#... like come the fuck on and she tells me to check my fact sources and her source is the israel propaganda machine

[asexuallucanisdellamorte]

my mums brain has well and truly been rotted by gb news and facebook and twitter and she refuses to listen anytime I try and talk to her about how she's very wrong and calling yourself far-right is a bad thing so she's gone and called me anti semitic for all of this she's literally just throwing words around without knowing what it means

[egcdeath]

sealing the deal

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: you and patrick make a few unique business proposals to each other.

word count: 7k

warnings: succession au – tomshiv dynamic (pre-failmarriage), proposals (business and romantic), fluff, a little angst, mentions of a dad being very sick/almost dying, lots of exposition/background on the relationship, art cameo, a little domesticity, established relationship

author’s note: you don’t have to know anything about succession to enjoy this fic! i’ll explain everything that you need to know. if you’re a diehard succession fan i can’t promise that everything will be completely faithful to the source material but it definitely takes a lot of inspiration from tom and shiv’s dynamic.

i wanted to give a HUGE thank you to my succession anon who gave me so much help and guidance for this fic and basically ended up being my co-author for this fic! i hope you all enjoy :)

It wasn’t always easy loving the youngest son of the owner of a multi-billion dollar media conglomerate. 

In fact, most of the time, it was quite the opposite. 

Even without Patrick working in his family’s business, it always felt a little bit like you were in a competition for brain space and time with his family and career, and you were losing. Badly. 

You weren’t exactly sure that you knew what you signed up for when you first met Patrick—connected to each other by a mutual friend you went to business school with, whom you’d begged to try to set you two up for career advancement purposes more than anything else. 

“You know that guy you keep asking me about?” your friend asked you after taking a hefty sip from the drink the bartender just passed her. 

“Patrick Zweig?” you asked, not bothering to pretend like you didn’t know who she was talking about. 

“Yeah!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world. You weren’t sure where she was going with this subject, but you were intrigued by her mention of the man and her apparent entertainment at the situation. 

“What about him?” you asked, perversely curious as to why she was bringing him up now. 

“I invited him to come out with us tonight!” she laughed once more as she divulged this information, as if it wasn’t shocking news to you.  

“What? What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me before!” you practically yelled at her over the sound of loud music and other bar patrons. You suddenly felt very self conscious. If you’d known you were going to meet Patrick Zweig tonight, you would’ve put yourself together, rather than coming straight from work to the bar. 

“I wanted to surprise you!” she continued with her giggling at a situation that you did not find nearly as humorous. “Oh my god. I wish you could see your face right now.”

“I hate you!” you laughed, thinking that maybe this was some sort of prank. “You’re joking, then?”

“No, he’s really coming. He just got back from D.C. and wanted to meet with me. I asked if my hot friend could come along and he was like, ‘Obviously!’”

You groaned aloud. This wasn’t how you intended to make your first impression on him.

“Okay, well, what’s his type?” you asked her, hoping to get a bit of insight before you were launched right into what might end up being your first date. You were sure that you would make a good impression if you showed up as you were, but you wanted to be better than good. You didn’t want to be just another forgettable notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t know,” she sighed, taking a sip from her drink. “Hot? A nice ass? A little mean? Isn’t that every guy’s type?”

“You’re not taking this seriously enough for me,” you replied. You wanted to have a strategy going into this. You would’ve appreciated at least a small briefing before meeting someone so intimidating. 

“I am, you just check all the boxes already. Just be yourself and I’m sure things will work out fine,” she assured you. 

Her assurance was well warranted, considering that things worked out far better than fine. In fact, your friend was overdue for a fruit basket—one that you would be paying for with Patrick’s credit card as you sat in the dining room of your shared penthouse apartment, after you wrapped up a day of work in the skyscraper that was his father’s corporate headquarters. 

At the time, you had a slight idea of who he was, but you had an even better idea of who his family was. Anyone who owned a television would be familiar with his family’s corporation—from the causal channel surfers who passed one of their many news channels during their search for the newest episode of The Bachelor, to the thousands of people with their logo burned into their device screen from the hours they spent with their eyes locked on the 24-hour stream of borderline propaganda. 

Beyond his impressive family, you’d heard whispers and rumors about Patrick for a long time. Between headlines in gossip magazines and stories from your mutual friend, you learned that he’d entered the political world as an attempt to make a name for himself outside of his family name, but struggled to be taken seriously for many years due to the less than stellar reputation that came with being a Zweig.

Although, rumors about his career were just the tip of the iceberg. Gossip about his tumultuous relationships—if they could even be called that—and history of partying far too hard often ran wild, making you believe that your initial meetings with Patrick would be nothing more than a few hookups and sweet talking yourself into a new job. After all, there was no better pillow talk than an elevator pitch. 

At first, your plan seemed like it was right on track. You ended your first night together in the early morning, finding yourself in Patrick’s apartment for hours. Your night hadn’t really ever ended, with the two of you leaving the bar together, having some of the best sex of your life in a bed that felt a little bit like laying on a cloud, then proceeding to talk for hours until it was time for you to go back to work. You smiled to yourself as you sat in the backseat of Patrick’s car, exhausted from the long night and a little uncomfortable in yesterday’s clothes, but mostly enthusiastic after your surprisingly eventful night with the man. 

It was a strange turn of events from what you initially expected. While you couldn’t be too sure what you were getting yourself into when you learned you were being set up on a date, you assumed that Patrick would be like any other rich asshole you’d gone out on dates with, who got what they wanted from you, sent you off on your merry way, then never spoke to you again. You quickly discovered that he was unlike anyone you’d ever been with before. 

Patrick seemed to be full of surprises, and the fact that you were going on multiple dates with him in the first place was one of those very surprises. You hadn’t expected to go on any more than three dates before you asked about working for his family, securing yourself a job, then leaving him alone. 

What took you by even greater surprise were the dates themselves. What started as an intimate dinner in one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city ended with you at a terrible 24-hour diner, treating Patrick to his first slice of cherry pie as you talked into the wee hours of the morning. 

Your subsequent dates went similarly, with the two of you talking endlessly about anything and everything. Patrick was someone full of surprises—he was far from the rich asshole you expected him to be, and more like a knowledgeable politics nerd with a lot of money. 

You talked for hours about big things, like why Patrick decided to pursue a career as a political strategist and what brought you to New York City, but you also found it easy to discuss small random things with him, spending an extended period of time discussing how you named your cat, and debating on the best restaurant in the city. 

You always thought of yourself as being somewhat agreeable and friendly when it came to conversation, but your discussions with Patrick took you by surprise. You weren’t sure you’d ever clicked with someone the way you clicked with him, and it made you as excited as it made you nervous. 

By the time you worked up the nerve to ask Patrick about working for his family, you were already beat to the punch. The two of you were tucked into the booth that you’d recently declared as yours in the same diner that you seemed to be spending all of your all-nighters in, reclining comfortably in the particularly uncomfortable seats. 

“Do you like the business side of things?” Patrick asked you, stirring a flattening Diet Coke with a straw. 

“It’s fun,” you dismissed. “It’s less fun going to work on a half-hour of sleep.”

“Shut up. You love it,” the man across from you laughed, an admittedly very handsome half-smile on his face. “I mean it though. Do you like what you’re doing?”

“It pays the bills, I guess. I like the work, but I’m not huge on the company. All the politics and the instability with layoffs lately… It isn’t exactly ideal.”

“Would you ever work for my family?” he asked. “I mean, you’re just wasting potential elsewhere. I really think they could use someone like you on their team.”

“Seriously?” you asked, partially surprised at the proposition, but mostly surprised that you weren’t the one to ask in the first place. Across the table, Patrick listened to you intently. “I mean, If they’d have me, I’d love to work for them.”

“My dad mentioned something about them looking for some new blood. I can put in a good word for you, if that sounds interesting to you.”

“Is this because I showed you the joys of a slice of diner cherry pie?” you joked, trying not to let on just how overjoyed you were about this opportunity. 

“You got me. And now that you mention it, we should probably order another slice,” he suggested, going along with your joke. “You’re smart and you clearly know your shit. Besides, I’m mostly doing it for myself. It’ll be nice to have someone around at company Christmas parties who can actually keep up with me.”

“Well, thank you,” you replied calmly, though you were doing somersaults in your mind. “I look forward to drinking eggnog and singing Mariah Carey songs with you.”

In retrospect, you recognized this action as the first of his many wordless declarations of love. You later learned that Patrick did everything he could to avoid talking business with his family, as it was clearly a sore spot for everyone involved. Realizing that he’d gone out of his way to get you a job had been an even more kind gesture than you knew at the time. 

While you initially expected your fling to taper off after Patrick fulfilled his end of the business deal he didn’t even know he was facilitating, your relationship did nothing of the sort. In fact, his favor seemed to have the opposite effect on your bond. 

Before you knew it, the two of you were courting each other like lovesick Jane Austen protagonists. In another shocking turn of events, Patrick ordered flowers to your doorstep each morning and took you on lavish dates, while you began to take four-hour long train rides to and from D.C. each weekend to visit him, and frequently sent him rambling love letters. 

While you hadn’t expected for your relationship to unfold the way that it did, you genuinely loved Patrick. You loved the way his eyes crinkled when you told him something stupid that he’d laugh at, or how he leaned in to whisper something judgmental in your ear about someone you mutually disliked during family events. You loved the way his hand felt in yours and the way his mind worked, which he frequently displayed to you while discussing his latest political strategy. You even loved when he minced words to describe how he felt about you, knowing that though the word ‘love’ might never leave his lips, his actions spoke far louder than his voice ever could. 

It just so happened that you loved his proximity to power, too. 

While his money and power might have piqued your interest initially, it didn’t change the fact that the two of you quickly clicked. You had a natural chemistry, with you matching Patrick’s flirty words and actions with ease. It also just so happened that you entered each other's lives at the perfect time, with you in dire need of a career upgrade, and Patrick in need of someone unafraid to show him more affection and care than he was willing to give. 

Though he wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, you quickly became a tenured professor in Patrick-ology. You were certain that this played a role in why Patrick liked you so much in the first place—being somewhat emotionally stunted, he needed someone who could understand his thoughts without him having to explicitly say every detail, and you did exactly that. 

This skill worked out surprisingly well for you. You gave him the love and understanding that he’d been looking for and missing for all of his adult life, and you got to reap the benefits that came with being in a relationship with someone in one of the most powerful families in the world. 

Despite your more humble beginnings, you quickly became familiar with luxurious items and activities. You also quickly learned that no matter how prepared you thought you were for that level of wealth—you weren’t. You couldn’t even begin to count the amount of times your unfamiliarity with certain norms left you as the laughing stock of the family. 

But it wasn’t all corner offices in skyscrapers and helicopter rides. During the honeymoon phase of your relationship, it certainly felt like it, but the cracks in your foundation became more and more evident every day. 

The thing was, as much as you two cared about each other, there was a family shaped shadow that loomed over everything that you did. It was clear that you were an outsider in Patrick’s family. Coming from an upper-middle class Midwestern background, you were often made to feel like you were a stupid gold-digger, only staying around your boyfriend for power, rather than love. At times, you wondered if his family knew what love was at all. 

The love, or lack thereof in Patrick’s family was what shocked you most of all. It was no secret that his father was unnecessarily cruel to all of his children, but particularly to his siblings trying to work their way into more serious positions in the company. Patrick somehow managed to dodge that particular flavor of cruelty, with him very obviously being his father’s favorite and working outside of the family business, but the emotional scars his father left still lingered. 

But his father’s presence didn’t just loom over him, it was beginning to loom over you, too. Not only in the extreme intimidation you felt when having to interact with him, but in the small acts of callousness Patrick showed you throughout the course of your relationship. 

It began as small things, things that bothered you less the more you got used to them. Like how he always seemed to unconsciously belittle your work, not even bothering to seem interested in the recaps you gave of your day before he launched into a story of his own about the candidate he was working with. Though you tried your hardest to fight through your smaller pet peeves with him, Patrick’s inability to be straightforward about his emotions felt like the cherry on top of an already painful sundae.

Regardless of all of the flaws, bumps, and roadblocks in your relationship, you promised to yourself that you would be in Patrick’s corner, no matter how ugly things got or how poorly he treated you. Not only out of your own self-interest, but out of your love for the man, and the knowledge of how difficult his upbringing made certain things for him. 

Which was why when you got the call from Patrick that something had gone terribly wrong with his father while coming back from his birthday celebration, you didn’t hesitate to rush to the hospital, encouraging your driver to speed all the way to the building. 

When you arrived, he and his siblings were in disarray in a way you’d never seen before. His father, who was typically a presence that towered over everyone in the room, was reduced to an old man hooked up to a number of machines. His older sisters, who were always either waiting for the moment to swoop in and make a crude joke or waiting in the wings to discuss the next business strategy, paced back and forth endlessly, clearly feeling the pressure of their sick father.

Patrick sat alone on an uncomfortable chair, peering helplessly into the observation room. It was rare for you to see him with his feelings written so openly across his face, even after years of being in a relationship with him. That concerned you.

You made quick work of walking over to Patrick, whose tensed-up shoulders slightly dropped as you took a seat next to him. Though he wouldn’t ever tell you this, you knew that your presence made him feel more supported and a little more safe, though you being or not being in the hospital clearly wouldn’t have an impact on if his father lived or died. 

“Hey,” he greeted you, immediately squeezing your hand. “Thanks for coming,” he said weakly, as if he was fighting off a new round of tears. In that moment, you so desperately wanted to take some of his emotions for yourself, knowing that Patrick hated feeling any feeling, let alone such negative feelings to such a serious degree. 

“Of course, honey,” you reassured him, running what you hoped would be a grounding hand up and down his arm. “Is there anything I can get you? Coffee? Water? A snack? I saw that burger place you like on my way over.”

“No, nothing right now,” he sighed. You inspected him cautiously, knowing that he wasn’t exactly one to always say what he meant. “Really,” he assured you, though you didn’t completely buy it. 

Since he wasn’t in the mood for more material items, you decided that the best course of action was a little affection. He wasn’t always the biggest fan of receiving affection in front of his family, but you figured that in a time where he was uncertain if his father would live or die, he would appreciate a little outward support. 

You laid your head on his shoulder and angled your body closer to his. Not expecting any response, you were surprised when Patrick kissed the top of your head. “I’m glad you’re here,” he told you quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he’d be in trouble if someone overheard him. 

You held his hand as the two of you sat for hours, only getting up to stretch your legs or take phone calls from friends with insight on other high-end medical facilities that might be able to better accommodate Patrick’s father. 

You did your best to give Patrick his space when he needed it, as he floated between two of his siblings—one of which was focused mainly on the future of the company, and the other in a state of denial about the state of her father—then back to you when he could no longer stand the chaos of his sisters. 

It was a stressful scene, and one that was clearly too much for your boyfriend, who went back and forth between wanting to be glued at your hip, and wanting to be left completely alone. You’d seen Patrick stressed in the past, with him chatting your ear off as he waited for his candidate’s election results, or as he prepared to give a speech at an event, but you’d never seen him like this. 

He almost seemed fragile, like one wrong word or action might break him. It frightened you to see him in such a state. Again, you lamented not being able to take some of his pain for yourself. 

In the time that you waited without any word from any doctors, a few gears began to turn in your mind. Life was so fleeting, which was proven by Patrick’s mighty father falling so seemingly easily. Really, it could’ve been any of you sitting on that table with tubes and monitors attached to you. If it were Patrick who was sitting on that gurney, you would be an absolute wreck. If he somehow died, you also wouldn’t technically be a widow, despite your long-term relationship with the man. 

All of it made you wonder if you should just bite the bullet and propose to Patrick.

Sure, it wasn’t the best timing ever. Sure, you’d always imagined yourself being on the receiving end of a grand proposal, especially from someone like Patrick. But maybe he would appreciate the gesture—giving him a distraction to take away some of his pain, and giving him one final grand milestone with you while his dad was still alive. 

To a lesser extent, being married would provide you with certain protections you didn’t have while you were only his long-term girlfriend. Obviously, you didn’t want to think of anything bad happening to your boyfriend, but accidents and tragedies could happen at any point, and it was better to be prepared than to be sorry. 

It felt right that you might be able to join his family during a time where he was losing a family member. Not only for his sake, but because losing their patriarch meant unprecedented instability in his family. You wanted to be sure of your spot amongst them, after you’d grown used to the privileges that came with being Patrick’s girlfriend. 

