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starrihan · 2 days ago

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Higher Than Heaven (Yeonjun Fic)

→ Pairing: Yeonjun x afab! Reader

→ Plot: a group project is the last thing you want for your midterm, but working with the student who smokes makes it 10x worse

→ Genre: smut, tiny tiny bit of angst, protection (yes!!), kissing, hickeys, piv sex, reader is judgmental + hates smoking, swearing (Imk if i missed any!!)

→ Warnings: smoking, mentions of food, joke about dead grandparents

→ Word Count: 7,746

→ Notes: hey guys! This is the first fic of my Sanctuary Series! For more information about the series I would recommend going to this post here!I just want to clarify that I do not share the same views as the reader does in this fic, it was purely for plot purposes! Hope you enjoy pt 1 of the series 😚

༄ ༄ ༄

You were always a goodie two-shoes. Perfect attendance, good grades, class president, the story writes itself. You grew up playing different instruments and were always enrolled in a sport or after-school club to keep yourself busy and your portfolio reflecting nothing less than perfection. So how did you go from valedictorian and class president of your high school to a college student who is on the verge or dropping out?

The amount of work you’d allowed to accumulate over the past few weeks was enough to scare even the professors, making them question whether they actually assigned that much work. You could feel your grays coming in at the sight of all your work, exhaling as you decide to tackle the easy assignments first.

It’s the middle of the day on a Thursday. You had a couple of assignments due tomorrow night that you absolutely could not afford to push off any longer. You had already asked for extensions on most of your assignments so far and you didn’t know how many more dead grandparents you could have before your professors questioned the validity of your failed punctuality when it came to turning in your assignments on time. You had class at 3 p.m, giving you a good two and half hours to get some work done.

༄ ༄ ༄

You pack up your belongings as the clock strikes 2:30 p.m. You had gotten a couple of your easy assignments done, though it was very taxing to say the least. You make your way to your class, bundling up as the cold was brutal enough to warrant a cancelation, though, your university would never do that (speaking from experience because wdym its 2℉ out and i have to walk to class when theres black ice on the ground??).

You make it to your class about 15 minutes later, shivering from being cold yet sweating due to the many layers you had on. You take a seat next to your best friend, who had gotten there before you and saved your seat.

“Can we go get food after class? I’ve had back to back classes and meetings all day and I’m starving.”

She drones on. You nod as you take out your laptop, waiting for the professor to start class. You’re prepared to mindlessly take notes for the next hour and half during lecture, but are pleasantly surprised when the professor doesn’t pull up the lecture slides.

“Good afternoon class. I can all tell you guys are doing great so far.”

Her joke lands for some people, getting little chuckles and giggles from different corners of the lecture hall.

“Your midterms are a month away. I would normally give an exam for this class, but this year I have decided to switch it up. I have you all in pairs and you will be submitting a group assignment as your midterm. You will not be required to present but I will give you free reign on the design, layout and mode of presentation on the project meaning you can use any platform or software you would like to get the information across. I have sent you all emails with the name of the person you will be paired up with.”

You and friend look at each other and groan, knowing that the chance of you two being in a group is slim to none. Surely enough, you check your emails for your project partners.

“Who is Choi Yeonjun?��

You ask, looking to your friend to see if she has any answers. She scans the room, presumably to see if he’s in class to point him out to you.

“You see that kid in the middle row to the left? The one with the red hair? That’s him.

You look at the back of his head, sighing as you realize you don’t know this person and that this project is going to take a lot more time out of your busy schedule.

“At least you’re not working with Choi Beomgyu. I heard he can be a handful.”

Your friend rolls her eyes, burning holes in the back of the blonde boy's head, who happens to be sitting next to Yeonjun. You follow your eyes to see the boy, laughing at the irony of your partners sitting next to each other, just like their partners were.

The rest of the class is drag, the growling of your stomach making it seem longer than it was as hunger consumes you.

“Let’s go to the dining hall. I can’t afford to spend any more money on that overpriced cafe.”

Your friend says as you follow her out. It’s gotten pretty dark outside and there weren’t many students walking around in the cold. There were a couple of people here and there, probably walking back to their dorms after class. You two find yourself walking behind a person with their hood up, paying no mind to him until a cloud of smoke hits your face. Your audible groan at the smell of weed alerts his attention as he turns around and apologizes for smoking right in front of you. As he pulls his hood down, you recognize the tuft of bright red hair sitting on the top of his head.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know you guys were behind me. I didn’t mean for the smoke to hit you.”

‘Great,’ you thought. Not only did you have to work with a random stranger, but he also smokes publically on campus. You didn’t like smoking or people who smoked. You couldn’t understand why people do it or what joy butchering your throat and lungs could bring you. Your friend knew that about you and sensing your irritation, she speaks up for you, dismissing the incident on your behalf while you both walk ahead of him.

As soon as you know that you’re far enough away from Yeonjun, you ask,

“Can we switch partners?”

Your friend snickers.

“If he smokes, I can almost assure you that his friend does too, so switching partners wouldn’t help.”

You finally enter the dining hall, taking in the heated building before putting your stuff down in search of mediocre food.

༄ ༄ ༄

You spend the next few days catching up on any missing work, putting the project aside since you still have a month left to do it. You decide to use Sunday as your rest day, drained from the assignments you were able to get done. You still had many assignments left to do, but you could only do so much work and you were already feeling burnt out. Doing more work wouldn’t be eventful in any way.

You prepare for your day as normal, showering and throwing on a cute, weather appropriate, outfit as you make your way to the cafe on campus. You needed something better than the dining hall coffee for a change. You went there quite often, as you were high school friends with one of the baristas there. You smile as you spot him, walking up to the counter.

“Taehyun! How’ve you been?”

The boy beams brightly at you, loving your cheerful spirit upon seeing him.

“Y/N! I haven’t seen you for a couple days! I’m good, how are you? And, do you want your usual?”

“I know, I’ve been busy and broke. But I’m doing alright, just catching up on all of my assignments. And yes please.”

“Oh, that’s good at least! Also we have a new employee that I’m training so it might take a minute to get your order. Is that okay?”

“Yeah of course! Take your time. Thank you!”

You say, paying the balance of your meal and waiting at the end of the counter to get your food. You see a tall boy with red hair come out from the kitchen. You scoff to yourself as you recognize Yeonjun. ‘Of course he works here,’ you think. It takes him a couple of minutes to make your drink, still new to all the syrups and flavors that are available. As he finishes he calls out your name.

“Y/N!”

You walk up to him, remaining polite as you thank him for your order.

“Thank you.”

“Sorry if it took a while, it’s only my third day here.”

“It’s okay, thank you for the food!”

He stares at you and you’re about to grab your stuff and walk out, but he stops you.

“Wait, Y/N? Are you taking history 2204? With Professor X?”

“Yeah?”

You feign ignorance, pretending not to know who he is.

“Ah, I see. I’m Yeonjun. I think we’re partners for this project. It was nice to meet you.”

He says as he smiles. You felt a little guilty about your prejudiced dislike towards him. He seemed nice enough, so what if he smokes? And you couldn’t lie to yourself, finding his smile and crinkled eyes cute.

“Oh yeah! It’s nice to meet you too!”

“Can I give you my number? So we can discuss what days work for us to meet up and work on the project?”

You nod as you hand him your phone. You watch as he types away his number, smiling as he hands it back to you.

“Thank you, Yeonjun. I’ll text you my schedule and we can figure out what works then.”

He wished you a good day and you smile, finding his manners charming.

༄ ༄ ༄

A week had passed since you met Yeonjun at the cafe. You were officially back on track as you submitted the last of your missing assignments the night before, finally being able to focus your time and energy on this project. You had yet to message Yeonjun and you didn’t know why you were nervous to text him. You didn’t want to start off the messages awkwardly so you went with a simple yet forward message to start the conversation.

“Hey! This is Y/N from history class. You gave me your number last week at the cafe.”

You release the breath you were subconsciously holding, hitting ‘send’ and waiting for a response. You didn’t want it to seem like you were glued to your phone, waiting for him to message you back so you bide your time by doing other things around your space. Cleaning up your desk, putting away your clothes, etc.

You hear your phone go off, waiting a couple minutes to check who the message is from. You groan when it’s just one of your friends asking if you wanted to hang out later. You replied ‘sure,’ and went back to doing anything you could occupy yourself.

It had been a couple of hours since you messaged him and still no response. Now pissed that he hadn’t yet gotten back to you, you decided to get ready to go out with your friends. There was a party at a bar on campus and you allowed yourself to go out as a reward for completing all your assignments. Putting on some light makeup, you chose a rather revealing outfit despite the winter weather, assuming that it was probably going to be hot in the bar.

You met your friends there and all started with some drinks. You were talking about your days, just checking up on them. You had all been so busy with midterms coming up that you barely had time to hang out. After having about two more drinks, your friends dragged you onto the floor, dancing to whatever music the band was playing.

“Y/N!!”

You hear your name being called and turned around to find the source of the noise. You spot Taehyun and instantly your mood brightens up.

“Taehyun! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“I wasn’t planning on coming but my friend asked me to come with him. I think you’ve met him before, Yeonjun? He’s the one that made your order a week ago.”

You grimace upon hearing his name. At first, you cut him some slack because he seemed nice enough. You felt guilty about judging him because he smoked. But after not messaging you all day and then hearing that he was at this party, you went back on your word, the idea of disliking him appealing to you again.

“Oh yeah, I know him. I remember meeting him last week.”

You say, emotionless.

“I want you to meet him again. And my other friends too, they’re all cool so I think you’ll like them.”

You trusted Taehyun so maybe you had to hold off on your hatred a little longer. Though you were good at using your words, your expression and body language always failed you, never being able to hide your negative emotions.

“These are my friends, Yeonjun, Soobin, Beomgyu and Kai.”

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you guys, I’m Y/N!”

“Ah yes, we’ve heard a lot about you. Taehyun told us how you guys were best friends in high school.”

Soobin said, his tall frame and black hair are easy on the eyes.

“Yeah, me and Terry go way back! It feels like we met just a year ago but it’s already been 7 years”

You say, laughing. Yeonjun chuckles at your comment, sipping at his beer.

“It’s nice to formally meet you Y/N. And I like your outfit, it suits you.”

You stare towards him is cold but your cheeks betray you, heating up at his compliment towards your outfit.

“Thank you…”

Your night goes on, hopping between your friend group and Taehyun and his friends. One by one, they all start to leave as you’re left with one of your friends, Taehyun and Yeonjun. You introduce them all to each other and stay at the party for a little longer before deciding to leave.

“I think I’m going to head back, Y/N. I’m tired and I have classes back to back tomorrow,”

Your friend says, gathering her things.

“Alright but you can’t walk back by yourself? It’s too dark and you know how dangerous it can be.”

You look around, trying to find a solution so that your friend doesn’t go back by herself.

“Taehyun! You live on this side of campus right? Can you walk back with her?”

Taehyun looks to your friend, who’s blushing a little as you try to help her out.

“Yeah sure but, what about you? You live on the opposite side so what are you gonna do?”

“I can walk her back. I live around there anyways. It would be no trouble, really.”

Yeonjun says, smiling as his eyes disappear. You mentally curse yourself for being left with Yeonjun, even though there was nothing else you can do about it. You all nod and go your separate ways, Taehyun with your friend and you with Yeonjun.

On your walk back to your dorm, Yeonjun fishes a lighter out of his pocket, using it to light the joint that was in his other hand. Taking a drag, you immediately smell the inebriating plant and walk faster. He can sense something off between the two of you, the tension weighing down the atmosphere.

“Did I do something to upset you? It just… seems like you don’t like me or don’t want me around?”

You stop in your tracks, having been walking in front of him this entire time and turn around to face him. You exhale loudly before starting:

“First of all, I was not in the best state when the professor announced we were working in random pairs for this project. Not really your fault but then I’m walking behind you as we leave class and you’re smoking! Let alone, the smoke blows into my face and I hate smoking, let alone people who smoke. Then I met you at the cafe and you seemed really nice so I gave you the benefit of the doubt and thought that maybe I judged you too quickly and then I felt guilty. But then this morning, I text you and you left me on delivered all day and then I find you here, at this party and now you’re walking me back to my dorm. So yeah, you can say I’m not really fond of you.”

You huff, the feeling of letting all of that off your chest almost euphoric. He puts his hand with the joint down next to him, taking his phone and checking his messages, and found that you did in fact text him and he didn’t read it.

“I’m sorry for not reading your message, I was busy all day and I’m not allowed to use my phone during work. And I do apologize for smoking in front of you, even though it blowing in your face isn’t my fault. But that’s it? I didn’t actually do anything to you, so what’s the judgment for? Why do you hate people who smoke?”

You didn’t want to stand in the cold any longer, and you didn’t want to have this conversation either. Really, you were avoiding his gaze because you really did have no valid reason to hate him. He never actually did anything to you. But you couldn’t back down now, otherwise you’d be embarrassed. You just huff as you turn on your heel, walking in the direction of your door, the rest of the walk back remaining silent.

He walks you up to your building. You feel your phone ding, grabbing it from your pocket to check the notification.

“I sent you my schedule. Let’s get this project done as quickly as we can so we don’t have to see each other again.”

You hang your head low, guilt hitting you like a truck at the sight of an upset and hurt Yeonjun waiting for you to walk in. Even though you told him that you didn’t like him straight to his face, he still had the courtesy of waiting for you to enter your building so he can say he waited until you were safe to leave. You look back at him one last time, feeling worse than before as you run in and take the stairs up to your room.

༄ ༄ ༄

You stare at Yeonjun’s schedule that sits in your messages, debating on whether or not you should ask your professor if you could work alone. You’re seriously contemplating it but ultimately decide that you should at least fix whatever you started, as it would be unfair to Yeonjun to leave him to do the project alone, though after your encounter last night, you’re sure he would appreciate not being your partner anymore.

“Hey. I’m free this weekend if you are to work on the project.”

His reply is almost immediate, like he had been waiting for you to text him back.

“Yeah, I’m free this weekend as well. Time and place?”

“Would you be comfortable coming over to my dorm at like 12 o’clock tomorrow? I want to apologize for the things I said and the way I acted…”

You bite your lip as you send the message, waiting for the rejection message to pop up.

“Sounds cool. I’ll see you at 12 tmr.”

No rejection? You were utterly surprised at this chance of redemption though, a little taken aback at how nonchalant he sounded. You lived in a single dorm so cleaning up wasn't that bad. You made sure to have plenty of snacks and drinks stocked in your mini fridge and made a little cozy corner for him to work in, while you would sit at your desk. You even made sure to text Taehyun and to ask what Yeonjun’s favorite drink was so you could have it ready for him when he arrived.

༄ ༄ ༄

You woke up early in the morning, getting ready for the day as you make your way to the cafe to pick up the drinks you had ordered for both yourself and Yeonjun.

“Hey Taehyun! Do you have those drinks ready for me?”

“Hey! Yeah I do. I have your usual and an iced americano for Yeonjun!”

The boy says, big eyes gleaming as he hands you the drinks.

“Thank you! I’ll see you later!”

You didn’t tell him about the events that transpired after the party, and from the looks of it Yeonjun hadn't told him anything either. You say your goodbyes and make your way to a little pop-up event on your campus. They were selling cookies and cupcakes to support their club, so you thought it would be a nice gesture to buy you and Yeonjun both a cookie and a cupcake each.

Struggling to open your door with all the treats in your hands, you manage to get inside of your room and put all your stuff down. You check the time to see that it’s only 11:30 a.m, relieved to see that you still had some time to yourself.

You hear a knock on your door a little bit later. You had sent Yeonjun the details of your dorm room before he got there but were still startled by the knock. You compose yourself, nervously opening the door to see a blank-faced Yeonjun staring back at you, this time wearing a loose sweater that hangs off his shoulder on one side, gray sweats and black, thick framed glasses.

“Hey Yeonjun. Come in, I have some things prepared.”

He nods as he walks in, slipping off his shoes at the little welcome mat you have placed in front of the door. The dorm itself is pretty small, enough for one person but it could still comfortably afford a guest.

“First of all, I want to start with a verbal apology. I’m sorry for being prejudiced against you based on your smoking habits. And I’m sorry for lashing out on you last night when you asked a valid question. I know it wasn’t your fault that the smoke blew into my face and I guess I was just anxious about this project and texting you that I didn’t even stop to think and consider the fact that you could’ve been busy and didn’t have time to check your phone. Secondly, I asked Taehyun what your favorite drink at the cafe was so I got you an iced americano, and a cookie and cupcake from the fundraiser one of the clubs on campus is having.”

You shyly hand over the cup with his drink and the snacks that were packed into a little plastic box. He takes the snacks out of your hand and for the first time all week, you relax your shoulders as Yeonjun smiles, accepting your apology and finding it cute in the process.

