#and I mean that in the most positive possible way

[swordandscytheandpen]

Gonna be a little less polite and graceful than you, Ezra, sorry.

Notably absent from OP's post is any explanation or indication as to why one needs to "enjoy every step." It's all pure assertion, a cavalcade of moralizing "should" statements that only carry weight for those who are already convinced that AI developers are a witches' coven. Any particular reason a creator shouldn't focus on the end product? Any explanation as to why solving "the problems along the way" are so strictly required for accomplishment and authorship? No, OP's just dictating how other artists should and shouldn't engage with the creative process, which ironically has the effect of flattening the wonderfully diverse methods of artistic creation into a single orthodox Proper Way To Do Things. Artists, writers, musicians don't owe you a particular artistic process, they can and should use what creative modes and tools they see fit, up to and including LLMs, because choosing what resources to use, and how, is a creative decision too.

Guess what? I like writing, start to finish. For me, it's perhaps the only art form that is true for. I avoid using LLMs for creative-writing tasks because I enjoy having maximal influence over every step of the process. Yet I can recognize that this is not true, or indeed possible, for every writer. My own use case makes LLMs an unpreferable tool to use. That doesn't mean I begrudge the tool itself, or the authors who do choose to make use of that medium. I'm capable of recognizing that different artists have different methods, and that is a beautiful truth that feeds into the variety of works humankind is able to create.

Blanket opposition to LLM technology in creative contexts has no positive results. It's just another breed of purposeless reaction, and I have no idea why it's so widespread. You're policing people's means of expressing themselves, to nobody's benefit. OP, I'm glad that you get the most satisfaction from deeply engaging with the entire hands-on process; you've found the method that works for you. I do not always get that same satisfaction, and I can find first-drafting a bit tedious at times, but I do it anyway because that's how I can best forge the end product I desire. Some others wish to project their thoughts onto a canvas or page, but don't feel the need to stick their hands into every brushstroke or line of text to create a work that brings them joy and fulfillment. Why tell them how to make their art? You wouldn't do that with anyone else. Mind your own damn business.

Unpopular opinion but if you don't enjoy the process you should find a different thing to do.

And I think this is true in general but now I'm talking about it in the context of AI.

If you don't enjoy making art and only care about the end piece and how it'll look and how much traction it"lol get online then making art is not something for you, find something you enjoy from start to finish.

Same goes for writing: if you do not enjoy writing and rewriting and then some more and instead want AI to write for you, being a writer is not something you should pursue.

Sure, not every part of creative process is going to be equally enjoyable but you should get satisfaction from solving the problems along the way and you should get a sense of accomplishment on your way of "making the piece yours" and you should have a sense of ownership once you are done.

None of these things will come from typing in a prompt into chatGPT. And I am sad to see so many people are missing on the opportunity to experience the joy of making something with their own hands and brains.

[jinx-xxed]

Sweet Mornings

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A/N; I am so insanely down bad for this man rn so I decided to finally try writing something for him!! This is in honor of him getting let out of rerun jail after over a year, I hope you enjoy ^_^

Summary; Wriothesley has to get as much of you as he can before your trip…

Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, pure fluff, you’re a mechanics/weapons researcher, very domestic, morning sex, fingering, soft Wriothesley, marking, multiple orgasms, aftercare, he doesn’t want you to leave </3

Wc; 5.1k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Low, metallic ticks and hums fill your ears as you steadily wake from sleep. The ambience of the Fortress is a familiar symphony, always there in the quiet hours before a day starts or after it’s over. When you started working down here, you quickly became so used to the noise to the point it’s like it’s not even there most of the time. You stretch in your bed, black sheets pooling around your body, and that’s when your attention shifts.

There’s gentle kisses being placed along your neck, eliciting a soft hum from you as you finally crack your eyes open. You move your head slightly to look at the man beside you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours in the darkness. “Morning.” Wriothesley says with a small smirk on his lips, returning to his ministrations on your skin.

“Good morning… how long have you been up?” You ask teasingly, a brow raised. You’re no stranger to waking up to his care since he always seems to be awake before you, and he can never keep himself away from you.

He chuckles, the raspy sound making you shudder. He feigns innocence, “only a few minutes this time.” One of his hands moves beneath the sheets, getting under your shirt to splay a large, warm palm against the softness of your stomach. It snakes up further, his fingers skating lovingly along your skin before cupping a breast in his hand. He squeezes as you shift in his grip, arching your body against his experimentally. He’s definitely hard. He pulls you ever closer and buries his nose in the crook of your neck, groaning. “What am I gonna do without you…”

Ah, right. Your trip.

The time has come again for your annual journey to Sumeru for the convention that’s held for inventors just like yourself. It’s an event to share ideas and new creations and research, full of so many brilliant minds that it’s something you always look forward to. The organizers even offered for you to be a speaker this year, saying how impressed the Akademiya was with your progress on the study of robotics and weaponry. You’d gladly accepted and have been preparing your speech ever since with Wriothesley as your test audience.

You wish he could come with you. You know he’d enjoy all the new sights and seeing the inventions people have come up with just like you do, but his position just doesn’t grant him the possibility. So that means you have to leave him and the Fortress for a week. You already know how badly you’ll miss him, having gotten so accustomed to his presence these past ten months. Getting to know what’s beneath the gruff exterior of the Duke has been a joy and you think yourself lucky to be considered his lover and to be able to share his bed.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by his fingers sneaking under the waistband of your underwear, your breath hitching. They go further, immediately finding your clit and drawing slow circles. Pleasure sparks at the bottom of your spine, a little whine leaving you as Wriothesley’s nose nudges your jaw, his messy black and silver hair tickling your cheek. He leaves kisses wherever he can reach with you both on your sides, his other arm secured diagonally across your middle to keep you against him—right where he wants you.

His fingers drag up through your drenched folds, collecting the slick there and using it as he rubs your clit. “So wet already.” He murmurs against your ear, his words breathy and hot. You can feel the way his erection rubs against your ass through his boxers, his own arousal painfully evident. Despite that, he’ll take his time with you like he always does, only ever caring about your own pleasure before his.

There’s a knot steadily building in your gut, a familiar feeling that you know the end result of. It makes your blood sing, your face becoming flushed as Wriothesley works you with expertise. You writhe against the hard planes of his bare chest when his fingers move downwards, briefly teasing your entrance before sinking two digits into the plush heat. You both moan in tandem, his fingers filling your aching pussy in the way you’d been craving, more arousal dripping along the back of his hand.

He begins a slow pace, drawing in and out and applying pressure in just the right spots. He angles himself so that the heel of his palm presses against your clit at the same time, making sure to leave nothing unattended. You bite your lip and groan, your chest heaving and your head falling back against the pillows. Your shirt has been pushed all the way up, exposing your breasts to the frigid air of Wriothesley’s bedroom and making your nipples perk. He takes full advantage, pinching each one in turn between his index and thumb, the feeling of his callouses making you whimper.

He quickens the thrusting of his fingers into your cunt, recognizing the way you begin to tense and flutter around him. He’s eager, his breath coming in pants and his hips rutting against your ass, desperate to get some kind of friction on his clothed cock. That knot from before grows larger, ready to come undone while pleasure burns like a fire beneath your skin. He manages to get a third finger into your tight pussy, stretching you wide and going as deep as he can while still abusing your clit.

“Oh fuck- Wrio-!“ You whine his name in a way that’s music to his ears, fueling his movements even more. He loves every sound you make, but he especially loves the ones in the morning when everything is quieter and breathless, like the world is only you two in that moment.

You finally break with one final thrust, your orgasm washing over you like a wave, a choked moan the only sound you can manage. You lay there for a moment, your body going limp and basking in the pleasure, before you’re craning your neck and reaching back a hand to pull Wriothesley in. You get to kiss him at last, his mouth plush and pliant against yours as your fingers card through his surprisingly silky hair. You always enjoy him a little more like this, free of his arm wrappings and cold metal. When the Duke is left behind and you have just Wriothesley—your lover. When his edges are softened, his tension laid to rest, and he can simply be himself.

Wriothesley holds you to him as your tongue presses against his own, basking in the warmth of your body. He doesn’t break your kiss even as he works down below, pulling the covers back and tugging on your soaked underwear. He throws it across the room to be picked up later once it’s finally off. He then frees his cock at last, precum beading on the tip, an appreciative groan sounding in his chest. You separate from him with a gasp when you feel his shaft rubbing between your folds, gathering your slick as his tip prods your clit with each shift of his hips.

He hums, kissing the corner of your mouth and moving down to your jaw and neck. “You’re so sensitive in the mornings.” He says like he’s making a note of it, his hand running up and down your thigh.

You groan, the temptation of him getting to be too much. “Wrio, please..”

He can’t help but smirk, those blue eyes gleaming. He leans in, his voice quiet and rumbly. “Please what, sweetheart?”

“Please… I need you.” You whisper, your hands latching onto his arm, taking comfort in the strong muscle and warm, scarred skin. His face instantly softens, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he kisses you again. Oh, he can never deny you. It’s that moment that Wriothesley finally presses his cock into your hot cunt, both of you moaning in relief. He slides in slowly, your pussy stretching to accommodate him inch by inch. He fills you in a way nothing else ever could and just when you think you may burst from it, he bottoms out.

Wriothesley groans at the way you take him fully, the way you seem to suck him in so he never wants to leave. The feeling manages to stun him every time, no matter how much he takes you to bed. “That’s my girl,” he says through clenched teeth, his breath coming out in little hisses. There’s a brief pause that you use to get over the initial shock before the desire to pump you full starts to gnaw at him and you eagerly wriggle in his hold.

The first thrust is bliss, Wriothesley slowly drawing out all the way to the tip and then slamming back in. He loves the way your body reacts—the little twitches of your muscles, the way your walls flutter and clench around him. He quickly finds his pace, something steady and easy and satisfying for you both. He could never be rough with you this early in the morning, not when your body is still soft from sleep, the blue light of the ocean illuminating your form just right and your little noises a quiet song for only him to hear.

He hooks a hand under your thigh, lifting it with ease and holding it there, giving him better access to your cunt so he can hit that spot he knows drives you insane. He can tell he’s doing just that with the way your moans grow in pitch and the way you latch on to him so desperately, needing him even closer. It makes his heart swell, feeling your touch on him and seeing how you crave him so badly. He used to think it impossible for someone to want him beyond a one night stand and yet here you are, proving him wrong day after day. Fuck, he loves you so much.

Wriothesley kisses you passionately while you take him as deep as possible so willingly, like you were made for him. You’re his sanctuary within the Fortress, his slice of heaven that he wants to keep all to himself. His lips trail down your jaw to your neck and this time he kisses with more purpose. He sucks at your skin, eager to leave his mark on you with his tongue and little nips of his teeth, his sharp canines threatening to break skin if he applies just a bit more pressure. You hum approvingly, moving your head to the side to give him more access. He then goes beyond your neck, also leaving marks across your collarbones until he’s satisfied.

His thrusts begin to grow erratic, the threat of release tingling in his muscles. Wriothesley knows you’re close too with the way you tense up, your nails biting into his skin. He reaches his free hand between your legs, finding your clit once more and rubbing quick circles, determined to have you cum at the same time. It’s an easy feat, given how responsive you are to him and how little resistance you put up. It only takes a few more thrusts before you’re clenching and coming on his cock with a moan. The feeling is otherworldly and has him tumbling over the edge after you with a curse, his hot spend painting your walls white.

You go weak against him as you both lay there sharing breath with heaving chests, your limbs feeling like jelly and buzzing with ecstasy from the double orgasm. He sets your leg down gently, both of his arms now wrapping around you to meld you to him. You don’t hesitate to snuggle into his warmth, very much enjoying the feeling of his large body encompassing yours. He relishes in this moment of intimacy, taking all he can get now before you leave him. He needs to make sure to burn the memory of this morning into his brain so he can look back on it during the week to come.

“I love you.” He murmurs, kissing your temple.

You smile, twisting around in his grip so that you’re now facing each other. You nuzzle against his jaw where there’s just a hint of stubble and you breathe him in, his familiar scent immediately soothing. “I love you too.”

He buries his face into the crook of your neck again, his breath tickling your skin. “I should handcuff you to this bed so you can’t leave…” He mutters lowly, like he’s not entirely joking.

You laugh, your hand coming up to run through his hair. “It’s only a week, I’ll be back before you know it.” He grumbles indistinctly and you smile, rubbing circles on his scarred back. It’s endearing that such a big, intimidating man like Wriothesley is going to miss you so much. It’s a massive contrast to your past partners who always had something negative to say about your work. You were gone too much, you were too distracted, or they just thought it was pointless to begin with. They never understood how important your work is to you, but Wriothesley does.

You came to Fontaine and subsequently the Fortress about two years ago after leaving the Akademiya in Sumeru, having decided that Fontaine would be much better suited for your line of work with machinery. It took a while to find somewhere that seemed suited for you before hearing about the Fortress of Meropide and the gardemek production factory located on the lower levels. It seemed perfect. You pursued a position within the Fortress, having to meet with both Neuvillette and Wriothesley before you were accepted. You’d promised to be completely transparent with any and all research you conducted, any new projects or inventions, and you’d swore to not interfere with any Fortress occupants.

