#alternative Polish trips

[fkinavocado]

Daddy issues- Masterlist, Author’s Note & Warnings

extra / alternatively, read on wattpad

*timeline: somewhere after the main story

Piccolo amore (word count: 8k) -updated 8th of April 2024

You don’t know how this ever escaped you before, but as it turned out, Harry had quite the thing for travelling. As a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF (well, he was a father after all), Harry had eventually embraced his freedom after enough years had passed for him to actually start enjoying life again. He had limited visitation rights for his small daughter, Emily, so what was a divorced, smoking hot, young DILF to do other than to travel, namely through Europe, although some of his other favourite destinations had been as far away as Japan.

He was 27 when he first stepped foot in Italy, and, according to Harry, it was love at first sight. Had it not been for Emily, he’d have moved indefinitely, that’s how much he loved it there. He took extended trips though, and had even started to learn some Italian, practising everytime he stayed for as long as 2 months at a time. 

As time went on though, his interior design business really took off back in the US and his growing daughter needed his presence in her life more and more, despite her mother’s interference and efforts to alienate them. Time had flown, and here he was, 43 now and no longer single this time around as he returned after countless years. 

But very much still a smoking hot DILF.

…Tuscany, Italy. Literal heaven on earth. You hadn’t bought the plane tickets back yet, but you were in no hurry to leave. 

It’d been a journey, getting here. And you didn’t just mean Tuscany.

It hadn’t been easy.

Days had trickled by seamlessly. You’d lost track of how long you’d been here for. It was a haze of sleeping in, sunbathing, afternoon naps, decadent food and sweaty, delicious sex.

Looking at him on the wheel of the convertible he’d rented for your stay there, your heart felt like it could inflate enough to break out of your chest. His curls were a delicious mess, he was all tanned and bright eyes as he glanced at you from time to time to flash one of those trademark smiles of his your way. The sun was setting so you’d taken his sunnies off, making him chuckle. “Just wanna look at you properly.”

“Look at the scenery! You can always ogle me but you’re not gonna have this view every day.”

“All I want is you every day.” Yes, Tuscany was breathtaking but whenever you tried to remind yourself to take it all in you inadvertently found yourself settling your eyes back on Harry. How could you, when there was a time, not long ago, when you thought you’d never lay eyes on him ever again?

He squeezed your thigh, his hand in your lap as always and you kept caressing his knuckles, probably doing a great job at polishing his rings as a result. He had to keep his eyes on the road, since these were unfamiliar places you were exploring almost on the daily and almost every road was as narrow as the last.

He flipped his palm over yours, interlacing your fingers, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing it gently. He then placed it over his heart and you giggled as he pulled you almost completely over to his side in doing so. He let go then, chuckling in return but you kept your arm extended, and ran the back of your hand along the side of his face, caressing his cheekbone, then his ear, running your fingers through his hair a bit, then down his sharp jawline,admiring his perfect profile. 

“I love you, you know,” you nearly murmured, and with the loud sportscar engine you weren’t sure he’d even heard you. 

But he did. Had he still been wearing his sunglasses you probably would’ve missed the way his eyes glazed over, slowly growing sparkly in the sunset light. “Baby… none of that. Come on, let me see that handsome smile again.”

“I am smiling. I’m always smiling nowadays. Always. No matter what happens, my default state is happy, because you’re here. I just get emotional sometimes… never tire of you saying that. Never stop, please.”

It was your turn to get teary eyed. “Baby… never. I’ll never stop saying it, feeling it, showing you how much I love you. All the times I wished I could tell you and couldn’t… never taking a day for granted ever again.”

Harry was pulling over, having entered the town you were passing through to get to the small quaint village where you’d rented out a villa for your stay, and before you could ask why, he leaned over and kissed you senseless. This was another thing you’d never tire of. Harry never kissed just for the hell of it. He put his all into every single kiss, be it small, chaste peck or full on make-out session. “My little love. Let’s have gelato for dessert and then I’m taking you home to love on you, how’s that sound?”

“Can we skip the gelato?”

Harry chuckled. “Darling, are you really passing up ice cream so that I could fuck you sooner?”

“Duh. Feel like licking something else. And creampies are better than icecreams. Come onnn….”

Harry laughed out loud at that. “You’re a menace. Up you get before you talk me into this.”

You rolled your eyes playfully but he was already at the passenger door opening it for you then reaching over to the backseat to grab your jacket. It could get chilly even in the warm summer evenings sometimes. He kept it in his one hand and held yours in his other as you began your slow stroll through the nice little town, but Harry seemed to know where you were headed.

“You got a specific place in mind?”

“Mhm. Used to come here often back in the day. Hope it’s still running, they had the best gelato. A… uhm, local brought me there, so you know it’s the real deal.”

“A local, huh?” You teased. Of course you knew what Harry must have been up to on his trips here when he was younger. Nothing wrong about it, of course, and you felt silly for being ever so slightly jealous over it. Part of you wished you could’ve been together much earlier on, but of course, the age difference would’ve made it impossible anyway. You two had met at exactly the right time. Even so, sometimes you felt nostalgic over the lost time you could’ve had together had things been different. Some of which was just life… and some of it, your own doing.

“Signor Harry!”

Your eyes widened at the interaction between the two men, snapping out of your train of thought, the guilt ebbing away but never really going away, ever. 

You couldn’t understand Italian, but Harry was still pretty fluent, at least conversationally. He understood it more than he could speak it, at least that’s what he claimed, but ever since you’d arrived in Tuscany he only spoke Italian to everyone he interacted with. You just sat back and admired him, Italian sounded hot as fuck coming out of his mouth. You could tell there was always some sort of talk about you going on with the way the people he was speaking to kept looking at you; and the little you did understand- “bellissima”, “ragazza”, “amante”- you knew that was in reference to you. 

This instance was no different, the old man he’d encountered behind the gelato stand seemingly very interested in knowing more about you. Lord knows what Harry was telling them, they all had the same excited reaction, shaking his hand and patting him on the back, sometimes they’d wink at you and it’d make you all flustered. 

“Piccolo amore, what flavors would you like, hm?” He pulled you closer into his side.

“Har, they’re all in Italian…”

He pointed at each, translating for you. “Bourbon vanilla, but I guess you got that, Belgian chocolate too, ummm, rum and raisins, strawberries, mint chocolate chip, lemon, meringue,...” he clarified with the older man and then continued “figs, pistachio, dark chocolate, crème brûlée–”

“Oh gosh, stop, I can’t even keep track of so many… just get me what you think I’ll like, alright? What are you getting? Mint chocolate chip?”

“Duh,” he mimicked you from earlier and smothered a kiss on the top of your head, then gave the old man your order. He’d gotten a cone with two scoops for you, which he handed over promptly. “There you go, lovie. I got you dark chocolate and pistachio.”

“Perfect,” you beamed. 

“Sorry, they didn’t have creampie.”

You nearly choked on your first taste of the icecream but promptly remembered the older man probably didn’t know what that was. Hopefully. Or if it sounded familiar he’d probably think of an apple pie with extra whipped cream, or something. Hopefully.

“It’s ok, that’s what you would’ve wanted anyway,” you teased and gave him a pointed look. He’d slurped you clean from behind as recently as that morning. He pinched your hip he was resting his hand on then diverted his attention to his double scoop of mint chocolate chip, on a cone just like yours. Harry exchanged some more pleasantries with the old man, as well as paid for the gelato, then after you waved at him politely you resumed your stroll through the old historical town.

Harry loved throwing his arm over your shoulders, or better yet, keeping a firm hold of the back of your neck as you walked. He’d always been possessive of you, and, if anything, he was even more so in Italy where men had a distinct way of ogling women, even catcalling- something they’d never dream of doing with Harry by your side, of course, but their eyes roamed freely scanning you head to toe, and you could feel it everywhere you went. Harry must’ve been hyper aware of it too, maybe more so than you were, because he would snake his hand into your hair and angle your head sufficiently to kiss you- the minty, cold feel of his tongue against yours novel and refreshing.  Or even slide his large palm in the back pocket of your jeans, giving your bum a firm squeeze every now and then. “Love this plump arse.”

You puffed through your nostrils, “you better, it’s your fault it’s getting so big. First that fancy pasta and wine for dinner, not gelato, and it’s been like this ever since we got here. I barely buttoned up these jeans today. Gonna have to resort to just wearing my sundresses.”

“You’ll hear no complaints here. Besides, I did say I’d feed you and plump you up, didn’t I? You’re about the same as you were when we first met. Perfect.”

He was right. You’d lost a significant amount of weight in an unhealthy way during your time apart. And he was looking so much healthier too. Happier. 

“You’re beautiful either way, Y/N. I just want you healthy and happy. And I know for a fact pasta makes you happy, so…” he shrugged playfully and you kissed his dimple. You knew he was thinking about the same things you were.

It was hard letting go of the past. You couldn’t erase the time apart and the damage it’d done to both of you and your relationship. But for the past 5 months you’d been rebuilding it, day after day, brick by brick. Some days were tough. Especially at the beginning. It’d taken a lot of love, patience and understanding on both sides to get where you were now. 

But it was always in the back of your mind. 

You still woke up in the middle of the night, startled, somehow back in those crappy places you used to rent out while you’d been on the run. Only for Harry to tighten his hold around your middle, kiss your shoulder gently and reassure you he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever. 

Harry battled insomnia for a long while, something he’d suffered with while you’d been apart and couldn’t seem to shake off. It reached a point where he now was struggling not to doze off while softening, still inside of you, cuddling in your post orgasmic bliss, before he could clean both of you up. Took a lot of night-long marathons to get there, but it did the trick. The flipside was you calling him an old man. But what else was new?

It still felt weird drinking wine by yourself at dinner, since Harry was now completely sober. Had been since he’d found you waiting on his doorstep. He’d struggled with it at first. It’s hard giving up alcohol cold turkey especially considering it’d gotten to the point where he got into the habit of getting wasted and getting himself into trouble while you’d been apart. Just to… feel something. 

You didn’t know how he’d done it, but he hadn’t had a sip since you’d been back into his eyes. You knew it must’ve been really difficult, but he kept the struggle to himself. Focused on you and your fragile relationship.

It’d been particularly hard that one time when you went out with his extended group of friends for Halloween and he found himself in a social setting where everyone was drinking around him, for the first time in a long while. And that would’ve been manageable had he not had to watch a new addition to the group give you a hickey, in a game of truth or dare. You still remember how hard it’d been for Harry to reign it in that night- not just the need for alcohol but also keeping himself in check, doing his best to calm down in the bathroom and then leave the party inconspicuously before anyone got hurt. He tried to hide it from you but you found him in time to help him as best you could. You never wanted him to feel like he had to tackle all his demons alone. 

That had been the biggest hurdle so far, but he’d made it through sans incident and you were so proud of him. You didn’t care giving up drinking for his sake if it meant it wouldn’t be a trigger for him, but he assured you that you could indulge whenever you felt like it and that it wasn’t your fault he had to give it up completely. 

You could argue that it was, in fact, your fault. You had argued. You two didn’t see eye to eye on this at all, Harry insisting he wasn’t going to let you take the responsibility for it all: after all, his daughter had caused it all to spiral out of control- he should’ve told her off, been more assertive, taken control of the situation; hell, he should’ve raised her better!

But you tried your best not to go there, the two of you. Not anymore. You’d talked things out for a long while, and just decided it was better not to keep bringing up the hurtful past. There was no use anymore. You’d both learned your lessons from it and it was time to live in the moment. Create new, happy memories, that someday, maybe soon, would completely make up for those 17 months in which you’d both just… existed, at most.

And even when you got teary eyed, like earlier in the car, you didn’t have to speak the words to know what the other was trying to convey and how it all still hurt so much sometimes that it felt like the present was a sweet dream, a bubble ready to burst anytime, only for the two of you to wake up each in their own miserable existence, apart and alone.

It still hurt. You both still hurt, but you couldn’t change the past. So instead of pretending it never happened, you acknowledged it, and acted on it the best way you could, doting on eachother with as much love as you could.

Therapy helped a lot. Gave you the tools to work through it and turn it into a valuable lesson, if anything. 

“You make me happy.”

He kissed the top of your head in response, “think it’s time to head back home. You’re getting needier by the minute.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Well, excuse me for being a loving girlfriend I guess.”

“Oh, I know you are, baby. And I love it. But whenever you get like this I just know you’re gonna get all whiny and bratty if I don’t fill you up soon. Hm? Am I wrong? You’re gonna tell me you don’t feel all achy already?”

You huffed. Darnit. He knew you all too well. 

“And then if I don’t act on it quick enough you turn bratty. So c’mon.” He placed your jacket he’d been carrying for you over your shoulders, “it’s getting a bit chilly, too.”

Harry was right, as always. You found yourself squirming on the ride back to the villa, rubbing your thighs together. Sure, the wine always got you a bit needy. But you’d acted pretty needy the whole trip. You were just so content and he looked so good and tan and radiant whenever he smiled, he spoke Italian in that low timbre, he fed you goodies and took you to see beautiful places, and then on top if it all he fucked you good and made you feel so loved and appreciated. 

You just couldn’t help it. Your dynamic had shifted slightly ever since you’d gotten back together. He’d always been dominant but now you just naturally stepped wholly into your feminine energy in his presence, letting him take over completely- and not just in bed. You were his and handed yourself over to him fully. And it was palpable. You knew he could feel it too. 

However, he was right about you getting bratty if he didn’t shower you in affection the moment you craved it. Be it because you were in a public setting or what, sometimes you wished you could just hop in his lap and forget about everything and everyone around. He made you crazy with want and need and you were still growing to learn this side of yourself, as he was learning to manage it. You trusted him to lead the way.

You just got impatient sometimes. Maybe a bit bratty even, as he put it.

You scooted closer to him, as far as your seatbelt allowed, and reached to kiss his jaw. You didn’t just stop after a loud smooch though, no, you started mouthing and nibbling at his jawline, licking your way up to his ear and making him shiver. He was cleanshaven, and you took full advantage.

“Just a gentle reminder that I’m driving a motorised vehicle, sweetheart.”

“I know. You always focus and prioritise our safety, driving so aptly down these narrow roads. And then when we’re on longer strips ahead you really hit the gas, so that my hair can fly all wild the way I like and I can throw my hands up and almost feel like I’m flying, and the car is all horsepower and you look like sex personified.” You brought your hand to his lap and began rubbing dangerously closer and closer to his crotch.

“Y/N,...” he warned.

“What? I can’t help it. Whenever you rev the engine it tickles me, daddy… can feel it in my pussy. Now I’m all drippy.”

“Told you you’d turn into a whiny brat. Scoot back in your seat and be a good girl for daddy. Go on, don’t make me ask you twice.”

You huffed irritatedly and did as instructed, crossing your arms over your chest and looking out the window at the scenery trying to distract yourself. It was dark out now and Harry had pulled the top on the convertible, so you really didn’t understand what the big deal was. You could’ve at least given him a handjob…

But finally, finally you got to the villa and as soon as Harry shut the door behind you, you literally jumped his bones, making him chuckle between the kisses you were peppering his whole face with.

“Uff, needy puppy. What’s gotten into you, hm? You’re extra lovesick today. Didn’t I fuck you good and proper this morning? I’m certain you remember it since you had to mention it in front of poor Luciano. He’s 79 you know. What if he’d had a heart attack?”

You gasped in mock offence, “excuse me?! You’re the one who brought it up!”

“I sure did, wanna see?”

You pushed at his shoulder at his stupid pun as he brought you to the bedroom. He was unfazed of course, you couldn’t budge him if you wanted to, and instead threw you onto the bed with a bounce as if you were a throw pillow he’d been carrying, not his “plumped-up” girlfriend.

He began unbuttoning his shirt, a sight you’d never tire of and you squirmed gawking at him before he pulled you by the ankles to the edge of the bed and peeled your jeans off. “Ufff, look at this weepy little pussy. You made a mess of these panties, Y/N,” he tsked and it only made you grow wetter. You loved it when he teased and even humiliated you a bit. “So, are you gonna answer me or not? What got you so cockdumb, darling, hm? Was it the wine?”

“No,” you whined, “you know I only had two glasses… it’s not that. Plus I ate enough carbs to make up for it, anyway.”

“Then what is it, hm?” He rubbed his hands up and down your legs, kneeling at the foot of the bed, and then pushed your knees to your chest, running his large palms over the back of your thighs.

You threw your head back against the mattress in anticipation and whined pathetically. He was right. You really were extra sensitive tonight. “I’m… I guess I’m ovulating. That must be it.”

Harry groaned deep in his chest and plunged nose first into the fabric of your panties, inhaling deeply. “You smell so heady whenever you ovulate, you know that? Pussy so fragrant, makes my mouth water.”

You’d not gotten back on birth control after so long off it. After a long while of relying on condoms you decided to ditch those, too. Harry pulled out most times, but, since creampies were obviously a hot topic in this relationship, you did ask him to finish inside you occasionally.

Lately it had been more often than not.

You both knew the implications of it, had discussed it. Hell, Harry definitely had a breeding kink to start off with, had had it even while you’d been on birth control since having this kink didn’t necessarily imply actually wanting to get you pregnant. 

He’d expressed it was definitely more than just a kink though, and that he’d only ever felt this way about you. But it was up to you. He already had a kid, all grown up now ( even though Emily was still a delicate topic between the two of you). But you were young and he wasn’t too old to be a father by any means, you had time along the line for this, there was no rush, and there were no expectations either way. That being said, he did express his desire to have children with you if you deemed him worthy of it and if you even saw yourself as a mother someday.

You’d not made up your mind about it, however. You were open to the possibility, but definitely not actively trying for a baby, not yet at least. You still felt like you needed more time together just the two of you.

But the way he spoke to you whenever he talked about fantasising knocking you up really got to you. And he felt so good fucking you raw, felt so good filling you up. It felt so natural and your body craved it, craved all of it. It was primal, and you knew it, but it felt so good to just listen to what your bodies dictated instinctually.

You mewled and felt him pull your panties to the side, “fuck, Y/N. You’re drenched, baby. Why didn’t you tell daddy it was this bad, hm? Would’ve eaten you out in the restaurant’s bathroom or something.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time, either. No better than a couple of horny teenagers, really. 

His mouth on you was divine, as always. You often wondered if other men even knew how to eat pussy the way Harry did. Seemed like some sort of special talent you were either born with or doomed to live without. He knew what you liked and needed better than you did. How else would anyone explain that you could never dream of getting yourself off the way Harry did? 

He pushed your knees further back and really dug in after he promptly peeled your panties off of you. You wanted to beg for him to sink into you but you knew Harry never left a job unfinished, and whenever he ate you out he never left from between your legs until they were shaking and you came on his tongue at least twice, out of which at least once using his fingers also to open you up for him properly. Because, still, after all this time, you couldn’t really take Harry without some sort of warm-up, no matter how drippy you were for him. It was a struggle fitting him in whenever you tended to forgo foreplay, and that was something you fully enjoyed too. Loved the pain that came with him slowly feeding that massive cock of his into you, trying to make it fit inch by delicious inch. But that was for when you were either in a hurry of some sort and desperately needed to squeeze in a quickie, or for when he was feeling particularly mean dom-ish. You rarely got to experience Harry in that mindspace though, and even then he was never hurting you really. It was just a lot rougher and because it was such a rare treat, it was secretly your favourite.

This time, however, you’d seemingly forgotten how Harry had warned you not to get bratty. “Not in a hurry, baby. Gonna feast on this pussy for as long as I damn well please. After all, you know how much I love edging you, and you do need to be punished, hm? Brats don’t get to come. At least not until daddy says so. You’ve been warned, Y/N.”

“But daddy….” you whined pathetically, “I’ve been on edge all day, you can’t do this, not now… please!”

“Should’ve been patient, baby. Told you I’d take care of you when we got back. And I did take care of you this morning, you’re acting like a spoiled brat. Can’t have that can we?”

You kicked your legs a bit and Harry delivered a harsh slap to your bum followed by another swifter one to your pussy, making you keen and pant heavily. “Don’t test me, Y/N. You wanna come? Then be a good girl and take it. Begging doesn’t hurt either.”

You did take it, as best you could. And you did beg. You needed to come desperately but Harry kept edging you for what must’ve been at least over half an hour, although it felt like hours on end.

Then, you decided to switch tactics. Try and play on his own desires. 

“Ugh, daddy, please, please fill me up. My pussy needs it, I need to be full. Need it so much. Need your big fat cock to ram into my cervix over and over again. Need to feel you in my tummy. And my tits feel so heavy and tender, at least show them some love, daddy. Please… ovulating is making me feel crazy… My body needs you to mark it every way you can, daddy. Please…”

Harry chuckled sardonically against your pussy, making you tremble but you knew better than to get lost in the feeling and let yourself come without permission. “I know what you’re doing, sweetheart. What a desperate, filthy little thing, playing with me this way. You really must want it bad to taunt daddy like this.”