“Thank you Y/N. I know you don’t know me and I don’t know what your deal with hating smoking is, but I accept and appreciate the apology nonetheless. Shall we get started?”

You nod as you instruct him to put his stuff down in the little workspace you created for him, a small throw pillow and fox blanket resting on the inflatable chair you had blown up for him to make use of. He chuckles at the cute setup, settling his stuff down and getting comfy to start working.

༄ ༄ ༄

Throughout your working session, you had some conversation here and there when things got boring or you ran into a particularly difficult part of the project. A couple hours into working you both decide to tap out, noticing the time and finding that you had been working for 6 hours straight.

“Oh my god, it’s been 6 hours!”

You say, surprised that you were able to focus on the same assignment for so long though, to your credit, it felt like many different assignments bundled into one.

“Damn, I didn’t even notice how late it was. That wasn’t so bad actually.”

Yeonjun says, getting up to stretch his legs, americano and snack box empty as you both refused to leave the room to eat lunch. He picked up his trash, throwing it in the garbage before returning to his corner, looking at you before asking you a question you didn’t think he’d ask:

“Would you ever try it? Smoking I mean?

You stare at him blankly. Your immediate answer was no. Smoking is bad for you, it can cause illness or death. But when you opened your mouth to answer, you didn’t expect this to come out:

“Maybe one day?”

You’re speechless yourself at your answer. You were so adamant on hating smoking and never wanting to try it. What about Yeonjun asking you made you change your answer? Was it the way he so confidently stood up to you last night? Or the way he walked you to your dorm despite learning about your true feelings for him at the time? Or the way you wanted him to find you different from the character you first gave off, the one that judged him for smoking in the first place? As if he could see the inner struggle etched onto your face he remarks,

“I thought you hated smoking? What makes you want to try it?”

Your face heats up at your own silence, but you respond anyway.

“I do hate it. And I actually don’t want to try it. I don't know why I said that. But why do you smoke in the first place?”

You ask, trying to change the subject to be towards him. Catching onto your little trick, he humors you.

“It’s a relaxing way to unwind after a stressful day. Sit back, throw on a movie and take a couple hits and you’re there. Relaxed as can be with no other care in the world. You should try it, maybe then you won’t be as tightly wound.”

You scoff at his little jab at you towards the end of his explanation. You couldn’t lie, with the way he was explaining it to you, the idea of smoking did sound very enticing. But nonetheless, you were willing to stand your ground on this topic, after all, this whole situation you were in with Yeonjun stemmed from your hatred towards smoking and you weren’t going to back down now.

“As if. And I am not tightly wound, thank you very much. Maybe you can’t tell because you’re brain fried from all the weed you smoke.”

Thinking your remark has granted you victory in this argument, Yeonjun smirks, offering you a challenge.

“Try it. Prove me wrong that you won’t feel relaxed. That it won’t make you feel like a weight has been temporarily lifted off of you.”

He reached down into his bag, pulling out a metal box and setting it on your desk. Upon clicking it open, the smell of weed immediately wafts through the room, filling your nose and causing you to cough slightly.

“Do you mind not opening that up in my room? We’re not supposed to smoke in the dorms anyways!”

You said, grabbing air freshener to dilute the smell of the weed.

“Relax, it's fine. Plus the hall directors on this floor all do it too, so they won’t care.”

You scoff as he takes a seat, carefully grinding the bud so as not to get any on your desk. He then fiddles with the contraption used to pack the weed into the paper, sealing it off after having packed it fully.

“I’ll demonstrate how to do it and then you take a hit, okay?”

You gulp nervously, teetering between the idea of kicking him out or waiting to see how this all plays out. Were you really going to get high because a cute boy challenged you? You’re quickly broken out of your thoughts as you see him flick open the lighter, the smell of burning paper replacing the smell of weed in your nose. He lets it burn for a while, opening your window in the process.

“When you take a hit, blow out of the window otherwise you’ll set off the fire alarm.”

You mock a smile as he laughs, bringing the joint up to his lips as he takes a small inhale. You watch as the fibers of the paper burn, the weed contents turning gray. You analyze the way he takes the hit and hold it in his throat for a second before slowly blowing the cloud of smoke out of the window.

“Your turn.”

He passes you the joint, as your clammy hands impatiently reach for it. You look at him one more time nervously, bringing the joint up to your mouth and inhaling. You don’t know how fast you ripped it, throat burning and violently coughing as Yeonjun scrambles in your fridge to bring you a bottle of water. You chug the water to stop your coughs, handing the joint back to him as you catch your breath.

“Nothing about that was relaxing in any way.”

“That’s because you did it too fast. Look, watch me. You slowly inhale, don’t let the feeling of it in your throat bother you otherwise you’ll start to cough.”

You hold a little grudge in your stare, cursing at the fact that you were so easily convinced to try the one thing you spited and how your resolve crumbles so easily before your very eyes. You watch him bring the joint up to his lips again, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat before taking another hit. This time you watch how he holds it in his mouth, counting the seconds before he blows it out.

“Think you got it this time?”

You take the joint from his hand, silently reassuring him that you’d be fine. You try again, this time slowly inhaling. Remember his words from just a few moments ago, you let the particles settle in your throat for a moment, slightly inhaling before releasing the breath, successfully blowing the smoke out of the window. You look up at Yeonjun with big eyes and a proud smile.

“I still don’t feel relaxed.”

“You will in about 3 more hits and 15 minutes.”

You continue to pass the joint to each other, careful not to rip it too fast or inhale too much. You can feel your eyes start to get a little droopy, a constant smile appearing on your face as you feel your body loosen. You feel slower but not heavy as you turn to Yeonjun and start giggling.

“I can tell that you’re starting to feel it now. Gonna tell me you don’t feel relaxed?”

You nod, giggling at his smile. The longer you stare at him, the cuter you think he is. Even in your high state, you couldn’t blame the weed for the attraction you felt for the red-haired man. Maybe you were starting to form a little crush. You think about the sweater he’s wearing, how his neck and collarbone are so perfectly on display, longing to be nipped at. Or the way the glasses make him look more sophisticated and smart, you did like nerdy looking boys. And the way his thick lips wrapped around the joint, eyes following his every move as he takes another drag. You couldn’t help the way you were rubbing your thighs together, the idea of his lips on yours creating a need to form within you. He looks at you, dumbfounded as he himself is now high as well.

“How are you feeling Y/N? Do you feel good? Do you feel relaxed?”

This time, you could blame the weed for what you say next:

“I feel great. I would feel even better if you kissed me.”

You laugh at your own comment, finding Yeonjun’s shocked expression priceless and thus further causing you to laugh. You allowed yourself to be bold, not knowing when again you’d have this opportunity.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean, Y/N. You’re high right now and so am I. Neither of our judgments can be trusted right now.”

He tries to play the mature, responsible role. He was the one that got you high so he felt responsible for any and all actions made by you or towards you by himself. But the slight, ever-growing tent in his pants was giving him away, revealing that he was not as grounded in his resolve as he wanted to be.

“What? You don’t believe me? Should I prove it to you?”

You take his previous words of challenge and use it against him, playing him at his own game. You walk up to him slowly, eyes red and droopy as you stare into his. You place your hand on his chest, tippy toeing to try to reach up to his lips.

“Help me out a little?”

As if all rhyme and reason was thrown out the window, Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate to lean down, capturing your lips with his own. He throws one arm around your waist, the other carefully holding the joint so as not to get any ash over your floor. Your hands remain on his chest as your lips move slowly in sync, breaths heavy from the temporarily shortened capacity of your lungs. You still feel a burn every time you inhale, but it’s worth it for the way Yeonjun has you feeling right now; completely relaxed and carefree.

He pulls away for a second, grabbing your hand with his free one and placing the joint in between your lips, guiding you to take a hit before he puts it in the metal box with his other weed essentials. His eyes watch you in awe as you close your eyes to take the hit. He pulls you onto his lap as he takes a seat on your desk chair and you happily follow, hands around the nape of his neck as you play with the hairs there. You take your time holding the smoke in and he kisses you again, running his hands along your sides, squeezing as you gasp, letting the smoke out from your mouth into his. He takes the opportunity to gently slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan at the contact, grinding down a bit into his thigh. Your mouth is dry, partly due to the cotton mouth you're experiencing, and partly due to the nerves that had worked their way into your body when you decided to be bold and admit to wanting to kiss him.

He licks the inside of your mouth before pulling away a little to suck on your tongue, teeth grazing it as he pulls away to trails kisses down your jaw and neck. You’re panting out of breath at his actions, the wetness between your legs only growing as you feel his hard-on press against the side of your thigh. You giggle as he nips a particularly ticklish spot on your neck, the effects of the weed present and causing him to giggle as well.

“Can I kiss your neck?”

“Well when you ask so nicely…”

He laughs, pulling away from your neck and tilting his head to the side, granting you permission to mark him up. You lean down, lightly nipping at his milky skin, biting around the area of his collarbones and he rests his hands on your hips, rocking you back and forth on his thigh. Your little whimpers at the contact only turn him on more, hard cock throbbing against his sweats as you eye the clear outline of them. Pulling back to look at your little marks, you’re satisfied as you pull him into your lips once again, this time more hungry. His hands that were settled on your hips move to grab your ass, squeezing as he presses you down harder on his thigh. Your moans are drowned out by his lips as the makeout becomes heavier and messier, saliva escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping down your chin. He pulls away first, admiring your red and puffy lips with a dazed smile. He stands you up, grabbing the joint and taking a big hit, holding it as his hands sweetly caress your face and he gives you another kiss, letting the smoke cascade into your mouth as you try your best to inhale and not choke. He smirks watching the excess smoke slip between your mouths, putting down the remainder of the joint and feeling you up underneath your shirt.

“No bra?”

“I was in here all day. There was no need for it.”

You respond simply, taking a step back to fully take your shirt off, giggling as you watch his eyes open dramatically at the sight of your bare tits, nipples hardened as a result of the cold air. He pushes you against your desk, leaning you back over it as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, not even bothering to get you both on the bed. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud. You moan at the contact, harshly gripping his hair as he grazed his teeth against them. He takes the chance to slide his hands down the waistband of your pants, settling just above your pussy.

“Yeonjun…”

Your whimpers turn him on further as he begins rubbing circles on your clit through your panties and you throw your head back at the sheer amount of pleasure you’re feeling at the moment. He switches his attention from one nipple to the other, trading his fingers up and down your slit, feeling the wetness collect on the fabric separating his fingers from your heat. You don’t realize your grip has gotten impossibly tighter, accidentally pushing his head further into your chest, not that he minded.

“You’re rough, I like it.”

He pulls his head away from your chest and you whine at the loss of contact, the warmth his hold brought you being replaced by the cooling of his saliva all over your boobs. He pulls you close enough to him to help you take off your pants and underwear, sitting you back down on your desk as he admires your glistening lips, sliding down both his sweats and his boxers.

He goes over to his bag and pulls out a condom before rolling it on to his painfully hard erection.

“You just carry condoms on you at all times?”

“It came in handy, didn’t it?”

He smirks at your failed attempt at being snarky, grabbing your waist as he slides the head between your folds. Your arms rest on his shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as the other twiddles with the necklace he has on.

“You tease too much…”

Yeonjun guides you back and forth on his dick, relishing in the little yet satisfying pleasure he’s giving himself right now. One hand rests on your pelvis, thumb reaching down to circle your clit as you hiss, biting your lip to suppress the moan you desperately want to let out.

“Please Yeonjun…”

Your begging only made it harder for him to resist you, slowly bringing the head down to your sopping entrance, groaning as he pushes it past your walls.

“Fuck you’re so tight. Gotta stretch you out on my cock.”

You wince as he pushes himself in deeper, releasing a sigh of content as he fully sheathes himself inside you. He keeps his thumb on your clit, the speed of his actions constant.

“Y-you can move now…”

He moves slowly, still letting you adjust before moving at a more constant pace. You’re mindful of the moans pushing past your open lips, finding it hard to contain them as he sets a firm rhythm. You look down beside you and pick up what’s left of the joint. Yeonjun takes note of your actions, holding you steady with both of his hands as you grab the lighter to reignite the substance. You bring it to your lips once again, letting the effect of the weed wash over you, reveling in the heightened effect of the drug.

You hold the joint up to Yeonjun’s mouth, smiling lazily as he takes a hit, his hips never stopping their relentless pounding into your pussy. He attaches his lips to your neck once again allowing the smoke to escape and you to stabilize yourself while his thumb goes back to circling your clit, this time much faster than before. He also speeds up thrusts, the volume of your moans increasing as his harsh thrusts knock the desk back into the wall over and over again. You’re afraid of the amount of noise you’re making, worried about whether or not your neighbors can hear the scandalous sounds coming from your room, but all worry flies out the window when Yeonjun leans you back, bringing your hips up to a whole new angle for him.

“Yeonjun!!”

You scream as his tip hits your spot so deliciously, legs wrapping around him, pulling him that much closer. He chuckles as your face scrunches up, indicative of your close release. He can’t help but to move faster, pistoning his hips at an incredible speed, one that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as a gush of liquid comes rushing out of you.

“Yeah that’s it, squirt all over my cock for me. Let it all out…”

You’re so high that you barely even register the fact that you just squirted all over him, creating a mess on your floor. Your feelings only seem to intensify as the overstimulation kicks in, sensitive walls clenching down on him as your second orgasm approaches you quickly, his fingers still working your clit.

“I’m… I’m gonna cum again… Y-yeonjun please…”

Your whines come out broken and sporadic, not sure how much more you can take.

“Hold on for me a little longer baby, I’m almost there.”

You nod as you pull his head back down to you, kissing him one last time as he nails his final thrust, hips stilling in you as he feels himself fill the condom. Your pants and sighs fill the now smokey room.

“I didn’t know you could squirt like that baby girl. You’re so fucking hot”

He carefully pulls out of you, making sure not to let any cum seep out of the condom. You wince as he pulls out, legs feeling like jelly as you release him from your hold. After discarding the condom, he quickly reaches for the napkins you have sitting on top of the fridge, cleaning you up before kneeling on the cold floor to wipe up any remnants of your release.

“You look good when you’re on your knees,”

You say playfully, biting your lip as you watch him clean your floor.

“I was right.”

Your head feels empty and you’re slightly tingly. The high you were having definitely intensified the feeling you were having during sex but it did nothing to help jog your memory.

“What are you talking about”

“Have you already forgotten”

You shrug as you jump off the desk, using his shoulder to help ground yourself as your legs recover from their jelly-like state and proceed to put your clothes back on.

“I told you that smoking would help you feel more relaxed. I guess in your case it also helped you be more bold.”

Your usual eye roll was replaced by a giggle.

“Did I really say that? I guess I had no idea what I was talking about?”

He laughs with you as he finishes cleaning the floor, pulling his pants back on before putting his weed materials away, shirtless.

You keep staring at him, realizing that you were too high and too needy to notice his toned abs before.

“I can send you a picture of them if you want? You don’t have to keep staring at me like that.”

He pulls his sweater over his head to which you pout, upset that your view was now covered.

“Relax, you’ll see them again the next time we do this.”

“Next time?”

You couldn’t say that you hated the feeling of being high, but maybe you weren’t in the right mind to be making decisions like that.

“Yeah? Next time we work on the project we can get high and do this again. It was fun.”

He puts his stuff away in his bag, leaving it on your inflatable chair. He wasn’t just gonna leave you after fucking you whilst you were still high.

“We got a pretty good portion of the project done today. We don’t even have to meet up to finish out individual parts.”

You say, reminding him about your 6 hour grind to finish as much of the project as you could.

“What are you trying to say?”

He says while fixing his glasses and hair in your mirror.

“I’m saying the next time we meet we don’t have to do work.”

He makes eye contact with you through the mirror, his smirk hard to hide at your insinuation.

“You dirty girl. So bold when you’re high, only want me over to have sex.”

“Well… to have sex and get high! I do enjoy your presence but I’ve never felt so good before. That was like heaven.”

Even though he didn’t know you that well, he could tell the effects of the weed were still strong on you, watching you yap away, knowing you probably won’t remember this conversation in the morning. He just laughs at your comment as you put your stuff away.

You watch as he goes back to his seat, moving his bag back to the floor. You walk up to him, sitting down on his lap. You tangle your fingers in his hair, staring at his lips again, which are also swollen. His eyes follow your gaze and he throws his head back in laughter, scaring you a little as you flinch at unexpected sound.

“You’re still horny?”

“What makes you say that?”

You play dumb as if you weren’t just drooling over his lips.

“But we just put our clothes back on!”

He whines, fixing your position so that you’re properly straddling him.