Wriothesley was definitely suspicious of you at first, thinking you were just another sparkly eyed researcher who didn’t know what she was doing, but he was quickly proven wrong. You showed him all of your notes on the gardemeks, how their functionality could be improved and how to avoid any deviants, and all the weapons and tools you’d created. One of the weapons was your own, a sharpshooter rifle that you’ve been able to infuse with the power of your vision. The thing doesn’t even look like its base model anymore after all the modifications you gave it.

You steadily made a home in the Fortress, working day in and day out in your office, happy to fully immerse yourself. You didn’t see Wriothesley much at first of course, the man always busy actually running the Fortress, but after a couple months, he invited you to have tea with him. You accepted, and though you worried it was actually a meeting to kick you out of the Fortress, it turned out to be quite pleasant. He asked you questions about your work and backstory and listened to every long response you gave. The way he’d give you his full attention would make a flush creep up the back of your neck.

You had more and more of these meet ups with him, where you both just sat in his office drinking tea and talking. Then it turned into you bringing some of your work in there and you’d sit on the couch tinkering with metal parts while he sat at his desk filing papers. It was comfortable and easy and you appreciated his company like he did yours. Your feelings for him definitely grew the more you were around him. His witty remarks and rough exterior captivated you and you wanted to know more about him. You wanted to see him every day, to see those softer sides of him that sometimes came out during your tea breaks.

Then, ten months ago, he surprised you by asking you to go out with him. You agreed, of course. You hadn’t known he shared your same feelings but you’d been overjoyed to find someone with a similar mindset as you, someone who didn’t care about the way you worked because he worked the same way.

So now here you are, fucked out first thing in the morning with Wriothesley’s arms securely around you. He seems like he might fall back asleep with the way his eyes are closed and his breathing is slowing down, but there’s a question you still need to ask, one that’s been gnawing at you. Too many old memories of past partners has left you anxious—something you admittedly still need to improve on.

“Hey, Wrio?”

“Hm?”

You hesitate for a second, thinking maybe it’s a dumb question after all, but you push past it. “You’ll see me off, won’t you?”

His eyes open at that, those icy blue depths piercing you. He props himself up on an elbow to look at you, his brows creasing ever so slightly. “Of course I will.” He says it so simply that you realize how silly it was for you to worry. He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle. “I cleared my schedule for you.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief. You know how packed his itinerary is on any given day so you can’t even believe what he just said. “Really?”

He chuckles. “Yes really, sweetheart. I put in some more hours these last few days so I wouldn’t have so much to worry about today.” He says. “Now come on, we should start getting ready. Those boats leave early.”

He detaches himself from you, his heat sorely missed, and slips out of bed. He heads towards the bathroom and turns on the shower, letting it run while he comes back for you so it can get warm. Before your feet even have the chance to hit the floor, he gets a hand under your knees and scoops you up, making you yelp. He grins while you cling to him, his strong arms cradling you against his chest.

He sets you down in the bathroom, kissing the top of your head before checking the water temperature. Standing there, watching him, you realize your heart hasn’t felt this full in a long time.

» ☆ «

Wriothesley’s office is in disarray. It’s entirely your doing, with the contents of your carrying case strewn about as you finally pack in all of your inventions. You’d been working on them until the very last minute, trying to make sure everything is perfect. You’re double checking the rest of your bags while you’re at it, attempting to make sure you have all your items and to relax the anxiety you feel. What if, in some awful scenario, you forget one of your showcase pieces? Or your notes? Or your Akademiya robes?

Wriothesley simply watches you from his spot leaning against his desk, tea cup in hand. He knows he can’t help you, you have a method to your madness and if he interferes then it’ll mess you all up. So he stands back, waiting for you to finish so you can eat your breakfast. He’d gotten it brought to his office after your shower together, a simple meal of a breakfast croissant sandwich and tea, but yours still remains untouched, the steam on your drink having long since died down. He looks up when you loudly groan in frustration.

“Where’d that other damn capacitor go?” You mutter, rifling through your things on the floor to no avail.

“Over there, sweetheart.” He says, motioning to where the metal piece had rolled under the couch. He noticed it a few minutes ago but decided not to disturb you, knowing you’d realize sooner or later.

“Ah, thanks.” You say, quickly snatching it and sticking it with some other spare parts in the case. You work efficiently to get everything packed in and wrapped in cushioning so nothing gets damaged. To Wriothesley, it’s like watching someone play an expert puzzle game with the way you manage to fit so much into such tiny spaces with room to spare.

You sit back on your heels after another twenty minutes, a satisfied huff leaving you. “There. That should be everything.” You say, looking over the two-page long checklist you have. All the boxes are ticked off, some even being ticked off twice.

He chuckles, putting his finished tea down to cross his arms. “Good. Now will you please eat?”

You playfully sigh. “Fine, fine.”

You scarf down the sandwich, your hunger suddenly coming out in full force and taking what it can get. You use the tea to wash it down, noticing it’s one of Wriothesley’s fruitier blends. His tea choice changes each day, unless he gets fixated on a singular flavor. You make a game of it sometimes where he’ll test you to see if you can guess which brew he used; your results have been very 50/50.

When there’s nothing but crumbs left on your plate, you look towards the clock on the wall. It’s definitely time for you to get going. You gather your bags with Wriothesley’s help, then looking to him before descending the stairs of his office. “Ready?”

“Mhm. Are you? You sure you got everything?” He says teasingly, one eyebrow raised.

You scoff with a smirk, eyes rolling, and begin walking down the stairs as he laughs. “Don’t you even start.” You refuse to let him get to you, knowing your trusty checklist would never lie to you.

You walk through the main floor of the Fortress together, which is mostly empty except for the guards at this hour. A few of them wish you safe travels as you go, surprising you. Just as you’re about to get into the elevator, Sigewinne catches you to give you a goodbye hug and tell you to be careful since she won’t be around to fix you up. You have to use the elevator ride to compose yourself before you reach the entrance to the Fortress. It was all unexpected—you didn’t think so many people would notice your absence. It makes you smile to yourself.

You both get onto the first boat of the day, the one that’ll take you to the Fortress registration office that sits deep below the Opera Epiclese. The ride is smooth, the operator being a little extra polite and maybe a little fearful too because of Wriothesley joining you. You find it amusing to see everyone be so intimidated by the man who’d been snuggling you in bed only a few hours ago.

When the boat comes to a stop, you both clamber out and then into another elevator. As soon as it breaches the surface, you have to squint your eyes from the early morning sunlight. You bask in its warm rays as they hit your face, immediately washing away the chill of beneath the sea. You can see Wriothesley doing the same, his broad chest expanding as he takes a deep breath of the fresh air. Neither of you have been out of the Fortress for a while it seems.

You walk along the paths to Marcotte Station, enjoying the sounds of the birds chirping and leaves rustling as you go. It’s from there that you take an aquabus into the Court of Fontaine which is already bustling with people doing their morning shopping or taking a stroll. Not too many civilians recognize you, none of them concerned with memorizing the faces of the elusive Duke and his “sniper”, as you’ve sometimes been referred. The ones who do recognize you, though, stay out of your way or give you side glances. Fair enough.

On your journey to the next station, you grab a few pastries after your stomach started growling at you again. With all the walking, you’d burned through your morning sandwich quickly, and you’ll always take the opportunity to try some of the new foods the city has to offer. Anything is better than most of the food they have in the cafeteria down in the Fortress.

The Court of Fontaine Station is more crowded than you expected, full of people coming and going. You head to the second floor for the Clementine Line, the aquabus having just arrived. You have to refrain from laughing at the way Wriothesley has to squeeze between the crowds with his hulking form, the man looking painfully out of place. You think it’s adorable. You both get situated on the upper level of the aquabus, glad to be able to set down your bags for a while.

There’s less than an inch of space between you and Wriothesley, the warmth of his body against yours a comfort. You’d told him he didn’t have to come all this way with you, since you felt bad about dragging him across the region, but he’d insisted. Going with you would soothe his nerves, he said. It makes you feel funny, like butterflies in your stomach, and extremely fortunate. You still remember old partners that would brush you off, scoffing at you and half heartedly wishing you luck on your “silly trips” while saying they don’t want to waste all that time just to see you get on a boat.

The melusine at the head of the aquabus, Aeval, begins to speak, breaking you out of your thoughts as she gives her typical spiel. The aquabus comes to life, the engine releasing a healthy purr while it starts to churn the water beneath it. You look to your left, to Wriothesley. He’s reading one of the informational pamphlets they provide during the rides, one leg crossed over the other. You can’t help yourself from reaching forward and tapping the back of his wrapped hand, a simple way for you to communicate without speaking. He immediately flips his hand over for you so that you can place yours in it, your fingers intertwining.

“Breeze is nice, isn’t it?” He asks, tilting his face up and briefly shutting his eyes. His messy hair gently blows across his face, those silver strands more prominent in the sunlight.

You nod along absently. “Mhm.”

Wriothesley’s gaze finds yours as he looks you over. “You okay?” He says. It seems he noticed the small anxious twitches you thought you were hiding. He’s always been able to tell when your mind is running a bit too fast, your anxiety getting the better of you despite your best efforts. You constantly forget how perceptive he is until the moment he calls you out on your worrying.

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just…” you pause, debating what to say by rolling your lip between your teeth. You finally take a deep breath, bumping your shoulder against his. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

His expression softens, a gentle smile tilting his lips. “Of course, sweetheart. That’s not anything you need to thank me for, though. I wanted to see you off.” He says, squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“I know but…” you shrug, giving him a smile of your own, “I appreciate it regardless.”

It’s not much longer before the aquabus reaches Romaritime Harbor, Aeval giving her final notes on Fontaine scenery and wishing everyone a good day. You two follow the other passengers into the station, heading to the ground level where there’s already a crowd waiting. You recognize a few people, fellow researchers heading to the convention in Sumeru. It seems that makes up a majority, actually. Everyone has their multitude of bags that seem packed with fancy gadgets and inventions that they plan to show off just like you.

You hang back with Wriothesley, knowing you’ll have plenty of time to mingle on the long boat ride anyway. You listen to the rush of the massive waterfalls behind you, the mist brushing your skin. “I haven’t been out this far in a long time.” Wriothesley mutters, squinting into the distance as if he could see beyond the desert and into the heart of Sumeru.

“Last time I was here was for last year’s convention.” You say. You make a hmph sound. “We don’t get out much, do we?”

He laughs. “No, we don’t. The Fortress never really calls for it.”

“True.”

The aquabus at last rounds the corner of the desert, quickly approaching the harbor. This one is bigger than any of the aquabusses in the Fontaine stations, with three levels instead of two. People shuffle about, grabbing their bags and talking excitedly with one another. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself and facing Wriothesley. It’s finally time for you to say goodbye, no matter how much it pains you to see that subtle sadness in his eyes.

You know he’s not one for public displays of affection but you can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug, breathing him in one more time. He obliges you, his strong arms coming around you in turn. “I’ll miss you so much.” He says into your neck.

“Me too.” You say, rubbing your hands up and down his back. “I’ll be back in no time at all.” When you’re pulling away, you sneak a kiss to his cheek, making the both of you smile dumbly.

“Be safe, okay? Don’t be afraid to punch anybody.” Wriothesley tells you.

You chuckle. “You know I won’t.” He’s seen you in the ring enough times to know that.

He looks at you fondly, a soft sigh leaving him. He brushes some of your hair back, then leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “You’ll do great. Tell me all about it when you come back.”

You nod, grinning. “I will, I promise.”

By now the aquabus has docked in the harbor, people steadily climbing off while others wait to board. You gather all of your things. “Alright. I’ll see you in a week.” You say with as much determination as you can muster.

Wriothesley dips his head. “See you in a week. I love you.”

“Love you too, Wrio.” You respond, your heart feeling like it might burst out of your chest.

You finally make yourself follow the rest of the crowd onto the aquabus, managing to get a spot up top so you can catch all the pretty sights. You say hello to a few other inventors while you wait to depart, some of them recognizing you as one of the speakers for this year. It’s refreshing to see so many other eager young minds just like yours, the passion for their craft obvious.

When the aquabus finally begins to move away from the harbor, you find yourself at the railing. You’d expected him to have disappeared, to have begun his long trek back to the Fortress, to have been satisfied with seeing you to the aquabus—but Wriothesley is still standing there. You smile wide and wave goodbye to him, his hand lifting to do the same.

He doesn’t turn away until you’re nothing but a speck in the distance.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

The Miraculous fandom has some of the most creative people I know in it. I mean this, positive sense.

However that same talent becomes a problem when people cannot distinguish between a narrative beat and their own post-hoc justification.

The second is useful now and again when any sort of media misses a beat or takes a leap. ML fans carry the narrative on their backs.

It's telling that you have so many fanworks out there that are equally or more valid readings of the canon when they were published that have been completely obliterated by future development.