“I do, daddy, I do, I swear I do… I’d do anything. Just tell me and I’ll do it. All I want is for you to fill me up to the brim and then keep going. Cause I know you can, I’ve seen you do it… I love how you stay hard for me even after you finish, pumping your come back into me again and again and then going all night long until you have me choke on you so that you could unload down my throat this time… please, want it again daddy, I know you can… don’t you want to? Doesn’t have to be my mouth the second time around, you can come inside me again, make it catch. Knock me up. Tie me down.”

Harry groaned loudly this time around and pushed your thighs apart, hovering over you whilst his hand went directly around your neck, squeezing enough for you to roll your eyes to the back of your head. He eased up a little for you to focus your gaze back on him before he licked his lips, your juices all over his face that he’d shaved clean that very afternoon before you’d left for dinner. You loved how he did that sometimes, just as much as you loved his stubble. It was a nice switch and he looked just as handsome either way, you couldn’t make up your mind which you preferred more. However, you did feel grateful he’d shaved before edging you like this for so long, otherwise you’d have been sure to chafe a bit from all the friction his stubble would’ve inflicted.

“Careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire. You know all too well I’d love nothing more than to fuck a baby into you. I already creampied you this morning, we’re on dangerous territory as it is.”

He was right. You knew he was. But in that moment, fuck it if you cared. If anything, you two had learned how to just be, live in the moment. Tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed.

“All I know is that I want you, all of you. Forever. Whatever that means. Let’s just… be.”

Harry pressed his lips against you and kissed you thoroughly. He’d long since undressed as well, stroking himself languidly every now and then as he ate you out. He didn’t edge himself, you’re the one who needed to be punished, but he just couldn’t help himself. He wanted to be inside of you just as much as you did. But Harry had one thing you lacked which was self control and that’s one of the things that made him such an apt dom in the bedroom.

So, it was easy to slip right inside of you, your pussy swallowing him up hungrily and squeezing him tightly, lest he pulled away. It was such a heady feeling finally being full after craving it for what felt like ages that he’d been edging you, and it only took a few minutes and his permission for you to come hard all over him, making a mess of both of you and the bedding. Luckily the villa had another bedroom you’d not used yet so you didn’t have to worry about changing the bedsheets before you went to sleep.

“That’s it, baby, fucking drench me. Fuck, you were ready to burst weren’t you? My poor darling. Daddy really did a number on you tonight. Gonna keep on coming for me, really open you up for me. How’s that sound? We’re gonna go from edging to overstimulating this poor, sopping pussy.”

You cried out real tears of pleasure as he was dirty talking all throughout your orgasm, never slowing down, no reprieve. He was hellbent on going from one extreme to the other. “Gonna open you up real good, push myself in so deep you’ll feel it for days. You wanted all night? I’ll give you all night.”

Harry didn’t let up. Had you coming on his cock over and over again, your orgasms closer and closer together the longer he went. Flipped you around on your hands and knees, then your stomach, then onto your side, and when you were ready to pass out… the sadistic bastard made you ride him. 

You did your best for a good two minutes, until he huffed mockingly. “What’s the matter, sweetheart, thought you wanted to go all night long. You’re barely moving. That’s not very nice, after you begged me to give you my cock for so long.”

You got whiny and frustrated at his teasing tone and really did your best but your thighs were already shaky from all those orgasms, you simply couldn’t muster up the strength. Harry kept mocking you, sitting back, hands behind his head “no better than a pillow princess, look at you. You shouldn’t talk the talk if you can’t walk the walk, baby.”

“Daddy… please… I can’t…”

“I know you can’t. What, you want daddy to do all the work, hm? Nothing but a hole to come into, that’s what you wanna be? Do you think this is what all those Italian women Luciano saw me with year after year did once I brought them back with me for the night? Pfff…”

“Daddy!!!” You cried out. “You’re being cruel…”

“Am I? I haven’t even finished once and you want me to keep going after that, meanwhile you can’t even ride me properly. Silly girl… claimed you wanted me to breed you. Want to be a mother? Gotta be a woman first, learn how to satisfy your man.” He reached over and smacked your bum, which propelled you further, almost dismounting him.

However, the tears that immediately flooded your eyes took you by surprise. This was not the first time Harry had degraded you in bed. You loved it and he knew you did. It was a rare treat, just like him getting rougher with you, which he hadn’t tonight. You usually got off embarrassingly quickly to it, and you knew he’d never say anything with the intention of hurting you. 

Harry laughed sardonically but when you pulled back up whatever he’d been gearing up to say got lodged in his throat when he saw the tears gleaming in your eyes, your hands crossing and going to your throat protectively as you straightened up. He immediately pulled out and sat you on his lap, scrambling to cradle you to his chest. “Fuck, baby, you know I meant none of that– you know that! We were playing. You usually love it when I degrade you a bit… I’m such a silly man. Should’ve known better than to go there.” 

He spoke softly, caressing and petting you all over, rocking the both of you back and forth and shushing you as you still hiccuped your tears against his chest. “I know… I know you didn’t mean it, but… I just… I was already wondering about them since we got here, I’ve been meaning to ask about what yo– what you used to do when you’d come down here, but I was too much of a coward. I– I got really upset just thinking about it. I know it’s silly… and it’s probably what’s been making me so needy, even before I began ovulating… I just can’t stand the thought. And knowing what… I mean– when we were apart… ughh. I just can’t stomach it, Harry. You were entitled to… You were single after all… in all of those instances… but… but, you’re mine, and…”

“I am yours. I’m yours, Y/N. I pushed it too far… I know your legs are all shaky, I made you ride me on purpose just to mess with you a bit,… but I took it too far.” Feeling you calm down ever so slightly, he pulled away and made you look at him, pushing your hair behind your ears and smudging your tears away. “No one, and I mean no one can ever dream of coming close to you. You hear me? Nobody’s made me feel better, ever. You’re all I could ever dream of, you need to know this Y/N. I’ve never been as compatible sexually with anyone the way I am with you. You think anyone else’s made me finish and then keep on going the whole damn night? Not even when I was younger, let alone now. If I’m any good it’s your own merit, you make me want to push myself and do better, be better for you, every damn time. You make me hard just glancing at you. You’re the best I’ve ever had. And I’m not just saying it to undo the silly stuff I said earlier, none of which was true. I know how jealous you get, I love it a bit too much when you get like that… and I love mocking you and seeing you get all squirmy and embarrassed– but that’s not how I should’ve done it, I went too far. I didn’t mean any of it, please believe me Y/N. I swear it. You’re all I want. I’m the luckiest bastard. Please believe me, sweetheart.”

“I know… I know it, rationally. But it just… rubbed me the wrong way, even though we were playing and I knew better. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m sorry. I’m a fucking idiot. Please forgive me.”

“I do. It’s alright. Let’s forget about it, alright?”

Harry looked heartbroken. You’d not really seen him like this for a while and it pained you, so much so that you wish you could’ve just kept your mouth shut and went with it, since you sincerely did believe none of it was really true.

But you swore you’d be truthful to one another, and especially in the bedroom Harry had insisted so much on you voicing any sort of discomfort regarding anything, no matter how small. You never safe worded, hell, you didn’t have one, because you never needed to; he knew how to read your queues and you’d never had to stop anything before.

This was the first time you’d stopped sex.

Eventually, you took a shower together where Harry doted on you and handled you with utmost care and tenderness. Then took you into the other bedroom where a fresh bed awaited and held you tight into his arms. “I love you so much, Y/N. You mean everything to me. I hate that I made you cry, hate that I made you feel even for a second like what I was saying was true at all. It makes me sick to my stomach…”

“Would you… want to tell me about them? The women you met here?”

Harry sighed profusely. “Darling, there’s nothing to say. Meaningless people that I can’t even recall the name of, if I even knew them to begin with. I remember nothing about any of them. I was trying to heal after the divorce, trying to let loose a bit… tried to have a bit of fun, lord knows I needed to get out of my head. Looking back, it’s almost laughable. I really thought I’d hit rock bottom back them… little did I know, it could be so, so much worse than that. 

“But… at the time, I felt miserable. I began travelling like I told you a few years after the divorce and I quickly became enamoured with Italy specifically. I don’t know… I just love this country. The women… were a means to an end, I was never looking for anything serious, and they knew it. I wasn’t leading anyone on. Never met someone I connected with. I told you, I’d never been with anyone serious after my divorce until you. I’d never known sex could be this way til I met you. Sure, I’d discovered my more dominant side a while back, not gonna try and lie and say I’ve not had plenty of experience in that regard. But, sex is just sex, at the end of the day. Some partners were better than others, and when I was here back when I was younger I hadn’t even indulged in most of my kinks and fantasies yet. It was later on that I embraced all of that. 

“But trust me when I say, I’ve never clicked with someone sexually like this. I don’t know if it’s because I’d fallen in love with you, at least in the beginning I wasn’t looking for this to get serious, as you know. But we did click from the start, you just… you just fucking do it for me, Y/N. Our bodies just call out to one another. You’re so responsive and you always know just what to do or say to me to make me lose my fucking mind. We’ve been together for so long… or should I say- I’ve been in love with you for so long, you’d say my desire would’ve dampened with time, or that sex would start to become monotonous eventually. I don’t think it’s that way at all. I feel like it just keeps growing somehow. I never get my fill with you. Feel like a fucking teenager with a loveboner dancing around your skirt all day long. You make me feel like that, no one else. Do you believe me, Y/N? Madly in love doesn’t even cut it. I worship you.”

You were lost for words. You’d been looking into eachother’s eyes this whole time and you couldn’t explain how this man had just made you go from crying, jealous, frustrated and feeling less than, to feeling like the luckiest woman to walk the earth. “I do believe you, Harry. You don’t have to keep explaining yourself. We’ve played like that before and I always took it well, in fact I love it when you get all condescending and mean and it gets me off embarrassingly quickly usually. I don’t know what it was… maybe you’re right, maybe it hit a little too close to home, but I do know you didn’t mean to. I wish I hadn’t had this reaction, but–”

“No, baby, don’t say that. Don’t try to take the blame in any way. I take full responsibility. I’m just glad you know it wasn’t true… I hope you do, hope you’re not just saying that.”

“I’m not, I swear I’m not. I do believe you. And I love you, too, and needless to say no one has ever compared to you, ever. Maybe I’m not as experienced as you… but I don’t have to be to know I’d have never found a better match than you.”

It was Harry’s turn to get teary eyed as he whispered, “you don’t know how much it means to me… that you didn’t– while we were apart; and I wish… I wish I could take it all back. Had I known I’d ever find you… or that you’d ever want anything to do to me ever again… I’d have never–”

“Shhh. It’s alright, baby. I don’t hold it against you. All of it is my fault– no, don’t interrupt me. It’s the one thing we can’t seem to agree upon. I just want it to be clear, once and for all. Us separating and all the heartache and misery we both went through was my own fault. Not yours. Not Emily’s. No one else’s but mine. I should’ve never left the way I did. That was… an inexcusable betrayal… I did it for what I considered to be the right reasons, lord knows I did it with the best intentions. Never meant to hurt you for one second. I really thought I was doing the right thing, I knew you’d never choose between us.

“So I took the decision for you. Which was a gross overstep. I crossed such a huge line, taking that decision for you, not even discussing it with you, abandoning you. I hurt both of us so much. I was so stupid. So… don’t talk to me about feeling guilty. I know what guilt feels like and it’s something I have to live with for the rest of my life. You did nothing wrong. Nothing. You did what you could to keep pushing, to give you at least a semblance of normalcy. I’d never hold it against you, I truly don’t, Harry. So please… don’t paint me into this hero for not having slept with anyone else while we were apart. It would have been torture for me had I done it. As I’m sure it was for you, and that’s why you did it, so you could punish yourself some more. Don’t think I don’t know that. I don’t pretend to understand what you went through fully… but just know I went through hell as well, at my own doing. 

“I’m not even asking for your forgiveness. I could never dream of it. I’m so incredibly happy you gave us another chance… No one else would’ve. I still don’t know how you could do it. Still don’t know what I deserved to have you back in my life. So, all of this nonsense about people you’ve fucked in the past and what they were like? That’s so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. You love me, and god knows I love you, and that’s all there is to it. Nothing else matters.”

“It fucking tears me apart to hear you speak like that, Y/N. I’d go through it all again if it meant I could take away your own pain. I do forgive you, no matter how unworthy you may feel, you’re worth it to me. So worth it. Fucking love of my life. I’d go through hell and back for you. I’d have never stopped searching for you. Never. My life is barren without you. Nothing matters. Children or no children, married or not- all these things I try and contain myself about and not overwhelm you with… are just me being greedy and wanting more and more of you. I never want you to feel pressured in any way. I’m content just being here with you in my arms and looking into your beautiful eyes. It’s all I ever wanted. And it’s more than enough.”

“I know, baby. You’re not pressuring me. I want to make you happy. It’s all I want. That makes me the happiest. I’ll give you everything you want. And not from some place of feeling indebted to you… to make up for all the hurt and suffering I caused. I just want to make it clear, because I know you, and I know you might suspect that of me. No. I meant what I said earlier… I’m not exactly saying we should try for a baby… but maybe we shouldn’t be avoiding it at all costs, either. Let’s see where life takes us. We can handle it, right? We’ve proven as much. Just imagining you with a baby in your arms is getting my ovaries in a knot. Maybe we should listen to what our bodies are trying to tell us.”

Harry rested on his elbow, leaning over you. “You really mean it, baby? You’d want that, truly?”

You nodded slowly and Harry grinned the biggest smile you’d seen on his gorgeous face yet. It dawned on you then and there that he’d been really holding back on how much he truly wanted this. It was enough to erase any shred of doubt from your mind. 

He proceeded to pepper your whole entire face in enthusiastic kisses, down your throat and all the way to the insides of your palms. He then pulled your back to his chest and cocooned you in the warmest embrace telling you over and over again how much he loved you and how happy you made him. 

And just when you were on the verge of falling asleep, you heard him whisper in your ear, “I can’t wait to wife you up… my little love.”

Daddy issues- Masterlist

A/N: it's taken me a long time to get here ❤️ this is the truest version of my babies, good and bad, they're definitely not perfect but their love is ❤️ thank you for being so patient with me and for sticking with me along this beautiful journey. i'll keep writing check-ins for them, promise! any prompts are welcomed!

P.S.: 🍭 anon, this was supposed to be your much awaited balcony scene but i got... distracted. don't worry. it's gonna happen... eventually 😅

💕 like & reblog if you enjoyed this, lovelies, and most importantly, please come share your thoughts on it here 💌

🦋follow me on wattpad to get notified whenever i post something new/update!🦋

[sterekcollabang]

Hale of a Proposal

Writer: @one-fandom-became-all-fandoms

Artist: @renmackree

Rating: M Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Cora Hale, Talia Hale, Peter Hale, Jordan Parrish, Malia Tate, Theo Raeken, Jackson Whittemore Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - The Proposal (2009) Fusion, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Office, Alternate Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Getting to Know Each Other, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously Summary:

Stiles is in charge of the biggest publishing company in America. He is also a Polish immigrant. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal—except his visa is expiring, and he forgot to fill out the proper paperwork to renew it. Without help, he'll be deported immediately. Derek is Stiles's secretary. He comes from a small town in Alaska, and thought he would have to miss his sister's twenty-first birthday due to work conflicts. Like always. However, when his boss announces their impromptu engagement to an immigration officer, they take a trip from the Big Apple to Sitka, Alaska to visit the fam in a whirlwind panic of a weekend.

[Read More]

[sentientgolfball]

Same Old, Same Old

if you couldn't tell I've been possessed by these two recently

Read here or on Ao3

Pairing: Zephrit

Word Count: 3730

Tags: pup as a nickname, Zeph is kinda(?) mean...a little?, so much nipple

Summary: Ifrit takes a trip down memory lane by playing dress up with his old uniform. Zephyr catches him and makes the most out of it.

A bored ghoul never meant anything good. Ifrit had been sitting in his room all day, bored out of his mind. No chores to help with, no Siblings looking for him, no call to action. He laid in bed for an unreasonable amount of time, alternating between texting Zephyr and scrolling on his phone. Another hour passed before he huffed and tossed it on the bed next to him. There were only so many cat videos he could take. 

He heaved a sigh before standing, stretching with a pop in his shoulders. He figured a walk will do him some good, anything to get his blood pumping. Fire was an element of energy and Ifrit could not stand the thought of staying still any longer. Maybe he would even find something to do while he was out and about. Even if he did not, at least he would not be laying around anymore. 

He thinks about where he will go as he changes out of his pajamas. His phone buzzes, another text from Zephyr. From what Ifrit could tell, they have been having a day. They have been helping a new Sibling tasked with sorting through the older books in the library which is not a problem on its own, it is a certain Sister. Sister Gracie. She has been the problem in all of Zephyr’s workday stories recently. She checks out hoards of books and keeps them well past their due date. On multiple occasions, Zephyr has had to go directly to her and ask for them back. They were at their wit's end for today though. Apparently, she actually returned the stack she checked out on time, but when Zephyr went to collect them from the bin they had been damaged. All of them were either soaked or had some mystery stain on the pages. So all day it has been running between helping the new Sibling, talking with Imperator and Sister Gracie, and trying to salvage the books. 

Another ping from Ifrit’s phone. 

If I see her in here ever again after this I will be more than tempted to break that stupid human rule they can send me back to Hell it’ll be worth it to claw her eyes out

He stares at the message and quickly decides he will make the library his destination for his walk. It was on the opposite end of the Ministry from the ghoul den, so surely it will be enough to get some energy out. Plus seeing Zeph right about now sounds nice, for both their sakes. He sends them a quick text telling them he is stopping by before lacing up his boots and leaving the den. 

The halls aren’t as filled as they usually are, he passes a few pockets of Siblings and ghouls filtering about but that’s it. He greets them all with enthusiasm, a bright fang filled smile. It seems to be a lazy day for the entire Ministry, though the heat from the late spring sun might have something to do with that. 

He decides to take the longest way possible to the library, taking every twist and turn he can. He can feel his fire crackling just under his skin. Now that he’s finally moving around he feels ready to burst. When he passes the doors to the practice room he pauses though. He stares at the metal doors, out of place against the stone architecture of the ancient building. It’s been a long time since he’s gone inside, since he’s been on this wing of the Ministry. He hasn’t needed to, when Dew changed guitars Ifrit took the fantomen to keep in his room. When he gets that itch to play all he has to do is take it off the wall. 

He opens the door just to peek inside. When he sees the room is empty he figures a quick trip down memory lane won’t take too much of his time. He steps in, lights and air conditioning coming to life when the sensors pick up movement. He takes a deep breath, it smells of artificial cold and polish. Underneath all that though, the dull scents of various ghouls filter through. Quintessence and fire smell the strongest. Ifrit briefly wonders which combination decided to lock themselves in here for a few hours. Omega and Alpha? Dew and Aether? Phantom and Dew? Or maybe it was Swiss? The multi ghoul’s scent was always hard to pinpoint unless it was fresh. 

Ifrit shrugs, not too concerned with the details. He bounces around the mini rehearsal stage; eyes closed to let muscle memory take over. He bends backwards, throwing a hand into the air to show off to a ghostly crowd. If he’s quiet he can almost hear the cheering. He misses the energy of performing, misses the pleasant ache in his body after a ritual. Even so, he would not go back. Nothing would stop him from being where Zephyr is. Nobody had asked him to leave, but when Zephyr said they couldn’t  handle it anymore it wasn’t even a question. Reliving the memories is enough as long as Zephyr is with him. 

Oh shit Zephyr!

He pulls himself back to the present with a shake of his head. He already took too much time by stopping, Zephyr is probably waiting for him outside the library doors. He jumps off the mini stage, bounding towards the exit when a light catches his eye. One of the soundproof practice rooms has a light on. He thought he was alone. He can’t help it when he turns, heading down the short hallway. He peers into the window when he’s close enough only to find it empty. Well not empty, all of the spare practice rooms were being used as storage while the band wasn’t actively preparing for a tour, but there was no one inside. 

He goes to open the door, but it hadn’t been closed all the way. He pushes it open and steps inside, surveying the space for any signs of who the mystery ghoul may have been. Whoever they are, they left in a hurry. Uniform bags are open, a mask box sitting on one of the few chairs in the room. Ifrit moves to clean up the small mess, but seeing the glint of the mask has him stopping. It’s not one of the helmets like he was expecting. Its silver, no opening for a mouth, curling horns, and sculpted hair. Empty eyes stare up at him. His eyes. His mask. 

He doesn’t think as he takes it out of the box, bringing it up to his face to look into the eye holes. It’s surreal to hold it again. The only one who stills wears this version is Omega; feeling the cool metal feels wrong but almost right in a strange way. This was his face for his first few months Topside and now it just sits in a box. 

An idea crosses his mind. One that would surely get him in trouble if he was caught. Whoever was in here before him clearly thought the same thing, only Ifrit didn’t stop. He put the mask back into the box, closing the lid and picking it up before his conscious could catch up to him. His eyes quickly scan over the rack of costume bags until he finds the right size. If he was going to steal pieces of Ministry history he needed to do it quickly before someone else wandered in. 