“Yeah but, you aren’t gonna reject me right? Not when I’m high and needy because of you?”

You feign your best soft voice and puppy eyes, trying your best to hold back from laughing in his face at your own antics. Yeonjun takes your face in his hand, giving you a sweet smile.

“No of course not, that would make me a monster.”

He says, pulling you back in for another kiss as you settle in. Maybe smoking a little bit of weed wasn’t so bad after all.

#starrihan #txt #txt smut #yeonjun #yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun #choi yeonjun smut #tomorrow by together #tomorrow by together smut #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together smut #kpop #kpop smut #kpop imagine #yeonjun x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x reader smut #choi yeonjun x reader smut

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shrimpyjackal · 21 hours ago

Note

I NEED to see your versions of grown-up Sammy and Goldie

☆urgently☆

OK that last part is up to you but still give us at least some doodles of 'em pls

well that was not urgent....

I think I tried to do my spin on Goldie in this post, but now I have a tiny changes in her design! Mainly i changed ner hairstyle & made the prev clothes as an alternate option!

I have a concept of em in their casual clothes! ...they have a dozen outfit versions, this is not even funny-

Yapping abt the sillies down below!

Despite the fact that in teen years Sammy was the tallest even in non-human form...now he is the shortest one. Goldie & Peri are the same height, but her shoes make her taller than him. Irep is obv the tallest one-

they all split-up after graduation, and even if they all wanted- they wont find the time or desire to meet. If you wanna catch them all- trap them... Or pull a school-reunion card

Sammy cackled out-loud when heard abt Peri and Godparenting in one sentence. Stopped laughing when realised it was serious.

Goldie had opened to Sammy the world of skirts with poskets and he was not the same since.

Sammy:

Dude is in the middle of development of his food critic career. Never meet him while hes at work. Its like a meeting an entirely different person

oh and btw he is that one friend that has an immediate and drastic communication style-switch depending on the situation or friends he is with,. Often mirrors your behavior, so just be polite with him- he`ll be polite with you

Hanged out with Irep too much- developed a huge love for dark/achromatic clothing with small colorful accents

pockets in his skirts can be so big they can hold his Sparkle Stick without magic expancion. And Da Stick is like 50 cm/ 19`7 in long.

Goldie:

Goldie is a fairly great voice actor! ( i LOVED her voice as a kid so much you have no idea-)

One time teen Goldie (as a joke) participated in a human-world contest for a VA of a side-character in a game, but forgot abt the contest & never knew she won. If anyone told her- she would cry that she missed the opportunity to be popular even outside of the Fairy World

She has hair extentions, her actual hair are shoulder-lengh, and she sometimes dye the tips in pretty colors, for the events.

oh she LOVES pearls, even the uneven-looking ones. Has a lot of handmade pearl-bags. They`re small, but who needs a lot of stuff anyway?

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fan-goddess · 1 day ago

Text

If he’s a ghost, I can be a phantom

Authors Note: So this has taken way too long for me to write. I hit way too many blocks last year so hopefully i won't have the same with this one. I think though I'll be taking a haitus just to clear my head, as i want to take some space while i focus on other things

Word count: 14.2k words

Taglist: @hoosbandewan @humanpurposes @watercolorskyy @omgbrcat @blue-serendipity @arcielee

Warnings: Heavy sexism, patriarchal views, cheating, angst, sexual tension, does reader come off as i'm not like other girls? kissing, blood, descriptions of bullet wound, talk of one night stands, alcohol, arousal, threats of murder, pervy men (if i miss any which im sure i did let me know so i can add it.)

The mission was not supposed to go like this.

It was supposed to be a quick and easy mission, but you suppose simplicity is not as easy to maintain or even believe to be true, when you’re bleeding with a gunshot wound to your shoulder and at least a litre and a half of blood spilled on a once pristine white carpet.

Tom Bennett is supposedly one of the best of the best. He was recruited when he was still pretty young from the army, and since then, had been trained ruthlessly to know how to shoot and where the places had to be to look like somebody else’s vengeance.

You yourself were similar, but you actually had the smarts going for you rather than the brawn. Soon as you graduated from university with a degree in foreign communications, two men in suits were sitting on your sofa describing what’ll happen and how in very painstakingly detailed ways.

You’d never met Agent Tom Bennett before the mission briefing, but you had certainly heard of him. Son of a pacifist from Manchester, who ironically likes to get into one too many fights that the agency, while not being happy about paying the damages for, does not mention since Bennett does the job needed. What you hear most however from your coworkers, is how he never leaves a mission without a notch in his post, even if it’s from his fellow agent.

So when being told your mission and your partner, your male supervisor gave you a once over and told you to keep your head high and your legs firmly shut. And like the good girl you pretended to be, you just nodded your head so you could work and die someplace better than the dreary country that is mother England.

Even sitting in that briefing room waiting for Agent Bennett to grace you all with his presence you swore you could feel the eyes of every person in that room making bets in their heads whether you’d sleep with him on the mission or not. And by how you analysed everyone watching you, the probability of it being yes was quite frankly staggering.

“Hello hello hello!” A man's voice says, and when you turn to look at the intruder unlike everyone else who simply didn't care enough to turn, you’re met with such a cocky smirk you know exactly who this is.

“And who is this pretty little lady?” Tom says, finally directing his attention to you who just continues to sit there with a blank face.

“It’s Agent to you Agent Bennett.”

“Oh is it now? Well I’m very sorry, agent. I’ll be sure to address you right from now on shan’t I? Though I’m sure with our mission we’ll get on like a house on fire by the end.” Agent Bennett grins, sitting down directly next to you and plopping his arm round your neck. Though to his own amusement only, you immediately shove him off you and move yourself further down the sofa with a huff.

The supervisor overseeing the mission's progress thankfully manages to distract him by beginning the debriefing.

“Agents, we are sending you to France in a few weeks to-“

“Fuck off!” Agent Bennett shouts which even after all your training still manages to make you jump in your seat.

“As I was saying,” The supervisor starts again, glaring hard at Agent Bennett who sulks in his seat like a child on the verge of a tantrum. “You’ll be going to France to infiltrate and retrieve some information from a corrupt politician's estate that he keeps in a hard drive inside of a vault in his office.”

“What’s the security on the estate and vault?” You ask, as Agent Bennett it seems is still acting like a spoiled child after being told he needs to go to France, when already off the top of your head you could list so many other much worse places he could’ve been told he needed to go.

“The usual security protocol. He has security cameras equipped with night vision, guards to patrol the grounds as well as guard dogs trained to attack on site, and sensors in regards to lights, doors and of course the safe, which you two need to get into. We couldn't find anything about it in our extensive research, so you'll both need to use your heads when faced with that later on in the mission.”

“Sounds impossible…” You can’t help but comment.

“Oh come on, love don’t sound so negative!” Bennett grins. You can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye but it appears you’ve already managed to grow tired of his bullshit, so instead you merely look to the supervisor who, like you, appears to be attempting to ignore the guy. “I’m sure we’ll be done before suppers on the table!”

“Sure.” You simply say, rolling your eyes while the supervisor already looks ready to chuck Agent Bennett into the enemies home arse first.

“Now, you two will be our main operatives with the surveillance team being ready to assist whenever they’re needed. It took some work, but we managed to get a good enough alibi to get you both inside as it turns out our politician has a fancy for private masquerade balls.”

As he says this a much younger recruit who looks barely old enough to drink in Europe passes you and Agent Bennett your individual case files, and when you open it to look at your latest identity, you find yourself having to hold in your disgust.

“Mrs Dahlia Carrington?” You can’t help but question out loud, already dreading what Agent Bennett will say.

“Yes wife?” Like clockwork, his annoying voice rings out boiling your blood with every syllable. “As Mr Thomas Carrington, I suppose it is my duty to make sure my beloved is dressed to her best!”

“Never call me that again.”

“Just getting us both into the mood sweetie!”

“Don’t call me that either!” You snap, turning to him with a clenched fist that you oh so desperately want to damage his pretty smirking face with.

“Enough the both of you!” Your supervisor begs, glaring at you and Agent Bennett and making you feel like a child being lectured by their parents. “Agent Bennett, I for one can say have had enough with your playboy nature and how it constantly affects your missions. Will you behave this time, or will I need to prepare another incident report for your arrival with an extra year or two suspended field training?”

And like a child who’s been lectured by a parents, Agent Bennett pouts with a furrowed expression.

“No sir…”

“Good. Now learn your documents and meet with your team. They have the necessary equipment you’ll be needing to get familiar with. Formal wear included.”

You take the supervisor's ending nod as your dismissal and take the file in your hand as you leave. You do not dare look at Agent Bennett, especially as he begins to moan again only this time because he’s been told he has to wear a suit and tie, yet still you manage to get the feeling of goosebumps erupting on your back as you swear you feel his gaze roam your behind.

You cannot be bothered to snap at the man again, so you just sigh loudly to let him know of your annoyance at his actions, and his deep chuckle rings through your mind as you walk away.

As you sit on the stool waiting for your outfit to arrive for you to try it on, you read the file carefully making sure to try and memorise every word possible.

The man whose house you are to sneak into, with help of Agent Bennett as the supervisor had spoken in the debriefing, is a pure French blooded politician whose work slowly turned more and more poisoned against the good of the people. Most recently, he’s gotten access to certain information that could bring about war if placed into the hands of the wrong people, and like the idiot he is, he’s kept it on his computer in his estate.

So what you and Agent Bennett are simply assigned to do, is act like you’re both members of high society to get inside the politician's home and retrieve the information stored most likely on his laptop.

It seems very simple. But then again, all the files of Agent Bennett's other missions seemed simple too, and most of them ended up in millions of pounds in property damage and at least a couple hundred dead bodies needing an explanation only the government could provide.

“Here we are my dear!” The stylist says as he walks through the door with your dress in his hand.

Before you had been given access to missions and was stuck on desk duty, you had never realised that being an agent stylist was an actual job offered here at headquarters. But now that you’ve been upgraded and done a good amount of missions you definitely see why it’s necessary, especially since the bulletproof vest has certainly saved your skin once or twice.

“Oh Stan, it's gorgeous!” You gush as he hangs it on the rack and steps back to allow you to see it in its full glory.

The dress's colour is mainly a deep blue, similar to that of a sapphire, but in the middle where the deep blue fabric separates the fabric is a much lighter shade that you can only describe as being like the cornflowers you see in the fields. The dresses shoulder cuffs are short with a barely noticeable belt keeping the dress firmly fitted. The same sapphire shade continues down the dress till the very end, which happens to be just around your ankles which is the just the way you like your dresses to be.

Overall, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

“I’m glad you think so.” Stan smiles, stepping back towards the dress so he can show you the extra special details not seen by the public. “Now the fabric this is made out of is bullet resistant thread. It’ll stop the bullet going in you, but it’s not perfect. If you’re under fire and hit one too many times it’ll rip and you’ll get shot. Understand?”

“Understood.”

“Good. The dress is tailored for your preference, as I remember you saying you didn’t like too long dresses. Also, it’s not too short so it shows the knife or pistol that you will no doubt have strapped to your thigh. Other than those two things the dress is pretty explanatory and simple. Still, anything you wanna ask about?”

“Why blue?” You can’t help but ask. Usually you’d be asking all about the dynamics and the science behind it. But right now, you can’t help but feel curious when looking at the colour of the dress that you rarely ever see on your other wardrobe items.

“Cause Agent Bennett said it’d bring out your eyes.” Stan simply says, full on cackling with amusement when he sees your face melt into an untimely scowl.

On the day before the mission, the supervisor claimed that to get into a better mindset for the roles you and Agent Bennett needed to play, you both needed to spend a night in a nearby hotel.

Though you should’ve known that bastard was up for something when he smiled whilst he said this, as after speaking to the female receptionist, who seemed all too eager in your opinion in eyeing up your pretend husband, and heading to the room, you discover only one bed. And what’s worse, if it somehow could’ve been, is that it was covered in rose petals.

The supervisor had booked the two of you a honeymoon suit.

It was like he was enticing Agent Bennett to attempt to sleep with you, not that you’d ever let him get near enough though of course.

“Well could’ve been worse I s’pose!” Agent Bennett sniffs as he walks around the room. He opens every cabinet, leaves every door open, chucks his bags and other belongings on the bed until eventually his unique bout of chaos settles and he’s sitting on a sofa chair by the open window with an open bag of peanuts in one hand, a bottle of soda in another, and an old fashioned movie playing in the background.

“What?” He muffles with his mouth full. “If the agency is paying for it all, which I know they are, better make the most of it Mrs!”

“Don’t call me that.” You simply say, refusing to admit he’s actually correct for once in his statement. Instead you just take the time to organise your suitcase and your belongings so everything is where it should be and in a discreet place in case housekeeping decides to visit while you’re away.

This evening, you and your pretend husband were going to go, or rather are being ordered to go, downstairs for dinner to further push this idea that the two of you were just a regular married couple.

So about an hour before the dinner reservation in the hotels restaurant while Agent Bennett was too busy trying to find a channel on the hotels tv that wasn't all in bloody French, you slipped into the bathroom to attempt to slip yourself in a dress suitable enough for an evening meal, but not too revealing as to look like you're trying to be invited to work undercover in the red light district.

You stare at the five differently styled dresses you narrowed your two suitcases to, and can't help but sigh to yourself. How on earth have you managed to get yourself in this particular situation?

"Oi! You gonna be any longer missus? Think I'm gonna piss myself here with how long you've been on the loo for!"

"Piss off the balcony for all I care, I'm changing!" You yell back, not looking away from the line of dresses hung up on the shower curtain line.

"Touchy touchy... well if ya want I could always come in and-"

"Over my dead body!" This time, you sharply turn to the door and glare as you picture Agent Bennett on the other side with his smug smirk and his crossed arms that manage to somehow make his biceps bigger than what they were. Ugh it makes you sick in the stomach just thinking about them.

"For god's sake love open the door and I'll choose the god damn dress so you can quit fussing and I can quit trying not to piss myself over the carpet! I don't wanna barge in cause you're a lady and all that but i'm a desperate man over here!" He says, and you can't help but giggle for a moment as you imagine him hopping about with crossed legs and his arms crossed over his bladder. Still, with a straight face you unlock and open the bathroom door and stand aside as to your amusement, Agent Bennett just as you imagined, shuffles into the room with his legs fused together.

"The red one." He simply says, barely managing to get a look at them all before deciding on one you suspect at random.

"But it's got that massive slit down the side that shows my knee. I want to be formal, not like I'm looking for a good time."

"So go with the yellow." He quickly fires, definitely making eyes at the toilet.

"Washes me out like Edward Cullen."

"He an ex of yours or something? Green looks charming."

"I'm gonna respectfully choose to ignore that statement and accept your apology. Besides, I don't have the shoes to go with it."

"Choose the black one or I'm pissing with or without you in the room. And a word of warning, I think a number two may be coming up on the horizon sweetheart."

"You're disgusting." You snap, grabbing all the dresses from the shower curtain rail and swiftly retreating from the room. You can hear Agent Bennett's unique chuckle echo as you begin shutting the door behind you, and you refuse to believe it's why your heart feels like it's beating a million beats a second hard against your rib cage.

You stare in the mirror as you place the black dress in front of yourself in an attempt to see how it looks, and you can't help but think damn. You look fucking hot.

As you walked beside Agent Bennett arm in arm into the restaurant, you swore you could feel somebody's eyes resting on you. Even after the two of you had sat down and ordered some drinks, the back of your neck felt sweltering from the eyes of another.

“It’s cause of the dress.” Your pretend husband insisted as he sipped on some of the red wine. Apparently ordering a plain old lager wasn’t very upper class of him. “Your tits look really good in it.”

“Don’t look at my breasts agent Bennett!” You scowl, moving your arms to shield his and possibly even the other set of eyes from your slightly revealed skin.

“Maybe don’t call me agent Bennett whilst we’re undercover wifey.” He smirks, choosing to blissfully ignore your previous demand.

“Fine! Husband, do not stare at my breasts in public.”

“So you’re fine with me going it in the privacy of our room? Good to know.”

“If we weren’t in public right now I swear I’d-“

“Are you both ready to order some starters?” A voice interrupts you admittedly with a start. When you turn around a relatively young man possibly even younger than yourself stands there in a fancy suit and a small notebook in hand. He’s got a charming smile you suppose, but the eyes tell an entirely different story as you can see him very clearly taking the opportunity to look down the front of your dress.

“I’ll take the dived scallops with charred leak, onion broth and pink purslane.” You snap the starter menu shut loudly which thankfully draws the attention of the waiter from your breasts. He even seems to be bashful as his face turns a light pink and he coughs a few times as he adjusts himself.

