eyes follow you as you go. He shakes his head and attempts to get back into the conversation this girl is desperately trying to keep in front of him but he can only think about you.

The next morning he woke up feeling worse, he had tossed and turned for the majority of the night not being able to find peace. Once he had been dressed for the day he had breakfast sent to his room to avoid his family.

Despite when all he wants to do is lay in his bed and rot his brother comes knocking on the door. “Come on, let's go train.” Jacaerys sighs as he sees lucerys and aemond standing in his doorway. “I dont know-” “It is your duty as crowned prince you must come.” Hearing almonds tone he knows he can't get out of it and gets up, “What has you so upset anyways?” Lucerys asks as they begin to walk down the hallway. “Well he's obviously heard the news.” This confuses jacaerys, “What news?” Aemond is not the one who turns to him confused, “The news that the lady dunn has entered a courtship with ser arryn for the vale? Is that not why you wear that odd look?” Jacaerys freezes and he feels sick, he hopes he’ll snap out of his dream and wake up to reality but it never comes and lucerys wears a face of horror. “Really?” “Yes, he asked her father for permission this morning.” All he wants them to do is shut up. Lucerys turns back to jacaerys “Brother-” “Do not say anything.”  

This can't be happening. 

----

Tags: @abrielletargaryen @aemondssiut @elissanatok

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Finding Each Other-Chapter 6

Fandom: Superman, Batman, Shazam, and Wonder Woman

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Dick Grayson, Diana Prince, Billy Batson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Kara Zor El, Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth, Lex Luthor, Jonathan Kent, Connor Kent

Summary: Clark Kent always knew he wanted a family. He just always thought it would be traditional like his parents. Little did he know that destiny had something different in store for him.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Whenever Clark needed to clear his head, he did one of two things. He either flew or find a crime to stop. Both allowed him to clear his mind and focus on the task at hand instead of what was consuming him at the moment: Bruce. He was able to bury his thoughts on telling Bruce about the baby (since he doesn’t know if there is a baby or not yet). However, he had begun to worry about his upcoming date with Bruce. He didn’t know what Bruce’s income was, but he knew that he had to be making millions to afford the mansion he lived in. 

How can you impress a man who seems to have everything?

As Clark flew around Metropolis in his Superman costume, he came across a foe to keep his mind from spiraling: Livewire. She had an edge over most of his other rogues. She was made of pure electricity which made fighting her in hand-to-hand combat very difficult. After fighting with her for about an hour, he was finally able to subdue her by opening up a fire hydrant and spraying water at her. As he tied her up and was about to fly away with her, he looked around and felt the color from his face drain. 

Dammit, I didn’t realize that in pursuing her that we entered Gotham. Bats is touchy about metas being here without his permission. 

Clark sighed. He didn’t want a confrontation with the man. He suddenly heard police sirens coming his way. He decided to leave Livewire tied up by a pole for the Gotham police to take care of her and then flew up out of sight to the roof of the nearest building so he could watch to make sure the police were able to transfer her safely. 

After he landed on the roof and situated himself, he heard someone say excitedly, “Hey Superman!”

He quickly looked behind him and up to see that Robin was waving at him from a platform on the roof. Clark kept a passive face, but internally, he was trying to control his breathing. 

Kid nearly scared the crap out of me. I didn’t sense him at all.

Robin smiled and did a double backflip from the platform. 

Clark smiled. 

The kid is definitely impressive and has tons of skills. 

Robin beamed at Clark and exclaimed, “It is awesome to see you hear. Are you here to work a case?” Robin started bouncing up and down and asked excitedly, “If so, can we work with you?”

Clark chuckled at Robin’s enthusiasm and said, “Maybe some other time. I just caught Livewire.” Clark looked down to the street where he had left Livewire and saw that the police were putting her in custody. Clark breathed a sigh of relief and said, “It looks like the police are transferring her now so I will be going soon.”

Robin pouted and said, “No fair. I always wanted to work together.”

Clark chuckled as he ruffled Robin’s hair which caused him to laugh.

“Maybe another time sport. Besides, I am still not too sure how keen your boss is about working together.”

Suddenly, a lower gravel voice said, “You could also ask instead of staying in suspense.”

Clark nearly had to hold back a yelp. He gradually turned around to see Batman staring at him. 

What is it with these two and stealth? They can give a person a heart attack on how silently they move.

Clark forced a smile on his face even though he was internally worried that two people had gotten past his spatial awareness. 

“I hope that I am not stepping on any toes. I know your no metas rule, but the battle against one of my rogues led me here. Now that the police have them, I was just about to leave.”

Batman nearly smirked but quickly changed his face back to passive. Clark frowned at the quick subtlety.

Does he find me being here funny?”

Batman stared at Clark for a moment and then asked, “Do you know why I have the no meta rule?”

Clark looked at him hesitantly for a moment and said, “No.”

Batman moved a little closer to Clark and said, “I love Gotham with every fiber of my being, but it is one of the most corrupt places in the United States. Do you know how corruption instilled itself here?”

Clark shook his head. 

Batman took another step forward and said, “Power. People use power to not only abuse others but force them to bend to their will. It is bad enough when ordinary people do this, but if metas got involved and used their powers in the situation…it can lead to chaos.”

Superman frowned and said, “I get what you mean. However, not all metas are like that. Some like me just want to help people and make a difference in society.”

Batman stared at him for a moment and said, “I know that there are good metas out there, but sometimes power has a way of sinking its teeth in even the most noble of people and bringing out their inner monster.”

Clark raised an eyebrow and asked, “Isn’t that being a little cynical?”

Batman took another step forward to where they were within inches of each other. As much as Clark wanted to flinch, he kept his ground. 

Batman stared at Clark a moment before sighing and said, “The former district attorney, Harvey Dent, used to be the White Knight Gotham not only needed but craved. He was hard on organized crime, and had started to make a dent in the city, but then….” Batman’s face grew solemn for a couple of seconds. He shook his head and schooled his face back to passive and said, “Then he changed to a person that I don’t recognize anymore. It is disheartening, to say the least.”

Clark stared at him baffled. He had never seen Batman display any emotion beyond anger and discontentment. He also focused on the words, “…changed to a person that I don’t recognize anymore.”

I wonder if he knew Harvey Dent personally. If he did, that had to be traumatizing to see someone you care for become something so unrecognizable. 

Read the rest on AO3.

[lostheretics]

PLOT TWIST (5)

▸ chapter 5: the rise of the new boss

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4 || pt. 5

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : there was a saying that learning is a lifelong process. what will you learn about the underworld, the first time you stepped into it? you might have what they call a beginner’s luck, but will that be enough for the things you’ll be facing soon?

✵ notes : stopped counting on how many words but i try to make it lengthy as possible. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. i was thinking of making a taglist for this fic. taglist will be used for updates; ANY updates regarding PT. just drop ur @ in my askbox. also, PLS REBLOG.

WARNINGS BELOW CUT

☒ warnings: none for now but do remind me if there’s one. a lil bit of discrimination from wooyoung but not in a bad way (kinda, but not that bad)

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.

you believe in destiny, fate, universe, whatever they’re called. you put your whole faith in it. you trusted them and their work, putting one and one together to make to or even ten. after all, it's also the one reason you and wooyoung beat all odds and be together.

but not to this extent. you refused to believe it.

to believe the pair of arms that caught you just days before became the arms that lead you in a dance session. to believe the same pair of brown eyes to look at you once more. to believe that the stranger who helped you when you almost faint, in work, embarrassingly, is to be the one you work with. your new goal.

cue the famous line from that one song, what kind of fuckery is this?

“you seemed so quiet for someone who’s looking for an ally.”

uhm, because i’m fucking flabbergasted? too stunned to speak?

“i hope you don’t plan on running away, again.” he added, “i just wanna get to know you.”

you laughed nervously, “of course not, sir- uh, mr. kim,” you stuttered, “i don’t know how to properly address you.”

he twirled you before catching you in his arms again. “mr. kim would suffice for now. though i hope we’ll get close enough in the future to be on first name basis.” younghoon said. “and how should i address you? miss y/n? mrs. jung?”

“anything’s fine mr. kim.”

the dance continued.

it was a moment where you could finally savor, or, to put it less romantically and more professionally, it was a moment where you could finally take a good look on the man.

kim younghoon's name has been there for some time, but little was known about his private life. typical of the seoul kims. his business life, however, is the talk of the town.

he never failed in pursuing his business endeavors, alongside his brother. not a single dirt on his name was found despite him still being young in the field. the kim brothers; kim younghoon himself and his younger brother kim seokhun were every parents dream on a child, especially one with a family business.

his soft brown eyes were ones you'll never forget. they were so soft, unlike the ones you saw all your life; dull, full of hatred, and all that bad stuff. and the way his eyes smiled along when he smiled... you thought, a man this soft and pure-looking shouldn't be working in this part of the world.

"juyeon sent you to work with me, but i know he wanted more than just that." younghoon muttered. his hard gaze was evident despite him not looking at you, opting to scan the room.

"he wanted something regarding my family."

"mr. lee sent me to work with you, yes. we're grateful that he even mentioned our name and recommending us to you. however, he did so because he believed my group's main business is in the same field as yours, and that it'll make more sense." you said, ever so carefully while studying his face. you took a bold move, putting your body closer to his while strengthening your hold on his shoulder.

"but, regardless of that, i would truly like to work with you, mr. kim. my group wishes to. i'd like to try it with you, and i hope you can make good use of ateez in the future, as well as lending a hand for us to step further, higher, and better in the business." you declared. "i'm not blind. i know what's happening between your family and the lees, and i don't have a say in it at all. but i would like for you to consider work between ateez and the kims, unrelated to any of the lees." you reassured.

and lastly, for the cherry on top, you stared straight on his eyes, pleading.

"give us the chance to prove ourself, mr. kim."

younghoon just stared at you, while his brain processed everything you just said. you were right, the kims main business in the medicine field were compatible with kang industries that yeosang ran with his sister. that alone could be a reason for the both of you to actually talk business with each other.

he was a businessman after all, any chance is worth something if you pursue it first.

the music stopped, meaning the dance session ended. clapping sounds were heard all over the hall. you took your hands off of younghoon's, bowing at the said man.

you thought it just ended like that, but it took you by surprise when younghoon took your hand in his, raising your knuckles to his lips before landing a gentlemanly kiss ok the back of your hand. his eyes never left you when he sent you a soft smile.

"i'll have my secretary invite ateez for a business talk. as soon as the gala ends" he stated, before continuing, "it was a nice dance, mrs. jung."