I'm not talking the wild takes. I'm not talking ML suddenly turning shonen, or coffee shop AU. I'm not even talking 'Adrien gets equal screen time.' Just 'with what we know, what comes next?' type fanfiction.

It's like canon is deliberately trying to dodge anything remotely predictable... but narrative beats are predictable for a reason. They work. They're good storytelling. A twist can be good storytelling, but only if it is better in every way then the not-twist.

You combine the shock-at-all-costs mentality with ML fandoms devotion and creativity and you get leaps of logic that would make a crypto seller blush. It ends up going downright unhealthy places at times.

I know their hearts are in the right place. I know they just care about the show they've sunk time and self into, but there are times you have to step back.

It doesn't mean you have to give up or turn away from the media. You just need to be willing to admit 'This episode/throughline/season/beat sucked'.

Then you hope it gets better.

Not doing this now and then is engaging in cult behavior.

(Post that spawned this ask)

I fully agree. People liking "bad" media doesn't bother me. What gets under my skin is people defending bad media. I'm in a book club and we all own that we like books that are objectively bad. We don't defend them as good, we just like the good parts enough to drown out the bad stuff. That's normal and fine. You don't have to limit yourself to perfect and pure art if such a thing even exists. I can name flaws in most of the things I like, I just think the good far outweighs the bad.

Miraculous is not some deep and complicated show that requires you to watch every episode. The writers have flat out said it is supposed to make sense even if you miss seemingly vital episodes. This means that trying to go the deep and nuanced route to explain the flaws doesn't work. This is a show for young children. It is supposed to be easy to follow. If it's not, then it has failed at its job! Little kids have no expectations to subvert. Shows like Miraculous are supposed to teach them how stories work so they can go on and watch more complex stuff when they're older. (For us adults, shows like Miraculous are supposed to be cute escapism that lets us feel like kids again.) If no one can possibly predict where a story is going next at a high level, then it's probably a bad story.

To be clear, I don't mean that every plot beat should be obvious. It's just that the longer a story goes, the more obvious things should feel as all the little elements of the story build and come together. This allows the audience to get excited about what's going to happen next and keeps them engaged. Stories where literally anything can happen no matter how little sense it makes aren't fun because you can't get invested in anything. I'll take a predictable ending over an impossible one any day.

A perfect example is the season three final. That final was all about Gabriel winning because he knew Chloe's identity. This is spelled out in the episode and the episode setup.

Miraculer set up:

Gabriel: Chloé Bourgeois must become Queen Bee again! Nathalie: Are you still considering making her an ally? I'm afraid Ladybug has grown reluctant to giving Chloé the Bee Miraculous. She's being very careful. Gabriel: Then I will get Chloé to force Ladybug to give it to her. All I need is for her to lose all hope in Ladybug. To become angry enough so I can akumatize her. (smirks evilly)

Ladybug: I'm sorry, Chloé. I should've told you this a long time ago. I might never be able to let you be Queen Bee again. Queen Bee: What? But I did everything you asked me to. Ladybug: I know. But this is for your own safety. It's too dangerous for you and your loved ones because Hawk Moth knows that you're Queen Bee.

Final pay off:

Hawk Moth: Try it and see for yourself. You're Ladybug's greatest fan. You've helped her, you've trusted her. And what has she done for you in return? Chloé: (gets angry) Nothing! She couldn't care less about me! I'm done with her. She's irrelevant, utterly irrelevant! (reaches out to grap the Miraculous, stops) I want you to de-akumatize has my parents first! Hawk Moth: Whatever you say, my queen. (Chloé takes the comb and puts it in her hair, releasing Pollen)

Since the final also includes every other temp hero being outed this should mean that season four will go on to have Ladybug and Chat Noir starting from scratch, but is that what happens?

Nope! The mass identity reveal means nothing and everything is fine to keep going as is. Chloé's identity reveal being a problem was a one-off fluke we don't need to think about.

There is no justification for that. You can decide that you're willing to let the flaw slide and keep watching, but there is no way to make this a good choice for the story. It was the start of the secret identities holding less and less weight to the point where a lot of people no longer care about the love square reveal because it's been so incredibly cheapened. Marinette keeping her identity from Chat Noir no longer makes sense when it was once pretty reasonable.

[saintsenara]

Perhaps not the point of your ongoing Snoldemort (Vape?) masterpiece, but I really like how you write Lily. She’s adventurous and determined and charismatic, but also utterly careless about Severus’ emotions and especially his poverty in a way that’s - for those of us who’ve been in the same boat - utterly demeaning. And I think that’s all clearly there in canon too! I know she’s rather underwritten due to her mystery being kept under wraps for 6.95 out of 7 books, but I don’t think she’s *quite* as underwritten as many people think considering she’s only got about 10 lines. So I really love it on the exceedingly rare occasions when she flashes up in fics to be less saintly and more…correct in most respects, but also such a dick about it.

i can't believe i've been foolishly persisting with "snapemort" as the ship name when "vape" was in front of me the whole time.

[a shot of lord voldemort listening to the radio broadcasts of the wizengamot...]

thank you very much for this lovely message about scylla and charybdis, anon! i'm delighted you're enjoying it.

the starting point for her characterisation in the fic was - basically - god forbid a teenage girl not be the most selfless person in history.

i'm always really struck [and completely unsurprised...] that both sides of the fandom debate about snape seem to focus a lot on lily's supposed saintliness. since i'm a snape fan, i end up seeing the anti-lily side of this fairly often - endless rounds of "well if she's so great why didn't she do exactly what snape wanted all the time? why did she simply not accommodate everything he thought? checkmate, snaters" nonsense, which then quickly devolves into "every even mildly negative thought she had about snape was driven by her pure evil"...

but the thing is... even without any of the rest of it - the fact that she's a member of the wizarding world's persecuted underclass and there's a war on, for example - she's allowed to not be constantly thinking about other people's problems. and she's allowed to be annoyed and selfish and uncharitable and rude. and she's allowed to not be constantly filtering her words and actions through every single possible societal nuance in order to make sure she only responds in the most perfect way ever... not least because that's fundamentally impossible.

i like the fact that she never quite gets how snape's poverty changes his engagement with the world - especially in the most recent chapter, when she's thirteen and she thinks she's having a nice time hanging out with her pal and she thinks he's saying what he means when he says he doesn't want anything from the ice cream man, rather than pretending that he doesn't because he hasn't got any money and he finds the idea of admitting that to her to be too humiliating to bear - because it's a situation where neither of them are in the wrong, which i just find much more interesting than the fandom's determination to divide characters who are in conflict into the winner and the loser, or the good person and the bad one, or the person who's right and the person who's wrong.

snape's feelings about his poverty are entirely understandable, and lily clearly hasn't thought as much about it as might be admirable... but it's also his own fault that he doesn't share these feelings with lily, and just expects her to read his mind and modify her behaviour without him offering her any explanation as to why he wants her to do this or offering her any chance to refuse or to ask him to compromise on these desires.

and this lack of honest communication leads to their bigger, much more clear-cut resentments - over james, over mulciber and avery, over dark magic, and - of course - over voldemort. lily's obviously completely correct to say that voldemort is a terrorist and she won't respect anyone who's obsessed with him... the moral argument is black-and-white, lily's the only person who's right.

but the issue is that snape isn't actually arguing from an opposing position. he's not arguing that voldemort isn't a terrorist - he's arguing that voldemort is a terrorist who's also the only person he's ever met who's offering a tangible way for him to get out of poverty. and this is true - both in the fic and, in my view, in the canon text. the material argument is much, much more complicated than the moral one.

lily can't solve these problems - she's just one person, and she doesn't have to risk her own safety to try and deradicalise someone seeking to join an organisation which hates muggleborns - and i don't expect her to have ever been able to do so.

but i also like the fact that - just as snape's major failing in canon is indifference [he can tolerate what voldemort does until it affects him] - the good guys' major failing is indifference too.

the ministry and the order are principled people taking a righteous moral stand against terror... and they also have no idea how the system they're fighting for oppresses all but the elite of wizarding society... whereas voldemort understands this intimately, and he uses it to swell his ranks with disaffected recruits who are looking for someone to blame for their conditions...

[hence why he's the person - even as the text tries to present him as someone whose aims are pureblood oligarchy - who canonically commands the support (or, at the very least, the toleration) of the working classes and the non-human peoples oppressed by the wizarding state...]

but these recruits are nonetheless entirely aware what they're signing up for... they're not joining a legitimate political party, or a union, or an activist group seeking to bring about change through non-violent means... they're joining a terrorist organisation...

but their experience at the hands of the state makes them easy to convince that they've got no other choice...

i like this sort of vicious cycle approach to both the first and the second war because it's so much more interesting than canon's "this is a straightforward battle between good and evil" vibe.

[neostellarjpg]

Erifef opinions and maybe a doodle? People don't tend to think much about the idea of Feferi having any sort of fault in the whole Eridan thing and while it's, like, nuanced, I am curious abt ur opinions

erifef is THE most palpably 13 year old relationship in homestuck next to maybe like davejade.

i've been a feferi a good few times as a kid, which means i understand fef's pain in having to deal with someone who is emotionally dependent on you. having to wrangle the darker side of them that they are way too open about with you, having to sit there and listen to them say some self-depricating or straight up evil shit and responding as kindly as possible, treading on eggshells to mother them and comfort them so they don't break down or blow up. "keep being my friend or im gonna go crazy and start fuckin killing everyone!!!!!!" classic teen manipulation, but when you're IN it, you have no reason not to believe them. it's not like eridan doesn't have access to firearms and shit

at the same time though, feferi's more presumptuous/insensitive side is really obvious (again, ive been there). she is exhausted by their years-long relationship, straight up tells eridan this (D:), and drops him pretty much the moment she deems it "safe" to.

they both trap each other into this position. eridan forces feferi into the role of emotional caretaker, and because of that, feferi starts to think of herself as above him, probably without even realizing. she's so eager to wash her hands of him, to do something for herself for once, that eridan's feelings don't even register as a factor to her. their relationship was already fucked way before this point.

i like that their breakup (and fef getting with sollux) is the catalyst for like half of murderstuck. it's so melodramatic and true to teenagerhood. the trolls really are if kids were conditioned to murder each other

[midnightshindig]

I need to see Donald being a wingman for Cecil 🙏 Like maybe the reader is also a high-ranking member of the GDA and Donald knows they both have trouble opening up? Ty!

omg finally getting to my requests omg!! happy days, everyone

I love this request, I LOVE Donald as a character I'm so happy to write for him ^^

hcs under the cut

You were one of the GDA's lawyer, inspecting the place to make sure-- legally-- everything was as airtight as possible. Suing a superhero is much more difficult than suing the government, after all. And the people want an outlet.

Your job was to make the GDA as un-suable as fucking possible.

And Cecil admired you for it

You provided a valuable service, you were always courteous to him and his subordinates, and you looked pretty good in a suit

What wasn't to love?

So you saw him quite a bit, it was an easy enough job with your team doing most of the difficult paperwork for you

It wasn't unusual to see you chatting up Cecil or Donald or really any higher up about the ins and outs of the process-- PURELY for research, obviously, and not because you're just cool and friendly

You would talk to Cecil quite a bit, inquiring into the functions of his job and just generally picking his brain about anything and everything

It was nice to have someone be so interested in him, Cecil couldn't help but grow fond for you

Instead of his initial annoyance, he quickly become excited when you entered his wing of the Pentagon.

"Heyyy big man! What're your thoughts on that attack this morning? Crazy stuff, right?"

He subconsciously moved to straighten his tie and fix the cuffs of his suit jacket, looking back at you with a wobbly, unpracticed smile

"Yes, Y/n. It was interesting all right- I have Donald and the boys at the lab working on samples from the monsters dna right now."

A beat

"Care to see?"

And so Cecil slowly grew to trust you more, not enough to show you the White Rooms by any means, but that wasn't personal, that was national security.

This had gone on too long, it was messing Cecil up

he liked you, he was grown up and mature enough to accept that fact

but there was no way you-- some hot shot lawyer with an intelligent mind and knack for conversation-- would find him worth your time

Position as head of the GDA be damned, he didn't think he could pull you.

He's too much of a rock to say anything, but Donalds entire job is to observe Cecil and his needs, to keep the GDA running smooth

"You know... I hope this isnt' out of line, Sir. But Y/n has taken quite a liking to you."

Cecils eye twitches with stress "What...?"

Donalds eyes widen a little, trying to save the situation "I just mean that it is unusual for Y/n to spend so much time here. With you. Data shows elevated heart rate and dilated pupils when they see you. It would make sense, is all."

Cecil let out a frustrated sigh, leaning against a desk "And what do you propose I do about it, Donald? Fire them?"

"No!" Donald was frantic, fixing his glasses and recomposing himself "The opposite, actually. I think it would be beneficial for both parties as well as the greater good of the GDA if you asked Y/n out to coffee."

Cecil was skeptical, like he always is, like his job requires.

But Donald knew it would make the both of you happier

Maybe you just needed a little push?