He shuts off all the lights in the practice room before slinking out of the metal doors. He figures if he goes the short way back to the den he’ll make it to his room before running into trouble. The library is all but forgetting as he scurries back with his contraband. He won’t have it for long, just the evening. He’ll return it first thing in the morning before anyone notices it’s missing. It’s been a long time since he’s seen this uniform, he just wants to taste it again. 

He makes it back to his room in the den with no trouble, suddenly very thankful for the slow, lazy day. He has the uniform out of the bag; still on the hanger but laid across his bed. He stares at it. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” He runs a hand through his hair. 

Despite his conscious finally catching up to him, he shrugs his leather jacket off before pulling his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor. He discards his pants next, adding to the pile of clothes next to the bed. He stares at this old uniform in nothing but his underwear for a moment long before grabbing it. He puts the pants on first. It’s a little tighter than he remembers, meeting a bit of resistance as he pulls them over his thighs. After a bit of tugging he gets them all the way up to sit around his hips. The waistband slightly digs into his skin. The top comes next. He unbuttons it with practiced ease before sliding it onto his shoulders. 

“Oh shit,” he says with a mix of surprise and panic. 

It’s already tight around his shoulders and he hasn’t even rebuttoned it yet. He turns to look at the floor length mirror that sits in the corner of the room. The fabric is pulled taut and he briefly worries about the seams bursting if he moves too fast. He didn’t risk stealing this for nothing though. He begins to close the buttons one by one. It becomes a struggle once he’s halfway up his abdomen. He has to suck in deep breaths of air just to be able to pull the edges close enough to slip the button in. It’s a fight once he gets over his chest. No matter how he moves he can’t close it. He breathes, he relaxes his shoulders, he hunches forward, yet nothing gets him closer to his goal. Did he really get that much bigger since his summoning? 

He stares at his reflection, the uniform so close to being all the way on. If he could just get the buttons over his chest closed. He ponders any possible solution, so lost in thought he doesn’t hear the door open. 

“So, this is what you did instead of coming to see me?” Zephyr leans against the doorframe with their arms crossed. 

Ifrit whips around, a slight flush to his cheeks as he tries to stammer out an explanation, “Zeph! No you see I was coming to see you, swear on the Lords, but I…well you see it’s funny really—“ 

“Save it,” Zephyr holds up a hand “I can see you’re having lots of fun playing dress up. Please, don’t let me stop you.” 

They watch him, waiting for him to continue. Yellow eyes look him up and down expectantly. Ifrit almost flinches under the intensity. 

“I can’t.” He bows his head, looking at his feet. 

“What? Too shy now that you’ve got an audience? Come now Ifrit, I thought you loved the spotlight.” 

He shakes his head. “No that’s not…I can’t Zeph.” 

He tries to pull the buttons over his chest once more, showing Zephyr what he means. They watch him struggle for just a moment before it clicks. Their eyes scan over his figure again, only this time they notice how tight the uniform is on him. It's clinging to him, no wrinkles or extra space in sight. The way his chest bulges out of the unbuttoned front. They can see the outline of his nipple piercings. They can see everything. When the silence stretches on for too long, Ifrit lifts his head to look at them, guilt and shame written all over his face with how deep that blush has gotten. Suddenly Zephyr couldn’t care less about having to walk back to the den all by themselves. 

“Poor little pup can’t fit into his old uniform?” Zephyr pushes off the doorframe, stepping into the room and closing the door behind them. 

Ifrit’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the tone of their voice. Zephyr stalks over to him, running their hand over his shoulder and down his arm. They can feel the muscle ripple under the featherlight touch. They can’t help but squeeze his bicep, feeling the solidness through the fabric. Ifrit shudders, watching a small grin appear on their face. They meet each other's eye for a moment before Zephyr slips one of their hands into the opening of the uniform to grab at one of his pecs. 

“Why bother trying to button this thing? Leave it open so everyone can see your perfect tits.” 

Ifrit chokes on air when Zephyr pinches one of his pierced nipples harder than what could be considered pleasurable. 

“This is certainly an improvement. Could never touch you like this backstage.” They fondle his chest, squeezing as much of him as they can with one hand. 

Ifrit allows himself to be pushed until his back hits the dresser, hand shooting out behind him to keep his balance. Zephyr presses themselves tight against him, standing in between his legs to cage him in. He stares down at them as they start to mouth over his chest. The whiplash of Zephyr catching him to having that cool tongue gliding over heated skin makes his head spin. He isn’t sure if he should stop them, telling them to wait so he can take it off lest he rips it, or let them continue to grope his sensitive tits. 

When he feels them bite close to his nipple his brain shuts off, hand flying up to stop the whimper that catches in his throat. Zephyr does it again. And again, and again, and again until his chest is covered in purple. His hips grind forward against them when their other hand tweaks his nipple at the same time they suck the other into their mouth. They squeeze their tail around his waist to stop the movement of his hips. 

“Not yet pup, I want to take my time with you while you’re like this. Don’t want it to end too early.”  

“Zeph, Birdie. Come on, we…you’re going to rip it,” he struggles to form a coherent thought with the way they’re rolling that sensitive bud between their teeth. 

Zephyr pulls off of him slowly. They stand from their hunched position to stare at him, hands still roaming over his chest. “Are you telling me no?” 

“‘No!” He says in a hurry “, that’s not what—“ 

“Then shut your mouth. You’re the one who wanted to play dress up, so let’s play.” 

Zephyr steps away from him before reaching up to wrap their hand around one of his horns. They drag him to the bed, tugging and pulling at him to get him to lay flat on his back. Ifrit’s helpless to it, he allows them to move him however they want with nothing but the grip on his horn. When he’s down, Zephyr straddles his hips. Ifrit stares up at them with wide eyes, waiting for them to make a move so he can figure out how to not burst every seam on the uniform while they use him. 

They tilt their head smiling at him; something sweet and simple before spitting directly onto his tits. Everything moves quickly after that; they unzip their pants just enough to pull their cock out, jacking themselves a few times before sliding up farther on Ifrit’s abdomen. They reach into the uniform to squeeze his chest together, moving their hands in quick circles to smear the salvia around before letting up on the tension just enough to shove their cock between them. 

They squish his tits together until they’re hissing with satisfaction before slowly rocking their hips. He itches to replace their hands with his, do something other than stare slack jawed up at Zephyr, but every thought dies when he sees the tip of their dick peek out from his cleavage. His hips twitch up searching for friction when he watches a bead of pre drip so close to his chin he could lick it up if he craned his neck just a bit more. 

Zephyr laughs at the hazy look in his eyes, at the way he’s just staring at the way their tip glides closer and closer to his face with each roll of their hips. The laugh is cut off when his brain finally catches up and he flicks his tongue out to swipe over the slit, drinking down the pre pearling at the tip. Zephyr shudders with a groan, hips bucking forward to get closer to the heat of his mouth. 

“Not as dumb as I thought you were.” They huff, resuming a more rhythmic grind albeit it faster than before. 

Ifrit is craning his neck to keep his tongue out, licking over their cock as they fuck his tits. He can feel the drool running down the side of  his mouth, dripping onto his collarbones only to slide down and pool in his cleavage. 

“Making a mess of yourself pup,” Zephyr groans. 

Ifrit doesn’t respond, doesn’t have the brain power to. His senses are flooded with the taste of them, with the sight of their flushed cock, with the breathy little sighs that fall from their lips each time Ifrit flicks his tongue. He wants to get them in his mouth, properly suck them off until they cum down his throat. He moves without thinking, trying to grab their hands and surge forward to flip their positions. He doesn’t get that far. The moment he lifts his shoulders a deafening pop accompanies the sound of skin gliding on skin. Ifrit is slammed back into his body when the tension around his shoulders suddenly feels lighter, less constricted. 

“Birdie shit wait. Stop, I think it ripped.” He panics, squeezing Zephyr’s wrists. 

“How is that my problem? You stole it now you’ll live with the consequences.” They huff, doubling down. They squeeze his chest tighter, rocking their hips faster. 

Ifrit could easily throw them off, truly ask them to stop, but he can’t find it in himself to move. He’s paralyzed by the realization he damaged the uniform, but also by the ache between his legs and the weight of Zephyr on his chest. Caught between his want to stop and his need to continue. 

His mind is made up for him when a particularly hard thrust from Zephyr pushes the tip of their cock against his lips. His hands fly to their hips, urging them to do it again. They oblige, pressing closer to his face. Ifrit shifts just enough to be able to wrap his lips around the head, sucking and licking over it. Zephyr’s head falls forward, cursing under their breath. Their thrusts turn into quick little grinds, shoving more of their cock into that hot, wet mouth. 

Ifrit lets the weight of it rest on his tongue as drool runs down his chin. The awkward angle makes it difficult to take more than an inch of them, but he doesn’t care. He’s content to run his tongue over them, licking at their slit and the sensitive spot on the underside. Ifrit sucks, working his lips around them and Zephyr is unable to stop their talons from digging into the meat of his chest. Ifrit moans, eyes fluttering and hips bucking into the air from the prick of pain. 

Ifrit does it again. Instead of talons tearing tendering flesh he feels Zephyr go rigid. They cum without warning, coating the inside of his mouth. He instinctively swallows around them and they shudder as another glob squirts over his tongue. Ifrit suckles on his dick until it’s too much and they’re pulling away from him in overstimulation. They’re both panting, staring at each other with flushed cheeks while they catch their breath. When Ifrit runs a hand through the mess on the chest Zephyr groans. 

“Get out of that thing before I ruin it.” Zephyr slides off of him, knees cracking when they stand. 

Ifrit sits up to sit on the edge of the bed, turned to stare at his reflection in the mirror. He runs his hands over the deep marks littering his chest. His brain supplies him with memories from backstage closets and hotel rooms as his eyes rake over the disheveled uniform. That is, before he remembers where he’s at. Why he has the costume to begin with. His head snaps to Zephyr who’s just smiling at him. 

“Don’t worry I’ll fix it before someone has your horns.” 

Ifrit sighs a breath of relief. “Thank you birdie.” 

“It wouldn’t be the first time and I certainly hope it isn’t the last,” they press a kiss to his temple ,” now strip.” 

He stands, taking off the top as carefully as possible to not make the tear worse. The seam on his right shoulder is ripped down to the armpit. He cringes at the sight, handing it over to Zephyr before shucking the pants. Zephyr nearly doubles over at the sizable wet patch on the front of his boxers. The fabric clings to him, outline the shape of his now soft cock. They palm at him, squeezing him through his underwear and smearing the mess around. Ifrit shudders at the feeling. 

“Filthy,” Zephyr muses. 

“You’re one to talk,” Ifrit huffs a laugh. 

They shrug, gathering the discarded uniform and folding it neatly before putting it on the desk to work on later. 

“You’re the one who put it on. I’m not to blame for my actions.” 

“Hm,” he thinks for a moment, “maybe next time I’ll wear the mask.” 

“Oh so suddenly you have no reservations about stealing Ministry relics?” They eye him with a grin, something dangerous glinting in their eyes. 

He grins back, “Not when it makes you like this, birdie.” 

They hum, pressing kisses along his jawline “Good.” 

There’s a moment of silence before Ifrit feels their hand wrap around his throat, “But if you ever leave me waiting like that again I’ll make sure you suffocate, understood?” 

Ifrit swallows and nods. He shifts the weight on his feet, feeling his cock try to kick back to life. Zephyr grins at him. With the uniform gone he had no protection from their talons. He almost hopes they’re still upset with him. 

[moonfromearth]

Karter Douglas for @akitasimblr's Mad About Dodo Challenge!!

Can't believe Dodo is getting is own bachelor challenge! Yay! After three attempts he's earned his turn as bachelor of honor 😉

Found this dude in my library from back when I made a load of sims with the Horse Ranch pack and he's actually awesome I can't believe I haven't used him for something sooner 😆

About Karter...

Age: YA Pronouns: He/Him Aspiration: Angling Ace Traits: Rancher, Outdoor Enthusiast, Freegan Likes: Red, Orange, Blue, Alternative Music, Americana Music, Rancher Music, Retro Music, Nature Enthusiasts, Optimistic Sims, Pet Enthusiasts, Discussing Hobbies, Gossip, Jokes, Silly Behavior, Country Fashion, Fishing, Fitness, Handiness, Mixology Dislikes: Focus Music, Winter Holiday Music, Pessimistic Sims, Egotistical Sims, Malicious Interactions, Complaints, Polished Fashion, Wellness, Painting

Extra Info:

Born and raised in Chestnut Ridge in the kind of area where everyone knows everyone.

Eternally optimistic. Always sees the bright side of things.

Loves being outside and wants to take trips to places like Granite Falls someday, and see places away from the desert.

Very much a "someone's trash is another's treasure" type of dude. He enjoys salvaging old items (and literal garbage) and fixing it.

It was his friends' idea for him to sign up for the bachelor challenge. Honestly, he mostly agreed for the outdoor island adventure... But the cute bachelor isn't a bad bonus... 😆

Very out of touch with current news/famous people. He had never heard of Dodo before the bachelor challenge. He's so out of touch he's probably never even heard of Leo, either! (*gasp*)

Download [Google Drive]

(He has two pieces of cc. Just a skin detail and scar. 😄)

[atsucry]

Beyond The Thorn Vines

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝐈𝐈.

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝐈.

Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

warnings: heavily ooc malleus and does not exactly follow his cannon backstory. Everything is in favour for the ff plot. Also probably ooc lillia just to make sure. I have absolutely no idea how malleus's magic works so I jst winged some stuff so...

content: Angst.

It was just like any other day. Home lessons from Lillia and spending most of his time in his room, long curtains that drape over equally tall windows, caging his room in black. Though at least he had something to look forward to today. Meeting up back at that river after sunset to play the little games you've planned with him.

He moved quietly across the room, peeling back the gossamer curtains to take a peek at the time of day. And would you look at that? It's almost sundown. The sea of trees stretched out into the distance, the rest was covered by fog. The monotonous routine was not for the young boy.

He followed the same steps to sneak out of the castle and avoid the attention of the supervisors of the castle, he followed the same route he took to escape yesterday, only hoping that the schedule had remained unchanged.

He slipped through the corridor from his room to the lower hall, being careful to not creak the door as much when he closed it. his small feet pitter-pattering on the polished tile, so shiny that it reflected the darkly painted walls that always showed Malleus an indifference towards him. Though, the nooks and crannies of the carvings in them didn't match that cleanliness of the floor beneath his feet…for some reason.

He ducked behind large antiques or pillars if he ever saw the guards patrolling whatever room he was in, careful not to accidentally be caught under their gaze.

After passing through many rooms—He finally stood at the front of the dungeon. This was how he managed to find an alternative escape—through pure curiosity. He peeled the door open to reveal a spiral staircase that only led down. He navigated through the almost labyrinth like dungeon, occasionally tripping over some fell over prison bars and chains but never injuring or scraping himself.

He wondered if he forgot the path he took to that small breach in the cell walls. Everything was starting to look the same, that or he simply didn't pay attention last time he did go through here.

A rat came through, though. He darted his eyes to where the little rodent came from, and lucky him it just so happened to be the exit he was looking for. He quickly turned back to the rat. "Thank you, but I'm sure the guards will beat you for invading such lavish property."

He squeezed his body through the bars of the cell like last time. It has gotten much easier.

He had to mentally prepare himself to go through the crawlspace again, he sucked in a breath before wriggling himself through. He felt like a worm, he crawled up the tunnel that led up. The scent of wet soil filled his senses, almost as if it had just recently rained. His eyes landed on a familiar gravel course.

Rising up, he swiped off the dust and dirt that had collected on his palms and in between his fingers. As he tread along the path, he made sure to be mindful this time about the little loose rocks that could easily trip him.

You arrived at the river a little too early, so you resorted to skipping rocks and pebbles you picked up from the river bed—or even going in yourself to see if there was any addition to the place, of course there was none but you had somehow expected better. Other than a few flatworms, there was nothing much to be seen. You could only entertain yourself by collecting all of the most 'colourful' pebbles you could find and fit them in your hand. Perhaps this could be something new to present to your play partner.

You raised your head out of the water. "This sucks…I'm bored out of my mind." pouting at yourself, looking 'round to find anything else that was interesting.

You remembered the times you would sometimes perform songs by yourself—or to the little water critters. The wind chimed as it passed by, the tree branches waving down at you.

You reached out to the edge of the land, folding your arms to pillow and rest your head upon it, sighing out of boredom. You pour out all the things you collected in front of you.

Out of the corner of your eye, a water shrew had made an appearance before you. "An interesting fellow" you think to yourself. It scurried away before you could take a second glance at it.

The sound of moving gravel caught your attention, you whipped your head up at the origin of the noise, you squinted your eyes just to see those recognizable horns jogging closer, sitting atop a breathless boy.

"How was the journey, hm?" You said in a playful manner. "You look like you had to outrun a boar." You pointed out the sweat trickling down his forehead. "What's got you in a rush?"

He came to a full stop before you, placing his hands on his knees and bowing his head to catch his breath—huffing and puffing a little.

"I haven't the faintest idea. I suppose I was just eager to meet up again."

You raised your brow slightly at that.

"You know, for someone the same age as me, you sure do talk very fancy."

"No, just a bit formally."

"Formally it is then."

Malleus caught up to his breath, finally. When he looked down to glance at you, you had quickly collected back all the small rocks in your hand and held it up to him.

"Which one is the prettiest to you?" You suddenly asked.

He paused before ultimately deciding to play along with whatever you had planned. He carefully inspected the pile of stones before picking up a green coloured one at random. rolling it around in his fingers.

"This one is the prettiest."

Your eyes lit up at his answer, it wasn't much but at least he participated.

"Is it cause it matches your eyes or what?"

An immediate silence overcame the both of you. His mouth slightly parted.

You blinked, it felt as if you've made a terrible mistake of the kind. You slowly set the pile of pebbles back in front of you to continue to observe his face. Crickets sung in the background and it made almost everything worse.

"Matches my eyes…?" He repeated, his voice a murmur. It's almost as if he was saying it to himself rather than to you. He broke out of his frozen state to continue examining the stone. "I suppose it does." He pocketed the stone. "I haven't given things like these much thought."

You tilted your head at him, puzzled. “You’ve never thought about what’s pretty?”

He shook his head slowly. “There hasn’t been much need for it. The castle is… functional, not beautiful. And I’ve been taught to value strength, wisdom, and power—things that are useful.”

"Useful things can be beautiful too." You said it like it was the obvious, which was true, by the way.

“Perhaps,” he finally said, his voice softer now. “But it’s not something I’ve been taught to see.”

"Well…I'll teach you what I know, You'll teach me what you know!" You said enthusiastically. He seemed to nod, a genuine smile now forming on his face. "That sounds like a plan."

The two of you spent the rest of the evening by the river, sharing stories, playing games, and finding beauty in the small things around you. Exposing him to the activities and games you played with the other nymphs.

This continued on for months; honestly, Malleus was surprised no one had caught on yet. He was glad that no one had. Because these meetups became the highlight of his day. He learned how to do outdoor games, like skipping stones, all that stuff. You taught him how to dance one time, which was fun.

On the eighth month of this routine, you'd have finally become friends. Each Other's first friends.

Today was just like any other ordinary day, you tried switching it up every now and then to keep things interesting. Although, today, Malleus had something else planned for the activities.

You were recalling all the events that happened to you today to Malleus before he spoke up, "Would you like to see my unique magic?"

"...Unique magic? Ah, so…magic you made up on your own, I'm assuming?"

"Exactly. You pick up on things fast." His face turned into a look of uncertainty, "Though… I am aware of its capabilities. It can be... intimidating. But I have control over it."

"Alright…show me." You said, Nodding.

"Very well, follow me. I need more space to perform it."

He took your hand in his before leading you to who knows where. "...You do know where we're going, correct?" He said, looking back at you. "Of course I do…I think. But you can trust my sense of direction."

You eventually made it to a forest clearing, your companion hummed in satisfaction as he let go of your hand, making his way to the centre to conduct his magic.

"...just to be sure, you DO think this is a safe idea?"

"...Safe enough."

Malleus’s eyes gleamed with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. He took a step back, lifting his hand towards the sky. You could feel the air grow heavier, charged with a kind of energy that made the hairs on your neck stand on end.

"Just a little warning im giving you, this will put you in a deep sleep until I end the spell."

It was only now that the realisation hit you that maybe this wasn't the greatest idea. But maybe it was too late, he was already mid-incantation. You could perhaps try interrupting the entire thing—

By then it was already too late. "Spinning wheel of fate," He started, "keep pulling the thread of disaster. As king of the abyss, I shall bestow this upon you—"

"Hey—! Don't you think it's too dangerous to perform a spell that you aren't that familiar with—"

"Fae of Maleficence."