“And you sir?” He finally squeezed, turning to Tom who looked at the man unimpressed as if he wasn’t doing practically the same thing not even five minutes ago.

“I’ll take the same as my wife.” Tom emphasizes those last two words firmly while he glares at the poor boy who begins to stutter out an apology towards you.

"I-I'm sorry ma'am! I'll send someone else over to take the rest of your order!" And like that, the lad runs off with his tail between his legs, leaving you with a distinct yet mixed feeling of both shame and gratitude, while Tom begins to chug the rest of his glass of wine and refills the empty glass with a smile like the cat who ate the canary.

Five minutes go by filled only with the background noise of the restaurant's classical music and the conversations of other hotel guests, and finally another person comes over dressed in the same looking suit.

"Hi my name is Henriette and I shall be taking the rest of your order and helping you with any issues you may or may not face for the rest of the evening. I see my colleague has already taken your starters, but could I please have the rest of your intended food order?" Compared to the other guy, this woman certainly acts like she belongs here.

"I'm afraid to say my dear that my husband is very particular with his food order so I will be deciding for him or else we'll both end up going hungry! I shall have for my main the ratatouille, while he'll have the beef carbonnade. For desserts, me and my husband will each have a chocolate ganache cake with the amarena cherries.”

“Perfect choice Madame!” Henriette smiles as she takes the yours and Tom’s menus before nodding her head to you slightly and walking away.

“I’m very particular with my food?”

“Yes. Like a child who refuses to eat their vegetables because they’re green.”

“I would take offence to that if it wasn’t true.” Tom admits, even shrugging his shoulders while you giggle slightly at his action.

The rest of the evening is filled with chatter and smiles that are not as reluctant as you’d like to admit. That stare you felt at the beginning of the night washes away as you concern yourself with Tom and his antics that leave your cheeks aching from how relaxed you've been with him.

The food soon arrives one after another, and each time a plate is placed in front of Tom he gives you a look of untrustworthiness as he raises his fork and moves to take a bite. Yet every time he does this he gives you a look of satisfying defeat which you always respond with a smile.

By the time the desserts arrive, Tom has eaten every bite of the food you chose for him, and you remember that fact distinctively so you could rub it in his face later on.

"So... how's the food been?" You can't help but ask as you savor the way too overpriced little cake that's about the same size as the distance between your thumb and your palm.

"They've been pretty good." He grunts, eyes focused on the cake he doesn't care about the size of, only the rich taste and the thought of how younger he would've killed for this sort of food.

"Pretty good? If we weren't in public I'd think you were about to lick the goddamn plate."

"Not my fault the portions are small as fuck."

"Tom, don't swear in public, it's unbecoming!"

"Jesus what are you my father now? Or my sister?"

"Tom, what are you talking about?" Your brow furrows in confusion at Tom's sudden change in mood. Where was that person who half an hour ago was joking and riling you up with only the topic of your own boobs for gods sake and who is this moody teenager that replaced him?

"Cause I know you're just putting up with me cause you were assigned to me." he begins, but pauses to refill his glass. That's when you realise exactly why his tongue seems to be so loose and why his mood is so well, moody. Tom Bennett has allowed himself to indulge practically at the very start of the mission and is now sitting in front of you pissed as a sea sailor on bloody red wine of all things. "You're probably thinking about how pathetic I am right now! Oh how pathetic is it that top agent Bennett is getting drunk so early!"

"Jesus Christ Tom, can you keep it together!" You attempt to whisper, but ultimately fail as you see everyone is slowly beginning to turn to look at the two of you including the waitress from earlier.

So in an attempt to halt the damage already made, you grab Tom's arm and try to pull him from his chair so you can drag him back to your room and let him sleep this mood swing off. Though that's about as effective as running through water as he just slumps against you and nearly knocks you straight to the floor, training be damned it seems.

"Do you wish for me to help you Madame? I could get someone at the front desk to help?" The familiar voice of Henriette says.

"No thank you I am perfectly capable Henriette. I am used to dragging my husband away when he's gotten into one of his moods. As much as he denies it every time he has never been very good at holding his alcohol no matter the amount of times he does it." You have to force yourself to act calm and like a true high class lady, but anyone with eyes could see how frustrated you were at that moment as you refrained yourself from whacking Tom over the head and teaching him a lesson.

You somehow manage to get Tom out of the dining hall with the stares of every man and woman in that room no doubt judging your sham of a marriage with their eyes and tongues. Just as you're about to leave though, you suddenly remember the bill and almost go straight back leaving Tom in the middle of the corridor whilst you sort it out, but then with a sigh of utmost gratitude you also remember how it'll be charged at the end of your stay.

“Where are you taking me, wife?” He grumbles, feeling you stop him so suddenly he gets the urge to throw up.

“Back to our room husband. Because of you and your inability to hold your alcohol, our mission may have failed before it even began.”

This time, the hotheaded agent doesn’t have a response to give you. Instead, he just closes his eyes and leans himself against you, allowing himself to be dragged to the room. In the elevator though there is some elderly woman decked to the dimes in diamonds and sapphires who gives the two of you a knowing look from where she stands.

“Long night?” She asks you, staring straight ahead as the doors close behind you.

“Tell me about it…” You laugh, grunting as Tom begins to slip and you’re forced to pull him up further against you. She laughs with you with a look in her eyes as if she’s remembering something long ago, and with that the conversation between you ends.

She gets off on the next floor, and you and Tom manage to make it back to your room giving the impression of a young dutiful wife just taking her drunk husband back to their room.

Soon as you get inside, you chuck Tom off you onto the sofa and chuckle as you imagine him waking up in the middle of the night with a sore back and his evening clothes.

You change into comfy pajamas you packed and get into bed, almost falling straight to sleep with how comfy the bed and pillows are, but not before listening to the sound of Tom's snoring that sends you into a deep sleep.

When you wake on the morning of the mission to the sound of your alarm, you can’t help but allow your eyes to be drawn to the sofa where you expect to see Toms drooped over a wine stinking body. Only there’s no one there.

“Tom?” You call out as you step out the bed and make your way to the bathroom thinking maybe he’s in there throwing up his insides. Only when you hear no response or even any throwing up noises do you enter to find it in the exact same way you left it this morning.

When you touch the sofa you take note of how it’s slightly cold to the touch, and can’t help yourself but think about Tom possibly staggering from his seat late at night whilst you slept and got himself in trouble.

The anxiety gnaws at your mind as the possibilities of what could’ve happened to him keep coming at you.

Where did he go?

What if he went looking for more alcohol in a dingy bar somewhere and got caught?

What if he’s lying somewhere dead?

By the time you come around your nails are half shredded and your legs are shaking slightly from how long you’ve been standing up. And to keep yourself sane for the time being you find yourself for the first time ever texting Agent Tom Bennett.

The agency for every new case assigns the agent a different phone with all the information and numbers needed. You’d been given yours after the debriefing, and yet somehow Tom had already begun to spam you with random texts throughout the day.

What is your favourite food? What's your drink of choice? What’s your favourite colour?

You never answered, partially because leaving him on read was an exhilarating experience. So texting him now felt strange to do.

Where are you?

You texted him that first. But after five minutes of watching the pixilated words be left unanswered and unread you sent him another.

I hope your having the worst hangover of your life. You deserve it after last night and how you acted. Show up to the mission sober if you can go so long without a drink I’m surprised the so great agent Bennett is an alcoholic

You take a break staring in order to take a shower and hopefully clear your thoughts. As you step out the bathroom and begin to towel dry your hair you hear your phone ping with a notification, and it’s as if rocks have been tied to your feet with how heavy they feel walking to your phone.

You open it with a hitched breath, and you almost get the urge to chuck it straight out the balcony doors when you see the message.

Didn’t think you’d have worried about little old me that much Mrs. And don’t worry, my hangover, which I’m sad to report is practically non existant, will probs be gone before the mission even begins. I’ll meet you there when you need me.

And when you think it’s over, he sends another

By the way it’s you’re when speaking bout my headache love, not your ;)

“Bastard.” You groan this time chucking yourself against the bed. Why does he take such pleasure in your annoyance? Why does he seem to enjoy making your life so hard?

In the end in an attempt to take your mind off the hurricane that was Tom Bennett you switch your phone off and spend the whole day in your hotel room fixing yourself up for this evening.

You firstly treat yourself to room service breakfast involving pancakes, croissants, bacon and the whole nine dimes. Then after cleaning yourself up you got onto the actual dressing up aspect.

The dress as soon as you had arrived in the room yesterday was hung up on a hook from within its protective bag in the wardrobe, and when you retrieve it and unravel it you go just as breathless as you were when you first saw it.

The blue is still as breathtaking and the length still as satisfactory. You almost get the girlish urge to put it on now and twirl around like how you did as a child in your Disney princess costume, but stop yourself as you remember Stan warning you not to crease the dress at all, so to be safe you zip the protective cover straight back up and close the wardrobes door firmly to be safe.

So you move on to trying on everything else. The bra you plan to wear isn't too important as the dress will cover up your shoulders so that's out of the way.

The shoes take up some time but in your opinion not long enough. Since practically as soon as the questions come at you their answers come shooting in quick succession behind them. The question on what was nonexistent as since you knew dancing was going to happen whether by the agencies demand or even Toms, heels were out of the question. And since there were few other shoes packed for you in your suitcase you soon found yourself with some dark navy kitten heels that managed to make you feel elegant and safe at the same time.

Makeup though was your biggest time consumer though. You spent hours thinking about what was suitable and what was not with all the products that had been packed all laid out on the dresser table in front of you.

You couldn't put too much on, as then everyone would stare and you might as well cancel the mission before it's even begun. Though you couldn't go without any or be super subtle with it all or else even then you'll get judgemental stares from people. So you spend quite a bit of time in front of the mirror putting various different products on your face and finally after what thankfully feels like forever, you find a style that suits both you and the mission at hand perfectly.

When experimenting, you did debate on possibly wearing something you think would interest the man whose house you're infiltrating, but you soon put that thought to bed when the con list became longer than the pros, not that there was even anything on there in the beginning. You had no idea what he was truly like behind closed doors apart from of course betraying his country and his people that is.

Though the one you wear now, it makes you feel powerful.

It’s a good mixture of subtle yet striking, with the use of eyeliner forcing people to look into your eyes. There’s only a little conditioner and foundation to cover up a few spots and blemishes. The only other thing you decide to use make-up wise is some lipstick that’s a little darker than your natural lip shade.

You decide to take it off as it’s still a while before you need to leave before the ball, so to waste time you do what you never would’ve done before this mission.

You sat on the bed in a complimentary dressing gown, ordered some fancy lunch, and watched reality tv. You watch it all as you eat without any complaints. It feels like you were a teenager all over again without a care in the world.

Though soon the time ticks away and it’s about time for you to get changed into your outfit and prepare your weapons. A small pistol strapped to your thigh. A signet looking ring on your ring finger that when activated, could deliver 50 thousand volts to whoever is unlucky enough to be on the receiving end of it. And your personal favourite, a pepper spray that’s disguised to look like a shade of red lipstick.

When that’s all sorted though and hidden away from the public eye, only then do you dare turn your phone back on. You don’t really know what to expect. Messages from Tom begging for forgiveness? A message from your supervisor saying you’re gonna be extracted as Toms blew the mission?

You will say what you do find when you turn your phone. Nothing. No messages, no notifications, nothing.

It’s a blow to the stomach but you take it on the chin and deal with it, especially when it's Tom you’re dealing with.

Walking down to the lobby to get to the car that’ll bring you to the rich guy's mansion, you can feel the stares of others on your skin as you walk. To keep appearances you simply sway your hips as you pass to show you are unbothered by your past, and smile at yourself like you own the world.

Which you certainly feel like when you realise the car that’ll be dropping you off is a smaller yet still classy limousine, even equipped with an equally handsome man who opens the door for you to get in.

“Good evening Mrs Carrington,” The kind man begins as you slowly sway closer. “My name is Webster, and I shall be your chauffeur for the duration of this service. There are drinks within the back as-well as many small snacks in case you were feeling particularly peckish. Do you have any questions for me?”

“No thank you Webster I believe any I thought of have already been answered.” You just simply say with a smile of gratitude as you duck into the car and let out a sigh you didn’t even realise you were holding as you sat down on the soft leather.

You turn your head slightly to get a look at these drinks and small snacks on offer, and it truly does seem all your questions have been answered as you meet the eyes of your pretend husband for the evening as he drinks at a bottle of unlabelled substance.

“I’d have thought after yesterday you’d avoid alcohol…” You can’t help but snidely comment, watching as he grumbles at it.

“I came back didn’t I? Ain’t that the most important thing?”

“The most important thing Bennett, is you making sure you don’t screw this mission over with your day drinking.” You respond, and in an act of retaliation that shocks even you, you make a grab at the bottle of drink and sniff at the top to try and tell what it is.

Though you suppose it’s even more shocking for you to discover that the bottle doesn’t smell like cheap booze as you thought it was, but actually it was the scentless yet still recognisable scent of water.

“Not had a drop since yesterday.” Tom sneers, grabbing back the bottle to take another swig. "Wouldn't want to embarrass the perfect little agent anymore than I already have."

"Don't call me that Bennett." You snap, looking at him with hate in your eyes as you try to think back to the nice man you talked with yesterday.

"Why not Mrs? Aren't you the one who's got the 100% success rate in all their missions? The one who always catches the bad guy with not a single scratch on her soft delicate skin?" Tom continues to antagonise you and you swear you're this close to yanking that bottle from his hands and whacking him to death with it in this very car.

"Let's just focus on the mission, husband, so then this can all be over and done with and we can go back to never talking too or even better not even seeing each other again. Alright?"

"Fine..." He amusingly grumbles as he slumps further into the seat. "Run the plan by me again Mrs as I'm sure you've memorised it all already."

"I actually have, but if you insist. We get into the venue posing as Mr and Mrs Carrington, then socialise for a bit to appear as the average bourgeoisie couple, maybe even dance a bit if we need to. After that we head to the politician's office to extract the information from the hard drive within the vault. Hopefully we should be out and back in bed before midnight. Any questions?"

Tom, deciding to be the class clown in a car of only three people, raises his hand as if in a classroom. "I've got a question Mrs! Who said anything about dancing?"

"The supervisor did. As according to him we need to fit in as much as possible and that includes dancing whether you like the idea or not. Oh, and one more thing silly old me forgot to mention. Don't flirt with any lonely wives or daughters."

"Oh come on Mrs don't you think I have some self restraint?" He attempts to laugh with a smile on his face that soon much to your own amusement however, is quickly wiped away when he sees the dead seriousness of your expression and voice. "Do you really think that little of me?"

"Well within the first full day of knowing me you got drunk as a sailor after being honest for two seconds with me, then left in the middle of the night to do god knows what in the streets. So yes Agent Bennett, that is what I think of you."

"You remind me of my sister... I don't say that often or with great pleasure..." Tom grumbles while you yourself find yourself acting surprised at his words.

"You've got a sister?" You find yourself asking.

"Yeah. Lois. The brains of the family while I got the looks. Was a singer in a pub before she got the qualifications after having a baby to become a nurse at some great big hospital. Dad's little brainy-box while I'm sitting in a jail cell for another night." This time, you don't say the words that immediately pop into your head. As even as helpful as they will try to sound you know he'll take it as pity whichever way you say it. "Though I suppose I got the looks at least! We can agree on that, can't we missus! What you say after this we go to the pub? My treat!"

And with not even what you could say a snap of the fingers the energetic careful Agent Bennett returns. Along with the urge to smack him round the head with one hand while with the other you call HR.

"And do what? Just drinking?" You find yourself asking.

"Sure! And maybe more if you feel like it. No pressure at all! I do like my ladies, consenting I'll have you know!"

"Oh great you like the basic rules of sex. Good to know..." You grumble, and with your last strand of patience snapping, you find a small bottle of fruity cider you remember drinking back when you were a uni student and taking a swig.

"Now who needs to be told to watch their liquor!" Tom laughs.

"Shut it or I'm throwing you out of the car myself and making you walk."

"But I dunno where I'll be heading sweetheart!"

"Then ask a local for directions."

"But I don't speak french?"

"39% of the French population say they can speak English. With how much of a talker you tend to be, I'm sure you won't have much of an issue finding someone!"

After yours and Tom's little marital spat, as Tom himself called it as he grumbled like a toddler slouching against the seats, the rest of the ride to the estate was filled with silence. Occasionally the sound of a honking car or the regular noises of the bustling city life broke the silence, but apart from that you and Tom made no effort to get along.

You sometimes take a sip of the cider you opened without much thought, and you regret very soon as the taste washes over your tongue. There’s a reason why you drank this at uni. It’s cheap, it’s strong, and after a couple bottles you can’t remember your own name.

