#I hope I wasn't imagining that moment between the 2 of them

[xyywrites]

Heya @quiven! Yes this is a tricky thing to write about.

(for me personally, the hardest things to write are the simplest, mundane, everyday occurrences) Depending on the context this is how you could write silence,

1. A minute passed. Then five. No reply from the other side.

So quiet it was almost unnatural—as if the universe had swallowed every last sound, leaving only a void of unspoken secrets. At this point she wasn't sure what she was waiting for anyways. An apology? A confession? A whisper of hope? All the while, she could hear the tic-tic-tic of the clock, the distant laughter of children playing outside, the hum of traffic. Yet the sound she most longed to hear was.....

(I imagined the woman holding a corded landline phone here, old times, maybe she's a school teacher)

2. The air grew thick with the things unsaid. As if they were both afraid. Afraid of what they might bring into existence by naming that delicate, unspoken longing that hovered between them.

3. His silence was a bruise. Purple. Tender. And she kept pressing it to check if it still hurt.

4. They didn't speak. They didn't have to. Spending years in each others' company, they could read even the slightest shifts in expression. How a twitch of an eyebrow meant annoyance, how ....

5. He froze mid-sentence, words caught in his throat, choking him.

6. The phone rang, unanswered. One ring, two ring, three—by the fourth—even the quiet had grown teeth.

7. He’d always hummed while he worked. A habit she'd always found annoying. But now she missed it.

9. She’d always hated quiet. It gave her thoughts too much room to scream.

10. .....Each breath felt like swallowing glass, sharp with the truth they’d rather bleed out than speak.

Silence isn’t passive. It’s a loaded moment — a held breath, a coiled spring, a grenade with the pin pulled. Give it purpose. Is it awkward? Heavy? Comfortable? Threatening?

The context matters. The context guides the imagery.

(this was a comment on my post: The power of Silence in Dialogue)

[bedlam-barbie]

Out of control

Or Attention part 3

Pairing: In Ho x recruiter!reader ; slight salesman x recruiter!reader for the plot

Warnings: canon accurate violence; gun; fights; hurt and comfort,some suggestive language, VIPs being disgusting,  reader has BPD, mentions of mental illness

Word count: 4.2k

Author’s note: well, somehow what was meant to be a 2 part shot, became a small series, I hope max 5 parts. The more I write, the more I’m eating up this love triangle… Please let me know your thoughts and opinions, also please reblog if you enjoyed!

Part 1 Part 2

Silence draped over them like a heavy blanket, but for the first time in what felt like forever, it wasn't suffocating. There was no pressure to break it, no unsaid words clawing at the edges of their breath. Yet a stubborn part of her still burned—aching to scream at him, to demand that he care.

But she knew he did.

Maybe not as fiercely, not as openly as he once had, but the tenderness lingered in places he thought he'd hidden well. She saw it. Felt it. And that truth, fragile yet unspoken, was enough to still her restless heart.

When he finally turned to walk away, back toward the sea of masked strangers, she let him go. He hesitated for just a second, casting one last look her way before slipping the mask back onto his face.

Was that yearning in his eyes?

Her chest clenched at the thought. Did she dare believe he loved her?

Perhaps in another life, she thought bitterly, we could have been happy.

She let herself dream for a fleeting, reckless moment. 

In that imagined world, he was a celebrated detective, proud and upright, and she his beautiful, devoted wife. They had two children—a boy with curious eyes and a girl who laughed like sunshine. Their home was a charming white house on the outskirts of Seoul, with wide windows, a flourishing garden, and a bright red door.

Her days were filled with joy—cooking vibrant meals from cultures near and far, laughing as flour dusted her apron, guiding tiny hands through math problems. And when evening came, In Ho would return, his face lit with warmth, arms full of peonies just because he loved to see her smile.

After the children had been tucked into bed, they would sway together in the kitchen under the soft glow of the lights, the hum of the world fading away as they danced slowly, quietly, as though time itself belonged to them.

But dreams are fragile things. And hers shattered the moment the mask clicked back into place. Hwang In Ho was gone. What remained was only the Frontman—cold, impenetrable, and unreachable. She downed the last of her drink, forcing the bitter thought from her mind. She'd never been the kind of woman to dream of white picket fences, a loving husband, or children with wide, innocent eyes. In truth, she wasn’t even sure she wanted children at all.

And why would she?

To pass on her tangled mess of generational trauma? Her genetic curse of addiction? Her restless, fractured mind that teetered between darkness and ruin? No. It was better not to bring life into a world that already carried too much weight.

Even if some desperate part of her entertained the fantasy—who would she have them with?

The Frontman? Cold, hardened, and unreachable, carved out of stoicism like a statue of a forgotten god. The lives they lived were dangerous, unstable, always teetering on the brink of disaster. A family with him was impossible.

The Salesman?

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh at the absurdity of the thought. As if that manipulative charmer, who peddled temptations with a devilish grin, could ever love anyone beyond himself.

No, the truth was simple. Children were weaknesses, liabilities. And in their world, weaknesses got you killed.

Better to let the fantasy die before it took root. She glided back into the ballroom with practiced elegance, adjusting her mask until it sat perfectly on her face. Her sharp eyes scanned the room until they landed on Gong Yoo, effortlessly charming a small cluster of VIPs. Without missing a beat, she slipped beside him, her presence as deliberate as a choreographed step.

“There you are,” he said smoothly, his hand naturally settling on the small of her back. “Gentlemen, may I present my fellow recruiter.”

The woman offered a smile as radiant as it was dangerous. “A pleasure to meet you,” she said with a teasing lilt, “I’m the dancer—but you can call me the woman of your dreams.”

The innocence of her smile was betrayed by the spark of mischief in her eyes, a contrast that never failed to captivate. One of the men, hidden behind an ornate golden mask, took her hand with a flourish, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles.

Her stomach twisted in revulsion, but her practiced mask remained intact. She was an expert at charming men who fancied themselves powerful, coaxing them into foolish investments—none more absurd than the deadly games they funded.

“The pleasure is all mine,” the man said, his gaze shamelessly lingering on her body, especially her chest. “My, my—you truly are a beauty.”

The Salesman's lips curled into an amused smirk. “Careful with this one,” he warned lightly. “She bites.”

“Good thing that’s how I like my women—feisty,” the man quipped, earning a chorus of laughter from the group. She laughed along, the sound as polished and disarming as glass champagne flutes clinking together. 

The question hung in the air, sharp and shameless:

“So tell us, Dancer. How exactly do you get those fools to join the games? Are you a stripper?”

Hunger dripped from his words, vile and brazen.

For a split second, she imagined slamming his face into the marble floor, painting it red with his arrogance. Her fingers itched to draw the dagger strapped against her thigh and gut him like a pig. But instead, she laughed—a sweet, melodic giggle that masked the storm beneath her composed exterior.

Little do you know, asshole.

Beside her, she felt Gong Yoo stiffen, his polished facade slipping just enough for her to notice the tension in his hand as it gripped her back firmly. The silent message was clear: Easy, darling. Not here. Wait until he’s leaving.

She tilted her head, her voice honeyed and playful. “Oh, Sir, you flatter me,” she teased, feigning embarrassment. “You’ve got me blushing.”

The men laughed, oblivious.

She leaned in slightly, keeping their attention hooked. “Unfortunately, no—I’m not a stripper,” she continued smoothly. “My job’s a little more... subtle. I usually find them in clubs or bars. Get them talking, loosen them up a bit.” She gestured toward Gong Yoo with a mischievous smile. “And then, as my associate here so brilliantly does, I lure them outside and invite them to a friendly game of ddakji.”

Her eyes sparkled with faux amusement as she leaned closer, dropping her voice conspiratorially. “Have you ever seen a drunk man stumbling to slap tiles in an alleyway? Truly—something for the books.”

The men roared with laughter, exactly as she knew they would. They were drunk on ego, money, and the illusion of control.Suddenly, the music faded, replaced by the delicate chiming of a champagne flute as Il Nam tapped it slowly, commanding the room’s attention.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he began, his voice smooth and confident. “Welcome. I trust tonight’s festivities have been to your liking.”

From his elevated position on the grand balcony, Il Nam surveyed the sea of masked guests below. Flanking him were the ever-imposing Frontman and the Officer, their dark figures contrasting against the elegance of the scene.

His words flowed with deliberate grace, each syllable resonating with authority. “As some of you are aware, this year marks my final year as host of the Squid Games. These past thirty-three years have been nothing short of extraordinary.” He paused, allowing a wave of applause to sweep through the room. “None of this would have been possible without each and every one of you.”

The crowd clapped, their masked faces turned toward the enigmatic figure above.

Il Nam lifted a hand, signaling for silence as he continued. “With that, I am honored to announce that I have chosen my successor.” He gestured subtly toward the stoic figure beside him. “Our Frontman, who has dedicated himself entirely to the Games for the past five years, will now take my place. For his unwavering commitment and loyalty, I am eternally grateful.”

He raised his champagne flute with a celebratory flourish. “Join me in honoring our new host.” His gaze softened as he turned toward the Frontman. “You have truly exceeded my expectations.” The ballroom echoed with the sound of clinking glasses and polite applause.

From below, the dancer's eyes remained fixed on In Ho. Despite herself, a warmth bloomed in her chest—pride, quiet and undeniable. She wanted to be indifferent, detached, to mask any trace of emotion.But she couldn’t. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the Salesman watching her, his lips curled into a knowing smirk. Glass in hand, he acted as though the unfolding scene was some private performance meant for his amusement.

“Careful,” he murmured in her ear. “That heart of yours might start showing.”

Before she could respond, chaos erupted.

Gunshots shattered the air, sharp and deafening. Screams rippled through the ballroom as panic took hold. The scent of gunpowder mingled with the metallic tang of fear.

The woman’s eyes darted through the crowd, scanning for the source. A group of masked infiltrators surged forward, pulling weapons from concealed places beneath tuxedos and dresses. They moved with brutal efficiency, shoving some VIPs to the ground and holding others at gunpoint.

Pandemonium spread like wildfire. Guests in glittering masks tripped over one another in a desperate rush toward the exits. Blood splattered across marble floors, staining the opulence with horror.

The Salesman cursed under his breath, his carefree smirk gone. “Shit,” he hissed, stepping closer to her. “Stay down.”

But she didn’t listen.

A cold, determined calm washed over her as instinct took control. There was no time for fear—only action.

An infiltrator broke from the pack, rushing toward a frightened VIP who cowered behind an overturned table. Without hesitation, the dancer intercepted him, moving like liquid steel.

She pivoted sharply on her heel, her hand snapping out to disarm him in one swift motion. The gun clattered to the floor as she drove her knee into his stomach, doubling him over with a strangled gasp. She followed up with a brutal elbow to the side of his head, knocking him unconscious.

Gong Yoo watched, his usual bravado replaced by genuine concern. "You've gotta be kidding me," he muttered, eyes flicking between her and the armed assailants still swarming the room.

A second infiltrator lunged at her from behind, blade glinting under the flickering lights. She sensed him before he made contact, twisting just in time to catch his wrist. The knife hovered dangerously close to her throat, but she remained unyielding, twisting his arm until a sickening crack echoed through the room. He screamed as she drove him to the ground, kicking the blade out of reach.

Nearby, the Frontman stood rigid, his mask unreadable but his body tense. For years, he had seen countless brutal fights—but watching her now, there was something unsettling about the recklessness with which she fought.

She's going to get herself killed.

The thought gnawed at him as he moved toward the fray, signaling for security reinforcements.

Three more attackers circled her, weapons drawn. The Salesman swore loudly. “Damn it, woman, what are you doing?!”

She didn’t flinch. Instead, she smirked, blood smeared across her knuckles.

"Just having a little fun," she quipped before launching herself at the nearest assailant.

The ballroom became a blur of violence—the dancer ducking, striking, and twisting with brutal precision. One attacker swung wildly; she slipped beneath the blow and retaliated with a savage uppercut that sent teeth flying. Another charged with a gun, but she was faster, closing the distance and slamming his head into a pillar with a bone-crunching thud.

Behind her, the Salesman clenched his jaw. He hated admitting it, but he was worried. Not just impressed—worried.

In Ho, still commanding the scene, issued curt orders to secure the VIPs. Yet his eyes never fully left her.

The woman moved like a force of nature—unrelenting, fierce, and terrifyingly beautiful in her defiance. But no matter how skilled she was, the odds were shifting. More infiltrators were pushing into the ballroom.

The Salesman cursed again. "She's gonna get herself killed out there," he growled, shoving past the chaos toward her.

He moved—a shadow determined to protect the woman who seemed hell-bent on proving she didn’t need saving.A tall attacker rushed toward her with wild desperation, swinging a crowbar. She sidestepped with a dancer’s grace, her footwork precise as she spun behind him. With a fierce kick to the back of his knee, he crumpled, dropping the weapon. She finished him off with a brutal punch that cracked his jaw.

Before she could catch her breath, a voice called out smoothly from behind:

“Darling, I couldn’t let you have all the fun.”

Gong Yoo stepped into the fray, shedding his usual air of nonchalance for something sharper, deadlier. His burgundy tuxedo was immaculate despite the chaos, though his eyes gleamed with amusement and danger alike.

An attacker lunged at him, and Gong Yoo barely flinched, grabbing the man by the collar and delivering a calculated blow to his temple. The assailant crumpled instantly. He dusted off his sleeve with mock elegance, smirking.

“You make it look easy,” she quipped, her voice breathless but steady.

“That’s because it is, darling.” He winked before turning to face two more assailants charging their way.

Together, they moved like a deadly duet. She dodged a wild swing, landing a bone-crunching kick to one man’s ribs, while Gong Yoo disarmed the other with a disarmingly smooth twist of the wrist before delivering a vicious uppercut.

Blood painted the marble floor as the infiltrators realized they were outmatched—not just by guards or the infamous Frontman, but by these two relentless forces who fought with terrifying synergy.

The Frontman observed from a distance, his mask concealing the turmoil beneath. His orders had secured most of the VIPs, but his focus remained on her. She was fast, brutal, and fearless—but also reckless.

One of the last attackers aimed a gun directly at her back.

“No!” Gong Yoo shouted, his usual charm stripped away, replaced by raw panic.

But she had already sensed the danger. With uncanny precision, she twisted, grabbing a broken champagne bottle from the floor. The glass glinted under the flickering lights as she drove it straight into the gunman’s forearm. The weapon fired into the ceiling, plaster raining down as he howled in pain.

She followed up with a merciless elbow to his throat, dropping him like dead weight.

Breathing heavily, she wiped blood from her face, her eyes still sharp and alert. Gong Yoo stood beside her, his hand instinctively brushing her shoulder as if reassuring himself she was unharmed.

“You know,” he panted, half-laughing, “I really thought I’d have to save you.”

“Please.” She smirked. “I’ve got this.”

The Frontman finally approached, his authoritative presence cutting through the aftermath like a blade. Guards were restraining the last of the infiltrators, and silence began to settle over the ruined ballroom.

“You’re reckless,” the Frontman said coldly, his voice devoid of emotion.

“Effective,” she shot back defiantly, though exhaustion crept into her voice.

The masked figure didn’t respond, but his lingering gaze on the woman said enough.

She straightened, brushing glass shards from her dress as she surveyed the carnage. The ballroom, once pristine and elegant, now resembled a battlefield drenched in blood and destruction.

“Well,” the Salesman drawled, his smirk returning, “guess that’s what happens when you throw such a killer party.”

The dancer huffed a breathless laugh, but the weight of what had just transpired lingered between them all. 

“It’s been a blast boys, but I need to clean myself up now.” she said and without waiting for an answer from them, she made her way to the bathroom.

She stood at the marble sink, blood swirling down the drain as she scrubbed at her knuckles. Her breathing was shallow, heart still racing—not just from the chaos but from the exhilaration that thrummed in her veins.

She had felt alive.

The crack of fists meeting flesh, the sharp edge of survival cutting through every instinct—it ignited something deep inside her, something she didn’t want to admit she craved. Even now, her hands trembled not from fear but from the fading thrill of battle.

God help her, she’d enjoyed it.

The realization made her stomach churn with guilt. What kind of person savored violence? She had brushed so close to death tonight, yet all she could think about was how addictive it was—the rush, the power.

The door creaked open behind her.

She stiffened, half-expecting Gong Yoo’s smug grin. But no—it was him.

In Ho. Damn it, why was he always there, in the back of her mind? Ready to jump in to save her.

Mask removed, his dark eyes were sharp with concern as they locked onto her bloodied reflection in the mirror.

“You’re hurt,” he said quietly, stepping toward her.

“It’s nothing,” she muttered, forcing her voice to steady as she reached for a towel.

He was there before she could pull away, taking the towel from her hand without asking. The roughness of his palm contrasted with the gentle precision as he lifted her bruised knuckles into the light.

“You’re reckless,” he muttered, his voice low and strained.

“I know,” she admitted softly.

And she did. Reckless wasn’t new for her—but tonight, it had been different. Tonight, she hadn’t just fought to survive. She’d fought because part of her wanted to. The thought made her want to scream.

But In Ho said nothing more, focused instead on cleaning the streaks of dried crimson from her skin. The room was silent except for the soft trickle of water and the faint rustle of fabric.Her heart pounded—different now, softer, raw. Not from violence, but from the weight of his presence, the tenderness in his touch despite the wall he always kept between them.

“You didn’t have to come,” she said quietly, watching his profile in the mirror.

“Yes, I did,” he murmured, his voice rough.

His words hit harder than any blow she’d taken that night. He wasn’t just talking about tonight—he never was with her. His dark eyes were focused on every little scratch, carefully cleaning them up.

“I handled myself,” she insisted, though the tremor in her voice betrayed the war raging inside her.

“I know,” he admitted, guilt flickering in his eyes. “But seeing you like this...” He shook his head as if forcing the thought away.

Her throat tightened. Why did he care? Why did she want him to care?

"Who were they?" she asked abruptly, her voice sharp, demanding an answer.

"No one you need to concern yourself with," he said, his words cold, but his eyes flickered with something darker. "I’ve already sent the Officer to investigate. But... I did hear one of them shouting, something about doing this for their son." His jaw tightened as he spoke, the weight of his words lingering in the air. "It seems some family of a former player has managed to track us down, and they’ve gathered others, desperate for revenge."

He leaned in slightly, his gaze locking with hers, and for a moment, there was a chilling intensity in his voice. "But don’t trouble yourself, little dove. You won’t need to lift a finger. I’ll make sure they’re dealt with... permanently."

“You liked it, didn’t you?” he asked suddenly, his voice cutting through her defenses.

Her breath caught. “What?”

“The fight,” he said grimly. “You liked it.”

The truth hung between them, heavy and undeniable.She wanted to deny it, to tell him he was wrong, to make a snarky remark—but she couldn’t.

“I don’t know what's worse,” she whispered hoarsely. “That I did... or that I wanted it to keep going.”

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer, brushing his thumb across the cut along her jawline. The tenderness in the gesture made her ache, and for a moment, she wanted to collapse into the warmth of it, to forget the darkness clawing inside her. For just a second, she closed her eyes letting him caress her skin, her defenses fully down.

“You’re not a monster,” he said quietly, as if reading her thoughts.

She let out a bitter laugh. “Aren’t I?”

“No.” His voice was firm, certain. “I’ve seen monsters. You’re not one of them.”

Her breath hitched. “Then what am I?”

His hand lingered on her jaw, thumb tracing the faint bruise. “Someone I can’t stop thinking about,” he admitted softly. The raw honesty in his voice shattered what was left of her defenses. In a perfect world, this would have been the moment they would have kissed, where he would profess his undying love and they would have lived happily ever after.

But alas, this was not a perfect world.

“You have no right to care,” she whispered, her voice breaking trying to fight back against the feelings.

“I know.” He stepped back, the distance between them sudden and painful. “But I can’t help it. You’re all cleaned up,” he said gruffly, retreating to safer ground.

But neither of them moved. Their eyes lingered, heavy with unspoken words. In Ho’s hair remained perfectly styled, slicked back with precision, and his onyx tuxedo fit his frame like it had been tailored just for him. It was almost maddening how flawless he appeared while she stood there, disheveled and bloodied, her dress torn from the chaos.

In a way, it perfectly represented who they were: him, an image of unwavering control, and her, a whirlwind of chaos and recklessness.

The contrast between them stung—like a cruel reminder that they could never truly align. He was every inch the mask he wore: composed, untouchable. And she? She was a storm, a wild force of nature trying to fit into a world of structure.

For a moment, she hated him. Not for who he was, but for how effortlessly he embodied everything she could never be.