"party's done. everyone retreating in ten."

wooyoung chugged down his champagne while scanning around the room, giving nods to every member in his sight as a sign. he greeted the rest of his acquaintance, before leaving the scene.

just as he was about to exit the hall, a hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him in his track. a once scowl on his face turned into a friendly smile when he turned around and was greeted by seo changbin.

"my man, binnie!" he gave the buff man a hug, not to mention a tap on his back. "what's up?"

"not much. are you guys leaving already?" he asked while looking around, noting some ateez members already heading out of the hall. he clicked his tongue in an unapproved manner. "it's still early, though. how am i gonna catch up with my best friend?" he lightly pouted.

"the only thing you'll catch is these hands if you ever do that thing again." wooyoung jested, and changbin only laughed.

once the laugh died down, he took a step closer to wooyoung, lowering his voice as he watched around.

"got some words from chan. mind sparing me some time?"

wooyoung lifted his wrist to watch the time. he still got eight minutes left. he nodded at changbin before leading the man away from the crowd, opting for a quieter side of the hall just by its door.

"what's up? business doing okay?" he asked.

changbin only shrugged, "it's fine. work here and there, cusses, blood, what's new?" then he raised his hand to rest on wooyoung's shoulder. "congrats to ateez, by the way." he complimented.

he then stated, "it's the talk of the town right now, you know? the fact that ateez, a gang took down a royal family, by a new member no less. i'm talking about your wife, mrs. jung y/n." changbin chuckled lightly when he saw a change in wooyoung's expression, a cocky smirk along with a subtle red tint on his cheeks. a sense of pride rose within wooyoung.

"a good catch they say."

wooyoung almost giggled. "damn right. thanks for the words though,"

done with the chitchat, changbin cleared his throat as he turned to wooyoung.

"chan said he met your wife at some casual networking party just a couple months ago, hongjoong did the introduction. safe to say he was intrigued." wooyoung turned his head to changbin upon his choice of words.

lifting a brow, he chuckled. "same thing happened to me before i married her."

changbin clicked his tongue, "not in that way, of course." he objected, slightly cringing over the thoughts of his boss creating a drama worthy act like that. "you know chan, you've heard about it, right? that he rarely missed when it comes to judging someone, especially the businessmen or women."

"i've heard some of it. and what about it?"

"the other day he sort of said something about y/n and talents, that she could be a big thing soon. and surprise, surprise, not long after that the news came like a fucking thunder, a shock to everyone and especially chan. ateez was about to lose but she just casually lifted you up and took down the whole family."

checking at his watch, he quickly pointed out. "so, what does he want exactly?"

"chan's got an info. an inside job. new weapon supplies and exchanges, i'm talking new types and big money. the job's too big to take for us alone and he already thought of making a collaboration between our team since ateez got a good capo, and you got mingi and yunho on weaponries. your reputations preceded you," he exhaled, before continuing. "but ever since he met y/n and heard of the news, he wanted to go even further. chan wants y/n in the job. with your captain's permission, of course, but he wants her to directly sit on the table where he and hongjoong will be. chan wanted me to tell you that, and he hopes to hear good answers from hongjoong."

by the time changbin was done with his explanations, wooyoung was already stunned. he was taken aback at the fact that you rose so quick to be able to catch other's attention. he was slightly agape, eyes widened. to be able to stand beside hongjoong, to sit right next to him is to be next to the captain by rank. though unofficial, the conversation itself could be a proof that you're an equal to seonghwa and yeosang.

you had him floored, truly.

"could you please try to put some words to hongjoong? chan really wants this." changbin's plead broke wooyoung's train of thoughts.

he nodded lightly. "i'll see what i can do," he promised the man.

he lifted his wrist once more. seeing the time had passed, he took a step back. "i have to go now. i'll let you know of the outcome soon."

"wait!" changbin almost yelled, stopping wooyoung on his track.

"what?" he asked. changbin hurriedly walk to wooyoung as his hands dug around his suit pocket. upon finding the item, he quickly put the piece of paper in wooyoung's pocket.

"i almost forgot." changbin moved closer towards wooyoung and whispered, "come to the show. capos business. yeonjun found a new spot, some rough diamonds ready to be trained if you're recruiting new members."

he stepped back, tapping on wooyoung's pocket before retreating.

"thank me later."

“they’re leaving the premises, sir.”


the minion retreated, leaving juyeon and his champagne on the balcony. his eyes watched as a couple of cars left his mansion, particularly the last car that carried you and your husband.

it was something that he used to love to do with his father; watching people come and go. the only difference were his father is no longer around, and that it has become his job.

upon watching the way you sway in the dress he gave, hand in hand with your husband as you got in the car, he gripped on his glass harder as he tried to breathe, not even realizing he was holding his breath the entire time. there was this uneasiness, a storm brewing in the pit of his stomach. he didn’t believe in anything unworldly or superstitious, but he believed in himself. of what he sees, what he feels, what he understands.

it didn’t take long for him to saw power in ateez.

one that could endanger his, though he didn’t know the source nor the reason for it. for that, he’ll have to dig deeper.

“something’s coming.” he murmured, enough to be heard by another party standing behind him. he whispered again, “i can feel it in my bones.”

park jipsa, the one who stood behind him sighed, “are you afraid?”

“never.”

“then you’ll know what to do.”

if there ever was something brighter than the sun, it must’ve been hongjoong’s grin, pulled all the way back showing his pearly smiles you thought his skin would soon tear apart.

the man was practically beaming.

and you silently took pride in being one of the reason so.

“business looking good.”

“damn right it is.”

it was just you, hongjoong, seonghwa, and yeosang in the room. breakfast was done and group meeting ended, yet the ambitious man kept you around to discuss everything further. there were papers scattered, calls made, and coffees on the table.

“i’ve checked around,” yeosang chipped in, while rearranging the documents discussed for the meeting, “if we’re actually working with the kims, emphasize on if, if everything works, we’ll have easier access to some of our stuff, both importing and exporting. the drug development is looking good right now, and we’ll have much exposure with their help. we’re gonna make more money soon.”

“that sounds good, yeosang. great, actually.” hongjoong beamed, smiling at yeosang. the man stood near his desk, phone still in his hand, just finishing a deal went well.

seonghwa chuckled, “you feel good?”

“fuck yeah, hwa. yeah i feel good.” he almost screamed. “of course i feel good, everything’s looking good like this. and if it actually works i might do a somersault myself.”

“you look like you’re gonna do that now.”

you laughed along with the guys.

after pacing back and forth, energetically, and with happy thoughts one would assume the mafia leader might be a child trapped in a man’s body, hongjoong finally sat down. he tapped his fingers on the table, before finally making up his mind, pointing at each party around him.

“okay, here’s what. we have so much in our hands right now, but i’d like for everything to work out and i put my trust in you guys,” hongjoong stared at each of you, “i’m all in for you.”

he pointed at seonghwa. “i’m sending seonghwa to japan to settle down. you’ll be our representation there hwa, until i finish things in here. the most important thing is to make a powerful link to that family.” he said, moving to yeosang as soon as seonghwa nodded his head.

“yeosang, as usual with kang industries, but i want you to bring y/n around as a representative too. she’s gonna be the link between us to the kims and drug business, so it’s good for the both of you.”

you and yeosang couldn’t help but to stole glances, surprised by the mission but acknowledging each other still.

hongjoong raised his phone, tapping it several times before speaking again, “wooyoung got words from chan last night, and chan just made a call this morning. he wants a collaboration between our group for a job. there are new weapons coming in, big job. chan’s got his hand on it but figured it’d be too big to handle alone, but dangerous if handled by too many. so we’re in, and i’m also taking y/n in this, per chan’s request.”

he turned to you. “you’re gonna have so much in your hands this time, you know this right?”

you nodded.

“but with stray kids, you’ll just be a spectator on the table. i’ll handle the big game with chan. i want you to focus more on the kims and kang industries. your main job right now is the kims. do you understand?”

“yes.”

“good.”

birds fly fast.

but the rumors flew faster in this house.

it didn’t take long for everyone in this house to find out about you. and your new… job. or perhaps rank. a housewife turned… consigliere? underboss? hongjoong hasn’t give you an official rank within the group yet. however it didn’t take a genius to see how high up your position were.

you’re working straight with yeosang, second in command in ateez next to seonghwa, ateez’s face and representative in the outside world. your job was as important as seonghwa’s, hongjoong’s righthand man, the underboss of ateez. each of every job you’ve done you’d report back straight to hongjoong, and hongjoong took you almost everywhere he goes.

on top of that, you’ve been giving counsels to hongjoong even before you had your debut in the underworld.

you’re as good as a consigliere, just not officially, yet.

there was contentment, of course, yet it also comes with burdens. one that you fear you wouldn’t be able to bear. but you will do your best, for your family. for wooyoung. to make him proud.

and he couldn’t be more proud of you.

wherever ateez goes, wherever he goes, he wouldn’t stop gushing about you every time someone brought your name up. lowkey, of course. just to make sure everyone knows you’re his wife. that you’re great, yes, but you’re definitely off limits.

exactly like tonight.

he eyed the piece of paper in his hand, before eyeing the traditional restaurant in front of him. it was a small, dimly-lit building. an old woman walked around, delivering orders though not much, as they didn’t have much customers for the night.

he fished out his phone out from his pocket, typing a name before pressing the call button.

“hello?” changbin’s voice rang through his speaker.

“i’m outside. are you sure this is the place?” wooyoung asked, throwing glances with yunho, jongho, and san behind him.

“it’s a small restaurant, right? did you see the old lady?”

“yeah? and?”

changbin chuckled, “just get in. take a seat, and when she asked for your order, just ask her if mr. kim’s soju is on the menu today. come fast, the match’s about to start.” and with that, changbin hanged up.

putting his phone back on his pocket, he whisked his head, signaling the boys to enter the place with him. they took a table, and before long, the old lady came to their table, asking for their orders. wooyoung looked around, making sure no one’s hearing them, before getting closer to the lady.

“is mr. kim’s soju on the menu today?”

the old lady just smiled and nodded. “it’s stored just right there. come along and pick for yourself, young man.”

that’s how they got into the hidden basement deep under the ground, by an elevator just behind the fridge in the kitchen.

when the elevator stopped, changbin was standing in the hallway. he greeted them with a smile, shaking wooyoung’s hand firmly.

“cool place, right?” he quipped, then shook hands with jongho, yunho, and san.

changbin led them further into the basement. even from the hallway, rough noises were already heard, and it got louder as they got closer.

illegal fights weren’t a secret anymore. but as they got deeper, more secluded, the more blood got spilled, the more animalistic the fighters get, the bigger the prize. this is where the mafias recruit new members, new associates.

the rings were surrounded by rough looking men, some older, some younger. the fighter on the ring looked all bloody and bruised, but still standing on their feet fighting for their life. hollers here and there, nothing new.

they all took a table not far from the ring. yeonjun and beomgyu were seen, along with jisung and jeongin. they greeted each other.