The next few days are torture for everyone working at the GDA

everyone can see you enjoying Cecil's company, and even casually hitting on him, and Cecil losing his edge over it

He's frazzled by you, shaken a little by Donald's suggestion he ask you out

But he steels himself and presses on, content to ignore his silly crush

Donald ain't having none of that shit.

So he finally confronts Cecil

"Cecil, sir, with all due respect, you need to make a move."

"What."

"This whole pining thing is disrupting everybody else's work, nobody can focus with the will-they won't-they sitcom happening."

"Donald please, Y/n is a professiona-"

"They really aren't. Ask them out. I'm serious." and Donald leaves, leaving Cecil disincensed and frazzled

So, two days later and you're back for a visit

but things are different?

the GDA analysts and office workers are all quiet around you, not in a gossipy way, just.... quiet?

You go to find Cecil, wanting to pick his brain about something you saw on the news

When you get there, Cecil looks nervous, not anxious per se, just.... hesistent?

"Hey Cecil! What's going on today? Everyone's super quiet... did I miss something?"

"No, y/n... uhm-" he pulls at his tie a little "Everything is fine, have a seat? I have something I want to talk to you about."

You raise an eyebrow at his formality, taking a seat in the leather chair across from his desk

"Y/n...." He sucked in a deep breath, clearly nervous

"What? Is there some huge lawyer scandal I'm not aware of?" You try to lighten the mood, cracking a smile

Cecil sighs, combing his hand through his hair "Y/n, would you...." he looks past your head to see Donald giving him a thumbs up through the door window

jesus christ

Ugh- fuck it-

"Y/n, can I take you out?"

silence.

"Like...." you start cautiously, a concerned look on your face "Like on a date? Or like...." You drag your finger across your throat, poking your tongue out to mimick death

Cecil's eyes widen as he stands up, placing his hands on the desk "Like a date! Not- ugh.... I should've phrased that better..." he seems so defeated, deflating back into his chair.

Much to his surprise, you perk up and grin "Sure!"

"What? Really?"

"Yeah! I've been waiting for like weeks for you to ask me out. What do you say to coffee?"

He blinks in surprise, straightening his tie and sitting up straighter "I would like that."

BONUS:

As you leave, you notice Donald standing casually outside the door to Cecil's office, presumably needing to tell him something important

after you leave, Cecil comes out himself, giving Donald a side eye

"Donald."

"Sir."

"....Thank you."

Donald gives a small smile and adjusts his glasses "You're welcome, sir."

[starlostlix]

BSD 121.5 SPOILERS BELOW!!

So I want to talk about the new chapter because what the actual fuck.

So first of all.... THIS

Atsushi doing this callback with that gaze is insane, and akutagawa's reaction shows he's losing the idgaf war. They're finally realising how much they mean to one another and it's so important, but MORE IMPORTANTLY...

AKUTAGAWA'S EYES ARE FULL OF LIGHT

HIS. EYES. ARE. ALIGHT.

It's not just a bit of light. ITS FULLY LIGHT!!!

This is so important for Akutagawa ong. I don't want to take up too much time with this though because there's a LOT to talk about.

First, the design of ameno-gozen's realm, the fourth dimension. I LOVE IT! It's so mysterious and looks kind of glitchy which is perfect for this vibe. Dazai explains that most people can't see anything here so Atsushi's limited visibility with this art style works well.

So basically this dimension is where the past present and future intersect 'orthogonally' (I had to search this up, it means 'at right angles') and all of time is 'folded upon itself'. Atsushi now, as the only one who can see anything in this dimension, is now able to technically access parts of the past and future at once (my theory is that Byakko has some relation to the fourth dimension, perhaps being created within or being something similar to Gozen). Also note that in the 3rd image 'Dazai' is able to hear Atsushi's thoughts (strengthening the idea id seen of this being Byakko speaking through a visual hallucination of Dazai, especially when this dazai insinuates that it is not him that knows these things but Atsushi himself). Interesting what 'dazai' says about the speed of sound in this dimension basically means it's a lot slower here. Also apparently the mission is to find the 'core' of the divine being here and (i assume) destroy it? No clue how that SSKK fight from the end of the anime is supposed to play out like that but I will see how this goes.

So interestingly everyone else who has been struck by the Amenogozen sword has become stuck in this dimension unaware of what/where they are, and don't have the awareness that Atsushi has (main character moment). Essentially the infinite past and future versions of themselves are 'folding' onto one another (I don't quite know what this specifically means, but I imagine it like Jayce, Ekko and Heimerdinger in the hexcore room in Arcane s2 ep3). But now, since Atsushi is conscious, Atsushi has access to the past and future in this space (leading to the possibility of a lore dump to end all lore dumps next chapter, hopefully about Fyodor's backstory/plan) and he has to choose which way to go to find the information he needs. 'Dazai' tells him to 'feel strongly' as 'that's what you do when you want to experience the past' - and I feel that is such an interesting way of thinking about it in this series. Atsushi himself has suffered from PTSD (as have many characters) and often strong feelings can link to the traumas they possess, but it's not just negative feelings. A lot of characters also have positive memories from strong feelings, including their strong feelings about protecting others as Yokohama's defenders of sorts, and forming bonds with others in that process created the ADA as we know it. I don't really know how else to talk about it but I think it's a really interesting thematic line. Asagiri has some really cool writing.

Honestly this chapter is so cool and I can't wait to see where the series goes with this! My personal theory for next chapter is Atsushi finding the way to the past and we get essentially a lore dump. I think it will be Fyodor's backstory wherein Atsushi's view is spliced with comatose Sigma going through the information he got from his ability and stumbling upon the same information/memories as Atsushi is (also perhaps to cement the parallels between the two like Dazai talked about!).

[animatorweirdo]

Imagine Being the Vala of Nightmares

You are the Vala of Nightmares, one of the most mysterious and feared Valars to exist in Arda.

(Author's note: Not gonna lie, I was kinda inspired by Ronova's eye form and Mizuki's story quest. I also thought it to be cool being a Vala who is not evil but no-nonsense either. )

Warnings: Some people fearing you, you being the one who taught Melkor what fear means, you not having a physical form, and some mention of you being rather ruthless.

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

- As the Vala of nightmares, you serve as the opposite of Irmo’s dreams. While his dreams bring hope, rest, and healing— allowing dreamers rest from the troubles of the outside world— your nightmares serve as cold reminders. They offer visions of possible future outcomes and encourage action for the greater good, keeping dreamers grounded in reality and preventing them from falling into false dreams and delusions.

- Not many of your kin understood the duty you had taken. To them, nightmares were unpleasant even if they sometimes served as warnings — warnings even they often chose to ignore. In their minds, nightmares were a burden, something negative, and at times, even unnecessary.

-  Irmo understood you and your duty, just like you understood his. Even if nightmares were considered dreadful and cold, they were necessary for dreamers as visualized warnings and indicators that something in their life was negatively affecting them. Just like how Irmo's dreams provided hope and rest, a gentle reminder that not everything in the world was dark and terrible. Thus, there was no animosity between you and Irmo, even if you were each other’s opposites. 

- As the Vala of Nightmares, you do not exist in Arda the same way as the rest of your kin. You do not possess a physical form as you exist in the realm of dreams, a realm where dreams and nightmares coexist. You watch over its balance and ensure they do not conflict and come to exist in the material world. It was a duty you accepted from Eru. 

- Before the creation of Arda, you lived in the Timeless Halls with Irmo and the rest of your kin. He was a bright spirit compared to his siblings, full of gentleness and hope— while you were what others considered blunt and sometimes gloomy with your silence. You two were clear opposites, but despite your differences, you considered each other dear friends. 

- When it was time to enter Arda, Eru foresaw your roles in managing dreams and nightmares. Thus, to keep the line between reality and dreams balanced, one had to exist in the realm of dreams. 

- As Irmo had grown to love Este and desired to be with her and his siblings, you decided to take your position in the dream realm. Irmo was saddened as he had hoped to have one of his dearest friends live in the same world as him, but you assured him that you will exist in Arda, and as a Vala of dreams, he will be able to enter the dream realm and come to see you. He and Este were meant to rule a realm of healing together; thus, he should not be separated from her and his siblings. 

- You had no partner and no creations you wanted to bring into Arda. You also had many Maiars who wanted to serve you and exist in the dream realm with you, so you would not be alone. So, with all those considered, it only made more sense for you to take the position. 

- And thus you became the prime sovereign of the dream realm, watching over the creation of nightmares and watching over the world. 

- You had no need for a physical body, but whenever you needed to appear personally, you took the form of a great eye as you see everything that occurs in your realm and the material world, witnessing its events and the lives of its people. 

- Your Maiars took forms of crows or creatures of the night, aiding you with creations of nightmares and eating away any nightmares that were not naturally created. 

- While existing as the ruler of the dream realm, you also served as a watcher as you dutifully observed everything that occurred in Arda. 

- You were the one who informed Manwe of the elves’ awakening and the necessity to take action for their protection when Melkor hunted them for his twisted purposes. Urging Manwe by showing visions of what was happening. 

- And you were the one who urged them to do something about Melkor for the sake of the children of illuvatar and peace of the world, witnessing his chaining and allowing all life on Arda flourish with no danger to them. 

- Many tales of you spread among the Eldar, painting you as an enigma. Unlike the rest of your Valar kin, you did not walk Arda in a tangible form, and the very notion of a Vala ruling over nightmares unsettled them. They whispered of you in hushed tones, wary of the dreams they believed you had sent, uncertain whether they carried warnings or doom.

- Some Elves feared and even despised you, unsettled by the powers of your domain. But there were those wise enough to seek the hidden meanings within their nightmares, recognizing them as messages rather than mere torment.

- In doing so, you also act as a guide of sorts, trying to steer the dreamers away from paths that could lead to ruin or entrap them in delusions and false dreams.

- But, of course, not all of Ilúvatar’s children were wise enough to heed your warnings, and many still chose to walk the darker paths.

- Some of Ilúvatar's children claimed to have glimpsed your form in dreams and, inspired by the vision, crafted pendants bearing the symbol of your eye. These pendants were believed to offer protection against evil or sense its presence. It was said that if the pendant ever broke, it meant that its bearer had been shielded from harm or had narrowly avoided a great darkness.

- Melkor fears you the most as you were nearly equal to him and Manwe in power.

- You were the one who taught him fear when he once imprisoned one of your Maiars and refused to release them when you asked him to, forcing you to take action and release them yourself. 

- It was the day you entered Arda in a physical form for the first time and taught him the true definition of fear. 

- Ever since that day, he never tried to imprison one of your Maiars again. 

-  You did not exist in Arda as a physical being, so Melkor could not touch you or affect you in any way. And due to his physical form that occasionally needed rest, you had power over him in his dreams. And for his evil deeds, you often filled his dreams with nightmares as you despised him and his actions. 

- Unlike Irmo and most of your kin, you were ruthless and unforgiving when angered. You saw no reason to allow him easy rest, especially when he willingly harms innocent beings who have done him no wrong. 

- Melkor believes he is going against his creator's grand design for him and all in Arda. But you knew many secrets regarding your creator and that there was no such thing. 

-The only place Melkor would find rest is in his domain. But even so, you always made sure that no matter where he goes, you will always find him. The same goes with his servants. 

- Due to your blunt and sometimes ungentle ways, you were a feared figure. You even send nightmares to the dreams of your kin, forcing them to face reality and the need for action. You reminded them that as the ruling powers of Arda, it was your responsibility to look after its habitats and not cower in the safety of your domains when something goes wrong. 

- You were given many names. Your original name became a mystery, and even you went by names the children of Illuvatar gave you. The elves who came to Aman called you Tirnómë. The elves of the Middle Earth referred to you as Tirweth. But you were commonly known as the Watcher or the Ruler of Nightmares due to your role in overlooking the balance between realities and watching over Arda and its people, offering guidance in nightmares whenever a catastrophic event is nearing.

- You were Vala surrounded by mystery as some considered you good while some considered you evil for your nightmares. Your presence and role in Arda have never been clear, but you will always be there when necessary. 

[acti-veg]

Hi! So uh, first of all I just wanted to say thank you for everything you do :) your book and your blog were some of the main things that even made me go vegan in the first place and I still learn a lot from your articles and posts!! You’re an amazing activist! Seeing people like you restores my faith in humanity tbh so thank you again so so much 💗

Anyway, I’m writing this ask because I’ve been struggling a lot emotionally as a vegan and I feel like I need advice from someone more experienced. I know you must spend a lot of time interacting with carnists when advocating for veganism. You’ve been doing this for years and still you’re going strong, so I just wonder how you manage to stay positive and not get too hurt in the process…

My problem is that whenever I see animal products or hear people spreading carnist views I react overly strongly. Often, I almost feel physical pain and can’t bring myself to interact with those people, it just hurts so much. Animal cruelty is everywhere and it feels like I can’t do anything about it. It’s heartbreaking, horrifying, depressing, and the worst part is how normalised it is.