Her pulse quickened, the intensity of the moment feeding the restless, chaotic part of her. But she stayed still. Neither of them moved—too afraid, or too proud, to take the next step.

In Ho broke the silence, his voice as controlled as always. "You should leave," he said, but there was something unspoken in the way he said it. A vulnerability hiding behind the command, barely noticeable but undeniable.

She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. "And leave you to play the perfect host?"

His jaw clenched slightly at the jab, but he said nothing, his gaze still locked on hers. The distance between them felt like miles, and yet she could feel the magnetic pull, as though the space was too small to contain the tension brewing between them.

There was a flicker in his eyes—a softness, quickly masked by the cold exterior he’d perfected. "You’re making this harder than it needs to be," he murmured, his tone quieter now, yet still holding that edge of finality.

She took a step closer, ignoring the war waging inside her. “Is it hard for you? Or is it hard for you to admit you don’t want me to go?”

The words hung in the air, too raw, too honest. She saw his eyes narrow, the slightest flicker of frustration passing through them. His body stiffened, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

"I don’t need you here," he said, his voice tight, but there was a pause before the last word—a hesitation that didn’t go unnoticed.

The dancer’s heart hammered in her chest, but she refused to let it show. "Then why do you keep looking at me like that?"

His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but he held back, caught between something he couldn’t admit and the image he had built around himself. She saw it—the turmoil beneath the surface. He wasn’t as untouchable as he wanted her to believe.

"You should go," he repeated, but this time, it was softer. Almost... pleading.

It was too much. The fight, the connection, the tension—it all boiled over inside her, and she knew there was only one way to stop the storm in her chest. She closed the space between them.

Her breath caught as her hands came to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his heart beneath the fabric of his tuxedo. She looked up, meeting his eyes, so close now that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

For a moment, neither of them moved, and in that instant, everything seemed to hang in the balance. Then, slowly, she leaned in. His eyes flickered to her lips, and the air between them thickened, charged with something far more intense than just the heat of the moment.

Just as she was about to close the distance, the briefest hint of hesitation stopped her.

What are you doing?

It was a question that hovered in her mind, but she didn’t have an answer for it. Instead, she pulled back, just enough to look at him, breathless, torn between the impulse to pull him closer and the need to protect herself from what this moment could mean.

His hand twitched, almost as if he wanted to reach for her but stopped himself. She could see it—the war between the man he was and the man she’d forced him to be.

"I can’t do this," he muttered, his voice almost a whisper, thick with frustration.

She tilted her head, meeting his gaze steadily. "You’re the one who won’t do this. But you want to."

He took a step back, exhaling sharply, his chest rising and falling with the weight of their proximity. He didn't answer—he didn’t need to.

And in that silence, the unspoken truth hung heavy: Neither of them was ready for what this could become, but neither of them could walk away, either.

Author's note: please let me know your opinions! should I make it more of a love triangle between the three or tame it down? How are you liking it so far?

[fleckjayky]

I saw that Taliesin and Ashley, pretty sure a Fearne and Ashton conversations coming aaaaah

[harrystylesfan2686]

First time

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Summary: Reader experiences 2 base for the first time. Aftercare.

Warnings: MDNI Cunnilingus. Smut.

A/N: Hope you like this😚🤭

Masterlist

●○●○●○

He lays on his stomach, spread out between her naked legs. Looking up at her flushed face.

"Ready love?" She nods, feeling excited and maybe a little scared, not having done this ever before.

They'd been kissing when she suddenly felt the need to have more, her mind blurry and fingers clenched in need of something, anything greater than this. Kissing wasn't enough for her now, she wanted more. And when she told him this, he only smiled and said to her that he knew of a way she could feel satisfied.

So now, here they were with her spread out on her bed and him between her legs. He had told her to remove her outer clothes before, leaving her only in her underwear.

He softly grazes his lips on her inner thigh, trying to get her used to the touch. She exhales, her skin tingling with anticipation. She might be inexperienced, but she wasn't naive. She knew what he would do and how he would do it—had spent a good amount of time reading and watching and imagining those crude scenes—She just didn't know how it would feel.

"May I?" She looks at his devilish expression as he holds up the band of her knickers. She nods once more and he let's go of it. She feels confused for a moment before he bites down on the band, pulling it down her leg as he goes.

She lets out a gasp when he pulls closer to her now entirely naked bottom. He spreads her legs a little wider and lips his lips, admiring her. Her entire body feels hot, him looking at her like this is making her feel nervous. Her blush spreads across her face and neck as the seconds go by.

"Don't keep me waiting now, please?" She begs, her voice laced with desperation. He looks up at her face and notices her breathing coming out in small impatient puffs.

And smirks.

Not breaking their eyes contact, his lips part, his tongue swiping out to Lick a clean swipe across her clit and she flinches at the sudden pleasure. His smile widens and he moves his tongue across her again, adding a little more pressure. Her eyes leave his as she lets out a low moan.

He keeps moving his tongue in slow, delicate motions and she can't stop panting.

She moans loudly when his tongue slips slightly in her gaping entrance, teasingly, just a little and pulls back to her clit once more. His movements are a little faster now, increasing pressure by each swip.

Her legs twitch and he tightens his hold on them, not giving her much room to move. Her mind feels dizzy and she can't focus on anything other than the pleasure he gives her.

She can't stop her moans now, the pleasure not giving her time to even think. She bites down on the back of her right hand, trying to keep her moans.

But then the pleasure stops, the weight of a tongue leaving her. Her eyes open and she frowns, arching her head to see him pulling back and sitting on his knees.

"Why-?" She goes to ask but he clicks his tongue, silencing her.

His hand reached out to grasp onto the hand she bit, the redness and irritated skin already forming the shape of her teeth. He gently kisses the area and looks at her with disappointment in his eyes.

"Why did you try to keep your moans at bay, darling?" He let go of her hand and leans down to softly peck her lips. "I love to hear you. Won't you let me?"

And sudding the pleasures back again. She looks down to see him using his thumb on her nub, rotating in small circles. The feeling is electrifying and this time she doesn't conceal her voice.

His busies himself in kisses her skin, moving his lips from her neck, down her collar bone, kissing and nibbling along the way, leaving a trail of small red love bites here and there.

He uses her other hand to pull down her bra, she gasps, her nipples hardening in the cold air of her room. He immediately wraps his lips around it, circling his tongue at the tip. He sucks on it before releasing and repeating the treatment on the other one.

She lets a sound very close to a sob, his thumb hadn't stopped at all and now his lips continuing their ministrations. He works, both of his thumb and tongue in a rhythm, overwhelming in the finest way possible.

Her muscles contract and a deep arch starts at her core, like a rope tightening into a knot. Her fingers twitch, in need to hold something, noticing this he takes her hands, interlacing their fingers of one hand and puts the other in his hair, encouraging to pull as she needs.

"I— think— I'm gonna—" Her words a broken whisper but he understands exactly.

"Let go, my love."

He kisses her lips, moving his tongue with hers passionately. His hand now moves even faster and her hips buck up. The knot in her core tightening and tightening and it finally breaks and she cries out into his mouth. Her eyes fall shut as white explodes behind them. Her mind completely quiets, only focusing on the pleasure that runs through her veins.

She loses herself in the haze of euphoria, floating inside her mind as he gently lays kisses on her body. She doesn't know what time it is when she finally comes to, her body still buzzing with excitement. She opens her eyes to see his gazing down at her. He smiles when she does.

"There you are, darling." His clean hand comes up to cup her cheek, and she instinctively nuzzles into it, eyes falling again. Exhaustion finally weighing down her body. He sighs. "Not yet, love." Referring to her almost falling asleep.

He gets up and puts each hand behind her back and knees, gently lifting her in his arms. She whines softly in protest, wanting noting but to go back to sleep. "We can seep after darling, first thing to do is clean you; Don't want you getting an infection now, do we?"

He walks into the bathroom and sits her down on the sink counter, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her deeply for a few seconds before gently releasing her and taking off her bra that somehow stayed on the entire time.

She finally feels a bit awake and smiles at him, her skin glowing in the after sex glow. He smiles back and moves to turn on the cap of tub, getting ready for the bath. She notices the bulge in his pants and frowns.

"What about you?" She asks.

"What bout me?" He looks at her, leaning closer to hold her again after removing his clothes too.

"Do you want me to suck you off?"

He freezes, widening eyes taking in her innocent ones. The image of those doe like eyes looking up at him with his dick in her mouth pops in his mind.

He laughs at her in disbelief. Adorable, he thinks.

"Not now, darling. I don't think you'll be able to handle it." A wolfish grin spreads across his face and she tilts her head in confusion.

She hadn't done it before but surely it can't be that hard no?

He pecks her nose once more before lifting her from the counter. They sink into the full tub, and she immediately feels herself melt in the hot water. Tenseness leaving her muscles as sleep once again tries to embrace her.

She's so lost in the relaxed feelings that she doesn't realise when he wraps his arms around her waist and rests her back on his chest, only when he lightly kisses her shoulder from behind, does she angles her head a little and pulls him into a slow gentle kiss.

When they pull back, she beckons her head on his shoulder and he rests his forehead to her neck. His fingers trace and move in delicate movements, massaging the caves in her hips and she sighs.

"I love you." She whispers into the silence.

"I love you too." He kisses her shoulder.

Few moments of peace before his fingers suddenly curl into a tight fist and she frowns.

"Is something wrong?" She tries to turn but his arms tighten their hold, enabling her to move. She feels his lips form into a smirk and he lifts his head just enough to look her in the eyes and say, "I can't seem to get your moans out of my mind." Which earns him an adorable blush and a slap on his cheek.

[zeitztun]

ik this is known but no successful settler colony has reached relative "internal stability" without genocide. north america is the first example of this that comes to mind: during the early years all up to the 19th cent., wars and attacks between native americans and settlers were frequent. and yes, while the settler armies were more well armed and more powerful, the native americans were a great force against the european invasions and did cause casualties among white populations, "including civillians", and halted expansion and development for many of the colonies.

this was met in 2 ways:

federal programs sponsored by the colonial states (violent deculturation, seperation from families through residential & boarding schools, expulsion from ancestral lands and destruction of the indigenous identity)

and unofficial, "individual" settler and enlistee actions of massacres upon indigenous populations. these events obviously were never prosecuted because they worked in tandem with the colonial powers, supported and encouraged by them.

the extermination of the american indigenous people wasn't just a facet of american success but the foundation of it. if they weren't subject to the genocide, the wealth and vast land in north america wouldn't have reached the white populations and the continent would be unrecognizable today, with canada and the united states not slightly as globally influencial as they are today. imagine a usa reliant on tourism.

and ik this is all elementary level information, but israel mirrors this entire process in eery similarity, with ancient, ancestral lands seized from palestenians exploited and destroyed for capital gains following violent expulsions (the nakba created israel). palestinians remaining within the israeli border endure lynchings and attacks by settlers as well as repression and persecution under federal law. israel was founded on the same colonialist principles that america and other european settler colonies (algeria, mozambique, kenya) were: their survival just depended on how far they would go to destroy the indigenous population.

what im dreading is that israel is on course to go further and proceed with that destruction. we are currently is a uniquely horrifying moment: 2,600 dead palestenians and 6,000 in hospitals with 0 supplies and 0 power - and the ground assault following the impossible evacuations is looming. the massacres about to sweep palestinian lands with the gifting of the ten thousand rifles to settlers. the unprovoked, unwarned and constant airstrikes. the monolithic, hysteric nature of mainstream western media. the army's sentiment of hunting animals. the global unrepentant backing. the repeated promise of complete victory.

what would complete victory mean? you cannot quell palestenian resistance without exterminating palestine. the palestenian people are a tortured people, hungry, radicalized simply from their day to day life: not one gazan hasn't watched corpses being pulled from the rubble, not one gazan doesn't have murdered family, not one gazan doesn't have something to mourn. their friends and family disappear or lose limbs on the daily now, building on grief from the previous 7 decades deep destruction. the homesickness is constant. the sounds of explosions is never far. of course there would be resistance movements, of course there would be revenge attacks, of course it will be bloody, because no humans in the world could silently endure these conditions. if hamas was entirely destroyed tomorrow, the next generation of palestinian youths would simply form another. for a complete, permanent victory, you would need to raze palestine.

this is why i balk at people hoping for coexistence. coexistence goes against the very founding strategy of israel. it goes against every principle and long term plan israel has for itself. israelis themselves do not want coexistence, they want gaza flattened and the west bank annexed, they want palestine destroyed and the palestenian people extinct. any sympathy with israel is a transgression on humanity.

[tradgedyinwaves]

First Choice - Part 2

Part two of this Poly141! x fat!reader tw: social anxiety, self-doubt, drinking

A month. You didn't go back to the bar for a full month. Avoided the place like it was the birthplace of the plague. And it was to you. You didn't want to run the risk that they were there again, that the man in the mask would berate you for making eye contact with him that night despite knowing he'd probably forgotten about you 30 seconds after. Social anxiety was a bitch.

But they were there. EVERY. FUCKING. FRIDAY.

Ghost thought he was going to lose his mind. The others had started to think he'd imagined you or had a hallucination of you. So when they sat down on the fifth Friday, there wasn't a mention of you from them. Simon still kept his eye out for you.

Surely a month was long enough that they'd have moved on, gotten bored with the dark, dingy bar and the same crowd every Friday. Arriving with your friends, your heart was in your throat and there was a swirl of nausea in your stomach.

They're not here. They're not here. They're not here.

The mantra was on repeat, but you couldn't help checking the back table anyway. You froze where you were standing as your eyes landed on the four larger men, your friend bumping into your back and asking what was wrong. You shook your head and gave her a weak smile, claiming you thought you saw someone.

You took your usual seat at the bar, tucked into the far corner where you could see the table of men and watched as your own friends filtered out onto the floor again. It was so easy for them to just introduce themselves to men, flirt their way to free drinks and possibly a nice little one night stand.

Ghost clocked you the moment the bell above the door dinged pathetically against the wood door and you walked in with three of your friends including the little blonde that informed them that you would be there every Friday. His gloved hand reached out and smacked Soap center chest, incidentally grabbing everyone's attention at the table as well.

"That her, LT?" Soap asked, eyes darting between his lieutenant and you. Soap eyed you for a moment, taking in the open scoop neck long sleeve shirt and the swell of your breasts that weren't hidden very well.

"Tha's 'er. Pretty thing, hm?" Ghost replied before picking up his glass and knocking it back, mouth suddenly dry as the Sahara. You were as pretty as he remembered and the urge to have a picture of you with him at all times roared to life in his chest.

Gaz being on the end gave him the best view of you, taking in the jeans that hugged your plump hips and ass. He could also see the way you held your jacket over your stomach to hide your belly as best you could.

Price could tell you were uncomfortable, watching you watch your friends with a hint of resentment and disdain in your eyes. He hadn't missed that all of your friends were "conventionally beautiful" and he could see that it bothered you.

"Go get her," Price suggested to Gaz, nudging him a bit as he knew Gaz was the proper man to send. You'd never come over if any of the rest of them approached you. Ghost made a disgruntled noise, looking to his captain for a brief moment of silent communication before he nodded, conceding to his superior.

You ordered your whiskey, sipping on it as you flipped between checking on your friends and scrolling mindlessly through your phone. You couldn't help but to let your eyes flick up from the dim screen to check on the table in the corner every once in a while.

Which was where your eyes were now, but there was one missing, the pretty one. Oh, he wasn't missing. He was settling himself against the stool next to you, looking down at you with those molten eyes of his and a friendly smile. "Come join us for a drink. Promise we won't bite. Well, I make no promises about Johnny."

Yup. I did a part two. This is really speaking to me right now for some reason.

Hope you guys liked it!

<- Part One Part Three ->

[lyrefromthesea]

Is there going to be a part 2 to touch starved Giyu?

Giyuu - Your Touch Is All I Need

author's note: this is the second part of this post.

pairing: Giyuu x reader

content warning: nsfw, explicit sexual content, oral (giving), cursing

you've noticed him. it was the one thing he had desired so desperately and now it finally happened.

after months of conversations, little acts of service and small smiles, he had finally made you see him. it just felt right, it felt right to be seen.

so why did it feel so wrong right now?

he had never been insecure about his own body, he knew he was trained. he had heard the woman talk while he was on missions, he was a fairly attractive man.

but right now, he could only hope you felt the same. he had opened up to you, talked about his past and his present. and you continued to love him.

so why was he afraid your love could disappear now?

he watched your hands rub against his thigh, your touch barely there. he longed to feel more, but was afraid to go further.

the moonlight made the room light up, just barely. everything felt strangely blurred and extremely clear to him.

he could perfectly see your lips pressing against his thigh, your eyes meeting his to give him a loving grin. he wasn't used to be looked at so affectionately, especially not when he felt your lips suck on his inner thigh.

the action made him flinch, press his lips together to stifle the sound threatening to escape his throat. you were looking at him so calmly, why did your touch feel so intense?

"are you ready, Giyuu? i want to show you more.." you offered, seeing his adams apple bobbing as he swallowed. he was clearly nervous, but the twitch in his pants and the hesitant nod of his head made you proceed further.

your fingers hooked under his pants, giving him one last reassuring glance before you slowly pulled them down.

the man had been awfully hard, his precum already making his underwear wet, but he had stayed quiet throughout the whole experience. he trusted you, deciding to let you do what you want.

yet he couldn't hold back the shaky breath escaping him when you slid his pants down, hard cock slapping against his muscular body.

"poor Giyuu, you must've really craved more.." you cooed, his eyes revealing that you were right. "why didn't you say anything?"

"i.. i just, hah-" he breathed out, his voice cutting off. he didn't get to finish speaking, body reacting to your lips on his cock.

he had imagined this moment a few times already, eager to know whether you'd take him right in or stroke him first.

nothing could've prepared him for the way you were kissing along his shaft, working your way towards the tip and licking over the slit. the whole action made him shudder, especially when your lips trailed down again.

your eyes looked so innocent, they were nothing like the lewd actions he witnessed right now. your hand wrapping around his cock, gently pumping him up and down, had his eyes closing.

"oh.. i didn't know it could feel.. nh- this good.." his hand had never felt this soft, nor did he feel so loved when he stroked himself to the thought of you. he wanted to see, he needed to see you do this to him.

"w- wait-" he gasped, his eyes widening upon seeing you again. you leaned down further, fully exploiting your place between his legs. he nearly had to blink back tears when your tongue traced over his sack, stimulating the sensitive skin.

"wait, not there.." he moaned, eyes mostly lidded when he felt you suck on it. truthfully, he had never touched himself there, now close to cumming embarrassingly fast.

though his mind told him to make you stop, to try holding back longer, he felt his cock twitch in your hands, precum dribbling down his hard shaft.

however, before he could fall over the edge, you pulled back, making him suck in a deep breath.

"why.. why would you stop?" he asked, already feeling your lips pressing against the tip of his cock. he choked out, feeling you slide him right in.

this was different from your hands, different from anything he had ever experienced before. your mouth felt hot and wet around him, basically asking him to cum.

"[name].. love.. this is-" he thought having your lips wrapped around him was bad, he couldn't comprehend when you started bobbing your head along his shaft.

"f- fuck.. fuck!" he whined, hands gripping the bedsheets tighter than ever. he had to fight the urge to hold onto you, forcing your head down until your nose brushed against his groin.

yet he couldn't keep his lower body in check, his hips trying to buck up even though he wanted to hold back.

he didn't understand why his body was responding this harshly towards you, it never was this bad when he had to masturbate.

"please- please, i- if you do that, i have to cum.." but he didn't receive mercy from you, crying out when you picked up speed, sometimes gagging around him.

"i'm gonna cum.. 'm going to cum! ha- mh- can't hold back-" his jaw went slack when you fully pushed your head down, swallowing around him.

not a single sound left him until he felt his cock twitch, his cum spurting down your throat. his whole body was tense, finally crying out and pushing his hips up, trying to get himself deeper.

you watched him tremble above you, sheets looking like they might rip from his sheer grip on them.

when it finally was over, he tried catching his breath, too exhausted to look at you standing up. he only opened his eyes to see you straddling his lap, his dick - still hard - pressing against you, feeling just how aroused you were against his body.

"you did good, love.." your lips captured his in a deep kiss, tongue tracing over his bottom lip and slipping into his mouth. he could only moan in response, pressing his tongue against yours.

his cum had left an unusual taste in your mouth, making him shudder in response. a weird combination of sweetness and bitterness spread throughout his mouth.

"please.." he breathed out, feeling you break the kiss. your whole body was pressed against his, making his skin tingle all over.

"i.. i can still continue.. i want to have you fully.." the words made your heart swell, seeing him so exhausted from one orgasm, but longing to continue.