You fidgeted with the ring on your middle finger, a family heirloom passed from generation to generation onto you. It was no expensive piece of jewelry, and it certainly wasn’t an engagement ring, but it was incredibly meaningful to you—a symbol of your family, which was extremely important to you. Patrick knew just how much you valued the ring and exactly what it represented to you, so in turn, you hoped that if you gave it to him, he would understand how much he meant to you. 

Getting up from where you’d been sitting for far too long, you began to pace the hallways of the hospital, wondering about the timing of your now imminent proposal. As you shuffled through the sterile building, you surprised yourself as you came across your partner. 

“Patrick!” you said with a start after unexpectedly catching a glimpse of him. 

“Hey,” he greeted unenthusiastically before beginning to walk right past you. 

“Wait,” you grabbed onto his arm before he could fully walk away, encouraging him to look right at you. It was now or never, and the words were on the tip of your tongue. 

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time for this right now,” he dismissed, his voice monotone and listless. 

“You do, though. Patrick, listen,” he didn’t look like he was in the mood to talk, but was prepared to listen to you anyway. You knew you only had a few seconds to pitch your proposition before you lost him, so you spat out your words rather than beating around the bush. “Let’s get married.”

“What?” he looked at you with brows drawn in confusion. It wasn’t exactly the ideal reaction to your proposal, but then again it wasn’t much of a proposal. “Right now?”

“Obviously not now, but… soon?” as you spoke, you began the process of slipping the ring off your middle finger and attempting to present it to him in the palm of your hand. Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic or put together proposal, but it felt right to be offering him such a grand and personal gesture while everything else was going sideways in his life. 

“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I thought that maybe I could make things a little better with your dad and… I don’t know. I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t want to wonder about what we could’ve been and-” you rambled on before you were interrupted with a sigh. 

“Honey, you can’t just make my dad dying better,” he rubbed his temple exasperatedly, then looked between you and the ring you were presenting him with. “If you wanted to make me feel better, you should’ve just brought me coffee.”

You frowned at him, knowing that you’d offered him that very thing earlier and he turned you down. You wondered if your communication would ever improve—or if it even needed to improve, since this proposal was going so poorly that you’d probably leave the hospital single. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” you closed your palm and put your hand in the pocket of your jacket, fully prepared for Patrick to tell you to fuck all the way off. It had been stupid for you to think that Patrick would appreciate such a grand gesture during such a terrible time. 

“Wait,” Patrick stopped you, now reaching for your arm. “My answer isn’t a no, it’s just… I don’t want this to be the memory. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Doing all the work of getting your hand out of your pocket, he grabbed the ring you presented him with to further prove his words and slipped it on his ringer. It only fit halfway down his finger, but he kept it on regardless. 

“Really?” you said, suddenly perking up.

“Duh,” he replied, looking a little shy as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he briefly looked away from you, as if his feelings were so strong that he couldn’t even manage to look you in the eye. 

You couldn’t contain your excitement at his answer, jumping and squealing a little bit as you pulled him into an overly enthusiastic hug. You heard the familiar sound of Patrick laughing quietly in your ear as you squeezed him. Though he always seemed to hold back his emotions, you knew that he was just as excited as you were to be promised to one another.

You pulled him into a soft kiss, draping your arms around his neck, holding him as close as you could until he inevitably pushed you away. 

Patrick surprised you with how long he was willing to embrace you, clearly in need of a little bit of comfort after such an emotionally exhausting night. You surprised yourself when you ended up being the person to pull away. 

“Should we go check on our family?” you asked, not bothering to hide your excitement around finally being in. 

“I just need a second,” he told you, glancing down the hallway before pulling you into yet another embrace. He pressed his face into your hair, soothing himself with your scent and presence. You rubbed circles into his back and muttered something about him taking all the time he needed.

You were interrupted by one of Patrick’s sisters, whose voice called out your names down the hallway. “When you two are finished with your snuggle-fest, the doctor has news for us.”

“Wait, what?” Patrick pushed you away quickly, his tune changing in an instant.

“Good news, I think. But move your asses. C’mon,” she directed, already turning away and Patrick quickly following her. 

If you were experiencing an emotional rollercoaster, you couldn’t even begin to understand how Patrick was feeling. Finding out his dad was sick, being proposed to, and immediately hearing more news about his father in the span of just a few hours must’ve felt unreal. 

You sat quietly and observed from the sidelines as a doctor took them into their father’s room and filled in the siblings on the state of him. They all seemed to share a collective sigh of relief, and though you couldn’t hear the exact news from where you were sitting, you knew that it must’ve been good. 

When Patrick came back to you, he had a hint of a sad smile on his face. “Ready to go?” he asked you. 

He didn’t need you to ask twice. You were more than prepared to escape the too-bright lights, sickeningly sterile scent, and the feeling of sadness that seemed to be hanging in the air of the hospital. 

Your driver was a welcome sight, with him giving you a quiet greeting as the two of you got in the backseat of the car. As he drove, Patrick reached for your hand, which you gladly gave up to him. 

In the following minutes, Patrick crept over further into your space until he sat directly beside you, leaning his head on you with his eyes closed. The long day was surely taking its toll, with the anxiety of his dad being in such dire straits, and the excitement and confusion of you proposing to him. 

His sleep was well earned. You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, then closed your own eyes, letting the soft sound of the early morning city traffic lull you to sleep. 

In the following days, you could tell that something wasn’t quite right with Patrick. At first, you chalked it up to nerves around his father’s health, but that didn’t seem to be it. Typically, when Patrick was really anxious about something, his silence on the elephant-sized topic gave him away. While you’d heard quite a bit about the state of his father from him—whether it was an update sent to him by his step-mother or an actual visit to the man—you hadn’t heard a peep about your engagement since the day after you got engaged. 

On the other hand, you were struggling to keep the news to yourself, despite the request of Patrick. You wanted to scream the announcement from the rooftops, but in the early morning after you returned from the hospital, Patrick made his position very clear: Wait a little while for things to blow over before you started telling people– your friends and family included. 

Despite the fact that he wore your ring every day since the day that you’d given it to him, something about his behavior told you that it was that very ring that was giving him so much internal conflict. 

In the past few years of knowing Patrick, you learned that he was a bit of a control freak. You wondered how out of control it made him feel for you to be the person to propose to him. Part of you wondered if you should’ve even proposed in the first place if it was going to be an issue. Maybe you should’ve let him do things on his own timeline, rather than making him feel nervous or insecure in your relationship.

But at the same time, Patrick initially seemed rather entertained by the idea of you getting married. In the morning after your engagement, he couldn’t stop referring to you as Mrs. Zweig. At the desk of your brand new office, given to you after a serious promotion, you found a box of expensive chocolates with a note fondly referring to you as his fiancé. As you laid next to him in bed that night, he pulled up the profiles of three separate wedding planners and asked you about your preference in people. 

It almost felt like his feelings on your engagement were constantly fluctuating between being excited to be with you forever, and being terrified of that very commitment. Things weren’t made any better by Patrick’s professional-level ability to dodge questions, especially questions related to how he genuinely felt. 

“C’mon, you know how I feel,” he replied to you after you directly asked him over breakfast. He lifted his mug casually, subconsciously putting space between the two of you. 

“Pat, I don’t. That’s why I asked,” you forced out a laugh, though the situation wasn’t exactly funny to you. If Patrick didn’t want to marry you, you didn’t want to force him to do so. 

“But you always know how I feel,” he said with a bit of a pout and a whine—what you called his ‘let me get away with it’ demeanor that he often used with his family—before setting down his coffee and standing up. 

“Not this time,” you explained, standing up as well and abandoning the plate of half-eaten eggs in front of you. 

“You’ll figure it out,” he dismissed your concerns and stepped close enough to you to hold your face in both of his hands. 

“Love you?” you asked, hoping that if he could confirm that at the very least, you might have a better understanding of what was going through his head. 

“Of course,” he said genuinely, though he didn’t offer you any parroting of those words. Instead, he dropped his hands from your cheeks and kissed one of them. “Have a good day at work, okay?” 

“Yeah. Thanks,” you tried not to look as annoyed as you actually felt as you made quick work of grabbing your work bag and leaving. You needed some time to make sense of it all. 

The situation only became more complicated as you sat down in a conference room, mentally preparing yourself to make your first big presentation as the newly vetted Head of Parks and Cruises division. You cared greatly about what your peers thought about you, so you couldn’t deny the nerves running through your veins. 

These nerves only increased when you caught a glimpse of Patrick from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the conference room, shaking hands with people on your floor and clearly making cordial small talk. 

You desperately hoped that he was there to wish you luck on your presentation, and not to pick your conversation from the morning back up. You bitterly thought about how he couldn’t have picked a worse time as he waved at you from the window. You stiffly waved back, not exactly in the mood to be interrupted right before a big presentation. 

“Hey, if I don’t make it back for whatever reason, you can do this presentation, right?” you asked quietly, leaning into your newly-hired assistant’s ear. 

“Wait, what?” he asked you, brows furrowing. “I don’t know, I haven’t practiced or anything, and-“

“Perfect,” you replied, not listening to a single word he was rambling out. “Just read off the slides. You’ll be okay.”

You didn’t bother staying to listen to Art ramble in your ear about how he didn’t know what he was doing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one presenting, and if he absolutely had to, he’d probably be fine. 

You shut the door behind you, politely waving at one of your co-workers as they entered the conference room. You made your way to Patrick and stood with your arms crossed against your chest, trying to strike a good balance between showing him how agitated you were, and not trying to further agitate your fiancé, who seemed to be in a particularly fragile mental state lately. 

“Hi honey, is anything important going on?” Patrick asked once you stood across from him. 

“Actually, yeah. Is there any way we could chat a little later? Like maybe an hour or two?” you suggested. “I can block some time off on my calendar for you and everything.”

“I’m sure whatever it is isn’t more important than this,” he glanced over at the conference room as he spoke to demonstrate his point. You wished you could explain to him how far that was from the truth.

“What is it?” you asked, your patience beginning to grow thin.

“You’ll have to see. Come with me?” he offered. 

“Patrick, I’m in the middle of a meeting!” you whisper-shouted, trying to keep your voice down and your body language mostly neutral, so your colleagues couldn’t observe how much you were freaking out as you talked to your partner. 

“It hasn’t started yet,” he dismissed casually. “They’ll be fine without you. I won’t be fine without you.”

You eyed him suspiciously. 

“Please,” he added, as if you’d ever be able to say no to him—though you were pretty tempted to do so. 

“Fine,” you gave in with a small, soft sigh. That didn’t deter Patrick at all, who seemed uncharacteristically excited as the two of you sat in the backseat of his car. 

“So where are we going? Or, what are we doing?” you asked, trying to ignore the terrible feeling in your gut that you felt about leaving your meeting. 

“It’s a surprise,” Patrick said coyly. “It’ll be more fun than that meeting, though.”

“I’m sure,” you replied, looking out the window. You hoped that whatever romantic gesture Patrick planned would be worth losing the respect of all of your peers. You wondered what you could tell them that would make your absence seem acceptable. Family emergency? It wasn’t exactly a lie. It wasn’t quite the truth either. 

When your ride stopped and you stepped out of the vehicle, you were surprised to find yourself at the diner that you spent the majority of your first few dates at, splitting pieces of pie and talking each other’s ears off for hours. 

“Craving some cherry pie?” you asked him curiously. Obviously, this seemed like a task he could’ve handled on his own, coming to the diner himself or having his driver buy and deliver him a whole pie, but you figured that maybe he was simply in the mood for some nostalgic comfort. In the midst of such chaos, you would be happy to give that to him. 

“It’s been too long,” he shrugged before grabbing your hand.

Patrick led you to the booth that you declared as yours all those years ago, and began to chat your ear off like normal. While you wanted to think about work, it was surprisingly easy to forget about the real world when you were in such a nostalgic place with him. 

The two of you ordered your old usual order, only enhancing the feeling of nostalgia as you shared a plate of painfully average pancakes and a slice of cherry pie.

“Ew, what is that?” you laughed after you bit into something hard and gross. “This fucking place,” you muttered, looking for a napkin that you could spit out whatever it was that you almost just consumed. 

When you glanced down at the napkin, you were shocked to find what looked like a metal ring covered in cherry syrup. “Oh shit. Do you think this belonged to someone?” 

Once you looked up, you were shocked to find Patrick holding a black velvet box, one that you’d seen before nearly a year ago as you deep-cleaned your shared bedroom, one that you chalked up as a gift for his mother or a friend. 

“Patrick?” you asked, clearly confused. He parroted your name right back to you and opened up the box, showing you one of the most beautiful rings you ever laid your eyes on. 

Suddenly, it made sense why he asked you to come out with him, interrupting you in the middle of the day to take you to a diner where you shared so many memories. Sure, he could’ve waited until you got off work, but you figured he was thinking about your conversation from the morning and wanted to do something that would show you how much he truly cared about you. He’d always been better at bigger gestures than verbally sharing his feelings, so part of you remained unsurprised. 

“I first fell in love with you here, so it only felt right to bring you back here to ask you to marry me?” he explained, not breaking eye contact with you. He was never one for a soapbox when it came to sharing his feelings, so his proposal was short and straight to the point. Though, you wondered if he had more words prepared that he simply couldn’t get out. Based on the speed of his leg bouncing under the table, you knew that Patrick was nervous out of his mind—despite him already knowing what your answer was. 

You recalled what Patrick told you in the hospital about not wanting your proposal to be the memory—the memory you told others about when you shared the news, or fondly recalled to your kids in ten years when you reminisced on your love story. 

If accepting his proposal now, and acting like his proposal was the only proposal made him feel better, you didn’t see any reason why you wouldn’t fully lean into it.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, genuinely being surprised at the offer, but playing up your excitement for the sake of your nervous fiancé. “Of course I’ll marry you, Pat.”

Patrick broke into a toothy grin, his excitement contagious to you. “Give me your hand,” he directed, taking the ring out of the box. 

He slipped the ring onto your finger, and it somehow looked even better on your finger than it did in the box. You looked at it in amazement curling and uncurling your hand to look at the ring from all of its angles. 

“It’s gorgeous, Patrick. Thank you,” you told him earnestly as you looked from your hand to him. You weren’t surprised by the quality of the ring or even that he found something that you liked so much. Growing up with lavish gifts constantly being given as an expression of ‘love’ made Patrick pretty damn good at giving you gifts. As for the other expressions of love… he wasn’t the best. But he was very obviously trying his best for you, and you loved that about him. 

In some ways, your proposals felt like the perfect encapsulation of your roles in your relationship. While you offered Patrick a ring with little monetary, but high emotional value, he gave you a ring that was probably more expensive than you could ever fathom, that didn’t have the same emotional ties that your family heirloom of a ring did. 

Beyond the appearance or symbolism behind your rings, and despite your very different proposals, you were ecstatic to be engaged to Patrick. It only felt right that after years of loving the man, you two were finally making things official in the legal sense. 

As you peered at your shyly smiling fiancé, you couldn’t help but break out into a grin yourself. You underestimated just how exciting it would be for you to be starting a new chapter of your relationship. 

[dollarbils]

crush on my stalker | b.e.

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. when you can’t stop thinking about your stalker, you do something you’re sure will grab her attention. but what do you do now that you’ve got it?

warnings. fingering, stalker billie, teasing.

part 1 masterlist

she consumes your mind, day and night. you can’t shake the thought of her, and you’re not even sure what she looks like. it’s thrilling.

billie. that was her name. so oddly alluring. her character so seductive it calmed the knowledge of what she truly was. your stalker.

"hey is everything okay?" the deep voice in the drivers seat spoke up, breaking you away from a place of deep thought.

"yeah why?" you stared at him, contemplating on what got you to this moment, in the car with him. you couldn't admit it.

"i don't know you just kinda went silent."

"i was just thinking." he smiled at your reply, the question of what your mind was focused on, at the tip of his tongue. thankfully, the car shook slightly before he could say anything.

"shit." he sighed as he looked around, examining what the source of the sudden movement could be.

"what's wrong?" you asked.

"fuck!" he cried, the car coming to a halt on the empty street.

"what happened?" you repeated.

"it must be a flat tire or something. we must've run something over." he muttered, stepping out to check the tires.

A flicker in the corner of your eye drew you away from his words, and you slipped away from the car, curious, yet your previous thoughts still lingering. it was dark, you could only make out the neighborhood’s houses due to the sliver of light provided by the slightly dimmed streetlights.

“i don’t have a spare, we’re going to have to call someone.” he was on his knees, inspecting the tire.

“mhm.” you mumbled, scanning the area. you we’re getting an eerie feeling of being watched. it light up your insides, but the fear of the uncertain getting to you nevertheless.

“could you look up a service and call them?” he asked, fiddling with the parts of his car.