It feels like there’s no escape. Somehow I can’t go outside without walking past a meat market, I can’t cook for myself without seeing a chicken corpse in the fridge, I can’t even play a video game without seeing images of animal products, etc... All these things are supposed to be normal, but they’re just so distressing to me. What makes me feel especially horrible is seeing/hearing anti-vegans spreading misinformation and such. I feel like if I see another post saying that "leather is good and sustainable actually" I’m going to explode. Is it just me or are other people that affected as well?

This would probably be easier to deal with if I had an ethical vegan friend or two who’d understand how I feel, but I don’t have any. I live with four carnists and even my partner apparently hates vegans (tried to tell them about my feelings and they got personally offended). And I know there’s a big community of vegan people out there, but there’s not nearly enough of us and I still feel so isolated and alone in my experiences.

I’m so sorry for venting. What I meant to ask is, do you ever feel like that? Is there anything that can help me not feel depressed whenever I see animal products? And thank you so much again for doing what you do. You are truly a wonderful person and I hope life treats you well <3

Thank you for the kind words, I’m so glad my blog had an impact on you!

I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been having such a bad time of it, I wish I could say that this isn’t common but I’ve had dozens of asks like this one. I firmly believe that going vegan is an extremely positive decision, but there are negatives that come from knowing what we know, and trying to exist in a society that is built on the backs of exploited animals. We have all felt like this, myself included.

Honestly, it sounds like you may consuming a bit too much vegan content, or possibly spending too much time engaging wifh and thinking about veganism specifically. Do you have any hobbies that help relax and distract you? Reading, gaming, exercise? I find all of these really helpful for clearing my head, especially exercise. There is such a thing as overexposure for vegans, and I’ve definitely been there myself.

What helps me most is trying to focus on the positive side of being vegan. Follow more positive content like sanctuaries, rescue centres, recipe creators, plant-based fitness blogs - whatever makes you happy. Avoid engaging with upsetting content, that includes graphic footage of any kind, anti-vegan content, debates and arguments. Create a little bubble for yourself that you can escape in, even if that means having seperate accounts for when you’re feeling this way and just want some escapism.

Try and visit an animal sanctuary, even if you have to make this a long term goal if there isn’t one that is accessible to you. I can’t describe how helpful this is an experience, to remember who this is all about and the fact that not all animals are suffering and unhappy. Seeing wild animals in their natural habitat can achieve the same thing.

For me, the best balm to this sort of feeling is activism. It is a big part of why I do this, it isn’t all altruistic. Turning some people of that negative towards something positive can help you feel much less helpless. See if there are any animal rights groups in your area (you’d also make vegan friends) but if not, try doing some of your own work, even if that is just online, signing/making petitions, blogging, letter writing - whatever you can do.

I’d also recommend this talk from Melanie Joy about activist burnout, which something close to what you’re experiencing, and she has some really helpful advice. That pain and disconnect from others will always be there, but I hope you manage to find some tools for coping with it that work for you, that is really all any of us can do. Take care of yourself, anon!

[lemotmo]

I choked on my water 😂😂😂

Q. Sarcasm goes both ways, dumbass. So that line can be read as sarcastic either way. It can be read as sarcastic towards the people who ship them or it can be read as sarcastic towards the people who don't. It depends on your opinion of the topic. So we don't know the author's sarcastic intentions because we don't know what their opinion on Buddie is. Hope that helps. I know intelligence is hard.

A. Why do you all act like you've never human'd before? Sarcasm does go both ways but not in the same line, dumbass. The wording of the line would be different depending on which viewpoint the writer wanted the reader to take as truth. So for instance the line we are talking about was saying, very clearly, that believing their just bestie bros at this point is kind of ridiculous. Now if the writer was making a statement about how ridiculous the idea of anything romantic between them is, they would have written something entirely different. Something more like:

"News of Eddie's potential move came as a surprise to his bestie Buck, weird for a supposed pair of soulmates who can read each other's every thought".

See the difference? That line is clearly mocking the idea of them as romantic partners. You can't read every piece of sarcasm as sarcastic towards both ideas. That's not a thing. Just like believing every scene we see on television is open to the viewer's interpretation to determine what it actually means is not a thing. Intention exists. And it exists obviously within the text of most things. Some things are open to the readers, or the viewers, interpretation, but not most things. Most things have an intended purpose and a particular conclusion the audience is supposed to come to. Hope that helps, jackass. I know intelligence is hard. Seriously there is no way you all are actually this stupid. And if you have to pretend to be this stupid in order for your character/ship to still sound possible then that should tell you something. Nevermind, convincing yourselves that none of this is weird or crazy behavior already tells me everything I need to know about your intelligence.

Thank you Nonny. 🤗

What is it with the rudeness of these people? There is a better, more polite way to ask someone a question or to make a point if you don't agree with someone else's take.

Anyway, Ali already said all that needed to be said in her answer.

It's like these people are willfully ignoring every single thing that is buddie-positive because they are convinced that we are all having some sort of mass-delusion that Buddie is going canon in 8b. At the same time they are convinced that BT are soulmates, which... no. 🤷‍♀️

I'm so tired of dealing with these people. I hope they all just go away during 8b as soon as they see that Buddie is really happening. 🤞🤞🤞

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[lost-in-thoughts03]

TiO // Seong Gi-hun

Summary: You hired as Seong Gi-hun's assistant secretary because his primary secretary has a lot of work to do. But is there anything else going on here besides him being your boss?

" I just want to watch you when you take it off."

Warning: 18+, MDNI, au, age gap, younger and older man, jealousy, possessive Gi-hun, boss! Gi-hun, teasing, mutual pining, freaky, forbidden attraction, denial, kissing, unprotected sex, oral (both), grammatical errors

You need a job to cover your tuition fees every semester. Fortunately, an employer accepts your application, and the secretary contacts you for an interview. You ace the interview, leaving the secretary impressed with your responses.

Now, you've been working there for almost three months. You applied for the assistant secretary position because the main secretary has additional responsibilities, and the employer is too busy to handle everything alone—hence the need for extra help.

Your employer is Seong Gi-hun, a billionaire businessman. He’s a tall man with a well-built physique, sharp facial features, and a commanding presence.

His dark brown eyes always seem deep in thought, and his jet-black hair is neatly styled, adding to his refined yet intimidating aura.

Despite his undeniable good looks, there’s a coldness to him—his expressions rarely change, and you’ve never once seen him smile or laugh in his presence.

Unlike other employers who might be more expressive, Gi-hun maintains a stoic demeanor. He is strict and expects tasks to be completed within the deadlines he sets—no extensions, no excuses. If you fail to meet his expectations, there’s only one consequence: a deduction from your salary.

Today is Monday—the day you dread the most. Why? Because it means drowning in stacks of paperwork that need to be compiled and arranged by classification.

The sheer volume is enough to make your head spin. On top of that, your employer, Seong Gi-hun, seems to require your presence at all times, making it nearly impossible to focus.

His strict nature only adds to the pressure, leaving you with no choice but to push through the exhausting start of the week.

Your phone vibrates on your desk, interrupting your already hectic Monday. With a sigh, you glance at the screen—your officemate’s name flashes across it. You answer, already expecting the worst.

" Y/n, the boss wants to see you. Now." They inform you before hanging up, leaving no room for questions.

Straightening your posture, you take a deep breath and make your way to Seong Gi-hun’s office. As you carefully push open the heavy wooden door, the air inside feels heavier, almost suffocating.

He’s there, sitting on his sleek black swivel chair, his fingers rhythmically thumping against the polished wooden surface of his desk. The sound is soft yet unnervingly firm, matching the sharp intensity of his gaze as he locks eyes with you.

For a moment, your breath hitches. His stare is unreadable—piercing, calculating. It holds you in place, demanding your full attention without a single word.

You gather your composure and clear your throat. " Sir, is there something you need?" You ask, keeping your tone as professional as possible.

Silence lingers before he finally speaks, his voice cold and authoritative.

" Close the door."

Just three words, yet they carry enough weight to send a shiver down your spine.

You hesitate for a split second before quietly shutting the door behind you. The faint click of the lock falling into place echoes in the silent room, heightening the tension that already lingers in the air.

Seong Gi-hun leans back in his chair, his fingers now still against the desk. His dark eyes never leave yours, making it impossible to look away.

" Come here." He commands, his voice low but firm.

You swallow hard, forcing your feet to move as you step closer to his desk. Every step feels heavier under his intense gaze. When you finally stop in front of him, he tilts his head slightly, studying you with an unreadable expression.

" You've been working here for three months." He states, his voice calm yet laced with authority.

" Tell me, do you think you’ve done your job well?"

The question catches you off guard. You weren’t expecting a performance evaluation—at least, not in such a direct and unsettling manner.

You straighten your posture, meeting his gaze despite the pressure weighing down on you. " I do my best to fulfill my responsibilities, sir." You answer, keeping your tone professional.

Gi-hun leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. His presence alone is enough to make the air in the room feel thinner.

" Your best." he repeats slowly, as if testing the words on his tongue. Then, after a pause, he exhales sharply and slides a thick folder toward you. " Then prove it. Organize this by noon. No mistakes."

Your fingers brush against the folder hesitantly before picking it up. The sheer weight of it already tells you that finishing by noon will be nearly impossible—but refusing isn’t an option.

" Understood, sir." You reply, suppressing the sigh threatening to escape your lips.

Gi-hun doesn’t respond. He simply dismisses you with a slight wave of his hand, already shifting his attention back to his laptop as if you’re no longer in the room.

Taking that as your cue to leave, you turn on your heel and make your way out, feeling the weight of both the folder and his expectations pressing down on you.

Just as you turn to leave, his voice cuts through the silence, stopping you in your tracks.

" One more thing."

You pause, glancing back at him. He’s no longer focused on his laptop but instead watching you with that same unreadable gaze.

" You’ll be accompanying me to an important event tonight." He states, leaving no room for negotiation. " I need someone to take note of everything the other businessmen discuss. I don’t trust anyone else to do it properly."

Your lips part slightly in surprise, but you quickly catch yourself. Of course, refusing isn’t an option.

" Understood, sir." You reply, maintaining your professional tone.

Gi-hun leans back in his chair, his fingers lightly tapping against the armrest. " Good. And one more thing—before the event, you’re coming with me to pick out something appropriate to wear."

Your brows lift slightly, but you quickly nod. " Noted, sir."

" Be ready by six." He instructs before finally returning his focus to his laptop, effectively dismissing you.

With a small nod, you clutch the folder tighter in your arms and step out of his office. As the door clicks shut behind you, you let out a slow breath, already dreading what the rest of the day has in store.

…

At exactly 5:40 p.m., the office is eerily silent. All the employees have left for the day, leaving only you and your employer’s secretary in the vast, dimly lit building.

The ticking of the wall clock feels louder, each second amplifying the nervous tension coiling in your chest.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you sit at your desk, trying to steady your breathing. The thought of being alone with Seong Gi-hun for the rest of the evening unsettles you.

He’s always been intimidating, his presence commanding every room he steps into. But there’s something about the way his sharp, mysterious gaze lingers on you that makes it even harder to breathe.

" Are you ready?" The secretary’s voice jolts you from your thoughts. You quickly nod, clutching your bag tightly as you stand.

" Yes." You reply, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays your nerves.

The secretary gives you a knowing look but says nothing, simply gesturing toward the elevator. " He’s waiting downstairs."

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and step forward, knowing there’s no turning back now.

As you step into the elevator, the metallic doors glide shut, sealing you inside with your thoughts. The hum of the descending lift does little to calm your racing heartbeat. You swallow hard, gripping the strap of your bag as if it could anchor you somehow.

When the doors finally slide open, the sight of Seong Gi-hun waiting near the entrance makes your breath hitch.

Dressed in a sleek black suit, he looks effortlessly refined, his presence commanding even in the dim evening light.

His sharp eyes flick toward you the moment you step out, scanning you from head to toe with an unreadable expression.

" You’re late." He states coolly, checking his watch.

Your throat goes dry. " I—I still made it before six, sir." You manage to say, trying to maintain your professionalism despite the nervous energy coiling in your stomach.

Gi-hun doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he tilts his head slightly, as if assessing you. The air between you feels heavy, charged with something you can’t quite name. Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and strides toward the exit.

" Let’s go." He commands.

You quickly fall into step beside him, struggling to match his long, purposeful strides. The air outside is crisp, but it does little to cool the warmth rising in your cheeks.

The car waiting at the curb is sleek and expensive, just as you expected. The driver steps forward to open the door, but Gi-hun raises a hand, stopping him.

" I’ll drive." He says simply, before turning his gaze to you. " Get in."

You hesitate only for a moment before obeying, sliding into the passenger seat. The door shuts beside you with a quiet click, trapping you in the enclosed space with him.

As Gi-hun starts the engine, his sharp gaze flicks toward you once more. " We’ll buy what I need first. After that, we go straight to the event. Understood?"

" Yes, sir." You reply, though your voice is quieter than usual.

Without another word, he shifts the car into drive, and the two of you speed off into the city night.

…

The low hum of the car engine filled the quiet space between you and Gi-hun as he drove down the highway.