"we'll get to it.." you reassured him, your gentle grinding turning your promise into actions.

he was sure he'd lose his mind when this was over.

[hollowdeath]

Thank god, another Harry Potter lover! 👓⚡️He really deserves more love! ❤️ That’s why I imagine him and the reader settling in a cottage by the sea or lake (you decide) to heal from the Wizarding War. They find comfort and solace in each other, and yes that includes countless lovemaking. 🥰 It’s just the two of them, so they’re free to express their love whenever and wherever they want. They especially enjoy making love on the shore under the stars after a swim, by the fireplace on a soft blanket, and in the bathtub surrounded by candles. They just need to feel and hold each other to remind themselves that everything’s okay now. You can do whatever you want with this, I just wanted to put it out there. Take care!

thank you so much for this request, i fell in love with it as soon as you sent it! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you & harry have moved away from everything & everyone to a remote cottage where the forest meets the sea. all harry wants after everything he's been through is to find peace, & he finds it in you.

c/w: smut!!! oral sex, penetration, rough sex

word count: 7.3k

harry was up early. he was watching the kettle boil on the gas stove in front of him, enjoying the warmth coming off of it, letting himself relax for just a moment. the steam from the water enveloped his face and felt nice. it was so chilly this morning. the windows were fogged over from the fire raving inside the stove, the wind whistling through the walls of the cottage.

the cottage was beautiful, harry couldn't deny it, though he could do with a bit more insulation. the raw, exposed stone walls were charming, and the moss and vines growing on the outside were something out of a fairy tale, but the fire needed to be fed every hour or so most of the day for at least half of the year or else it dropped below freezing inside. however, luckily, harry came to find wood chopping and trimming to be extremely therapeutic. just him, a sharp ax, and acres of woodlands to explore.

that was another thing harry could never deny about this property: the land was worth every penny. it's not often you find such a stunning cottage sitting on the border between a local forest and, what was essentially, a private beach on the north sea. the beach stretched at least a mile, but was obscured by the trees just behind the cottage. the land wasn't cheap, but harry was ready and extremely eager to spend whatever it took to finally get away from everything, live a simple life, and be alone.

alone with you, that is.

you and harry had gone to school together until the war, but eventually ended up reconnecting and began casually dating just over 2 years ago. since then you and harry had found complete solace in each other, both suffering from the negative side effects of witnessing and experiencing the war firsthand and supporting each other through difficult times. you were mostly struggling with paranoia and anxiety, and were actually the first to suggest getting a place together away from everyone else. you thought it would help if you were out of reach, isolated from the world, practically invisible from all danger.

harry, of course, was utterly haunted by the events of the war, and everything leading up to it. he gets angry at the world, has bouts of depression, deals with monumental grief and guilt, and has chronic, clinical sleep issues caused by nightmares. which is, ironically, the exact reason he's awake so early right now.

as he's pouring the boiling water out of the kettle and over a tea bag, harry can feel his eyelids fighting to stay open. he's barely slept this week, and he's starting to feel the effects of it. he's lightheaded, detached, and just wants to rest.

as he's walking to the front porch, mug in hand, harry takes a moment to pause in the doorway of your master bedroom and admire you. sleeping, surrounded by white cotton comforters, drowning in pillows, your hair wildly framing your peaceful face. he just stays there for a while, leaning against the doorframe, watching. he often watches you sleep when he can't himself. it brings him relief knowing you can get the rest you need.

before he heads outside harry slips on his favorite quarter zip. as he's sitting on the stairs outside, he admires the sound of the waves crashing just a few hundred or so yards away from him. he finishes his hot cup of tea, closes his eyes and lets himself sit in the cold waves of the wind. it's nice. like sleeping without the nightmares.

the moment is short lived as he hears the door creak open behind him. he looks back, and is in disbelief at how beautiful you look just waking up. a nightdress that barely covers anything at all draping around your shoulders, messy bed hair, sleepy eyes and a smile as you stand with the door cracked open, admiring harry in return.

"morning," you say simply, your voice still soft and hoarse from sleeping. harry smiles at you with soft and loving eyes. you walk towards him and let the door close behind you as you cuddle up next to harry on the stairs.

you don't seem to mind the chill in the air. your exposed skin is still hot from the fire burning inside. you lean your head on harry's shoulder, reaching for his mug, seeing there's nothing left, and leaving the mug in his hands. harry's chest hums as he chuckles. "would you like some? kettle's still warm," he asks.

you shake your head. you want to stay right here with harry in this moment.

the sea is so beautiful at this time of the morning. the sun was up, but only just barely above the horizon. no clouds, no birds, just the waves and the wind carrying their breeze.

speaking of breeze, you begin to shiver the longer you're out there in only a sleep dress. you still want to stay with harry, enjoying the view with him, but he notices you shaking.

"darling, let's get you inside,"

harry sits you in front of the stove and opens the small latch, letting the door stay open as you attempt to warm your hands. harry feeds the fire and rearranges the coals to make it burn hotter for you. after a minute or so, he also slips off his quarter zip and pulls it over your torso, smiling to himself at just how big it looks on you.

you find yourself finally starting to warm up, your toes burying themselves into the fur rug you're sitting on. after harry pours you a cup of tea, he joins you next to the fire. "thank you," you tell him with a smile, eagerly taking a sip of the warm drink.

harry's arm wraps around you and he watches the fire as you continue to sip your tea, enjoying the feeling of it warming you up from the inside.

you relish this moment with harry. since moving here barely a month ago, you've grown so fond of these smaller moments throughout the day with him. watching the scenery, watching the fire, sitting in comfortable silence, sharing a kettle of tea in the morning and afternoon, simply enjoying each other's company and the peace you've created for yourselves. it was one of your favorite parts about settling into this little slice of life.

and, of course, there was all the alone time.

while living with harry at grimmauld place was lovely, there was never truly a moment alone with him there. you had your own room with locked doors, but could hear someone walking, talking, cooking, always something in the background.

here, you were completely alone. a lot of people might find this situation to be even more terrifying, being so far away from everything, but you both agreed the isolation made you feel safer. safe from death eaters, safe from drama, safe from other people.

the safety from being so alone out here also meant that you and harry could be vulnerable with each other 24/7. you never had to put on a face or pretend things were okay if they weren't. if harry had nightmares, he could make some tea and enjoy a moment outside alone without anyone trying to psychoanalyze him. if you wanted to lay in bed until it was dark out again, harry wasn't going to judge you for it.

that vulnerability spread into other parts of your life as well.

you set your mug down next to the fire and turned towards harry who's already watching you as you admire his blue eyes, bloodshot from barely sleeping last night, or the night before. you take his face in your hands and just hold him for a moment, feeling him lean into your touch as his eyes flutter close. "i love you, harry," you say just above a whisper, breaking the comfortable silence.

harry looks up at you, but his eyes are now full of lust. you barely have a moment to process what's going on before harry leans in for a gentle, wanting kiss.

harry's always so soft with you despite his clearly strong desire. you've never been with someone who wanted you so bad no matter how many times you've been with them. everything with harry was like the first time all over again; the same desperation and desire to please that just never left.

the kiss quickly gets heated as harry pulls his quarter zip off of you, making you both giggle at the fact that he just put it on you only a few minutes prior. your lips reconnect in a haste, not wanting even a single second away from each other.

harry lays you down on the rug beneath you as his hands make their way to your exposed legs, feeling the heat from the fire on your thighs. his shirt quickly comes off as well from you tugging at it. a moan escapes your lips just watching his body as he pulls the shirt over his head.

harry's suffered from many injuries in these last few years that have left him littered in scars. and while you obviously hate to think about harry in pain, something about his scars drove you crazy with lust. a brave boy who faced death and came back, now healing far away from the cruel world with you as his lover. it was just another reminder that you were safe, that he was finally safe.

harry smiles as he goes in to kiss you again, his hands going right back to your thighs as he pushes your nightdress above your panties. you're holding his face lovingly but harry pulls away from the kiss to look at you. he watches your expression intently as he starts sliding his fingers over your panties, earning a sigh of relief from you. harry's eyes grow darker the longer he teases you. he sits up to use his other hand to hold down your bucking hips, causing you to whine in frustration.

"patience," harry commands from you in a stern voice. you look up at him, jaw lax, breathing uneven, and simply give him a nod.

you love this side of harry. of course you fell in love with the soft, gentle, careful parts of him first, but over time you saw more and more of his angry, controlling, dominant side during sex that you were completely weak for.

living at hogwarts and then grimmauld place right after, most of your intimate moments with harry were kept quiet to avoid being heard. soft whispering, quiet moans, slow movements, and breathless orgasms under a heavy blanket with the lights dimmed. once you moved here, away from everything and everyone, things were different.

of course, you were both still a bit quiet and shy at first, not used to having a place all to your own where no one can hear you for miles. but, slowly, you and harry learned to break old habits and started experimenting together. a lot.

it seemed like neither of you could ever get enough of each other since coming here. you'd always been really attracted to each other, maybe more than the average couple, but something about being alone together in this corner of the world where the forest meets the ocean made you feel so connected, so in tune, and completely and utterly obsessed with each other.

it started with long, drawn-out, foreplay-heavy love making in your new bed to "break it in", sometimes spending hours each day just entangled together on top of the sheets, admiring the other's body and exploring every part. then it would slowly move over to the bath, naturally, after spending so much time sweating together in bed. after a while the sessions would get shorter as you would both be completely exhausted afterwards. instead, they increased in frequency.

either you or harry would find little opportunities to sneak in a quick fuck throughout the day between chores, or would give the other person head as they made dinner in the kitchen. it was thrilling. neither of you had ever been sexual outside of the bedroom/bathroom before, but you found it completely erotic.

you had yet to have sex in front of the fire, oddly enough, but you had thought about it quite a few times before. the warmth of the stove, the soft rug beneath you, the light on harry's skin, the sweat dripping off of him…

"[y/n]," harry said, snapping you out of your daze. "are you even listening to me?" he asks with a smirk.

you blush immediately, so lost in your thoughts about the sex you were just about to have that you couldn't even focus on what was currently happening…

"s-sorry…" you mumble. "you just drive me crazy," you admit shyly.

harry's hand pushes further into your hips, a groan crawling out of his throat as he glares at you. "don't make me cum already, darling," he growls, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest.

you whimper under his pressure, your back arching as your body attempts to find some kind of release from the growing tension inside of you.

"so fucking desperate already," harry says, clearly enjoying watching you struggle under his control. "if i could resist you even a little bit i would sit here and watch you struggle all day," he tells you as he leans into your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. you wince and squeal, your heart racing from the pain.

harry smirks at your reaction. he sits up and releases the pressure on your hips, causing them to buck upwards instinctively. a pathetic "please," is all you're able to muster as you attempt to catch your breath.

normally harry wants to hear you do a lot more begging than that, but he's just as desperate as you are at this point and he can't resist you much longer.

harry props your legs up for him after helping you take off your panties, throwing them to the side as he lays between your thighs. you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at harry who's hungrily looking between your eyes and your pussy. your breathing is rapid and shallow as your heart continues to thump in your chest. even after all these years and all the times you've seen harry between your legs you just never get used to the sight. he still gives you butterflies like a nervous girl with a crush.

your head rolls in pleasure as harry starts kissing your thighs; even in both of your desperate states, even when he's at his most dominant, he's still the gentle, loving harry you're so in love with.

harry's hands find your own and intertwine your fingers together as his tongue begins exploring your pussy. you can feel yourself getting even more wet as harry's mouth attaches itself to you, enjoying how you taste. moaning, whining, hips bucking onto harry's tongue, you start to feel yourself sweat from both the fire and harry's intense gaze up at you.

"f-fuck," you cry, your thighs instinctively squeezing around harry's head. he can't help but moan as he sucks on your clit, practically letting you ride his face.

you reach for your silky nightdress and lift it above your chest, exposing your nipples to the warmth of the fire as you continue watching harry make your legs tremble.

harry's eyes droop in pleasure. one of his hands grabs for your tits and the other applies the same pressure to your hips as before. you let out your first real moan above a whimper, your hips still trying to grind against harry's mouth as he continues pushing you further into the rug.

his tongue's now inside of you, teasing you as you clench around him, your thighs still quivering.

"harry, harry, please," you say breathlessly, begging for more. harry ignores you, instead only going slower to drive you mad. you groan in frustration. he looks back up at you for only a second, but you can see the smirk in his eyes.

his hand lets go of your tits before making its way to your thighs, pushing them away from his head as harry takes a moment to breathe. you're blushing, completely flustered, eyes half-open. "sorry," you apologize.

"don't be. give me more." harry demands.

his hand pushes further into your pelvis, his elbow holding down your thigh as you wince at the pressure.

harry's mouth returns to your clit as his fingers feel how wet you are for him. your body jolts at the sensation, but harry just holds you down tighter. starting with one finger, harry pushes inside you slowly as you writhe under his grasp. your hands get tangled in his hair again, desperately pulling his face further into your pussy.

harry just chuckles, looking up at you as he slowly pushes another finger inside you. you gasp, your grip in his hair tightening as your other hand plays with your tits. just the look in harry's eyes watching you chase your high is enough to bring you close to the edge.

harry's fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy, his lips and tongue still teasing your clit. your thighs threatened to close again, but harry kept them spread open for himself. "enough," he states, planting his elbows into your thighs and his hand against your pelvis. he glares up at you as he repositions himself. "stay."

you can feel your body react to the aggression in his voice. this is the hungriest, and hottest, side of harry you've ever seen. you're already brought back to the brink of orgasm as soon as you can see harry's fingers pumping inside you again, his wrist and forearm veins pronounced against the light of the fire as he picks up his speed.

the moans coming out of your mouth are filthy and involuntary, your mind going blank at the sudden rush of pleasure through your body. once harry's tongue begins circling your clit again, you don't have a chance at lasting much longer.

"i-i, harry, stop, i'm–" is all you're able to get out before your legs begin shaking, your head thrown back, crying out in overwhelming pleasure. it feels so good not having to hold back your moans anymore.

harry's lips detach from you, swollen, covered in your wetness. his fingers continue thrusting into you, gently now as you ride out your high. he slowly removes them after a moment, his hand and elbows relieving the pressure that kept you pinned to the ground.

you're still whining, your legs aching from struggling against harry's weight. they feel impossibly heavy as you try to bend your knees up. harry just watches you, enjoying the aftermath of his work.

you're still seeing stars by the time harry's pants have come off, his cock barely peeking through the front of his boxers. he starts rubbing himself through the fabric, his breathing becoming labored as you watched him in a daze.

you look up at him innocently through your eyelashes, your mouth slightly ajar as you lean your weight to one elbow, using the other hand to take his place. he lets you take over, slowly stroking his erection through his boxers, enjoying his gaze down at you from above. his hand goes to your cheek, softly tracing the curve of your smile.

his fingers delicately open your lips before roughly shoving them into your mouth. you make a surprised noise, but quickly begin sucking and licking his fingers. he pulls his boxers down with the other hand, and uses your spit to lube himself up. you lick your own fingers and do the same, helping guide his cock into you with a groan of both pleasure and discomfort.

harry gradually thrusts into you, letting you adjust to him, taking his time with you. he watches your aching pussy welcome his cock eagerly, your legs already starting to tremble from the pressure building inside you again. "oh, fuck," harry's voice cracks, his hands gripping your thighs as they continue to involuntarily shake.

a hand flies to your mouth, barely able to contain yourself already. seeing harry's face of relief as his cock slides all the way inside you only makes you clench around him tighter. he lets out a struggled breath, his grip on your thighs only tightening as he spread them open for himself again.

harry's eyes are closed in bliss, his thrusts slow but deep, forcing a whine from your throat each time he's completely inside you. he's starting to sweat, his hair hanging loosely around his forehead, arms flexed to keep his grip on you, his body leaning down into yours as he starts picking up his pace.

harry looks down at you. one of his hands grabs the hand covering your mouth. "let me hear you, angel," he speaks gently but his voice is hungry, immediately earning a soft moan from your lips. he smiles, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

harry takes this time to really pick up his speed, adjusting his position to roughly thrust himself into your throbbing pussy. his hands grab for the back of your knees, forcing your legs to bend back as he only pushes himself into you more.

"oh my god," you gasp into harry's kiss, your hands wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself. harry's forehead rests against yours, looking down, glasses fogged up from the heavy breathing and heat from the fire. he's watching himself from your angle, slowing down his thrusting to a torturous pace. you both groan at the feeling and sight of harry pushing his cock completely inside you and slowly pulling back out before thrusting into you again.

"fuck, baby, you take my cock so well, feel so fucking good," harry says breathlessly into your ear.  your nails dig into his shoulders as you try not to cum again already just from harry's voice. you're both sweating, faces pressed together, the fire slightly dying beside you but still creating a warm glow.

"y-you're, mmph, i'm so close, again," you cry, letting yourself rest back on the soft rug. you feel so at peace despite the growing tension in your stomach – watching harry prop himself up with one hand on the ground beside you and the other still holding your leg back, his chest heaving as he continues thrusting inside you with a growing pace.

harry looks at your twisted expression, eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, your tits bouncing as he roughly uses your body for his pleasure.

"yeah?" harry looks at you, his grip on your leg tightening as he fucks you roughy into the rug. "fucking cum for me," he commands from you.

you barely need his permission before you're already over the edge, legs uncontrollably shaking, eyes rolling back, incoherent words getting lost in your broken moans and cries of pain.

it's all harry needs before he feels himself release inside you, still thrusting into you slowly as his cum spills out of your pussy.

your body is shaking from the sensation, your legs still vibrating as you clench around harry's cock. he struggled to finally pull out of you.

still trying to catch his breath, harry lovingly rubs your thighs as he watches your swollen pussy ache for the feeling of his cock again.

"so fucking beautiful, my love," harry sighs, relaxing his body on top of yours, his head in your neck. "my beautiful, beautiful girl," he repeats, covering you in kisses as he showers you with compliments.

you just giggle at him, exhausted, trying to come back down to earth.

"i can't…move," you mumble between breaths, your eyes drooping closed as your feet touch back down on the rug. you feel even more weak than before.

harry hums, kissing your forehead. "it's okay, i've got you, darling," he says with a warm smile.

he stands up, slowly, but isn't in as much pain as he expected. his knees are sore for sure, but otherwise, he couldn't feel better.

he leans down to help you sit up, guiding your body into his arms as he picks you up bridal style, your head resting in his chest. you giggle again but you're too weak to reject the gesture. he carefully carries you to the bathroom just down the hall from the living room.

harry runs you both a warm bath as you watch from the counter. he's still naked, as are you, but it's not awkward or sexual – it's just natural.

he shuts the water off and reaches for you once again. "i'm okay now," you insist, standing from the counter and steadying yourself with his hands. he still helps you walk to the tub before helping you climb inside. the water's extremely hot, but it feels so nice on your sweaty, aching skin.

"i'll be right back, gotta feed the fire, just wait for me, yeah?" harry says before he dips out of the bathroom.

looking around you as you warm the rest of your body with the water, you notice the candles sitting around the tub from the last time you both took a bath together. just the flash of the memory through your brain is enough to make your stomach twist into knots again. harry had you bent over the side of the tub as water splashed everywhere, the feeling of freedom and carelessness intoxicating you both as you cared about nothing but each other's highs.

with a flick of your wet hand, you light all the candles again, and the room is lit with a warm glow. it's not often you use magic anymore, harry prefers to do things manually now that you're both caring for a piece of land, but the convenience of certain spells are too useful to forget completely.

walking back in, harry smirks at all the candles being lit. he admires you for a moment, naked, sweaty, half submerged in the huge clawfoot bathtub surrounded by the glow of the candles. "trying to insinuate something, love?" harry asks, closing the bathroom door behind him.

you blush, curling your knees into your chest. "just thought it'd be nice to have some light," you say softly.

harry grabs you both towels and sets them next to the tub before climbing in himself. he positions himself behind you, holding your body as he guides you to relax into his chest. once you laid your head back, you and harry sat in comfortable, warm silence for a long while.

it takes a few minutes before harry's hands begin rubbing at your stomach, slowly, making ripples throughout the water as you lower your knees, letting harry comfort you. he's humming softly, your head rumbling in his chest. he rests his head next to your own and watches his hands from your perspective.

his rubbing gets further and further down your stomach, running his hands along your waist and hips before finally grabbing at your inner thighs roughly. you let out a pathetic whimper, watching his hands from above the water.