“We’re about five minutes from the location Mr and Mrs Carrington,” The driver says through the little intercom. “I suggest you start thawing out before the entrance.”

You and Tom look at each other from the corner of your eyes, and deep down know the man is right. Even if the two of you couldn’t stand each other right now, for the sake of the country as much as Tom claims to hate it you both do not want the innocent people to suffer.

“Fine.” You spit.

“Fine.” Tom grumbles back.

So like the loved-up couple you were both playing to be, with neither knowing who began moving first, yours and Tom's hand found each other and clutched together in a firm embrace.

When the both of you get out of the car at the front of the politician's house, your hands still clutch hard against one another as you both adorn the masks you’ve been given to conceal your identity.

In an almost ironic turn of events, you were given the mark of the devil, and Tom the mask of the angel.

"Looking good Mrs." You hear Tom say.

"Save it!" You simply snap back with your eyes facing straight forward. If he wants to try and make you begin liking him again with simple words, he's gonna have to try much harder than that. Preferably on his knees, but you don't mind as long as he truly shows his regret.

And with how you can practically hear him rolling his eyes at you, you know he'll at this point need to be doing a lot more than getting on his knees for you if you had anything to say to him.

The target as expected wasn't at the door to greet his guests. Instead, he simply walked around the rooms like God's greatest gift and allowed them the honour of approaching.

Only he wasn't going to be the spider standing idly by waiting for the fly to come to him. Tonight, he was the ignorant fly while you and Tom sat perched in your little web, venom ready awaiting the right moment to strike.

"You seen him yet angel?" Tom murmurs against your ear as he leads you into the main ball room with his hand perched firmly on your lower back. You can feel the warmth of his palm alone through the fabric of your clothes, and you hate the way it makes your stomach churn in a way that leaves you craving for more.

"If I saw him, I'd tell you." You just simply say, turning your head away from him as you still feel where his breath had tickled you. Somehow though, you didn't manage to pluck the courage inside you to move from his hand that still firmly imprints itself against you.

You can hear him lightly chuckle beside you, and with a quick yet heavy sip of the complimentary champagne you were offered when you both walked through the door, the mission began.

With every step forward you felt daggers piercing the back of your neck, and with every sudden high pitched laugh belonging to some man's wife you felt the grip on Tom's arm suddenly tighten.

"What you doing that for?!" He suddenly whispers after the fifth time.

"Something doesn't feel right..." You try to reason, resisting every urge to turn around.

"Oh I'm sorry. I guess I didn't realise I was partnered with the bloody girl who saw dead people."

"If we were not in this room full of people I want you to know I would've smacked you round the back of the head for that."

"Careful love. If you do it I may just like it."

"Save it for the gullible women you manage to con into sleeping with you." You attempt to seem disgusted at his actions as you think about how many women seem to be affected by Tom's typical charm, but then you're reminded that you were one of the women who'd fallen victim to his boyish-like smiles and his dopey laugh. You'll never admit this to anyone, but your face may have turned a little pink at the memory.

"Only if that gullible woman is you my sweet." Tom quips right back, smiling at you in such a way it feels like your heart may beat out of your chest. Yet to stop him from charming you anymore, you just roll your eyes and nudge Tom into the direction of the bar.

"Thought you said I wasn't allowed to drink?

"I did. It's just the extra cherry on top of the milkshake being able to drink in front of you. Like eating chocolate in front of a child past its bed time." You grin, ordering a double gin and tonic and finishing that first sip with an exaggerated sigh. "Husband, would you mind paying the bartender for my drink pretty please? I seem to have left my purse at home!"

"Any man that makes his wife pay for her own drinks looking like that in that dress is no man." The bartender comments, looking you up and down as he takes Tom's card and puts it through the machine. While the man's back is turned for a moment you can't help but observe him.

You recognise him from the list of employees you looked at before arriving tonight. His name is Henry Clarkes, a ginger middle aged man from Exeter currently on his 3rd marriage collapse. Though to be fair, that wouldn't have happened if he hadn't gotten another girl even younger than yourself pregnant with his 4th child. Though that's just your opinion...

By your side Tom grumbles something illegible as he stares daggers into the back of the man's head. And to your surprise, he only manages to push out an obviously strained thanks that even the man behind the bar chuckles at. So before Tom takes it upon himself to leap across that bar and beats the man black and blue, you take Tom's hand firmly in your own to squeeze it tight and drag him away from the scene.

"Bet you loved that." He says soon as you're far enough away. "But you would've taken him into our hotel room if I wasn't there!"

"Fucks sake Tom if i'd have known you were just as a dickhead sober I would've gotten you a drink before we came here. Maybe it would've made you more bearable..."

"So you don't deny it!" He growls, pulling you with a yelp as he forces you to a wall at the edge of the party. "You would've fucked him in our bed?"

"Jesus Tom no I would not have fucked that random man in our hotel bed!" You try to whisper, but it's sort of hard too when there's gossipy women practically circling you where you stand. "Unlike you, I don't sleep with random people I've met in the span of less than a minute!"

"I don't do that anymore!" Is that his defence? Really?

"Since when? This morning!?"

"Since I realised I'd be working with you a few weeks ago." It's the way he says it so quickly you suppose is what makes you so flustered. The way he had no hesitation in the words as if he had been waiting to say them all his life.

"Tom... I-"

"My my and who are these two lovebirds tucked away in the corner?" A voice suddenly says, bursting the two of you out of whatever trance you were entrapped in. You both turn to this person, and you have to physically stop yourself from reacting when you recognise them. The exact man whose home and party you just sneaked into, the corrupt french politician.

"I'm Dahlia Carrington monsieur, and this is my husband Thomas! I apologise for our behaviour, we were just having a little argument and-"

"Oh no need to apologise mademoiselle! I myself have at least one argument a day with my own wife!" That's cause you've been cheating on her with the nanny of your four children all under the age of 12. If it wasn't so sad to think about given the age gap, you'd have laughed at the cliche of it all. "Let me guess! She's been hitting the cards and the drinks a little too hard huh?"

Did this man really just manage to call you a gold-digger and some kind of alcoholic all in one insult? You think he did. Tom thinks it too, by the way he seems to glare the same kind of despising glaring at this man just like how he did at the bartender.

"Sure." Tom grits out, his jaw clenched down hard. You look down, and see that even his whole body is reared up.

Yet it seems this man is as dense as his security is, since he just keeps on talking.

"You know what you need to do son? Need to get her on a tighter leash if you ask me!" If Tom doesn't hit him, you definitely will at this point. "Maybe even give her a child! Cause I can tell from her figure alone that she hasn't had any yet! But trust me on this, only have a single son! Cause then you've got the heir, the wife off your back, and a still tight one when you need it! Oh, and by the way mademoiselle, you may want to smile a bit more. Makes you look all wrinkled and old."

How is this man smiling right now at you? He has just told you that you were pretty much just at best, a childbearing sex doll for your husband, and he's just standing there with the biggest fucking grin on his face drinking some million dollar looking champagne. How fucking dare?

"Ooh! I must be off now! There are so many guests to see and so little time... au revoir my good friends!" He smiles, disappearing into the crowd of the bourgeoisie, leaving you and Tom at the edge with anger written clearly on both your faces.

"I'm gonna kill him." You say first.

"Not if I do it first." Tom responds immediately after. "I'll push him down the stairs so everyone will claim it was cause he was drunk."

"I was just gonna shoot him in the head."

"Wouldn't that blow our cover?" Tom curiously asks, turning to you while you look back at him with a unique smile on your face that Tom can't help but cause a shiver to run up his spine.

"Doesn't matter to me. At least I get the satisfaction of knowing I rid the world of another patriarchal dickheaded twat..." You firmly say, watching Tom's mouth slowly turn into an almost impressed smirk.

"Fair enough wife. Fair enough."

Tom takes your hand in his as he slowly directs you through the room till you get to the staircase to the upper floors. Thankfully they haven't been shut off to the public, and instead people are being encouraged to look around and marvel at all the weird and frankly sort of disturbing memorabilia adorning the walls, such as stuffed animals being glass and paintings of worryingly young girls.

"His office is another floor up. If we continue looking like some regular prissy couple then we can get there easy." He says directing you further down the corridor to yet another set of stairs.

"If I knew I'd need to be climbing up so many stairs I'd have requested the costume team to have packed me more comfortable shoes..." You grumble as Tom looks over his shoulder to merely laugh at your pain.

"Awe, is the poor little lady unhappy she has to climb some simple stairs?" He pouts as he tilts his head, laughing loud at how you scowl at him. "I would've thought little miss perfect would've actually looked at the mission plans before this. My my was the mrs slacking?"

"Idiot." You simply sigh, rolling your ankles as soon as you get to the next floor. "I did look at the plans I'll have, you know! It's not my fault that it was never specified the height of the stairs..." You mumble. You can see Tom laugh slightly with a delighted twinkle in his eye as he looks at your pouting lips. He sure loves to see you suffer....

"I mean I could've carried Mrs up if her royal highness had asked me." Tom shrugs, laughing as you take the time to wack him on his upper arm with the back of your hand. "Hey hey hey Mrs don't hit our loving devoted husband! I did offer!"

"Yeah, when we were already up the stairs!"

"At least I offered at all! Besides, the office is just up here. You've stretched your ankle enough." Tom groans, grabbing you by the wrist this time to lead you. You grumble behind him as you look around at the corridor for any cameras and any extra security.

You spot three cameras already by the time you both get to the door, and tap Tom's hand to let him know. Thankfully you can't see anything else that would get in the way of the mission like a keypad or a retinal scanner. If you had to admit, it was sort of basic considering what information the man was storing and with how much money he had.

"You got it?" He pulls you in close to murmur against your ear. To those currently watching, it would've looked like a husband leaning in to whisper some romantic words to his wife.

"Of course." You simply murmur back, fiddling with your earring as you find the tiny switch and press it. It's amazing what kind of technology the intelligence lab can come up with, as to any other person looking at you they may have thought you were wearing simple ordinary earrings. But, in actuality they were specially designed in order to, when having the switch pressed, would expel a small burst of electromagnetic waves that'd disrupt the cameras feed, giving the organisation enough time to replace it with a fake copy. "Should be replaced now."

Usually, the organisation would have people on hand to hack into the cameras and change the feed. But apparently they couldn't do it within the time they got to the secure location and the time you'd be getting to the location. So for the time being, the earrings had to do.

"Then let's get inside. Stupid bastard doesn't even have a lock on the door." He laughs, stepping inside and closing it behind you. "He even left his safe in clear view of the room! What a twat!"

"Careful Tom!" You can't help but say, watching as he strides across the room with no possible caution for danger. "We don't know exactly what sort of security this man has on his safe!"

"Then I suppose we better figure it out then Mrs." He continues to smile, this time walking directly up to the safe as he puts on a pair of gloves you didn't know where he was even hiding them. "Seems pretty simple to me..."

Tom puts his head against the cool material of the box and slowly begins to turn the dial ever so slowly so he can hear the distinct clicks from within. Slowly you walk up behind him and watch him as he works, which gives you a view of something you had no idea you'd be interested in viewing.

From where you stood you could see Tom's long nimble hands work as they touch the dial and in a strange way stroke the surface of the safe as he moves his hand. If you had to be honest with yourself, it's sort of hypnotising.

"You know I can feel you staring at me right Mrs?" Tom's cocky voice suddenly says, breaking you from whatever strange spell Tom's fingers had on you. He even turns to stare at you as he says this, and you can't find yourself even in the position to lie to yourself that Tom's grin doesn't make you feel like you have butterflies swarming right now in your stomach.

"Just open the safe Agent Bennett." You snarl, admittedly the nickname feeling strange against your tongue.

"My my back to the origins are we missus? Then it's a good thing I've got the perfect nickname for you and I'll never be using anything less for my favourite girl!" Tom turns back to the last few digits of the safe, and you're left with a blush you pray this man does not see. He still calls you Mrs after seeing how annoyed it got you. Just how long would it take to shake off the fact you blushed due to his charm?

"Are you almost done?" You ask, attempting to distract yourself and hope it goes down quickly.

"If you let me listen I'd be done quicker." He quips, letting out a loud "Aha!" when the final distinct tick sounds, and he's able to turn the wheel and open the safe door with a self-satisfied smile. "And you thought to doubt me?"

"Shut it." You sigh, stepping out the way as Tom swings the door out towards the two of you, to reveal another door.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Tom groans, the sound of which you ignore as you walk up to it and see what it is you're dealing with. Unlike the security on the last door, this one is equipped with a key pad with numbers zero through nine, and no real indication on how long the sequence needed to be.

Yet that doesn't appear to stop you as you try putting in the birthday of the nanny, to which an annoyingly loud noise sounds out indicating a failed attempt. "Two attempts remain." A male robotic voice says.

"What did you do!?" Tom shouts, forcibly grabbing your upper arm to turn you around and look at him.

"I took my shot." You simply say, taking Tom's arm in your hand and shoving it away so hard he steps back once. "And don't you dare touch me like that again Tom."

To your relief, he doesn't seem in the mood to pick a fight with you as he just grumbles under his breath staring at the door keeping the both of you from your mission.

Admittedly, you both stay where you stand for a few minutes thinking about possible numbers the politician would hold dear to him. Anything to do with his wife is immediately off the table such as anniversaries or her birthday. You'd thought he'd maybe take advantage of the nanny more than he had already, but that seems to be just as effective as the wife. That's when you suddenly get reminded of something he's said to Tom early while he was halfway through a misogynistic ramble he'd been on.

'But trust me on this, only have a single son!'

"Tom," You begin to ask, turning to said man who at the sound of his name looks back at you recognising the thinking expression on your face. "What was that thing the bastard was saying about his son?"

You say this rhetorically as you step closer and closer to the keypad with a grin as you enter the birth date of the politician's only son and youngest child, and are welcomed with the same robotic voice as before. "Welcome monsieur, to the vault." It simply says, before this time Tom's voice breaks through the silence.

"Fucking smarty pants!" He says as he moves in front of you. At first you think this is just another insult, but then you see the way his face is actually lit up in pride and realise quickly he's actually proud of you. "Knew you could do this Mrs!"

"Really?" You can't help but ask, watching as his face quickly turns serious as he looks at you. It's strange.

"Of course. You're smart, you are. More smarter than I could ever be. I mean, you actually listened to the French bastard while he was talking to us."

"You weren't?"

"No. I was just imagining my fists pummelling into his face till he swallows his own teeth and is forced to be put on life support in some shitty hospital that without him knowing bleeds his money dry as he fights for his life." He admits, watching you closely as you blink in surprise at the level of violence this man in front of you is willing to express.

"Damn... he must've pissed you off good Tom." You try to make the mood lighter, but still Tom's face stays oddly serious and calm.

"Of course he did. No one should get to talk about you like that in front of you, or even away from you, and get to smile like that ever again. Now let's get into this vault thing." Fuck. Here comes the blush and the feral butterflies in the stomach. A double whammy...

"Y-yeah lets!" You quickly say, standing close behind Tom as he opens the door and thankfully this time not revealing another door, but instead revealing a large room filled with a variety of things that would no doubt add up to millions, possibly even ranging into a billion pounds.

"Who even needs this?" Tom's voice suddenly rings out. You turn to the direction of where his voice came from, and begin to laugh hard when you see exactly what Tom is so confused by. A large bottle of what looked like it used to hold port, but now holds a deep amber coloured liquid that took you a second to realise what it is as well as some other bits floating about.

Agent Tom Bennett is holding in his hands a witches' bottle. AKA, a bottle filled with some random person's piss, toe nails, hair and other various bodily things.

You must've made him nervous as for the first time you think since the mission started he says your name in a meek manner. "What am I holding..."

"You, you're holding some poor person's piss!" You laugh, practically wheezing with no consideration for noise levels as you watch Tom's face contort into one of pure disgust and horror. He manages to put it down as gently as a man who just discovered he's holding a bottle of piss can be, yet it still manages to make you laugh so hard you almost fall over.

"That's fucking disgusting!" The poor man shouts, staring at the offending item with deeply furrowed eyebrows and hateful eyes. "Why the fuck would anyone want that?!"

"I dunno. People used to make them in order to draw in and trap harmful intentions directed at their owners like evil spirits or counteract witches spells. It's sort of cool, when you get past the fact that it's basically just piss and nails and other bodily stuff in a jar."

"Still fucking disgusting. Let's just find this stupid hard drive..." He grumbles, rubbing the hand that touched the bottle on his suit.

You continue to giggle behind Tom as you follow him through the assortment of items. By the looks of it, basically all of it has been organised into sort of sections, making the look for the area with the electronics much easier for the two of you.

After some time looking through some boxes of various things, you find a hard drive labelled with the dangerous info the politician was storing. You'll be honest, it almost felt too easy finding it.