The city lights blurred outside the window, casting fleeting shadows across your face. You kept your gaze locked on the passing scenery, your body still stiff despite the comfortable leather seat beneath you.

Gi-hun smirked, eyes flickering toward you for just a second before returning to the road. He could tell—no matter how much time you spent around him, you still held that tension, that unease.

He liked it. He liked how easily he could dominate you without a single word, how your body language always hinted at submission when he spoke.

His fingers flexed against the steering wheel as he thought about it. He wasn’t cruel—no, not in the way others might be—but there was something about the way you responded to him that stirred something deep inside. Something possessive.

Unintentionally, his gaze dropped to your lap.

The skirt you wore had ridden up just slightly, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs. He swallowed hard, his grip on the wheel tightening as a wave of heat surged through him.

Damn it.

He forced his eyes back onto the road, shifting uncomfortably in his seat when he felt the familiar ache between his legs.

What the hell was wrong with him? He wasn’t some creep who couldn’t control himself. He had met plenty of women in his life, but none had ever affected him like this.

Maybe it was because of the first time he saw you. The way you walked into his office on your first day—confident yet reserved, sharp yet soft. He had been hypnotized then, struck by a beauty he hadn’t expected.

And now, despite the hardened mask he wore, despite the walls he had built after everything that had happened in his past, you still managed to unravel him without even trying.

Gi-hun let out a low curse under his breath, forcing his focus back onto the road.

This was dangerous.

And yet, for some reason, he didn’t want to stop.

...

The mall was alive with people, the buzz of conversations blending with the faint sound of music playing from the overhead speakers. You walked ahead, trying to focus on the task at hand—finding the store Gi-hun had mentioned—but your thoughts were a mess.

Because he was behind you.

His presence was too overwhelming, too sharp. It made your skin prickle with unease, though you weren’t sure if it was fear or something else entirely.

You hadn’t even asked for details about this "freaking store" he was looking for, and now you were aimlessly leading the way, pretending like you knew where you were going.

Gi-hun, however, had other things occupying his mind.

His sharp gaze scanned the crowd, immediately locking onto every wandering pair of eyes that dared to linger on you for too long.

Some men weren’t even subtle about it, their glances filled with something that made his blood boil.

His jaw clenched as a wave of jealousy surged through him. He hated it—hated that they were looking at what was his.

Wait.

His?

Gi-hun swallowed the thought down, but his body acted before his mind could catch up.

He stepped closer.

You jolted when you felt the firm press of his chest against your back, your breath hitching. Before you could react, his hand slid onto your waist with ease, fingers firm but not harsh as he redirected you.

" You’re going the wrong way." He murmured, his voice deep and close to your ear.

Your body stiffened at the contact, but you didn’t pull away. Maybe because you couldn’t. Maybe because you didn’t want to.

The two of you kept walking, his hand lingering just a second too long before it fell away. The silence between you stretched, thick and unspoken, neither of you making a move to fill it.

There wasn’t anything to say—no topic that could break whatever tension was wrapping around you both.

And yet, the weight of his touch still burned against your skin.

The moment you both stepped into the store, the salesladies perked up, their warm smiles ready to greet a potential high-profile customer.

" Welcome, sir—"

Gi-hun cut through their greetings with a tight, cold smile—more of an acknowledgment than anything warm. His disinterest was palpable, and the way their smiles faded showed they got the message.

Without another word, he turned to one of the store guards, speaking to him in a low voice. The guard nodded quickly before disappearing into the manager’s office.

You stood there awkwardly, still unsure why he had brought you along. The whole situation felt foreign to you—this wasn’t your world. The expensive clothes, the silent authority Gi-hun held, the way everyone seemed to respond to him with a mix of respect and unease.

Minutes later, the manager appeared.

A bright smile stretched across his face, full of energy and enthusiasm, completely unfazed by Gi-hun’s cold demeanor.

" Gi-hun! You really should visit more often." The manager greeted, shaking his head playfully when his friend remained stoic.

You observed quietly, finding it odd how comfortable this man was despite Gi-hun’s icy exterior. They must be friends, you thought. That, or the manager was simply used to handling difficult personalities.

Then, unexpectedly, the manager’s gaze shifted to you. His expression softened into something more friendly as he smiled.

" And you must be…?" He asked, waiting for an introduction.

You felt heat creep up your neck, flustered by the sudden attention. " Uh, I—"

" You’re blushing." He teased, his grin widening. " I didn’t know Gi-hun could bring such shy company."

Your lips parted, unsure how to respond. You weren’t used to this kind of playful teasing, and your embarrassment only deepened.

Before the manager could continue, Gi-hun stepped in.

His hand casually reached for the man’s collar, giving it a light but firm tug—enough to make his friend straighten up and shut his mouth.

" That’s enough." Gi-hun muttered, his tone carrying a warning edge.

The manager raised his hands in surrender, laughing. " Alright, alright, I get it. You’re possessive."

Gi-hun’s gaze darkened slightly at the comment, but he didn’t bother to correct him. He simply let go and stepped back, signaling the conversation was over.

The manager chuckled, clearly amused by the reaction. He then turned to you and gave a small nod. " I’m Kang Dae-ho. Nice to meet you."

You managed a polite nod in return, still feeling the lingering warmth of your previous embarrassment.

With that, Dae-ho excused himself, leaving you alone with Gi-hun once again.

And for some reason, the air between you two felt heavier than before.

As soon as Dae-ho walked away, Gi-hun exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. His jaw was still tight, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned his focus back to what he came here for—buying clothes for the event.

" Come on." He said, his voice low and firm as he started walking deeper into the store.

You followed, still feeling slightly flustered from the previous interaction. Gi-hun’s reaction had been…unexpected. You weren’t used to anyone getting possessive over you, much less someone like him. But you didn’t dare bring it up.

The two of you stopped in front of a display of suits. Gi-hun ran his fingers over the fabric, inspecting the selection with sharp, discerning eyes. You stood by his side, unsure if you should offer an opinion or just wait silently.

A sales associate approached with a professional smile. " Sir, would you like some recommendations?"

Gi-hun didn’t answer immediately. He glanced at you before looking back at the racks.

" You pick." He said suddenly.

You blinked, startled. " Me?"

He nodded. " You’re the one who has to look at me all night."

Your lips parted slightly, heat creeping back into your face at his choice of words. He was teasing, but there was an undeniable weight behind it.

You cleared your throat, trying to focus. You hesitated for a moment before reaching out and carefully pulling a deep charcoal-gray suit from the rack. " This one…I think it would suit you."

Gi-hun took the hanger from your hands, his fingers briefly grazing yours. He glanced down at the suit, then back at you, his gaze unreadable.

" Hmm…" Was all he said.

The associate quickly stepped in, offering to prepare a fitting room. Gi-hun handed over the suit, then turned his attention back to you. " You coming?"

You hesitated, eyes widening slightly. " Inside?"

He smirked, amused by your reaction. " No. Just wait outside."

You let out a quiet breath, nodding as he walked toward the fitting room.

As you waited, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, even when he wasn’t there. And for some reason, the memory of his hand on your waist lingered far longer than it should have.

You stood outside the fitting room, arms crossed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. The store was quiet, the occasional rustle of fabric and muffled conversations filling the air.

You tried to focus on anything but the fact that Gi-hun was changing just a few feet away.

Why did he even ask you to pick? Did he actually care about your opinion, or was he just testing you?

Your thoughts were interrupted when the door clicked open.

Gi-hun stepped out, adjusting the sleeves of the charcoal-gray suit you had chosen. The fit was perfect, the material hugging his broad shoulders and lean frame effortlessly. He looked…

Damn.

You swallowed, trying to keep your expression neutral, but the way your eyes lingered didn’t go unnoticed.

Gi-hun smirked. " Not bad?"

You blinked, quickly snapping out of it. " Uh, yeah. It suits you."

His smirk deepened as he took a step closer. " You sure? You were staring pretty hard there."

Your face heated instantly. " I was just—just making sure it fits properly." You muttered, looking away.

Gi-hun chuckled, a deep, low sound that made your stomach twist in an unfamiliar way. He turned back to the mirror, rolling up the cuffs slightly as he inspected himself.

" You have good taste." He admitted, almost as if he was surprised by it.

You huffed, crossing your arms. " What, did you think I was going to pick something terrible?"

He shot you a sideways glance, amusement dancing in his eyes. " Would’ve been a good excuse to make you choose again. Keep you here longer."

You stiffened at his words, your breath catching slightly. Was he just messing with you, or was there something more behind that comment?

Before you could figure it out, the sales associate returned, asking if he wanted any adjustments. Gi-hun nodded, giving a final glance at the mirror before disappearing back into the fitting room.

And you, standing there with your heart pounding in your chest, realized something.

Being around Gi-hun was dangerous. Not because he was cold or distant—but because every little thing he did was starting to get under your skin.

The tension in the small fitting room was almost suffocating. Gi-hun leaned against the mirror, his arms crossed as he watched you with dark amusement.

He had already decided—he liked seeing you flustered, but not in a pathetic, predictable way like Dae-ho’s teasing.

No, he enjoyed pushing you in ways you weren’t ready for, making you react in ways you never expected from yourself.

" Take off my coat." He ordered, his voice low and firm.

You froze.

Your eyes widened slightly as you registered his words, your throat going dry. " W-What?"

Gi-hun tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. " You heard me."

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze on you. " You have functional hands. Why can’t you do it yourself?"

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and the moment they did, you knew you had messed up.

Gi-hun’s expression darkened. He didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a moment—just stared at you with an intensity that made you want to shrink under his gaze. The air grew thick, heavy with unspoken tension.

Regret flickered through you, and without another word, you stepped closer, hesitantly reaching for his coat.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you carefully undid the buttons, knowing full well how ridiculously expensive this suit was.

Sweat started forming at your hairline—not just from the pressure of handling such costly fabric, but from the sheer presence of the man in front of you.

Gi-hun, on the other hand, was completely still, watching you with lazy amusement. His lips twitched upward slightly as he felt your tiny fingers brush against the thin fabric of his clothes.

The warmth of your touch seeped through, and despite himself, he secretly hissed under his breath. His mind taunted him, urging him to push you further—to make you do more—but for once, he found himself unable to form the words.

Not yet.

But he wasn’t done with you.

" Unbutton my shirt."

You snapped your head up to look at him, eyes blown wide. " What?!"

Gi-hun smirked at your reaction. Your cheeks were already burning, and the way your fingers fidgeted at your sides told him everything—this was fun for him.

" You heard me." He repeated, raising a brow, silently daring you to protest again.

You wanted to say no. You really did. But when your gaze locked with his, the air between you thick and dangerous, you knew you had no choice.

With shaky hands, you reached for the first button, barely able to breathe. Gi-hun inhaled sharply when your fingertips brushed against his chest, his breath hitching as you slowly worked your way down.

His chest rose and fell steadily, but each touch made it harder for him to keep his composure.

This was supposed to be a simple tease.

So why the hell did he feel like he was the one losing control?

Your fingers hesitated at the second button, your breath coming out uneven as you felt the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, not when you were this close, not when you were practically undressing him.

Gi-hun, on the other hand, was watching you like a predator. He had started this as a game—a simple trick to see how flustered he could make you.

But now, as your soft fingers brushed against his chest with every undone button, he found himself struggling to keep his breathing steady.

" You're slow." He murmured, his voice lower than usual.

You swallowed hard, not daring to respond. If you spoke, you knew your voice would betray you.

As you reached the third button, his stomach muscles tensed beneath your touch, his breath subtly hitching. You didn’t miss it, and that only made your own heart race faster.

This was ridiculous.

Why was he making you do this? Why were you actually obeying him?

You mustered up whatever courage you had left, forcing yourself to look up at him—but the second your eyes met his, your stomach dropped.

Gi-hun was staring down at you, his gaze unreadable, but there was something darker lurking beneath the surface. Something dangerous. His smirk had faded slightly, replaced with something…else.

Something that made the air between you feel suffocating.

You quickly looked away, your fingers fumbling with the next button. But before you could continue, Gi-hun’s hand shot up, grabbing your wrist.

You gasped softly, startled by the sudden contact.

" That’s enough." He said, voice thick with something you couldn’t place.

You looked at him in confusion, but he didn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he let go of your wrist and took a slow step back, as if trying to put space between the two of you.

You couldn’t ignore the way his chest was rising and falling a little too fast, or the way his jaw clenched as he ran a hand through his hair.

What the hell just happened?

" You—You told me to—"

" Forget it." He cut you off, grabbing his coat from the chair and turning away. " Go pay for the suit. I’ll be out in a minute."

You stood there, still dazed, watching him retreat back into the fitting room. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your fingers still tingled from where they had touched his skin.

You didn’t know what just happened between you two.

But you did know one thing.

You weren’t the only one affected by it.

The moment you stepped out of the dressing room, Gi-hun let out a shaky breath, his back hitting the wall as he slid down slightly, legs weak from the tension he had barely escaped.

What the hell was that?

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the way he clenched his jaw. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was the one playing with you, testing your limits, enjoying the way you flushed under his gaze. He was the one in control.