“the consigliere’s husband!” yeonjun quipped with a playful tap on wooyoung’s back. wooyoung chuckled. with pride, of course.

“so what’s the hype?” wooyoung asked, half yelling to catch yeonjun’s attention. the lad pointed his finger to each rings, getting himself close to wooyoung and the others.

“gems. lots of them,” he yelled, pointing at one of the ring, “see that guy over there?” he asked, pointing at a tall man, not buff, but muscular and calculative enough to look not so affected while his opponent looked like he’s about to faint.

yeonjun spoke again, “he’s an ex NIS agent. i think he got ousted, betrayed, whatever. and that’s just one of the few. there are other fighters, former gang members, ex police, ex NIS, ex professionals— whatever we’re looking for. so take a pick!” he said, before continuing.

“but be careful, they also might be onto something if they go this deep. either all in or all out.”

the pungent smell of blood was nothing new, combined with the smell of sweat of all people, burnt cigarettes, liquors of all kinds. in fact, none of them seemed to be distracted by any of the smell, the sound, or even the people who were drunk off their minds falling around them.

their eyes, especially wooyoung’s were focused on each ring or around the room, scanning all within the room trying to find new recruits or maybe new connections.

a bell was heard, a ring near them just announced a winner before quickly moving on. a pair of new fighters stepped onto the ring, one of them a rough looking men, presumably already fought a fight before this one, and his opponent…

…a woman?

her hair was tied up, cuts and bruises here and there but not enough to disguise her beauty. physically she’s far smaller than the man, less muscular, yet she hold no fear in her eyes.

“what’s a pretty girl doing in this hellhole?” wooyoung murmured,

right before the girl ducked down and punched his opponent right on his chest, hard enough to make him cut his breath. then landed a punch to his right cheek, followed by his left cheek. and a final kick to his head, quickly sending the man to his sleep, hopefully not an eternal one.

and that’s how she won the game.

not to mention leaving wooyoung speechless. that was a quick game. and she looked like a gem. a fighter like that would make jobs easier, faster, and more efficient.

he was deep in his thoughts, until san nudged him, “are you seeing what i’m seeing?”

wooyoung looked back at san, observing his line of sight, only to bring his eyes back to the said woman.

a gem in sight indeed.

“her?”

“yes, her. we need her. i want her. we gotta take her.” he mouthed. he then pulled wooyoung by the shoulder, and proceeded to stare into wooyoung’s eyes with the most serious look he could muster. “seriously wooyoung, i can’t handle this charmer—grifter shit alone anymore. we need a charmer. and i mean it.”

“san, we’re on budget and we’re here to look for a bodyguard—“ he was about to state but san had cut him off.

“did you not see the way she threw that punches? she can be a bodyguard. she is muscle.”

“yes, but—“ wooyoung hesitated, “i don’t know man, a lady bodyguard?”

san gasped. “that’s discrimination, what the fuck?”

“not in that way!” wooyoung bit back, “i don’t know man, i’m just not sure. she’s all great, it’s just—”

“but what?” san pressed.

san wasn’t wrong, they do need a charmer. san was the only charmer ateez had— they do have others, just not as good as san, hence the lad had to do most jobs by himself. the last time they had a good charmer other than san, but they got killed in action.

being a grifter, a charmer, he did get to know most thing and even on the deeper part of the underworld. any place he want, anyone, he could get through anything, most of the times. but ultimately, he was fed up. doing what he did best alone might finally took a toll on him.

so with the hard look, now turned puppy eyes, there was no way wooyoung could say no to san, the charmer himself.

he sighed. “you know what? fuck that. go and get her if you want.”

there were probably fireworks bursting behind san’s eyes, that’s the only logical reason (though far from logic itself) for the sparkle in his eyes. choi san quickly bolted away from the table, adamant on getting and recruiting the woman.

wooyoung, with yunho and jongho on the other hand sticked to the main plan; find new muscles to recruit. yeonjun, changbin and their own gang were soon scattered around the basement with their own mission to accomplish. jongho was still looking around, and yunho was still seen talking to the possible recruits.

wooyoung was just talking to one of the possible recruit, giving them his business card when san pulled him away to a corner. he kept guiding on wooyoung with this grin on his face, pushing him around until wooyoung finally faced the lady they’ve been talking about.

“so this is wooyoung,” san made the intro, “he’s our trainer, supervisor, and not to mention my best friend. and we—” he stepped back behind wooyoung, “—are interested in taking you in with us.”

taking a good look in the closer distance, she looked even better. her skin looked soft, save some scratches and scars here and there, but they were mostly healed leaving just a white mark. her eyes were brown, and like when she was on the ring, had this striking look.

this one’s definitely a charmer. she just needs to be guided, and they got a perfect teacher for her. stretching his hand out, wooyoung offered her a formal handshake.

“wooyoung.”

she watched his stretched hand for a while. the unsure glint in her eyes started to flicker along the time, and she finally took wooyoung’s hand.

“son jiwoo.”

the tall, black door seemed so big and scary.

despite it being just a plain door to a restaurant.

you might think it’s the door, but a part of you knew more than that. that wasn’t just a door you had to pass, a restaurant you must enter.

kim younghoon was waiting somewhere in that restaurant for you. this was going to be your first meeting with younghoon, and you gotta make sure it’s going well. this is your first big mission, as a member of ateez.

you straighten your floral dress, fixing any possible crease before stepping inside. a waiter came to your aid, giving their best smile, “may i help you?”

you smiled back. “i have a reservation, with mr. kim younghoon. is he here?”

the waiter smiled even wider, “ah, madam! yes, mr. kim has been waiting for you. let me take your jacket.” they spoke, as they pulled your jacket off of you. “if you please follow me, madam.”

the waiter guided you to a table near the glass window, where you found younghoon sitting in a formal, yet casual look. the white fitted top and light brown pants. upon the announcement of your arrival, kim younghoon turned his head, offering you a smile so bright. the gentlemen even stood up, pulling your seat for you instead of letting the waiter do that for you.

“you look nice.” he complimented.

“and you more. i thought the suits were your best look, but these? gorgeous.”

he chuckled, “trying to charm me straight away, i see.”

“yes, but some truth can’t be hidden for too long. i also have to charm my future colleague for a chance, right?” you quipped back, earning a soft laugh from younghoon.

“you’re straightforward. i like it, it’s also the way that i am and used to.” he said. he laid back to his chair, looking at you before asking, “a straightforward man gotta speak his mind, am i right?”

“yes they do, i suppose.”

he took your answer in silence. he looked out through the window, watching the bright afternoon sky and people on the street,, seemingly deep in thoughts. gone were the light atmosphere when you got there.

then younghoon spoke one sentence and a question. the easiest way to phrase and conclude your whole mission.

“i know juyeon sent you to fix things between our families. correct?”

upon the sudden intrusion, your body froze for a second. your lips almost quivered, letting out broken words, having nothing to come up with. kim younghoon fired a bullet and it hit right on the bullseye. and he didn’t even mention anything about anything work related, despite that being one of your most important reason to pursue him.

younghoon’s eyes were back on you, and you had no choice but to spit the truth out.

“yes, you’re right, mr. kim,” you sighed, but not yet defeated. “and i’m aware of… the gap between your families, that it’s not in a good condition.”

“how much did you know?”

“that your family was a supporter to lee jiyoung back when the war was happening.” you stated.

he clicked his tongue, “i wish it was as easy as that, mrs. jung.” he sighed as he leaned back onto his chair.

“i wish to help in many ways, mr. kim. in this way, because juyeon sent me for this reason. but other than that, a work with your family is what my family aim for. a personal gain. both, or one of them is enough for me and i’m willing to do the job.” you told him, straightforwardly. “is there something i can do to fix this?”

“to fix the gap between the lees and kims? i don’t know, mrs. jung. i’m not sure if there’s a way at all,” he shrugged.

but he quickly added in, “but, regarding ateez and my family, i think we both have a chance for that. i’ve spoken with my father, and maybe, just maybe, if this works, we’ll consider juyeon’s purpose of… mending the two families. now the question remain; would you take the job, and could you do it well?”

“i’m willing to try and do my best for anything.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

the man smiled, grinning almost. “then it starts now.” he said. younghoon raised his hand, catching the sight of a waiter.

entrees were served, followed by main dishes. younghoon and you talked about each other, and he talked a lot about himself.

how he and his brother were raised in england, before moving at the age of 15 back to korea. he went to university, took classes in law school before graduating, not only from a prestigious uni but also with honors. since that, he’s been helping his father around along with his brother regarding their family business, as they’re the ones who’s going to take their father’s place place someday.

kim younghoon was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

yet he seemed far from those whiny nepo babies who fed themselves off of their father’s pocket, but act like they rule the whole world. his family’s money might back him up, but he ruled his own brain, branding himself as the smart and hardworking guy from a wealthy family who could lead even without his father’s hand in the matter.

in short, he’s a man that everyone dreams to become.

the conversation went smooth up until dessert was served. you couldn’t help yourself but to blurt out, “so, what’s the job? when am i gonna do it?”

“oh, we’re actually doing it right now,” he quipped, putting another slice of cake into his mouth.

“what?”

younghoon didn’t say anything, only flicking his hand to call for the waiter. the waiter soon came with a bright smile as they put a velvet box right in front of you. not forgetting to say what a lucky woman to have a partner like that.

a partner?

you were still not functioning perfectly, still deep in your thoughts and confused even when younghoon pushed the velvet box towards you. “open it.” he said.

“mr. kim, i— i’m, i’m not sure i—“ you had stuttered, but he silenced you up.

“just open the box.”

per his command, your hands moved to open the box. upon the first touch, you could feel the soft velvet under your fingers, quickly understanding the high quality of the box, and perhaps, the item within it. curiosity might kill the cat, but not you, you believed as you opened the box and found a piece of necklace within it. a pearl necklace stared back at you from that box.

wordlessly, younghoon stood up. he took the necklace out of its box before bringing it near your neck. his hands softly moved your hair to the side, and you quickly responded by bunching your hair in your fist, giving him access to your bare neck. as he put on the necklace, he lowered his lips next to your ear.

“you’ll find a woman to your right, dressed in all green. she’s mrs. han, a socialite in gangnam and wife to mr. han, one of the most important people in the ministry of health,” he whispered to you, “she knows me, and might’ve been watching us since the beginning. she has a daughter around our age and she had been wanting to… arrange a marriage between our families.”