"is it bad that i already need you again?" harry chuckles, half joking but half already turned on. you shake your head quickly, your hips thrusting up for relief, moaning at his words. "no, need you, please," you respond desperately, looking over at him.

harry's eyes are darker once more, watching as his hands gradually move to your sensitive pussy. you groan in response, but harry quickly kisses you to cover it. "i know, baby, just let me take care of it," he says into your lips.

slowly circling your clit with soft fingers, harry watches as your eyes droop more and more from the building pleasure. eventually his fingers are back inside of you, gently pumping in and out. his head turns back to your body as he watches you react to him. his other hand goes for your tits, grabbing one roughly from just above the surface of the water.

while it feels good being teased you're insanely desperate for harry once again. your hand reaches behind you, feeling harry's growing erection against your back. harry's grip on you tightens as your hand starts stroking his cock slowly under the water.

"fucking dirty girl," he groans under his breath, taking his fingers out of your pussy to continue rubbing your clit. you cry out at the loss of feeling, your hand squeezing around harry as he just enjoys the feeling.

soon, harry's moved your hips to align with his, your arms holding your body up on either side of the tub as you slowly insert harry back inside your pussy once again. the familiar feeling is only enhanced by being underwater, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease as you adjust to the feeling.

"oh my god," you sigh, your stomach already tightening, thighs still a bit shaky. harry's guiding your hips expertly, groaning in pleasure watching your ass dip in and out of the water onto his lap. his head is resting against the edge of the tub, mind blank, solely focused on your pleasure and his.

"fuck, harry," you whimper again, rolling your hips around on his cock before thrusting it inside you again. harry wishes you could see just how sexy you look from this angle, your hair flowing down your back, your skin glistening in the candlelight, the water droplets running down your hips, it's enough to make him resist the urge to finish already.

"you're so perfect," harry groans. he smacks your ass, slapping the water with it, causing you to squeal and quicken your pace. the same filthy moans are still spilling from your mouth, hardly able to contain yourself in this situation. something about using the time meant to help each other clean up to only continue fucking makes you feel so dirty, so used, and it's driving you crazy.

harry suddenly stops you, much to your disappointment, and tells you to trust him. "just get out and stand up," he says.

you do as he says, and eventually harry has you bent over the bathroom counter, barely lit by the candles behind you. he slowly returns his cock inside of you, your bodies dripping water everywhere.

as harry's thrusts become more consistent, one hand grabs for your shoulder and the other for your damp hair. he forces your face to look in the mirror, your eyes barely open from the pleasure. "watch," he commands. your eyes shot open at his voice, tracing the shape of your shadows in the mirror in front of your face.

harry loses himself in you, his head rolling back in pleasure hearing you struggle to take his cock for a second time. you're trying to moan, say anything at all, but your voice is incomprehensible as harry only becomes rougher with you.

"god damn it, [y/n]," harry spits out, his voice clearly exhausted. his hands travel back to your tits, pulling you back up into him as he continues pounding into you from behind. you're a mess in his hands as they roughly grope your tits.

"look at you," harry growls into your neck, looking into the mirror just in front of you as his gaze meets yours. "so fucking sexy,"

your hands desperately grip the edge of the counter for balance, your legs getting more and more weak by the second. harry pushes you further over the counter, his moans becoming urgent.

"i'm gonna fill you up because you're fucking mine, yeah? look at this perfect body of yours," harry's voice strains, his sweaty chest against your back as he forces you to continue watching yourself get pounded in the mirror, one arm over your chest and the other holding your hips. the light of the candles is just enough to let you see harry's dark expression. "fucking perfect, just for me,"

you haven't been able to get a single word out, your mind spinning as harry only gets more and more desperate, his pace getting sloppy.

"fuck, baby, just be good for me and let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hm? let me show you what's mine,"

you're already starting to cum just from harry's words. the overwhelming pleasure racks your body harshly as harry continues to use you for himself. shaking, barely able to stand without his help, your voice is breaking as you cry out in ecstasy for the third time just this morning.

harry's barely able to last much longer. his thrusts have slowed to uneven, jerky motion as he feels his cum spilling deep inside you. breathy moans and aching bodies, harry rests against you with your body limp against the counter. he lifts his head from your neck to kiss your skin softly, everywhere, slowly helping guide you back to the tub for a second time. your legs are weaker than before and you're barely able to contribute as harry leans you into the water, still kissing your damp skin.

"i love you, i love you," he's mumbling between kisses.

you're too weak and dizzy to respond in any way, still trying to catch your breath as harry begins cleaning your skin. he rubs a soft rag along your chest, neck, back, shoulders, and arms. the whole time he's complimenting you lovingly, a gentle touch and warm gaze upon your tired face.

after washing himself, harry also dries you off, carrying you back to bed before getting you both dressed in comfortable, warm pajamas. "just rest for today, my love," he told you as he laid you down. you reach for his hands. "stay?"

harry smiles. you didn't have to ask, it was literally his bed too, but he admires how soft and innocent you are in this moment. though he loves to be rough with you like he just was, there's nothing more special in the world to him than the gentleness between you two. his whole life has been nothing but challenges, setbacks, problems, and you're everything but. he just wants to be soft and gentle with you.

harry climbs under the sheets, his body also succumbing to the ache and exhaustion. he wraps himself around you, already falling asleep against his chest. harry joins not long after, finally getting his much needed sleep without the threat of his nightmares.

a few weeks later it's just a bit warmer out than it has been, so you and harry immediately started the day doing outdoor chores while you could. harry was chopping wood as you cleaned up around the cottage garden. it was too cold most of the year to grow much of anything out of it, but you still liked to keep it manageable for the smaller animals that stopped by to look around.

you also took the time to admire harry, shirtless, sweaty, groaning each time he drops the ax into another cut of firewood. his body had become well built from all the manual labor he's been doing lately, carrying entire trunks or stumps of trees out of the forest, lifting heavy bags of mulch and dirt for you, digging out the flower bed around the cottage, he was more muscular and toned than you'd ever seen him. it never mattered what harry's body looked like to you, you always found him attractive no matter what, but you couldn't deny that his toned back and broad shoulders got you more worked up than usual lately.

it was nice getting to work on the home with each other, a comfortable silence filling the day broken by the occasional question, favor, kiss, or compliment. it was peaceful, this routine you both had, and it felt so natural to work with each other. you hardly had to communicate your ideas because you were often thinking the same things.

tea in the morning, chores once the sun is out, taking a dip in the ocean at sunset, and having a warm home cooked dinner in the dark, the cottage lit from within from candles and the fireplace. it was perfect. for both of you.

and, of course, the sex had never slowed down as well.

you had both joked at the beginning of your move that you didn't think you could ever stop yourselves now that you were isolated from the world, but that's exactly what ended up happening. neither of your desires could be relieved no matter how many times you tried. not that you wanted them to go away by any means, it was just overwhelming, the feral need to spend hours each day pleasuring each other in every way possible. it was always passionate and desperate for more, never becoming repetitive or any less exciting. it was exactly what you both needed and wanted all the time.

as the sun was setting for the day, you and harry sat together and shared an orange you had gotten at the market just a few miles away earlier that week. you were lucky to be close enough to something that offered fresh produce, even in the colder parts of the year. harry watched the waves crashing against the sand, his knees to his chest as you both steady yourself on a large rock between the cottage and the water.

"thank you," harry says softly. you look over at him, his hands now empty as he's swallowing the last of his orange slices. you finish yours as well. "of course," you respond.

harry shakes his head. "no. really. thank you, [y/n], for everything." he says, still watching the sea. you blush, giving him a soft smile before turning to watch it as well. "i'm finally, really, truly happy. for the first time in my life, i feel at peace." harry explains, still speaking softly just over the crashing waves.

you could cry just from harry's words. all you've ever wanted was for him to feel safe. he's had such a difficult start in life and didn't deserve what happened to him, or what he was forced to do. he deserved simplicity. a normal life in a normal home doing normal chores. he deserved to be happy.

overcome with love, you stand from the rock and grab harry's hand, pulling him with you. he silently follows you down the beach. once you're a few yards away from the shore, you pull down the straps of the dress you had been working in off your shoulders, letting the material slide right off your body and onto the sand as you continue heading towards the water.

you turn to look at harry, and he's stunned at how beautiful you are. the shape of your body against the warm sunset over the water, nothing but a pair of panties covering your sweaty skin. your hair was flowing in the salty breeze of the ocean, hands reaching for his as your feet began to touch the water.

harry's ripped and dirty blue jeans come off as well as his glasses, leaving them behind on the sand as he grabs for your hand. you walk into the water together, slightly shivering from the lingering chill beneath the warm surface, but quickly adjusting to the temperature. harry's only admiring you, like he always does, as you dip your head under the water and come up, pushing the hair out of your face.

harry does the same, wiping his face of the sweat and dirt that's collected over the work day with the salty water. this has become one of his favorite parts of your routine together, cooling off in the ocean after a long day. not just to wash off the sweat and stress of the day, but also to admire you in all your glory under the shining sun.

harry wastes no time reaching for you, pulling you into him as you float in his grasp. he holds you for a moment, mesmerized by the light in your eyes, a smile permanently fixed on his face. "my beautiful girl," he reminds you, his forehead leaning against yours. you hum, reaching your hands to his neck as you pull him in for a heated kiss.

you've had sex in the ocean a few times now, and it's quickly become one of your favorites. it's the ultimate form of freedom being naked together making love in the gentle waves, harry holding you around his waist as he hugs your body into his.

most nights you're both too tired from working to go further than sloppy making out and feeling each other up; but other nights, like tonight, you're both too desperate to care if it hurts.

as harry continues kissing you he carries you back to the shore, your legs still around his waist as he lays you down onto the sand. the water just barely washes over harry's legs as it meets the shoreline. you relax into the warm sand beneath you, harry already pulling your panties off. you giggle at his eagerness. he smirks, his hands gripping your waist hungrily.

you can see harry's erection through his soaking wet boxers barely hanging off his hips. just as eagerly, you pull them down for him as he kicks them to the side.

harry easily slides his cock inside of you, letting out a struggled sigh of relief at the feeling. no matter what's going on around him, harry will always feel perfectly in place when he's inside of you.

your hands are tangled in his wet hair, gripping tighter as he bottoms out. he moans desperately, leaning in for another kiss. his pace evens out to a familiar rhythm, your body wrapping around him as he fucks you into the wet sand. the warm sunset is perfectly met with the chilly breeze of the water that's still waving over both of you gently. each time it gives you shivers, your body arching into harry's from the shocking feeling.

harry's not sure if he's ever wanted to finish this quickly before. it was so perfect, this moment, the sun, the waves, you. he just couldn't believe this was his life. making love to the most beautiful girl in the world where the land meets the sea. he never thought life could be this simple and beautiful, but with you it was effortless.

he pulled away from the kiss to simply look at you, eyes drooping, cheeks blushing, eyebrows pinched together in desperation. he smiled. "i love you," he says so simply, his thrusts beginning to stutter against you. you smile back, eyes still half open. "love you, harry, so much," you manage to say between heavy breaths.

you pull him back in for a kiss, and feel his body weaken on top of you, leaning on his elbows for support in the uneven sand. "baby, baby," he tries to warn you, but you just continue kissing him and wrap your legs back around his waist, pulling him deeper into your pussy.

he completely unravels, pumping his cum inside you as he cries against your lips. "fuck," he keeps groaning in a broken voice. you can feel yourself letting go as well, your thighs squeezing around harry's waist as the water crashes into your body again, making you shake even more.

you both enjoy the moments after your climaxes together, letting the water continue to run over you as the sun's light falls below the horizon. harry, still inside you, his body resting on top of yours, tells you he loves you in the softest, sleepiest voice he can manage.

you kiss his head, reminding him how much you love him.

you both eventually sit up, covered in sand, and chuckle to each other about it. harry invites you back into the water where he washes you off, giving you a loving kiss under the dim sky.

he continues holding you there in the gentle waves, the emerging stars lighting the sky above you. he's a bit cold now, but he couldn't be more warm inside. harry just loves you and the little life you've built with him here on the sea. he feels happy, loved, and completely at peace in the ocean with you in his arms.

[mellowmusings]

Blessed mistakes | Prologue Azriel x Reader

part 1

A/N- This is just a drabble for now and its been sitting in my drafts for a while so i decided to post it. Not sure if i'm gonna continue on this though.

summary- After over 5 centuries of waiting Azriel hasn't found his mate, given up all hope of any chance of finding her he decides to start pursuing Elain, not seeing what was in front of him all along.

This was miserable, He was miserable.

The stale tavern air reeked of unwashed bodies, alcohol and bile. Men and women sang bawdy songs in offtune tones drowning out the music, in a corner a brawl went on, men punching one another over a rigged game of poker, women flirted with him, and none took to his liking.

How the mighty had fallen, he mused. He gulped down his whiskey, the burn in his throat grounding him. A few centuries ago he would have been drinking himself to his limit with his brothers and bedding whatever pretty female came his way, but that wasn't the case anymore. Somewhere along the path he'd fallen in love and started caring for females who could never love him the way he loved them. Now his heart was a stupid, broken mess of emotions and feelings he didn't like, and so he spent his days working himself trying to forget his feelings, now he spent his nights training because even sleep had abandoned hom. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been happy, genuinely happy and felt Loved

*2 centuries ago*

The cool summer breeze ruffled his hair, the birds sang in the background, almost harmonizing with one another. He could make out the call of the Mockingjay, A cuckoo bird, and maybe a peacock too. He sat besides y/n, his who was like a younger sister to him. She'd practically grown up with him, Cass and Rhys since they were teenagers. "Hey Az, can i ask you something?" She carefully unfolded the petals of a half bloomed daffodil. "Sure what is it?" "If you had to choose between Mor, your mate and me who would you choose, to love I mean." She asked, a slight hint of nervousness in her voice. Her question caught Azriel off-guard, he loved her but not in a romantic manner, he loved his mate more, no matter who she was, after all, she was his other half. Mor on the other hand was everything he yearned for, she was simply...perfect. He admired and respected her a lot, but more than that he loved her a lot. He thought for a moment before responding "It's tricky, on one hand, there's Mor and on the other, there's my mate. I'd say, my mate" He said carefully, not sure where this was going. Y/n's face fell just the slightest, if he didn't know her well, he wouldn't have noticed, but he did. "What's the matter, princess?" He asked softly, "What about me?" y/n asked softly He huffed out a laugh before responding, "I love you a lot, I really do princess, but you're like a younger sister to me, plus my mate always comes first." "right, of course they do." she said dejectedly, swinging her legs back and forth holding back tears. "Whats the matter princess?" 'The thing is Az you could slit my throat and with my one last gasping breath, I'd apologize for bleeding on your shirt, gods why can't you see it? I love you, and I love you more than you could ever imagine.'

She didn't say those words but gods did she want to, she wanted to tell Az how stupid he was for giving his heart to some females who were just gonna stomp on it and leave but she didn't because Azriel loved Mor and some mate he didn't know more than he loved her. She was always going to be a friend to him, nothing more, nothing less. So she continued swinging her legs and lied to his face with a simple 'I'm fine, I swear'. He didn't believe her, they both knew each other well enough to know that much, still he didn't pry any further. So they sat in silence, and stared at the setting sun while the world around them went quite, she averted her gaze away from Azriel as tears fell and landed on the broken yellow petals. if y'all wanna be tagged, just let me know :) @starlightazriel @scorpioriesling @velarisdusk @siriuslystyle1989

[rosyblooom]

blooming season🌷 (1) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.6k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans. A/N: my first time doing this, so probably has errors. if you've got any thoughts or requests pls let me know xoxo hope u enjoy! :)

part 1 <- | part 2

The scent of salt still lingers in the air, but now it feels different, not as welcoming as it used to be. It's a painful reminder of days gone by, days filled with joy and warmth that now seem distant and unattainable. No matter how hard you try, you can't shake off the memories, replaying them in your mind like a scratched vinyl record that refuses to play properly.

Today marks four years since your father's passing, and four years since you left Monaco. You were just eighteen then, fresh out of high school, when the news of your father's tragic car accident hit you like a ton of bricks. In a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sorrow, you packed your bags that very night and left before the weight of it all drowned you.

You couldn't bring yourself to attend your father's funeral, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't real. But deep down, you knew the truth—your father was gone, and nothing could change that. Even as you threw yourself into your studies, pursuing a nursing degree, the pain never truly went away.

And now, here you are, sitting alone on this deserted stretch of beach, watching the waves crash against the shore in a steady rhythm.

This spot holds a special place in your heart, known only to a handful of locals—a fact you couldn't be more grateful for. Here, away from the watchful eyes of tourist crowds, you find solace as you simply listen to the earth rotate.

You exhale slowly, leaning forward to brush the sand from your palms before reaching into your bag for the bottle of red wine nestled inside. It takes a bit of effort to uncork it completely, but the satisfying pop is worth the wait. With careful precision, you fill a wine glass to the brim with the rich, maroon liquid—something to take the edge off.

"Welcome back, Y/N," you whisper to yourself, lifting the glass in a silent salute. "Thank you, thank you. I can't imagine anything worse."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, a stark contrast to your usual composed demeanour. It's been 1,460 days, yet it feels like your world only just came crashing yesterday.

Needing calm now, you take a sip of the wine, savouring its sweetness, when the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention, pulling you back to the present moment.

"Seriously?" you think to yourself, feeling your heart plummet like a stone sinking into deep waters. You took every precaution to keep your return under wraps—after all, you paid good money for that privilege.

Arriving just last night, you made it a point to rise at the crack of dawn, a time before the world awoke; a time when it's just you and no one else. You couldn't bear the idea of facing the prying eyes that would surely accompany the day ahead. For once, you didn't want to be known as the daughter of one of Monaco's wealthiest families; you simply wanted to be yourself, stripped of titles and expectations—a daughter mourning her father.

Feeling like a trapped animal, you become acutely aware of every sound and movement, your gaze locked on the figure approaching.

A man.

His brown curls bounce with each step until he comes to an abrupt stop just a few feet away from you.

With a small wave and a nod, he greets you with a simple "Hey."

It takes a moment for you to register that the greeting is directed at you, causing you to tear your gaze away without a response. Your eyes flit between the gentle ripples of the sea and the man settling down uncomfortably close, prompting an annoyed grunt to escape your lips.

“Fuck spatial awareness, huh…,” you mutter under your breath, though not quiet enough to evade his notice. He slips off his black headphones, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Sorry, what?"

You clear your throat, then sit up straight and gesture expansively. "All this space, and you have to sit right next to me?”

He smiles.

Your gaze narrows.

"But I'm not right next to you," he retorts with a playful grin. "You're all the way over there." He points towards you and then at himself. "And I'm right here."

"Well, it's still too close," you snap.

"Sorry, did you buy this beach or something?" he counters, his grin widening. "Last time I checked, it's open to all members of—."

Growing increasingly frustrated, you interject, "No, I didn't buy anything. I just want some personal space. But clearly, that's lost on you."

With a scoff, you spring to your feet, snatching up your towel and cramming it into your bag, sand and all.

"Wait, you don't have to leave," he insists, his footsteps drawing closer. But you pay him no mind, tossing your phone into your bag and hastily gathering the rest of your belongings from the ground.

Once everything is crammed into your bag, you snatch up your half-empty glass of wine and stand upright, only to feel a foreign warmth enveloping your hand and glass. The man now stands directly in front of you, invading your personal space completely; you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his piercing green gaze.

"Look, I'm sorry if I did something wrong, but—" he begins, but you cut him off sharply.

"Way too close now," you snap, attempting to pull your hand away, but he refuses to release his grip.

"You do realise I'm trying to apologise, right?" he asks, confusion evident in his eyes.

"I don't care."

His grip remains firm. "There's plenty of space for both of us here."

"It doesn't matter anymore," you respond, your patience wearing thin.

The struggle continues, your voice growing louder with each tug. "Let go of the fucking glass!"

Suddenly, a sharp yell pierces the air, followed by the hollow thuds of broken glass hitting the ground. Shock washes over you as you barely register the sticky liquid trickling down your hand and onto your toes.

"Ah, shit," he exclaims, snapping you out of your daze. You quickly assess the situation, noticing the shattered remnants of the wine glass scattered on the ground, staining the sand crimson.

Panic sets in as you frantically check your hand and feet for any injuries, your eyes wide with fear. After several anxious moments, you breathe a sigh of relief.

I'm okay.

The tranquillity is abruptly shattered by deep groans echoing through the air, drawing your attention to the man's slumped figure with his back turned to you. His face remains hidden from view.

Though he's clearly in pain, you're tempted to slip on your shoes and make a hasty escape. Today is already burdened with its own weight; you're not sure you can handle any more. You even take a step back, ready to flee, but then something stops you.

A pang of guilt washes over you, weighing you down like heavy bags strapped to your legs. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly admit to yourself, "I can't believe I'm about to do this."