So why the hell was he the one struggling now?

His breathing was heavy as he glanced down, cursing under his breath when he saw the obvious bulge in his trousers.

Damn it.

His fists tightened at his sides as he tried to force himself to calm down. He wasn’t some desperate fool who couldn’t control himself. He had been around plenty of women before—none of them ever did this to him. None of them ever got under his skin like you did.

And the worst part? You hadn’t even been trying.

Just the feeling of your soft fingers brushing against his chest, your tiny hands unbuttoning his shirt with hesitant, flustered movements—it had undone him completely.

He groaned lowly, pressing the heel of his palm against his hard length, trying to will it away. But the memory of your touch, your flushed expression, the way you had obediently followed his command despite your embarrassment—it all replayed in his mind, making it even worse.

" Shit." He muttered under his breath.

With a deep inhale, he straightened up, forcing his body to relax. He needed to get it together before he walked out there. The last thing he needed was for you to see him like this—to realize the effect you had on him.

Adjusting his coat slightly to conceal the evidence of his frustration, he took one final deep breath before stepping out of the dressing room. His expression was calm, composed—like nothing had happened.

Like he hadn’t just barely survived the temptation he had created.

The tension in the car was unbearable.

You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, eyes glued to the window, refusing to look at Gi-hun as he buckled his seatbelt.

The memory of what just happened in the dressing room was still fresh in your mind, your fingers still tingling from where they had touched his skin.

A sharp hiss broke the silence.

Your eyes flickered toward him for a split second, just in time to see him shift in his seat uncomfortably. His jaw clenched, his knuckles tightening around the steering wheel.

You didn’t understand at first—until realization hit you.

Oh.

Your face burned instantly, and you whipped your head back toward the window, pretending you hadn’t noticed.

Gi-hun exhaled slowly, gripping the wheel tighter. He was barely holding himself together, and the ache in his trousers was only making things worse.

He hadn’t even fully recovered before getting in the car, and now, trapped in this small space with you, your scent lingering in the air—it was torture.

Neither of you spoke.

For you, it was because you had no idea what to say. The moment you had stepped out of that dressing room, you had decided to act like nothing had happened.

To pretend that your hands hadn’t been all over him, that his chest hadn’t risen and fallen beneath your touch, that you hadn’t felt the heat radiating from his skin.

For Gi-hun, it was because he was dealing with another, more urgent problem—one that refused to go away no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

His grip on the wheel tightened as he pressed his foot on the gas, speeding up. He needed to get to this damn event as quickly as possible.

The last thing he wanted was to show up late.

The second-to-last thing he wanted was to show up with a hard-on.

But right now, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

…

The moment you stepped into the venue, your stomach twisted with anxiety.

The room was grand—gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, expensive wine glasses clinking as well-dressed guests laughed and talked effortlessly.

Everyone looked like they belonged here, draped in designer gowns and tailored suits.

And then there was you.

Still in your office uniform, standing awkwardly behind Gi-hun, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeve as insecurity crept up your spine. You didn’t belong here. You felt like an outsider, completely out of place among these wealthy, powerful people.

Gi-hun must have noticed because he let out an exaggerated sigh before rolling his eyes. Without warning, he grabbed your arm and pulled you forward, making you stumble slightly.

“ Stop hiding." He muttered low enough that only you could hear.

" But—"

" There’s no ‘but.’" His grip on your wrist tightened slightly, just enough to make you feel his warmth.

" You have no reason to be shy. You’re too damn beautiful to be standing in the background."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words.

Did he just—?

Before you could process it, Gi-hun was already leading you toward his table, where a group of wealthy businessmen were gathered. You felt impossibly small in their presence—men in luxurious suits, women in dresses worth more than your entire salary.

They all greeted Gi-hun with respect, some shaking his hand, others nodding in acknowledgment.

But he didn’t let go of you.

In fact, his grip on your wrist tightened even more, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made your heartbeat unsteady.

You stood beside him, too overwhelmed to say anything, your fingers twitching nervously. You could feel their eyes flicker toward you, some curious, others indifferent. You weren’t sure if you wanted to disappear or run out of the room entirely.

As your gaze anxiously scanned the venue, your eyes landed on a familiar figure.

Dae-ho.

The store manager from earlier was across the room, engaged in conversation with a few acquaintances. He looked completely at ease, laughing at something one of them said.

But as if sensing your stare, his eyes suddenly shifted toward you.

And when he saw you standing next to Gi-hun—his grip still firm on your wrist—a smirk slowly spread across his lips.

Oh no.

You had a feeling this night was far from over.

Gi-hun’s grip on your wrist finally loosened as he turned to his business partners. His expression was unreadable, his usual cold demeanor settling back into place.

" This is my assistant." He said, his voice firm and to the point. " She works directly under me."

Your throat tightened when you felt multiple pairs of eyes land on you. You shifted uncomfortably, unsure if you should bow, shake hands, or just stand there and pray for this moment to be over.

Your gaze quickly scanned the men in front of you.

The first one—a man with glasses—was staring at you from head to toe, his sharp eyes analyzing every inch of you. His expression remained neutral, but you couldn’t tell if he was judging you or simply curious. Either way, it made you self-conscious.

The second man had the most intimidating presence. He was tall, well-built, with slicked-back hair and a suit that looked more expensive than your entire apartment. He remained expressionless, barely acknowledging you at first. But then, his gaze flicked toward you, and for a moment, he just…stared.

There was something in his eyes—something unreadable. It wasn’t exactly cold, but it wasn’t welcoming either. He was studying you, as if trying to figure out why Gi-hun had brought you here.

And then there was the last man.

Unlike the others, he greeted you with a wide smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief. " Ah, so this is the assistant." He mused, shooting a teasing glance at Gi-hun. " Didn’t expect you to bring her, Gi-hun. You usually come alone."

Gi-hun shot him a warning look, but the man just chuckled. " Relax, I’m just saying. She’s a pretty one. It’s not every day we see someone like her around you."

Your cheeks burned at his words, and you instantly looked away, unsure of how to respond.

The man laughed at your reaction before leaning slightly toward you. " Don’t mind the others." He whispered conspiratorially. " They’re just trying to figure out what’s so special about you."

Before you could react, Gi-hun subtly stepped in front of you, his broad frame blocking the man’s view. His posture was casual, but you could sense the tension in his stance.

" Enough." Gi-hun muttered, his tone carrying a warning edge.

The man just smirked, raising his hands in surrender. " Alright, alright. No need to get possessive."

The word sent a shiver down your spine.

Possessive?

You glanced up at Gi-hun, but his expression remained cold, unreadable. Yet, the way he subtly shifted closer to you—how his fingers brushed against your wrist as if reminding you he was still there—you couldn’t ignore it.

Whatever this was between you and Gi-hun…

It was only getting more complicated.

The room fell into an eerie silence.

You could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on you, but none felt as heavy as Gi-hun’s.

Hwang In-ho.

The man with the unreadable expression had finally introduced himself, and the way his name rolled off his tongue sent a shiver down your spine. His presence alone was enough to make you uneasy, but his next words nearly made your heart stop.

" A stunning woman like you shouldn’t be hidden behind someone else." In-ho mused, his sharp eyes flicking to Gi-hun briefly before landing back on you.

" How about I take you out to dinner? A fine dining restaurant, nothing less. Someone like you deserves that, don’t you think?"

Your breath caught in your throat.

Did he just…ask you out?

Before you could even process it, Gi-hun’s entire body tensed beside you.

You didn’t have to look at him to know—his clenched jaw, his tightened fists, the rigid stance—he was furious. You had seen him annoyed before, cold and calculating, but this…this was different.

This was something much darker.

The silence dragged on, thick with tension. Then, just when you thought things couldn’t get more uncomfortable, In-ho reached for your hand.

His grip was firm but not forceful as he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss against your skin.

You gasped softly, your body instinctively freezing in place.

It wasn’t just the action itself—it was the way he did it. The way his unreadable gaze locked onto yours, as if daring you to react. As if daring Gi-hun to react.

And he did.

A sharp click of a tongue broke the silence.

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know it came from Gi-hun. His aura shifted, something dangerous simmering just beneath the surface.

Sang-woo, who had been quietly observing, smirked, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He had never seen Gi-hun like this before—so visibly possessive, so on edge.

And the best part?

Gi-hun didn’t even have a right to be.

You were just his employee. Nothing more.

But the way his fists clenched, the way his breathing grew heavier, the way his entire body was wound tight like a coil ready to snap—he wasn’t acting like just your boss.

No.

He was acting like a man who was one second away from ruining everything just to claim what was his.

Dae-ho, the observant one, stepped in just as the tension reached its peak. His timing was perfect—maybe a little too perfect, as if he had been waiting for the exact moment when Gi-hun was about to snap.

“ Alright, gentlemen.” Dae-ho said with an easygoing smile, clapping his hands together. “ I think we’ve had enough fun, don’t you? Why don’t we all take a seat and actually get to business?”

His words cut through the thick atmosphere like a blade, forcing everyone to momentarily pull back from whatever silent battle they were waging.

Gi-hun exhaled sharply through his nose but said nothing. His hand twitched at his side as if he was still considering throwing a punch, but after a long moment, he scoffed and turned on his heel.

Without another word, he pulled out a chair and sat down, though his posture remained stiff, tension still coiled in his shoulders.

In-ho, on the other hand, simply chuckled under his breath, clearly amused. He ran a hand through his sleek hair before finally taking his seat, casting you one last glance as he did.

Sang-woo followed suit, a smirk still lingering on his lips. He had enjoyed the show—watching Gi-hun wrestle with emotions he clearly didn’t want to acknowledge.

And you?

You were still overwhelmed, your heart racing as you slowly moved to sit beside Gi-hun. You felt small again, caught in the middle of something far more intense than just a business meeting.

Dae-ho, satisfied that he had at least defused some of the immediate hostility, let out a relaxed sigh and plopped down into his own chair.

“ Well then.” He grinned, looking around the table.

“ Shall we begin?”

The meeting had officially started.

But the real battle?

That was still going on—right under the surface.

As the meeting officially began, the air slowly shifted from tense to professional—at least on the surface.

Dae-ho took the lead, going over financial reports and the company’s performance for the past quarter. His tone was confident, smooth, and businesslike, though there was still an undertone of amusement lingering in his voice from the previous exchange.

“ The company is maintaining a steady revenue flow.” He explained, flipping through his reports. “ We’re in a stable position, but if we want to increase engagement and bring in more high-end clients, we’ll need to be proactive.”

He went on to discuss potential strategies—new marketing campaigns, expansion ideas, and partnerships that could boost their market presence. He also detailed the expenses each partner had contributed, ensuring transparency among them.

Meanwhile, you sat quietly beside Gi-hun, diligently taking notes.

It was your job, after all.

Your pen moved swiftly across the notepad, recording key points, figures, and any upcoming plans that were being discussed. Despite the earlier tension, you forced yourself to focus, trying to block out the lingering energy in the room.

But it wasn’t easy.

You could still feel Gi-hun’s presence beside you—his occasional sharp inhales, the way his fingers tapped subtly against the table in impatience.

He wasn’t fully listening; you could tell. His mind was elsewhere, probably still brooding over In-ho’s bold move.

Speaking of In-ho…

You risked a glance in his direction.

He was sitting with perfect posture, his arms resting on the table, listening intently to Dae-ho’s words. But the moment your eyes met his, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

As if he knew you were thinking about him.

Your breath hitched, and you quickly looked away, gripping your pen tighter.

Damn it.

The rest of the table continued discussing business, bouncing ideas back and forth, debating strategies. Sang-woo occasionally chimed in with a sarcastic remark, Dae-ho kept the energy balanced, and Gi-hun remained mostly silent, responding only when necessary.

But even as the meeting progressed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were at the center of a silent war between two powerful men.

And that realization made your heart pound even harder.

Your pen nearly slipped from your fingers.

A sharp gasp escaped your lips before you quickly bit down on it, your body stiffening in place.

Gi-hun’s hand.

Warm. Firm. Resting on your thigh like it belonged there.

You glanced down in disbelief, barely breathing as you took in the sight of his fingers against your skin. His touch wasn’t aggressive, but it was undeniably possessive.

It sent a shiver down your spine—one that had nothing to do with the air-conditioned room and everything to do with him.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you tried to regain focus.

This was insane. Completely inappropriate.

You swallowed hard, shifting slightly in your seat in an attempt to shake him off. But he didn’t move. If anything, his grip tightened just slightly—a silent warning.

You turned your head toward him, desperate to catch his attention, to silently question what the hell he thought he was doing.

But Gi-hun…

He didn’t even acknowledge you.

His face remained unreadable, his gaze locked onto his business partners as they continued to argue about strategy.

He nodded at the right moments, gave short replies when needed, but not once did he glance in your direction.

As if his hand wasn’t currently on you.

Then, as if to drive you further into madness, his fingers started moving.

Slow. Deliberate.

Circling against your skin in a teasing motion that made your stomach tighten.

Your breath hitched, fingers clutching your pen tightly as you tried to keep your expression neutral.