“sure.” you reached for your phone before you felt an arm around your waist and a hand covering your mouth. you were seconds away from screaming, panic flooding you.

“shh.” her voice was a low whisper in your ear, her cool breath fanning against your skin, and her rings cold against your lips. she ushered you into one of the houses’ gardens, away from the car, and away from him.

“what the fuck?” you turned around and pushed her off of you.

“come on, don’t act surprised. you were practically begging for me.” she was good at riling you up, loving your misplaced anger as you dealt with the fact she was right.

“oh please, get over yourself.” she pushed you against the fence, clearly wanting to challenge your comment.

“oh yeah?” her tongue kissed her teeth. “i told you not to go out with him.” she said sternly her face impossibly close to yours.

“so?” she glared at you, her stare evident even in the dark.

“you should listen to me, i could change your life.” she whispered on your lips, making them tingle. she was convincing in the way she spoke.

“trust me, you’ve got that down already. having an obsessive stalker definitely counts as a change in lifestyle.” the insult fell on deaf ears.

“you like the attention.” she retorted as you raised an eyebrow.

“your heart races when your around me. you know you love the thrill.” your body was betraying you as her fingers danced across your collarbones, travelling behind your neck to caress it gently.

“you’ve lost your damn mind.” she bit her lip as you spoke, the comment clearly turning her on.

“god you’re such a brat, i love it.” you rolled your eyes. her hands traveled down your body, resting at your lower hips, rubbing the skin with her thumbs as her eyes traveled to your lips.

“so tell me gorgeous, why did you want my attention? you know i’d love to give it to you.” her hands were teasing as her eyes searched for answers in your own.

“stop it.” your voice was unsure of what you were asking her to stop. as was she.

“what?” she asked innocently as her hands moved dangerously close to your ass.

“assuming that i was with him to get a reaction out of you. he’s nice, i like him.” her hand came up to your neck as her body pressed harshly into yours. her lips travelled to your ear, making sure to trace the skin of your neck on the way.

“i could give you a whole lot more than fucking nice. you could be my wife.” the term hit you hard, her soft voice soothing the weight of the word. you let out a jagged breath.

“i don’t even know what you look like.” the argument was weak but she pretty much ignored it.

“you’re driving me insane.” the hand that wasn’t on your neck was fiddling with the opening of your jeans. before her fingers traced the fabric of your underwear.

“billie.” a shaky breath more than a word, but she heard it and her face lifted until her eyes met yours.

“hm? want me to stop?” she said this as her fingers sunk into you preventing you from protesting. your head fell back onto the fence as she watched you in awe. before you could reply, the both of you jerked at a loud shout from across the street. had it really taken him this long to realise you were gone?

you bit your lip as you tried to stay silent. when billie's fingers pinched your clit however, a sharp gasp slipped out. her hand came up to muffle any further noises.

"can't have your boy toy hearing you, can we?" your heart was racing, the effect she had on you evident in your response to her fingers.

"god you look hot like this, getting off on my fingers." she kissed your neck, admiring your skin. her fingers teased your entrance, occasionally pushing them in, further. her touch was addictive and you wanted to reach for more.

"is this what you wanted? am I giving you the attention you needed?" her words were condescending, mocking your state. you couldn't find it in yourself to give in to her words.

"gone quiet now, have we?" she didn't even give you the time to form a response as her fingers sunk deep into you as you grasped for her body, letting out high pitched moans that were muffled. she groaned into your skin, at the sounds you were making, dreaming of what they would sound like if she didn't have her hand firmly pressing onto your mouth.

"he really doesn't give up does he?" she was referring to his continuous shouting of your name. you almost felt bad, but it was the last thing on your mind when her fingers curled up further into you. she brought you closer and closer to your relief, the pleasure building up like a burning fire in your heat.

"what if he saw you like this? would that ruin it for you?" she removed her hand from your mouth, putting your fate in your own hands. your teeth sunk into your lip when her thumb began to play with your clit. you clenched around her fingers as you unravelled, holding onto her tightly.

"make a mess on my fingers baby." she chuckled, and you let out a low moan into her neck. her breath hitched when she felt your body leaning into hers. she zipped your jeans back up before bringing her fingers to your lips. against every sane fibre in your body you let them enter your mouth as you sucked on them, looking her in the eye.

"I'm not letting that loser drive you home." she turned around, about to lead you to her car.

"billie?"her body stiffened, hearing you call her name so openly.

"yeah?" she came closer and your eyes told her what she needed to know. she held your face in her hands.

"are you sure?" she searched your face for hesitation.

"yes." she brought her lips to yours and kissed you. it was so soft, so sweet. like she was pouring her emotions into you, and you were dinking it in.

part 3

you have no idea how many times I've written this.

[smileysuh]

NiceGuyJohnny : nct

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “You know,” he sighs as his fingers pump into you, “I was a little worried that- since it’s been so long since I fucked you properly, maybe it would be harder to make you cum, but-” he applies more pressure to your gspot and you’re crying out, pussy clenching ridiculously tight around his digits, “you’re squirting just as easily as I remember.”

cw/ tw. 69ing, oral, unprotected sex, size kink, manhandling, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, dumbification, praise, slight cum play/kink, etc... I petnames. (hers) sweetheart, baby, etc... (his) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 7.5k

🍭 aus. cam girl reader, poly idols, idols sharing a fuck buddy, dirty boy idols, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. camroom directory here - final chapter! when I started this series, I always knew John would be the endgame and I know some of my foreshadowings have tipped people off- thank you to everyone who's been here throughout this long endeavor- happy easter and happy John day!

“You keep checking the time.”

“Am I?” Johnny sighs, tearing his eyes from his phone to look at Mark.

“You know…” the Canadian averts his gaze, “no one would blame you if you want to skip the party tonight.”

“Skip our ‘tour ended and we’re back in Seoul’ party?” Johnny scoffs. “Why would I do that?” 

“Well, I mean… you haven’t seen y/n in a while-”

Johnny cuts his friend off, “She’s invited tonight.”

“I know but- you just keep checking your phone, so I sort of assumed-”

“Don’t do that.” Johnny hates how curt he’s being with Mark, but he can’t help himself. “Assume things, I mean.”

He hates how his deepest secrets are so painfully obvious to his best friend, hates how Mark can be much more observant than anyone gives him credit for. 

“Fine, I won’t,” Mark sighs. “But seriously- if you wanted to skip tonight… no one would blame you.”

Johnny only wishes this was true. As observant as Mark is, he hasn’t seemed to pick up on the fact that both Jaehyun and Haechan have a thing for you- something that goes beyond what anyone sees on cam. 

People will - in fact - blame Johnny if he skips tonight, especially if it means him going to your apartment, knocking on your door, and saying whats been on his mind for over two years now. 

As time ticks by and Johnny gets increasingly uncharacteristically anxious, so does his need to rip the bandaid off. It’s not like his thoughts can go unsaid any longer- even if he was to wait to the party to see you. If Mark can read the emotions on his face, Johnny has no doubt you’ll see right through him, and is a party really the best place to have the conversation he needs to have with you?

Johnny sighs and checks his phone again.

“John?”

He loves it when you answer your phone like this. His name sounds right coming from you- as right as anything Johnny has ever known.

“Hey you,” he can’t help the smile that appears on his face, and he looks down, twiddling with the sleeves of his sweater. “Still coming to the party tonight?”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He loves that he can hear your own grin- and he endevours to be the source of your smiles for as long as humanly possible.

“Do you need a ride?”

“I was gonna call a cab-”

“Don’t,” he tells you, “let me drive you.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you need to be getting ready for the party?”

“Nah, Doyoung and Taeyong are dealing with that- I just get in the way, like always.”

“Very naughty of you, John.”

There’s that smile again, and he can almost visualize it in his mind’s eye.

It’s been much too long since he’s seen you in person, and if he has to wait any longer, he might just combust.

“So you’ll let me pick you up?”

“Something tells me even if I said no, you’d show up anyways.”

“You’re right about that,” he grins to himself.

“So I guess I’ll see you at eight?” 

“Maybe before,” Johnny says under his breath.

Another laugh that sounds like music to his ears, then, “Just text me when you’re in front of my building.”

“You got it, baby.”

“Bye, John.”

“See you soon.”

At ten to eight there’s a knock on your door, and you pull yourself away from your vanity to go see who’s arrived at your apartment. There’s not text from John, so you’re prepared to see a neighbour or even your land lord-

Your breath catches as you open your door to reveal the windswept idol, his hands resting on either side of the frame. He’s so big- you’ve almost forgotten how big he is, how tall-

“John-” you watch his eyes dip to your lips, and the next moment he’s cupping your face, stepping into your apartment and pressing his mouth to yours. 

You grab at the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. With a quick motion of his foot, he’s closing the door behind himself, and one hand leaves your face to click the lock into place-

“Wait- John,” you say again, biting gently at his lip-

“Just let me kiss you-” he pleads, words breathy as his mouth ghosts over your own.

You want to let him just kiss you- but this is definitely not something you’d exprected on your agenda tonight- especially without warning, and the shock at suddenly seeing Johnny again causes you to be as firm as you’ve ever been with him. You press your hands flat to his abdomen, giving a small push- and your favorite idol pulls away from you without another word of protest.

There are a million questions on your mind, but the first one that comes out is; “How did you even get into the building?”

“Someone was leaving and when I approached they just held the door open-”

“They’re not supposed to do that-” you sigh, “the land lord posted a whole invoice about letting people in without keys- and hey! You’re not supposed to do that either! Walking into my apartment- you’re an idol, what if someone recognized you-”

“Are you that disappointed to see me?” Johnny is smiling down at you with all the ease in the world. 

You’re amusing him, and he’s at his most handsome when amused like this. 

“Why didn’t you just text me?”

“I don’t know…” for the first time, he looks thoughtful, “maybe I wanted to surprise you.”

“How long were you waiting?”

His gaze has shifted to your lips again, and there’s something of a dreamy glint in his eye when he sighs and says, “Longer than you can imagine-” 

“John-” you groan.

“I’m serious-” He catches your jaw between two fingers, and you find yourself looking up into eyes that have suddenly turned sincere. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“You do?” Your voice comes out a squeak, and your heart is thundering in your ribcage like never before. 

“Uh huh.” His tongue swipes over his lower lip. “But aren’t you going to invite me in first?”

The energy shift gives you something like whiplash, and you blink up at - arguably - your most stable lover. “Invite you in?” You take a small breath. “Aren’t we going out?”  

“I think I need some water actually.” Johnny’s hand drops, your chin released, and the large man shifts past you to head to your kitchen.

“John-” you give your head a little shake, moving to follow him. “Are you okay? You’re acting a little…”

“Acting a little what?” He fills a glass with water, cocking an eye brow at you.

“Off?” you suggest, doing the best to make sense of his erratic behaviour. He takes a sip of his drink, and you sigh. “Look… if you’re here to do a cam show before the party-”

“I’m not.” Johnny puts his water down, studying your face. 

You’re not convinced, and he knows it. 

“Really-” he insists, “I’m not here for a cam show- fuck- even if you had suggested one…” he looks like he’s considering it but ends up shaking his head, “no, even then- no cam show.”

“No cam show,” you repeat his words, still not fully satisfied. 

“Why do you sound like you still don’t believe me?” He grins at you. 

“I just- I don’t think we’ve ever been in a situation where you don’t want to fuck me-”

“Who said I don’t want to fuck you?” 

Your brows furrow in confusion. “You did- you just said no cam show-”

“True- no cam show, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to tear your clothes off- why do you think I had to get water? Needed something to distract myself-” His eyes move up and down your form, and he takes another sip of his drink. 

“John-” you feel a rush of wet between your legs- it’s funny how easily this man can make a mess of your panties. 

“So what do you want to do, princess?” Johnny asks. “Do you still want to go to the party? I know I’d prefer having some time alone here with you first… I still have something I need to talk to you about but-”

“Can it wait?” 

He pauses for a moment, studying you. From the way he breaks out in a grin, you can tell he’s read you as easily as ever- read the horny warning signs- 

“It can wait,” he confirms. “No camshow, just us?”

“Please, just get over here-” you reach your hands out for him and all it takes is two strides for Johnny to press his lips to yours again. 

You melt into the kiss this time. You’re still not a hundred percent sure what’s going on with him- but enough of your questions have been answered. And you suppose you can only stand in the same room with Johnny Suh for so long before jumping his bones-

You’re shocked you’ve lasted this long.

It feels amazing to have his large hands on you again- and his lips are as familiar as your soft pillow, or your favourite blanket. It feels like home to be wrapped in his arms- to be the main focus of an idol adored by countless fans all over the world-

But more than that- it feels like nothing else because this is Johnny- and there’s no one else like him.

Your heart aches in your chest when Johnny simply reaches down and lifts you up, forcing your legs around his hips while he carries you off in the direction of your room. 

You can tell by the way he’s kissing you that he’s missed you more than he can say- and you’ve missed him just the same, wordlessly communicated through the way you kiss him back, tongue swiping against his bottom lip as a groan works its way out of your mouth.

 Before you know it, the two of you are falling onto your bed, and it’s another familiar feeling. 

How many times has he fucked you here? How many times has he made you cum-

It’s been much too long since you last saw Johnny, but your bodies are moving in sync as if he’d never even been gone.

Everything has always just been easy with Johnny- and it’s fun too. 

When mid lip lock his exploritive hands discover your dress has a zipper up the back and it won’t be easily tugged off, Johnny pulls away from you just long enough to flip you onto your stomach, and you find yourself giggling at the manhandling.

“Sorry baby, give me one second to get this dress off of you-” he says, breath hot against your exposed back as he tugs the zipper down. 

Johnny’s straddling your thighs, and it’s an easy enough position for you to tease him with. You push your ass back and up, rubbing it against his crotch while releasing a sigh. “I can’t believe I dressed up all pretty and we’re not even going to the party-” 

“We can still go to the party,” he assures you, warm fingers gliding against your spine to undo your bra clasp.

“No, daddy,” you smile, “we can’t.”

“No? And why’s that, baby?” His lips ghost over your shoulder. 

“Because we have an entire tour’s worth of time to make up for- and I’d like you to fuck me till I can’t walk.” 

You feel him smile against your skin and his mouth moves to your neck. “I think that can be arranged,” he says, teeth dragging by your ear lobe and making you twitch. He pulls away much too fast. “And actually- now that you mention it, how about you stand up and let me see your dress one last time before you take it off- you know, to appreciate it.” 

“Really?” you groan. “Can’t you just tear it off me?”

“Daddy wants to see his princess, now be a good girl for me and let me appreciate you.” 

How could you resist a request like this? 

When Johnny moves to sit on the bed, you’re free to stand up, and you turn to face him. 

He’s breathtaking- leaning against the pillows, his eyes warm and his smile affectionate. “It’s a pretty dress baby, I should have told you that when I got here but- well,” he shrugs, “I was distracted by your lips.”

“You and your sweet talking,” you smile, shaking your head. “Should I strip for you, daddy? The way you stripped for all your fans on tour?”

Johnny laughs, and the sound is music to your ears. “Jealous, baby?”

“Not any more than you watching my cam shows, I bet,” you say, meaning for it to be a dismissive comment- because you know Johnny doesn’t get jealous seeing you with others…

Right?

“You’re funny, a funny baby” he chuckles, but there’s less joy in this sound than the one previous. “Take that dress off, funny baby, daddy’s getting impatient.”

“Yes sir-” you tease, slipping your staps down so your dress and bra can fall to the floor. You step out of the fabric, toying with the waistband of your underwear. “What about these, daddy?”

“Take them off now or risk them getting torn, your choice.” Johnny’s working on the buttons of his own shirt, jacket already discarded by the door- 

You lose focus for a moment, too distracted by each strip of the beutiful idol’s newly exposed skin- 

“Tick tock, darling,” your soft dom reminds you, grinning at the way you’re standing there frozen. 

“Right- sorry,” you slip your panties off and the coolness of the room rushes over your wet, hot, pussy. 

God, you need to be filled- you need to be filled so bad it hurts.

You hop onto the bed, reaching for the waistband of Johnny’s pants. “I missed your cock so bad, daddy-”

“Yeah?”

“Missed it in my mouth, and in my pussy-” 

“Mmm-” Johnny groans when you squeeze him through his pants, tracing the outline of his hard cock. “If you missed my dick so much- and I’ve missed that pretty fucking pussy of yours- maybe the only way to make sure we both get what we want is to start with you sitting on my face while you take me in your mouth- or at least, as much of me as you can fit.” 