"That's it?" You hear Tom comment from behind as you turn around to face him with the device within your pointing finger and thumb.

"That's it." You shrug, stepping forward to adjust Tom's suit jacket so you can get to the small inside pocket and place the device inside it. It's a little bigger than what was expected, but it still fits just fine within its containment.

"Are we done now," Tom starts to murmur, making you realise the position you were in. You were standing barely a breath away from him, still holding his jacket lapel with your hands keeping him close. You swear you can feel his breath fan against your face, your own face though being pulled straight out of your lungs when you for certain feel his hands slowly move to touch your waist. "I was beginning to enjoy my time with you. Maybe we can fit in a dance before we leave, huh missus?"

You can barely find yourself able to speak as you're frozen where you stand. You can barely manage to nod as you can only find yourself praying for your life that the blush on your face isn't as noticeable as you feel it being.

"Y-yeah." You finally manage to strain out, not even able to look at him as you try to focus on instead of his face a small stain near his chest pocket. Yet it seems Tom has other plans, as he removes one of the hands from your waist to your chin, which he uses only two of his fingers to gently move your head up and force you to look at him eye to eye.

You feel your eyes drawn upwards to look at his face, yet even that action doesn’t last long as you suddenly find yourself staring at his lips while he moistens them with his tongue. They’re a pretty shade of pink, and under the harsh light overhead you can swear you find them glistening slightly.

You murmur Tom's name under your breath lightly, and your eyes close as you feel his hands curl tightly around your body with a sense of possessiveness you never thought you’d get from him.

As you begin to lean closer, feeling his warm breath slowly cause goosebumps to raise all along the length of your arms, you can feel your eyes slowly close as you begin to wonder how this situation has occurred, and why the hell does it feel so right to do?

That is however, till you hear faint footsteps that sound like they're coming closer.

"Do you hear that?" You murmur as you open your eyes slightly to look at Tom, who to your slight amusement is still stuck within the moment. His eyes are still closed, and his mouth slightly puckered as he still tries to inch himself closer and closer.

"I didn't hear anything." He quickly says, not opening his eyes or anything. "Just get over here so I can-"

"They're over here!" A voice shouts in the distance, finally forcing Tom to accept the moment is over, and open his eyes to see your 'i told you so' expression.

Tom grumbles some incoherent words under his breath as he takes his gun out from his hidden inner pocket before turning to you. "Don't think this is over missus." He simply says, before turning to the direction of where the shouting came from.

You yourself just roll your eyes as you retrieve your own pistol still firmly strapped against your leg, and follow behind Tom as you both try to get some cover underneath all the ornaments and objects placed amongst each other.

There is only one main walkway that is designed to showcase every item as you walk around the room, but that doesn't mean people can't make their paths, as demonstrated when Tom walks head first through a rack of old animal fur coats. As the two of you begin to get closer to the exit, the sound of talking gets louder the more steps you take, and you both duck for cover behind a huge set of antique chests of drawers.

"Do we know how many are here?" You hear one of them say, followed by a symphony of guns being reloaded one after another. By the sounds of the guns alone, there's got to be around an even 10 guards ready to shoot you if given the command.

"The boss says can't be more than two." Another says soon after, most likely the squad leader if he's the one answering the questions. "They can't be too far, so fan out and shoot only to disarm or incapacitate. The boss wants us to question them to find out who they work for."

You and Tom from where you both are hiding look at each other in mutual understanding as the promise makes its way through both your heads at the same time. Don't leave the other behind no matter what.

Even though you had both gone through with missions that slipped last second and been tortured by one too many people, even though you both knew the other could handle it the silent declaration still happened without a shadow of a doubt. Neither Tom nor you could bear to think of the other person being hurt by this French asshole.

"Any idea how to dodge these French pricks?" Tom asks as he turns to you, much to your surprise.

"Huh... and here I thought that you'd be all ready to shoot first escape later. What's changed? Did you hit your head when I wasn't looking? Trip on some old Victorian teddy bear?" You can't help but laugh, watching Tom's face doesn't even turn to a simple smirk as he answers.

"Can't have my missus getting hurt. So have you got a plan or do we need to fall back onto the shoot first plan?"

You hate to admit it, but it's at that moment when you finally realise why it had felt so right to be in his arms. Somehow between the chaos of the mission and the short but sweet moments together, you'd fallen for the man worse than James Bond himself, Agent Tom Bennett.

"I think I can see the entrance door from here. The guards have started fanning out more in the middle of the room, which is their mistake thinking we'd still be cowering in the back corner. If we're silent and don't draw attention, then I think we can get out of the room without gunfire and any unnecessary attention. Got that?" You finally say, turning to him and watching as he nods his head in return to your question.

"Got it missus. Take the lead." He says, gesturing his hand in a random direction. You roll your eyes at the nickname but less due to annoyance, and more due to amusement that he still insists on using it even though by now, the disguises have long since crumpled away.

Still, you say nothing and just gesture for him to follow you, which he does in a heartbeat. You can hear the heavy footsteps of the guards in the distance but to your and Tom's relief they go quieter instead of louder, indicating that the group were still making their way to the back of the room.

You make your way through all manner of objects in an attempt to stay away from the main path that stays primarily visible most of the length of the way. You pass rugs, more furniture similar to those earlier sets of drawers, faberge eggs, and even coincidentally old stuffed toys.

Soon, the view of the office you had passed to sneak in came into view. It was so close. You could not tell if there were any guards on the outside which was good for the both of you, as it seems these guards were dumber than they looked.

You turned around to check that Tom had successfully followed behind you with all the twists and turns through the junk, only as you did so, you managed to catch just in time Toms shoulder banging into wobbly piece of display furniture, causing an expensive yet boring looking vase to come toppling down and smash against the hard floor.

"For fucks sake..." You mumble as shouts go off in the distance in chime with heavy footsteps that inch close and closer towards you both.

"Sorry!" Tom yells at you as he leaps up and begins firing like crazy in an attempt to get these guys before they get either of you. You have to sigh in defeat at the turn of events before you also begin to fire at these men with everything you got while also moving backwards towards the exit.

For a minute, all you could hear was gunshot after gunshot, mixed in with the sounds of the guards screaming in pain when either you or Tom managed to get one. But that all changed when you felt one of the last guards bullets burying itself within your shoulder, bringing you down hard against the floor with a surprised scream.

You can hear Tom yell out your name as the last rounds of gunfire go off. As soon as the sounds stop you feel Tom's arms enveloping you so he can pull you closer and assess the wound.

"Shit shit shit you ok missus? Where'd it hit?" Tom begs, his voice frantic as he sees the hole in you gushing blood by the second. He doesn't know if the bullet has done any more damage other than the initial tissue damage, such as bone fracture or nerve injury. If Tom doesn't get you help soon, there's a chance with those nasty ass bullets you could get an infection within the wound.

"Come on darling let's get you safe." Tom says as he takes off his suit jacket and rips off a large section of the back to create a make-shift sling for you. As soon as he deems it tight enough, Tom pulls you up and places your uninjured arm around his neck so he can support you and make sure you leave this place by his side.

Every few steps Tom takes with you on his arm he is watching the surroundings carefully with his gun in easy reach. The previous gunfire must have alerted someone else about their presence, but to Tom's surprise there was no one. No other guards springing out of walls with their guns ready to blow his and your brains out. No evil bad guy with a pathetic monologue on the tip of his tongue. It's as if they were letting him and you walk out of there free with just the gunshot wound. How the hell could it be that simple?

"You still awake missus?" Tom asks, his lips crooked as he attempts to smile for you to show nothing could be worse, even though it easily most definitely could've been. You manage to groan a small response in return, and even if he couldn't make out a single syllable, he'd recognise that smart mouthed sass of yours anywhere. "Yeah yeah I hear you... There's a car out front we can get away in fitted with medical supplies for yourself. Why we don’t get some small basic med kit to keep on hand in case this shit happens, I've got no clue..."

The mission was not supposed to go like this. It was supposed to end great. With the hard drive in the hands of the supervisor and Tom and you having dinner somewhere. Not with you leaning on him for the support while you practically bled out all because of him.

Tom can hear the blood droplets hitting the once pristine white flooring of the hallway, and each soft individual splatter sends a shiver up his spine. He has no idea why he cares so deeply about you right now, and why even the thought of you being permanently injured sends pure nausea down to his stomach. Yet he pushes the thought process down as he makes sure you don't end up losing consciousness right now. The hallway cameras should still be under the control of the organisations tech people by now, but Tom doesn't want to risk chances by lingering when he could be getting you to safety as quickly as possible.

So while making sure your body is fully supported, Tom leads you down the stairs and the other hallways to a more discreet exit away from the crowds of people still there in the ball. The music from before had been so loud that he doubts they heard anything. Plus, they were no doubt distracted with the copious amounts of alcohol they'd all been ingesting in the last couple hours.

The camera's tom spots are all pointed away from the two of you as you make your way through the halls. The blood coming from your shoulder has slowly begun to lessen, yet still with the way your shoulder and the surrounding areas were beginning to go numb, you still could feel the faint trails trickling down your legs and hear the odd droplets fall to the floor.

"Almost there missus almost there..." Tom mutters, seeing the last door separating you both to the outside world. When he first tried to get through, the door stayed firmly shut even after Tom attempted to slam his body against it in an attempt to loosen it.

"Fucks sake!" He groans, looking down and seeing the simple key lock needed to escape. "Can afford to purchase all that useless shit and keep it behind an electronic keypad but can't be bothered to purchase an electronic lock for the front door..."

Tom carefully places you upright against the closest wall so he can kneel down and get a closer look at the problem. It's just a simple titan key needed, but seeing at how simple it is and where the door leads, it's probably in the pocket of one of the many waiters walking around, and Tom didn't exactly have the time to ask all of them which person had the key. So he did something he never thought he'd be putting to use in real life. Tom grabbed a bobby pin from within your hair, and stuck it within the key lock.

It takes him an embarrassingly long time to get it right, but eventually after a couple hundred swears and scratches on his fingers, the door opens with a soft click and a small 'hurrah' from Tom himself. He even turns to you with a victorious smirk, which you return with another exhausted groan and even an exaggerated eye roll even though you begin to feel lightheaded with all the blood that's come out of you within the hour.

"Let's get you help missus."Tom grunts as he picks you back up from the floor and directs you to the direction of a car parked not too far from the entrance. It's smaller than the original limousine that brought you to the mission in the first place, but you can't help but faintly smile when you see the familiar face of Webster watching you from the driver's seat.

As soon as Tom sets you down inside the vehicle, you feel your body slump in the most unladylike of ways against the soft exterior of the car's seats and let out a sigh of relief that it's all over.

"I trust you know about removing a bullet Agent Bennett." Webster's voice rings out through the speaker as you feel the engine begin and the car drives off.

"Sarcastic bastard..." Tom murmurs as he swiftly takes the med kit from underneath the seat and opens it to take out the tweezers and the gauze and place them beside you on the seat. Next, he removes the piece of his suit he had used to originally stem the blood flow of the wound and rips your dress slightly so he can see your shoulder better without it interfering. You'll no doubt be pissed later, but he'll just send it to Stan later to get fixed.

With the barrier gone, blood flows more steadily than what it was a few minutes ago, but it doesn't matter right now as much as it does to make sure the bullet comes out fully. "This is going to hurt." Tom simply warns before he picks up the tweezers and begins to poke and prod his way inside of the wound.

It truly breaks his heart to hear your screams of pain, but he needs to persist and find this damn bullet. Thankfully it doesn't take too long, as with the combined layer of your dress and bra it managed to not let it go in as deep as it could've. So soon enough as the pesky bugger is soon plucked out and thrown somewhere within the car space while Tom quickly takes the gauze and wraps the wound tight.

"Feeling better missus?" He asks, forcing you to look at him as your eyes slowly regain a look of focus you minutes ago were losing fast.

"Yeah..." You manage to say, wincing as you move your shoulder slightly. "I'm alright. Thanks, for not leaving me in there."

"I'd never." Tom quickly says, shaking his head and furrowing his brows to further his point. "And besides, now that I know you're ok, I can continue where we left off."

"What do you mea-"

Before you can begin to question what Tom is trying to say, his lips capture yours, and your heart feels as though it stops mid-beat between your chest. You have no thoughts running through your head right now. Your focus being only on the calming warmth of Tom's lips and the faint taste of mint.

His hands cup your waist and face delicately as if you were made of pure glass. Yet as much as you enjoyed his tender touch, you didn't want Tom to think of you as delicate. You wanted him to hold you with the knowledge you could never crumble from him. For him to know he could never hurt you.

You never want this strange feeling of right to end, but when it eventually does, with the two of you both silently attempting to catch your breaths.

"Was that good?" Tom eventually asks, staring at you with hopeful eyes. "If I made you like uncomfortable or anything I'm sorry-"

"You didn't." You say with a smile as you lean forward to peck his lips again in a sweet kiss in reassurance. As you pull away, you can see Tom's lips turned in a bashful smile and his cheeks heat up to a light pink. If you were being honest, it was really fucking adorable. Words you never thought you'd ever say about agent Bennett in your life.

"Good." He simply says, focusing on the curves of your face and trying not to think about how his face is probably bright red due to embarrassment from being so soft with a girl. "Now let's get back to the hotel."

"Why are we going back to the hotel?" You ask, confusion in your voice.

"Cause I want you to get dressed up before I take you out for a date tonight. So shower, take as much time as you need to get ready, cause I want to make this as special for you as I ever could for you. Tell me your favourite food so I can book the best restaurant available for you. I'm sure Webster can deliver the hard drive when he returns the car."

"I can indeed sir." Webster says through the intercom, scaring the two of you as you both jump slightly in your seats. "Just pop it through the slot and I can take it straight to the supervisor no issue."

"Thank you Webster!" Tom grins as he takes the device and puts it through to the other side.

Webster takes it in his hand and places it within his own suit jacket pocket. His eyes are focused on the road, but he can't deny the warmth in his chest when he sees the two of you giggling and smiling between yourself in the backseat like a couple of lovesick teenagers. He drops you and Tom at the hotel as told, but he can't stop himself from watching the two of you enter the hotel together.

As soon as Tom had stepped out before you, he made sure to reach for your hand and help you step out like a proper gentleman, and the entire walk up to the hotel doors none of you made the step to let go.

Webster watched the two of you with a smile, as he thinks to himself, he has never seen a pair of people so in love with each other.

#tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #world on fire #world on fire fanfiction #ewan mitchell #Ewan Mitchell x reader #my works #my 1k special #spy!au #tom bennett/reader #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett imagine #ewan mitchell/reader #fanfiction #spy #spy au

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olderthannetfic · 18 hours ago

Note

since OTNF has a book and I assume some percentage of readers also are publishing original queer stories I wanted to ask people how do you market them practically?

My thing is that I already have a revised draft (for context it's a simple M/M contemporary romance). I didn't hire an editor to look through it but I'm considering it too. Getting the cover and things like that are also on to do list but the thing that keeps getting my skin to crawl is the "start a tiktok page and use ao3 tags to market your queer book" part that everyone keeps saying.

I assume because it works for them but I don't think I'm built for tiktok and being there as an author.

Now I know this sounds like a cop out. That I'm just complaining (maybe I am) and the reality of the matter is that I have to start doing something in that department given I have no social media presence at all (not on my personal accounts, and I don't wanna tie this down to my fandom accounts).

And every time I open advice youtube channels or blog posts it's all the same. Post on social media 10 times and week. Market yourself without actually marketing yourself. Be consistent etc etc.

I guess I wanna know how other people are doing it? Or do you have resources that help with this? Are there resources that help with this? That are not just parroting the same 5 advices and in the end try to sell you a marketing course?

I haven't tried advertising on tiktok. I don't know how much things have changed in the last few years, but it used to be that a lot of the paying customer base was older and hanging out in Facebook groups for "m/m romance".

I've been too busy in my personal life and with trying to get a few books under my belt to even really try to advertise. When I do (probably when I finally get this next book out), I don't think tiktok would be my choice.

One thing I'm more invested in is building a BL index so we can get away from amazon and especially from paying amazon to advertise. I think that kind of thing (not ratings, not reviews) is the future for us, both as writers and readers.

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nostalgiacountdown · 2 days ago

Text

Onodera Ritsu no Baai No.39 Summary

Hi there! This chapter released last year on December 27th! I’ve wanted to do this style of post for quite a few magazine issues, but this is the first time I’m getting around to actually doing it. I encourage you to buy Emerald magazine, which Sekaiichi Hatsukoi releases in three times a year, as well as the volume releases when possible. Summary below!