The air seemed to freeze in place as Malleus completed the incantation. Dark, green thorn vines shot up from the ground, the earth beneath you almost crumbled due to the force.

You barely had time to react as the first vine shot toward you, then several more followed after.

**

In such a short notice, your world turned black.

Where were you?

Though, as time went on, you slowly stopped caring. It was tranquil; you accepted the deep slumber, you welcomed the serenity.

Malleus stood in the clearing, his eyes wide as he saw you encased within the thorny sphere. A wave of unease passed over him, but he quickly brushed it off.

He approached the spherical, thorny prison, running his fingers along the cracks of the vines. Taking a deep breath, he began to focus on the spell’s reversal. His voice was steady, filled with the confidence that his magic would undo the spell without any harm. “Fate’s thread, rewind... Release the one I hold in this abyss.”

The vines slowly retracted, revealing you bit by bit as you softly fell onto the grass, your body limp. He still felt that stomach dropping feeling, but he just ignored it again. He was so sure that this was just temporary.

"Psst, wake up." He whispered. "How was that for magic?" At this point he looked stupid for trying to have a conversation with an unconscious person. That was when everything started to settle in.

He quickly tried shaking your body, hoping that you made some movement, even in your sleep. You were breathing, but you gave him no response. Surely he made no mistake in the spell.

"Please wake up…" He begged, kneeling down beside your body and examining your state. "Wake up…" He pleaded once more. Trying again one more time. "Wake…up…—?"

A cold hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder, peeling him away from your body. He was flung backward, landing with a painful thud. Curling up from the shock, he looked up to see a group of Naiads surrounding you. Their presence was ominous, and he knew he was in deep trouble. These were your family, or at least, people close to you.

They knelt down to observe your condition, cradling you in their arms before turning to him. Their gaze was cold, but at the same time held a fiery rage.

"You must leave." A voice emitted from the heart of the circle.

"Leave and never walk alongside our kind again." Rising to her feet, with you in her arms. As he looked at her more, it seemed that she was your mother. His eyes widened at the realisation.

"You cretin! Magic like this isn’t for children to play with!" Another voice rang out, filled with righteous anger.

Malleus had to be careful where he tread with his words. He wanted for everything to work out, he wanted it all to be okay. Though, he knows he is the only one responsible for such a disgrace. "Please! I apologise! I didn't mean for this to be the outcome but if you allowed me more time I could potentially reverse it—!"

"You've done enough here." The mother said. "Leave." She repeated one last time. "Leave while you still have feet,"

Her voice was stern. She threatened the young boy one last time before all the others slowly got up on their feet too. Vanishing into the forest. Along with you, too.

It hit him that he missed the opportunity to defend himself just a bit more, that he could do something to fix it. To return you to your original state.

The mage finally collected himself before stumbling through the forest, luckily having left some foot tracks and backtracking it. pathetic sniffles and whines echoed throughout the trees. But even they seemed to bend and shriek away from him. The very energy that fueled his magic, feared him.

He ran, occasionally tripping over but immediately picking himself back up.

That's when he saw the river you and he used to play together at. The spot where you introduced yourself so cautiously, the second time he decided to meet you, months of building up your bond till you finally offered to be his friend. But when he got closer to just sit and reminisce for a while more, the water had suddenly flowed harsher. Almost to bat him away from itself.

He gave up.

What more could he do?

Was he really meant to be feared? all alone? It was hard enough making friends. But it’s how it goes. Living things take such time to grow and to bloom, but it could easily be destroyed by one wrong step from a careless person to crumple its beauty.

He was sick and tired. He marched his way home, back to the cold embrace. Each step carried weight that was heavier than the world of magic itself.

This time he didn't take the secret hole in the wall to sneak back in. He was too frustrated to go through all of it. He walked up the steps to the large gate and screamed for the guards to let him inside.

They obeyed fearfully. Even if he was just a child, he still held such great power over most.

His stomps echoed throughout the entire property, like a large beast was the one causing it. As he walked, he bumped into his guardian in the middle of the hallway.

"Ah! Malleus! ah…how dishevelled you are…where have you been?" Lillia asked,concern was evident in his voice.

"...Out."

"Yea…Where, exactly?"

"In the forest…"

Lillia wore a deadpanned face as he put his hands on the boy's shoulder. "Your details are lacking."

Malleus couldn't hold it back much more. A river of tears streamed down his face, It was rare for him to see malleus in such a state.

Snow then started falling from the sky.

"I just wanted to show them something interesting, I didn't know that the magic that I created—could—oh…I don't know…"

Lillia of course did not let that slip, who has Malleus been seeing?

"...Who, exactly, did you show your ability to?" He bit his lips in anticipation. What if the prince got into a tangle with some evil being—no—well that didn't follow logical sense. He wouldn't cry over hurting someone who wished harm upon him. Perhaps a little friend.

"...a kid named (Y/N)." At the mention of a name, Lillia quickly shot Malleus with an almost terrified expression. If they introduced themselves to Malleus, Malleus must've done the same. "Have you told them your name too?!?"

"Of course I have…Why wouldn't I—?"

"You can't just go around telling strangers your name! As fae, when we tell people our names that means we give them power over us!" He informed the naive boy.

Malleus recoiled slightly at Lillia's words, his tear-streaked face showing confusion and a hint of fear. The realisation of what he might have done—what he had given away—sank into him with the weight of it.

"But... Lillia, (Y/N) isn't like that," Malleus protested, his voice trembling. "They're my friend…Used to be. But they would never use my name to hurt me." Malleus felt a sting in his heart when he said the last sentence, his thoughts cruising back to what he'd done.

Lillia's stern expression softened. He knelt down to be at eye level with Malleus, his hands still resting on the boy's shoulders. "Malleus, it's not about trust. It's about understanding the consequences of your actions. Even if (Y/N) doesn't mean harm, others might. Your name is a powerful thing—our names are tied to our very essence."

Malleus sniffled, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. "But I didn't know... I just wanted to share something special with them. I wanted them to see what I could do, to know that I'm not just someone to be feared," He tried explaining. "But it just did the exact thing that I was clearly avoiding!"

He could see the turmoil in Malleus's eyes, the desperation to connect with someone.

"Oh Malleus…What to do with you…"

The young boy continued to wallow away in his room, bitter walls were the only embrace he could get other than the comfort of his own coverlet, he no longer found sunrise and sundown to be something he'd look forward to other than just another passing of time.

Decades have followed, Malleus only had to focus on improving his skill, ability, and magic. He'd known very little about the changes in the outside world other than watching hundreds of seasons pass by everyday till He'd almost fully matured. Being accepted into Night Raven College was as easy as breathing for him, being the top student and the housewarden was no easy feat for any normal individual.

In between those years, he'd eventually have forgotten about you. Although, the nuisance of feeling a strangely empty space around him bothered him to no end. He'd blame it on just lacking friends. But even then, he'd still harbour that sense of emptiness even if he was surrounded by his closest dorm mates.

Note: AGEHHAHA I finished this at 9:30. ALSO APOLOGIES AGAIN FOR ANY WRITING MISTAKES I MAY HAVE MADE😶

thank you for reading though❗️❗️💯 I WILL EDIT ALL ERRORS TOMORROW.

[hebuiltfive]

Seeking An Absolution

After returning home, Jeff goes to visit his old friend in prison to try and offer him an unexpected absolution.

Words: 4,331 Snippet below, but the full work is on AO3 here!

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

Even in the days before he’d become a resurrected ghost, Jeff Tracy had never made a habit of visiting GDF Maximum Security Facilities.

Usually his official trips took him to the organised offices of the top brass staff. There, in their comfortable spaces, wood crackled away in fireplaces, echoing around the embellished chamber, and dying embers lit up the room in a warm, homely glow. Timbered walls displayed framed medals that were regularly polished so that they shone and glinted in the firelight. Tea and coffee were customary for a meeting, much of the time being offered the moment a welcomed visitor stepped foot into the office space. He had to say, despite often dreading the tedious tasks which those meetings often proved themselves to be, Jeff found the office spaces far preferable than these dank and dreary corridors that he currently strolled along. 

The grey of one concrete wall to his right matched the grey of a stone wall to his left. There was little sustained lighting. It was a purposeful design feature so that inmates were unable to become cognisant of their surroundings. High, impenetrable walls had been built around the outer perimeter. They were so tall that, no matter where you were in the complex, parts could be seen through almost any tiny window. Combine that with the naturally sullen mood that a Maximum Security Facility brought, and the whole place was just downright depressing. It wasn’t just the atmosphere that was cold, however. Located on an island a few miles off the Scottish coast meant that, even indoors and with his thick layers of clothing wrapped around him, Jeff could feel the chill of the winter.

No-one visited this prison, let alone this specific block of the complex. To gain access, he had had to fight Casey for weeks, and that had just been for a referral alone. At one point his request had ending up reaching the World President. Some might have deemed him mad for wanting to visit this particular block. In fact the President himself had called up Jeff to ask if his signing off on such a request was a wise decision. Jeff had insisted upon it. He had to visit. There was no alternative option.

Continue reading here.

[beltransadie]

Small tidbits about my Still Into You 2ha animatic

Coz it's April, exactly one year from now was when I started completing it and I'm in the mood now. + I don't think I made a proper one + it won the twitter poll

Check it out if you're interested... or not! I just want to dump my thoughts and fun facts that I thought of while making this.

To preface this, check them out if you haven't seen it yet: (Still Into You & Please Don't Leave Me)

If you've been hanging around my blog for a while, it's kinda evident that I did post a promo post for Still Into You back in January 2023. And that first part does have an in-depth explanation about what it covers (which is from the start to the first chorus).

If you're wondering why: TL;DR I can't work on An Act of Kindness coz I was back home from school for vacation and I thought of the idea during a trip.

Anyway, I ramble. Time to get to the actual discussion.

(spoilers!!) The Actual Discussion

Making the rest of Still Into You, unlike Mo Ran's feelings for CWN, was actually just straightforward. I already knew that it'd cover the rest of the book, given that I intentionally focused heavily on book 1 while making part 1.

Like part 1, part 2 was that type of animatic that just naturally flowed during the storyboarding and rough sketch process. The whole animatic is divided into three phases which covers the following: Book 1, Book 2 and 3, and lastly the Epilogue.

Book 1 I've already discussed in an earlier post here but I did find this interesting tidbit I wrote to my cousin:

Anyways the discussion:

Yeah I really wish I have a funny image to put here. I'm really enjoying looking back at my stuff and seeing my initial plans though.

Order at which I made each part.

One thing of note (and actually a common oversight I experience while doing storyboards coz I don't do timings) was that I storyboarded the frames when the vocals started and forgot the timings in between.

So I kinda had to fill the parts between part 1 and 2 last-ish? (don't really remember the proper timings).

Oh, oh! And another fun fact:

Still Into You Part 2 (Rough Draft)

Part 2 was initially done on my tablet in CSP so there's a whole different and rougher version of it. (pls lower the volume if you're wearing earphones)

Funnily enough, this took me like one sitting to finish and a whole lot of sessions to clean up. I do like this process though given that, around the time I drew this, I started leaning heavily into animation and prioritizing getting my thoughts across without care for cleanliness. (Something I felt held me back too much while making Please Don't Leave Me).

In fact, there are some obvious frames that I didn't really bother polishing up (mostly because they're too hard for me or they just flash by quickly). A glaring example is this frame from the third part:

Another fun fact about the scene where TXJ shows CWN the plant he's been raising is it's actually inspired off of a doodle I made for someone in the Two Lifetimes CSE back in April 16 2023.

I just really think that it's super adorable for them. Mo Ran in the the epilogue section alternates between TXJ and 2.0.

Aside from the plant, TXJ also appears in this frame which is inspired from one of the extras. Another silly intentional decision I did is to have him pour alcohol onto a cup and drink from the bottle.

Meanwhile 2.0 appears here:

The one on the left is also from (you guessed it) an extra! It's based from an offhand mention that CWN makes in one of them. (Let me know what your guesses are haha)

I kinda just jumped into the 3rd half of the song, huh? I hope my ramblings aren't too much! I just wanna let it flow naturally.

Returning to the topic of the storyboard, I really only had a rough idea of what I wanted for the 3rd half. The references to the extras and even Goutou's appearance just came when I was already putting it into frame. Like, this was what I initially had in mind for the 2nd chorus to the end.

I think one of the notable differences is that I initially planned on doing the half MR half CWN screen transition the same way i did with chorus 1 and 2 but decided against it. In retrospect, I think it fits a lot because both aren't divided anymore.

Something about the second verse + chorus of the song

Like in chorus 1 and chorus 3, this section of the song takes on a darker tone since it covers book 2 going into book 3. It's a lot to talk about so I'm gonna select a couple that I personally like that's worth mentioning and leave the rest to the viewers to guess.

Also sorry not sorry for those who got spoiled by the animatic lmao.

The confession scene

Another fun fact: The confession scene in Still Into You and Please Don't Leave Me are intentionally connected through the color palette.

It's just that Still Into You takes a dump at how it treats it. Yes, the stick figures are intentional. It adds to the funny and tbh Still Into You really is just a feel good animatic. The comedy also serves as a whiplash to the angst hell that is the chorus 🥰.

(Insert obligatory CWN running at a tree meme here)

My Favorite 2ha Moment

Gotta insert my favorite chapter here (ch 184) which I think is one of 2ha's peaks because it resolves CWN's doubts about MR's feelings all this times.

And I'm just soo glad I could incorporate it in an animatic because it's so important to me. AND Like, 'yknow, I think it echoes the song very well because guess what MR tells CWN then?

“It has always been you."

That one frame before the chorus

There's like this moment before the second chorus starts where MR tells CWN something. I wanted it to echo ch 207 where MR felt the pressure of having to reveal that he actually is reborn and has memories of his past life.

If this were animated I'd have had MR match the song and tell CWN "I'm still into you".

Anyways, here's the frame before it zooms in. Physically it's still at ch 207, but I wanted the shadows to imply what happens next which is the chorus.

Other Bonus stuff

Ran out of stuff I wanna gush about so Imma talk about cut content.

XM and the MHX twins are supposed to have more frames (I didn't include it because it felt like it had too much energy)

2. Ling'er and the village ranwan visits during farm arc is also supposed to make an appearance

3. I forgot to animate the butterflies

4. I was supposed to polish the sequence at 2:41 - 2:51 at one point.

5. Fuck ow

6. CWN was supposed to glomp MR at the reunion scene

7. You and I

anyways go watch it

[starrieisdelusional]

when your servant is a little shite

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

Then Merlin looks at Gaius, who’s sitting there, eyeing him as if he knows what Merlin is going to do.

‘Merlin, no’

‘Merlin yes’

or

Merlin tests the limits of Arthur’s patience.

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

alternatively, ao3 link

original prompt

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5 (you're here), PART 6

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

Merlin does not want to get sacked.

Sure, he always complains about chores like mucking out the stables and polishing Arthur’s armor, and spends the previous few weeks testing his theories out with varying outcomes, but it’s not like he actually wants to stop being Arthur’s manservant.

Obviously, it’s not like it’s the worst thing that could happen to him.

…

It is the worst thing that could happen to him.

Merlin could not imagine a life without Arthur. Though if there were ever a time where Arthur will indeed sack him, Merlin could watch Arthur from the shadows like he always does, but literally this time. But Merlin would rather stay as close as possible to his King. Thank you very much.

Besides, he can’t imagine Arthur actually sacking him; Arthur would never do that to him. Hopefully. Because what Merlin is about to do may actually make those fears come true.

Merlin observes Arthur like a hawk, and the girl sitting beside him is flirtatiously looking into Arthur’s eyes. Merlin felt his eye twitch.

It’s been the third day.

They’re welcoming a princess from Camelot’s alliances or something; Merlin forgot her name despite being mentioned often, and the kingdom she’s from. Maybe because he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

She’s so annoying, pestering Arthur every chance she gets. She’s not even that pretty anyway; the only saving grace are the jewelry she wears. And she didn’t even work for it!

The moment she arrived, she was immediately head over heels for Arthur. Tripping over herself so Arthur can catch her. Pouring water on Arthur’s clothes so she can touch him. Dragging Arthur to discreet places—oh, Merlin can go on and on. Every time it happens, Merlin wants to light her on fire.

Merlin is not jealous. He just doesn’t like people touching Arthur without his permission.

When Arthur was done delivering his speech, the princess squeals excitedly, and Merlin has to cover his ears. “That was such an amazing speech, Arthur! I’m so proud of you,” she lunges at Arthur’s arm, and Arthur (Merlin watches in disbelief) actually smiles at her.

“Thank you,” he grits, shifting to the edge of his seat. No way. Arthur is actually aroused by this tacky-looking noble!?

Merlin finds himself cringing at the discovery. Irritated when the princess smiles, squishing her face on Arthur’s arm. Merlin couldn’t find it in himself to tolerate her like he tolerated Princess Mithian and Princess Elena, her only personality is just liking Arthur!

When her hand goes to touch Arthur’s chest for the third time that evening, Merlin has had enough. Who cares if Merlin gets sacked? He would rather get exiled than let this cow marry his king.

So when the princess tries to get her grabby hands under Arthur’s shirt, Merlin immediately goes between them. Separating them from each other. The princess looks at him in annoyance.

“Merlin?” Arthur spluttered, probably annoyed that Merlin just ruined his chances at shagging her.

“What on earth are you doing, you servant?” The princess spat, batting his hands away from her.

“My lady,” he greets her, and then he turns to Arthur, “my king.” The court is starting to glance at them. Shite, he hadn’t planned this far.

He knows that what he’s about to do will very likely piss off the court. But it’s not like he can straight up tell the princess to ‘stop touching Arthur, you hag!’, and slaps her face, he’ll be pointed with swords in under a minute!

So Merlin looks at Arthur instead, and at the crown sitting on top of his head, that will do. Before both Arthur and the princess can start prattling about how he just ruined their intimate moment, Merlin takes Arthur’s crown and swaps it with the servant hat that he’s wearing right now.

And suddenly the room is silent, everyone looking at him. Arthur just looks at him, face neutral, waiting for an explanation. He really wishes he didn’t have to embarrass him again, but Merlin really can’t stand her, he had to do something, and he wanted to do this for a while.

“This crown is really heavy, my lord, how could you wear it for hours? No wonder you have neck problems; I thought you were joking.”

“Do you have something you want to say, Merlin?” Arthur asks him, waiting

“Hm, I don’t know my lord... Oh, wait, actually,” he said as he raised his servant hat before dropping it on Arthur’s head and fitting it on his head.

“Now we match,” Merlin says in satisfaction. He couldn’t help but smile at the flocks of really saturated feathers sitting on Arthur’s head.

He would be howling right now if the whole court isn’t watching him. This is it, Merlin thinks to himself. This is the reason Merlin got sacked, because he couldn’t stand seeing Arthur marry a spoiled princess, and probably canceling Camelot’s alliance in the process.

Arthur stares at Merlin for a while as the court watches with bated breath. Merlin thought he was going to be sent to the dungeons before Arthur started giggling, supporting himself on the table. Merlin asks Lancelot for silent help. He sits with the knights, sitting just a bit further from Arthur. Merlin is too scared to look at Gaius' face.

When Merlin and Lancelot had devised a team plan to help Merlin escape with head gestures and eye movements, Arthur grabbed Merlin’s hand to stop him from moving. Shite, he's so going to the dungeons now.

“You’re so stupid, Merlin,” Arthur giggles, adjusting his hat.

While Merlin devises a new plan with Lancelot to escape from Arthur’s death grip, Merlin fails to notice Arthur's movement when he takes off one of his rings. He realizes a little too late when Arthur is already taking his finger.

“Arthur, what are you doing?” Merlin asks this time, ironic how it’s Arthur who would usually say that.

“I like seeing you in my crown,” he starts, looking at Merlin with pride. Merlin’s heart almost leapt out of his chest “I want you to wear this,” Arthur explains. Then, Arthur proceeded to slot his ring onto his finger. stroking his hand.

Merlin is so flabbergasted he forgot how to speak. He must look so ridiculous right now, mouth opening and closing like a fish, crown slotted imperfectly on his head, standing like an idiot in front of the royal court, but most importantly, wearing Arthur’s ring.

Holy shite, Merlin thought, bells ringing in his ears. He is going to faint; this is too much even for him. He is actually going to faint.

“You’re mental!” The princess shouts at them, and they both turn to her, forgetting that she was there “You’re doing this for a servant!?” She screams, her hands clenching so tightly that it must hurt.

“He’s more to me than a servant,” Arthur says to her, before continuing to feast on his meal. The princess immediately rose from her chair, angrily striding towards her chambers. She left the next day with her knights in tow.

Merlin sighed in relief when he heard that the Kingdom hadn’t canceled their alliances. Unconsciously rubbing the ring on his finger.