69-ing is not a position you generally do with Johnny- but you suppose it’s been a long time since you’ve fucked. Maybe he’s picked up some new tricks? Maybe this just shows that you’re both absolutely insatiable- neither of you had the patience to wait much longer and Johnny definitely knows it. 

“Have you really missed me that much?” you ask as Johnny lifts his hips to pull his pants down.

“More than you can imagine,” he admits, shuffling down the bed, “now be a good girl and come sit on Daddy’s face.” 

His hands help you get into position, and before you can even lower yourself down, he’s applying pressure to help you sit onto his mouth, his tongue pushing into your pussy-

Johnny groans loudly against your core, and you think it must be from discovering how wet you already are. Or maybe he’s missed the taste of you- either way, the sound makes you even more turned on, the hands on your hips urge you to grind down-

“Fuck, Johnny-” you moan, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, ready to guide him to your lips-

A gentle smack on your ass is a reminder that Johnny expects the title of Daddy- at least, he does right now, and it brings a smile to your face. You like that he doesn’t stop eating your pussy- he has his priorities straight, and you think you should too, as you wrap your mouth around the pretty head of his cock-

Another groan from Johnny has your pussy throbbing, clit needing his attention- in a 69 position, you can’t just grind yourself against his nose, and it frustrates you as you take more and more of him into your mouth. 

When he’d suggested this- you’d thought it would be just a little foreplay- you’ve never cum in a 69 before- but when Johnny applies more pressure to your hips, forcing you down against his mouth- you realize you’re in very real danger of cumming sooner than you’d expected.

There’s something about the duality of being stuffed with his cock in your mouth, and his tongue in your pussy- 

You’re not quite sure where to focus, but you’re turned on enough that you’re drooling all over his dick, and your pussy is throbbing with wetness that Johnny eagerly laps up-

You moan around his cock and Johnny’s hips twitch, forcing more of him into your mouth. 

He’s the one who moans next, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking-

Your toes curl as pleasure courses through you, and you begin to pump the base of Johnny’s cock, using your drool as lube. 

Part of you wants to make him cum from your mouth if he’s going to do the same to you, but another part of you knows that’s unrealistic- Johnny’s got a big cock, he cums big loads, and it always takes a big little while to get him there, but damn, you enjoy the ride. 

It’s becoming harder and harder for you to breathe while focusing on everything- and you take your mouth off Johnny, groaning loudly while you continue pumping his cock with your hand. “Fuck- Daddy- feels so good-”

He growls against your pussy, switching between lapping at you and sucking on your clit. 

“Just like that- please- fuck- daddy- I think I’m gonna cum-” You close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of your stomach muscles tightening- “Yeah- I’m gonna cum from your tongue- don’t stop, please-” 

Not only does Johnny not stop, he eats you out with even more vigour, groaning against your pussy and sending you into a frenzy.

“Fuck- daddy-” you hardly have time to say much else before you’re cumming on his tongue, core muscles clenching as pleasure consumes you. 

The orgasm feels kind of like a firecracker, an eruption of jittery ecstasy that fizzles over your form, making your hair raise from your skin before heat is left in it’s wake. Sparkly waves of fire crackling energy erupt through your from with each suck and lick of Johnny’s tongue against your pussy, working you through your high like the diligent man he is.

“Fuck- please- need to be full-” even in your orgasmic haze, you have your priorities, and right now, the only thing on your mind is Johnny’s delicious cock being inside your pussy, the one hole that can truly take him the way he deserves- “Need your cock so bad-”

Johnny’s hands shift to your ass, and he squeezes you gently, giving one last harsh suck on your clit that has you crying out before he pushes you off his mouth. “If you need my dick so bad, you should sit on it next.” 

“What?” You’d been expecting him to fuck you- not the other way around. 

“Oh so you can ride Mingyu and Yunho but not me?” Johnny laughs, his breath teasing your wet pussy and making you twitch as you clamor off of him. 

“I-” you swallow thickly, adjusting so you can straddle Johnny, who sits up against the pillows, grinning while you stumble over your words. “I just-”

“You want Daddy to do all the work, huh?” he teases.

“Maybe-” you admit, feeling almost bashful as you reach between your bodies to grab his cock, lining it up with your pussy-

“Well, baby-” Johnny’s hands find your hips, and he steadies you as you begin to sink down on him, pussy swallowing him up inch by inch- “I guess you’re just going to have to wait.”

It’s as if a handful of your fuck buddies came to an agreement to make you wait for things, and you’re not happy about it. 

But honestly- as you take more and more of Johnny- you start to not care so much. It’s not like you’re going to be able to ride him for very long- you’re already gasping and you’ve hardly even moved yet.

This position hits deep- you suppose that’s one reason a few idols have liked having you on top recently. When you lean back, swiveling your hips, you can see the slight outline of his cock in your lower abdomen and it has you going feral-

“Fuck- look at you, baby,” Johnny groans, watching your every movement. “How’d you ever get so perfect?” 

“Shit, daddy, you’re so deep-” you whine, leaning forward again to grab at his shoulders, an anchor for when you begin to bounce-

“And you’re taking me so well-” the man under you breathes, hands settling on your hips to help you with your movements. “So well, baby- so perfect-” 

“Fuck, John-”

A gentle smack to your ass has you crying out and he smiles up at you. “Am I really John again?”

“Uh huh-” you nod, heart and pussy clenching tight, “missed you.”

Johnny sits up better against the pillows, and then he’s grabbing at you, cupping your face with one hand to draw your lips to his own. 

“I missed you too,” he says, kissing you deeply and making your mind go blank as you roll your hips.

It’s as easy as anything to get lost in John- but you suppose it’s always been this way.

There’s just something about the two of you that works, you can’t really explain it. 

Maybe it has to do with his brilliant non verbal communication - large hands guiding you to fuck him faster and harder - or maybe it’s just his perfect, gorgeous lips, the lips you could kiss for hours and not get bored- 

“Fuck, you feel so good, princess-” Johnny groans, digging his fingers into your hips. “Missed this.” 

“John?” you whimper when he shifts his hips, thrusting up to meet you.

“Yes, darling?” he asks, leaning in to press his lips against your throat while you bounce on his cock.

“My thighs-” 

His hands find the body part in question, and he massages the sore muscles. “Your thighs?” He grins against your neck.

“Please-” You know he’s just playing with you- it must be clear to him by now that you’re starting to get tired, and it’s harder to focus on his massive cock splitting you open when your thighs are burning from effort.

“You ready to be fucked properly now?” Johnny smiles up at you, as coy and confident as ever. 

“Yes, please-”

“Ready to be fucked the way only I can fuck you?” 

You’re suddenly reminded of what he’d said to you all those months ago when you first started your cam girl journey; “Fuck whoever you want,” he’d told you, “but no one is ever going to fuck you the way I can.”

“Yes, daddy” is the only answer that truly suffices as your body tingles with intense energy- Johnny has always been your rock, and he always will be. 

You love how easy it is for him to wrap an arm against the small of your back and flip you, pinning you to the bed and pressing his hips flush to your own. A moan is torn out of you as you grab at his shoulders, eager for his lips.

Each kiss is like magic, and he takes a test thrust that has your toes curling.

“Mmm-” you whimper against his mouth, and Johnny breaks the kiss to press his hot lips against your throat, sucking on your sweet spot and making another rush of wet flood to your core. “Johnny- feels so good-”

“You feel so good,” he retorts, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him feeper, the head of his cock hitting the spot that makes you want to scream.

“Shit- right there,” you tell him, digging your nails into his strong shoulders, your eyes closing as you allow the feeling to engulf your whole being.

“Here?” He thrusts into you harder, hitting the spot again and making you cry out. “How could I forget this spot?” Johnny grins, pulling away from your throat to look down at your pleasure controrted face. “It’s going to make you cum, right? You’ll be a good girl for me and cum again?”

“Fuck, yes John- shit, I want you to cum too-”

“Not yet baby, not yet,” he assures you in a voice that’s much too controlled. “I’ve been thinking about you for months- I don’t want to cum until I’m sure you’re satisfied-”

“I’m satisfied-” you try to tell him, but Johnny simply laughs at you.

“Haven’t even made you squirt yet, baby- just give in to the feeling right now, and let me do the rest, yeah?”

“Fuck-” you’re clawing at his skin, his cock repeatedly teasing the spot deep in your core- “John-”

“Come on baby, I want you to cum for me,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his nose brushing by your own in the most domestic way- “I can feel you squeezing- you feel like heaven, princess- just let go, I know you want to, let me take care of you.” 

“I’m so close-” you can feel your stomach muscles twisting in tighter and tighter knots, and you’re teetering on the edge-

“Here,” Johnny licks two of his fingers before slipping his hand between your bodies, and you cry out when he makes contact with your clit. “Those are the sounds I like-”

“Fuck, daddy-” you’re gasping now, body alight with electric energy-

The chord in your abdomen snaps, your orgasm slamming into you full force, and Johnny presses his lips to your own, muffling the noises of pleasure that threaten to fill the room and bug your neigbours- 

“That’s it, baby, that’s my good girl-” Johnny coos, fucking you through your high, his fingers unrelenting on your clit even as you wiggle bellow him, helplessly pinned by his weight.

“Johnny-” you whimper his name loudly than you’d intended, and he grins down at you.

“There you go, princess, let your whole apartment building know who’s fucking you-”

At this point, you can hardly bring yourself to care about noise complaints, and you allow your sounds of pleasure to fill the room while Johnny takes care of you, working you through your high as expertly as ever.

As your sounds slowly come to an end, Johnny’s thrusts slow down, and you cling to him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “John-”

“Can I flip you onto your stomach baby?” he asks, lips ghosting over your cheekbone. “I’ve been missing your ass like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Really?” Your stomach flutters with pleasure from the praise.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods, removing his fingers from your clit. “No doggy, just going to have you laying flat-”

“Fuck-” you groan. Images of all the times he’s done the ‘on your stomach legs closed position’ flash through your mind’s eye, and your pussy twitches at the memories- 

“Yeah- it’s nice and deep, that’s what you want, right?” Johnny asks. “Want Daddy nice and deep when he cums and fills you up-”

You’re nearly crying already- you want it so badly. “Yes, daddy-” 

“Come on angel, let’s flip you over-” He’s so caring, so calm and precise with you. You’ve missed his large hands, missed the way they so easily move you from one position to the next-

The next moment he’s pulled out of you and you’re on your stomach, resting your face against the pillows as Johnny shifts on the bed behind you. 

You press your thighs together, arching your back and lifting your hips ever so slightly to expose your pussy to him-

“Fuck, you have no idea how pretty you look-” he groans, large hands grabbing at your ass to pull your cheeks apart, revealing more of you to his eager eyes. “How could I have you in this perfect position without-” two fingers slip into your wet heat and you cry out from the unexpected intrusion, “making you squirt a little first?”

His digits begin to move against your wet walls, curling down to find your gspot- a squelching noise makes your skin tingle, and you realize how wet you really are-

But he intends to have you wetter, and you know Johnny’s preference for ‘slip and slide pussy’- it’s one of the way’s he makes sure you’re having a good time even when preparing to take his massive cock deep inside of you-

“You know,” he sighs as his fingers pump into you, “I was a little worried that- since it’s been so long since I fucked you properly, maybe it would be harder to make you cum, but-” he applies more pressure to your gspot and you’re crying out, pussy clenching ridiculously tight around his digits, “you’re squirting just as easily as I remember.” 

“Fuck, daddy!” you cry out at the unrelenting speed and force of his fingers, and you can feel a rush of new wetness between your thighs with each pump-

Your bed is going to be ruined after this, and you should have remembered to put a towel down - this is Johnny after all - but it’s another worry that soon slips from your mind as you give yourself in to the pleasure he’s providing.

“It’s cute that you can hardly speak,” Johnny says, and you can hear him smiling. “I think you’re just about ready for me.”

The pleasure he gives feels amazing, but there’s only so much you body can take, and while his fingers are large- you’re already starting to miss his cock-

“Please-” you whimper, feeling a hot, wet, tear slip down your cheek-

“Hmm?”

“I said, please!” you repeat, pushing your hips back and wiggling your bum at him even as his digits continue in your core- 

“That’s my girl.” He removes his hand from between your legs and you let out a sound of relief, only to brace yourself for the intrusion that will come next. “Just relax,” he tells you, voice soft as he presses his palm to your lower back, anchoring himself while he guides his cock to your wet hole.

“Johnny-” you whine his name as he pushes into you. Despite having taken him already, your core is still recovering from being made to squirt, so now, his cock feels even bigger, and you’re not sure what to make of it. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he leans over your back, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder blades, “I told you to relax.” 

You let out a groan as he pushes in deeper, shaking your head, “Can’t- you’re too big-” 

“Too big?” Johnny laughs. “You know, I thought with the recent cam shows that you’d been taken care of, but if you’re already clawing at me over this- maybe I misjudged the situation.”

He’s using big words, and you can hardly think coherently right now. The most you can do is moan, pussy twitching around his long cock as he sheiths himself into you, hips now flush with your ass.

“You can take it, right, baby?” he asks, lips returning to your shoulder and then the nape of your neck-

“Yeah- please-” one thrust has you stuttering, grabbing at the pillows in an effort to anchor yourself-

You’ve missed this position- missed it more than you’d ever realized.

You’re not sure if it’s the angle, or if it’s simply because it’s Johnny fucking you like this, but either way, it feels delicious. 

You can feel the beautiful vein that runs along the underside of his massive cock with each thrust, and it has you going feral.

A large portion of his weight is pressed to your lower back, keeping you pinned to the bed- it’s almost a little suffocating, but that only adds to your pleasure.

“Shit, I could do this forever-” Johnny groans behind you. “Could fuck this pussy till I die-” 

“John-” 

“You’d let me right?” Hot lips graze by the junction between your neck and shoulder, and a tingle of pleasure skitters from the spot he’d kissed. “You’ll let me keep fucking you- let me keep making you cum, over and over-”

“God, yes-” you push your ass back to meet his thrusts, “Please-” 

“Please what? Use your words, pretty girl, if you have any left.” 

“Need your cum-” you whimper, “need you to cum with me-” 

“Yeah? Is my good little cock whore already close?”

You nod desperately against the pillows.

“Is this position that good for you?” he taunts, fucking into you harder. 

“Yes, shit- please, John, I can feel you everywhere-” 

“Everywhere?” 

“So deep-” you confirm, biting into your bottom lip to muffle some of the moans that threaten to be torn out of you with each rough motion of Johnny’s hips smacking against your ass- “Please, John-”

“I like it when you say my name like that-” he groans, fingers digging into your hips, breath hot against your shoulders.

“John-” you moan louder, “John, John, John!” 

“I’m almost there- almost there, sweetheart-” 

You’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s close, and your pussy flutters around his cock, so near to the edge that you think you might die if he doesn’t let you cum-

“Please, John,” you beg, “please cum with me- fill me up till I’m your stupid little cock drunk baby-”

“You’re already my stupid little cock drunk baby, angel,” Johnny chuckles, but the laughter turns into another sound of pleasure. “Fuck- okay, let go- let go for me angel, I wanna feel you-” 

That’s all you need to let yourself release the tension in your core, and your pussy clamps down on his cock while you squeal into the pillow, muffling the loud sound that matches the pleasure coursing through you. 

Johnny lets out an equally noisy groan, and his rhythm falters slightly-

“Fuck-”

You can feel him coating your inner core with his cum, can feel yourself becoming incredibly full as he struggles to keep rutting into your tight pussy, your walls milking him for all he’s worth-

You gasp at the feeling of being completely satisfied, burying your face in the pillow as Johnny rides you through your highs. 

“You feel so good-” he groans, rhythm slowing as the both of you begin to come down from the pleasure. 

“No, you.”

Johnny laughs at your fucked out, easy submissive retort, and a moment later his hips are stilling all together, his cock burried deep inside of you as he presses his chest down against your back.

He’s hot, both of you are, but there’s comfort in the pressure of his large body covering your own- he’s something like a safety blanket, and you could truly doze off at any second-

“Hey, don’t go falling asleep on me, baby.” His lips brush by your throat and a shiver of stimulation runs through you, making you grin.

“I’m tired,” you insist.

 He continues pressing soft kisses to your skin. “Don’t you want to hear what I was going to tell you when I got here?”

“Oh right-”

“Can you flip over for me though? I want to see your face.” 

“Johnny-”

“Please?” He nuzzles your ear with his nose, and it tickles you, forcing you to laugh and shrink away.

“Fine- but as soon as you pull out of me, and I flip over, your cum is going to start dripping out of me-” 

“Should we do this in the shower then?” Johnny chuckles.