The chapter begins with Ritsu leaving Takano’s apartment the morning after the events of the last chapter, promising to come back after he’s showered and gotten dressed at his own apartment to eat breakfast with Takano.

The whole time that Ritsu is on his own in his apartment he’s having an internal monologue about his now boyfriend that keeps switching between sweet and hilarious.

While he’s in the shower, he reflects on recent events and eventually he looks at himself in the mirror, thinking back to the previous night when he sees himself covered in hickies from the neck down. (Oddly enough, these are gone by the end of the chapter despite it being the evening of the same day.) He thinks about how good the sex was the night before and how he could feel Takano’s excitement through his body. Thinking about it makes him all fuzzy and happy.

When he exits the shower, he asks himself if he and Takano are really dating now, and he concludes that their relationship has upgraded from their weird sex friend status to proper lovers. But thinking about the word “lover” gets him all hung up on the concept of dating in general. What do lovers do? How is he supposed to act from now on? He thinks back to Ch.18 when Takano said that he just wanted to be lovey-dovey/flirt with him all the time. Ritsu still doesn’t understand that line of thought months later, so being Ritsu, he sits down on the couch once he’s dressed and pulls out his phone to look up what “lovey-dovey”/flirting/whatever really means.

“Commuting together? Eating together? …Huh? We already do that, don’t we? No, no, there has to be something more to it. Giving each other presents? Going on dates? Going on overnight trips together? Sex? …Were we already dating??”

Other than the out-of-whack order in which things played out, Ritsu is realizing that they have a fairly normal relationship. He doesn’t know where to start or how to act though now that the label they're putting on it has changed.

As he sits there continuing to spiral, Hatori sends him a text. Chiaki finished his manuscript a couple of days before his extended deadline and he wants Ritsu to come in early to help him check it because it’s suspicious that it’s supposedly done. He gives up on breakfast with Takano (not bothering to actually contact Takano to say what he’s doing before he’s left the building, instead waiting to do so until he’s already out of there, bad Ritsu 😭) and heads into work.

As expected, there’s issues with the manuscript. It’s missing multiple pages. Hatori is apologetic for having Ritsu come in ahead of him to check something that wasn’t even complete, but Ritsu assures him that it’s fine. Next Kisa comes in, and then right after him is Takano, who gives a look to Ritsu that conveys that he’s not thrilled about how their day started. Although from the outside he’s acting pretty normal, Ritsu can tell that Takano is unhappy with him, only talking to him for necessary work tasks. Ritsu is still ruminating on the concept of being lovers and how he still doesn’t get it, trying to tell himself that this couldn’t be helped because they’re towards the end of the editing cycle and things are busy.

Later during the work day, Ritsu leaves his desk to go grab a drink from one of the vending machines. While by the elevator, he overhears people from other departments talking about Kurusu (the girl who confessed to Takano last chapter) and how she had come to work with bloodshot eyes as if she’d been crying. She was playing it off as hay fever, but the people gossiping could tell she was lying. Ritsu listens in until the elevator he’s waiting for arrives, and he thinks to himself how because Takano loves him and accepted his confession that she’ll never be able to be with Takano. The whole thing makes him feel awkward, but he couldn’t give up on Takano.

The next page cuts to the vending machine, and right as Ritsu goes to choose his drink, Takano swoops in and presses the button for him. Ritsu scolds him, asking him just how many times he’s going to do something like this. (I only remember him doing it on screen once in No.5) Takano still doesn’t say anything to him though, just handing him the bottle that fell from the vending machine. Ritsu starts to worry that Takano is really upset with him. He wishes that Takano would just tell him with words what was wrong, that he wouldn’t understand unless he told him. (Callback to No.21)

His thoughts shift to how it was bad of him to do what he did this morning, but just then what appears to be a high school couple in uniform walk past the front windows of the office. Ritsu can’t help but notice how natural the two of them look holding hands and smiling. (Callback to 4.5) At some point he starting thinking that things would change if they were dating, but he’s wondering if he set his expectations too high.

Cut to the end of the workday, and Takano approaches Ritsu as he exits the office building, calling out to him. Ritsu is stiff at first, bowing and telling Takano he did good today and that he’d be leaving now, but Takano just said they’d be walking home together. Ritsu is surprised, but doesn’t fight it, even agreeing when Takano asks if they can walk awhile longer today to the second nearest station instead.

There’s a shot of them surrounded by the sounds the accompany a passing train that’s reminiscent of the flashback at the end of No.27. Ritsu thinks things are awkward until Takano finally speaks up. He says something along the lines of how he doesn’t really know how to go about this whole lovey-dovey thing. Ritsu is shocked, but admits he’s in the same boat. Takano thinks it’s funny and remarks they really haven’t made any progress in terms of relationship experience in the past decade. Ritsu objects to this, saying that he’s heard from certain sources that Takano had many partners during their time apart. Takano clarifies that even if that was the case, he hadn’t had the desire to flirt/be lovey-dovey with any of those past partners. He’d only ever felt that kind of urge when it came to Ritsu. As he keeps talking, Ritsu finds himself realizing that they really (finally lol) are on the same page when it comes to their relationship.

Takano then demands that Ritsu give him some lovey-dovey scenarios as the shoujo manga editor that he is and he begrudgingly obliges. He talks about how they could commute to work together, how they could eat meals together, and how they could go on dates together. When Takano asks where they should go on dates, Ritsu lists all sorts of things: traveling, shopping, going to the movies, zoos, aquariums, amusement parks, museums, and yes, even the library. (He seems hesitant to mention it when he adds that last one.) But at the end of his list, Ritsu admits that it doesn’t really matter where they go, so long as it’s together. (Callback to something Takano said to him in No.14) Takano smiles when he says that, saying that they should absolutely do all of those things.

Right as they finish this leg of their walk, they arrive at a familiar shrine. It’s the same shrine that Takano cut through back in March on Ritsu’s birthday in No.13 to accompany him home when he was too drunk to get home on his own. He had always wanted to come here together when Ritsu was sober. Recalling the day, he says to himself that the cherry blossoms were beautiful. (The panel under those words is a younger version of themselves, Oda following closely behind Saga in their high school uniforms.)

This conversation leads to Ritsu bringing up Takano’s birthday, and he’s embarrassed about the gift that he gave him back then. The pinky promise they make happens right after the birthday mention, so it seems related to celebrating both of their birthdays properly from now on since they’re dating so long as work doesn’t interfere. The pinky promise turns into holding hands, and then it cuts to them still holding hands, having arrived at the front doors of their apartments.

Takano asks which apartment they should go into, but he ends up wanting to go to Ritsu’s so he can use the spare key he has for it now. (This is the first time we’ve seen him use a key of his own to get into Ritsu’s apartment. It seems he really did receive one between No.35 and 36 when he was staying at Ritsu’s apartment temporarily, although it was never directly shown.) A lot of emphasis is put on this scene, with a racing heartbeat sound effect playing throughout until Takano finally unlocks Ritsu’s front door. He tugs Ritsu in behind him and immediately starts kissing him and working on removing his clothes.

The next page cuts to them in the bathroom naked together. They’re sitting on the ledge of Ritsu’s bathtub touching each other. They’re kissing, Takano is playing with Ritsu’s nipples, and Ritsu is rubbing both of their dicks together with his hands.

Takano decides to pull away, kneeling on the floor in front of the tub to give Ritsu a blowjob. Ritsu was close already and it didn’t take long at all for him to cum. Takano says that it’s Ritsu’s turn now, and they swap places, Ritsu now kneeling on the floor in front of Takano.

Ritsu starts giving Takano a blowjob, but there’s a lot more going on here lol. Takano is tweaking each of Ritsu’s nipples and also using his feet to give him a foot job. (I’m not sure how he’s balancing, it’s weird lol) It’s going well enough until Ritsu looks up at Takano with his mouth still full and both his hands around Takano’s dick, saying a weirdly muffled version of Takano-san that comes out more like “Taka…no-hya…” because his mouth is pretty busy.

Ritsu calling his name so erotically combined with sight of his with half-lidded eyes, blush all over his face, and his mouth somewhat open with his tongue covered in pre-cum seems to be too much for Takano, because right after he’s cumming like crazy. Ritsu can’t pull back fast enough, and Takano’s cum is shot all over his face, hair, neck, chin, and chest. Calling back to the time Ritsu gave Takano a facial in No.24, Ritsu says that they’re even now, following that up by asking if it felt good.

Takano says that it did, because how else would he have cum like that? Ritsu is happy, fist pumping and says something along the lines of “I did it…I’m so glad…” (This is the first time we’ve seen Ritsu fully get Takano off with a blowjob on screen before. His blowjob training arc is coming to an end 10 real life years later lol.)

The sight of Ritsu being so happy that he was able to make him feel good gives Takano cuteness aggression and he blushes a bit. He swears and grabs Ritsu off of the floor and drags him onto his feet, kissing him. Moments later he pulls them backwards until they’re falling into the bathtub together. He gives Ritsu the option to stop now, or go all the way. Ritsu says that he’s unfair, and they continue having sex, now in the tub. Ritsu is on Takano’s lap, but I’m not really sure who’s doing most of the movement. I feel like it could be argued that he’s riding Takano here, but there’s not many pages to clarify that. 😂

On the last page of the sex scene, Takano says he loves Ritsu twice, the second time receiving a “…me too...” in response. 💖

On the very last page of the chapter, they’re cuddled up together in the bathtub, still talking about the concept of lovey-dovey. In a callback to No.19, Takano says that it’s a difficult concept. But Takano basically says that it’s okay since it’s only their first day together, and they have time to figure things out together now that they're dating. 😇

The End ✌️

Sekaiichi Hatsukoi’s next chapter will be released at the end of April, the contents of the chapter unconfirmed at the moment! Takano and Ritsu are on the next magazine issue’s front cover, but that unfortunately doesn’t confirm anything yet lol. Stay tuned for more info. 💖

#sekaiichi hatsukoi #sekai ichi hatsukoi #sih #sih spoilers #spoilers #onodera ritsu #takano masamune #summary

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adviceformefromme · 2 days ago

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New year, same you. Those resolutions didn’t get you up in the morning or to working on the business like you promised yourself… But if you woke up today you still have a purpose within you to be fulfilled. The problem with grand change is that it’s overwhelming and your inner voice will always try to keep you in safety and comfort. It doesn’t want you to grow, because growth means unknown and thats scary. So if (like me) you are trying to launch something new this year, you have the vision, but somehow it feels out of reach.. Just start small. Do that one post on your business page. Just one. If you can’t do those 10km daily steps like you promised do 1km daily. Down the road and back. You’re building habits. Allowing the action to become normal, no matter how small it is. So set the bar really low and celebrate those wins, I started a win list last year in my iPhone notes, everyday I added my wins for the day, and it actually created momentum. It reminded me I am making progress and from that place, I feel good, and move one step forward. Don’t guilt yourself into doing things, don’t mentally attack yourself because you broke your own promise. It’s a new day, you get the opportunity to try again, so give yourself grace and take your time as you step into your elevated version. Rome was not built in a day, brick by brick is how you make lasting change.

#levelupjourney #manifestyourreality #lawofattraction #levelup #manifesting #growthmindset #manifestingmindset #levelup confidence lawofattraction powerofthemind #manifest #new year 2025 #2025 motivate #motivateyourself #motivatedmindset #feeling motivated #stay motivated #atomic habits

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greenplumbboblover · 2 days ago

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Lyra's Yearly Recap - 2024/2025

I actually forgot I did this quite a few times the last few years, but this year I wanted to look back of what I accomplished from my resolution list.

And then see if In can make some of that true this year! (and what else to add!)

2023/2024 Resolutions:

(See: https://greenplumbboblover.tumblr.com/post/738067930777059328/accomplishments-of-2023)

I'm not answering all of them, but I do want to set some record straight!

Finishing LISISV

Haha... yeah I misjudged that completely lol. I got to a point where I lost complete motivation on... well, everything. I had no motivation for personal projects, CC making (one of the reasons why some of my mods in this year were so riddled with bugs), playing games... hell, even interacting with others. Now you could call that depression, but I wasn't showing those symptoms properly either. I found myself in a weird place where, on the one hand, I felt guilty of that I just couldn't do those stuff that I wanted to do, and that then causing me to feel super overwhelmed... yet telling myself constantly that "adults don't feel overwhelmed on those tiny silly things!". I was pretty mean to myself this year, honestly... But all that sad stuff aside! I have made some personal changes in December that are helping me a lot already, before getting also some mental help for other things. But I'll save you from those details. 😉 --------------- The second thing that didn't help was that I would at some point feel a HUGE disconnect with the characters I had in my head and my actual writing. I would make impulsive thoughts, without realistically navigating how it would work out in the future. I would introduce characters, without really giving it a thought on how I wanted them to come across... how to fully tackle certain cases. So! I spent a majority of that time researching a lot of the ways writers actually attempt those issues and solving those. I was hoping to make a post to help others with that soon, since It's really awesome insight at times! And... then there was the whole posing. But I resolved that with the Pose Add-on IMO already! Chapter 10 however, is actually taking a long time because I do struggle a lot with the fact that I consider it my "old" way of writing, and I REALLY want to move on to my 'new' ideas and style. So the willpower is simply not always there.

LISIV PLANS:

Alright, now that we have all that out of the way, here are some of my plans for this year and the story: Splitting certain stories into sub-stories: My current personal problem I have with the story, is that there are some really cool characters, but with the current format, I can't explore their characters as intensely as I'd like to. I also know that I love to jump back and forth from one story to another.

How that would look like is:

Morgana will have her own "Sub-story"

I am pondering of doing the same for Dustin and Zelda.

We travel 5 years into the future, where I want to do more with Mortimer and Bella. But also the Landgraabs and the Alto's.

I am also thinking of making a separate (short) storyline for Gunther and Lolita. The moment I was making the flashbacks, I really have been wanting to write more about it.

Same as 4, but maybe for some other townies! They will be short, but I think it can be fun! :)

Figuring out what to do with Interests & Hobbies

The infamous mod of being delayed... again :p.

I guess you all are probably exhausted of me hearing "no wait! I will finish it!", and then another mod gets released, and another year passes... and personally I have that same thought.

So I am putting the mod entirely on ice. There might not be a chance that I even finish it ever.

However I do want to add something here:

I will be working much more with Stories be told

I am going to be making more hobby items in return! I have been craving that "small but cool" modding projects a lot the past few years. I just like to be ambitious and unrealistic I guess, lol

However, I will be modding WAY less this year due to other factors.

My 2024/2025 Resolutions:

I think I've mentioned this now a lot of times, but never properly done it...

Wanting to write more. Whether it's for the sims, or even personal!

Wanting to get more into 3D modeling. Mostly for myself, but here and there I could probably release some CC pieces! :)

Keep up with Simblr.cc of course!

Post more of my thoughts on LISISV and Character stuff (@nocturnalazure suggested this a while back, but the more I thought of it, the more fun it sounds!)

Doing more Sims photoshoots!

Either way! May this year be your year! Where issues get resolutions and love is all around you.💖

#text post #txt #txt post #about #2025 resolutions #new years resolution #new year resolutions #2025 #year

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thedawningofthehour · 21 hours ago

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hello! I‘m in love with your work!

How would the relationship between Draxum’s mother and Galois be, if they had met?

Also (a bit unrelated) we know Draxum would kill anyone who physically/mentally abused or assaulted Galois! But if Draxum was made to choose, between either Galois regaining his memory (and remembering he is Donatello) or Galois getting badly hurt (or abused/csa‘d) what would he choose?

Hi! Thank you for saying so! I'm in love with everyone who gives me attention. :)

Well, leaving out the fact that Galois just wouldn't exist if the deaths of Draxum's parents and sister hadn't happened as they did. And that his parents would be quite old by this point, probably around a thousand, so it's not out of the question that they would have died of old age by now.

But ignoring both those factors, she would have loved him. Basically all the chaos and bad influence of Bella, but completely unhindered by Draxum because she doesn't care if this is his house, she's his mother and she's the boss. She would absolutely encourage him to be his most chaotic self and drive his father crazy. And he'd find her very liberating, with the strict upbringing he would have had. They'd conspire together to set Drax up with Tigerclaw.

Honestly, that holds true for all the boys, and for Bella and Pax too to an extent. Their parents weren't strict, but I see Draxum's mother as being almost manic at times so she would have thrived in her 'crazy grandma' role. His father was much more reserved-he actually would have bonded with Galois more, now that I'm thinking about it, with a lot of their interests Gale now shares with Draxum. Now I'm thinking about Draxum taking care of plants with his son and thinking about how he used to do that with his own father not that long ago.

And, oof, that's a tough one.