“and my job is…?”

finishing on putting the necklace on, younghoon simply smiled to you. “…to be my partner. fiancee, girlfriend, whatever. to put on a show. i don’t want to be engaged in that way, but i have a brother and he’s willing to do that in my stead,”

“there’s an upcoming socialite party, and a little birdie told me you’re quite… persuasive,” he started to explain, “if you can get us an invitation, put some good words and convince her to make an arrangement between her daughter and my brother, you’ll have your way with my family. you see, we need this connection. a connection with her husband makes it easier for our drug business, even in exporting and importing. mr. han is one of the man ruling the country. prove yourself, and my father promises to invite you for a dinner, to talk about future business with ateez. even with the lees. and the offer’s still up even though you only succeeded in securing an invitation for us to the party.”

he straightened his back, offering his hand to you, “there’s still a chance to back out.”

you weren’t sure, but you shook your head and took his hand, “i won’t.”

younghoon smiled, almost so brightly, a quick change from his previous hard demeanor. he landed a long lasting kiss on the back of your hand, another added shock to you. you almost stuttered and about to pull your hand when he spoke,

“the necklace looks dashing on you, sweetheart.” he almost purred, shocking you.

“kim younghoon?”

the latter’s voice stopped you from pulling away. younghoon simply turned to the lady who called his name, giving her a smile.

“mrs. han,” he greeted back, bowing slightly, “good to see you again.”

mrs. han only chuckled, “then you should’ve visit me more often. i haven’t seen you around in any of my gatherings.” she looked behind younghoon, at you. “and i certainly have never seen this lovely lady with her lovely necklace around.” she quipped.

younghoon gave his hand for you to take, and you did, standing up from your seat next to him. “let me introduce you to my fiancee, y/n. she’s the reason i’m not around much, mrs. han. you can blame her for it.” he once again kissed your hand in a cheeky manner, and you giggled following his act. “i can’t seem to get her out of my life.” he continued.

you bowed slightly to the lady, offering her a sweet smile. “my name is y/n, pleasure to meet you mrs. han. younghoon told me many things about you.” you introduced yourself.

“all the good things, i hope.”

“don’t worry ma’am, he made me think you’re a great woman. and it shows now.”

she laughed, feeling content with your answer.

“and he didn’t forget to tell me how much of a good host you are for your party.” you smirked, starting your mission.

by the time you came home, it was almost midnight. you knew wooyoung would’ve fallen asleep by then, so you tiptoed your way into your room, with your heels in your hands.

your heart almost jumped out of your chest when the light suddenly turned on.

“where have you been?”

“shit, woo!” you cussed while holding your chest, almost panting. “baby? why aren’t you sleeping?”

wooyoung sat on the edge of your bed with his arms folded as he stared at you. “obviously, i was waiting for you.” he deadpanned, “you know i couldn’t sleep without you. so where have you been?”

you exhaled, feeling guilty that you left the man waiting for until midnight, completely forgetting the existence of modern phones and to tell him of your whereabouts. “oh, baby,” you walked up to him, cradling his face in your palms.

“i’m so sorry i made you wait,” you kissed his forehead, “i had lunch with kim younghoon, and he gave me a task. i spent the whole day planning and then reporting to hongjoong, and we had a last minute meeting with stray kids. i should’ve told you, that’s my mistake,” you explained. wooyoung sighed defeatedly, finally accepting your apologies. he circled his hands on your waist.

“it’s okay.” he muttered.

you told him to get ready for bed, while you freshen up in the bathroom, finally ready to end the night. your body felt warm, being in your comfiest pajamas, and your heart follows when you saw wooyoung on bed tucked nicely under the blanket, with his arm stretched out welcoming you in his embrace.

“how was today’s scouting?” you asked with a small voice.

“it was okay,” he answered, listing the things he had done. “got some new muscles that i gotta train. met yeonjun and changbin. and… oh!” he gasped, making you look up to him.

“what is it?”

“you know, me and san found this girl while scouting, she was badass,” he said and you could practically see the sparks in his eyes, “she fought this buff man in like, 5 seconds, though i think the man was more of muscle than skills, but isn’t that cool? san wanted her so bad he ran straight to her after the fight.”

“anyways i didn’t want to scout her at first but san would probably held me on a gunpoint if i refuse him—“ you both laughed, “—yeah right? so long story short we probably got ourselves a new charmer. i think san’s gonna teach her more, but i’ll still have to take part in physical training.”

you hummed, “san fell in love at the first sight, huh?”

wooyoung nodded, “i think i did too.”

you playfully hit his chest, making him wince dramatically as he held his chest.

“jung wooyoung! don’t you dare fall in love with her!” you threatened him. the bastard husband of yours grinned.

“are you jealous?”

“hm, i don’t know. what would you think if i hooked up with kim younghoon?”

“hey!” he whined, clearly not liking the idea of you and another man side by side. not even one bit. and that was something everyone know, and some even witnessed it with their own eyes, referring to your previous encounter with lee juyeon.

you laughed to his blatant jealousy, and maybe, seeing the smile in your face and the sound of your melodic laugh to his ears were the reason for him laughing along with you.

wooyoung pulled you close to his body, putting his chin on top of your head. the smell of your shampoo invaded his nose, and somewhat it relaxed him all the time. maybe it’s your shampoo, or maybe, it’s the fact that you’re close to him.

he breathes slowly, but you could hear his heart beating fast behind his chest. some things change, but you realize one thing stays the same; his heartbeat. whenever you put your head to his chest you always hear the same fast beat from his heart.

and you know yours beats the way his did.

“i can never love anyone else but you.”

his voice pierced through the silence as he murmured the words into your hair.

maybe it was his voice. maybe it was the sentence, the words. maybe it’s both things combined, the reason why you feel such warmth in your heart and the pleasant butterflies flying in your stomach. the combination of two simple things, yet magical enough for you to take it as a sign of love.

love.

you buried your face into his chest, trying to hide your smile. all you could say was, “i love you, woo.”

simple sentence that also warmed his heart.

to both lovers like you, those moment felt like it’s just you both against the world. in your vows; both in happiness or sadness.

“will i see you again?”

wooyoung suddenly asked. the nature of the question making you pull away from him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“what kind of question is that?” you asked back, looking up to his face.

he seemed doubtful, that was clearly painted all over his face, visible from his eyes, the way it glinted.

wooyoung sighed. “i don’t know. you have a job, so many things to do now that hongjoong trusts you. and i’m happy for you, baby, i truly do, it’s just—“ he hesitated for a while before continuing.

“it’s— what if you get busier? what if we get so busy that… that we can’t even share a proper meal together like we used to? what if we can’t see each other as much as we used to back when we have less things to do? what if i can’t even hug you in my sleep at night? what if—“

“—what if we changed so much and turn in a direction we don’t want?”

late night thoughts do bring the most genuine question. and his was a valid one.

it’s no secret that marriage, no matter how sweet, how hot or cold, can suddenly turn lukewarm, tasteless, or even turn sour over the time.

that would be a nightmare. one that can turn very real, in any time, near or far.

to imagine a tasteless marriage life with your passionate husband made you crawl closer to him, burying your face in his chest to seek more warmth. the more seconds went the more you appreciate his prescence. taking in everything you could.

just in case it’d be your last.

“i promise we won’t turn that way, my love. i’ll do anything to keep us together. keep us, keep you safe.” you murmured into his chest.

“you just have to promise to love me still. like this. even when times go rough, when it eats us inside out, body and soul. even with the last sparks of love you have for me, love me. until i’m not here beside you.” you continued. you felt suffocated, unconsciously the littlest sniffle got out of you with the tears. “you’re all i have, wooyoung.”

desperation in it’s truest form.

but it’s true, you have no one but your husband. no family, no nothing. not even a life, if it was not for the past, or the present, given by your husband and his kin. and now that you’ve associated yourself with them, you, who used to have nothing, now have something. and it fears you to imagine losing them.

to go back to the solitude you were in before.

hearing your cries crushed him. he tightened his hands around you, securing you in his grasp, giving you the most comfort one could give. he might regret the way he voiced out his concerns today, yet it was an important question within your relationship.

and a silent way to say that he fears of losing you, too.

“i’m here, baby. i love you,” he said, giving a peck on your hair,

“and i promise to keep that love for as long as i live.”

NOT EVEN HALFWAY BUT I STILL WANNA FINISH THE WHOLE THING. enjoy. both in reading and waiting uwu

also we’re getting closer to… the start of the angst.

[stardust948]

Frenemies AU angst

(I found this in my drafts and decided to post it. Based off this post.)

Iroh is a senior in military school or already in the military. The parents gaang is junior year in HS so around 16 and 17

Ozai still lives with Azulon but Azulon is hardly at home bc of work. When he is there or when Ozai knows he’s coming soon, he just doesn’t come back until he leaves again. Either stays with Ursa in her RV or roams around town in his car. Later stays with Hakoda and Bato when they become closer friends.

Azulon blames Ozai for Ilah’s death since she died during childbirth. He’s always been emotionally and verbally abusive to Ozai but it didn’t get physical until Iroh left for military boarding school. Ozai was 8-10ish. Mainly involved being burned or tased, which left less of physical scars.

There was a big fight between the two when Ozai announced he wanted to go to Republic Arts high school and pursue a career as a musician. Azulon wanted Ozai to follow his footsteps and go to military school like Iroh. But he backed off after Iroh vouched for his brother. Still, he refused to pay for the school but Ozai earned a scholarship and Iroh covered the rest. Ozai swore up and down he’d pay him back but Iroh just told him to give him free backstage access to his concerts and they’re even. Azulon and Ozai avoided each other after that; strangers in the same home. They physical abuse ended but the threat was still there and the mental scars lasting.

After the incident at the contest, Ursa finds Ozai sitting in his car at the school’s parking lot. She knows better to ask if he’s alright or what was wrong. Instead, she tells him to get into her car and they go back to her RV. There, they spend the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling. Ozai’s feeling somewhat better in the morning; able to speak some but not back to his usual loveable a-hole self. Though he is confused to receive a text from Hakoda of all people checking on him.

Hakoda: Hey man, you good?

Ozai: Are you seriously asking me if I’m good after burning a layer of my skin off?

Hakoda: You kinda just left after without a word.

Ozai: Because I burned a layer of my skin off.

Hakoda: Ozai, I’ve seen you explode over someone using your special pen without permission but you just shut down after burning your hand. Are you sure you’re okay?

Ozai: Who won?

Hakoda: Poppy.

Ozai: We’re going to be hearing about that for all next week.

Hakoda: She was pretty worried about you. We all were. You know, you can talk to me if you want.

Ozai: I just wanted to know who won. Now stop bothering me or I’m blocking you.  

Ozai closed his phone. Just then Ursa stuck her head through the door.

“Hey, my mom made pancakes. You want any?”