It is something of a post sex ritual for you. You’ve found that showering with a sexual partner can be the perfect aftercare, and it doubles as clean up.

“A shower sounds good,” you agree.

With one last kiss to the nape of your neck, Johnny pulls out of you, and you stifle a whimper at the loss. 

The next moment, you feel his cum begin to dribble out of you, and you groan at the way Johnny always fills you up to the brim. Without even thinking twice, you slip your hand between your legs, plugging your pussy with two fingers.

You roll onto  your back, and Johnny is quick to scoop you up in his arms. He’s chuckling, and it makes your skin heat with embarrassment. “Hey,” you reprimand him, “don’t laugh at me!” 

“I’m not laughing at you,” he promises.

“Yes you are!”

“I’m not,” he says again, still grinning. “I’m just thinking- that I could get used to this.”

He sets you down in your shower and you look up at him with a cocked brow. “Wow Suh, I didn’t realize how much you missed me while on tour-”

“Hey-” now it’s his turn to reprimand you, but most scolding that comes from Johnny includes a note of playfulness. “I’m being serious.”

“Really?” 

Instead of answering, you watch him quickly reach past you, turning on the shower. The spray hits by your feet, and you shiver from the cold temperature, skittering further away from it. 

“Johnny-” you groan, seeing right through his feeble attempt to derail the conversation.

“What?” He grins at you. 

“You’re being weird today- something’s off with you and I know it. Wish you’d just say what you want to say.” If he keeps tiptoeing around the thing that’s on his mind, you might just put your dress back on and go to the party where his members will actually talk to you. 

“Right-” Johnny tests the water, stepping into the shower to join you. His hands find your hips and he pulls you close. “I guess- I’m just nervous.”

“You? Nervous? Okay mister stripper-” 

He grabs  your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Sometimes you make it hard to be serious with you, do you know that?”

“Me? How?!” You insist, feeling personally attacked.

“Don’t call me Mister Stripper when less than ten minutes ago you were calling me Daddy, okay?” 

“Okay, daddy.” 

His gaze shifts down to your lips, and he releases your chin. “Now give me a kiss for goodluck.” 

“Okay, daddy,” you say again, grinning as you lean up to press your mouth to his. 

His arms wrap around your body, pulling you to join him under the spray of warm water. 

It feels good to be doing this with him, but the heated kiss only lasts a few moments before he’s pulling away from you. He shifts so his back is blocking the water from you again, and you cling tighter to his warm body, pouting up at him-

“Maybe the shower isn’t the best place for what I’m about to say if you’re pouting at me over water hogging.” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, “just tell me what the issue is or I might start to think you’re in love with me or something.” 

His eyes search your own, and when he doesn’t immediately open his mouth to contradict you, something tells you that you’ve hit the nail on the head. 

“Wait, Johnny-” 

You can’t finish your sentence because a second later his hands cup your face and his lips press to yours. You can taste something like desperation on his tongue- 

“John-” you whisper again.

“Just let me kiss you,” he insists, and you almost want to laugh. This is what he’d said when he came into your apartment too-

Is he really this afraid of your reaction? 

You’ve never known Johnny as the kind of guy to lack confidence- and it’s almost cute that he’s worried about this.

“John-” You press your hands to his stomach, and he moves away like he always does the moment you give any push back. 

His eyes hold the same desperation that his kiss had, and they’re sad, as sad as you’ve ever seen them-

“God,” you can’t help but laugh a little, “stop looking so worried!” you take a breath and feel your expression soften, “I love you too, you big dummy-” 

“You do?” His lips part in shock.

“Of course- I mean- how could I not?!” 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?!” you fire back. 

“Well- I mean-” he rubs the back of his neck, “when you said you were picking up cam girling again after a hiatus-”

“I needed to be fucked and you were on tour! For ages! Besides, why did I get into cam girling in the first place, you big buffoon?” Part of you wants to laugh, and part of you wants to cry- “How long- how long have you-”

“A while,” he admits, swallowing thickly. “Sometimes I think about what would have happened if I’d never suggested the cam stuff- if I’d just manned up and offered to be your sugar daddy or something-”

“John-” you groan, hiding your face in your hands at all this new information. You’re in shock- and after a breath, you look up at him again. “How does a guy that loves a girl suggest for her to camgirl and fuck all his friends?”

“Well you see…” he licks his lips, “I’m not the jealous type?”

“You’re not the jealous type, oh my god-” 

“I mean, to be fair-” Johnny reaches for your hand, “you have so many idols wrapped around your finger that- maybe I thought it would be presumptuous to think I might stand a chance-”

“Johnny, that’s where you have it all wrong,” you say firmly, looking up at him with a stubborn set to your mouth, “no one ever stood a chance to you.”

“Really?”

“Not one person,” you confirm.

“I mean, you and Jinyoung were pretty close-”

“But he could see we were closer- he must have seen it- and he’s not the only one, John. Jaehyun’s asked me about us before, and Seungcheol seemed to know something about us last week-” you shake your head, still in disbelief. “I always thought maybe this was one sided-”

“Because of the whole thing about me suggesting you become a cam girl?”

“Yes!” 

“Well- I’m sorry.” When you look at him you can see that he’s being genuine. “I’m sorry that I gave you mixed signals.” 

“And that now I’ve fucked a few of your friends and things are way more complicated-” you add.

“They don’t have to be that complicated,” Johnny insists.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you sure about that?”

“Okay, John Cena-” your lover jokes. “I guess maybe things are a little messy-”

“A little?”

Johnny just looks at you for a moment, and then he smiles. “I love you.”

“And I love you, but-”

He kisses you before you can speak more, and for the third time today, you find yourself wanting to melt into the kiss even while your mind rages with unanswered questions. 

However, unlike the last two times, this time, you allow yourself to give up control. You give in to his tongue as it swipes across your lower lip, and when his hands slip down to your ass, you let him lift you up, legs wrapping around his waist-

“I love you,” Johnny says against your lips, harder this time. 

“I love you too-”

“Do we really have to talk about all this-” he asks, showing you that he’s aware he’d cut you off with a kiss, “or can I just fuck you now?” 

You laugh, shaking your head a little. “You can ‘just fuck me now’- but you better keep telling me you love me-”

“I was planning on it.”

“Good!” 

“Good,” he echos, mouth moving to your neck while he adjusts his hand to slip it between your bodies, grasping his cock to line it up with your entrance-

“Fuck, Suh, I love you so much that some days it’s made me want to scream-”

“Well, you can scream now if you want,” he smiles against your throat, “in fact-” he begins to push into you, “I’d really like to hear you scream for me tonight.”

“You’re-” you whimper as he fills your core in the most perfect way, “you’re insatiable-”

“I’ve got time to make up for,” he says simply.

There’s no way to fully describe the surge of emotion that runs through your body, it’s something like shock, awe, wonder, elatedness-

You can’t believe you’re here- can’t believe that the forbidden feeling you’ve been trying to ignore for over a year has been reciprocated- 

“Johnny?”

“Yes, my love?”

You shiver at the new petname, heart warming in your chest. “I just wanted to say I love you.”

“I love you too, my perfect little cam baby, I love you too.” 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This series has meant so much to me- a number of people wanted to give Jaehyun an ending, as he was very angsty for cam baby, so I've given an optional bonus below that ties up Jae's storyline and gives a little more cam baby closure :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “It would be a one-time thing,” Johnny says, with a dismissive wave of his hand, “but- I know you were missing her while we were on tour too, and you guys have always been long-term friends-” By ‘long term friends’ Jaehyun knows Johnny means ‘fuck buddies,’ and he reaches down to pinch his own arm, making sure he’s not dreaming.

cw/ tw. threesome, dry humping, spitroasting, oral, protected sex, quickie, praise, dumbification, overstim, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 staring. Jaehyun & Johnny x afab!Reader  

It’s been over a month since you and Johnny made your relationship official, and Jaehyun still can’t get used to seeing you two be so overtly loving with each other. Sure, he’d always had suspicions that you and Johnny’s affections ran deeper than you’d let on, but suspecting it and seeing it are different things.

He hadn’t realized seeing it would hurt this much. Hadn’t realized how deep his own feelings for you had grown- how used to you he’d become. 

And he’s not the only one. Haechan had thrown a royal fit when you’d skipped their ‘back from tour’ party, and Jaehyun is glad neither you nor Johnny had been around to see it.

“Maybe she’ll still want to fuck though-” Haechan had insisted, 4 bottles deep into his Soju, “Johnny’s not a jealous guy-”

At the time, Jaehyun had scoffed, rolling his eyes as Mark rubbed his best friend’s back and tried to be sympathetic, but now, as Jaehyun watches you and Johnny putter around the dorm, he starts to have the same hopes that Hyuck had. 

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› hiatus…

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Don't Get Attached | Part 2

➪ Playlist (Spotify)

➪ W/c: 1137

No Strings Attached

I’m not sure what you would call what Jungkook and I are. Friends? Lovers? Friends with benefits, maybe? Labels are confusing, but as far as people around us are concerned, we are “dating”. If you consider physical attraction dating then whatever floats your boat I guess. The thing is that neither of us is seeking any other source of attraction, or even if we were then it’s clear that neither of us is willing to showcase it. Jungkook is the type to never have heard the word “no” so it’s easy for him to get what he wants. And currently, his fixation has been me, specifically the chemistry between us. But, I’m not the type to be played around with either, so with two strong-headed players it’s difficult to highlight the whole picture without missing the small details. Thus, we keep each other in place, allowing only surface affection to prevent deep-rooted emotional damage. Don’t get attached y/n.

--

Checking my watch for the tenth time, I shiver in my little jean jacket as the cashier at the ticket kiosk announces the final show times before closing. See, Jungkook and I planned to watch the new Spider-Man movie together, but the only problem is that he is nowhere to be found. Each one of my attempts at calling him goes straight to voicemail. Has he forgotten about our date? Not very on brand of him but maybe something has come up, so I decide to text him instead. 

y/n: Hey, where are you? The theatre closes in about 45 minutes. Are you ok? Please call me. 

No reply. Very strange. Actually, what’s more strange is the fact that his location has been turned off for the past 2 hours. Trying really hard not to go into a manic episode I focus on some deep breathing before succumbing to the sharp pain in my chest. Although my brain is telling me to stay calm, the heart never lies, right? Following my own delusion, I decided to stop by his apartment as there are a plethora of places Jungkook could be at right now, but this one just feels like a good start. 

“Thank you,” I say to the taxi driver before making my way towards Jungkook’s apartment complex. It’s now about 11 pm, so the streets are quiet. As the elevator doors close, the sharp feeling in my chest intensifies making it hard to breathe. Nonetheless, I shake away the nerves and knock on his front door. No one answers, so I try again before using the spare key he gave me to “keep just in case I missed him at night”. 

As the door slowly opens, my eyes scan the room for any signs of Jungkook. Although nothing was out of the ordinary, there was a sweet smell of cherry blossom lingering in the air, which did strike me as a surprise since he is more of a vanilla-scent type of guy. But, people change I guess, so I lock the door behind me before tiptoeing towards his bedroom. 

“Jungkook hurry, I miss you,” a woman's voice echoes behind the bedroom door before it swings open. My mouth slightly drops at the sight of a half-naked redhead who seems to be just as confused as I am. 

“Who are you?” she snaps, eying me up and down before turning her head towards the bathroom where Jungkook was currently in. I abrupt her attempt at getting his attention by pulling her out of the bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind me. 

“I … I just needed to drop off something, but now I see that it's not the best time so I'll just head out. Umm, no need to tell Jungkook,” words stutter out of my mouth as my body begins to fuel with adrenaline from the sudden rush of emotions. Folding her hands in front of her chest, the redhead watches me rush out of the apartment before turning her attention back to Jungkook whose wet hair was dripping down his exposed chest. 

“Who was that?” 

“Some girl, she said she needed to drop something off …” 

“Fuck y/n was here? Why didn’t you call me?” he snaps harshly, putting on a pair of grey sweatpants and a black hoodie over his freshly washed body before rushing out the door. 

The corridor towards the elevator seemed to never end as my steps got faster and my breathing slower. Pressing the 1st-floor button, my body finally gave in as I leaned back on the cold wall before resting my head. Looking at my reflection I can feel my eyes water, pathetic really. I told you not to get attached y/n. What did you expect from a relationship with no strings attached? 

Before my subconscious could answer, the inner dialogue was interrupted by Jungkook, whose tattooed arm was now holding back the elevator door from closing. Quickly wiping the tears from my face I move to the other side as he stumbles inside. 

“Y/n …” he lets out, voice raspy and deep. Turning on the emergency button, he turns his face towards me as the elevator halts. Feeling as if time had stopped completely, our bodies were still, eyes locked on each other. 

“Y/n, please let me explain,” Jungkook whispers, reaching out his hands before I push them away. 

“No need, I totally get it,” I snap, trying to maintain my composure as my throat tightens. Holding back the tears in my eyes I bite down on my lip, reaching out to press the 1st floor button again before I'm inches away from Jungkook's chest as his broad shoulders tower over my form. As my back hits the wall, goosebumps rise all over my skin from the sudden cold sensation. 

“Jungkook, move or else I'll scream,” 

“Do it. Scream, yell, I don't care, just please don't leave like this,” he says softly, pressing his forehead on mine as the scent of his body wash fills the small space between us. 

“What do you want me to do? Dance? Do you want me to skip from joy upon seeing a half-naked woman in your apartment? Huh?” I yell at him, unable to control the tone in my voice any longer. Trying to push myself out of his grip I gasp for air as my throat tightens again. 

“Shhh y/n please, you need to calm down,” Jungkook sighs, caressing the palms of my hands before meeting my teary eyes. 

“Don’t tell me what to do, in fact, don’t ever talk to me again. Forget we ever happened. Here …” I scoff, placing the spare key into his hand before finally reaching for the 1st-floor button. As the elevator gets back in motion, his grip loosens but doesn’t let go completely. 

“Hope she was worth it,”

Previous l Next

[vixxdaemon]

Would you like to share your thoughts with the public about O’saAbella? Like anything, whether that would be the reason why you started shipping them, au's, scenarios that are running in your head 24/7 ect.

I was hoping for this day to come…

Alright so, it all started when I saw this happen in the confessional cutscene, when you tell O’saa you have a crush on someone from the train. First person he mentions is Abella :

Like, this is undoubtedly meant to be Abella, no doubt. So certainely he must at least perceive her as attractive for him to think of her literally above anyone else. (He does mention Karin instead of you play as Abella but like. Most likely cause it’s just that, you already are Abella so he would not ask you if you are into Abella lol.)

THEN FUNNILY ENOUGH the way I started to ship O’saa and Abella together was by wondering if they were any fics with…Ah, Abella tending to O’saa, if you catch my drift. Take care of him. In bed. Dominating him, gonna say things as they are. (There weren’t any at the time.)

So it lead me to think of them more and actually realize that their dynamic would be entertaining to see and how they would actually make a cute couple. I started to look for more things between them in game, and besides the Party Talks that are pretty fucking funny, I had figured out something.

In the Tunnel 1, exactly where you can recruit O’saa, the only way to get him in your party is having him ask you if you know anything of the tunnels you are in, you HAVE to reply to him in the affirmative.

(Source is on wiki gg, but feel free to go check that out of yourself, you will see that he won’t suggest to join you if you tell him you don’t understand what is happening in the tunnels.)

So, guess who amongst literally everyone in the Contestants that is well versed in machines and more importantly, tunnels ?

That’s right, Abella. The Mechanic.

What I am suggesting right here is that it’s highly likely that «canonically» (as in the intended storyline that happens during Termina), Abella is the person finding O’saa and helping him out. Not only because she knows how the tunnels works, but also she is most definitely one of the few characters that would be willing to take in a wounded person with her and help them get back to their feet in the cast.

Now there isn’t even this evidence we have in canon, but there is also the fact that their personalities are opposites, and even more than that, some of their themes too, all the while having actually quite important points in common. Let me explain.

Abella has grown up a caregiver, having helped her parents take care of her younger siblings since she is a child. She has an actually quite peppy personality beyond that frown on her portrait, she enjoys romance books and literature. She expresses sadness or disgust at death, if not straight up distress when she sees people actively suffering (the people hanging at the ceiling yelling at the shopping district of Prehevil). Abella suffers for others, as she Moonscorches literally while she is trying to find pieces for the train, doing a thing she always did : helping other people.