"Okay, fine. How about you put on your big boy boots and let me take a look at that?" you say, crossing your arms expectantly.

There's no reaction from him, not even a response.

Rolling your eyes, you drop your bag onto the sand and cautiously circle around him until you're face-to-face with his unruly brown curls.

"Hello?" you tap his shoulder, frustration creeping into your voice. "Earth to the stranger who doesn't understand personal space?"

"Seriously?" he retorts, his tone sharp.

His eyes meet yours as he straightens up, his expression guarded, but you simply shrug, maintaining a neutral demeanour, and extend your hand.

"Let me see," you say calmly.

For a moment, he simply stares at you in bewilderment, but then he tentatively extends his hand towards yours.

"I see," you breathe, examining the large cut in his palm with care, mindful not to dirty it with your fingers. Despite the blood seeping from the wound, you release a relieved sigh after a thorough inspection—it's not as deep as it initially appeared.

"Alright," you announce, dropping his hand and clapping your hands together. "Go home, make sure nothing touches that hand, clean the cut, and bandage it. Keep it dry for a couple of days, and then reassess."

Without waiting for a response, you turn towards your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and shoot him one final glance.

"This has been... unpleasant," you remark dryly. "I really hope our paths don't cross again. Goodbye."

"Wait!"

You shake your head and ignore him, determined to continue onward.

"Wait!" he calls out again, desperation evident in his tone. "I don't have any bandages!"

You stop walking, considering his words, but still don't turn around.

"And... I don't have any sanitising stuff either," he adds, his voice trailing off slightly.

Slowly, you turn around and wave your hands dismissively in the air, shouting back, "That's what supermarkets are for! I guess it's time for a shopping trip!"

Just as you're about to spin on your heel and leave again, his voice cuts through the distance.

"Look, you seem like you know what you're doing. Can't you just help me out here?"

Shielding your eyes from the harsh glare of the sun, you squint at him as he begins jogging toward you. "That advice," you shout back, "was me helping you out. Trust me, I wanted to leave way earlier."

For a moment, neither of you speaks as you watch him closing the distance between you. When he finally comes to a halt in front of you, you instinctively take two steps back—you need your personal space.

"So?" he says between pants, waiting for your response.

You furrow your brows, deep in thought. "Well, I don't have anything on me, sorry to disappoint. But like I said, there are shops around here."

You resume your walk, but to your dismay, the guy falls into step with you almost immediately.

"So, what? You have nothing at home?" he presses, his gaze burning into the side of your face.

Refusing to meet his eyes, you increase your speed.

"Right, because I'm just going to invite a stranger," you emphasise, "who I didn't want to be around in the first place, into my home."

His hand suddenly grips your arm, causing you to instinctively rip out of his grasp, both of you coming to an abrupt halt.

"What?" you bark, irritation seeping into your tone.

"You can google me," he offers, his voice calmer now. "Lando Norris, Formula One driver. Search my name up. You'll see pictures—every single detail about me, you'll probably find on the internet. Now I'm not a stranger anymore, right?" he suggests, his gaze pleading.

You remain silent, shifting your focus toward the calm waters as you breathe in and out. It feels as though the world has paused, waiting for you to come to a decision, to reach a conclusion.

Today, the anniversary of your father's death, is a day you've been dreading yet anticipating for so long. Its disruption unsettles you, but deep down, you know you can't simply ignore it. As much as you wish to skip over this chapter of your life, tear out its pages, and never look back, you can't. It's not healthy.

Still, that doesn't mean you can't delay it for a little while longer.

"Fine," you sigh, relenting to the situation, and begin rummaging through your bag until you locate your phone.

Quickly, you extract it and raise it to Lando's face, snapping a photo of him with the flash on.

"What the hell?" he exclaims, blinking rapidly.

"For my protection," you state matter-of-factly. "Just because you're famous doesn't mean you can't be a bad person."

Once his gaze meets yours again, he runs a hand through his hair and offers a sheepish smile. "Fair enough."

You nod, acknowledging his words, and continue your walk toward the car park.

"I'm not a bad person, though," he adds quickly, catching up to you.

"Colour me convinced," you reply dryly.

*********

As you approach the car park, annoyance bubbles within you at the sight of it: filled with cars and swarmed by dozens of people.

"You said you're a Formula One driver, right?" you ask, tilting your head up at Lando.

"Yeah, why?" he responds.

Instead of answering, you grab the hood of his jacket and pull it over his head.

"Why did you do that—" Lando begins, but you cut him off.

"The last thing I need is a mob of your fans, okay?" you interject firmly. "The quicker we get this done, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

Lando chuckles as he adjusts the hood. "I'm really that bad, huh?"

"Worse," you deadpan.

"...Right."

With your raven car in sight, you quicken your pace, relief flooding through you. The last thing you want is for people to realise you're back, especially not today.

However, as if your luck has run out, a woman steps in front of you, blocking your path. You immediately turn your focus to Lando, motioning for him to take a picture with his fan and hurry up.

But instead of the attention falling on him, a weight suddenly falls onto your shoulder, catching you off guard. You clear your throat, preparing to speak, but the woman beats you to it.

"Oh my goodness, Y/N. It's you, isn't it?" the woman exclaims, her voice filled with recognition and sympathy.

You can't reply; your mouth feels dry, your tongue heavy with unspoken words.

No, not today. Please, not today.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N," she continues, her expression radiating pity. It's uncomfortable—the way she looks at you, the way she touches your shoulder so gently. It feels like you're being burned alive, yet you're immobilised, just as you were four years ago when you first heard the news.

"Your father was such an amazing man. And you, I mean, you've been missed. My daughter loves you—"

Suddenly, you're being pulled forward, jolting you out of your trance. You struggle to keep your balance as you try to comprehend what's happening—the woman is gone, and Lando's hand is firmly clasped around yours, pulling you closer to him.

Your personal space has been completely invaded, yet you don't feel the usual urge to pull away. Even if you did, you're not quite sure Lando would let you.

"Your car's the black one, right?" you hear him ask, but the words don't immediately register.

"Huh?" you mumble, still reeling from the encounter.

"That black car over there," Lando points and leans in close, his gaze locked with yours, "that's yours, right?"

You nod, still not quite ready to speak.

Lando releases your hand and holds out his palm to you. "Okay, car keys, please?"

"What? No," you shake your head, rejecting the idea. "There's no need for that."

"Come on, I'm a Formula One driver, remember? I won't crash it."

"It would be irresponsible of me to let you drive in this state," he adds, his voice firm.

"And what about your hand?" you nod toward the injury.

"Like I said," Lando smiles slyly, cocking his head to the side, "I drive race cars; I think I can handle driving with one hand."

Rolling your eyes, you relent, "Okay, fine."

With a sigh, you fish out the car keys from your bag and hand them over to him.

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

[simmerianne93]

[Simmerianne93]Infant_poses_02

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Hello everyone!!! How are you today??!!!

I had the honor of being asked to be part of a wonderful collaboration that will be taking place between November and December.

The collaboration is called "Family member" and as you can imagine it is centered around family . The serenade of shadows (TSOS) is the host of this beautiful collaboration and it came to life because of the recent "problem" that there was with a certain "creator" in the community...

We want to keep going with positive vibes and bring a bit of each of us to your family gameplay... HERE you can read a full post about the collab, by TSOS. My part will be shared each friday... so expect a pack centered on family each friday these last two months of the year...

Now, I was going to post this pack yesterday but had no time to do it e.e but I want to start this Collab with a small infant pack centered on those "meeting the baby" moments...

I made these poses for a post on insta and i wasn't going to publish them but i shared a screenshot of one of the poses and a lot of people were excited with it so I decided to polish and finish the pack and bring it on to your games through this collab...

I really hope you enjoy them!!!

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What is on it?

4 trio poses (Made with 2 female rigs,and an infant rig) + 3 all in one.

1 Duo pose (Made with 2 female rigs,and an infant rig)

1 Groupal pose (Made with 5 female rigs,and an infant rig)

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What do you need?

Andrew's poses player 

Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo or Mccc by deaderpool.

Invisible infant mat replacement  by mcrudd  (OPTIONAL FOR INFANTS WHO HAVEN'T LEARN HOW TO SIT YET)

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Instructions on the original post.

——

TOU

Do not claim my creations as your own.

Do not re-upload or modify my creations.

Do not make money of my creations.

Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.

Please follow my Term Of Use.

——

⬇⬇⬇

Download it now here — ALL MY POSES ON THIS COLLAB ARE FREE TO DOWNLOAD WITH NO EARLY ACCESS.

⬆⬆⬆

——————

If you want to support me:  Patreon | Ko-fi

For more poses: Pinterest |  Wix

My socials: Twitter | Instagram | BlueSky

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I really hope you like them and I will say on advance: Thank you so much for use them.

@ts4-poses

[megalony]

Baby-Trapped - Part 2

This is the second part of my Evan Buckley imagine, thank you all for the amazing feedback on the first part. I hope you will like this next one, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) distances herself from Evan when the people at her college believe he shouldn't be with someone younger and inexperienced like her. But things change when she falls pregnant.

Enjoy.

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A smile worked its way onto Evan's lips and he paused, looking down at the pair of arms that wound their way around his waist. He felt (Y/n)'s face press into his back between his shoulder blades and her palms spread out over his chest, gluing herself to him.

He could feel each shallow breath she took which fanned through his shirt and heated up his back.

"Have you had a drink yet?" He pushed away the bowl of salad so it was further back on the counter before he reached his hands down. Both hands moved to cup (Y/n)'s wrists and he tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling as he wanted for an answer.

When he didn't get a response, he knew the answer was no. He gave her wrists a squeeze and slowly turned round in her arms so he could tangle his arms around her and keep her pinned up against him.

"You'll make yourself ill," Evan scolded with a stern expression that started to fade the moment (Y/n) smiled sheepishly up at him.

"I'm nervous." It wasn't much of an excuse, but it was the truth.

(Y/n) was too nervous to sit down, too nervous to stop and take a full breath and too panicked to think about trying to get a drink and keep her fluids up.

Evan's team were coming round for tea.

This was going to be the first time (Y/n) would meet the people he worked with, the people he classed as his family. (Y/n) knew what they meant to him. She knew his Captain had practically become his surrogate father and his colleagues were like his siblings that kept him grounded and got him through each shift at work.

And his big sister was coming over too. Maddie was the one who raised Evan since he was a child, she was the one he looked up to and seeked her approval of almost every aspect of his life. He strived to make her proud.

This was a big family unit and it wasn't something that (Y/n) was used to. She wasn't close to her parents and she didn't have any siblings. If this dinner tonight didn't go well, (Y/n) would ruin everything. She would make things awkward for Evan when all she wanted to do was make him proud and get along with his friends. She needed to gel with them and slowly intergrate herself with them so they could all get along.

There was nothing worse than feeling like the odd one out and feeling like nobody liked her or thought of her as one of their own. (Y/n) didn't want to be on the outside looking in.

"Baby…" Evan moved his hands up until he could cup (Y/n)'s face and brush his thumbs beneath her eyes. She was drifting. Panicking. Overthinking. "If I love you, then everyone else will too. Stop panicking and go get something to drink, I've barely seen you drink all day."

Leaning down, Evan captured her with a kiss before he walked her backwards and nudged her towards the fridge. Passing out the first night she met the team wouldn't be the best way to start things.

(Y/n) found a can of pop from the fridge and got Evan another beer which she barely managed to put on the counter without dropping when there was a knock at the front door.

She wasn't ready.

Maybe it would have been a better idea to try and meet everyone slowly, individually. Start out with Maddie and see how they got along, and then move on to meet Eddie, then Bobby and so on.

But it just so happened that everyone had today off shift, and that wasn't something that happened often. And (Y/n) couldn't help but agree when Evan asked if she wanted to take this chance and meet the team. Diving right in would get rid of her anxiety because she would meet everyone in one fell swoop. Rather than dividing everyone up and doing it in stages. This would be quicker.

And (Y/n) knew Evan wanted to introduce (Y/n) now because they were going for their twelve-week scan next week. That was when he wanted to tell everyone that he was going to be a dad.

He wanted to invite Maddie out somewhere, just the three of them, and tell her that she was going to be an auntie. That he was going to have his first child and see his sister smile and be proud of him. And then tell the team. And Evan couldn't tell any of them without them meeting (Y/n) first. Introductions first, big news later. Evan wasn't great at hiding secrets.

"Here we go," Evan murmured softly, moving his hands to (Y/n)'s shoulders so he could kiss the back of her head to keep her calm. He weaved around behind her and moved towards the front door with anticipation, wondering who was first to arrive.

(Y/n) took a quick gulp of her drink and wrung her hands out in front of her to try and rid some of the nervous tension she felt.

Her stomach was knotting itself up and she felt like she was going to be sick. She'd already thrown up everything she had for breakfast and lunch which had put Evan on edge all afternoon. Especially since he knew she had barely had two drinks all day because of a mixture of nerves and morning sickness.

She moved round towards the kitchen island and leaned on the edge, pressing her hands into the sharp counter that also jabbed into her hips as she pushed up on her toes. Her lips rolled together nervously and she felt her chest tightening up, unable to let her catch a proper breath.

"Okay, guys, this is (Y/n)." Evan couldn't quite hide the smile on his lips and it made (Y/n)'s stomach skip a beat.

Her eyes followed Evan was he walked back into the apartment, his hands on a woman's shoulders who was a good few inches shorter than him. He gave her shoulders a squeeze and leaned his chin on top of her head before he glanced to his right.

"This is Chimney, and this is my big sister Maddie."

It was clear by the way Evan clung to her that she was his sister (Y/n) had heard so much about. She had a bright, inviting smile and her eyes creased when she smiled. Her neck was lathered in three different necklaces and she had a few rings on both hands. With her hair pinned up on one side and her nails painted dark blue to match the blazer and trousers she was wearing, she looked lovely. Fashionable, even.

(Y/n) was taken a little by surprise when Maddie reached out to hug her. She wasn't used to making a lot of friends or meeting the family of friends. And Evan was someone special. (Y/n) wanted to get along with anyone who was important to him.

Being hugged straight away by Maddie felt like she was being intergrated and welcomed with open arms from the off-set.

"It's so lovely to finally meet you, Buck talks about you, a lot."

She could feel the blood rushing to her head making her sway on her feet as she clung to Maddie and squeezed her in return.

"All good I hope?" When they parted, (Y/n) moved towards the kitchen as Evan went back to the door at the sound of another knock. "Do you want something to drink?"

She found a bottle of wine and a beer from the fridge, holding them out so they could choose. Making herself useful stopped (Y/n) from panicking so much and gave her something to focus on. She could hear Evan laughing at something, or someone, as the sound of footsteps thundered through the apartment.

Evan could feel his own nerves dwindling down when he showed the rest of the team through into the kitchen. Where Bobby and Hen immediately sat down at the bar stools next to Chimney who was leaning casually on the counter.

But when Evan looked over at (Y/n) and Maddie, he could feel his heart hammering out in his chest. They were laughing. Their heads were leaned close together, their laughs were mixing together and they were fumbling to try and open the bottle of wine while Maddie steadied two wine glasses in her hands.

That was what he had been hoping for. Seeing the two most important people in his life getting along like a house on fire.

"You must be (Y/n)." Bobby grinned and leaned his elbows on the counter when the younger girl placed two different cans of pop in front of him so he could choose. She could tell from the way he held himself and the description she got from Evan that this had to be Bobby. And she knew he didn't drink, much like her for the next few months.

She nodded with a tender smile and passed a glass over to Eddie and one to Hen while Maddie took over pouring the drinks.

"This is our Captain Bobby. That's Hen, and that's Eddie. This is my girl, (Y/n)."

A smile lit up (Y/n)'s face when Evan walked behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Reeling her into his chest so he could merge his lips against the top of her head. He swayed them from side to side with a bright smile when (Y/n) gave his hands a reassuring squeeze.

"It's great to meet you, Evan's told me a few stories from your station."

"God, what has he told you?" Eddie threw his head back with a grin and took a large gulp of wine as he slumped forward on the counter. But his intrigue only sparked when (Y/n) smirked around her drink and held his gaze.

Oh, she was going to play that game. Evan had told her a few stories then, as ammunition for a good night.

"You call him Evan?" Hen held her glass to her lips and leaned her shoulders back against the fridge with one arm wrapped around her chest. It had been so long since any of them had heard or called Evan by his name that she almost forgot what it was. There were still a few people who referred to Chimney as Howie, but Hen didn't know anyone who called Evan by his first name. Not even Maddie anymore.

(Y/n) nodded, moving her free hand to play with the chain of her necklace. It was how Evan introduced himself to her. He didn't say his name was Buck, because that was his nickname and on a first introduction he could hardly say his name was Buck Buckley.

But she kept using his name because she knew Evan loved it. She was the only person who called him by his first name and it did something to him. It excited him and grounded him and made him feel at home.

"Why?"

"Because he likes it." Her response made them all grin, and when she turned to the right where Evan was taking the lasagna out the oven, she could see him smile. His cheeks flushed from both adrenaline and the heat of the oven he was leaning into. "He only got the nickname for work," She added quietly, although no one was complaining and there was no need to explain further.

"Did you?" Chimney looked over at Evan with raised brows. "I thought it was just your nickname, from college or whatever."

"There were three Evans in his class at the fire academy, they had to differentiate."

Evan paused, halfway between the oven and the table with his eyes following after his girl.

She remembered. She remembered that story which he had told her on their second date when he mentioned most people would call him Buck, not Evan. He didn't think it would stick or that it was something that important, but (Y/n) remembered. She wanted to know why he had a nickname and why he seemed to love her using his proper name.

His eyes followed (Y/n) as she took the salad bowl over to the table along with the bottle of wine.

A few looks passed around the kitchen as everyone grabbed their glasses and followed to sit down since it was clearly time to eat. They were all thinking the same thing, as clear as day.

She was a keeper.

(Y/n) felt quite at ease when she had Evan sat on her left with his hand resting on her thigh. She had Eddie on her right, Bobby at the right end of the table, Hen at the other end and then Maddie and Chimney sat opposite them. It didn't feel as cramped as (Y/n) panicked it would and she could tell she was already fitting in with them and it felt like they were all glueing together.

"So, Buck said you're in college, what are you studying?" Hen leaned over to add some salad to her plate and looked over at (Y/n).

The conversation was flowing rather easily between them all. It was something (Y/n) was worried would be stiffled and broken, but she had been panicking for nothing.

Although just the thought of college made her stomach give an awful twist and sent her knee jittering against Evan's.

"I'm doing a degree in nursing." She tried to smile and tilted her head down towards her plate, but she didn't feel so hungry. Not after throwing everything up throughout the day and now feeling like her stomach was doing summersaults.

"Oh wow, so when we get busted up on shift, we can just get (Y/n) to patch us up."

"We're both medics Chim, so is Eddie." Hen waved her hand across at him as if he had forgotten what they all did for a living. Especially when Maddie mumbled a quiet "And I'm a qualified nurse too." in his ear.

Not that none of them wouldn't go to (Y/n), but they all pitched in to look after each other. And no one suspected Evan would be willing to share his girl, she was going to be his personal nurse and his only. He wasn't the sharing type, he was the jealous type.

"Well it's good news for me," Evan murmured and pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head.

"Yeah, danger-prone Daphne can have his own nurse so we don't have to patch him up." Bobby grinned and dodged quickly when Evan flicked his fork across the table at him, splattering red sauce on the collar of his shirt.

He wasn't as bad as he used to be when he was a teenager. Evan wasn't vying for anyone's attention anymore. He knew the people around him could see him for who he truly was. He didn't have to get hurt or break a bone for someone- his parents- to take notice of him and give him some love and attention. He had all the attention he wanted.

Evan kept his right arm looped over the back of (Y/n)'s chair and curled his hand around her shoulder. He leaned back in his seat and parted his knees to the side while his left elbow propped up on the table. It felt good to have (Y/n)'s head on his shoulder and her fingers trailing up and down his thigh to give her something to focus on.

"Don't you like Buck's cooking? He's taking lessons from Cap."

(Y/n) looked to the right when Eddie noticed she had barely touched her plate whereas the rest of them were almost finished. They were used to eating quick, everyone at the station had developed a high metabolism because of how little time they had to eat meals.

"I- I'm still a little nervous I guess." She was hungry, but she didn't feel like she could eat much. She still had a full can of pop left which she had barely touched and she knew if Evan noticed he would be watching her closer like a hawk.

She tilted her head to the left and pressed her forehead into Evan's neck, breathing in his scent and feeling the way his throat moved when he laughed at one of Chimney's jokes. The atmosphere was good; there was no need for (Y/n) to be nervous. They were all getting on like a house on fire.