[sowoozoo-7]

Love, Lust & Litigation | Ch 1

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader x Namjoon

Genre: lawyer!AU, coworkers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut

Rating: M (18+) whole fic, this chapter PG-13 (for language lol)

Warnings: some swearing in this chapter, nothing explicit

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Unfortunately, you have developed a massive crush on your new boss. Even more unfortunately, your equally attractive coworker is also harboring massive crush on your boss. AKA Jungkook and reader both pine for big, sexy brain Namjoon. 

A/N: Phew! Here she is! The first chapter of my first fic. This has been slowly chewing away at my brain for the last few months, and I finally decided to say fuck it and write it. I don't know anything about law or lawyers other than what I've seen from movies and read in books so I'm sure I've gotten something wrong, but whatever, it's my own alternate made up universe.

Anyway, I’m new to all this — longtime reader, first-time poster — so I’d love feedback if you have any! Hope you like it ~

mlist | ch 1 | ch 2 | ch 3 | ch 4 | ch 5 | interlude | ch 6 | ch 7 | epilogue

Two hours into your new job at Bang and Associates, and you’ve already made a fool of yourself.

The first couple of hours went smoothly. Check-in with HR was all standard forms, waivers, and NDAs, and the view from your new office is killer. 

Though your new boss and the other associate on the litigation team are at court for the morning, you get to meet two of the paralegals on your team, Jimin Park and Hoseok Jung. They look like they just stepped out of a menswear ad, in their fitted suits and slicked back hair. You'd normally be wary of office workers who look a little too put together, but you get the sense that they’re going to be good coworkers from the few minutes you spend talking to them, both good-natured and quick to share a laugh. 

It’s when they’re giving you a tour of the office that your heel slips on a set of marble stairs and you find yourself briefly experiencing flight. You decide flying is overrated when you land on your ass and bounce down several steps. One of your shoes takes its own trip and lands a few yards away. You sit on the steps, frozen for a minute, with your bare foot just out there for the world to see. 

“Oh my god,” says Hoseok as he rushes down to the step where you landed. “Are you alright?” 

You’re quiet for a moment while you deliberate whether or not you’re going to cry. It’s inevitable that you’ll cry in front of your coworkers one day, but looking around, you see everyone else in the atrium glancing over at the absolute idiot who fell down the stairs on her first day. 

Not the day to cry, you decide. First impressions and all that. At least you wore a pantsuit today and not a dress.

“I think I’m okay,” you say with a rueful smile. “Just a bruised ego.”

Jimin retrieves your shoe and hands it to you with a sparkle of laughter in his eyes. “Another one bites the dust." It’s not malicious, you don’t think.

“He means that you’re not the first to slip down the stairs,” says Hoseok. “We think the janitors are polishing them extra to get back at all the asshole lawyers.” 

You limp for the rest of the office tour. 

***

You get sent to the courthouse after finishing the brief admin in the office to shadow your new boss, the firm’s superstar. 

Namjoon Kim is mesmerizing.

You have heard of his reputation — how could you not? Top of his class with a winning streak unmatched in the industry — but you have yet to see him in action. 

He lives up to his reputation. 

You sit at the back of the courtroom, trying not to put too much weight on your bruised ass, watching as he delivers his closing statement.

His voice is deep and measured, drawing everyone to the edge of their seat to hear every twist to the argument he’s crafting. You pity the opposition. They went first with their closing statement and now they’re squirming in their seats as Namjoon takes down every argument, point by point. The jury hangs on to his every world. 

Maybe it’s the way he carries himself, with a quiet confidence and authority, maybe it’s that he’s built like a tree and looks like a dream in his pinstripe suit. Whatever it is, you get the feeling that working under a beautiful genius is going to be some kind of Dantean torture. 

“Thank you, Your Honor.” 

You blink, realizing it’s over, and you watch as he goes to sit. Silence hangs in the court room in the brief second it takes the courtroom to snap out of their Namjoon-induced daze. The room shuffles as everyone shifts back in their seats. The closing formalities continue, with the judge sending the jury to deliberations. 

“Court is adjourned.” 

The room rumbles with a flurry of activity as everyone goes to exit. You hurry to catch Namjoon — you want to introduce yourself to your new boss as soon as possible — but you get lost in the shuffle of people filing out. By the time you catch up to him outside, he’s giving a press interview on the steps of the courthouse. 

You wait on the outskirts of the small crowd that’s gathered. Deja-vu hits as you watch the reporters lean in to hang on to his every word. He takes the questions with grace, and even a little humor, and smiles at a joke one of the reporters makes. 

Dear lord. He has dimples.

“Spectacular, isn’t he?” 

A young man stands next to you, smirking as if he knows how much you’re fangirling over your new boss. You recognize him as the second attorney at the defendant’s counsel table. The remaining member of the litigation team. 

If you weren’t so preoccupied with Namjoon, you’d be mooning over this man instead. His just-messy-enough-to-show-he-doesn’t-care hair frames his face in waves. An eyebrow piercing and a lip piercing glint in the late morning sun. Tattoos decorate the back of one of his hands. He would look like a punk kid up to no good, but you can the tell the suit he’s wearing costs more than your monthly rent. Jesus. Is everyone in the office just a walking GQ campaign?

“Excuse me?” 

“Namjoon,” he says with a smile that changes his expression entirely, from a little rakish to boyish in its delight. “I call it the Namjoon Effect. No one’s immune. I think it’s the dimples.” He puts out his hand to shake yours. “Jungkook Jeon. I’m th—“

“The other associate on the litigation team. I know.” You shake his hand and introduce yourself. “Looking forward to working with you.” 

“Ah, I thought it was you. Jimin texted me to look out for you today.” 

The impromptu press conference breaks up and Namjoon ushers his client down the stairs. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you,” says Jungkook, flying down the steps. You follow at a slower pace, the twinge in your hip reminding you of your fall earlier that day. Still, you try to strike a confident stride in your heels. First impressions and all. 

Namjoon pats the roof of the private car he has bundled his client into and straightens as Jungkook claps him on the shoulder. 

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about any type of evidence to the press.” 

Namjoon raises an eyebrow. “The PR team said that. I didn’t agree to anything. Besides, it’s the same evidence we presented at the trial, just in a different light. Even if we have a less-than-favorable verdict, we’ll still have the public on our side.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Why do you even bring me with you?” He sees you and gestures you over. “Namjoon, may I present your latest lackey.” 

“I resent that,” you say, mock-frowning and pointing a finger at Jungkook. “But you’re not wrong.”

You introduce yourself to Namjoon and shake his hand. It’s warm and firm. You hope yours isn’t cold and clammy. “Pleasure to be working with you.” 

“Pleasure’s all mine. I’ve heard great things from your former boss,” he says with a smile. There go the dimples again. He glances at his watch. “Shall we discuss our caseload over lunch?” 

You feel a little thrill at being included in the “our.” Bang and Associates have a reputation for working on some of the most high-profile cases in the city and you’re ready to dig your greedy little fingers into the cases. 

“Cat’s Pajamas?” asks Jungkook. He doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll drive.”

Namjoon sighs as Jungkook turns to walk towards the garage. “He always weasels his way into lunches. I swear he’s a never-ending pit,” he says with a note of fondness for the younger man. 

Cat’s Pajamas is an airy bistro just a few blocks away from the offices. There’s a sizable lunchtime crowd, filled with self-important business people taking their clients out to lunch. Jimin and Hoseok meet your group at the restaurant. 

You wince at you sit down, rubbing at the side of your hip. The bruise you expected from the fall is developing faster than you thought. 

“Are you okay?” Namjoon asks. 

He and Jungkook look at you with concern.

You wave them off. “Just a bruise.” 

Jimin shakes his head. “The marble stairs have claimed their newest victim.” 

“Ah,” says Jungkook with a knowing nod. “I almost broke my wrist when I fell down those stairs a couple months ago. It’s practically a rite of passage at Bang and Associates at this point.”

“Looks like you’re already part of the team,” says Namjoon, lifting his water glass in a toast.

***

The rest of the day passes quickly.

You return to your office to find a stack of documents already on your desk, with a sticky note from Hoseok on top. Welcome to the team!!!! it says, with a big looping smiley face next to it.

You slip out of your heels and bring your legs up under you as you settle into your desk, a routine study position that has followed you from college through to your professional life. There’s nothing you like more than finding your way in the maze of paperwork and laying out your trail in court. You lose yourself in the legalese, getting familiar with an ongoing case that Namjoon mentioned over lunch. 

Jungkook pulls you into his office when you’re returning from the bathroom to strategize about the case. His office is exactly the same as yours, with enough space for two guest chairs, a large desk and a set of bookshelves crammed with leather-bound law books. And, your inner petty competitor is pleased to see, the view is also almost exactly the same. Of course, he has a slight advantage because he’s worked here longer, but you have the same job title, the same office. You’re almost on even footing. You’ve noticed a competitive streak in him, and you’re excited to play against it. It’s only going to make you a better lawyer. 

The “quick chat” turns into an hour-long discussion and you decide by the time you leave his office that you’ll head home at normal close of business hours. You’ll be staying late anyway as your caseload grows. 

You’re surprised to find a brown paper bag on your desk, one of the simple gift bags you can find at the drug store. Inside, you find a get well soon card with a cartoon of a man on a hospital bed in a full-body cast with a thermometer coming out of his mouth and an ice pack on his head. Inside, it reads: 

Even though your welcome to Bang and Associates was a painful one, I’m very happy to have you on the team and I look forward to working with you. Now you know to avoid the stairs :) 

-Namjoon

Inside the bag you find a bruise balm and a travel size pack of ibuprofen. Warmth spreads through you, pleased at the gift. There’s another layer to that warmth, a feeling that you don’t want to examine too closely, because he’s your boss, and you suspect (no, you know) it's inappropriate to feel that towards your boss. 

Later that night, though, as you’re applying the balm to the colorful bruise on your hip, you can’t help but think of his dimpled smile.

***

“You’re babying me.” 

You’ve won your first case for Bang and Associates. Your client, a rich young widow who married an older man for love, was the sole inheritor to his massive fortune. His children, some older than the widow, were upset that they got nothing in the will. As you worked with the client, you got the sense that she was genuinely sad about her late husband’s passing. Not that it made any difference. She was a paying client, and you had to represent her regardless, but it made rooting for her easier.

“I thought it was for sure a trick case and that there would be something to trip me up in the prenup, but it was so straightforward.” You’re in the elevator with Namjoon heading up to the office. He was present at the trial, to keep an eye on you to make sure you lived up to the promise of your initial interview.

He shrugs. “It’s nice to start off with a win. You’d be surprised with how many people don’t prepare or get wrapped up in how things should be and completely flounder.” He pats your shoulder as the elevator dings open. “You did good today. Good prep, good execution.” 

He nods a goodbye and heads to his office without looking back. You head to yours at a slower clip, your shoulder burning where he touched you. You feel warm overall anyway, knowing you did a good job, but the praise still feels good. A little too good, maybe. 

Over the next month, the cases get harder and harder, and you have to pull out the most obscure references from your time in law school. You start spending more and more time at the office, racking up insane amounts of billable hours. You have a permanent cup of coffee at your desk and you change into your fuzzy slippers you brought from home to give your feet a break from heels whenever a new case file lands on your desk for review. 

At least you’re not the only one pulling crazy hours. The rest of the litigation team often stays late. You fall in quickly with the guys, cracking jokes over the Nespresso machine you all hover around. They were wary of you at first, an unknown entity coming into the equation, but you proved worth after the second night you stayed late and cracked the key piece of a case buried in ancient tax laws. They treated you to drinks at the local watering hole afterward. The biggest reward though, was getting a small dimpled smile and a thumbs up from Namjoon before he called it a night.

It helps that your boss stays late with the rest of the team. Every time you come to him with a tricky case, without fail, he gives brilliant insight or a nudge in the right direction, giving you advice on where to look for the answer.  And when he goes to his fancy client dinners, he’ll always bring something back to the office when he inevitably stops by the office on his way home. You can’t say no to a good takeaway creme brûlée. 

One Friday afternoon, Namjoon pulls everyone into a meeting a half hour before close of business. “It’s been a tough few weeks. You’re all going home at five today.” He holds up a hand when the team starts to protest. “I’m going to be at Silver Spoon for happy hour. Drinks are on me. You don’t have to come, but you can’t stay here.” 

“I have too much work to do,” Jimin says with a pout. 

“I’m firing you if you don’t leave at five on the dot.” The good-natured threat falls easily from Namjoon’s lips. “That goes for all of you. Wrap up what you need to.” 

You spend the rest of the time cataloguing what you need to finish Monday morning. Usually you’d work Saturdays too, but with the promise of an early weekend, you decide everything can wait until open of business Monday. Well. Maybe you’ll work on that memo from home over the weekend, but everything else on your to-do list can wait. 

You join Jungkook and Hoseok at the elevator bank three minutes before the hour. 

“Think he’s gonna make it?” asks Hoseok with a laugh.

You check your watch. “Two minutes left. He’ll make it right at five.” 

“He’ll be two minutes over,” says Jungkook.

“I think five over,” says Hoseok. 

“Loser buys the nachos,” you say. They both shake on it.

Jimin runs into the elevator bank just as the clock ticks over to five. You pump your fist in victory while the other two groan. 

Jimin leans over to catch his breath. “I thought I wasn’t going to make it.” 

He straightens just as Namjoon rounds the corner from his office.

“Glad I’m not losing any of the team today.”

“And I get two sets of nachos,” you say, getting into the elevator behind the rest and pressing the button for the ground floor.

“Hobi gets the nachos. I’ll get the wings,” says Jungkook.

Jimin looks back and forth between you two, a confused pout on his face. “What did I miss?”

***

Silver Spoon is all leather and dark wood. Namjoon leads the way to a large booth in the back, waving to the bartender behind the gleaming wooden bar. 

“You know everyone,” comments Jungkook as you all pile into the booth. It ends up with Namjoon in the middle, you and Jungkook flanking him, Hoseok next to you, and Jimin next to Jungkook. 

“I’ve been working in this area a long time. It pays to get to know the people working at your favorite haunts.” 

Namjoon drinks whiskey, neat. Junkook orders a pint of the house craft beer. Hoseok has a glass of red wine, and Jimin has a double straight vodka. You get an elderflower spritz, light and refreshing in the unusually hot fall afternoon. 

The conversation deteriorates to work talk, as it usually does among coworkers. The nachos and wings follow the drinks, and everyone digs in. They’re good, just the right amount of elevated to make the price worth it, but not so fancy that the bar food is unrecognizable. 

Silver Spoon fills up as the finance bros and hedge fund managers who work in the area trickle in. You recognize a few former coworkers, and you raise your glass to them in a toast when they wave hello, but you don’t attempt to engage further. You don’t care to reconnect with them. The cutthroat, backstabbing environment at your last firm is what made you leave in the first place. Bang and Associates hires ambitious lawyers, but fosters a workplace that manages to keep the ones that are ambitions without the cattiness, encouraging a collaborative work environment over individual hotshot lawyers. You're settling into your new workplace just fine, thank you.

Namjoon gets a call shortly after the third round of drinks, and Jungkook and Jimin shimmy out of the booth to let him out so he can take the call in private. 

Hoseok picks up where the conversation left off, brainstorming where to start to research a tricky case. Jimin interrupts him before he can get a full sentence out.

“Uuuugh,” he says, dragging his hands down his cheeks. “Can we talk about anything but work?” 

“Please,” you say. 

Jimin looks at you with a mischievous grin and pops his chin onto his hand. He calls your name in a singsongy voice. “Are you seeing anyone?” 

You snort into your drink. “Do I look like I have time for a relationship?” 

“It’s amazing what you can get up to in our limited free time if you have some determination,” mutters Hoseok with a sidelong glance at Jimin. 

“Jimin is slowly working his way through the office,” explains Jungkook.

Jimin crosses his heart with his finger and holds a hand up. “All above-board with HR, of course.” 

“Doesn’t mean you haven’t left behind a trail of broken hearts,” says Hoseok. 

“They all knew what they were getting into when they consented to the relationship.” 

“Or lack thereof,” says Jungkook with a snort. 

Jimin turns to look at him, eyebrow raised. “Speaking of lack of relationships, still hung up on Namjoon?” 

Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “Stop, I’m not—“

“Ever since he broke up with his ex-girlfriend, he’s had this massive crush on Namjoon,” Jimin tells you.

“Shut up!” 

“We all see how you look at him,” says Hoseok, not unkindly. “Stars in your eyes when you think he’s not looking.”

So you hadn’t been imagining that. 

Jungkook’s only response is to chug the rest of his pint. 

“I don’t blame you,” you say, then freeze as three heads whip around to look at you. “What?” you ask, voice squeaky.

“Not you too,” groans Jimin. 

“What?” You hope the heat creeping up your face isn’t noticeable in the low bar lighting. “I have eyes. He’s attractive. You can’t deny that.” 

“And smart,” says Jungkook morosely. 

“And kind and he’s a good leader. I’m surprised you guys aren’t also harboring secret crushes,” you say, as if they’re the idiots for not having a massive crush on their boss. In reality, it’s terrifying to say these things out loud, everything you’ve been thinking over the past month you’ve been working at Bang and Associates. 

“Unfortunately, I’m straight,” says Hoseok. 

“And disgustingly in love with his fiancée,” sneers Jimin. “It’s actually sickening to see them together. She’s super pretty and an amazing dancer — you’ll see at the holiday party— and you really want to hate her but she’s also really nice on top of all that.” He takes the rest of his drink in one shot without a wince. You’d think he was sober if you hadn’t seen him down his vodka doubles like they were water. “And I’m not straight, but I know a lost cause when I see one. Namjoon’s practically married to his work. There are other men and women still waiting to be added to my bedpost.” He waggles his eyebrows in an exaggerated imitation of a leery cartoon character. 

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” 

“Thought I don’t know about Namjoon.” Jimin continues like he didn’t hear Jungkook’s comment. “I don’t think he’s married, because I’ve never seen a ring, and I’ve never seen him flirting or taking anyone home after drinks. No dates to company parties.” 

“Maybe he’s asexual,” says Hoseok. 

“That would be a shame because I bet he’s got a big d—“

Jungkook interrupts Jimin with an elbow to his side. He sits up straight, and you follow his line of sight to see Namjoon coming back to the table. They move out of the booth to give him his spot back in the middle. 

“Sorry about that. What are we talking about?” asks Namjoon as he settles in, just an inch closer than he had been sitting before. The intoxicating spicy smell of sandalwood that you’ve come to associate with Namjoon fills your nose and you suppress the urge to take a deep breath. 

You and Jungkook exchange guilty glances over the table. Jimin heaves a dramatic sigh, thankfully drawing Namjoon’s attention away from you two. 

“We were just bemoaning our single status. Not Hoseok, of course.”

“I’d be surprised if you all have time to date, what with the hours we’ve been pulling.” 

“How do you balance it all? Work, a social life, dating?” The question falls from your lips and you wish you could shove it back in your mouth. Jungkook kicks you from the other side of the table, and Jimin looks impressed that you actually asked the question. 

Namjoon lets out a hollow laugh. “I’m the wrong person to ask.” 

You exchange glances with Jungkook again. Does this mean he’s single? 

Before anyone can ask a follow-up question, a group of lawyers from the (mostly) friendly competition approach the table to make small talk. You want to shoo them away like pigeons so you can continue the conversation, but you busy yourself with your drink instead. 

Your coworkers disperse soon after, with Hoseok slipping away to go home first, red-faced and quiet. Namjoon talks to a group of his law school classmates by the bar. 

As the evening progresses, it’s painfully obvious to you now that Jungkook is mooning over Namjoon. You’d had your suspicions before, but after the conversation from earlier, the not-so-subtle glances make you cringe a little. You hope you’re not that obvious too. 

Not that Namjoon’s presence stops him from chatting up sone of the women who join your table. They work in the advertising firm a few floors below you, and you’ve gotten friendly with them over the past few weeks. The petite woman with the swishy blonde hair touches him a little more than necessary. 

You and Jimin exchange looks when you both clock her hand on Jungkook’s bicep for the third time in as many minutes. 

Jungkook and the blonde head out together not too long after. Good for him, you think, not getting so hung up on Nmajoon that he can’t focus on a different pretty face for the night.

When it’s just you and Jimin left at the booth, he leans in a little close. “What do you say you and me head out?” 

You laugh in his face. “I’m not going to sleep with you, Jimin.” 

He takes it in stride, and stands with a wink. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.” 

He blows you a kiss before zeroing in on one of the finance bros who’s been looking over at your table for the past hour. He won’t know what hit him once Jimin is done with him. 

You don’t bother trying to pull someone at the bar, choosing instead to slip away without any fanfare. Though you’re no stranger to one-night stands, you’re looking forward to sleeping in and you can’t be bothered with the logistics of a hookup. Tonight, you have a date with your bed, and your bed only. 

The air has a bite to it as you step out of the bar, and you pull your coat around you as you hurry to the curb to your Uber. You settle into the back of the car as the driver pulls out into traffic. 

You can’t help but feel kinship with Jungkook, what with both of you lusting after the same ill-advised man. The city lights blur by and you let your eyes unfocus.