O’saa has grown up most of his life away from his family, and since really young has adopted a «fend for yourself and only yourself» kind of mentality. He does not care for the homeless, if not immediately mocking them, he is completely unphased at violence and the suffering of others, he even threatens to hurt YOU if you come too close to him for his liking. O’saa suffers for himself, as we can see his Moonscorch reveals his struggle with wishing for his autonomy and escaping the control of higher powers.

That being said, the points in common they have is that they are both very very dependant and self reliant, both very much the kind of character to take matters into their own hands and get their own hands dirty to get what they want. And if they want something, they WILL get it by all means necessary (see Abella’s Ending B of her learning astrophysics and building a whole ass spaceship to get in contact with the Moon, while O’saa’s Ending B is him BECOMING the higher power, aka a cult leader, to not be controlled anymore and instead BE the one in control, which in my opinion is tragic in its own right but I won’t elaborate on O’saa on his own here.)

All that being said, as a couple I would imagine that most of it would happen outside of Prehevil, in a canon divergent ending of Termina.

Abella, knowing O’saa is erudite about magic and the surnatural, would ask to stay in contact with him because she feels the need to know more about what happened during the festival. O’saa would accept, happy to have an occasion to have his ego being stroked while he teaches someone else about what he knows.

The pair would travel the world to learn new things, spend a lot of time together, and Abella would even teach O’saa a thing or two about mechanics as a trade off for him teaching her about the occult.

Eventually both would have feelings about eachother…On Abella’s side it feels natural for it to happen, as they do spend a lot of time with eachother and enjoy eachother’s companies and hobbies. On O’saa’s side though…needless to say he is having an existential crisis because he did not even know having simple, romantic feelings for someone was even possible for him. I think sexual feelings he views as not shameful, because it’s what his body would need and not his feelings, but there he is having a proof that he’s not as dead inside as he tried to be for years.

Abella is aware of this, as O’saa grows visibly more hesitant and dare I even say coy with showing affection to her that goes a bit too uncomfortably close to the line between simple friendship and romantic attentions. She decides to let him figure it out by himself, but that does not mean she doesn’t enjoy seeing him very subtly avoid her gaze when their eyes meet.

I also have. A whole thing with me and associating them with Gro-Goroth and Sylvian imagery. This bit is not a theory or trying to prove anything being canon, but it’s more about symbolism and narratives that I like to associate with them cause I do like some religious imagery. I can most definitely get into detail about it, but the post is already too long as it is by itself LOL

Hopefully this will feed your curiosity.

[heyftinally]

re: fact checking / believing media.

You handled that anon better than I would have. I got angry on your behalf. I’m sick of Swifties defending Taylor for very obvious flaws / problematic behaviour she exhibits.

Swifties also believe what they read. A lot of media outlets wrote articles to benefit Taylor. That anon was bitching cause you were discussing one that didn’t support Taylor.

Also Swifties not only believe the media when it comes to Taylor but they also actively believe the rumours THEY MAKE UP THEMSELVES. No one reported Joe cheated on Taylor, it was a fan theory that they believed into reality. And when it comes out she cheated on him they hype her up and then still attack Joe. I’ve seen antis get hate for pointing out Taylor has a drinking problem (with concern not hate) which Swifties venomously deny she does. But that hate comes from the same Swifties who create the narrative she had to drink to escape Joe. Like they can’t even keep their story straight.

People telling antis to stop believing everything they read and stop speculating when it’s the EXACT behaviour her fans exhibit is laughable. Her fans are actually worse cause they make up false stories to the point they all believe them. “She’s pregnant” is only coming from her fans. They are inherently more problematic towards Taylor. This woman they apparently adore.

Honestly I’m not even convinced they’re fans of her anymore with how they behave. It’s just habit to defend her. Or FOMO.

This. All of this. If I had a dollar for every time a swiftie made up facts about something - Taylor's behavior, history, quotes, anything really - I'd have enough money to go to, like, two Taylor Swift concerts (y'know, because her overpriced tickets are like 20k a pop in some cases)

In all seriousness, though, youre100% right that her fans make shit up constantly and then believe their own theories as fact. All the times I've ACTUALLY called out Taylor, I've used facts. Let's use my Fortnight Ableism callous as an example - you can go find sources for everything I wrote in that post. It's not hard. "Abuse in mental asylums" will turn you up countless results on google. The pictures of her house are from an article *about her house*. I ran that post by my disabled friend to get their stamp of approval on my statements, too, because it's THEIR history I was speaking about, so I asked them to approve it. And they did.

I also fact check things like, say, my election news. Or crimes that happened (just today I fact checked something that happened near where I live, and what I'd heard had been false).

I don't post every random thing I fact check. I also don't post citations for everything that I *do* fact check, because this isn't a college essay and I'm not obligated to prove my research to a bunch of internet strangers.

But as usual, swifties love to throw baseless accusations around just to feel like they did something. Honestly, it was kind of funny to metaphorically curb stomp their accusation. Like, I'll post my own receipts, I don't care. Funny how the proof shows they can't read, though lol.

Now this isn't an invitation for swifties to come harass me - y'all can kindly fuck off. But it would be nice if they would at least pretend to have self awareness before they try to come at me.

[dangermousie]

Finished my rewatch of ep 2 of City Hunter and it really still holds up.

I love that he sees her throw a man over her shoulder in the first two minutes of their acquaintance and he is definitely intrigued. Honestly, so much of this ep is him being so smitten and not even realizing he is.

I mean, the last shot is after she knocked him over for kissing her as a means to dump his source of information after the information dried up and giving her cash for the trouble of the kiss. (She stuck money back at him and said "for treatment." )

But then there was this earlier - him making out with his target while watching Nana the whole time. Badwronghot.

(And of course the very fact that he's sleeping with someone he doesn't want for info. He may not want to carry out undaddy's murder plan with murder but he's certainly been trained to do a lot of things that are objectively fucked up and to treat himself as an instrument.)

The thing that strikes me so much on rewatch is just how AWFUL undaddy is in his plan. It's one thing to take out people he thinks wronged him and his dead partner. It's another one to use a baby you stole and to fuck him up and train him into a killing machine who will then unknowingly kill his own father. I mean, this was genuinely chilling:

He is meeting the President who he does not know is his father but who he also does not know is his final target. Not to mention his half-sister is checking him out and it's just so wrong wrong wrooooong. It could have all gone way more horrifically wrong than it already did.

In retrospect, it's so clear how undaddy is manipulating the hell out of him, leading him on with the hope that after this is over they can live a normal life. Undaddy told him the name of only one target, and that's the slimiest, least sympathetic one and says he'll tell him the names of the others and why he wants him in the Blue House later - you know what that is? That's grooming. He's slowly and methodically grooming him into an assassination machine via baby steps and that is effing creepy as hell and my wish for undaddy to be eaten by snakes and I am only sad it took as long as it did for him to meet his demise.

Trust you? Great idea. NOT.

It kills me just how kind YS tries to be even with his insane upbringing - he paid for Nana's father surgery, he was kind to those kids, and he wants to take down the target without murder. Oh, young man, you are gonna go through hell and a half in this drama.

Also, I love how even this early on, he is so gone for her. He knows she's the girl whose picture he fixated on in hell jungle. And what better way to angst than in the shower? Man, I miss those glorious old school angsty kdrama shower scenes.

But I think my favorite sequence in this whole ep and the one that speaks volumes is what happens after he goes to her apartment (after carrying her four flights of stairs since she sprained her ankle.) It's an almost throwaway moment but it says so much. He sees all these markings on the wall and asks her what the weird numbers and notches are all for and she explains, as one would to a somewhat dim small child, that this is how her family would measure her height every month, throughout her childhood, until she was 17. I liked it so much because in those few seconds it established both the warm, loving, thoroughly normal childhood Nana had and what a lack of one he had - that he has to have something this basic explained to him. And then his little pleased grin when he figures out exactly how tall she is in her bare feet compared to him and where she'd come up to on his chest - he's pretty much unknowingly in love with her to bits and so learning little things like that about her make him happy.

The thing that I love so much is that Nana doesn't have a charmed life - her father is in a vegetative state, her mother died in the same accident that made her father that way, and bank was close to taking away everything for debt. But she's had love and warmth and a solid foundation and so she's sunshine - but it's a choice for her and an affirmation, it's not because she's only known sweetness and light.

The scene where she explains the stickers is a very quiet scene I adored - in a way she's an inverse mirror of him. She has a dead parent and one parent who's as good as dead, but she's a good sunny person and not a mess like he is because she was brought up properly. And eventually his being around her drags him into normalcy, which is helped by the fact that he doesn't feel any personal urgency in vengeance. Yeah, all these people killed his supposed father but it's abstract to him - he's never even met the man. He will get rid of them because undaddy basically brainwashed him into it, but he doesn't have an emotional stake in their deaths (even if he has one in the outcome - getting to find his mother and living a normal life, which undaddy dangles like a carrot). However, he has an emotional stake in people he knows - Nana being one of them but other people as well (you can see later, her character basically draws him into interacting with others on personal levels).

You watch him be empathetic and you watch him be teasing and dorky about the ramen and you realize that his demeanor is not just a disguise - it's someone he'd like to be and possibly would have been except for undaddy. And that around her he lets his guard down and allows himself to be childish.

[themonotonysyndrome]

https://www.tumblr.com/themonotonysyndrome/743838934671540224/a-what-if-headcannon-present-castin-met?source=share LADYMONOTONEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️Little check up, how have you been doing? 😙

Could we have the reverse of this ask (like adult Celica meeting past Castin and probably Mama Hammer). 👉👈

Hello, dear Anon! Thank you for checking up on me! I'm doing alright; it's just that my writing progress has been slowed down due to Ramadan. I get tired easily nowadays, hence, why this oneshot was slow to come out.

Also, I knew it! I knew someone would asked for a reverse twist of the previous time-travel shenanigans 😂

Aite! Here's a teenage Castin meeting the current-aged Celica feat. Mama Hammer!

-

Castin is so bored; bored to death, in fact!

He didn't want to go out and play with his friends (it always turned out for the worse anyway, now that Rhett was busy training to be a Witch Hunter), and he had already read every book that his Ma purchased for him - thrice!

"Instead of groaning and whining over there," Clara Hammaer blithely commented at the sight of her teenage son prone form sprawling on the armchair. "Why don't you lend Ma a hand, hmm? Castin? Boy, are you listening to me over there?"

Face pressed against the cushion, Castin lets out a muffled "Yeah..."

Clara rolls her eyes fondly at his son's typical teenage dramatics. However, a part of her worries that Castin has been purposely isolating himself in their house more often lately. She knows how the other boys would mercilessly tease him whenever he opted out of their harmful pranks and hazing, and no matter how much she complained about it to their parents, they would just brush her concerns off. Fucking assholes, the lot of them.

"Tch, boys will be boys... What a load of bullshit..." Clara mutters under her breath. The paper in her hand crumples.

"You said something, Ma?"

"Nothing, honey. Would you mind foraging some wild vegetables for me? It's Spring time after all."

Castin groans some more. Nevertheless, he pushed himself off the armchair and did as he was told. He pecks his Ma on the cheek and leaves the house with a basket and a small gardening hoe. Clara watches him go with a small, sad smile before forcing herself to focus on her work - organising the recent intel that flew into the Gilded Honey last night.

In the forest, Castin did his best to gather as many vegetables and flowers for his mother as fast as possible. Although the weather wasn't as hot as yesterday, he didn't exactly enjoy toiling around in the dirt like this. His friends always laughed and ran away whenever their Ma's asked them to forage. They always claimed that it was a girl's job. That never fails to make him uncomfortable. He pushes that thought away as he harvests some wild onions and asparagus.

He huffs once the basket is full. Sweat dripping down his back and neck as he hoists it over his back. Instead of returning home, his heart is telling him to make a detour to the river. Cooling off and playing in the water for a bit sounds nice.

The river isn't too far ahead of where Castin is currently. It helps that he can follow the sound of rushing water in the distance.

When he emerges from the forest, he stops, utterly stupefied.

There, sitting underneath a billowing tree on a picnic blanket is the Goddess.

It's as if time itself has paused for Castin. His heart beats so fast, and it feels like he's been blown away. Is this how falling in love feels like!? Nothing in the world matters anymore except his sudden yearning for Her to acknowledge his existence. To bless him with her words and attention.

And blessed him She did.

A strong gust of wind whips Her golden curls. She delicately tucks a stray hair behind her ear and finally looks up from the book in Her hands. She glances aside and sees Castin standing still, covered in dirt and sweat.

Her eyes! Conquerer help him. There are a pair of ruby red with sunset hues. Not only that, the love and surprise that nestle behind them takes his breath away.

"Oh my... I guess it wasn't a dream after all." She muses. Even her voice is so enchanting, soft and melodic.

It takes an embarrassingly long while for Castin to find his voice again. "Are... are you Her? The Goddess?" He asks in a hush, reverently voice.

His question earns him the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. That says a lot because, before this, he thought it belonged to his Ma!

"I'm afraid not, darling. I'm just a woman waiting for her husband."

Castin's heart is instantly crushed. Stupid, stupid! Of course, someone as beautiful as her wouldn't be single... wouldn't want someone like Castin, all gangly limbs and insecurities. Great. Now he feels so awkward.

The Goddess - no, woman - pats on the empty space beside her. "Since my husband is taking his sweet time bringing what I requested, won't you be a dear and keep me company? A good book could only keep you occupied for so long."

And just like that, his heart beats like a racing rabbit once more. "Really!? I mean, yeah, sure! I-I love to!" Castin stammers, his eyes wide. However, self-consciousness starts to sink in. He fidgets and shyly asks, "Would... would it really be OK? I'm not exactly, uh, clean at the moment. Won't your husband get mad?"

The golden-haired woman raised an eyebrow. "Why would my husband be mad at the company I choose? That's not within his right. Besides, you're perfect just the way you are. Now, come. Sit with me."

P-Perfect!? Castin struggles not to scramble towards the woman like a rambunctious puppy. He carefully put aside the basket and gardening tool and eeked out a place for himself beside the woman. His posture is both stiff and eager.

Laid out before them is a variety of snacks and drinks, complete with a wicker basket on the side. There are even some Intacian books as well stacked nearby. The woman was probably having a date with her husband before Castin found her.

Castin's hand immediately reached for the pitcher of pink lemonade just as the woman was about to do the same. "H-Here! Let me. Um, please." He nervously poured a glass and handed it to her. She didn't accept it, which saddens him.

"Thank you but I wanted to pour a glass for you." The woman explains patiently, causing Castin to blush. "Your thoughtfulness never cease to amaze me, darling."

"Excuse me?" Castin squeaks, gripping the glass with a shaky hand. This is the second time she calls him 'darling'! Third time and he's going to faint. And what did she mean by his thoughtfulness!?

The woman just hums. She fishes out a handkerchief from the wicker basket. "Oh, nothing. It was just an observation. May I wipe your face? It's too pretty to have dirt clinging on to it."

It's official. Somehow Castin has died and went to heaven and is now being attended by an angel wearing a loose low-cut red dress. Her touches are just as gentle as her voice and yet meticulous. It's as if she's done this over and over before.

"There. Isn't that better? Feel free to eat anything that strikes your fancy. I'm partial to the cupcakes, truth be told. But, ah, where are my manners? My name is Celica Anesidora. Pleasure to meet you."

Wow. Even her name is magical!

"I-I'm Castin. Castin Hammer. I just... just didn't expect to meet someone like you today."

"Neither did I. Our meeting must be arranged by the Goddess."

"When you said it like that it sounds romantic, haha..." Castin'a laughter trails off. He clears his throat and quickly shoves a pastry into his mouth. Shit! That could've been much, much better! She's going to think that he's so uncool.

To his surprise, Celica agrees. "It does, doesn't it? Won't you tell me about yourself? Were you out foraging today?"

The tips of Castin's ears burn in embarrassment. "I was just out helping my Ma. That's all." He mumbles.

"That's very kind of you, Castin. You know... my husband does the same as well. You see, I have trouble with eating vegetables. It's a petty dislike that I can't seem to get rid of. My husband finds it funny. To help me with it, he would always harvest wild vegetables during Spring and cook me all sorts of Intacian dishes."

"Is your husband Intacian?" Castin couldn't help but ask. He needed to know. No Intacian man would do such a girlish task!

"Why, yes! The best of the best, he would boast. I would agree with him if it won't swell his already huge ego." Celica teases with a wink. Castin's heart skips a beat.

"How did the two of you met?"

"It was during our arranged marriage," Celica begins. She leans against the tree and folds her arms below her chest. Castin resolutely stares at her beautiful face, not any lower. "I am from an Imperial Noble House, and our friends thought that a marriage between two worlds would help stop the war."