Ozai shook his head.

“Alright honey. Keep an eye on my children. I’ll be right back.”

Ozai smiled some as he rolled his eyes. Ursa always referred to her hoard of plants and succulents as her children. Still exhausted, he laid back down and pulled the cover over his head. Out of curiosity, he check his phone one last time.

Hakoda: Ok. See at school.

Ozai powered down his phone. He didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. He ran a hand along the bandages before drifting back to sleep.

///

The conversation they had in the janitor’s closet came flooding back. Hakoda’s seen Ozai fly off the rail many times, but that was the first time he looked guenically hurt. Hakoda’s clumsy joke about Dads also didn’t help. Hakoda cringed at the memory.

His mind drifted to the events after. The dark play Ozai wrote about the little boy slowly dying in the burning building wishing only to see his father again. Finally meeting Ozai’s father with his cold exterior and calculating eyes that made even the brash self-confident Ozai shrink back. And to top it off, Ozai saying he’d never seen his father look happier.

Hakoda didn’t know what to think at the time. He just assumed Azulon was like his father, criticizing his every move and lamenting how he wasn’t good enough.

///

Ozai refuses to bring it up despites Ursa’s suggestions of seeking professional help, even after he and Ursa wed and had children. Not until he lost his temper with Zuko and almost burned him like Azulon. Zuko’s horrified scream snapped Ozai out of it last second. Falling back onto old habits, Ozai took shelter in his car for the night and wept bitterly. Ursa finds him and directly tells him to get help which he finally relents.

It's very slow going but beneficial in the long run. Most importantly, his children never saw that side of Ozai again.

@waterfire1848

[llamamamarisen92]

Grief in Waterdeep - A Gathering of Friends

TW: alcoholism, threats, danger, sad, violence, death

Gale was different. This was not the magnaminous wizard they travelled with. He didn't seem... sad. Morrena had sent messages to all of them about the state He was in.

But as they were gathered in his receiving room he greeted them as if nothing in the world was wrong. But there was no joy in his interactions. His smiles and laughter coming into conflict with the hardness of his eyes.

After a few hours of drinking with old friends, Astarion finally came around to asking him about Helena. A bit of annoyance lacing his voice.

"You seem awfully fine for a man who lost the love of his life." Astarion's gaze was hard. Unwilling to shy away as Gales face settled into a dangerous expression. Gale quickly schooled his face back into his former composure.

"It would seem you are not here merely to visit then?" He scanned all of them, the energy in the room shifted uncomfortably. "Well, since you are all here perhaps we can discuss some things."

Gale settled into an intricately carved chair next to the fire place. Whiskey in his hand. Astarion noted the amount of times he repoured the liquid in that glass. Clearly his tolerance had grown since there was hardly a slur.

Gale sipped from his glass and a strange smile spread across his face. There seemed to be an unknown force whispering in his ear. "Since you are all here, perhaps.. perhaps you could be of assistance to me." Leaning forward, he propped his free hand on his knee. "It turns out on our little adventure we unwittingly uncovered the key to bringing Helena back."

Alarm bells signaled in Astarion's brain. He had spent enough time around mad men to recognize the tell tale signs in his friend. But part of him was intrigued at the notion of Helena being back in their lives. They had failed in their romance, but she was his very best friend in the entire world.

Gale assessed Astarion, recognizing the spark of interest. "You know as much as I do how special she was. She saved the entire world. Perhaps it is time for the world to repay that debt." He pulled out the tome they found in Ketheric's bed chambers.

Halsin immediately stood up in a surge of rage. "You wouldn't dare attempt such madness. You know this is not what she would have wanted!"

Gale pierced them all with a withering look. "She would have wanted to live." He got up to stand in front of the window. Halsin pursued him, reaching for the book. A wave flashed from Gale, sending Halsin clear across the room. Gale turned around, a dangerous calm settled on him.

"You can stand with me or you can stand against me." Gale snarled as he spat out the next words. "But do not mistake me. I am not asking permission. If you try to stop me I will kill you. And not a single force in the heavens or hells could shield you from my wrath."

The tower grew dark, wind snuffing out the candles that kept it lit. Astarion stared in disbelief as an uncomprehensible power seemed to eminate from Gale. The tower lock clicked and it seemed there would be no escape from what would happen next. Astarion heard Shadowheart whisper. "Dear gods."

[cannedbeefaroni]

Why Didn’t You Stop Me? (Edward Nashton x Reader) (Angst)

This is part 1/2. Part 2 heavily contains smut. Read part 2 here

Summary: (Y/N) takes on a villainous altar ego after a severe mental break that leads to murder. An old friend pays a visit after seeing what she’s been getting up to.

Content: VAGUE DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND MURDER, BREAKING AND ENTERING, VAGUE MENTION OF A SHARP WEAPON DRAWING BLOOD, VAGUE MENTION OF ABUSE/CHILD ABUSE, DEPRESSION, PARANOIA, SELF LOATHING, CODEPENDENCY, (Y/N) CRIES A LOT

(Y/N) is referred to as she/her

I look for a picture of you to

Keep in my pocket

But I can’t seem to find one

Where you look how I remember

How long has it been since (Y/N) was in love? She’d be lying if she said she couldn’t remember, but she preferred to not think about it too much. The last person she was with fell off the face of the earth one day and left her wondering what she did wrong. Yes, she wanted a new partner, but after everything that’s happened to her, she has more to think about. 

She killed a man. Plain and simple. 

If her childhood and adolescent trauma weren’t enough, now she had another reason to seek psychiatric help. No one knew she did it. She had no idea how she got that lucky, but she didn’t know whether to be relieved or ashamed. She felt bad, but did she regret what she did? No. Fucker had it coming. She couldn’t count how many times she had called CPS on him. They never did anything. He was beating the shit out of his wife and kids. Even when she reported him to her boss, they did nothing. She saw the beatings in real time. She stalked him for weeks. Hell, she even recorded it. But when she came forth with evidence, she was the one charged for recording his family without permission. This world was corrupt. She had to do something.

It wasn’t her fault she was there that night, throwing out a broken paper cutter machine; and there he was, walking through the pitch black alleyway. She had a massive blade. She didn’t know if there was a higher being, but she believed she was there for a reason. She had no choice. She had to slice his fucking head off. Sure, maybe dismembering the body, and arranging the body parts and organs into a well designed display for the bastard cops to see was too far. But maybe she was just elated, finally feeling like she was on earth for a reason. 

Ever since that night she decided she was done pretending to be like everyone else. She became cold and isolated to everyone she knew, and became a complete shut-in; except for when she’d go out at night. Finally being freed from her own mental shackles, she decided to finally pursue what she really loved: art. The idea of her being an artist was shot down so many times in her early life, she never even considered it in adulthood. But now, she could use it as a weapon. She’d go around rich neighborhoods and important figures' houses to destroy them. She’d graffiti, smash windows, throw rotten eggs, and do whatever vile things she could think of to their property. 

Tonight, she was on her way home from a night out. She wore a painter’s filtration mask to keep her identity hidden. She stumbled around, exhausted. She was a mess; physically and emotionally. All of her thoughts were assaulting her head, and she sat on the ground on the sidewalk to compose herself, if only a little. She pulled a spraypaint can out of her bag, staring at the label. She wondered how people managed to get high off aerosol containers. If she could figure out how to do it, maybe it would help her feel less shitty. After pulling her mask down, she instantly regretted her decision as she spray painted the inside of her nose; and possibly her trachea, windpipe, and lungs. So, she threw the can aside and decided to just curl up and sob. 

Suddenly, she heard the footsteps of an approaching figure, and jolted up. They sounded close, but when she turned around, she saw a figure directly behind her back. She froze in terror, as they appeared to be some kind of masked thug. In this city, those were a dime a dozen, but she had been really good so far at avoiding them. She stared for a moment before realizing her mask off, and this stranger had seen her entire face. She bolted as fast as she could down the street. No idea where to go, but she just had to run. Not bothering to even look behind, she ran into a subway and hopped on a random train that was about to depart. She sighed a breath of relief as she realized that person hadn’t followed her on. 

She spent the rest of the night on various trains, trying to find her way home. If that creepy person had been following her, they must have gotten sick of her spending all night going nowhere. When she finally got back to her apartment, she threw herself onto her couch, filthy and decrepit. She didn’t care what day or time it was, she just wanted to sleep forever. Maybe dream about a better life for a few hours. 

Days passed as she returned to her usual routine, which only consisted of going to work for nothing but a paycheck, and sleeping. She held off on the nights out for a bit after becoming increasingly paranoid. She wondered if maybe she should quit and pursue a normal life; maybe settle down and marry somebody so she won't have to be so alone. She thought back to her past relationships of disappointments, especially the last one before she gave up on love. Everything was going so well, but he just disappeared without saying a word. She thought maybe he died, and somehow his death wasn’t on record. But the conclusion she couldn’t help but arrive at was that he abandoned her. She’d rather die than ever have to experience that feeling ever again. 

Every time she left the house she got the uneasy feeling that someone was following her, but she chalked it up to her paranoia. She couldn’t help but think that masked thug from the other night was stalking her. She thought about it constantly, and wondered what they could possibly want with her. She worried they were somehow related to the guy she killed, and they’re now out to get her. Sitting in the break room at her job, she stared at the wood grain on the table, going through horrifying possible scenarios in her head. Everyone else in the room ignored her, watching the news on the television. Randomly, she looked up at the screen, wondering what was catching their interest.

News anchors were discussing some new criminal whose picture was on the left of the screen. It was all too familiar. The freaky green mask with glasses atop, and wide eyes with impossibly dilated pupils. He was the one who saw her. And he’s apparently a major threat to society. She couldn’t even pay attention to the broadcast as she lost her shit internally. 

Was this her punishment? Was she going to die?

Days passed of intense paranoia. Every step she took outside the house felt like a countdown to her demise. She could barely function at her job and almost completely lost her appetite. She couldn’t understand why she was so afraid to die. Maybe she’d rather have her own say in how she leaves the world. She beat herself up over not foreseeing this: being entangled with dangerous people. There was never a chance she could just discreetly become a criminal without ever having to pay a price. 

In the middle of the night, she laid on her bed over the covers, just to stare at the ceiling. Not much went through her head, only vague dark ideas. She was exhausted beyond belief, wishing she could just fall asleep for once and not lay awake for hours. She tried reading, drawing, even just scrolling mindlessly on her phone, but she couldn’t focus on anything. 

Suddenly, she heard fumbling outside her window. 