You wonder what would happen if you were the last three people left in the world. Would he go for you or Jungkook? In your buzzed state of mind, you think you really wouldn't mind sharing.

©sowoozoo-7 2023

Please do not copy or repost. I do not crosspost anywhere else.

[cynic-spirit]

Orchid Garden v

When Yn told John about her upcoming trip to New York for the conference, he listened attentively, nodding as she spoke. Her excitement about the opportunity was evident, but a flicker of concern crossed John’s face when she mentioned staying at a small motel.

John's instinct was to protect and provide for Yn in every way possible. The idea of her staying in a motel, even if only for two days, didn't sit well with him. His experiences had taught him that motels, while convenient, often fell short in terms of security and comfort. He knew that with her being out of town, ensuring her safety and comfort was paramount.

“You shouldn’t stay in a motel,” John said, his tone carrying a hint of finality. “There are better options.”

Yn smiled gently at his concern. “It’s just two days, John, and I’ll be busy with the conference. It’s not a big deal.”

But John wasn’t convinced. His mind immediately began assessing alternatives. The Continental, the luxury hotel with an impeccable reputation for both comfort and security, came to mind. It wasn’t just a grand establishment; it was a place where he knew the standards were high, and the security was top-notch.

“Let me make the arrangements,” John said firmly. “I’ll book a room at The Continental.”

Yn raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by his insistence. “John, you don’t have to—”

“I insist,” John interrupted gently but decisively. “It’s important to me that you’re comfortable and safe. Let me handle it.”

The conversation ended, but John’s resolve remained. As soon as Yn left to continue her preparations, John picked up his phone and began making the arrangements.

He contacted the reservations desk at The Continental, ensuring that Yn would have a room that met his exacting standards. John was meticulous in his request: a suite with a view, located on a high floor for added privacy, and equipped with additional security measures. He also asked for special amenities that would make her stay as comfortable as possible, including a selection of her favorite teas and a bouquet of fresh flowers.

John’s meticulous attention to detail extended beyond just the room itself. He made sure that the hotel was aware of Yn’s arrival time and provided them with a brief description of her, emphasizing that her comfort and safety were top priorities.

When John confirmed the booking, he felt a sense of satisfaction. He knew that Yn might initially question his decision, but he was confident that she would appreciate the gesture once she experienced the luxury and safety of The Continental.

Later, when Yn received the details of her new accommodation, she was pleasantly surprised. The transition from a small motel to a five-star hotel was significant, and she couldn’t help but feel touched by John’s consideration.

As John looked over the completed arrangements, he felt a sense of peace knowing that Yn would be well cared for during her trip. His protective nature and love for her were reflected in every decision he made, and he hoped that the comfort and safety of The Continental would provide her with a pleasant experience, leaving her free to focus on the conference and enjoy her time in New York.

When Yn arrived in New York, she was greeted by a chauffeur holding a sign that read “Mrs. Wick.” The sight of the luxury car and the professional demeanor of the chauffeur set the tone for what was to come. As they drove through the bustling streets of New York, Yn couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation.

The car pulled up in front of The Continental, and as Yn stepped out, she was immediately struck by the grandeur of the building. It wasn’t just a hotel; it was a monument to opulence, its architecture a mix of classic elegance and modern sophistication. The sheer scale and the polished façade made her wonder if she had just entered a ten-star establishment.

A bellhop approached her, taking her luggage with practiced ease, and directed her towards the front desk. The lobby was a vast expanse of marble and gold, with a grand chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The atmosphere was serene, yet there was an unmistakable air of exclusivity.

As she approached the front desk, a man with a badge reading “Charon” greeted her with a bow of his head. His demeanor was one of deep respect and deference. “Mrs. Wick, it’s an honor to have you here,” he said with a warm, respectful tone.

Yn felt a strange mixture of curiosity and discomfort as she noticed the subtle yet persistent glances from the staff and other guests. It was as though she was being observed with a mixture of reverence and awe, an unsettling feeling that she couldn't quite shake.

As Charon guided her to her room, she noticed the staff’s respectful nods and discreet but attentive service. It was clear that her presence at The Continental carried a weight that went beyond the ordinary. The realization dawned on her that John’s influence extended far beyond what she had initially understood. His name and reputation seemed to command a respect that affected even the highest echelons of society.

When Charon finally opened the door to her room, Yn was overwhelmed. The suite was nothing short of a penthouse, with panoramic views of the city skyline. The room was tastefully decorated with luxurious furnishings, a grand piano in one corner, and a private balcony that offered a breathtaking view of the city lights.

Feeling a surge of gratitude and curiosity, Yn decided to call John. She dialed his number, and after a few rings, he answered.

“John, I’ve reached here,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the awe she felt.

“Do you like it?” John asked, his tone laced with genuine concern.

“Like it? John, it’s a luxury hotel!” she exclaimed. “This place is incredible.”

“Is it comfortable?” he asked, his voice calm and reassuring.

“John, it is. You didn’t have to spend so much,” she said, feeling a pang of guilt mixed with amazement.

“I’m not spending anything,” John replied with a chuckle. “I want you to be safe and comfortable.”

“This place is way too opulent,” Yn said, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I would like you to be safe and comfortable,” John repeated, his voice firm but tender.

“John… sometimes you baffle me,” Yn admitted, a smile creeping into her voice.

John chuckled softly on the other end. “Thank you for this unnecessary splurging though.”

“Enjoy your conference, Yn,” he said, his tone warm and reassuring.

Yn ended the call, feeling a deep sense of appreciation for John’s thoughtfulness. She looked around the luxurious suite, still trying to process the lavishness of it all. It was clear that John’s influence and care extended beyond the material world, touching every aspect of her experience in New York. As she settled into her opulent surroundings, she couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and affection for him.

On the second day of her conference, Yn found herself with a few unexpected hours of free time. After the conference ended early, she decided to explore the hotel rather than returning to her suite immediately.

The Continental, with its luxurious amenities and sophisticated design, was like a mini-city within itself. Yn wandered through the opulent corridors, taking in the grandeur of the place. The hotel was an architectural marvel, blending classic charm with modern elegance. Each hallway was adorned with exquisite artwork and meticulously maintained gardens, giving her a sense of calm and awe.

As she strolled through the main lobby, she noticed the elegant lounge area with its plush seating and soft ambient music. Guests were scattered around, some engaged in quiet conversations, others simply enjoying their surroundings. Yn felt a sense of serenity as she walked past, the atmosphere providing a stark contrast to the bustling energy of the conference.

She decided to visit the hotel’s library, a cozy room lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. The library had an old-world charm, with leather armchairs and warm lighting creating a welcoming space. Yn found a comfortable spot by a window and began leafing through a selection of rare books and classic literature.

Later, she explored the hotel’s spa and wellness center. The facilities were state-of-the-art, offering a range of relaxing treatments and services. She marveled at the tranquility of the space, taking note of the serene pool area and the luxurious spa suites. Although she didn’t indulge in any treatments, the ambiance itself was incredibly calming.

Yn then wandered into the hotel's art gallery, showcasing an impressive collection of contemporary art. Each piece was meticulously curated, and she enjoyed the artistic displays and the quiet, reflective atmosphere of the gallery.

As she continued her exploration, she felt a growing sense of appreciation for the attention to detail and the level of care that went into every aspect of the hotel. It was clear that The Continental was more than just a place to stay; it was an experience designed to offer the highest level of comfort and luxury.

Yn continued her exploration of The Continental, intrigued by the hotel's opulence and the curious atmosphere surrounding her. As she wandered through the elegant halls, she noticed that a few people seemed to acknowledge her with respectful nods and warm smiles. Their recognition puzzled her, but she pushed it aside, assuming it was due to her association with John.

Eventually, she reached a stunning balcony that offered a panoramic view of the New York skyline. The city stretched out before her, a dazzling display of lights and towering buildings against the backdrop of the twilight sky. It was a breathtaking sight, and Yn stood there for a moment, absorbing the beauty and tranquility of the scene.

As she leaned against the balcony railing, a man approached her with an air of confident ease. He was impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, his demeanor polished and professional. He greeted her with a warm, friendly smile.

“Good evening, Mrs. Wick. Are you enjoying The Continental?” he asked, his voice smooth and courteous.

Yn turned, startled by his sudden appearance and the familiarity in his tone. “Do I know you?” she asked, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I am being rude,” the man said, bowing slightly and taking her hand. He kissed her knuckles gently. “My name is Marcus. No, we haven’t met before. I am a friend of John’s.”

“Oh, I see. It’s nice to meet you, Marcus,” Yn replied, trying to regain her composure and return his polite greeting.

“It is a great pleasure to finally meet you,” Marcus said, his smile widening. “We have only heard about you.”

“Heard about me?” Yn asked, intrigued.

“Yes,” Marcus replied. “Your husband is... well... respected here.”

“It’s good to know,” Yn said, her curiosity piqued.

“How long have you known John?” she asked, eager to learn more about her husband’s acquaintances.

“Long enough for me to stop counting the years, Mrs. Wick,” Marcus answered with a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

Yn smiled at the depth of his response. “I’m sure you are close friends. It’s rare to meet John’s friends.”

Before Marcus could reply, their conversation was interrupted by Charon, the hotel’s ever-present concierge.

“Mrs. Wick, if I may,” Charon said, his tone formal yet accommodating, “I shall have the car ready at 6 for your departure.”

“Of course, thank you,” Yn responded with a nod, appreciating the attentiveness of the service.

As Charon departed, Yn turned back to Marcus. “Well, it was lovely meeting you, Marcus. I appreciate the warm welcome.”

“The pleasure was mine, Mrs. Wick,” Marcus said, bowing slightly before excusing himself.

Yn watched as Marcus walked away, the layers of her curiosity about John’s world deepening. The encounter had given her a glimpse into the extent of John’s influence and the respect he commanded. With the evening drawing to a close and her thoughts swirling, Yn felt both humbled and reassured by the connections John had cultivated in his life.

As she made her way back to her suite, she reflected on the surreal and privileged experience she had just encountered. The grandeur of The Continental and the unexpected interactions had only added to the complex tapestry of her and John’s intertwined lives.

Yn’s time at The Continental had been both enchanting and disconcerting. The opulence of the hotel and the way people seemed to acknowledge her presence with a blend of respect and awe left her deep in thought. As she returned to her suite, her mind swirled with questions and realizations about John.

She had always known John as the devoted and caring husband, someone who had shown her endless kindness and thoughtfulness. Yet, here at The Continental, the atmosphere was different. The deference and respect from the hotel staff, along with Marcus’s subtle hints about John’s stature, made her question the extent of his influence and power.

Yn wondered if there was a darker side to John’s world that she had never seen. The way Marcus spoke about John as someone who was "well-respected" and the fact that people seemed to recognize her as his wife, despite having met her for the first time, hinted at a deeper layer of his life—one that she was not fully privy to.

Her internal monologue was a mix of intrigue and apprehension. She found herself reflecting on the incidents from the past weeks—the way John had been overly attentive, his secretive ways, and the occasional but intense moments of intimacy between them. She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a part of him that was veiled in mystery, a part that commanded both fear and respect.

Yn’s mind raced with possibilities. Was John involved in something dangerous or secretive that she had been shielded from? The fear and awe she had observed in the people at The Continental made her question how deeply John’s past might influence their present. She wondered if there were aspects of his life that he had carefully hidden from her, perhaps to protect her or simply because it was a world she was not meant to see.

Despite the unease, Yn’s thoughts were not solely negative. She realized that John’s world, however daunting, was a part of who he was. His ability to command such respect and manage such a grand life indicated strength and resilience. It also made her appreciate his efforts to create a sense of normalcy and safety for her, despite the shadows of his past.

As she settled into her room, Yn felt a mix of admiration and apprehension. She knew that understanding John’s full spectrum of life would require more than just surface-level interactions. It would involve navigating the complexities of his past and the layers of his present, all while balancing her own growing feelings for him. The experience at The Continental had opened her eyes to the vast and intricate world that John was a part of, making her question what other hidden facets of his life she might uncover in the future.

---

John’s evenings at home without Yn were filled with a profound sense of emptiness and reflection. As he sat in their shared spaces—the living room where they’d had countless conversations, the kitchen where they’d enjoyed meals together—he couldn’t escape the reality of her absence. The house, though meticulously maintained, felt eerily quiet, and the familiar surroundings only served to amplify her absence.

John’s thoughts frequently drifted to the life he had before Yn, a life marked by isolation and the relentless pursuit of personal retribution. Before Yn came into his world, his existence had been defined by solitude and an unyielding sense of purpose that left little room for personal connection. His days had been a relentless cycle of missions and survival, his nights filled with the ghosts of past actions and the weight of unspoken regrets.

In stark contrast, Yn had brought warmth and meaning into his life. Her presence had transformed his home from a mere shelter into a haven, and her companionship had added a dimension of joy and fulfillment he hadn’t known he was missing. Her laughter, her small gestures of affection, and the way she made even mundane tasks seem significant had become integral to his sense of well-being.

John reflected on the shift in his perspective since meeting Yn. Where once his world had been confined to the shadows and the cold efficiency of his work, now it was illuminated by the light of her presence. He realized that her absence was not just the void of a companion but the absence of a partner who had come to understand him in ways he hadn’t thought possible. She had seen past the hardened exterior to the vulnerable man beneath, and her support and affection had given him hope and a sense of belonging.

As he wandered through the house, John imagined what life would have been without Yn. The thought was unsettling. He envisioned a future dominated by the same cycle of loneliness and professional detachment that had once defined him. The house would return to being just a space, devoid of the warmth and personal touch that Yn brought to every corner. The thought of facing that future, where his days would be filled with the same old routines but without her presence to brighten them, was deeply distressing.

John’s longing for Yn went beyond mere companionship; it was a deep-seated need for the emotional and psychological connection she provided. He missed the way she challenged him, supported him, and made him feel valued. The realization of how much she had come to mean to him was both a source of joy and a poignant reminder of the depth of his feelings.

As he waited for her return, John found himself contemplating the future they could build together. The time apart made him appreciate more than ever the bond they shared and the profound impact she had on his life. The quiet of the house, once a backdrop to his solitary existence, now served as a constant reminder of what he had gained and what he stood to lose without her.

John's realization that he is deeply in love with Yn marked a turning point in his life. The clarity of his feelings came into sharp focus during the moments of solitude he experienced while she was away. The absence of her laughter, the emptiness of their shared spaces, and the stark quiet of the house made him confront his emotions head-on.

John understood that there was no retreat from the depth of his love for Yn. She had become an integral part of his existence, and the idea of life without her was both unthinkable and unbearable. The connection they had developed was profound, and it was clear that his feelings went beyond mere affection or companionship. Yn had touched parts of him that he had long kept guarded, and she had made him realize the extent to which he could open his heart.

The thought of telling Yn how he truly felt was both exhilarating and daunting. John knew that he needed to express his feelings to her, not just for his own peace of mind but to give her the clarity she deserved about where their relationship stood. The fear of vulnerability and the potential for disrupting their current dynamic were significant, but the desire to be honest and to solidify their bond was stronger.

In his moments of reflection, John envisioned the future he wanted with Yn. He imagined a life where their relationship could evolve from a practical arrangement to a genuine partnership, filled with mutual love and respect. The prospect of sharing his life with her, of building a future together, was something he eagerly looked forward to.

John’s commitment to eventually confessing his love was unwavering. He was prepared to wait until the right moment presented itself, one that would allow him to express his feelings in a manner that was sincere and respectful of their relationship. The time apart only strengthened his resolve, and he knew that when Yn returned, he would be ready to share his heart with her.

Ultimately, John’s love for Yn was a force that would guide him towards a future where he hoped to make her feel as cherished and valued as she had made him feel. His determination to be open and honest about his feelings underscored the depth of his commitment to their relationship and the future he envisioned for them both.

----

Yn embraced John tightly as she returned home, her heart full of gratitude and affection. "Thank you for the Continental," she said, her voice soft with sincerity. "It was an incredible experience, but I’ve missed you so much."

John pulled her close, his arms enveloping her with a warmth that spoke of his deep feelings. "I’ve missed you too," he replied, his voice tinged with genuine emotion. His eyes searched hers, filled with a mix of relief and longing. The time apart had only made him more aware of how integral Yn was to his life.

They stood there for a moment, simply enjoying the closeness. The absence of their usual formality seemed to dissolve in the embrace, leaving behind the raw truth of their feelings for each other. John’s heart swelled with a sense of completeness, knowing that Yn was back and that he could now share with her everything he had been holding inside.

---

As John and Yn walked through the parking lot, their arms casually linked, the atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable. But that tranquility was abruptly shattered when a group of four men, their expressions aggressive and their voices loud, surrounded them. Their intentions were clear: robbery, and perhaps something worse.

Yn’s grip on John’s arm tightened, fear evident in her eyes. “Just take whatever you want,” she said, her voice trembling. “Please don’t hurt us.”

John remained eerily calm, his gaze steady and unflinching. “No. You’re not getting anything. You have thirty seconds to leave.”

Yn’s eyes widened in alarm. “What are you doing, John? They have weapons!”

John’s demeanor shifted dramatically. His calmness was replaced by a formidable aura that seemed to radiate power and authority. His posture straightened, his eyes narrowed, and his voice took on a tone that brooked no argument. There was a dangerous edge to his calm, a sense of control that was both mesmerizing and terrifying. He stood as a figure of sheer dominance, every movement deliberate and controlled.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice a low, commanding rumble. It was a statement that demanded belief, a promise of action.

In less than two minutes, the scene unfolded with stunning speed. John moved with a precision that was almost too fast for the eye to follow. The rowdy men, who had initially seemed menacing and confident, were now on the ground, groaning, screaming, and clutching their injuries. Their weapons were scattered and dismantled, rendering them useless.

Yn stood in stunned silence, her eyes wide with disbelief. John, on the other hand, was the picture of calm composure. Not a hair was out of place, not a wrinkle in his clothing. He exuded an air of effortless control, as if he had merely dealt with a minor inconvenience.

As the men writhed on the ground, John turned to Yn. His expression softened slightly, but his eyes still held that intense, unwavering gaze. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice returning to a gentle tone.

Yn nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. She looked at John, her fear now mingled with awe. “I... I didn’t know you could do that.”

John’s eyes softened further, a hint of a reassuring smile touching his lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

Yn followed him to their car, her thoughts racing. The encounter had revealed a side of John that was both astonishing and unsettling, deepening the mystery of who he really was.

---

Yn simply stared at John, her eyes wide and unblinking. The initial shock had given way to a profound silence. The man she had just seen in the parking lot was a stark contrast to the husband who had gently held her hand and made her laugh in their everyday moments. Her mind was struggling to piece together the calm, ordinary John with the skilled, commanding figure who had just neutralized the threat with such ease.

Her gaze was fixed on John’s face, trying to find the familiar features she knew so well amidst the intensity of what she had just witnessed. There was a mixture of fear, confusion, and awe in her eyes. The sheer disparity between the gentle man she had known and the fierce protector she had just seen left her at a loss for words.

John, feeling the weight of her stare, remained still, allowing the silence to hang between them. He understood the enormity of what she had seen and gave her the space to process it. His own thoughts were focused on her safety and the unspoken reassurance that she now had a deeper understanding of the complexities that lay beneath his calm exterior.

Yn’s voice trembled slightly as she tried to process what had just happened. “John… what just happened out there?” She took a deep breath, her eyes still wide with disbelief. “There were four men, John. Four men with weapons. And now… now they’re on the ground, and you didn’t even break a sweat.”

She shook her head, struggling to piece together the events. “How did you—what was that? I don’t even know what to ask. I’m just trying to understand.”

Her gaze was intense, filled with a mix of shock and confusion. “It’s like… it’s like you turned into someone else. Someone I’ve never seen before.” She looked at him with a mix of awe and fear. “John, how is this possible? Who are you?”

Her words hung in the air, her voice barely above a whisper as she searched for answers in his steady, unruffled demeanor.

John took a deep breath, the weight of the truth settling on his shoulders. He looked at Yn, his expression softening as he began to speak, his voice steady but filled with a quiet intensity.

“Yn,” he started, “there’s something you need to know about me. Something I’ve kept hidden for a long time.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I wasn’t always the man you see now. I was… I am a former assassin. My past life was filled with danger and violence.”

Yn’s eyes widened further, a mixture of shock and disbelief evident in her expression. “An assassin? John, are you serious?”

John nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Yes. I was known as John Wick. My skills, my reputation—it’s all real. The way I handled those men wasn’t just about defending us; it’s part of who I am. I was trained to fight, to protect, and sometimes to kill. It’s something I left behind, but it’s still a part of me.”

He sighed deeply, the gravity of his confession weighing heavily on him. “I didn’t want you to know. I thought I could keep my past hidden, but after what happened today, I couldn’t avoid the truth any longer. I understand if you’re scared or angry. I just needed you to know who I really am.”