Wait, wait, wait! First off, Celica is an Imp? What!? And she married an Intacian man in an effort to stop the war? The centuries-long war that's happening right now!?

Something's not adding up. This sort of thing would have the village in an uproar. Hell, her very presence would bring untold chaos! How in the world did no one know about Celica!?

And her Intacian husband had the gall to leave her unprotected like this!? Does he even love her!? Right. Castin is going to punch him in the face as soon as he returns from whatever errand Celica told him to do. Fuck it.

"That's insane! Do you know how dangerous it is? Sorry, this is? Look, your marriage is not doing anything for either of our countries because the Empire isn't going to stop trying to invade Intacia. Your husband shouldn't have leave you alone like this. What-what if something bad happens to you? If one of the villagers sees you? You're gonna get hurt, Celica!"

Much to Castin's bafflement, Celica continues to be at ease. "Do you think my husband doesn't love me, Castin?"

"Uh, yeah? Look, we're in the middle of a really, really bad political climate right now. I have no idea how you and your husband could keep your marriage a secret, but if word gets out that an Imperial and Intacian got hitched, It's going to be a witch hunt! Your friends are assholes for making you do this, and I know a thing or two about asshole-type friends. You don't deserve to be tied down by someone who's just using you like a... a tool!"

"Hmm. Would this be a bad time to admit that during our very first meeting, my husband humiliated me in public via lingerie as a gift?"

Castin immediately facepalms.

"Again, why did you married this asshole!?"

"Because I believe in my best friend, Castin. Because despite all odds, I fell in love with my husband once I realised he's more than just the mask he wore to protect himself." Celica firmly explains. "We can be more than just what our cultures deem is appropriate. It would be an absolute bore if every Intacian man were nothing more than a warrior with no interesting depth."

Castin pulls a face at that. "Is your husband more than just a warrior then? I mean, how great can one man really be?" Mentally, he spazzes out when Celica suddenly grabs hold of his chin, and Castin is very aware of how close she is. How bright her red lipstick is and how sweet she smells. Conquerer, give him strength!

"He's my other half. My funny man. My anchor. My morality compass at times. I won't have you demean him, darling." She purrs dangerously with those ruby eyes hardened as a diamond.

Welp. There it is. Castin can now die happy.

He gulps anxiously. "O-Oh yeah? What's his name, then? Warriors are practically celebrities around these parts."

"His name is - "

"Castin!" A voice rings in the forest. He whines when Celica lets go of him. She sits up primly and helps herself to a cup of tea. "Castin, honey, where are you? Did you played in the river again? You're late for lunch!"

Clara Hammer emerges from the tall bushes and into the scene. Her eyebrows climb higher and higher when she sees her son sheepishly sit with a woman who is in no way an Intacian due to her foreign appearance and perfectly schooled posture that screams nobility. Still, she rolls with it to lull this strange woman into a false sense of security.

"There you are, Cassy! Mama was looking aallll over for you!"

Her adorable boy ducks his head in embarrassment. "Maaaa... not in front of, Celica."

"Oh? Is that your new friend's name?" Clara beams, showing off her pearly white teeth, and sits beside her son without an invitation. The woman - Celica - pays it no mind. Huh. Most Nobles would be bristling at her lack of manners. "Hey there! I'm Clara Lilia Hammer; Castin's Mama. You must be new around here." She subtly catalogued everything intel she could glean from this stranger's appearance.

Those high cheekbones? Definitely from the Coastal Empire.

The revealing dress that looks like it's made out of satin and perfect posture? Definitely a Noblewoman.

The jewellery that drapes on her neck? Definitely screams wealth.

But that wedding ring... it supports an Intacian design. She married an Intacian? Now that's a plot twist! Who the heck is this woman?

Meanwhile, Celica slowly puts down her teacup. "In a... manner of speaking. I'm currently on a date with my husband before I met your son. He's a good company."

Castin couldn't help but preen. Ah, looks like her kiddo has a crush! Normally, Clara would tease and coo at how adorable Castin tries to look mature but her gut is telling her to be cautious with this woman. Something's not... right.

"I've raised this boy right!" Clara declares proudly and ruffles Castin's hair. He grumbles and bats her hand away. "Say, is your husband from the village? I might've seen him around. Actually, what did you said your name was?"

"I am Celica Anesidora, Madam. The current head and Baroness of the Anesidora Household." The Imperial woman introduced with a smirk. Purposefully ignoring Clara's first question.

Damn it. She's not familiar with the noble peerage of the Empire. Clara would have to immediately dig up anything she could find about this woman as soon as they were home.

"A Baroness! Wow. You're far from home, Your Grace." Clara comments. "Wonder why you choose Intacia to be your ideal destination for a date. Or marital prospect."

"I know right!?" Castin interjects, throwing his hands up in exasperation. He then turns to Celica, genuinely distressed. "I know you love your husband but I'm gonna have to, I-I don't know, talk some sense into him or something. He really shouldn't have leave you alone at least."

"But I'm not alone am I? Now I have the two of you to keep me safe until he eventually returns." Celica assures him, her lashes low and deeply amused. "Shall we move on to a more pleasant topic? How are the two of you on this fine day?"

Lunchtime for the Hammer is swapped with snacks and lemonade as the mother and son duo tries to uncover more about this mysterious Imperial Baroness. Every innocuous question is easily deflected by another; Celica seems to find it a game to keep the two on their toes.

The snacks are all gone, and the pitcher is empty. Still, Celica's equally mysterious Intacian husband fails to appear.

Castin didn't want to say it, so he tried to cajole Celica to wait for him at their house. Clara agrees on the principle of things. Besides, her son wasn't kidding when he insisted it was unsafe for a lone Imperial woman to be in a rural Intacian village.

"The two of you are immensely kind and generous. A credit to the House of Hammer. Rest assured that I will be alright. I thanked the Goddess for blessing me with the chance to meet the two of you." Celica Anesidora said in the end. "May we meet again one day."

Castin moves to convince the woman again, but Clara stops him with a hand on his shoulder. Perhaps the two of them aren't meant to linger here any longer. The air suddenly feels different. Books of old love to tell the tale of mortals crossing paths with fairies from another world. Who knows, Celica might actually be it.

"Then we'll take our leave." Clara isn't accustomed to bowing in the traditional Imperial way. Still, she did it out of politeness. "I guess we'll see you around, Baroness."

Her son is hesitant to leave. Already thinking about sneaking out to come here again, just in case. "Yeah... please be careful, OK?" I love you, is suddenly heavy on his tongue for some reason. Goddess, it'll be embarrassing if he blurts that out.

And with that, the Hammers left. Celica waves goodbye at him with her beautiful smile when Castin turns around. The two of them exit the forest soon enough.

Just as the Hammers return home, the adult Castin finally returns to his wife's side with a box of food that Ezekiel prepared. "Babe! I'm back! Did you missed me?"

"No." Celica grinned and accepted his kiss.

Castin pretends to gasp and clutch at his heart. "You're killing me here, sweetheart. You're killing your man. What? Are those books that good that they replaced me just like that?"

"Hmmm, no. In your absence, I was treated to a most delightful and unexpected company." Celica begins to explain. "I wonder if it was part of the Goddess' plan in the grand scheme of things... us meeting with our past selves."

"Wait, are you saying..."

"You are utterly adorable as a teenager, husband. You blush so easily! Your past self tries so hard to impress me, too. Sweet boy. I think I prefer that side of you."

"Aww, man. You're never gonna forget this, are you?"

Celica kisses her husband again, slow and sweet. "Never, Castin."

THE END!

[jamarrseternalsunshine]

about me <3: UPDATED

This about me is for the new people that followed me & want to know more about me :)

My name is Tina but y’all can call me Tee Tee (my tags on here are #jamarrseternalsunshine, #teeteepeeps, #teeteeaddresses, #teeteeanswers etc.)

I’m 23 and an August Leo

I’m White Asian and Hispanic

My tumblr name is basically referenced to Cincinnati Bengals WR1 Ja’Marr Chase with Ariana Grande’s song Eternal Sunshine off her latest album (btw F Dalton Gomez!)

I’m a Bengals & Team Breezy fan until my casket drops!

Anything else you want to ask about me, drop it in my inbox <3 

Who I Love:

Ja’Marr Chase:

Ja’Marr has been a part of my life since I was 19 years old. I’ve been a fan of his since his LSU era and broke down on the phone when I found out he was drafted by the Bengals.

He has interacted with me plenty of times through Instagram story views (idk if it counts as interactions or what not), 5 times through Twitch (the man knows my name for fucks sake and if you need proof, message me ;) ) 

I go into defensive mode about him, his family and people that he loves dearly (so if you’re on my page to disrespect him, know that disrespect towards anyone including my mutuals here on Tumblr will not be tolerated and will result in you being blocked <3)

Tee Higgins:

The story on this one is crazy as fuck but basically I have kind of a personal connection to him via my close friend in Tennessee who played football with him at Clemson. NO I did not meet Tee, nor have I spoken with him face to face and NO if I don’t like you or know you, I will not arrange for you to meet him end of story (only person that will get that connection is my girl @partywitbarbiee <3)

Tee’s a fucking sweetheart and I’m praying that his jellyfish loving headass doesn’t get traded anywhere (because I just got his jerseys in and I don’t wanna get new ones if he goes to another team!)

Andrei Iosivas: 

Andrei is a complete sweetheart! He’s interacted with me a few times through DM (no homewrecking shit just made an edit and he just so happened to see it and he said it was fire THATS IT) 

He’s from where I’m from and if you were to come to me and you go to his high school, his teachers will tell you what an absolute sweetheart he is!

WE ARE LOGAN HARLOCK STANS HERE (Logan’s Andrei’s longtime girlfriend that he met while he was in college)

CHIQUITAAAAA <3 (Joe Burrow):

This is my chiquita (baby girl, iykyk) Joe Burrow. 

Yes, he’s done things that are questionable in people’s eyes but at the end of the day… this is my pookie bears best friend, and my QB.

I didn’t see the hype until my friend in Cincinnati and @wickedfun9 really increased the hype and my love for him

Contrary to popular belief, Joe is an actual sweetheart. My friend (the one I told yall about who was my source) actually met him at Training Camp last year and she has pictures with him at previous games and told me he’s a sweetheart and very angelic (no I’m not a part of Joe’s PR so shush <3)

WHAT ISN’T ALLOWED ON MY PAGE:

ANY FORM OF DISRESPECT TOWARDS ME, MY FRIENDS, MY POOKIE BEAR, HIS BESTFRIEND ETC.

No slander whatsoever about anyone, keep it respectful or keep it the fuck pushing <3

SLANDER ABOUT PEOPLE’S KIDS (if you aint got kids take some tape and put it over your mouth because I will get really disrespectful and you won’t like what I have to say <3)

WHAT IS ALLOWED ON MY PAGE:

ANY FORM OF LOVE, RESPECT AND KINDNESS TO ANYONE THAT I LOVE AND WHO YOU INTERACT WITH HERE.

Fact checking (because even I need fact checking sometimes)

Y’all asking about me and what I like doing

Compliments to my page (because my only priority for this page to be a refresh for people coming into the sports world)

[matan4il]

DID YOU SEE MILEAPO WITH MAMA ROM??? ❤️

Awwwwww, hi lovely Nonnie! :D Thank you for thinking of me! <3

YES! I DID! AND OF COURSE I SCREAMED SO MUCH! You could tell that for the most part, there were two groups there, the group of her and her boys on one side, talking and laughing together, while the other BOC people were in another group, standing pretty close, but still completely separate from them. The three of them just gave me SUCH a family vibe! :')

And then there's the fact that she also commented on Mileapo Official's post with pics from this:

SHE IS BEING LOUD. Much like her son in law. ;)

Because not only did we get to see Mile's mom with both of them, she was actually coming back from a trip to Japan, which means that she had to TIME IT to make sure she gets to see them before they fly off to Saudi Arabia. It was evident it was pre-arranged, she left a comment beforehand telling Mile she will see him. So yeah, they compared schedules, and I guess she made her plans so she gets to see both before they leave...

And I think there's something in the dynamic there, which changed relatively recently. Because for whatever reason, they kept a certain distance publicly, with her not officially following Apo, and vice versa, even when it was clear they were close. I'm sure unofficially, they regularly checked out each other's accounts. Fuck it, Mile's mom was following Mileapo Official before she followed Apo, does anyone think she wasn't also looking at the "source material"? But now suddenly, Mile's mom uploads a pic from the Man Suang premeiere, which she cropped to leave out her son's other colleagues, only including her family and Apo. Now suddenly, Apo and Mile's mom follow each other publicly. Now suddenly, she doesn't hesitate to obviously make an effort to meet both of them out in public, and where they all know that the encounter will be captured on film. I might be completely wrong, but it feels significant. And I'd jokingly say Mile's mom is letting her son know that if he doesn't marry Apo, she will. XD

Thank you again for the ask! I apologize, you might have seen my personal update on my housing issues following the war. I've found a solution, but it left me a bit drained of time and energy, so I couldn't make Mileapo posts. And I would love to catch up, but IDK if there's anything that hasn't been posted (I do not have the resources to check), nor if there's an interest in it. Just know I'm still following and loving them, even on days when I can't post! And that I'm grateful you came to scream with me about Mileapo! :D There's nothing I love more than screaming together over how relationship goal they are (whatever their r/s). Sending you lots of hugs and love! xoxox

(if you wanna check out my Kinnporsche/Mileapo posts, click here)

[shiroandblack]

I actually really wonder how Fingolfin and Anairë got together. Because we get details about Fëanor and Nerdanel, and to me it's a little easier to imagine how Finarfin and Eärwen met.

But Fingolfin and Anairë was just a blind spot for me and I didn't really come up with anything until now.

So basically my headcanon now is that they were competitive debate rivals.

It all starts one day during the finals of a debating competition (because looking at the Noldor, debating seems like something they would enjoy. Also, picking on people's arguments and tearing it down like their hopes and dreams is a craft in itself). I think Fingolfin would prefer being the Opposition, because while his actions are motivated by his own ambition a lot of his actions are also reactions to Fëanor's actions. Opposition of course, have their own arguments to bring it but they also rebuke the Government's arguments (the Government being the team who is arguing for whatever motion is presented).

So Fingolfin feels like he's doing great, he's the first speaker of the Opposition (whereas Anairë is the second speaker of the Government) and he is absolutely ready to tear apart her partner's arguments. So he does what he's good at, destroying people's opinions of something into itty bitty pieces and razing his opponent's confidence until it is just ashes (like Fëanor's corpse when he died).

That is until it's Anairë's turn to speak. And Anairë basically drags his argument through the mud. She destroys the philosophy behind his argument, completely dismissing his stance, and moreover she proves to the jury that Fingolfin's burden of proof is basically 0.

And Fingolfin is just seething. But because he's the king of restraint, he sits there with an amicable expression and hopes that one of Fëanor's inventions will malfunction and blow up in Anairë's face somehow.

He embarrassingly, gets second place.

And it is a fucking embarrassment because Fëanor airs out his loss during the family dinner that week and Fingolfin becomes ever determined to crush Anairë so badly she can never rise from the ashes of her defeat.

So Fingolfin is practicing so hard, he's going through different kinds of motions, different ways to frame his argument better, and ways to ensure his arguments are without any exploitable loopholes.

Enter Fëanor, who is like "I am going to help you because you embarrassed us as a family, the House of Finwë does not ever get second place". Basically, he's trying to help his brother because Nerdanel put him up to it (but she didn't even need to push hard at all) and because he also genuinely believes that whatever mongrel Indis is, his father is the superior creature and Fingolfin being Finwë's son means that he is an extension of that superior creature and must act accordingly.

So Fingolfin and Fëanor plot and practice. Fingolfin actually has a really good time, and Fëanor does too but he'd rather die than admit it.

So the day comes, and Fingolfin's feeling confident.

Only to lose once again.

This time it's Fëanor who's fucking livid, and he tells Fingolfin that during the next competition he will be Fingolfin's partner because obviously Fingolfin's teammate is shit if despite everything Fingolfin couldn't beat Anairë.

So again, the two boys practice. While their practicing, Fëanor decides to do a little background check on Anairë via his friends at Mahtan because she shouldn't be that good. She must be doing some kind of sorcery.

But nope. Anairë comes from a pretty well-off family, she's not common born like Nerdanel but she's also not high nobility. She's somewhere in the middle, with her family being of high enough social status to have access to private galas and balls but not high enough to meet Finwë on the regular. Oh, and her father made a fortune from breeding sheep. In fact, Míriel used to source the raw materials for her yarn from Anairë's family and that Anairë has a pet rabbit called Ball-Snow.