Right now, I'd say Draxum would think he'd choose the latter. He'd do anything to keep his son from being hurt, of course, but if he was-Draxum's a healer, he can fix any physical injury and kill whoever's responsible, and then he can be there for his son and help him heal in any way he needs. Emotionally, physically, he'll be whatever Galois needs. They can come back from that. His son would be okay.

If Gale reverts to Donatello, then his son is basically dead. Draxum has no way of repeating the procedure he used, even if he found someone capable of performing the ritual he'd also have to cover up much of the last year and a half, overwrite a lot of the memories that were meddled with the first time, and every complication just drives up the chances of something going wrong and completely frying him. Not to mention Draxum did hurt him, very badly, and if he remembers what Draxum did to him then it's the same mental trauma he'd be getting in the other scenario, with the added emotional baggage of knowing it was Draxum who did it to him. And at the end of it all Draxum wouldn't be able to help, the very memory of Draxum ever helping him would turn to poison in Donnie's head. Gale learning what Draxum did to him would absolutely destroy him, and Draxum knows that. He doesn't want to lose his son, and he also doesn't want his son to have to live with that. It can't hurt him if he never finds out.

I can't really go into what his answer would be post Donnie-return without major spoilers, but Draxum is really going to have to confront how he compartmentalized Galois away from Donatello and how much of his decisions were made out of selfishness. Goatman is going to be doing a lot of thinking in Book 4.

#doth asks #baron draxum #donatello

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grapenehifics · 2 days ago

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JELLYFISH AU. I love jellyfish ;____;

@willameena asked for this one, too! So, this is a little bit based on a real study I was reading an article about, but it's only going to touch on the science because I am uhhhh not a marine biologist.

Obi-Wan, though, IS a marine biologist, and he's studying jellies and their relationship to ocean currents. His grant application is falling apart when his co-author gets sick and drops out at the last minute until his boss is like OMG DO I HAVE THE ANSWER FOR YOU, and it's this bioengineering PhD candidate who has no ocean experience but his lab assignment fell through and he's a whiz at engineering and programming and design and he and Obi-Wan are going to partner up and design little 3D printed antenna hats for the jellies to monitor their environment and it's going to solve both their problems and be great for everyone.

...except Obi-Wan doesn't want to partner with Anakin, because he and Anakin have been in a relationship for years, live together, and are engaged to be married. It's a massive conflict of interest and imbalance of power for them to be working together, possibly even for Anakin to be getting his PhD at the university where Obi-Wan teaches, and they'd hoped being in different departments would be enough but now they're stuck in the same lab coauthoring a study but can't say WHY it's a problem, and Anakin's got his dissertation on the line and Obi-Wan would lose his tenure for academic misconduct if anyone found out.

But of course they're not going to break up! No, they just pretend to meet for the first time and drive home separately (so no one sees them sharing a car) and spend their evenings at home practicing arguments to have in front of their coworkers the next day so no one suspects anything. What could possibly go wrong??

(Maybe this time I'll remember to actually link the post that started all this, lol. Drop an ask about any of my many, many WIPs here!)

#obikin #jellyfish au #I promisr it will have a better title later haha

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lonewolflupe · 2 days ago

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I've already said this in my comment, but thank you again for your super extensive replies to my heap of questions! I love that you met some people who want you to join their club, how cool is that?? I've actually never really thought about doing cosplay myself, I'm afraid I'm way too shy for it, but all this sounds so amazing!! I really hope you'll find a nice place as part of their club, in between all those crazy (in a good way) fans!

(I'm also crying over the Boba candy bucket, I love it so much <3)

It's actually my boyfriend who's into 3D-printing (all for fun and our own usage). I'm far from as technical as he is, but I do know a little bit about it from everything he tells me (and I asked him a few things so I could toss it into my reply)! We bought our first house together last year and one of the smaller spare rooms is now officially his 3D-printing room. We can close the door and he's working on a proper ventilation system in there, so we don't have to worry about any unhealthy vapours (or at least, worry less). He's currently printing with a FDM printer (FLSUN V400), mostly with PLA but it can also print with ABS, TPU and ASA. He's been building his own printer with mostly self-printed parts, but ever since he got his FLSUN V400 a few months ago, he's been so content with it, he's not sure if he's gonna finish the other printer anymore. He also has a LCD resin printer (Anycubic Photon M3 Plus), but he hasn't printed with that one yet (he still has to finish the ventilation system in the room).

And thank you SO MUCH for writing down all the sources of your STL files! I'm currently not planning on doing cosplay myself (but of course, this could change in the future), but I am VERY interested in printing and painting those scaled-down-mini-helmets, I love them so much <3 AND THE LITTLE TECH HELMET FOR THE STRING OF LIGHTS I seriously came across an official string of lights with little Boba Fett helmets A FEW DAYS AGO and I thought, I need this but with clone helmets?? And the teeny Gregor bucket with the blue window tint looks AMAZING, holy nerfballs!!

Ahahahaha, I'm laughing at your VPL remark! I was into Warhammer years ago (before 3D-printing became a thing), and we said the exact same thing, only we called them 'mould lines'! (We always used needle files to file away those lines, which felt like taking forever; it most definitely wasn't my favourite part about mini figurines 😂) Dry brushing during the painting process on the other hand, is one of my favourite techniques!!

Thank you SO much for sharing your collected knowledge from your experience! Again, I'm currently not planning on doing any cosplay, but I do like my 'hobby' work to look good! It's still a mess at our house since the move, but when the place (and my head along with it) is clearer, I'm definitely gonna get back into painting! And I can't wait to start with some of those adorable teeny clone buckets!

Thanks again, I saved your post so I can refind it whenever I need it, and I really appreciate you taking so much time and effort to put all of this information together! Thank you so much!! <3

Since this response got out of hand, I'm giving it its' own post.

It's dangerous to ask a maker (artist?) about their processes @lonewolflupe @ulchabhangorm. But since you're curious, please accept my very first:

All of the pictured things were 3D printed by me on my FDM printer (Bambu Labs A1), including the teeny helmets. The non-helmet bits are pieces of Tech's armour. I'm currently building a Tech kit for 501st Legion approval. I "like" Crosshair and Scorch the most, but I am "most like" Tech. /sigh

I do! (Mostly) All of the armour parts of Archers' kit were 3D printed and finished by me on my FDM printer, with the exception of my pauldrons which were resin printed by someone else, but finished by me. I initially began making the kit for a Halloween costume, challenged by a coworker to a work-Halloween costume contest, but ended up meeting a couple vode from the Mando Mercs club (MMCC). I was invited (gently coerced?) to complete the kit to their standards and join the club. I'm in that process now, but still have a few things to finish before I gain Official Member status. 🙂

I made a lil' Boba candy bucket!!

3. I mostly print with PLA+. I can print with PETG, ABS, and other materials but my printer is running inside a spare room and I'm not set up with an enclosure or awesome ventilation yet to print with materials which off gas more toxic VOCs. Although PETG would be stronger for a buy'ce that is going to be worn PLA+ works just fine for most folks who are not in very hot conditions. (PLA will sag and melt in high heat) . The first time I wore my full kit, I was at work, and did a full day of fieldwork in it. The whole kit survived apart from one of the thrusters on my jetpack which I accidentally busted off while putting it back in the kit box (adhesive failure, I should have used hardware but I was in a rush to finish it before Halloween) . All fixed now! PLA would be just fine for printing teeny and/or decorative helmets. Just don't toss full size ones onto the floor off of a shelf (ask me how I know).

4. You can get STLs for clone helmets in all the places you'd expect (cults, thingiverse, etc) and from vendors on Etsy. Be careful, though, some of those files are stolen, and some are REALLY terrible and inaccurate. I usually avoid 'free' files, as for things as complex as helmets often end up being more costly in other ways, or are just not the quality I want. Galactic Armory has a nice selection of clone helmets (I have..... all of them. /embarrassment). Marko of Mystery Makers has really great Bad Batch (and other SW) helmets. He always tries to go a step beyond other modelers with his designs, both with functionality and accuracy. The Crosshair and RC helmet in my original post are both printed from Mystery Makers files. The RC helmet is the closest to the game design available, and the Cross helmet has a super cool functional rangefinder (like the different lenses are there and flip up and down, not just the whole rangefinder stalk moving). The Tech helmet is printed from Galactic Armory files, as are the rest (with the exception of Archers helmet which is AlterEgo, if I recall). The teeny helmets are printed from the full size files, just scaled down to 25%. I wouldn't' try to print these on an SLA/LCD resin printer, because the supports would be a nightmare I think, but it works just fine on an FDM printer. The most difficult part is printing the teeny greeblies for them which are super teeny at 25%. I almost always end up breaking the lil' rangefinder stalks, and am pretty sure I've lost the tusks for Rex's helmet more than once.

Cross WIP (Mystery Makers) with teeny (30%) Cross (Galactic Armory) 💙 Guess how many times I broke that teeny rangefinder stalk? Yeah. Four. 😖

Likewise, guess how many times I broke and lost the SUPER TEENY antennae on Tiny Tech's helmet? 😫

5. The visors in the full size helmets are generally welding/grinding replacement shields (Hobart brand, usually - available on Amazon). They are dark enough to obscure the wearers face and can be fairly easily cut to shape and installed. Tech's visor and goggle lenses are cut yellow acrylic, and in my original post still have the protective backing on them as they aren't 'officially' installed yet - which I why you can't see through them.

The visors for the full-size RC boys are more complicated. I believe the exact details of how I’ve been taught to do it are considered proprietary 🥺😏. To achieve the “Flirtation Mask” effect, two visors, a diffuser, and a strip of LEDs are installed in a very secret, not so secret, way. I’m working on a Scorch bucket, full size, and will have help to do this for the first time. Stay tuned. 😆 For the teeny helmets I use automotive window tint for the visors. It's easier to cut and bend into tiny shapes to fit inside the helmets. I got some blue stuff for the commando helmets, which should look cool once I install the lights. 😎

Teeny Gregor bucket WIP, with blue window tint FLIRTATION MASK 💙

6. The lil helmet stand under teeny Keeli (which I'm making for @eobe) is printed from a file from Galactic Armory. It's been through the ringer, because I use it to hold all the little helmets while I'm spray painting them and letting them cure. It did look nice when it was newer, and has the republic cog on the base. There is also a wall-mounted version which I have printed to hang Archer's helmet. I'll probably make more for the other helmets eventually.

7. VPLs (Visible Print Lines) are the enemy! As an MMCC member, it has been drilled into me that VPLs are evil and must be vanquished with extreme violence. I try to finish everything (with the exception of the flexi things people keep asking me to make) to an excellent standard with no VPLs - including the teeny helmets.

Raw Phase 1 (Animated) clone helmet and RC (Scorch) helmet). My printer does an excellent job, but still there are VPLs to be dealt with!

8. This question - how to get rid of VPLs could warrant it's own post. There are SO MANY techniques - some good, some NOT - but which ones you use depends largely on your print characteristics and what you intend to do with it. A lot of people lately have been recommending bathing the entire piece in a Bondo spot putty and acetone slurry several times until the lines are filled. I DO NOT recommend doing this for a piece that you intend to wear. I experimented with this and found out that after a small amount of wear the bondo likes to expel your paint in large chips, leaving ugly bondo-red spots behind. It would probably work ok for decorative pieces though. Other people have used UV curing resin to coat pieces to fill VPLs. It works, but UGH that stuff is toxic to touch and breathe, and it needs to be properly washed and cured, and cured some more. It's also much more difficult to sand than automotive body work products (which in all fairness are also toxic to breathe and touch - WEAR YOUR PPE).

My general process for armour pieces is to remove supports and then roughly sand (120 grit) only the really rough spots (like things that were overhangs or had a lot of supports). Sanding happens with a combination of sanding papers, sanding sticks, and needle files - depending on the piece. I then adhere pieces together (if they were printed in pieces like some of the larger full-size helmets) with plastic bonder. Seams are filled with Bondo plastic metal or EverCoat depending on the piece and I often plastic weld and staple the inside for strength. The seams are then sanded smooth. After I'm happy with the smoothness of the seams the entire piece will get 2-3 coats of automotive high-build filler primer (from a rattle can, though I have used the 1:4 mix stuff and brushed it on - I'd only recommend this with a large piece as that stuff REALLY fills things in quick - including the things you don't want it to) and a wet sand to 320 grit. At this point most of the print lines are filled, but stubborn areas, such as the top of the dome may still necessitate more coats. I generally end up applying 5 coats of filler primer, wet sanding between them. Following the final coat of filler primer, I'll wet sand again to about 400 grit (much more if we're going for the Beskar finish which needs a SUPER SMOOTH finish to work) and then put on a coat of regular primer. Black for helmets that will be dark (Most of the CF99 boys), and white for the other clone helmets. At this point they should be completely VPL free and ready for greebly installation and the "real" paint job. This process takes me at least a few days on full-size helmets as the paints have to cure between sanding and reapplication, and painting has to happen outside in good conditions. It's not inexpensive, but it is the most efficient and long-lasting way to do it, in my experience.

Cross helmet WIP. You can see the seam just under the visor cut out. This one printed in three pieces and needed ALL the seam filling and sanding. The pinkish and grey stuff are body fill products to fill in rough spots and seam lines. If you look at the last photo - of the same helmet - you can see they did a decent job of hiding that there was a seam. 😊

9. I use a lot of automotive products and paint. Since all my full size helmets are mean to be worn they need to be finished to a fairly high standard and be relatively tough. Archer's helmet body was finished entirely with Rustoleum brand filler primer and four layers of metallic paints (all rattle cans). The blue on the front was a Montana brand acrylic rattle can, and the copper parts (ear caps, rangefinder stalk) were enamel paint (Alclad copper) airbrushed on. The weathering - chips and scratches - were achieved by layering on a liquid latex medium between coats, so that when it was peeled off it revealed small bits of the coats beneath. It gives the damage a more realistic look than painting silver 'scratches' on after the fact. This liquid latex medium can be used to give the paint applied to clone helmets the chipped look to their painted designs as seen in the animation. It's a little more challenging to do in small scale though. After all the top coat paints are applied, I'll seal them in with a clear layer of satin or gloss sealant (rattle can). After that, I'll go over the entire piece with an acrylic black wash to make it look "dirty" and worn. 😅. After all that process, padding, visors, and electronics (HUD lights, fans, voice amps) are installed if needed. The whole thing is pretty time-consuming. I now understand why quality finished helmets cost as much as they do. My teeny helmets are all finished as I described above in the VPL section, but I use acrylics hand-painted on with a brush to apply the designs. In the animation versions of these helmets, particularly in TBB, the helmets all look like they've been (roughly) hand painted, so this technique works ok, I think. I apply the chipping and weathering at edges with dry brushing acrylics. I could apply a liquid latex mask and airbrush them, but eh. I'm using these little guys as fairy light "lanterns". They're super cute with the light showing a bit through the visors, particularly Tech. :)

The Teeny Batch boys that I've got finished. Echo is coming, he just needs his top coat and weathering. :D

Lil' Keeli almost finished, with his unfinished rangefinder. Have not broken the stalk yet! /cheer 🎉

10. Acrylics brand? Hmm... I've used the Montana Gold rattle can acrylics which some of the MMCC mandos seem to like. I'm not sure if the ones I got were duds, but I wasn't super impressed. The cans did a lot of spitting and messed up my paint a few times. My brush on acrylics are Liquitex or Golden. Both can be thinned and airbrushed, and are more costly than cheap crafting brands but are more highly pigmented and last longer (plus the finish is nicer).

11. Base colour is whatever primer I finish with - white or black, depending on what color the final piece will be. For Mando helmets, the base colour is a metallic silver, so that when I peel off the liquid latex layers, the pint chips down to “bare metal/beskar”. Since clone helmets are plastioid, the base colour for them remains white or black.

12. I finish with a rattle can sealant. Satin finish usually, but that depends on the look you want. Always try to stick with the same brand of primer, paint, and sealant. Different brands have different chemistry - accelerants and so on, and can, and often do react with one another. The frustration of having to sand down a piece that was almost finished cannot be described.

To avoid paint heartache, always also paint in good conditions. Temperature, humidity, wind, etc can all ruin you day and paint job. Please also always wear your PPE!

13. Are they? I hope they are. They sure are a labour of love, and much work - but it makes me happy to make them and to look at them. 😅

I'm very fond of Archer's buy'ce, and the whole kit really. It was the first one I 'finished' (every mando's kit is an ongoing WIP - forever), and the process of making it kept me focused on something positive during a rough time in my life. Wearing it is super fun! Ibic Manda!

WOW that got lengthy, so sorry! I had ALL the questions when I started, and a lot of the info you need is hard to find or in bits and pieces all over the internet. If you have any other questions, feel free to ask! I can only share my experience, but I have spent a huge amount of 2024 working on these for what that's worth. 🫣

#the clones #3d printing

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