Yn's voice was steady but tinged with a hint of disbelief as she processed John’s revelation. “Okay, John. You were an assassin. I get it. I think I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

John watched her closely, his eyes searching for any sign of fear or rejection. His past had always been a shadow over his life, a part of him that he had hoped would remain buried. He felt a pang of uncertainty, a flicker of old fears. “You aren’t afraid of me?” he asked, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Yn looked at him with a calm and resolute gaze. “John, you’ve been nothing but kind and supportive to me. The person you are now, the person I’ve come to know and care about, is what matters to me. Your past… it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

John felt a wave of relief wash over him, but it was accompanied by a deeper, more profound emotion. Yn’s acceptance and understanding of his past were more than he had hoped for. The way she spoke, the sincerity in her voice, made him feel something he hadn’t expected—a deeper connection and affection.

He took a step closer to her, his expression softening. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me, Yn. I’ve been carrying this secret for so long, and hearing you say that you don’t judge me for it… it’s more than I could have hoped for.”

Yn took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving his. “I trust you, John. And I believe in the person you are now, not the person you were.”

John’s heart swelled with a mixture of gratitude and love. He realized, in that moment, just how deeply he had fallen for Yn. Her acceptance of his past and her unwavering support made him love her even more. He had always been guarded, always kept his emotions in check, but Yn had managed to break through those walls with her kindness and compassion.

He reached out and gently took her hand in his, his touch tender and reassuring. “Thank you, Yn. For everything. For understanding, for accepting me. You’ve made me see that there’s still hope for a future beyond my past.”

Yn took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “John, it explains a lot about you. Your attention to detail, your seriousness, and your incredible ability to stay calm under pressure. Your decisiveness, your protective nature, and even your tendency to always be prepared for any situation—it all makes sense now.”

She continued, her eyes reflecting admiration and understanding. “Your discipline, your ability to read people and situations so precisely, and the way you’re always so vigilant about safety and security. It’s all connected to what you used to do. It’s like you’ve carried those skills and traits into your everyday life, using them in ways that keep us safe and cared for.”

John nodded, absorbing her words. “I guess it’s just part of who I am, whether I like it or not. But hearing you understand it like this... it means a lot.”

John gently cupped Yn’s face in his hands, his fingers brushing against her skin with a tenderness that belied his formidable past. His gaze was intense yet soft, holding her eyes with an earnestness that spoke of unspoken emotions.

“You know,” he began, his voice steady but imbued with deep emotion, “everything you’ve learned about me, everything you’ve discovered—it’s true. I used to be someone else, someone with a different life, different priorities.” He paused, taking a deep breath as if finding the right words was a challenge.

“But there’s one more thing you don’t know, Yn. Despite how this marriage began, as a contract or necessity, it has become so much more for me. I want you to understand that I am not just here because of duty or arrangement.” His eyes searched hers for understanding. “I am here because I am deeply, irrevocably in love with you.”

His voice grew softer, more personal. “From the moment we met, from the first time I saw you, I felt something shift inside me. It wasn’t just attraction or companionship. It was a realization that you are my counterpart, my other half. I admire your strength, your kindness, and your intelligence. You’ve become the center of my world, and my feelings for you have only grown deeper with time.”

John’s hands remained on her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek as he continued, “I never imagined that a marriage that started as a necessity could turn into something so beautiful and profound. You’ve shown me what it means to truly care for someone, to want to protect and cherish them. And that’s what I want to do for you, every single day.”

His eyes were filled with vulnerability and sincerity as he finished, “Yn, I love you more than I ever thought possible. This isn’t just about what was or what is—it’s about a future that I want to share with you, a life built on love and mutual respect. I hope you can see that, and that you feel the same way about us.”

Yn’s eyes were misty with emotion, her heart swelling with a mixture of joy and relief. The depth of John’s confession resonated deeply with her, affirming the feelings she had developed over time. It was a moment of profound connection and honesty, a testament to the strength of their bond and the genuine love that had grown from their initial arrangement.

John's heart raced as he saw the turmoil and hesitation in Yn’s eyes. He had just laid bare his deepest feelings, exposing a vulnerability that he rarely showed. Her response came slowly, a reflection of the weight of the words they had exchanged.

"John, I..." she began, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Take your time," John said softly, his voice a comforting whisper. "I can wait. I will wait... eternity for you." His gaze held a depth of sincerity and patience that spoke of his readiness to embrace whatever she needed.

Yn looked down, her heart struggling to keep pace with her thoughts. The stormy night, their kiss—it all seemed like a distant memory now. "John, when we kissed in the storm... why didn’t you say anything?" she asked, her voice laced with a mix of sadness and confusion.

John's expression softened as he stepped closer, his hands still gently cupping her face. "I was afraid of losing you, Yn. I didn’t want to jeopardize what we had, even though it was just starting to feel like something more. I thought if I spoke too soon, if I pushed too hard, it might ruin everything."

Yn’s eyes filled with tears as she took in his words, realizing the depth of his fears mirrored her own. "That makes the two of us," she said quietly, a mix of relief and anguish in her voice. "I love you too, John. I just thought that maybe you thought that kiss was a mistake."

John’s eyes widened with surprise and a profound sense of relief. "Oh, Yn," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. Without another word, he pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss that conveyed everything he had held back—his love, his longing, his fear, and his joy.

The kiss was slow and deliberate, each movement a testament to the depth of their feelings. John’s lips were gentle but insistent, capturing Yn’s with a tenderness that spoke of the intensity of his emotions. His hands slid down to her back, pulling her closer, deepening their connection.

Yn responded with equal fervor, her arms wrapping around his neck as if she could anchor herself in his embrace. She melted into him, her heart swelling with the realization that their feelings were mutual and reciprocated.

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other’s. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the profound connection they had just reaffirmed.

John looked into Yn’s eyes, his voice barely a whisper. "I never thought I could love someone as much as I love you."

Yn smiled through her tears, her voice equally soft. "And I never thought I could find someone who understands me as completely as you do."

They stood there, holding each other, the weight of their fears and doubts finally lifted. In that moment, their love was clear and undeniable, a testament to the strength of their bond and the future they were ready to embrace together.

Yn's words broke the silence, a hint of humor and relief mingling in her voice. "We both have been awfully stupid, haven’t we?"

John's response was a gentle smile, his eyes reflecting a mixture of regret and affection. "Yes," he admitted, his voice carrying a tender note.

Without another word, Yn moved into his embrace, wrapping her arms around him as if to savor every moment of their renewed connection. John responded immediately, his arms encircling her, holding her close. The embrace was warm and comforting, a silent acknowledgment of their shared feelings and the journey they had just navigated.

John leaned in and kissed her again, his lips brushing hers with a new urgency and tenderness. The kiss was deep and passionate, each touch conveying the intensity of his emotions and the depth of his love. Yn responded eagerly, her fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

As their kisses became more fervent, their breaths mingled and their hearts beat in unison. Each kiss was a promise, a reaffirmation of their love, and a celebration of the connection they had finally embraced.

In those moments, all their past fears and uncertainties seemed to dissolve, leaving only the certainty of their feelings and the joy of being together. Their kisses continued, each one more fervent than the last, as they lost themselves in the intimacy and the overwhelming sense of rightness that had finally come to define their relationship.

John held Yn in his arms, his heart swelling with a mixture of love and longing. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their intimate cocoon. He carried her gently, his movements both tender and purposeful, as they made their way to his bedroom—now their shared sanctuary.

The room, softly lit by the warm glow of bedside lamps, was a reflection of their deepening bond. John laid Yn down on the bed with the utmost care, his eyes never leaving hers. Each touch was a silent vow, each caress a promise of the love they had only just acknowledged.

Yn's heart raced with anticipation and excitement. As John slowly undressed her, his touch was reverent and affectionate, as if he was discovering each part of her anew. His fingers traced the contours of her body with a gentle reverence, his gaze filled with admiration and desire.

When their bodies finally came together, it was as if they were completing a long-awaited dance. Their movements were slow and deliberate, every touch and kiss conveying the depth of their emotions. The room was filled with the soft sounds of their shared breaths and the whispered declarations of love that came naturally as they made love for the first time.

John was attentive and considerate, ensuring that each moment was as beautiful as it could be. His actions spoke of the passion he felt, and Yn responded with equal fervor, her hands exploring him with a mix of curiosity and affection.

The experience was a blend of tenderness and intensity, a celebration of their love and the culmination of their journey from a practical arrangement to a deeply romantic partnership. As they moved together, the connection between them solidified, their bodies and souls intertwining in a profound and beautiful way.

Afterward, they lay together, their bodies entwined, the room filled with the quiet echoes of their shared intimacy. John held Yn close, his heart full and content. Yn nestled against him, a sense of completeness and happiness washing over her. They had crossed a significant threshold in their relationship, and the world outside seemed distant and irrelevant compared to the bond they had just forged.

The following morning, the kitchen felt different. The usual routine was imbued with a newfound warmth and affection. Yn and John moved around each other with a tenderness that had not been there before. The morning light streamed through the windows, casting a soft glow on the space where their love had deepened the night before.

Yn, her cheeks still flushed from the previous evening, giggled as John playfully nudged her while reaching for the coffee. Every touch seemed to carry a silent message of their new intimacy, each glance filled with shared joy and unspoken promises. John, too, seemed to radiate a different kind of happiness. His eyes held a softness and a warmth that spoke volumes about the depth of his feelings for Yn.

As they prepared breakfast together, John would occasionally lean in to plant a chaste kiss on Yn’s cheek or forehead. Each kiss was a tender reminder of their affection and the bond they now shared. Yn responded with blushes and shy smiles, her heart fluttering at the simplest gestures of love.

Their conversation was light and filled with laughter, the kind that comes from a place of genuine happiness. The mundane tasks of cooking and cleaning were punctuated with moments of shared glances and affectionate touches. The atmosphere was one of easy intimacy, as if their love had seamlessly woven itself into the fabric of their daily lives.

The love they had expressed the night before now seemed to permeate every action, every interaction. The kitchen, once a place of routine and practicality, had transformed into a space of shared joy and connection. As they moved together, working side by side, the depth of their love was evident in every smile, every touch, and every shared moment.

[broke-art]

Nezha x reader

Nezha twirled his spear casually as he strolled the parameter. Guarding the map was dull work, even if it was a sacred duty. He treasured the trust that had been placed on him when he was tasked with the map's safety, but still. It got somewhat lonely sometimes.

"You look bored, soldier."

Instantly Nezha straightened and whirled around. His spear at the ready.

"Woah, woah. It's just me." Y/n giggled nervously holding up her hands in surrender.

Nezha lowered the spear.

"Y/n you're not supposed to be here." He frowned giving her a disapproving look.

"I-I know I just-" She looked away and rolled up a bit of her sleeve revealing bandages where blood had stained the white.

Nezha's eyes widened.

"Again?!" He demanded stepping closer.

Only the movement caused Y/n to flinch, so he stepped back again briskly.

Y/n had been his best friend ever since he was young. She was always there for him when he needed her. Although, he couldn't return the gesture. Y/n's father was a high ranking official, and a brutal man.

He had trained her for combat her entire life, only he was ruthless with his teachings. The slightest mistakes were severely punished and she would end up with more cuts and bruises after training than when she had begun.

Nezha had tried to report the behavior but his concerns were dismissed as her father was well trusted by the heavenly court. Everyone considered it to be for her own good if her father was so harsh.

Nezha couldn't and wouldn't agree. But there wasn't much else he could do.

"Alright, you can stay just... Stay by me, alright?"

Y/n beamed and nodded.

Her excitement softened his frustration towards the situation and he took on a ghost of a smile.

"Come on then." He walked and Y/n hurried to follow. She fell into step next to him.

"This is such a cool job." She said in awe looking around.

Nezha chuckled.

"You think so?" He asked amusedly.

"It is!" She huffed at his teasing. "You get to guard a sacred heavenly treasure and you're revered for it."

Nezha nodded.

"It is an honor."

Y/n looked around the grounds.

"Don't you get lonely?"

Nezha shook his head.

"Not particularly." But at that moment he caught her hopeful look. "Well, I suppose every now and then."

A smile bloomed on y/n's beautiful lips which caused Nezha's heart to trip.

"I'll have to visit you more often then." She giggled.

Nezha looked away quickly and coughed into a hand.

"I suppose as the daughter of a high ranking official, you could be trusted."

Y/n hugged him.

"Thank you, soldier! You won't regret it." She promised.

Nezha tensed under the hug his cheeks flaring red. But he cautiously returned the gesture.

And that was how it had begun. Y/n would visit him on a daily basis. Sometimes she would bring lunch, or snacks she knew Nezha enjoyed. Other times she would bring books to read to him, as his attention was required for his duty. And still other times she would simply come to talk and admittedly these hours made his job far more pleasant than Nezha had imagined.

Though, the days she was late concerned him. And every late day, she would stumble in with more wounds than the last time. Her nervous smiles would falter a little more each time, and worst of all she would speak less.

Nezha twirled his spear today as he walked the polished floors. Musing once again on how he might aid y/n. Reports proved to be of little use, confrontation would end in a fight possibly bringing down the ire of the jade emperor, and any alternative left Y/n at her father's mercy. Unacceptable.

"Put me down! Let go!" Y/n's shouts caused Nezha's head to snap up. In an instant he was in the great hall.

"Gosh you squirm a lot." Monkey King chuckled with a small grunt as y/n thrashed and fought in his grip. Just then Monkey King noticed Nezha.

"Nezha! Buddy! How's it-"

"Get your hands off her." Nezha growled readying his spear.

Monkey King smiled.

"Gee, I'd love to but see, I kinda need a favor first."

Nezha's rings under his feet lit with purple flame.

Monkey King seemed unimpressed with the display, but continued.

"Sooo I need the map. And I figured you're a nice guy so I brought you a present to trade." He held out Y/n like a gift with a smile. "what do ya say bud?"

Nezha released a roar as he attacked Sun Wukong.

You yelped as Sun Wukong dodged Nezha's attacks with astounding speed. All the while he ensured you didn't receive any of the backlash from the onslaught of attacks.

Finally Wukong landed on a banister quite a ways up. He dangled you over the impending drop with one hand and Nezha froze.

"Listen Nezha, I'd love to stay and chat. Really I would, but I can't this time round. So, here's your gift." And with that parting sentiment, you felt Wukong's grip vanish.

You yelped as you plummeted towards the ground. Due to the previous battle the ground was cracked and broken into several sharp    bits that would surely impale you upon impact.

"Y/N!" Nezha yelled rushing towards you.

You shut your eyes preparing for impact only to feel an arm around your lower back and another arm around your hips. Slowly you opened your eyes to see Nezha.

He expression held worry and his eyes traveled over you panickedly. He seemed extremely relieved when he saw no injury.

You were about to make a comment when he hugged you against him.

"I'm ok." You promised gently. "I really am."

Nezha pulled back and studied you once again, then when he seemed to find you were unharmed he looked to where the map had laid. Sure enough, it was gone.

Guilt swept over you.

"Oh no. Nezha this all my fault, I'm so so-"

"No." Nezha cut you off simply. "This is no one's fault but Wukong's. But I must retrieve the map." He got to a stand then offered you a hand.

You took it and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

"With the samadhi fire reforged will come the end of life. Y/n if I don't return-" he looked at you. "There's something you must know."

Something about the look in his eyes made your heart skip a beat.

"Yes?" You asked hopefully.

"I-." He paused for a moment considering his words. "I love you."

Your jaw dropped. You had hoped for years that he would return your feelings.

"I have to follow him, or I'll lose the map forever. Wait for me." He instructed resting a hand on your cheek then with a gust of wind he was gone.

*Yes I know this isn't how it was in the series, but this was cute and I wanted to write it so ha.*

[wreywrites]

The Ones We Carry

Summer of Bad Batch Week 4

Prompts: Cadets & “You really think you’re going without me? Not going to happen.”

A/N: Flashbacks for this and Jedi June? Apparently. Also I'm a day late. These prompts were a struggle for me (idk man) and I'm still not totally sold on this one but in the spirit of not getting bogged down, I'm posting it and moving on. Warnings: Not-so-fond memories of Kamino, Crosshair gets to swear a little, as a treat AO3

“How do you know him?” Omega asked as the recorded holo came to an end.

Zara, arms crossed, frown etched on her face, said, “I’ve known him for a long time.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s safe to go running when he asks nicely,” Hunter said with an equal frown.

“He’s not going to turn me—”

“I knew Cid for a long time, and look what she did,” Echo growled. “I vote no.”

“It’s not a kriffing vote.” Zara ground her teeth. She liked the guys, but she was an adult, and a trained Jedi, and didn’t need them to always be babying her and breathing down her neck in the name of keeping her safe. “I’m going, because my people asked me to.”

“Oh, he’s ‘your people’ now?”

“What about us?”

“Listen!” she snapped. “Last time I saw him was years ago on Kamino, telling the shinies stories about flying fighters in—” She stopped at the looks on their faces. “What?”

“Kamino?” Crosshair hissed.

Hunter worked his jaw. “So he was a bounty hunter.”

“No, he wasn’t then and I’d bet you the bounty I’m worth that he’s not now—”

“That is precisely the issue,” Tech said. “As a Jedi, you are worth a substantial bounty, one that would make almost any galactic citizen willing to turn you over to the Empire. What is to say this one won’t seize the opportunity?”

She shook her head. “I’m going.” She slammed a datachip on the table. “This will decode in two weeks. If I’m not back and you haven’t heard from me by then, you can go to the coordinates and start looking for me. Got it?”

Zara didn’t wait to hear their answers before stalking off to the ship, immensely glad they refueled when they got home from the last trip so she could just leave right now.

*****

“How did it go today?”

Crosshair shrugged as he finished reassembling his rifle after cleaning and polishing it.

“How about you, Wrecker?”

“Hungry,” Wrecker mumbled. “They made me train through lunch.”

“Here.” Tech held out a ration bar, one of the many 99 had smuggled to them over the last several months since their training had intensified.

Wrecker inhaled it, then started recounted his day, his eyes lighting up the way they always did when he got to talk about wiring explosives and timing detonators. “He actually said I did good today! Got to wire a domino string for blowin’ up walls and dams and long stuff like that. Said I was a natural.”

“Well… you are,” Tech tilted his head quizzically. It looked like he was wondering why the instructor had bothered pointing out such an obvious fact.

Crosshair elbowed him on his way to his bunk.

“Wh—”

“That’s good, Wrecker,” Hunter said quickly. “Really good.”

What none of them said, what they never mentioned, was how normal it was for Wrecker to train right through meal times, for Hunter to get back to their barracks at the end of the day with a splitting headache, for Tech to alternately babble without end all the words he wasn’t allowed to say during training or sit in silence with his datapad either ignoring or not even hearing conversation directed his way, for Crosshair’s eyes to burn from strain and his legs to twitch and bounce from pent-up nervous energy.

For the words they all heard, all day, from the bounty hunters the Kaminoans hired to train them.

Words that even the other cadets, who harbored mixed feelings about the enhanced cadets, wouldn’t repeat—not even to tease them. The other cadets didn’t hate them, but it kriffing felt like the instructors did.

Words sneered at eight-year-old children.

“Surely you can do better than that.”

“Faster—you can’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”

“You should know this.”

“If you can’t handle this, maybe we should decommission you right now and save ourselves the trouble.”

Crosshair’s eyes felt like the eye drops one of the medic trainee cadets had given him had been replaced with liquid tibanna. He couldn’t even remember how far he’d been shooting today—just that it seemed unnecessarily far—

“Hey.”

Wrecker’s weight settled onto Crosshair’s bunk.

“You okay?”

Crosshair rolled over to face the wall in response.

“Don’t let ’em get to ya,” Wrecker said quietly. “We know you’re the best, no matter what those bounty hunters say.” Then he stood up, and something small took his place.

Crosshair stayed there, curled on his side with his eyes squeezed shut toward the wall until the others had finished their nightly routines and one of them clicked off the lights. When it had been dark and quiet for several minutes, he rolled over.

There was Lula.

*****

It was her first time in hyperspace.

No, it wasn’t.

The first time she had been only one, and Master Depa had been bringing her from Mandalore to Coruscant. Zara didn’t really remember it. She remembered being sad, though with the benefits of age and hindsight and knowledge of the Force, she had later become sure that it wasn’t her sadness, but his.

This trip, though, this trip she would remember forever. The joy running rampant through the Force between her and her clanmates and the excitement that Padawan Swan felt at this great responsibility and honor that had been given to her.

Nahdar bounced in place next to her. On the other side of the room, Anakin and Aayla wrestled to burn off some energy.

Zara looked down at her datapad and its collection of sketches. Soon she would be building it, the lightsaber in her designs, and then she would be carrying it on her hip like the big Jedi did, and then she would be learning as someone’s padawan! Her eagerness was palpable, she was sure, but she didn’t care. She was surrounded by friends and today was the first big step on their way to becoming Jedi.