But (Y/n) closed her eyes and moved her free hand to wrap around her waist when her stomach twisted.

She wasn't sure if she was starting to feel sick or if her nerves were getting the better of her. With her temple pressed into Evan's neck, (Y/n) couldn't tell for a moment if it was him or her who was beginning to sweat. The trickle of water that slithered down her neck told (Y/n) she was the one starting to get flushed.

She could feel her ears tuning out of the conversation around the table, she could barely hear what Evan was saying or work out what he was laughing at.

When her stomach gave an awful, twisted cramp, (Y/n) jolted into Evan and inbedded her arm into her waist. She felt Evan's arm loop tighter around her shoulders and his head tilted down to look at her.

"Okay?"

(Y/n) wanted to smile, she wanted to nod and say she was fine, but she couldn't find her voice or the will to lie. She wasn't so sure she did feel okay after all as another cramp burned in her abdomen.

Her chin pressed down into her chest and she pushed her palm down onto Evan's thigh to use him as leverage to stand up. She could feel their eyes fall on her as the conversation tapered off and quietened down when she turned away and headed into the kitchen. Her hands started to shake, one arm still around her waist with her other hand trembling against the counter that she used to stop herself from falling down.

As soon as the bin was within reach, (Y/n) doubled over just in time to throw up. Her hands gripped the bin and her stomach clenched as she doubled over and bent her knees, pressing her kneecaps into the bin to stay upright.

"Oh no." Evan dropped his fork on his plate and got up, jogging from the table into the kitchen.

He smoothed his hand up and down (Y/n)'s back and gently moved her hair behind her ear before she threw up in it. His lips merged with the back of her head as he moved both hands to her hips and held her up when she looked like she was going to fall into the bin and take it down to the floor.

He couldn't tell whether this was morning sickness acting up or if (Y/n)'s nerves were getting the better of her. Or maybe it was a mixture of both.

"I'm s-sorry-"

"Don't apologise, you're okay." Evan curled his left arm around (Y/n)'s waist and gently reeled her up into his chest while he grabbed a glass with his right hand and filled it with water. He handed the glass over but his lips curled into a grimace when (Y/n) tried to take a mouthful but ended up coughing it back into the bin.

(Y/n) let Evan take her weight and leaned back into him, gripping his wrist when his arm secured back around her middle like an iron bar preventing her from flopping down to the floor.

His lips meshed against the back of her head while his other hand gave her hip a reassuring squeeze. When she nodded, he turned them around and gently walked them back towards the table where all eyes were watching them with worry and apprehension.

"Was that the nerves, or the cooking? Should we be worried?" Maddie tried to break the tension and looked down at her plate that was just about cleared. Did they need to worry about food poisoning or any of the ingredients being off, or was this just (Y/n)'s nerves playing her up?

(Y/n) tried to smile but she couldn't find it in herself when another throbbing cramp burned in her abdomen and had her arms binding around her waist. She let Evan slump her down in her chair and suddenly she didn't care about everyone watching them. She let herself fold over and pressed her forehead down against the edge of the table with her hands meshed into her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Eddie clamped his hand down on the back of (Y/n)'s chair and turned to face her and Evan. He wasn't so sure this was nerves when she looked like she was in pain.

His eyes flickered over to Evan who sat back down in his seat, one hand moving up and down (Y/n)'s back while his other hand was pressed tightly against his mouth to hide his worried expression.

"I… um," (Y/n) tried to lift herself up and look at Evan.

She didn't know if she was alright or not, this didn't feel normal, but then again, she wasn't sure what was supposed to be normal anymore. Was this normal because she hadn't been eating and drinking properly? Or was this something they should be worrying about?

She couldn't tell them she was pregnant. Evan wanted to wait. He wanted to sit Maddie down and tell her first and give her the scan picture they were going to get next week. Then he wanted to tell the team separately. She didn't want to ruin things and tell them this way or panic any of them. This was the first time they were all meeting, (Y/n) wanted to get along with them not worry them for no reason.

"(Y/n)'s pregnant… we're having a baby."

Evan had to tell them. He didn't like the pain (Y/n) seemed to be feeling or the fact that she hadn't kept anything down today or much of yesterday either. If she was in pain he might have to take her to the emergency room. And he had his team here, at least one of them could assess her and see whether this was an emergency or not.

He watched the round of surprised faces stare back at him like he'd grown a second head in front of them all.

But it was Maddie who his eyes focused more intently on and the way her hands started flapping at her sides like she was a bird growing wings. Her lips parted into a smile and she tapped her hand against the table before something seemed to dawn on her.

"Oh, maybe we should take you to a doctor sweetie, just to be safe."

"No, it's j-just cramps-"

"Baby you shouldn't be getting those at all. You're probably dehydrated, you need to see a doctor." Evan slid his arm around her waist and reeled her back into his chest so she couldn't fold over again.

He watched carefully as Eddie gently took her wrist to feel her pulse before he pressed his hand against her temple and then lifted her eyelid to check her pupils. "If you are dehydrated, that could cause the cramps, you should get checked, maybe get an IV and fluids back in your system."

"Alright, let's go." Evan kept his arms looped around (Y/n)'s waist while Eddie stood in front of her for precaution as Evan eased her up. "I've had a drink-"

"I've only had one, I'll drive you." Eddie patted Evan's shoulder and checked his pocket for his phone and his keys while everyone round the table got up.

"I'll go with you." Maddie rubbed her hand up and down Evan's arm and reached over to take (Y/n)'s hand.

***

"How we doin'?"

(Y/n) tightened her hand around Evan's and moved her free hand to curl around his bicep. She pulled his arm so it was pinned into her chest while she pressed her nose and mouth against his exposed arm. She could feel her heart hammering against her chest and adrenaline pooling in her stomach when she looked around the waiting room.

The team were all here.

She knew Eddie and Maddie had offered to stay since Eddie drove them down and Maddie travelled down with them just to make sure they were all okay, but (Y/n) didn't expect them to stay. And she thought Bobby would have taken Chimney and Hen home.

All five of them were sat in the waiting room, looking very relaxed and not a bit put out or annoyed.

(Y/n) had dampened the mood of the night by needing a trip to the emergency room. She thought they would have gone home or gone back to one of their homes and finished the night off together. (Y/n) was expecting them to call Evan and ask if she was okay and say how she had ruined their first night meeting her.

She was expecting him to get a phone call from one of them to ask how old she was and if he was serious about having a baby with her. She didn't see their faces round the table when Evan told them; (Y/n) didn't know if they were going to be happy or concerned.

"You… you all stayed?" She looked around the waiting room before her eyes looked up at Evan who smiled softly down at her. He leaned to peck her temple while his other hand cupped the back of her neck to keep her close.

"Of course we stayed, we wanted to make sure you're both okay… you are okay, right?" Bobby planted his hands down on his hips as he stood up, looking between them with a cautious smile. Since he couldn't see tears or panicked looks and since (Y/n) seemed to be discharged, he guessed things were okay.

"Someone's dehydrated, but an hour on an IV's done the trick."

(Y/n) kept her face smothered in Evan's arm and clung to him tighter. Perhaps she should have listened to him earlier when he told her to have a few more drinks and try to drink some water. The cramps were because she wasn't eating or drinking properly but since they had disappeared and her blood pressure was fine, she was being discharged.

And their scan for next week had been moved up to tomorrow, just as a precaution so they could make sure the baby was okay and had no further issues.

"You didn't have to wait," (Y/n) murmured softly as they all made a beeline down the corridor, walking slowly towards the exit.

"Oh please, you're one of us now. We look after each other, we weren't going anywhere without you."

She could feel tears burning in her eyes at Hen's words and she smiled against Evan's arm as he gave her hand a tight squeeze. She was one of them. The team loved her. They didn't think badly of her or think of her as some little kid trying to use and abuse Evan. They knew she loved him and they knew she was going to fit in and be one of them.

They looked after their own, if one of them was in the hospital then they would all be there to make sure they were okay.

Her head turned to the right when she felt Maddie walking at her side and the older girl suddenly looped their arms together and leaned close to her. Maddie pressed her chin on (Y/n)'s shoulder, grinning madly between her and Evan like there was some big secret hanging in the air.

"So… I'm gonna be an aunt, finally?"

"You're happy?" (Y/n) felt Evan scoff beside her and he leaned down to press his lips against her hairline.

"I told you she'd be happy, stop worrying." He almost found it funny that (Y/n) asked Maddie the same thing she'd asked him. He wondered if she would ask everyone special in their lives if they were happy about the news. And he had a strange feeling that if she asked his parents, they would somehow be happy. They may not get along well with Evan, but they would be pleased he was at this stage in his life where he had found someone brilliant to settle down with.

"I'm thrilled, my little brother's having a baby. He's gonna be a big papa bear." Maddie squeezed (Y/n)'s arm and grinned as if she was the one who was having a baby. Her expression was so giddy that it made (Y/n)'s blood spark with adrenaline.

She agreed with that. Evan was going to be a great, cuddly, soft papa bear when they had this baby.

***

When Evan walked through the door, he fought to kick off his boots and let his shoulders drop down now that he was inside. It was as if the bed was crying out his name, telling him it had been over twenty four hours since he'd last got some sleep. He needed to go to bed.

He slung his work bag down by his boots, he would sort it out and tidy up in the morning; it was too late and he was too tired to bother now.

He dragged his feet behind him and shuffled across into the kitchen, rooting through the fridge for a drink. But when he turned around, his brows narrowed and he leaned his head to the side.

Why was the lamp on in the living room?

Downing the whole bottle of water in one swoop, Evan left it on the counter and walked out the kitchen. He passed the dining table, his head still tilted to one side as he tried to see if (Y/n) was still down here or if she had just left the light on for him.

His lips rolled into a thin line and his hands found his hips and he looked around the living room.

It was nearly eleven o'clock at night, and here she was. Sat cross-legged on the rug in nothing but one of Evan's lounge shirts. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, she had a pen clenched between her lips, a red marker pen tucked behind her ear. Two textbooks were laid out on the coffee table and revision cards littered the floor like she was performing some kind of omen or seance.

After dragging his eyes up and down her body a few times, Evan realised she had her headphones in. She hadn't heard him come in.

He made sure he wasn't about to stand on any of her revision cards and slowly went down on his knees behind her. He watched to make sure she wasn't writing any notes down; Evan knew how precise and neat (Y/n) made her notes and he didn't want to scare her and make her ruin them.

Satisfied she wasn't writing, he leaned forward and clamped his hands down on her hips. His chest pressed into her back and his face tucked into her neck, shivering as she screamed, spitting out the pen she had between her lips. A jolt ran through her body that jerked forward near the coffee table and ragged, panting breaths left her lips as she whipped her head to the right to look over at him.

"Evan!"

(Y/n) slapped his wrist and fumbled to move her legs and bring her knees up to her stomach. She let herself slouch back into his chest with her head on his shoulder. Her eyes closed tight and she took out her earphones, tossing them on the table now that her heart was pounding in her ears instead.

She hadn't realised it was so late. Once she'd gotten into the swing of revising, she lost herself and track of time. It was something to pass the time while waiting for Evan to come home. She didn't like being on her own during the night if he wasn't here. It didn't feel right without him.

"Sorry," She could tell by his tone that he wasn't really apologetic, and the feeling of his lips smiling against her neck also told her otherwise. "Do you know what time it is, baby?"

His words feathered over her skin while he started to press open-mouthed kisses along her neck and up towards her jaw. He was distracting. (Y/n) found herself melting into his touch and focusing on his actions rather than responding to his words.

She felt his left arm loop around her waist, pinning her into his chest while his right hand trailed up and down her inner thigh. With her knees pulled up like this, the shirt she was wearing had ridden up to her hips, giving him a perfect view of her bare legs and the top of her underwear.

"I got carried away," She whispered softly, turning her head so she could capture him in a kiss.

She had to keep herself busy somehow with Evan being out at work all day and into the evening.

"I think you've studied enough for one night, baby."

His hand left her thigh, but only so he could take the marker from behind her ear and toss it onto the table where he flipped both textbooks closed. He gave the notebooks a gentle push out of his way before his fingers latched back around her thigh and started to squeeze.

He inched backwards, pulling (Y/n) with him and turning her around so he could loop her thighs around his hips. He didn't exactly give her a choice and his baiting grin told her this was non-negotiable.

"I have a test tomorrow," (Y/n) leaned forward and smothered her face against his shoulder while her arms curved around the back of his neck. "I need to pass."

(Y/n) knew this test only counted for twenty-five percent of the final grade, but she still had to pass. She needed to pass so she didn't have to re-take the test or God forbid, redo some of this year again. Her grades were good, but her panic levels were even worse and (Y/n) was feeling the pressure. Everything had timed out perfectly thus far.

Meeting and falling for Evan, passing every class and each yearly test so she didn't have to retake anything. And now she was pregnant, her due date lined up with her graduation date. She could graduate before she had the baby. Get all her classes and tests out the way now while she was pregnant, graduate, and then college would be finished.

(Y/n) could have their baby, take some time and then find a job and start a new job alongside her new little family.

So that meant she had to graduate this year. She had to pass this test. She had to study.

"And you will, but you need to rest and go in with a clear head. Come on, we're off to bed." Both his hands slid beneath her scrunched up shirt so he could grip her bum as he pushed up to his feet and lifted her up with him.

He knew this was important, but he also knew that (Y/n) had been studying for long enough and she knew all the subsections she was going to be quizzed on tomorrow. She was prepared for this, but Evan needed her to come to bed and get some sleep so she was fully prepared and not going in feeling sick.

"I know, but-"

"No buts. You'll do great because you're my smart-ass girl. I'm off tomorrow so I'll drop you off and I'll pick you up. Eddie and Chris have invited us round for tea tomorrow, if you're up for it too."

He could feel (Y/n) grinning into his shoulder as he began walking them both up the stairs.

Since most of the class- and a few others on campus- had found out she was pregnant, curtesy of Sandra, (Y/n) had been anxious about going in. No one said anything, barely anyone glared or even looked at her like she thought they would. It wasn't like high school, there was no stigma attached to having a baby in college.

It was only the small cliché of girls in (Y/n)'s class that still thought she was doing this for a game.

But seeing how thrilled Evan was about having their baby dampened down (Y/n)'s nerves, and she felt better when he could drop her off. Especially if he could pick her up from class too. (Y/n) practically ran to the jeep to get away. It was like Evan had become her suit of armour.

As much as the girls wanted and loved to gossip, none of them said anything when they saw Evan waiting outside. (Y/n) felt brave enough to go to class and get through each lesson, knowing that when she left, most of the time, Evan was right there to pick her up.

"Sounds perfect."

[sirfrogsworth]

These folks watched a whole ass movie not realizing the main character was transgender and it was a 2 second kiss between men that made them lose their ever-loving minds.

It's amazing to me that if it weren't for those 2 seconds, many of these folks would have given this movie a 4 or 5 star review. But two seconds of the most vanilla, non-sexy, yet genuine and loving kiss somehow ruined every moment of enjoyment the previous 90 minutes brought them.

Imagine if they realized the trans allegory. I wish I had a way to tell them. I wish I had a way to make them realize they related to a trans character. That they rooted for them. That they accidentally empathized with a trans story.

This was a beautiful movie. In every sense. I really hope between this and Spider-Verse, we can have a moratorium on every 3D animated movie using this style of character design.

It's time to let go of the rubber toy look.

I love Toy Story, but its success kind of doomed 3D animation to never take any risks. I thought maybe it was just a limitation of the medium, and perhaps it was for a time... but after seeing Love Death + Robots and Arcane...

I realized they can make 3D animation look however the hell they want now.

The rubber people were just risk avoidance.

"That's what people are used to and so we're sticking with it."

But the real beauty of Nimona was the story. I won't spoil it but the plot is pretty much, "If you get to know a trans person, you probably won't hate them anymore."

Not knowing any trans people is one of the biggest factors in anti-trans bigotry. And so this movie uses allegory to let an audience get to know a trans person. And you get to experience someone slowly start to understand what it is to be trans from an outside perspective.

It's sad that will probably be lost on those folks above because all they will remember is the kiss. Seriously, it was such a harmless, mundane, blink-and-you-miss-it kiss. But I'm hoping that others will take the lesson of this movie to heart. That you should get to know people before you judge them.

Part of me does wish we could tell trans stories without allegory. That we could just have overt trans characters. But I think this is the best representation possible right now.

It's crazy that Supergirl was one of the bravest shows as far as modern trans representation. It wasn't an edgy HBO drama trying to push boundaries. It was a family-friendly superhero show and they were just like, "Here is a transgender woman with superpowers and it's fine." And I loved that it was part of the character but it wasn't all the character was. Though I think they just missed the manufactured "moral panic" window where that choice would have been extremely controversial causing boycotts of Warner Bros. and whatnot.

My only complaint about Nimona was a small penis joke. It went by very quickly and many may even miss it. But I was surprised to see it in this movie in particular. Especially since those jokes can have collateral damage toward trans folks. With all of the positive messages, wasting a joke on body shaming was a tad disappointing. I mean, it was a fairly lighthearted "Is it cold in here?" joke. I don't want to make it sound worse than it was. But it still registered on my Richter scale of things that bother me.

Anyway, I wholeheartedly give Nimona a 5 out of 5. It helped me understand my friends on a deeper level and it was warm and funny and entertaining. There was a scene at the end that was so beautiful and heart-wrenching and I was crying my eyes out. The animation and the symbolism and the acting were just so perfect.

It's a shame Disney tried to kill this movie. But I am so glad it was allowed to exist despite that.

[bratzkoo]

[M] merging arrangements | wonwoo pt. 2

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: chaebol heir! wonwoo x chaebol heiress!/ nurse! reader Genre: angst, fluff, smut Rating: NC-17 Word count: 6k~ Warnings/note: for my Anna, my beautiful nurse. smut scenes, not graphic but it’s weird. don’t look at the first sex scene as romantic that much, pls. MINORS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, don’t read !!!

summary: Jeon Wonwoo's been smitten with you for years, as the two of you enter an arranged marriage, he hopes you'll feel the same.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The Maldives stretched out before them, a paradise of turquoise waters and powder-white sand beaches. Y/N stood on the balcony of their overwater bungalow, the warm breeze tugging at her hair. The setting sun painted the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink, reflecting off the calm ocean surface. It was breathtaking, like something out of a dream. And yet, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling that she was living someone else's fantasy.

Behind her, she heard the soft slide of the glass door. Wonwoo emerged from the room, two glasses of champagne in hand. He approached cautiously, as if afraid to startle her.

"It's beautiful," Y/N murmured, accepting the glass he offered. The crystal was cool against her palm, grounding her in the moment.

Wonwoo nodded, his eyes on her profile rather than the view. "It is," he agreed softly. There was something in his tone, a warmth that made Y/N glance at him. Their eyes met for a brief moment before both looked away, suddenly self-conscious.

An awkward silence fell between them. They were married now, alone together for the first time, and neither quite knew how to bridge the gap between stranger and spouse. The weight of expectations – from their families, from society, from themselves – hung heavy in the air.

Wonwoo cleared his throat, clearly searching for a safe topic. "So," he began, his voice a little too loud in the quiet evening, "tell me about your work at the hospital. What made you want to become a nurse?"

The question caught Y/N off guard. She had expected inquiries about her family, about her upbringing – the usual chaebol small talk. But this... this was personal. Genuine. She found herself smiling, grateful for the familiar topic.

"I've always wanted to help people," she began, her voice growing stronger as she spoke. "When I was little, I used to patch up my dolls, pretending they were patients. But it wasn't until high school that I really understood what nursing meant."

She paused, lost in the memory. "There was a car accident outside our school. A little boy was hurt, and I saw a nurse who happened to be passing by take charge of the situation. She was so calm, so competent. She knew exactly what to do to help that child, to comfort him until the ambulance arrived. I knew then that's what I wanted to do with my life."

As Y/N spoke, her eyes lit up with passion, her hands gesturing animatedly. Wonwoo found himself captivated. This was the Y/N he'd fallen for years ago – passionate, determined, alive with purpose. So different from the quiet, reserved bride he'd married just days ago.

"That's... amazing," Wonwoo said softly when she finished. "You must be very good at your job."

Y/N blushed slightly, unused to such direct praise. "I try to be. It's not always easy, but it's always worth it."

"I can imagine," Wonwoo nodded. "The responsibility must be immense."

"It is," Y/N agreed. "But there's nothing quite like the feeling of knowing you've made a difference in someone's life." She paused, then added with a small laugh, "Even if that someone is yelling at you because they don't want to take their medicine."

Wonwoo chuckled, a warm, rich sound that surprised them both. "I can't say I've ever had a client yell at me for trying to help them with their taxes."