Fingolfin doesn't want to know how Fëanor found out about all that. It's pretty creepy honestly, but he does say yes to finding out how Anairë builds up her cases. And during this time, he starts noticing details about Anairë. Like how her dark hair shines silver under Telperion and how she has dimples when she smiles.

One day the two brothers basically stalk Anairë at the library, and act like fantastic creeps in general. These two are not subtle at all, so Anairë catches them quite early on. Turns out she's with a friend, who is to be her partner for the next competition. Eärwen of Alqualondë. Naturally, Fingolfin and Fëanor can't continue to be creeps around a princess because that would be a diplomatic crisis.

So their stalking amounts to nothing.

Come the debate competition. Fingolfin and Fëanor actually win. Fëanor is pleased, so whatever truce between the two is now broken.

Fingolfin is high on victory when he overhears Anairë talking to Eärwen, and she basically says that she lost on purpose because she could see how it was driving Fingolfin crazy to keep losing and she felt bad. So it was basically condescending pity.

Fingolfin bursts into the conversation. Eärwen, sensing this is gonna be a shitty argument sees Finarfin and is like "Let's climb over a wall" and Finarfin, because his longtime crush is talking to him is like "Sure!".

They argue. For a very long time. Fingolfin says shit like "I don't need your pity" and how he could take Anairë any day, any time. Anairë is like "yeah, you do" because Fingolfin has basically not been sleeping or functioning like a normal elf because he's just so obsessed with beating Anairë.

The argument continues and Fingolfin basically outs himself. He's like "I can't focus because of your stupid smile while I'm presenting my argument" or some cheesy shit like that and Anairë's like "great, because I can't focus whenever I look at your shitty face. I feel like I'm gonna falter"

So the two are left with a dilemma. Hmm.

Naturally, Fingolfin tries to talk to his dad about his crush on his rival and Finwë is just like "I don't know, I just knew that we were meant to be". And Fingolfin is kinda like, what kind of ass-tastic bullshit is that?

So he goes to talk to Fëanor, the only other guy he knows that is married. And Fëanor proves to be equally unhelpful because "Nerdanel was the one who started making moves and I liked it".

So Fingolfin starts sending Anairë gifts out of spite. It's her begetting day? She gets a full collection of Master Rúmil's dissertation on the inherent prey vs predator nature of every living creature. She won another round of debate? She gets a nice bracelet.

Eventually, Anairë sits the dumb guy down and asks if he's seriously considering courting her and lists all the reasons why courting her is the best option possible for someone like him. She basically presents it like it's her thesis defence.

Some years later, there's a wedding and Fëanor is unhappy because Fingolfin married his mortal enemy.

So the moral of the story is this kids: if you can't beat your enemies, marry 'em!

[redundant2]

Thursday must be tea day

From SecondhandCoke on Reddit who allegedly has a relative who is connected to Netflix:

"Okay I have some tea. This is all gossip, but it makes other rumors make sense, AND it feeds into something that everyone is pretty sure is Meghan is trying to make happen.

So allegedly, Meghan is not invited and will not be attending the coronation. I still hear mixed reports about Harry.

Remember the reconciliation meetings with the Royal Family that were rumored? That was Sussex Spin on the fact that PaPaChuck3 has called for an audience with Harry. It's NOT, though, as they'd like us to think, some kind of reconciliation and apology. Meghan is not invited. If she comes she will not be given audience. The children will always be given audience, but she will never be given the honor of another personal audience with the King ever again in her life.

Anyway, Chuck summoned Harry to talk about whether or not Harry would have a role in the coronation and the fact that obviously his ceremonial role to swear fealty to the crown has been undermined by the book, the Netflix show, the book tour interviews, et al. I heard from my source in LA (because Meghan is a fucking sieve and keeps nothing private), that the King has said that the Royal Family will not be apologizing for anything, not now, not ever, and certainly not publicly. On the contrary Harry would have to publicly apologize and recant the litany of irrefutable lies to play the small ducal role played by the peerage in the coronation ceremony....

Now here's the thing: my source texted this to me today....

Source: Check IMDB about the coronation. Then check MM unforgiven.

Me: What in the fuck is this?

........Here is the condensed version of what the fuck a lot of people think this is. Again this is rumor, but it's compelling rumor:

Charles has refused to apologize for anything. On the contrary he has demanded that Harry publicly recant and apologize. He isn't even asking for Meghan to because she won't and even if she did, she'd never have access to the family again anyway.

This is the provocation for Meghan's latest tell-all "Unforgiven." It's a documentary short telling "Meghan's story..." again... probably a new one. To my knowledge, a network hasn't picked it up yet.

On the actual Coronation IMDB, only Archie and Lily are listed. This makes me wonder three things:

Are Merchie and Lilibucks on there just because Meghan added them herself? Seems like the palace would keep their IMBD locked down so Boaty McBoatface doesn't end up on there (and Boaty SHOULD be on there.) Sinners who've been watching IMDB, have the Marklets always been listed? Have Ginge and Cringe ever been listed and taken down? Anyway maybe the Sussexlets have been added without any proper permission.

Why is Prince Harry neither on the Coronation nor Unforgiven? Is he on the verge on apology to his family? Is that why his children are listed on IMDB but not him. He hasn't decided?

Unforgiven is said to be coming out on January 23 (or in January of 2023). That's fast. Is that what she's been doing? No network looks poised to air it. What's she going to do, upload it to Insta or YouTube? Will it tell new lies about palace racism, like that Meghan was forced to dress as a maid? MOST importantly, why is this coming out so fast? Is it because Harry is going to apologize and she wants to get out on front, say he is being coerced and that the mistreatment has made his abuse and addiction issues "almost unsurvivable" and so she is announcing their DIVORCE? Is it coming out so fast because she wants to drop a load of mud about the palace because they are getting ready to drop their dossier on her?

I don't know, but I know this: narcissists are like toddlers and when toddlers are quiet, they are getting ready to create a huge mess. Meghan's a narc who's been too quiet for too long. What kind of mess can we next expect?"

[myinconnelly1]

Nameless Need Part 4- Date

Masterlist

W/c: 961

Summary: Selena 'Lena' Allen convinces her neighbor, Adam, to pretend to be her boyfriend so that a Stalker will leave her alone. Things get a little out of hand after that.

Warnings: Injury, taking out your own stiches - Really bad idea btw; cuteness, slow burn, horniness

“Adam, it’s Lena,”  She called as she knocked on his apartment door.  “answer the door Sackler, I know you haven’t changed the bandage since the last time I was here.”

“It’s not a good time,” Adam called back suspiciously.  “I’m busy, ow, fuck.”

“Oh no, tell me you are not pulling those stiches out yourself,”  Lena shoved the door.  “Adam let me in.”  The door opened with a squeak.  “What the fuck?” She asked as she looked at him sitting in just his jeans on his couch with a box cutter.

“They itch, Doc said they could come out this week.”  He shrugged without looking up at her.

“You’re a fucking idiot.  He said you could go see him this week and get them taken out.  You are not a health care professional.”  Adam opened his mouth to speak but Lena held a finger up at him and gave him a stern look.  “And don’t say you play one on TV!”

“I wasn’t I swear.  But you know, you’re a health care professional.”  He said with cute puppy dog eyes as he held out the box cutter.  Lena huffed out a tired laugh as she rubbed her hand down her face.

“You know it’s a good thing you’re cute, Sackler.  Come on, I can’t do anything without the right tools, and light.”  She agreed begrudgingly.  It would only be worse if she left him alone.

“So, you think I’m cute, kid?”  Adam smirked at her as he stood up.  Lena felt her stomach lurch forward as his jeans fell dangerously low on his hips and it took everything within her not to lick her lips.

“Whatever,” Lena said in her most sarcastic tone.  She led him across the hall to her apartment and let them both in.  She grabbed a first aid kit and brought a light source to her counter.

“You’re kinda good at this,”  Adam said as she started to clean the area and started to cut out the stiches.

“You better be buying me dinner.  I also get paid for my work.  And this is over-time, so it better be something tasty.”  She said focusing on her work.  Adam used his other hand and brushed her bangs from her face so she could see better.

He would be lying to himself if he said that was the reason.  He had been thinking of an excuse for two weeks now for a reason to touch her.  Her hair looked so soft, and he wanted to feel it as he curled his fingers in it.  But they weren’t there yet. Hell, they were only friends, even what he was doing now was pushing the line.

“Pizza?  I know a good place that’s not far from here.”  He offered.  “Ow!”

“Sorry,”  Lena said softly looking up at him.  God, he wanted her to look up at him like that with his cock in her mouth.  He couldn’t let on that the reason he needed the stiches out was because he couldn’t jerk off because of them.  He was so horny that an old lady had called him a nice boy and he had almost fucking whimpered in the supermarket.

He needed to get laid, and while that had never been a problem for him before, it felt wrong.  He didn’t want to dwell on the fact that it had started when he met Lena. And he often told himself that it was because he didn’t want word of his escapades to reach her coworker.  But even that was not completely true.

“All done,”  Lena wiped sweat off her forehead then went and cleaned herself up.  “Are you going to go to dinner without a shirt on?”  She asked, checking him out jokingly.

“How about you change into something nice but comfortable and we can get pizza and some fresh air.  I’m going crazy cooped up in that apartment anyway.  Wear good shoes,”  He said before rushing to her door to get a shirt on.

Lena went to her closet and started going through it to figure out what she was going to wear.   It took her three searches through her closet before she settled on jeans and a cute top that Amber had suggested she get.

“You clean up nice, kid,”  Adam said to cover for the fact that he almost had the air stolen from his lungs at the sight of her.

“Not bad yourself, Sackler.”  She grinned prettily as they walked downstairs.  They enjoyed their pizza, nice conversations, silly teasing, and general innuendo helped pass their time.  He took her for a walk through a garden, looking for any excuse to touch her.  He even grabbed her hand to pull her away from oncoming traffic.  Lena gave him a look after a poorly covered attempt to put his arm around her waist, and Adam thought she might have been on to his game, but she simply teased him about being a handsy neighbor and they finished their night very late.

It was almost 3 am when Adam walked Lena up to her apartment door.

“I had a really nice time tonight,”  Lena said, albeit a little sleepy.  “Thanks for being a good friend and taking me out.”

“Thanks for being a good neighbor and helping me with my arm,”  Adam grinned.  “Go to bed sleepy head.”

Lena got up on her tip toes and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks for being there, when I needed you too,”  She said as she held his shoulder to keep from falling.

Adam couldn’t help himself.  He’d been too pent up, or it had been her sweet smile.  Whatever the excuse was he couldn’t help himself.

He reached out with his hand to cup her cheek and kissed her.

[witch128chick]

Guys it's time for the episode that i hold so close to my heart

Escaping Expulsion

This episode means a lot to me. It's about gaining back some sense of control over your own life and my journey with that is just awful as Amity's (if i can say that)

So what if we start shall we?

Odalia talking to Amity through that necklace is basically the metaphor (???) of your authority figure's voice in your head. It still haunts me to this day even tho i can make my own decisions. But that doesn't mean my mom's voice isn't echoing in my head making me reconsider every single decision i make like a hundred times and the only thing that seems to help is to convince myself that she's aware that i'm an adult and even if she doesn't like what i do she can't really do anything about it. (It's true for the most part at least)

(Sorry for the rant i'll do it again)

I don't really think this needs an explanation

I mean bitch you expect your daughter to get beaten up by your mechas and she didn't even say anything until now, she was putting up with it. Give her a damn break

I'm so proud of her 😭 look at her be so happy to teach Eda and Lilith everything she knows!

Silly billies T_T i love them

Okay.. okay i'll tell my story relating to this. I'm not gonna go into detail but i had this massive crush on a guy in 7th grade (he was in the graduating class so basically 6 years older than me and i have sm respect for him now that he didn't do anything and just ignored me or was nice when he had to be instead of using my naivety and teenage crush) anyway we were both in the school choir (yes i joined bc i figured he was there too..) and there was like a little gathering for the whole choir before graduation and we could bring a flower to someone who would graduate that year if we wanted to. And... yes i bought a fucking flower and gave it to him. (Almost didn't but i was like "fuck it imma do it if i prepared sm) AND YOU CAN'T TELL ME THIS ISN'T THE EXACT SAME SITUATION!!! bc it is. So Amity, darling, ik what you're going through

(Side note: i had to learn that my past crushes don't invalidate the fact that i identity as a lesbian now. Yes i thought i was straight and no i didn't really have any source i could inform myself about being gay. But now that ik i am, it scares the living shit out of me but we have a saying here: "hope dies last" so yea i hope everything will be fine)

This whole scene is painful. Amity is DREADING her mom and omg- WHAT DID YOU PUT THAT CHILD THROUGH

Yes Luz me too

"Life is just so dull without them!" *everyone after the show ended*

But wdym it ended...? We're only at the beginning of s2!!!

She's come a long way and she's just STARTED

Iconic quoteeee 😭🤌🏼

Not much is left but i'm not finished yet! So check back in a few minutes if you want

[houseofbrat]

Hi:

https://www.reddit.com/r/SaintMeghanMarkle/ comments/10gf8ma/could_this_all_be_preemptive/ j52q7fj/

Thoughts?

https://www.reddit.com/r/SaintMeghanMarkle/comments/10gf8ma/could_this_all_be_preemptive/

More importantly, this is some of the gossip roaming around Hollywood:

Okay I have some tea.  This is all gossip, but it makes other rumors make sense, AND it feeds into something that everyone is pretty sure is Meghan is trying to make happen.

So allegedly, Meghan is not invited and will not be attending the coronation. I still hear mixed reports about Harry.

Remember the reconciliation meetings with the Royal Family that were rumored? That was Sussex Spin on the fact that PaPaChuck3 has called for an audience with Harry. It's NOT, though, as they'd like us to think, some kind of reconciliation and apology. Meghan is not invited. If she comes she will not be given audience. The children will always be given audience, but she will never be given the honor of another personal audience with the King ever again in her life.

Anyway, Chuck summoned Harry to talk about whether or not Harry would have a role in the coronation and the fact that obviously his ceremonial role to swear fealty to the crown has been undermined by the book, the Netflix show, the book tour interviews, et al.  I heard from my source in LA (because Meghan is a fucking sieve and keeps nothing private), that the King has said that the Royal Family will not be apologizing for anything, not now, not ever, and certainly not publicly. On the contrary Harry would have to publicly apologize and recant the litany of irrefutable lies to play the small ducal role played by the peerage in the coronation ceremony....

Now here's the thing: my source texted this to me today....

Source: Check IMDB about the coronation. Then check MM unforgiven.

Me:  What in the fuck is this?

........Here is the condensed version of what the fuck a lot of people think this is. Again this is rumor, but it's compelling rumor:

Charles has refused to apologize for anything. On the contrary he has demanded that Harry publicly recant and apologize. He isn't even asking for Meghan to because she won't and even if she did, she'd never have access to the family again anyway.

This is the provocation for Meghan's latest tell-all "Unforgiven." It's a documentary short telling "Meghan's story..." again... probably a new one. To my knowledge, a network hasn't picked it up yet.

On the actual Coronation IMDB, only Archie and Lily are listed. This makes me wonder three things:

Are Merchie and Lilibucks on there just because Meghan added them herself? Seems like the palace would keep their IMBD locked down so Boaty McBoatface doesn't end up on there (and Boaty SHOULD be on there.) Sinners who've been watching IMDB, have the Marklets always been listed? Have Ginge and Cringe ever been listed and taken down? Anyway maybe the Sussexlets have been added without any proper permission.

Why is Prince Harry neither on the Coronation nor Unforgiven? Is he on the verge on apology to his family? Is that why his children are listed on IMDB but not him.  He hasn't decided?

Unforgiven is said to be coming out on January 23 (or in January of 2023).  That's fast. Is that what she's been doing? No network looks poised to air it. What's she going to do, upload it to Insta or YouTube? Will it tell new lies about palace racism, like that Meghan was forced to dress as a maid? MOST importantly, why is this coming out so fast? Is it because Harry is going to apologize and she wants to get out on front, say he is being coerced and that the mistreatment has made his abuse and addiction issues "almost unsurvivable" and so she is announcing their DIVORCE?  Is it coming out so fast because she wants to drop a load of mud about the palace because they are getting ready to drop their dossier on her?

I don't know, but I know this: narcissists are like toddlers and when toddlers are quiet, they are getting ready to create a huge mess. Meghan's a narc who's been too quiet for too long. What kind of mess can we next expect?

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Gee, perhaps Meghan IS getting ready to announce she’s divorcing Harry.