*****

“Force, you’re stressed.” Zara nudged the wall panel, opening the door to the supply closet and revealing Crosshair sitting in a nest of blankets. She dropped a couple of ration bars into his lap. “And you’re here, when I recall all of you saying you didn’t want me here, so go ahead and explain that.”

“You said you knew this guy on Kamino. But did you know what he was like on Kamino?” Crosshair shook his head. “They were awful. All of them. Acted like they’d rather be anywhere else and getting their toenails ripped out than teaching us. Made life hell for us in exchange.”

“I was there,” she said quietly, trying to be patient. “I was on Kamino several times during the war. I know what it was like—”

“No you don’t!” he snapped. “We grew up there! We only had each other and the mudscuffers training us, and they were—No.”

“No what?” Zara snapped back.

“You’re not—You insist on going to see this man? Fine, whatever. But you really think you’re going without me? Not going to happen.”

“Is that what you’ve got the whole entire Force churning about?”

He leveled a glare at her.

“No, I’m serious. You snuck on the ship with me and now you’re sitting here stewing because I’m going to visit my uncle, the Protector of Concord Dawn, who happened to train fighter pilots on Kamino, because you think he’s the same person as kriffing Bric Sykevi—”

*****

“Yes, Master Chief.”

“Sorry, Master Chief.”

“I’ll do better next time, Master Chief.”

It made him feel better that the regs were terrified of Master Chief too, but it didn’t make him any less scared of the man, or of the punishments he could dole out and the threats he could make that only took one misstep to turn into actions taken.

He couldn’t wait to graduate, to get promoted from cadet to private or whatever they wanted to call him, to leave Kamino and never see those instructors again.

*****

“Bric—!” He was on his feet, pile of blankets left behind as he towered over Zara. He dropped his voice and growled, “Bric Sykevi is the lowest piece of bantha shit in the galaxy. If he died right now, I would only mourn because I didn’t get to kill him myself.”

“Whoa…” Zara breathed, leaning away until she bumped the wall.

“And anyone who willingly worked for him—I just—I can’t—”

“Please take a deep breath.”

He hauled in a breath through gritted teeth. “I was raised by bounty hunters hired, first by the Kaminoans and then by Bric Sykevi, to turn us into cold-blooded killing machines. That is my experience with what you might call ‘parental figures.’”

*****

Ky and Master Obi-Wan were laughing so hard tears ran down their faces.

“So Quin—Quin—” Ky wheezed, completely unable to finish her embarrassing story about Master Quinlan, but Master Ob-Wan didn’t need her to. They had known Master Quinlan since they came to the Temple as children.

“Let me guess—he tried to sweet-talk—”

“He tried to sweet-talk the guard!”

Master Obi-Wan roared, leaning against Ky as she howled.

Zara smiled. Their quiet afternoon of meditation had turned into Anakin napping in the grass—Master Obi-Wan said he needed it after their morning spar—and Ky and Master Obi-Wan trading stories about their adventures in the wide galaxy while Zara sat and listened and basked in the sunshine of the Force.

In moments like this, she could remember more clearly. A blue-eyed boy, his tongue sticking out and his eyes crossed. A red-haired man picking her up and tossing her high over his head, then catching her and spinning her around and around as she laughed.

*****

“So you decided to stow away? To what? Protect me from my actual family member because you had horrible people paid to raise you?”

*****

Crosshair remembered pain and fear and exhaustion, learning to check corners not for enemy soldiers but for angry trainers looking to take out any and all frustration on him. The only real safety was to be found with his brothers, their little band with its four members, four sides in stable square, with no blind corners.

*****

“I came along because none of us had to be alone on Kamino. We had each other. I don’t want you to—”

*****

Zara remembered sunshine and laughter and safety, the knowledge that everyone in the Temple wanted what was best for her and for her to become the best Jedi she could be. She had her creche mom and her master and her master’s master and her master’s friends and her friends’ masters and all of them working to better each other and her and the galaxy around them and expecting nothing in return.

*****

“You don’t want me to trust someone I shouldn’t? Who gets to make that choice? Do you need him to fill out an application? Run a background check? If that’s the case, you might want to run one on me too—I’ve done some questionable shit, you know!”

“You just—trust—everyone!”

Zara clenched her fists and inhaled sharply. “Actually,” she growled, “I trust very few people, but I value the ones I do trust, and I work to maintain a mutual level of trust. Fenn Rau is the only person alive who I knew more than ten years ago. And the other two people I’ve known for even halfway close to that long are bounty hunters. Everyone from my old life is dead. I will not turn away from this last person. Not now.”

She took four steps back down the hallway before spinning on her heel and storming back. “And you, Crosshair—” she jammed a finger in his chest, “—you had better learn how to trust people, because it’s a big kriffing galaxy, and it’s a terrible place to be alone. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

*****

He remembered late nights in the barracks, talking and laughing with the other three, the worries and stresses of the day forgotten in those moments over games of dejarik and smuggled snacks from 99.

He was never quite sure if it was because of or in spite of their training that they were so inseparable, so united, so devoted to each other. Maybe both. No matter the pain it took, cadet-hood had forged their bond as brothers, and they would never be alone.

@summer-of-bad-batch

[uncloseted]

i feel like your taste is so chic and effortlessly cool, so what are your current favorites? anything as far as trinkets, skincare, movies, foods, creators, music ect! I feel like you spend so much time giving advice that it would be fun to learn a lil more about what makes you happy lately! hope you're having a good day!!!

That's so nice of you! I've been collecting the things I've been loving over the past few days and here's what I came up with:

Clothes, makeup, and hair:

Essie Expressie Seize the Minute quick dry nail polish, which is a really nice red with blue undertones

Lisa Says Gah Museo Bianco Elizabeth Dress, which I bought secondhand off Depop. I got it for my trip to Greece but I'm worried it's a little too on the nose so I'm not sure if I'll bring it yet (still very cute though)

Uniqlo Wide Straight Jeans. They're just the right amount of slouchy

This matching set from Amazon. I've been wanting a set like this for a few months now and I ended up being so pleasantly surprised with this one. It ended up being way cuter than in the product pictures and fitting really well

Inkey List Vitamin C Serum. It's made my skin tone way more even and bright, and they're a clean, cruelty free brand

Tir Tir Red Cushion foundation. Mostly I bought it because I think the packaging looks really chic, but the product provides a really nice, buildable coverage as well

Jones Road Miracle Balm in Au Natural. This one I got as a gift and at first I didn't really get how you were supposed to use it, but now I'm really into it. It gives the nicest dewy glow without looking shiny.

Video Essays:

Jenny Nicholson's "The Spectacular Failure of the Star Wars Hotel". She hated the part of the experience that I worked on as much as I hated working on it, so I feel vindicated 😭. If you've ever wondered what it was like to stay at Star Wars: Galactic Starcruiser, this answers that question in such intricate detail that by the end of it you'll feel like you actually went

Quinton Reviews' "The Failure of Victorious" and "The End of Victorious". As you might guess from the titles, it's about the Nickelodeon show Victorious and why it was such a failure. Is this the second time I've watched all thirteen hours of this? Yes. Do I regret it? No, not really.

PhilosophyTube in general, but especially her recent video "I Read The Most Misunderstood Philosopher in the World" which is about Judith Butler's philosophy of gender.

Music:

Chappell Roan. It's Pride month, I'm a queer woman, enough said

I've been getting back into Marina lately, especially her newest album, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land. She's always been my pick out of the Tumblr sad girl musicians and I'm really impressed with how her music (and her public persona) has grown and changed over the years

I Only Have Eyes for You by Tashaki Miyaki. I heard this song years ago and it randomly popped into my head the other day and would not leave. It's just very vibey

TV:

Doctor Who with Ncuti Gatwa. I'm in love with him and I think his take on The Doctor is perfect.

Legion. I mostly started watching this because my girl Lauren Tsai is in the third season, but I love it. I think it's a really unique take on the superhero genre.

Bee and Puppycat. This is a show about a girl named Bee and her best friend/pet who is a mysterious creature who looks kind of like a cat and kind of like a dog. They take temporary jobs so that they can afford to buy snacks and leather jackets. It's a really special show, and I've watched it a few times now. The original series is on YouTube, and there's also a series on Netflix that expands on the original episodes.

Books:

Babel by RF Kuang. I'm reading this for a book club and I'm really enjoying it so far. It's about a child in an alternative-reality 1830s England who is adopted from China and taken to Oxford University to study the art of translation.

Emily Wilson's translation of The Odyssey. I've actually never read The Odyssey before because I am bad at being Greek and also at being a supposed descendant of Homer. Dr. Wilson is the first woman to translate The Odyssey into English

Games:

I just finished playing Planet of Lana, which is a really gorgeous puzzle-platformer inspired by the aesthetics of Studio Ghibli films and the gameplay of Playdead games such as Limbo and Inside. It has a great story about a girl who's looking for her sister, who has been abducted by hostile alien machines.

Places:

Wasteland secondhand stores in LA. I've been finding a lot of really great pieces there in the past few weeks, and the pieces I've found there have been around 75-90% off their original price.

La La Kind Cafe. I go to these when I need to convince myself to leave my house. They have a good vibe and the drinks are great.

Miscellaneous Stuff:

Nicola Coughlan. I've been watching all of the interviews she's doing for Bridgerton and I'm obsessed with her whole vibe. Her new dark comedy show about a woman with bipolar disorder, Big Mood, is also really great.

Earscapes. I reopened a bunch of old piercings I had and I'm having so much fun trying different combinations of earrings in them. I honestly can't believe I left them closed for so long.

Using lipstick as blush. I have such a hard time finding blush colors that work for me and then finding a blush that goes with my lipstick. So instead what I've been doing lately is putting on my lipstick, blotting it with my finger, and then using the leftover on my cheeks. It works super well and it means I can stop buying new blush products

This sardine tin makeup pouch. I haven't gotten it yet so I can't tell you how it is, but I just thought it looked so cute, and I needed a makeup bag for travel. I'll let you know if it ends up being good

Baths, just as a general concept. My old apartment didn't have enough hot water to fill up a bath, so I never used to take them, but they're so great? I got this full body bath pillow, which has made it was more comfortable to just relax there.

[lemonylepid]

BIONICLE fanfic: Shattered

Contains OCs, dark setting, alternate timeline.

Takes place after the events of 2010 (in a way)

(May or may not continue this piece of fanfiction but let me know what you think.)

Chapter One I planted the purple and silver Great Huna into the sand, the cavernous eyehole enraptured by the shadow of the moonlight. The glint from the fire behind me danced across the polished surface. I took my Agori cloth, now worn and tattered after cycles of use, and began rubbing away the grime.

"You don't have to take care of me, you know."

I smiled a small bit, staring into the empty mask. I could see a vague reflection of my own fading deep blue eyes on the forehead. My Kakama was caked with rust from the harsh sand, but I kept his nice and clean.

"Of course I do, what would you do without me? Go on your own adventures?"

I put the rag away, and gently brushed my hand across the smooth and shiny protodermis.

"You know me, I can't handle adventures. I'd rather stick to carving."

"And that's why I need to protect you, Tuali."

I moved my hand away from the cool metal and turned to the fire. He keeps saying my name, he doesn't want me to forget it. He knows I've been struggling lately with that. Tuali, Tuali, I need to keep that close. I know his name, I promise I do. I just can't remember it right now.

"We need to rest for now, I think. Do you think you can sleep alright over there?"

"I'll be fine, you keep warm by the fire."

I nodded a bit, confirming his choice. He seems to never mind the cold. I laid by the warm fire, flames lighting up the edges of my grime-covered armor. I feel my eyes close, and I fight it for just a moment, but ultimately I succumb to the darkness and drift to sleep.

As I escape the confines of Makuta's lifeless vessel, I feel myself both blinded and sizzling in the hot sun of a desert. The ground is sharp and solid, cracking beneath my heavy footsteps. I have to give myself pause, just to adjust, but hands from behind me push and shove to escape just as I did. I shout a name, but hear nothing. Was I deaf? I shout again, nothing. Why can't I hear that name? Why can't I hear anything? I shield my eyes from the sun and look up.

Past the sunlight I see the sky alight with a hazy orange, as if it was on fire. The ground beneath me trembles, and through the pushes and shoves comes a familiar hand. I grasp it and look at the owner. It's him, the one I was calling. I recognize the mask, that beautiful purple. A Great Huna. But his eyes, where were his eyes? I guess I don't remember those either. Nothing greets me but a void. The matoran points to the sky, I can read his mouthgrill. The sky is falling, do you see it?

Waking up is never easy. Especially from a memory. I can see the white embers from the night's fire, and I can feel the sun bleaching and peeling my paint. I let out a stirring groan, and I feel the gears inside me struggle to move and engage with each other.

"Oh good, you're up. How did you sleep, Tuali?"

There's my name again. Another reminder. Finally with a click my internal clutch clatters into place, and I can move. I lift myself up, my roasted armor hissing as a few drops of condensation finds its way down my arms.

"I dreamed about another memory, I think. Places I've been."

"I dreamed about a star."

He always dreams about stars. Every night he tells me so. I wonder why? I stand on my feet, wobbling slightly. I can feel sand settle in places it shouldn't, but I can't bring myself to care about my own maintenance. I step over to the mask and remove it from the sand, grains sifting away through the crevasses.

"Do you want me to carry anything?"

"No, I can handle it. You keep your energy, it's a long trip."

I grab the rope at my hip and fasten a loop to the crown of the mask, gently letting it dangle there. I then grab my hefty rucksack, full of bark and wood from a nearby abandoned village. The only trees I've seen for Kio. I also kept a small blade inside, just in case there are any Rahi.

"I'm ready if you're ready."

I took a look at the distant horizon. Our campsite cliff side overlooked our destination. Shattered remains of robotic components scattered the land, surrounded by sparkling glass. Embedded into the surface, a carcass of an incredible being laid absolutely destroyed. From what I understood, this was Mata-Nui. We came from a similar yet much larger desecrated robot, the body of the monstrous titan Makuta. Behind Mata-Nui was a massive glowing ocean, our destination. Beyond that, almost transparent in the haze of the horizon, was a blackened, scorched, broken moon of unimaginable size.

"I guess I am. Our goal is in sight."

"Excellent, Tuali."

[ticklish-touch]

So I thought I already posted this but then I saw it sitting in my drafts, whoops

I don't actually have a fully cleaned-up profile pic for Laurence yet. The entire reason I drew him with his hands in his pockets to begin with was to have him pull out a bunch of tickle-tools with a shitty grin. It'll happen eventually, lmao.

In the meantime, his full bio is below the cut!

Name: Laurence

Alias: Laurie, Laffy Taffy (or just Taffy). He dislikes Larry and will purposely ignore it.

Race: Human

Age: 28

Pronouns: He/They

Height: 7'0"

Sexuality: Pansexual, gynesexual (a preference for women and/or feminine-leaning) - is very respectful of trans and NB peeps who do not want to be perceived as female.

Personality: Overall he's a gentle giant. Outside of costume, he's quiet, soft-spoken, and keeps to himself. He seems low-energy and a little melancholy. His playful, fun-loving demeanor comes out more when he's having fun at arcades, movies, amusement parks etc. but he's still more energetic in costume, where he allows himself to be goofy and theatrical, and feels like he can be more true to himself. A bit of a cheeky prankster. Very protective & paternal towards his friends.

Likes: Performing, clowns & circuses, making people laugh, partying, amusement parks, arcades, sweets (especially taffy), tickling, making children happy, animated media (mostly adult animated comedies), cute clown ladies & big boobs

Dislikes: Horror (especially 'evil clown' stereotypes), overly-controlling parents, being alone, circuses that still practice animal performing. Very nervous in front of crowds when he's not in costume.

As a Ler: Devilishly playful, will pry someone to reveal their ticklish spots. He's typically gentle, but can be more intense if his partner wishes. He likes to go for unconventional spots (back, palms, ankles, cheeks, etc). He's very good at faking out his partner and keeping them guessing. He always has a good amount of tickle tools packed away in his duffels & suitcases, and in his jumpsuit pockets.

As a lee: He's very shy about being tickled, since he's usually the Ler, but he thinks it feels very nice and he enjoys the attention. But expect him to take revenge~ If you tie him up, chances are he'll find a way to slip free.

Ticklish spots: His feet, knees, ears & jawline are his worst spots. Loves belly tickles even though it's not super ticklish, because he likes positive affirmations about his belly pudge.

Other:

• Very skilled at improv comedy

• He's amazing at slight-of-hand and lock-picking. People sometimes wonder why he's a clown and not a magician.

• Good at playing piano and accordion

• Outside of costume he often wears eyeshadow, nail polish, and minimalistic clowncore clothes.

• He's very charismatic and observant. He likes to learn as much as he can about people and is excellent at networking.

• He occasionally makes & dyes his own jumpsuits. He always uses costume contacts and temporary hair dyes or wigs for his acts.

Some alternate outfits:

• Despite being very dexterous with his hands, he's a klutz that tends to trip over nothing or run into everything because of his height. He's jealous of, and has a lot of respect for, acrobats.

• He has a goofy Seth Rogen-ish laugh that he's self-conscious of unless in costume.

• He has belly pudge from his many years of eating sweets & getting munchies. It's just not noticeable under his baggy jumpsuits.

• He's friends with drag queens & dresses in drag himself from time to time.

• He gets high/drunk frequently, but he doesn't do it alone, and is very conscientious of not going overboard.

• He gets very shy and flustered around cute clown girls.

• He has a wide, toothy smile that is considered unnerving & intimidating by many. Very effective as a Ler smile~

Background:

Laurence always loved theater & performing, especially at circuses. He was in theater classes for the majority of his middle and high school years. He eventually insisted to his mom that he would like to be a circus performer, or at least a party clown to start with, and she more or less laughed him off. She and his teachers all insisted he use his skills in networking and coordinating for something more "useful" or lucrative, like a manager or director. She even partially hoped he would keep performing as a hobby and pursue other careers. This caused a rift to form between them, and made him feel like he had to hide his true passions and personality. But in spite of their discouragement, he got a degree in performing arts and started landing circus gigs.

Over the years, he began to realize he had a tickle kink. He adored peoples' laughter, and got a rush out of tickling & being tickled. In his early twenties, he browsed dating sites, servers, forums, etc seeking out other knismos - especially people who had an affinity for clowns. Using this knowledge, as well as his knack for networking and lock-picking, he began to seek the thrill of tracking down people who are interested in sessions, essentially becoming a serial tickler. He doesn't do much to hide this 'hobby', he just asks his partners to keep his real name & identity under wraps. But encourages them to spread rumors about the infamous Tickle Clown so that he can reach out to more potential playmates~

He works as an event coordinator for his local theater, which he's started doing remotely as he travels more & finds performing troupes to join.

[creamypudding]

Siren Songs

Rated E 20 Chapters Tags: Alternate Universe - Pirates, Omega Verse, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Sexual Reproductive Parts, Anal Sex, Blood and Violence, Bonding, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling in Love, Fluff and Smut, Marking, Multiple Sexual Partners, Murder, Stillbirth, Uncontrollable Heat, Unplanned Pregnancy, Happy Ending. Summary:

Cloud is a lowly omega, 'serving' aboard a SHINRA naval vessel. Zack is a pirate captain with a two-fold agenda: make life hell for SHINRA and rescue wayward omegas, taking them to safety. Cloud never met anyone who genuinely seemed to care for him or made him feel like he was worth more than what was between his legs. He wishes Zack would stop being so damn respectful. He wishes they could find a way to be together, but he knows the end goal the pirate captain has in mind for him, and he couldn't disagree more with it.

Chapter 5: Costa del Sol

Cloud gets taken out for a shopping trip.

Excerpt:

The ship is anchored in a cove. Half the crew is off doing who knows what while the other remains onboard because they have duties or they simply don't want to be on land.

Cloud's sweating in his fresh clothes, which are still too big for him, but less threadbare and covered in patches compared to his previous hand-me-downs.

The warm wind whips and tousles his hair as he stands by the ladder leading down to the cockboat, while he waits to meet Zack to go into town with. The coastal town of Costa del Sol is around the other side of the island. It wouldn't go down well for the Howling Storm to dock near there, so that means a longer journey in, and a longer journey to shore.

Cloud gulps looking at the boat rising and falling and at waves crashing on shore.

Cloud tears his sights off the turbulence ahead. “Are you coming?” he asks Kunsel, who is milling about.

“Oh, no. I've gotta keep this lot in line. Jorgen and Twee've been sent to fetch a horse and cart. If the Captain ever gets his ass up on deck the cart should be there by the time you get to shore.”

“I'm here. I'm here. It takes time to look this good, Kun.” Zack appears, though for a moment Cloud struggles to recognize him.

He’s clean shaven and his hair’s tied back. The man is dressed in a purple velveteen coat, with a puffy ruffled shirt underneath, and matching purple silken trousers to finish the polished look. He’s adorned with a scarf around his neck, some other silks hanging from his pockets, and several pieces of jewelry: one draped around his neck and hanging around his chest, another one fastened to his breast, and several rings on his fingers.

Keep read HERE.