This time, it was Y/N's turn to laugh. The sound seemed to lighten the air around them, easing some of the tension. They fell into a conversation about their respective professions, comparing the challenges and rewards of nursing and corporate finance.

As the last rays of sunlight faded from the sky, Y/N found herself relaxing. Wonwoo was... not what she had expected. He listened attentively, asked thoughtful questions, and even made her laugh with his dry observations about the corporate world.

Maybe, just maybe, this arranged marriage wouldn't be the disaster she had feared.

---

The days of their honeymoon passed in a blur of pristine beaches, gourmet meals, and tentative conversations. Slowly, the awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a cautious friendliness. Wonwoo proved to be a thoughtful companion, always ensuring Y/N's comfort and happiness. He remembered how she liked her coffee in the morning (one sugar, no cream), made sure there were always fresh flowers in their bungalow (he'd noticed how she admired the local blooms), and never pressured her for physical intimacy beyond what she was comfortable with.

Y/N, in turn, found herself warming to his quiet charm and genuine interest in her thoughts and dreams. She discovered that beneath his reserved exterior lay a sharp wit and a surprising depth of knowledge on a wide range of topics. Their conversations ranged from the latest advancements in medical technology to the intricacies of global finance, from their favorite books to their childhood dreams.

One afternoon, as they lounged on the beach, Y/N found herself studying Wonwoo's profile. He was handsome, she had to admit, in a classic, understated way. But it was more than that. There was a kindness to him, a gentleness that she hadn't expected in an arranged marriage.

"Wonwoo," she said suddenly, causing him to look up from his book. "Why did you agree to this marriage?"

He blinked, clearly surprised by the question. For a moment, Y/N thought he might deflect or give some generic answer about family duty. But then he closed his book, his expression thoughtful.

"Honestly?" he began, his voice low. "At first, it was about duty. About fulfilling my parents' expectations and securing the future of our company." He paused, his gaze drifting out to the ocean. "But then... I remembered meeting you at that charity gala a few years ago. Do you remember?"

Y/N shook her head. She'd attended so many galas over the years, all blending together in a haze of forced smiles and polite small talk.

Wonwoo smiled softly, lost in the memory. "You were talking to a group of doctors about your dream of becoming a nurse. You were so passionate, so determined. I remember thinking, 'This is someone who's going to change the world.'"

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, touched by the sincerity in his voice.

"When my parents suggested this arrangement," Wonwoo continued, "I thought maybe... maybe this could be a chance. To get to know you, to see if we could build something real."

For a moment, Y/N was speechless. It was perhaps the most Wonwoo had said at one time since they'd met. And the raw honesty in his words... it stirred something in her, a flutter of possibility.

"I... I don't know what to say," she admitted.

Wonwoo reached out, gently taking her hand. "You don't have to say anything. I know this isn't ideal for either of us. But I want you to know that I'm committed to making this work, whatever that means for us."

Y/N squeezed his hand, a small gesture of acknowledgment and perhaps, just perhaps, the beginning of something more.

---

On their last night in paradise, as the sun dipped below the horizon painting the sky in brilliant hues, Y/N and Wonwoo found themselves alone in their bungalow. The air was thick with unspoken expectations and nervous anticipation. They had shared kisses throughout the week, tender moments of connection, but nothing more. Now, with their return to Seoul looming, the weight of their unconsummated marriage hung between them.

Y/N stood by the window, watching the stars emerge in the darkening sky. Her heart raced, but not with anticipation. Instead, a heavy sense of duty settled in her chest. This was what was expected of her, wasn't it? To be a proper wife, to fulfill her role in this arranged marriage. The thought of her first time being born out of obligation rather than love left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Wonwoo approached slowly, his own heart pounding. He had dreamed of this moment for years, but now that it was here, he found himself terrified. Not of the act itself, but of disappointing Y/N, of hurting her in any way.

"Y/N," Wonwoo said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. She turned to face him, carefully schooling her features to hide her inner turmoil. He reached for her hand, his touch gentle. "We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with. I want you to know that I respect you, and I hope that in time, we can build something real. There's no rush."

His words, so full of consideration, made Y/N's heart ache. Part of her wanted to confess her fears, to tell him that she wasn't ready, that she was only considering this out of a sense of duty. But the larger part, the part that had been raised to always meet expectations, to never disappoint, pushed those feelings down.

Instead, she squeezed his hand and met his gaze, forcing a smile she didn't entirely feel. "Thank you, Wonwoo," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "I... I think I'd like to try. I trust you."

Wonwoo's breath caught at her words. He brought his free hand up to cup her cheek, his touch reverent. "Are you sure?" he asked, searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation. "Y/N, I know this is your first time. We can wait if you're not ready."

For a moment, Y/N almost broke. The genuine care in his voice made her want to be honest, to tell him that she wasn't sure, that she was scared and conflicted. But the weight of expectation, of duty, pressed down on her. She leaned into his touch, drawing on all her strength to maintain her facade. "I'm sure," she whispered, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. "I want it to be with you."

What followed was a night that left Y/N feeling more conflicted than ever. Wonwoo was incredibly gentle, taking things slow, always checking in with her. His tenderness only made Y/N feel worse about her deception, about the fact that she was going through with this out of obligation rather than desire.

As Wonwoo kissed her softly, his hands caressing her with utmost care, Y/N found herself torn between her sense of duty and unexpected moments of genuine response to his touch. Her body reacted to his gentle ministrations, even as her mind whirled with guilt and confusion.

"If anything feels uncomfortable, or if you want to stop at any point, just tell me," Wonwoo murmured, his forehead resting against hers. "Your comfort and happiness are the most important things to me."

Y/N nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She wished she could take him up on his offer, to stop and be honest about her feelings. But the thought of disappointing him, of failing in her role as a wife, kept her silent.

When the moment finally came, Wonwoo was incredibly patient and attentive. He distracted her from any discomfort with tender kisses and whispered words of encouragement. Y/N was surprised to find that despite her emotional turmoil, her body responded to him. The initial pain gave way to sensations she hadn't expected, moments of pleasure that only added to her confusion.

"Are you okay?" Wonwoo asked, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, of ensuring her comfort above his own pleasure.

Y/N nodded, her hands coming up to cup his face. "I'm okay," she whispered, and for a moment, it wasn't entirely a lie. "Please, don't stop."

As they moved together, Y/N found herself lost in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. There was the physical pleasure, yes, but also guilt, confusion, and a growing affection for Wonwoo that she hadn't anticipated. She looked up into his eyes, seeing in them a mixture of desire, affection, and something deeper that made her heart twist with a combination of warmth and regret.

For Wonwoo, the trust he believed Y/N was placing in him was humbling. He took his time, savoring every gasp, every soft moan, committing to memory the way she felt, the way she moved with him. His only goal was her pleasure, her comfort, unaware of the internal struggle raging within her.

As they reached their peak together, Y/N felt a sense of completion she hadn't expected, accompanied by a wave of guilt. It wasn't just physical satisfaction – it was emotional turmoil, a confusing mix of pleasure, duty fulfilled, and shame at her deception.

Afterward, as they lay tangled together, Wonwoo pressed soft kisses to Y/N's forehead, her cheeks, her lips. "Are you alright?" he murmured, his voice filled with tender concern. "How do you feel?"

Y/N took a moment to assess her feelings, surprised by the warmth and contentment flowing through her. Despite her initial reservations and the sense of duty that had driven her decision, the experience had been genuinely pleasurable and emotionally moving. "I feel... wonderful," she said softly, and realized with a start that it wasn't a lie. The guilt she'd expected to feel was there, but it was overshadowed by a confusing mix of physical satisfaction and emotional connection.

"Thank you for being so patient and gentle with me," she added, her voice thick with emotion.

Wonwoo's arms tightened around her, and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart. "Thank you for trusting me," he said quietly. "Y/N, I... I want you to know that this means everything to me. You mean everything to me."

His words brought tears to Y/N's eyes, which she didn't try to hide this time. She was overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice and the depth of her own response to him. She snuggled closer, partly out of a growing affection, and partly to process the complex swirl of emotions inside her.

"You mean so much to me too, Wonwoo," she said, and this was entirely true. Despite her initial motivations being rooted in duty, she had grown genuinely fond of him over their honeymoon, and this intimate experience had only deepened that feeling.

As they drifted off to sleep, tangled in each other's arms, Y/N found herself grappling with a confusing mix of emotions. The guilt at her initial deception was still there, but it was now intertwined with genuine affection for Wonwoo and a surprising contentment with their physical intimacy. The sense of duty that had initially driven her had been transformed into something more complex, more real.

Y/N's last conscious thought before sleep claimed her was one of cautious hope. She might have entered this marriage out of duty, might have approached this intimate moment with mixed motivations, but the genuine connection she felt with Wonwoo now gave her hope for their future. Moving forward, she would try to build something real with him, based on the unexpected feelings that had blossomed between them.

---

The return to Seoul brought with it a harsh return to reality. No sooner had they unpacked their suitcases than both sets of parents descended upon them, full of questions and expectations.

Y/N's mother cornered her in the kitchen, ostensibly to help prepare tea but clearly with an agenda in mind. "So," she began, her tone deceptively casual as she arranged delicate porcelain cups on a tray. "How was the honeymoon? Did you and Wonwoo... get along?"

The implication in her mother's tone was clear. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. "Mother," she said, a warning in her voice.

But her mother was undeterred. "I'm just saying, darling, it's never too early to start thinking about the future. When can we expect news of a grandchild?"

Y/N nearly dropped the teapot she was holding. "Mother, we've only just gotten back."

"And?" her mother pressed. "You're not getting any younger, Y/N. And the merger between our companies will be much more secure with a heir in the picture."

Before Y/N could respond, Wonwoo's voice came from the doorway. "Is everything alright?" he asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp as they took in Y/N's flushed face and tense posture.

"Of course, of course," Y/N's mother said smoothly, picking up the tea tray. "We were just having a little mother-daughter chat. Shall we join the others?"

As they made their way to the living room, Wonwoo fell into step beside Y/N. "Are you okay?" he murmured, low enough that only she could hear.

Y/N nodded, grateful for his concern. "I'm fine. Just... family pressures, you know?"

Wonwoo's hand found the small of her back, a comforting touch. "I understand. We're in this together, remember?"

His words, so similar to those he'd spoken on their honeymoon, helped steady her. Together, they entered the living room where their fathers were engaged in a discussion about the merger while Wonwoo's mother looked on with barely concealed impatience.

As Y/N and her mother served the tea, Wonwoo's father turned his attention to the newlyweds. "So," he began, his tone businesslike, "have you two given any thought to your future plans? The merger papers will be signed next week, and it would be good to have a clear picture of the next steps."

"Next steps?" Wonwoo asked, though the tightening of his jaw suggested he knew exactly what his father meant.

"An heir, of course," Wonwoo's mother chimed in. "It's never too early to start planning. The future of both our companies depends on a strong succession plan."

Y/N felt Wonwoo tense beside her. She reached for his hand under the table, a silent show of support.

Wonwoo's voice was calm but firm when he spoke. "We understand the importance, but we'd like some time to settle into married life first. Y/N's career is important to her, and to me. We'll start a family when we're ready."

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension palpable. Then Y/N's father cleared his throat. "Of course, of course. No need to rush. But do keep in mind the bigger picture. This merger is about more than just business – it's about creating a legacy."

The parents exchanged knowing looks but dropped the subject – for now. As the conversation turned to other topics, Y/N felt a mixture of relief and dread. This was only the beginning, she knew. The pressure would only increase as time went on.

Later that night, as they prepared for bed in their new shared apartment, Y/N found herself watching Wonwoo. He moved around the room with a quiet efficiency, his face thoughtful.

"Thank you," she said suddenly, causing him to look up in surprise. "For what you said earlier, about my career. It... it means a lot to me."

Wonwoo's expression softened. He crossed the room to her, taking her hands in his. "I meant what I said, Y/N. Your dreams, your ambitions – they're important to me because they're important to you. We're partners now, in every sense of the word."

Y/N felt a rush of warmth towards him. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was different from their honeymoon kisses – more familiar, more comfortable. When she pulled back, Wonwoo was smiling, a genuine, warm smile that reached his eyes.

"We'll figure this out," he said softly. "Together."

As they settled into bed, Y/N found herself believing him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, at least they would face them as a team.

---

Y/N's return to the hospital was a welcome respite from the suffocating expectations at home. The familiar bustle of the emergency room, the beeping of machines, the controlled chaos – it all felt wonderfully normal. As she changed into her scrubs, Y/N felt a sense of rightness settle over her. This was where she belonged.

She made her way to the nurses' station, nodding greetings to familiar faces as she passed. The hospital staff had been curious about her sudden marriage – gossip traveled fast in the healthcare world – but most had been respectful enough not to pry.

"Well, well, look who's back from paradise," a familiar voice called out as Y/N approached the nurses' station. Alexys, her friend and sometimes-nemesis from the medical technology department, was leaning against the counter, a mischievous grin on her face. "How was the honeymoon? Did you even leave the room?"

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up. "Alexys!" she hissed, glancing around to see if anyone had overheard. "Behave yourself."

"Never," Alexys grinned, unrepentant. She lowered her voice, leaning in conspiratorially. "But seriously, how are you doing? This whole arranged marriage thing... it's got to be weird, right?"

Before Y/N could respond, Dr. Ela joined them, her white coat crisp and her expression warm. "Welcome back, Y/N," she said, giving her friend a quick hug. "We've missed you around here. The ER just isn't the same without you keeping everyone in line."

Y/N smiled, grateful for her friends' presence. "Thanks, Ela. It's good to be back. I've missed this place."

"More than your new hubby?" Alexys teased, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Y/N rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, a new voice joined the conversation. "Hey, Y/N. Welcome back."

She turned to see Seungcheol approaching, a stack of files in his arms. He hesitated for a moment upon seeing her, then approached with a forced casualness. "Glad to have you back on the team," he added, his voice a little too bright to be natural.

Y/N felt a flutter in her stomach, a mixture of fondness and guilt. "Thanks, Seungcheol," she managed, acutely aware of Alexys and Ela watching the interaction with interest. "It's good to see you."

An awkward silence fell over the group. Ela, ever the peacemaker, cleared her throat. "Well, we should probably get to work.  Y/N, why don't you join me for rounds? I can catch you up on what you've missed."

Grateful for the interruption, Y/N nodded. "Sounds good. I'll see you guys later," she said, directing a small smile at Alexys and Seungcheol before following Ela down the hallway.

As they walked, Ela lowered her voice. "Are you okay? That seemed... tense."

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I'm fine. It's just... complicated, you know? Everything's changed so fast, and I'm not sure how to navigate it all."

Ela squeezed her friend's arm sympathetically. "I can't even imagine. But you know we're here for you, right? Whatever you need."

Y/N smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Ela. That means a lot."

As they began their rounds, Y/N found herself falling back into the familiar rhythm of hospital life. The complex cases, the worried families, the rush of adrenaline when a critical patient came in – it all reminded her why she'd fought so hard to continue her career.

However, throughout the day, she couldn't help but notice Seungcheol finding reasons to be near her – offering to help with difficult patients, bringing her coffee during her break, lingering to chat whenever possible. His attentions, once welcome, now filled her with a confused mix of emotions.

During a particularly hectic moment in the ER, Y/N found herself working alongside Seungcheol to stabilize a patient with multiple injuries from a car accident. Their teamwork was seamless, born from years of working together. As they successfully got the patient stable and ready for surgery, Seungcheol caught her eye, a look of admiration and something deeper in his gaze.

"We make a good team," he said softly, his hand brushing against hers as they both reached for the patient chart.

Y/N felt a jolt at the contact, memories of their past flirtations flooding back. She stepped back, creating some distance between them. "We always have," she replied, keeping her tone professional. "I should go update the family."

As she walked away, she could feel Seungcheol's eyes on her back. The guilt that had been simmering all day intensified. She cared for Seungcheol, she couldn't deny that. But she was married now, committed to making things work with Wonwoo. The situation was far more complicated than she'd ever imagined it would be.

Later in the day, Y/N found herself in the lab, waiting for some urgent test results. Alexys was there, bent over a microscope with intense concentration.

"Any chance those results are ready?" Y/N asked, trying to keep the impatience out of her voice.

Alexys looked up, a smirk playing on her lips. "Patience, Nurse Jeon. Quality takes time."

Y/N bristled at the use of her new surname. "It's still Nurse Kit at work, Alexys. And my patient doesn't have the luxury of time."

"Well, excuse me, Florence Nightingale," Alexys shot back, rolling her eyes. "But unlike some people, I can't just stick a thermometer in an ear and call it a day. These tests are delicate."

"And my patient's life depends on those results," Y/N retorted, her frustration mounting. "So if you could maybe work a little faster instead of making snide comments..."

"Ladies," a firm voice interrupted. They turned to see Ela standing in the doorway, her expression a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Let's remember we're all on the same team here. Alexys, how much longer for those results?"

Alexys had the grace to look slightly abashed. "Five minutes, tops."

Ela nodded. "Good. Y/N, why don't you go check on your patient in the meantime? I'll bring the results as soon as they're ready."

As Y/N left the lab, she could hear Ela gently admonishing Alexys. Despite her frustration, she felt a surge of affection for her friends. They might bicker and tease, but when it came down to it, they always had each other's backs.

The rest of the shift passed in a blur of patients, paperwork, and the usual hospital drama. By the time Y/N was changing out of her scrubs, she felt physically and emotionally drained. As she gathered her things from her locker, she heard a soft knock. Looking up, she saw Seungcheol standing in the doorway of the locker room.

"Hey," he said, his voice gentle. "Tough shift?"

Y/N nodded, too tired to maintain her earlier professional distance. "Yeah, but we got through it. That's what matters."

Seungcheol stepped into the room, closing the distance between them. "Y/N, I... I know things are different now. But I want you to know that I'm still here for you. As a friend, as a colleague... as whatever you need me to be."

The sincerity in his voice made Y/N's heart ache. "Seungcheol, I—"

"You don't have to say anything," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "I know you're married now. I respect that. I just... I needed you to know."

Before Y/N could respond, her phone buzzed with a text. It was from Wonwoo: "Hope you had a good first day back. Dinner's waiting at home when you're ready."

The message was a stark reminder of her new reality. She looked back at Seungcheol, seeing the mixture of hope and resignation in his eyes. "I should go," she said softly. "But thank you, Seungcheol. For everything."

As she left the hospital, Y/N felt the weight of her complicated emotions settling over her. She was married to Wonwoo, committed to making their arrangement work. But her history with Seungcheol, the ease of their connection, the what-ifs... it all swirled in her mind, making her question everything.

The drive home was a blur, Y/N's thoughts too chaotic to focus on anything but the road ahead. As she entered the apartment she now shared with Wonwoo, the smell of home-cooked food greeted her. She found Wonwoo in the kitchen, plating what looked like a gourmet meal.

He looked up as she entered, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Welcome home," he said, his voice gentle. "I thought you might be hungry after your first day back."

The domesticity of the scene, so at odds with the turmoil of her day, nearly brought Y/N to tears. "You cooked?" she managed, setting down her bag.

Wonwoo nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. "I'm not as good as the chefs at the resort, but I wanted to do something nice for you. How was your day?"

As they sat down to eat, Y/N found herself opening up about her day – the challenges with patients, the bickering with Alexys, the comfort of being back in her element. She carefully avoided mentioning Seungcheol, guilt gnawing at her for the omission.

Wonwoo listened attentively, asking thoughtful questions and offering words of support. As they cleared the dishes together, he suddenly turned to her, his expression serious.

"Y/N, I want you to know how much I admire what you do," he said. "Your dedication to your patients, your passion for your work... it's incredible. I know our families are pushing for you to give up nursing, but I want you to know that I support you, completely."

Overwhelmed by his words, Y/N felt tears pricking at her eyes. Without thinking, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Wonwoo in a tight hug. He returned the embrace, his strong arms enveloping her, providing a sense of safety and comfort she hadn't realized she needed.

As they stood there in the kitchen, holding each other, Y/N felt some of her earlier confusion begin to fade. Yes, her feelings were complicated. Yes, there were challenges ahead. But in that moment, with Wonwoo's steady heartbeat against her ear, she felt a sense of rightness. This was her husband, the man she had committed to building a life with. And maybe, just maybe, they could make this work.

"Thank you," she whispered against his chest. "For understanding. For supporting me."

Wonwoo pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Always," he murmured. "We're in this together, remember?"