She laid, completely frozen in place. Her apartment window had a fire escape, and it sounded like someone was climbing it. She wanted to scream and cry, but her body remained dormant. As the sounds grew louder, she slowly dragged herself out of bed, checking if the window was locked. Figuring a window wouldn’t stop them, she creeped over to a cabinet to retrieve a large kitchen knife. It was dull from use, but she figured it could still work to some extent. 

She wondered if it were best to just leave her apartment, but before she could think about it she heard the window lock click.

A person was crawling inside, caught behind the curtains. She held the knife tightly as she held her breath, shaking violently. As he got mostly inside, she finally mustered up the courage to attack, running to the figure and plunging the knife against their back. Her stabbing was too weak, and it ended up only plunging through the coat and cutting along their skin, eliciting a deep,  guttural scream. She screamed as well, mortified at what they might have planned for her. She jumped backward, trying to get as far away as she could.

The figure stood up, holding their bleeding shoulder, hunched over. As (Y/N) suspected, it was the same masked thug from that night. They stared into her eyes with the same dilated pupils, making her wonder if they were high on something, or were just naturally that scary. She held her knife, waiting for their next move as they stood panting in pain.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH,” they yelled, voice muffled. 

“WHO ARE YOU? WHAT DO YOU WANT?” She screamed back, nearly shrieking as she tried to make herself scarier. 

“Trust me, you already know who I am,” they sneered. “I’m someone you forgot a LONG time ago. But don't worry, I’m certain you’ve heard of me now.” Their voice fluctuated between screaming and quiet jeering. They lifted themself up, towering over her. 

“Y-you’re some criminal from the news… I guess? A killer?” She engaged with him out of morbid curiosity, but she knew it was stupid to do. For some reason, there was something deep inside her wanting to know more about this person. 

“Playing dumb gets you nowhere, sweetie. Everyone’s heard of The Riddler by now…” 

“Uh… okay… w-was that what you called yourself?” she asked. She genuinely thought she never heard that name before. That news broadcast she saw once was a blur in her memory.

“I forgot how dumb you were…” he scoffed. “Another pretty face with no brain behind it. Typical.”

“W-why are you calling me pretty?” she understood him calling her dumb, but the pretty part confused her. She felt embarrassed getting flustered at the backhanded compliment. 

“Because, darling, ever since I saw you that night, I couldn’t help but wonder: what was a pretty girl doing out on the streets in the middle of the night, huffing paint?” He slowly paced closer to her, laughing.

Every part of (Y/N)’s head was telling her to run out of the apartment and get help, but for some reason she was captivated by his presence. Even though she knew this man was dangerous, him speaking the word ‘pretty’ rang through her ears and drove her insane. Besides that, she worried that making a run for it would only put her in more danger if he could catch her; so she ended up staying in place, allowing him to get ever so slightly closer.

“You’re not one to judge what I do.” she responded coldly. 

“It takes one to know one, sweetheart. I know you’re doing bad things. You can’t hide it from me. I’ve seen you smash windows, and paint beautiful murals of death and decay on those disgusting bourgeois mansions. You need to stop acting innocent.”

She couldn’t tell whether he was tearing her down or praising her. She hung on every positive word he used toward her, even though she felt incredibly patronized. 

“I’m not like you…” she chewed on her lip, face growing hotter from either anger or embarrassment. 

“I know you think you’re better than me. You look at me and feel grateful that you’re not as disgusting. You’re just as bad. You’re fucked up but you won’t even admit it. You’d rather play businesswoman all day and keep your dirty secrets in the shadows like a liar.” he circled around her, spitting out the words cruelly.

“I’m horrible…” her voice cracked, staring at the floor as tears pooled in her eyes.

“Oh great, now you admit it and feel sorry for yourself. It’s pathetic. You don’t even know you could have it so much worse. Why don’t you go run to your boyfriend and cry about how terrible you feel?”

“What…? I-I don’t even have a boyfriend!” she snapped, confused at where that even came from.

“Please, you could easily get one if you wanted. It doesn't matter,” he scoffed. 

“I’ve been trying for six years!” she screamed. A dead silence rang out. “I tried so hard… b-but ever since my last boyfriend just… disappeared… I can’t move on. I want him back… I want him back so bad. But it doesn’t matter if he came back, he’d never want me again... I’ve ruined myself. I’m a monster. No one will ever want me again!” She whined desperately and heaved. She dropped the knife to the floor and covered her face with her hands. 

“What did you do?” he spoke after moments of silence.

“I can’t say,” she rubbed her puffy eyes. 

“You’re becoming like me, aren’t you?” 

“No! I won’t, I can’t! I don’t wanna do it ever again!” she cried out. 

“I can tell you killed someone just by how you’re reacting, sweetheart.” 

“DON’T FUCKING CALL ME THAT,” she shrieked as she punched him across the face, knocking his glasses off his masked face.

He fell backwards, grabbing his nose as he groaned. Once he got up, he stared at her intensely for a few moments. She buried her face back into her hands and sobbed heavily.

“Hey, look at me,” he demanded. She picked her head up and wiped her eyes. He pulled off his mask and dropped it on the floor. She stared for a minute as tears ran down her face. 

“Eddie- Edward.” she croaked. “But… why?” 

“I could ask the same to you.”

“Oh, Eddie…” she approached him slowly, reaching her hand to his face as he stood motionless. Back when they were together, she always worried about him hurting himself; doing things that’d he regret. He was almost never happy, and his trauma got in the way of almost every aspect of his life. She thought back to all the times she wished she could’ve helped him, but she didn’t know how because she was also broken. “I wish I could’ve saved you… I'm sorry…”

Her shaky hand cupped his sweaty cheek as her thumb caressed his face. She wept as she stared into his cold eyes. 

“(Y/N)… you were my angel. I never loved anyone like I loved you. I thought you deserve someone better, that's why I left. But… look where we are now.” he spoke somberly, resting his face against her hand. “I never wanted you to sink to my level… I thought you would have moved on and had a family by now.” 

“I can’t…” she cried. “I tried but I just couldn’t love anyone else. You’re the one I want to be with. If I’m going to be a monster-” she choked on her sobs. She sniffed deeply and wiped her tears and snot. “I want to at least be a monster with you.” 

“Sweetheart… I’m not the same man you fell in love with…”

“Please, let me try to love you again. I missed you so much. I needed you.” she sobbed. 

Edward grabbed her arms firmly and pulled her close into a tight hug. It didn’t feel like it used to, between the layers of dirty clothes and thick gloves. Despite the smell and the roughness of his coat, she held onto him for dear life. She wailed into his shoulder as tears stained it. 

At this point, there was nothing to do. Neither of them had any idea of what would come of this. Even trying to imagine what the next day would look like was impossible. (Y/N) couldn’t help imagining leaving everything behind with Edward so they could finally live peaceful lives together. The thought only made her more sad. She hadn’t a clue what he even thought of her now. She didn’t even know how she felt about him anymore.

Part 2 (smut)

[princeblack]

It’s one of the worst days at work he’s had in awhile, causing him to actually contemplate quitting his job to move across the state to live with Sirius. But he doesn’t want to give up on school and he needs the money for housing, since he had to cut his parents off to pursue his dream. It hasn’t been easy, going from being spoiled in a mansion to living in a cramped one-bedroom that isn’t worth what he’s paying for it. But Regulus can handle the lifestyle change, struggling but still learning how to cook and do his own chores, juggling everything on top of classes and his job.

But what’s harder to deal with are some of his clients, like the older woman (she calls herself Tammy) who visits him for a private session every Friday. He tries to be professional and fake his way through it, swaying in her lap and allowing her to touch him for the extra hundred dollars. She isn’t allowed to touch his cock, but she’s given permission for her hands to roam elsewhere. Regulus hates it, but he’s good at convincing her otherwise. Maybe a little too good, because she causes some trouble when he ends the session for tonight, trying to touch on him and ask him to stay even when their time is up.

He takes a break after finally shaking her off, getting some water and contemplating his life decisions when his boss reminds him of the scheduled Bachelorette party tonight that starts in five. “You’re one of my only dancers who makes me any money, Black. So get out there before those girls come in.” She pats him on the back before walking off, leaving him there contemplating how he can possibly survive the rest of the night. Barely having time to refresh himself, he leaves the locker room again, moving back out into the club. 

He probably still looks good, but his red curls are disheveled and there’s light sweat on his body from how warm the building is. He’s been wearing the heavy jewelry for so long that he barely notices the weight of it anymore, hanging from his shoulders and neck. During his first week at the job, it was strange walking around in just a mens’ thong and jewelry, his body out on display for everyone, showing everything from his ass to his nipple piercings. But now it’s just his usual, Regulus not even batting an eye as he walks across the floor and eyes are drawn to him.

But then he feels someone touch his arm, causing him to turn, his blood running cold when he sees her face. It’s Tammy from earlier, who already has her wallet out as if that would appease him this time around. “Hey, you’re back– uh, I know I probably wasn't very clear earlier, but I’ll pay three hundred for another hour?” she asks, her voice as eager as her intense blue eyes.

“Can’t,” Regulus lies easily. “I’m reserved for a bachelorette party, which is starting any second now.” Truthfully, this woman is becoming addicted and should probably spend her money elsewhere instead of being a regular for a stripper half her age. But it’s not his place to judge, so usually he tries not to. That is, until the woman can’t take a hint and won’t stop putting her hands all over him even when he’s not giving her a dance.

“I’ll double whatever they’re paying you,” she offers stubbornly, smiling at him in a way that sends a chill down his spine. It’s as if she didn’t hear what he said, instead more concerned with the services he offered, as if he were some kind of machine.

“Not how this works– I’m already booked. Besides, I’m sure you have responsibilities. Go get some rest, okay?” It’s the ‘nicest’ way he could possibly tell her to get a life, but what else was he supposed to do? Let her think it was okay to continue harassing him like this after he already said no? “Have a good night, Tammy.” What he really wants to do is tell her to go to hell for touching him outside of the private room, as if she was in a hurry to get whatever she wanted from him with no regard for his boundaries.

But he doesn’t, because that would cost his boss a customer and a regular. Luckily something else catches his attention, his green eyes drawing away from the older client to look at the one approaching them. She’s the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, wearing a lacy black bra and a tiny cardigan, barely covering any of her skin. Her stomach is perfect, but so are all her curves, including the cleavage at the top of her chest. But most perfect of all is her pretty face with big blue eyes and full lips; the prettiest facial structure he’s ever seen on another person. He can’t help the way his eyes rake her body, even before she reaches them. She must be one of the girls from the bachelorette party, because he definitely would’ve noticed her if she were here earlier. / @ghstdoll

[damistrolls]

Ketzan and Nedizu mayhaps.. 🗣

several months too late, heres a ketzan and nedizu thing :)c

(go here for better readability)

—

First Lieutenant Nedizu Chiura was nothing if not observant. He saw the signs early on, and simply felt as though he were counting down the days before his captain vanished. 