As they prepared for bed that night, the air between them was charged with a new awareness. The physical intimacy they'd shared on their honeymoon had been tentative, exploratory. But now, with the reality of their daily lives settling in, there was a different kind of intimacy developing – one built on mutual respect, understanding, and the beginnings of genuine affection.

When Wonwoo kissed her goodnight, Y/N felt a flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with duty or obligation. As she drifted off to sleep, Wonwoo's arm draped protectively over her waist, she found herself looking forward to the future they would build together.

But even as she succumbed to sleep, a small part of her mind couldn't help but wonder about the path not taken, and the man she'd left behind at the hospital. The road ahead was far from simple, but Y/N was beginning to realize that the heart rarely followed a straightforward path.

The next few weeks fell into a rhythm. Y/N threw herself into her work at the hospital, while Wonwoo divided his time between the office and working from home. They were still finding their footing as a couple, but each day brought small moments of connection – shared meals, quiet evenings watching dramas together, gentle kisses goodbye in the morning.

At the hospital, Y/N continued to navigate the complex dynamics with her colleagues. Alexys remained a constant source of both irritation and amusement, their bickering a familiar dance that often ended in reluctant laughter.

"Seriously, Alexys," Y/N sighed one afternoon, exasperated by yet another delay in lab results. "How long does it take to run a simple blood panel?"

Alexys leaned against the lab counter, a mischievous glint in her eye. "About as long as it takes you to take a patient's temperature. Oh wait, that's right – you nurses have those fancy ear thermometers now. Must be nice to have technology do all the work for you."

"Says the person whose entire job revolves around machines doing the work," Y/N shot back, unable to suppress a smile.

"Ladies," Ela's voice cut in, equal parts amusement and exasperation. "If you two have enough energy to bicker, perhaps you could channel it into, oh I don't know, actual work?"

As they both mumbled apologies, Ela shook her head fondly. "I swear, sometimes I feel more like a kindergarten teacher than a doctor."

Despite the teasing, Y/N was grateful for the normalcy of these interactions. They were a welcome distraction from the more complicated aspects of her new life – namely, her conflicted feelings about Seungcheol.

True to his word, Seungcheol had maintained a respectful distance. But Y/N couldn't help but notice the longing looks he sent her way when he thought she wasn't looking, or the way his hand would linger just a moment too long when passing her a patient chart. It was torture, in a way – a constant reminder of what might have been.

One evening, as Y/N was finishing up her shift, she quite literally ran into Seungcheol as she rounded a corner. His hands came up to steady her, and for a moment, they were closer than they had been in weeks.

"I'm sorry," Y/N said, stepping back quickly. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"It's okay," Seungcheol replied softly, his eyes searching her face. "Y/N, I—"

"I should go," she interrupted, suddenly desperate to escape the intensity of his gaze. "Wonwoo's waiting for me."

As she hurried away, she could feel Seungcheol's eyes on her back, full of unspoken words and unfulfilled promises.

When she arrived home that night, she found Wonwoo in the living room, surrounded by stacks of papers and looking thoroughly stressed.

"Rough day?" she asked, setting down her bag and moving to massage his tense shoulders.

Wonwoo leaned into her touch with a grateful sigh. "You could say that. The merger is... complicated. There are a lot of moving parts, a lot of people to please."

Y/N felt a pang of guilt. In the whirlwind of her own conflicted emotions, she'd almost forgotten the enormous pressure Wonwoo was under. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she offered.

Wonwoo turned to look at her, a soft smile on his face. "You're doing it," he said, reaching up to squeeze her hand. "Just being here, being you... it helps more than you know."

In that moment, looking down at her husband – this man who supported her dreams, who cooked her dinner after long shifts, who was working so hard to make their families' vision a reality – Y/N felt a surge of affection. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

Wonwoo responded immediately, deepening the kiss as he pulled her around the couch and into his lap. As things heated up between them, Y/N found herself fully present in the moment, thoughts of the hospital and Seungcheol fading away.

Later, as they lay tangled together in bed, Wonwoo trailing lazy patterns on her bare skin, Y/N felt a sense of peace settle over her. It wasn't the all-consuming passion she'd once dreamed of, but there was a warmth, a tenderness to their relationship that was beginning to feel like home.

"Y/N," Wonwoo murmured, his voice husky with sleep. "I know this isn't how either of us imagined starting our lives together. But I want you to know... I'm happy. With you."

Y/N felt her heart swell at his words. She snuggled closer, pressing a kiss to his chest. "I'm happy too," she whispered, and was surprised to realize she meant it.

As she drifted off to sleep, Y/N knew that challenges lay ahead. The pressure from their families for an heir would only increase. The complications at the hospital wouldn't magically disappear. But for now, in the warmth of Wonwoo's embrace, she allowed herself to hope. Hope that they could build a life together that was more than just duty and obligation. Hope that the affection growing between them could blossom into something deep and lasting.

The road ahead was uncertain, but Y/N was beginning to believe that with Wonwoo by her side, they could face whatever came their way. Together.

[writingsfrombeyondthegrave]

Helloooo there!

Just wanted to say that I absolutely loved the Astrid x ghost!reader fic and was wondering if you were considering doing a part two?? maybe Astrid finds a way to save them and they end up dating or something?

I hope you Have a lovely day! Xx

An Accidental Haunting Part 2

Astrid Deetz x Ghost!Reader

*Platonic to Romantic*

Requested by anon

Summary- Now that Astrid could see you clearly, an unlikely friendship formed. She wanted nothing more than to be with you now that you two had gotten the chance to spend more time together. She would find a way for you two to be a couple. A proper living couple.

Warnings- Reader was m*rdered, Details about death and the afterlife, angst, depression, mention of cancer, trading one life for another, kissing

The afterlife is a complex thing than many humans never truly understand. Ghosts, often thought of as a figment of the imagination or a misguided illusion of the light, were more real than Astrid had ever anticipated.

Admitting her mother wasn't crazy was a big step in her life. Not to mention the fact that she was gaining feelings for a ghost, this time while knowing about the fact you were deceased. Your morbid humor, self-deprecating jokes and obscene amount of knowledge on the paranormal had a death grip on her heart.

Death was much more interesting with Astrid in your life. You didn't feel the dread or crushing depression as much as before. Sometimes you dare say, you felt more alive than you had when you were actually living.

Lydia had decided to move back into the old "Ghost House" after Astrid had begged her, claiming that she would even consider going to Miss Shannon's School for Girls until graduation. It was only one year away, but she had been adamant about it.

In the end, it happened to be a convenient idea. Lydia's Tv show career had ended and she opted to be an in-area Psychic for those in need. Somehow, however with your meticulous hiding, she never once saw you in the house. You have been very deliberate about keeping your identity there a secret between only you and Astrid.

"I hate to say it, but that uniform is lame" You spoke as you laid back on her bed with a teasing smirk, head tilted in her direction as she tried on the uniform, smoothing down the skirt.

She turned to you and raised an eyebrow, challenging you. "At least I don't have an old rock shirt than looks like you scraped it off of an 80s arcade floor."

"Ha. Ha." you laughed emotionlessly, tossing a stuffed bear at her to defend your honor. "Arcades are fun, but nice try at trying to offend me beautiful"

The smirk that remained on your lips made her heart skip a beat, but she would rather die than tell you how much power you held over her. Your nonchalant flirting always hurt, knowing it never held much meaning behind your words, but she continued to ignore it in favor of her sanity.

"Tell me again" Astrid said as she sat beside you on the bed, making the mattress bounce lightly. "What's it like to die?"

The quietness between you both stretched for a moment before you answered. "It's different for everyone. For some its peaceful, for some its painful."

"I meant for you personally, what was it like?"

Your amused laugh echoed through her room. "What was it like to be stabbed brutally to death? Just a normal Tuesday, of course"

No matter how many times you talked to her about the afterlife, you were always careful to leave out the specifics of your own death. The last thing you ever wanted from anyone was sympathy, especially from her. Sadness should never be an emotion she felt when you were around. So, you opted to made jokes and avoided those awkward looming moments of despair and helplessness.

Instead of laughing, she seemed to be deep in thought. "What if there was a way to bring you back?" She spoke so soft that you almost missed it, but of course you didn't. Instantly you sat up on her bed and faced her properly, startling her a bit at your sudden movement.

"Are you crazy? You of all people should know that's a terrible idea, Astrid. It's a life for a life, a crazy scheme that only the self-centered scumbags would pull"

"I know... I know. But you didn't deserve to die"

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "You don't know that. you don't know me! I'm a freak, Astrid! Thats why I'm dead, no one wanted to talk to me. Everyone feared me because the only people who understood me were already dead!" The screams you sent her way felt like daggers piercing her skin. There hadn't been a single moment up until now that you had acted any other way besides happy.

Without warning you vanished from sight, completely dematerializing Infront of her eyes. She stared in shock at the wall Infront of her, not knowing how to react.

All of a sudden it hit her, you needed her help to come back alive and she would do anything in her power to help you, even if that meant seeking out her mother for guidance.

The instant regret you felt after yelling at Astrid was eating at you from the inside out. Your knees were pulled up to your chest while you sat in a rickety old rocking chair. You looked over at the town model in the attic to distract yourself from falling even further into the darkness.

What you never mentioned to any of the spirits you helped, was that the longer the dead lingered on the living plain, the quicker your soul decays. The deceased were to move on after dying, in favor of protecting what mortality they died with. Your soul fades and your own morals that you once valued in life start to get corrupted.

"The Darkness" as you referred to it was the depressive black hole that swallows the last remaining happiness and hope that you hold onto. If you let yourself get sucked into that darkness, you may never find your way out of it again.

That is how some spirits get sucked into a loop, replaying their death and their most horrible moments over and over again until there is nothing left of their soul.

Smiling seemed to be your coping mechanism to avoid this, always happy and never upset over trivial things. Never allowing yourself the simple happiness that the living still enjoyed and took for granted.

Lydia was cooking in the kitchen when she heard rapid footsteps descending down the staircase. Astrid stopped and stood in the doorway, looking at her mother blankly for a moment. She couldn't believe how much progress that they've accomplished, yet she feared the awkward tension would always be there lingering.

"I... I need your help."

Lydia stopped what she was doing to look at her daughter in shock. "You do?" She dried her hands with the kitchen towel and quickly turned her full attention to her. "Of course, what do you need?"

"The handbook. I know you kept the one that the Maitlands had and I need to see it"

"Why would you need that?"

"I'm interested in your work" Astrid lied, forcing a small smile that she hoped was more than convincing. The smile that Lydia provided could've lit up every dark corner in the house.

After moping in your sorrows for the better part of that night, you finally appeared in Astrid's room the next morning, an apology ready on your tongue before you saw what she was doing. She was furiously flipping through The Handbook for the Recently Deceased, writing down notes in an old notebook.

You cautiously stepped up next to her and looked over her shoulder. "What could you possibly need that book for? You're not dead, babe."

She looked up at you, realizing your looming presence near her. The bags under her eyes were the only indicator that you needed to show her lack of sleep. Her body physically relaxed from its tense stance at seeing you back in her room. "I have the perfect plan on how to bring you back to life"

You groaned and flopped down into her beanbag chair dramatically. It seemed like your usual playful behavior was back at least. "Why must the living be so stubborn?"

"We are going on a trip, come on" She closed the book and tossed it in your direction, clearly expecting you to catch it. It hit the wall behind you with a heavy thud, thankfully not indenting it. You slowly turned your head to look at the book and then back to her.

"Did you really expect a different outcome?"

Astrid hugs her bag over her shoulder with the handbook in it, waiting for you to grab ahold of her so she could start her ride to the town's nursing home. After a deep sigh you hook your leg over the seat and wrap your arms around her midsection.

Your touch felt like a winter chill, but her body had never been warmer. Her heart beat quickly and she prayed you couldn't detect it. Your chin rested on her shoulder as you looked around the town.

You never were a very affectionate person in life, but for Astrid, you made an exception. There was no fear in her eyes when she looked at you now, and that made you feel as if you were finally home again.

The ride to the nursing home was quiet and quick. Astrid greeted the staff with a quick smile, claiming to be visiting her grandmother.

An argument soon broke out between the two of you as you crossed your arms, not happy by what she was proposing.

"Ms. Silvers has been in pain for years from the cancer. Death was inevitable anyway so what's the issue? She seems fine with it" She argued, and you just tilted your head, unconvinced. It was silent for a few minutes before you finally nodded your head, not being able to find a good enough argument to disagree with her plan.

Ms. Silvers was a good sport as you all headed to the cemetery together. She was a sweet old lady with a cane who seemed to be admiring the world through aged eyes.

"My husband loved this time of year" She spoke, her voice scratchy. "I just know he's been waiting for me. Thank you for this, Lovey"

Astrid smiled, walking beside her and making sure she was alright. You looked over at them, still cautious about the whole thing. Your entire life, you had never put yourself before anyone. This felt wrong, yet the old woman beside you could've been the strongest woman alive now. She had more courage than you could've imagined and you admired that.

The quiet Winter air blew past them, and she didn't so much as shiver.

After repeating the incantation in the crypt and entering, you decided it was best to lead the way. You had been to this part before when you first died. Youve come a long way and grown as a person since then. The confident look you always wore wavered slightly, but they couldn't see it since you were far ahead.

The picture for the transfer was about to be taken when Ms. Silvers reached over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Young love is a powerful thing. Take care of each other, alright?"

You couldn't help the smile that overcame your features as you nodded, giving her hand a squeeze in return. "Tell your husband we said hi, would you?"

The transfer went smoothly, and you both walked her to the soul train together. Once inside the train, she sent you both a sweet smile and a wave before she departed.

Your body healed almost instantly; no indications left behind of what had happened to you. Your shirt however, still remained in shambles.

Crawling out of the crypt, you felt as if a rush of air filled your lungs. Your feet met the grass of the graveyard, and the world moved with you instead of without you. It acknowledged your presence and welcomed you with open arms.

You turned to Astrid with a bright smile. "I don't know how to thank you"

"Oh... it was nothing, really." Astrid laughed awkwardly, turning away to avoid your gaze. You looked at her as if she hung the very stars in the sky. The blood flowing through your veins and the shine of your lively skin looked heavenly to her, and she had to stop herself from staring in awe.

Without warning you cupped her face in your hands and kissed her softly, afraid that you might vanish from existence yet again. Her eyes widened in shock before she allowed herself to relax to your touch. Her hands instinctively held your hips, just barely. You pulled away after a moment and rested your forehead against hers.

"Even when I was dead and I couldn't feel anything, I swore I could feel the pounding of my dead heart as if it was beating for you. I'm afraid it will only ever beat for you now that I'm alive again"

She laughed, smiling freely as she looked into your eyes. "Thats the cheesiest thing I've ever heard you say, you dork"

"So, if I asked to kiss you again it wouldn't be as cheesy?" You smirked, and she swore she could get used to this every day for the rest of her life.

Extra:

"Now that your alive, can you finally change that crusty t-shirt?" Astrid teased, holding your hand tightly as you walked back to her house.

You pretended to think about it before laughing "Yes, Ma'am" You winked.

A/N- Thank you lovely anon for requesting a part 2! I have another Astrid fic lined up and, in the works, currently along with the lost boys and others. Please continue to send in requests and I'll get to them as soon as possible. Thank you all for the love on my writing, it means so so much to me.

If there is a possible part 3 wanted it would probably just be filled with little incidents when Astrid now saves the readers life because they forget they’re alive now and could actually get hurt.

If anyone wants to be tagged in any sort of tag list (doesn’t just have to be for Astrid fics), please let me know!

Also, I apologize for the extensive knowledge of the paranormal that I have lol. The afterlife has always fascinated me.

Credits-

Ghost and Graveyard Dividers- @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[dolliethv]

"34+35"

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! a little smut, inspired by Ariana Grande's song "34+35" enjoy it!! xoxo.

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 1,4k

The clock struck 2:30 AM, but the night was just beginning for them. In the small apartment in London the rain slid down the windows creating an intimate atmosphere that enveloped them. They had planned to "watch a movie," although both knew it was just a pretext.

Jude Bellingham, a well-known footballer, lay back on the bed, his tight shirt revealing every line of his muscles. You, a fashion design student, had carefully chosen your outfit: comfortable, but revealing enough to spark the imagination, a loose shirt of Jude's and just your underwear. From the moment your eyes met, you both knew the real attraction of the night wasn't on the screen.

You lay on the bed, your legs casually crossed, but you knew exactly how to draw his attention. Jude watched you, his dark gaze full of intentions you couldn't ignore.

"Are you sure you want to watch a movie?" he asked, with a mischievous smile, leaning in so his lips were dangerously close to your ear. "Because I have better ideas for how to spend the time."

You smiled, feigning disinterest as you toyed with the remote. "Oh, really? And what would you suggest?"

He raised an eyebrow, his fingers brushing slowly against the exposed skin of your thighs. "I could teach you some tricks you won't learn in your classes... and promise you won't be bored."

You laughed softly, feeling the tickle of his touch. "I hope you're not all talk and no action."

"I don't usually disappoint on the field, or off it," he replied, pulling you closer by the waist. Your gazes met, and in the sparkle of his eyes, you could see the promise of an endless night.

Later, as soft music filled the room, you looked at him with a cheeky smile while he ran his fingers through your hair. "Tell me, have you ever been with someone who can keep up with you until sunrise?"

You looked at him challengingly, leaning closer. "And have you ever met someone who doesn't let you rest?"

The tension between them was felt in every sigh and stolen glance. He seized every opportunity to come closer and drop hints that exposed his intentions, while you remained playful, enjoying the game.

As he wrapped an arm around you, he leaned in and whispered in your ear with a mischievous grin. "I won't deny it, I've been imagining you differently all night... and none of it includes that outfit."

You raised an eyebrow, amused as you moved slightly away just to provoke him. "Wow, is that the best you've got? You should work on your lines, or you might think you impress me just with that pretty face."

He laughed, keeping his composure, his eyes slowly scanning you from head to toe. "I don't need lines if you know what I have down there... And believe me, what I'm imagining will keep you awake all night."

You looked at him with feigned surprise and leaned in close enough for your lips to brush his without actually kissing him. "Oh really? All night? How ambitious. But look, it's not that easy. I might be the one leaving you begging for a break."

He smiled, amused and provocative, not backing away an inch. "It's a risk I'm willing to take. But I warn you, I don't tire easily. And I don't care how many times we have to 'train' to get it right."

You laughed, theatrically placing your hand on your chest. "Oh, look at you... all athletic in every way. Too bad not all your tricks impress me."

He looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes, sliding his fingers along your waist until you shivered slightly. "Then I'll have to show you some moves that aren't taught in training. Ready for a private lesson?"

You pushed him gently with a mocking smile, enjoying the game. "You take this teaching thing very seriously... But what if I end up teaching you something?"

He moved even closer, softly pinning you against the bed, his lips a whisper away from yours. "I think that's a lesson I'm eager to learn.. And I don't plan on skipping a single second."

"I've been drinking coffee and eating healthy all day," you said, with a provocative tone as you leaned towards him. "I hope you can keep up."

Jude handled your body as if you were a feather, turning you around so that you were at the level of his crotch and he was at yours. "Thanks for making my job easier," he said, referring to your clothes.

What followed was the most delicious experience you've ever had... Jude's long tongue ravaged your pussy mercilessly. He sucked on your clitoris, driving you to your limit, and you couldn't handle it anymore, moaning loudly.

Soon, as Jude licked your pussy you helped him pull down his boxers so you could take the next step. Damn, his cock is huge; you know it because it's always been hard for you to take him due to the size difference between you. Amidst your moans, you tried to take his cock into your mouth, sucking on the head and helping with your hand to fully caress it.

Jude inserted two fingers inside you, giving your ass a playful slap. "That's it, baby, you're doing great," he grunted.

You couldn't take it anymore; damn, you couldn't stand it!! You came, releasing your fluids at the same time as Jude... oh? That was really hot.

It didn't end there, and you and him continued fucking. Damn, this man really keeps his word.

Your legs were trembling from the overexcitement; you had never experienced this. Jude settled you with a smile on his face, cleaned you up, and found comfortable clothes for you

Hours passed like a sigh, and when dawn began to peek through the window, they were still immersed in their own world, wrapped in disheveled sheets and unspoken promises. Their bodies fit perfectly together, creating countless moments where words were unnecessary, and only the pure sensation of being together remained.

"We could do this every night," he whispered, stroking your hair as you nestled against his chest, both breathing in sync, exhausted but satisfied.

"And who says we won't?" you replied, closing your eyes with a smile on your lips.

That morning, there were no alarms to pull them out of their dream. The movie they never watched remained paused on the screen, but for them, the real action had happened off-camera. Because in that small room, night and day blended together, and all that mattered was the promise of a new adventure when the lights went out again.