Nedizu had initially thought about raising his concerns to a higher authority, but it was quite frankly a pointless endeavor. Whether he was removed from service and harshly punished, or left on his own accord, they would still be losing a captain. The details of these circumstances mattered very little to Nedizu, and thus, even as his superior waxed poetic about his dreams of taking to the high seas with nothing tethering him, he said nothing. Each time it came up, he would dismiss it, and bring up something more relevant to their current situation, such as scheduling concerns or fatality lists. 

But this time, Captain Adaire’s flowery words were followed up by a question that initially caught the lieutenant off-guard. 

“Would you come with me, if I asked?”

Nedizu hesitated visibly, pausing his writing and staring ahead with mild confusion as if gauging whether he had even heard the man correctly. 

“... Sir?”

“Barring all the complications regarding the Empire such a thing would imply, hypothetically, would you join me if I left the fleet?”

The captain’s question felt no less shocking even after he rephrased it. Nedizu thought he would have more tact than this, to ask a man with clear, hard-set loyalties whether or not he would go against what he believed in, and for what? To act upon someone else’s silly whim? It was just asinine. 

“There is no way to bar all relevant complications from such a suggestion,” Nedizu replied coolly, looking down at his clipboard again. 

“Hypothetical suggestion.”

“Right.” 

Does Captain Adaire really think calling it hypothetical would save him? If Nedizu brought something like this to Admiral Ripmaw, hypothetical or not, it would be the end of his career as a captain, and potentially even the end of his life. Nedizu had known the man to be frivolous, but his tactical prowess was what caused him to end up in such a high rank. Captain Adaire was not stupid. So then why was he asking something so blatantly treasonous to a man known to be loyal? 

Either his captain was more foolish than he originally believed, or he knew that Nedizu would do nothing to stop him, despite his beliefs. 

“So?” The captain urged. 

Ah. He really was awaiting an answer. Nedizu had thought his previous response would be enough to dissuade Captain Adaire from pursuing this line of questioning any further, but he apparently seems to want a direct reply. The lieutenant gives a light exhale, tapping the tip of his pen against his page. 

“... Permission to speak honestly, sir?” Not that Nedizu even need ask for permission. Insubordination was not something his whimsical captain tended to worry about, but at least one of them here had to acknowledge rank on occasion. 

“Granted,” Captain Adaire replied with a gracious wave of his hand and a toothy, yet ever-charming smile… A charm Nedizu was quite immune to. 

He tucked his clipboard under his arm and stood straighter, gaze cold and aloof as he stared ahead, looking past his captain. 

“I’m frankly appalled. Your suggestions of desertion from the fleet prove that you are weak and unfit for the position of captain, echoing a belief I’ve long had about you, and if you continue on this line of thinking, it will rightly cost you everything,” Nedizu explained, voice filled with a cold, robotic indifference. The weeks of listening to his captain fantasize about a life serving no one but himself have not done anything to move him. 

Out of the corner of his eyes, Nedizu could see his captain straighten up too, the man’s smile slowly fading away as a realization finally dawned on him. He did not have the sort of relationship with his lieutenant that he originally thought. 

Despite everything, the Empire came first, and they definitively were not friends. It baffles Nedizu that it’s taken his captain this long to figure that out. 

“If it is found that these are not just hypotheticals, but actual plans,” Nedizu continued on, “it will be taken as a treasonous action that, at Admiral Goraxe Ripmaw’s discretion, could call for reeducation or even the termination of your life. It is my responsibility to alert the relevant authorities on this potential rebellious activity, but as your first lieutenant, I am willing to overlook it just this once, if you rescind your previous ‘hypotheticals’ in lieu of something more appropriate for a troll of your rank and standing.” 

That was the only grace he was willing to grant the man, and it was already too generous. But the look on Captain Adaire’s face made it obvious that he wasn’t grateful. Not in the slightest. 

Silence hung over them for several seconds, as Nedizu awaited his captain’s response. 

“... You are dismissed, Lieutenant.” 

Funny. This might be the only time he sounds like a captain. 

“Yes sir.” 

... Expectedly, that was the last time Nedizu had ever heard from the man. The Deserter had slipped out later that day, with a brand new title.

[bnuuywol]

A quick Azemet ficlet based off this:

Enjoy 🥰❤️

Prometheus had always been one for being rather rebellious when it came to not matching his clothing to the rest, but Emet-Selch had expected him to take it all a bit more seriously once he took the seat of Azem. And he certainly didn't expect to walk in on him entirely without a shirt.

"Enter." Azem had said so nonchalantly, as if he weren't half-clothed with his skin slick with sweat.

Emet-Selch tries to ignore this, walking briskly into the room and avoiding his gaze. "This is entirely inappropriate behavior, you know." He remarks, making the mistake of looking at him and finding he cannot tear his eyes away from his body. Azem snickers, a sly smirk pulling at his lips.

"You're staring, Hades." He straightens up from his place near the table organizing papers, studying Emet-Selch's composure. Emet-Selch's face turns red, looking away quickly.

"What? No, I'm not."

"Hm." Azem approaches him steadily until he's so close he has Emet-Selch pinned against the wall. He cages him there by bringing his arm up next to his head on one side, and his knee up against the wall on the other. "Are you sure about that?"

"Azem." Emet-Selch protests, his heart beating out of his chest. A whirlwind of conflicting emotions hit him all at once. The fear of being caught in this position by another walking in, the desire stirred by having him pressed against him like this... he cannot pretend he's not thought about it before. Azem can read it all over his face, his ruby red eyes piercing with intensity as he holds eye contact. He leans in closer.

"Come now. Don't you think we're past titles?" He remarks with a chuckle.

"I—" Emet-Selch swallows thickly, trying to ignore how his body is reacting. "Prometheus, this is neither the time nor place."

"Hades, Hades, Hades..." Azem muses, loving the feeling of his name on his tongue. "What do I have to do to you to get you to relax for once?" His fingers curl around his chin. "Touch you?" He brushes their lips together. "Kiss you?" He moves his mouth around to his ear. "Fuck you?"

Azem can feel the heat radiating off of Emet-Selch's face, as well as the semi-hard length pressed against his thigh. A smirk pulls at his lips. How many times has he imagined doing this to him? He'd long since gained permission from Hythlodaeus to pursue Emet-Selch, but he decided to be patient, bide his time. The last thing he wants is to overwhelm him. But today, he practiced just a little indulgence. After all, Emet-Selch is the one who couldn't stop staring at his body.

"Theus—" Emet-Selch breathes, unable to find the words. Even before they both took up seats on the Convocation, he's felt those deeper feelings growing for Azem. But given how much he also infuriates him to no end, he's been pushing them aside. These words, however? These words he cannot ignore. They leave him flustered and helpless.

Azem chuckles and sighs dreamily, pulling away and releasing him from his cage against the wall. "I suppose you're right. Not the right place. I'll have to take you back to mine once our business is concluded. Unless you've other obligations to attend to?" Azem casually returns to his pile of paperwork, not acknowledging the hard outline in clear view beneath his trousers, but knowing full well it's the precise spot Emet-Selch's eyes are drawn. "Hades? My eyes are up here, darling."

"Right. Yes. I'm well aware, thank you." Emet-Selch huffs, crossing his arms and looking away from him entirely. "I'll come, on the condition that you make yourself presentable this instant."

Azem scoffs. "If that's what I must do to get the esteemed Emet-Selch in my bedroom, then so be it." He teases, watching him blush once more when he'd gotten so close to finally regaining his composure. With a snap of his fingers, Azem dons his normal attire. Still no proper robe, much to Emet-Selch's dismay, but at least his mask sits upon his chest, ready to return to his face upon their exit from Elpis. "Now. Where were we?"

[casspurrjoybell-21]

Pirate Chains - Volume 2 - Against Tides

*Warning Adult Content*

Chapter 6 - Pirates Compromise - Part 2

Nyx

"There's something you should know learn about being a pirate. It's called compromise."

A part of me wanted to panic and keep him from turning his back to me but I trusted his smile and remained still, watching his body slide elegantly under the water, his legs paddling a little then stopped when he reached the waterfall.

He rose, facing the cascading water and somehow time seemed to sand still.

I felt hypnotized as my eyes wandered over his wide shoulders.

I gazed at his muscles that tensed and relaxed under his skin.

He ran a hand to push back his silky black hair, making a few soaked strands hug his upper arm and the glittering water made it's way back into the lake.

He was so handsome and enchanting and the more I observed him, the more I realized how much he fit perfectly into the raw nature that surrounded us.

He turned slightly to the right and his arm stretches out in front of him, towards me.

I looked into his confident, piecing eyes and then at his hand that he held out to me.

As soon as I did, he received me with a warm smile.

He pulled me closer then lifted his left arm under the waterfall.

The cascading water that met is arm split, inviting us in like drapes of a curtain.

He put his free hand on my back, guiding me further.

I swam forward, crossing behind the waterfall and lifting my head to watch it flow right above my head.

Agenor followed behind me, causing the water drapes to close and trap us both in the small space behind it and a smooth wall formed by a pile of dark, grey rocks.

I swam around on the spot looking around me, despite the small droplets of water, that often escaped the waterfall and landed between us.

I looked in awe at the trees, the sky and the sun, as they revealed themselves differently behind a wall of a small glittering blur.

Agenor hugged me from behind.

"So... do you like it in here?"

"I never though someone could look from behind a waterfall. It's amazing."

"Aye. It is."

"How did you find this place?"

He chuckled and leant closer to my ear and whispered in my ear...

"We found it, Nyx. This is our safe place. Is it private enough for you?"

He didn't wait for an answer.

He found his water to my neck and started sucking and tickling the sensitive skin with his tongue.

His right hand slip up my left side and his middle finger rubbed against my nipple.

I flinched forward and he held me stronger in his arms, one arm around my waist, the other around my chest, pulling me and making me straighten my back once more.

His fingers started working on my nipples, pinching and squeezing them, then rubbing them with enough pressure to numb the pain.

His head moved to the other side of my neck, determined to leave marks all over it.

My hand held his head and the other reached down to caress his thigh.

I could feel his hands and his mouth grope and suck me harder by the second making me feel hotter despite the cool water that surrounded us.

I tilted my head and was able to place a kiss on his forehead.

Feeling my eagerness, his eyes rose to mine and the lust in them made my groin ache.

His hand pinched my nipple and I groaned in pleasure but that didn't stop my lips from pursuing from his as soon as the surge of pleasure was bearable.

Our mouths touched and a tingle of playfulness danced in his eyes, to make him pull back to send me one of his cocky smiles.

I didn't care, I wanted to kiss the bastard so bad.

My hand reached back to cup his neck and coerce him into meeting my stray lips.

He kept on gazing at them, allowing his lips to bush and lick them slightly, only to pull back a second later... touching and then parting... purposely tormenting me and creating a enticing trance.

Impatient with his games, I paddled my legs in the water to rise a few inches more and finally get what I wanted to claim.

Our mouths sealed and our tongues didn't ask permission to meet and dance.

I gladly took control kissing and nipping at his lips.

I enjoyed his docility for the moment until his kiss became wilder and he started to claim every bit of mine.

We fought for control, both smiling and enjoying tour excitement.

I bit and sucked his lower lip making him release a groan.

My smile grew wider and I gave him a victories look without leaving his lips.

My triumph was interrupted though when his left hand groped my member through my pants.

I was already hard to begin with and when his hand caressed my length possessively, I flinched as the fire rose up my spine.

He chuckled and nibbled my ear, whispering ito it...

"What's wrong, Nyx? You look like you need something. Can I maybe help?"

Nyx: 'When was he so fucking polite?'

"Stop."

"Are you sure about that?"

He rubbed me harder and I held his arm, unable to push him away and risk the arousing feeling of his large hand rubbing against my arousal.

I was breathing hard and moaning loudly.

"Agenor..."

His palm gave my groan a strong squeeze then it slipped further inside.

His thigh parted my legs and his middle finger rubbed between my ass-cheeks until he found my entrance.

His finger pushed harder against the fabric making my member twitch with pleasure.

I squirmed and moaned louder but Agenor held me tighter to keep me still and his finger forced it's way into me, taking the fabric inside my ass.

His finger moved inside me, looking to dive deeper and making me unable to keep control any longer.

My orgasm ripped through me as my back ached and and I released my load.

[forensicated]

04x21 - Trouble And Strife

A group of young children watch as Malcolm and Pete tend to a beaten wife, Joanna Mancini who is sat on the wall outside her house. She tells them she's separated from her husband but he's inside the house with a motorbike chain. Pete says they can arrest him for ABH but she will have to go to court if he pleads not guilty. After some hesitation she nods, agreeing that she'll see it through.

Pete and Malcolm knock on the door and shout for the husband to let them in. A neighbour tells Malcolm that she always has trouble with her husband and that she's a martyr to him and doesn't look after her kids. Joanna becomes defensive and tells Malcolm repeatedly to make her go away. She ends up threatening to give the neighbour a black eye and reveals that she's also pregnant. One of her children, Wayne, tells the neighbour to 'put a sock in it'.

Pete goes round the back to try and get in and Malcolm offers to break a window to gain access when she repeats that she wants her husband locked up. She refuses as 'her boys will be back in a minute' She looks around for Wayne who has disappeared and shouts his name a couple of times. She then sees the car and gets an idea, shouting for her husband. If he doesn't let her in, she'll trash his car. Pete returns having not been able to get in just as Joanna locks herself in the car and shouts that she'll destroy it.

The husband, played by Brian Capron, finally appears through the upstairs window. He threatens to drop Joanna's sewing machine if she doesn't get out of his car. She then threatens to smash his face if he does. They continue to argue before she speeds off - almost running the two officers over - though she stops just before the wall. She reverses back to the house to see if her husband has changed his mind. When he hasn't, she drives into a nearby wall. The husband shouts threats to kill her and then drops her sewing machine from the window. Joanna walks slowly back towards the house where Mr Mancini is throwing more things from the bedroom. Pete offers to break in and stop him and this time she agrees.

Once inside, Pete shouts for Mr Mancini as Malcolm looks around the house. "Do you reckon he's still got that bike chain....?" They head upstairs and Mancini is heard in another room. They ask him to come out quietly and find the window open, thinking he's done a runner. They search the area and can't find him so return to Joanna. It's a rare exchange of opinions for these two. Malcolm thinks they're as bad as each other and that the Mancini's feed off drama, but Pete feels sorry for Joanna and hates wife batterers.

As they have a cup of tea, the boys hear the door go. Thankfully it's just Wayne returning. Joanna makes him a drink and suggests he go watch Spurs in the next room. Pete takes offense when Wayne calls them a bunch of hairdressers. "Oi, my cousin plays for that team!" "My dad told me not to talk to policemen." "Not a lawyer is he?"

I'm pondering what she means by 'a couple of hours' - sex chat line or actual escort work? Either way, I love how both boys react 🤣🤣🤣)

Joanna starts to cry and Pete nopes out of it, going to see what the football score is. Joanna repeats that her husband will kill her and asks for police protection. Malcolm has to tell her that she's going to be arrested for criminal damage to the wall. She can't believe it and thinks Mancini should be the one arrested. Pete explains that her husband will likely press damages against her for criminal damage to his car if she pursues an ABH charge against him. Wayne keeps calling for her attention and she tells him to shut up and he snaps the same back at her.

Pete goes upstairs with Wayne to get his coat and notices fingerprints on the loft hatch. Mancini is inside which explains how he vanished. Pete tries to speak to him but Mancini is stood on the loft hatch so Pete goes down to get the saw he spotted to cut his way into the loft once Joanna gives him permission. "Right Mr Mancini, I'm coming up!" Once Pete tries to cut his way inside he finds that the loft hatch now opens freely. He shines the torch around, calling for Mancini. Joanna shouts his name and says she's going to get a knife and will kill him. Pete pushes her into the kitchen and tells her to stay.

Malcolm doesn't want to stick his head through the gap because it could be a booby trap. Pete shrugs, saying he doesn't want to still be there tomorrow and Mancini won't be talked down. He then admits he doesn't fancy it either and sarcastically suggests getting Cryer to come and offer Mancini a cup of tea. Both are unnerved by the silence from Mancini but Pete climbs the stairs again and shines his torch around. "I'm not going to hurt you so don't do anything nasty. I'm just coming up for a little chat." He reminds him to keep calm so they can sort things out properly. The loft is dark and Mancini remains silent. Pete looks around it with his torch and shouts to Malcolm that he's not there. As he starts to leave, Mancini leaps on him and they burst through the ceiling with Mancini throttling him! Malcolm quickly gets the chain from Pete's neck and eases him down but Mancini falls on top of them.

The boys manage to grab him and arrest him but Joanna starts assaulting them for arresting him! Malcolm manages to get her away and Mancini threatens them for touching Joanna. Pete deals with him in a way that Burnside would be proud of.

In the bedroom Joanna um... mixes...Malcolm's sleeves with the kitchen mixer and Wayne is holding a toasting fork. Pete playfully admonishes Malcolm for not having sorted Joanna yet because 'she's just a woman' and he gets distracted by a goal attempt on the TV. It becomes a corner and... yeah. He's not helpful.

I can't do this scene justice in words, you really need to watch the following video.

The thing I want most in the world now is to see Smithy and Callum redo this scene because you KNOW Smithy would make Callum wait until he turned the power off when West Ham was playing.

The boys arrest both of the Mancini's and Joanna asks Malcolm to call an ambulance because she thinks her waters are going to break. Malcolm doesn't believe a second of it as he leads her out... just as the Mancini boys turn up and ask "What are you doing with my mum?"

[livingrief]

permission to love you

Morning filtered through the blinds in a stretch of gold, illuminating a slumbering goddess. Finn’s eyes flickered open. That’s right. Lachesis had been staying over for the past few nights. Nothing had transpired between the two of them - merely the sharing of a bed and a room. Still, Finn didn’t see it in himself to tell her his feelings. It still felt surreal that she was here. A hand reached out to touch, to test if the woman next to him was in fact, tangible.

Oh. 

Lids opened and Lachesis was staring back at him as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Instantly, he pulled back his hand. 

But Lachesis seemed to have other things on mind, for she scooted over the distance in between them, settling herself right next to him. He could merely reach out; she was right there and incredibly warm. 

“Finn.”

“Mm?”

“You still haven’t really told me how you feel.”

Instantly, the knight stiffened up. Anything, literally anything other than talking about his feelings would be preferable. Perhaps Lachesis could sense it.

The Nordion reached her hand down to cup his cheek. It was a surprisingly tender gesture. Finn still had to remind himself that she had said she loved him. But it was hard to swallow. Her fingers, though calloused, were warm.

“Finn, I don’t know what you’ve been through while I’ve been gone….but I know you’ve always been hard on yourself. Please, if anything, just be honest with me.” She pauses, and Finn wonders what is going through her mind. “I want to be your wife but I refuse to be a charity case or a source of pity. If you don’t want me, then properly reject me.”

Before he can reply, the hand is retracted. Finn is stunned, dazed in the light of her frustration, but he know he can’t afford it. Time is short. 

Instead, he sits up. “Lachesis, you were never a charity case.” Why can’t she understand? Why does he have to spell it out? “When you disappeared, I grieved for so long. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

Lachesis sits up to meet his gaze. She is unrelenting, will pursue his perplexing statements to the end. “But I’m right here, Finn. I’m right here. Don’t you see that?” She takes his hand in her own, rubbing the back with her thumb. 

Dark blue eyes rise to see her. It is indeed Lachesis, but….

“But how can I be allowed to love you?” he asks, as if it should be so clear. “It is my fault you disappeared. All of this is my fault. I don’t deserve you.”

There. He dropped the ball. Surely, she will leave after that and these warm few days will leave like a hazy dream that happened years ago.

But when he looks up, Lachesis has tears in her eyes. Drats, he’s done it again. Always making her cry. This is why he’s so horrible. She pulls his hand to her face. It’s such a gentle gesture that he’s startled; he’s expecting the opposite.

“Finn,” she starts, “how many times do I have to say not to blame yourself? What happened that day is not your fault alone. I made decisions as well…..”

“Please don’t say you don’t deserve me. You’re my husband and I want you.”

“Lachesis….”

Her hand finally lowers, but she holds his nonetheless. It seems all I do is make her cry.

Finn swallows. No one has so openly asked for him since they first wed. Still, Lachesis is here. She’s right there.

“....am I allowed to love you?” he asks, voice shaking just the slightest bit.

“Yes. Never question it.”

He pulls the lioness into his arms more tightly than he can manage. Lachesis. Lachesis. Lachesis. Is he allowed to? Breath hitches as their faces part for the slightest. Lips find each other of their own volition and crush against each other. With every breath, every touch, every taste, Finn finds Lachesis again. Lachesis. And she comes back for him, wrapping her arms around him as well and meeting him with just as much heated desperation as he needs. Hands thread through her golden hair, oh, how painful it is how beautiful she is, but now she’s his once more and his mouth does not need to stop.

“Lachesis,” he continues to say against her ear in shallow breath, in between kisses and worshipping her, her name a prayer in the morn.