No one else at the table noticed.

They were too absorbed in their heated discussion, too busy debating figures and projections to pay attention to the silent game happening right under their noses.

But Gi-hun knew.

He knew what he was doing to you.

And judging by the way the corner of his lips barely, barely twitched upward…

He was enjoying every second of it.

You felt trapped.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, drowning out the voices around you. The room was still alive with debate—Dae-ho trying to keep things balanced while In-ho and Sang-woo threw in their own arguments—but none of it registered in your mind.

Not when his hand was still there.

Still touching you.

Still circling in slow, agonizing motions.

You swallowed thickly, your fingers trembling slightly as you gripped your pen. Your notes were becoming a mess—words smudged, some barely legible.

You had been doing your best to ignore it, to pretend like nothing was happening, but Gi-hun’s touch was making that impossible.

And the worst part?

He still wasn’t looking at you.

Not once did he turn his head, not once did he acknowledge the way your body had tensed under his hand. He remained the picture of calm, his deep voice occasionally chiming in when needed.

But you knew better.

The slight twitch at the corner of his lips. The way his fingers occasionally flexed against your thigh.

He was testing you.

Seeing how far he could push.

Your breath was uneven as you tried, one last time, to shake him off—subtly shifting your leg to the side in a desperate attempt to free yourself.

But the moment you moved, Gi-hun’s fingers tightened.

Firm. Commanding.

You sucked in a breath, your eyes snapping to him in disbelief.

Still, he didn’t look at you.

But this time, you saw it—the way his jaw clenched ever so slightly. The way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.

He wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be.

He was just better at hiding it.

And that realization made your stomach tighten even more.

You barely managed to grab his wrist in time.

Your fingers trembled as you held onto him, stopping his hand just before it could slip any further under your skirt. Your heart pounded so hard you were afraid the entire table could hear it.

This was too much.

You leaned toward him, voice barely above a whisper, desperate to regain some control.

“ I…I need to use the bathroom.” You murmured, forcing yourself to sound steady despite the way your entire body was betraying you.

For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Gi-hun turned his head toward you.

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable.

Then—that smirk.

A teasing, knowing curve of his lips, as if he was fully aware of what he had done to you.

As if he was enjoying watching you squirm.

He let the silence stretch between you, just long enough to make your pulse spike again, before finally nodding.

“ Go ahead.” He said, his tone smooth, almost amused.

You didn’t waste another second.

Pushing your chair back, you stood up as gracefully as you could despite your weak knees. You could still feel his gaze on you, burning into your back as you made your way out of the room.

The second you stepped into the hallway, you exhaled shakily, gripping your hands into fists.

You needed to clear your head.

You needed to breathe.

Because if you didn’t…

You weren’t sure you’d survive the rest of this night.

...

You turned the faucet on, letting the cold water run over your trembling hands before splashing it onto your flushed face.

Get it together.

Your grip on the porcelain sink tightened as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were still burning, your pupils slightly blown from the overwhelming tension Gi-hun had built between you two.

The way his hand had traveled over your thigh, the teasing circles of his fingers, the undeniable dominance in his touch—it all replayed in your mind like a loop, making your knees weak all over again.

You squeezed your thighs together instinctively, and that’s when you felt it.

The dampness pooling between your legs.

A shaky sigh escapes your lips as you hang your head, gripping the edges of the sink.

This was insane.

He was your boss.

And yet, the way he toyed with you—like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he was waiting for you to finally break—made it impossible to push him away.

You exhaled deeply, reaching for a paper towel and patting your face, hoping to rid yourself of these sinful thoughts.

You just needed to get through this night.

You could deal with the aftermath later.

With one final breath, you straightened your posture and smoothed your skirt, forcing your expression back into something neutral.

Then, gathering the last bit of composure you had left, you stepped out of the bathroom.

But the moment you did—

You froze.

Because standing just outside, leaning casually against the wall with that same damn smirk on his face—

Was Gi-hun.

You barely had time to react before Gi-hun grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside one of the bathroom stalls, the door slamming shut behind him.

Your back hit the cool tiled wall as he pressed in close, his hands braced on either side of you, trapping you in place.

Your breath hitched.

He was too close.

His scent, a mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely him, surrounded you, making your already overwhelmed senses spiral even further.

“ Gi-hun—” You started, voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes flicked down to yours, dark and unreadable. “ That’s sir to you.” He corrected smoothly, his voice low and commanding.

Your stomach flipped at the intensity in his gaze. “ W-Why are you doing this?” You asked, your voice weaker than you intended.

Gi-hun exhaled through his nose, his jaw clenching. His eyes swept over your face, searching, before he finally answered.

“ Because I want you.” He said, the honesty in his tone makes your breath catch.

“ And because I can’t stand watching them look at you like you’re something they can take.”

His admission sent a shiver down your spine.

He leaned in just a fraction closer, enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek.

The fluorescent lights above cast a dull glow over the restroom, the hum of the ventilation system barely covering the distant chatter outside.

You barely register any of it—your entire world has narrowed to the cramped space of the cubicle, where Seong Gi-hun's lips press hungrily against yours.

His hands are everywhere—trailing down your back, gripping your waist as if anchoring himself to you. His body is flush against yours, the flimsy partition behind you rattling slightly with every shift of movement.

The scent of him—faint cologne mixed with something undeniably him—fills your senses, making your head spin.

You gasp as he tugs you even closer, his lips parting just enough to let his tongue sweep against yours, slow and deep.

He groans into the kiss, the sound vibrating through your chest, sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers dig into your hips, desperate, as if he’s afraid this moment will slip away too soon.

Gi-hun pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his breath warm against your lips. His eyes, darkened with want, search yours for something—reassurance, permission, maybe even a hint of the same desperation that’s written all over his face.

" You have no idea how long I've wanted this." He murmurs, voice husky.

Your pulse stutters, and before you can respond, he crashes his lips back onto yours, this time more frantic, more demanding.

The air between you grows thick, heated, each kiss more feverish than the last. His hands slide beneath your shirt, fingertips grazing your bare skin, sending electricity coursing through you.

The reality of where you are—how risky this is—only fuels the fire. The thrill of being caught lingers in the back of your mind, but right now, none of it matters.

All that matters is Gi-hun—the way he holds you like he never wants to let go, the way he breathes your name between kisses, the way he makes you forget everything but him.

The moment Gi-hun’s lips break away from yours, his breath is ragged, his forehead resting against yours. His fingers trace slow, burning patterns along your waist before he speaks, his voice low and rough.

“ Unbutton my shirt.” He orders, his tone laced with something between command and admiration. There’s no hesitation in his voice—just pure confidence, like he already knows you’ll listen.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the buttons, undoing them one by one, your touch light against the fabric. His eyes never leave you, watching your every movement with a dark intensity.

There’s something about the way he looks at you, something that makes the air feel heavier, makes heat rise to your cheeks.

When the last button comes undone, his shirt hangs loosely around his frame, revealing toned skin beneath. He exhales sharply, his lips curving into a smirk as he runs his fingers along your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

“ So obedient.” He murmurs, almost to himself, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His admiration is clear—not just in his words but in the way he looks at you, like you’re something to be treasured, something he never wants to let slip away.

Before you can react, his lips crash onto yours again, more intense this time, more desperate. His hands slip around your waist, pulling you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours.

The public restroom, the risk of getting caught—it all fades away. Right now, the only thing that exists is him, and the way he makes you feel completely, utterly his.

As soon as you slip the last button undone, Gi-hun's shirt hangs loosely around his shoulders, exposing the defined lines of his chest. His voice is deep, commanding yet teasing as he gives his next order.

“ Take it off.”

You swallow hard, your fingers moving instinctively to slide the fabric from his shoulders. As the shirt falls away, your eyes drink in the sight before you—toned abs, firm pecs, the dips and ridges of his muscles that look like they were sculpted by the gods themselves.

A sharp inhale escapes you before you can stop it. Your lips part slightly, and without realizing it, you bite down on your bottom lip, eyes roaming over him with pure admiration.

The way his skin glows under the dim light makes your breath hitch, your pulse pounding.

Gi-hun smirks, clearly pleased by your reaction. “ Like what you see?” He teases, his voice dripping with amusement.

You can’t even find the words to respond, too caught up in the sheer perfection of him. Noticing your dazed expression, he takes your hand in his, his fingers warm and firm as he slowly guides it up to his chest.

The moment your fingertips brush against his skin, he tenses slightly, his breath hitching.

Your touch glides down, tracing over the ridges of his abs, feeling the tautness beneath your fingertips. When your hand reaches his stomach, he lets out a sharp hiss, his muscles twitching under your touch.

His grip tightens around your wrist, his eyes dark and filled with something unreadable—desire, control, something raw and unspoken.

“ Careful.” He murmurs, his voice lower now, raspier. “ You’re playing with fire.”

And yet, the way he watches you, the way he lets you explore him, tells you he doesn’t mind getting burned.

His fingers trailed along the back of your hand, guiding it slowly—deliberately—down to the hardened length straining against his trousers.

A sharp hiss escaped his lips as he felt your delicate fingers brush over him, even through the thick fabric.

His grip tightened around your wrist, pressing your palm against his arousal, forcing you to feel just how much he needed you.

" Look at what you do to me." He murmured, voice thick with desire. His breathing was ragged, uneven.

" Every damn time I talk to you, I end up like this—aching, desperate, ready to ruin you."

His free hand moved to the zipper of his trousers, dragging it down agonizingly slowly. Without breaking eye contact, he took your wrist and slid your hand inside, letting you feel the heat of him through the damp fabric of his boxers.

Your breath hitched. The moment felt dizzying, overwhelming, sending a shiver through your spine. Your thoughts blurred, overtaken by the sheer intensity of his presence.

His lips ghosted over your ear as he whispered, " It's tempting…to bend you over this fucking table and show everyone exactly how much I want you."

A sharp nip at your neck made you gasp, your body melting against his. Your fingers twitched around him, stroking tentatively, feeling the slickness of his arousal seeping through his boxers.

Gi-hun groaned—a deep, guttural sound that sent a pulse straight between your legs.

Then, his grip on your hair tightened.

" Get on your knees."

The order was hushed, firm, and left no room for defiance.

Your body moved instinctively, sinking before him without hesitation. His darkened gaze flickered with something primal as he looked down at you—on your knees, waiting, eager. It nearly unraveled him.

" Fuck—" He exhaled, fingers threading into your hair before gathering it into his fist, pulling just enough to make your scalp tingle.

" Such a good girl." He murmured, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He guided your face forward, pressing it against the warmth of his bare stomach, the sharp ridges of his abs flexing beneath your lips.

" Lick."

It was a simple command, but his voice dripped with sinful intent.

Your tongue flicked out hesitantly, tracing along the defined lines of his abdomen, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your lips. His breath hitched, fingers tightening in your hair as his entire body tensed.

A deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest as his head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut in pure, unfiltered pleasure.

His restraint was slipping. And you knew it.

And you weren’t about to stop now.

Your warm breath fanned against his skin as your tongue glided along the sculpted lines of his abs. The way his muscles tensed beneath your lips sent a rush of heat straight between your thighs.

He groaned low in his throat, the sound dark and guttural, his grip on your hair tightening.

" That’s it…such a good girl for me." He murmured, his voice thick with approval.

His other hand came to cradle your jaw, his thumb pressing lightly against your chin, guiding your head lower. " You know exactly where I want that mouth next, don’t you?"

Your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him, eyes dark with unspoken need. His smirk deepened at your expression—so eager, so obedient. He let out a shaky breath, his self-control fraying by the second.

" Undo my belt."

Your fingers trembled slightly as you obeyed, reaching for the leather strap around his waist.

The soft click of the buckle echoed between you, followed by the slow, teasing slide of the belt slipping through the loops.

You could feel how hard he was beneath his trousers, straining against the fabric, desperate for relief.

He let out a low chuckle, watching you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. " So delicate…but I know you can handle this."

You swallowed hard as you unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down the rest of the way. The moment you did, his boxers barely contained the hardness beneath, a damp spot visible where his arousal had already leaked through.

His fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back. " Open that pretty mouth for me."

A shiver ran down your spine as you parted your lips, your breath hitching when he ran his thumb along your bottom lip, teasing you. His chest rose and fell with deep, controlled breaths, trying to maintain the last shred of his restraint.

" Fuck…you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this."

Gi-hun’s hips rolled forward slightly, pressing himself against your lips through the fabric, forcing you to feel just how desperate he was for you.

He groaned at the contact, his other hand caressing your cheek before guiding your mouth exactly where he wanted you.

" Now be a good girl and take care of me.”

Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed himself against your lips, the heat of him radiating through the fabric of his boxers.

His fingers tangled in your hair, his grip firm yet teasing, as if testing the limits of his own control.

" You feel that?" He murmured, his voice thick with desire. " That’s what you do to me. Every damn time."

His other hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your parted lips, smearing the warmth of his arousal against your skin.

He exhaled a shaky breath, tilting his head back for a moment, as if gathering himself.

But then his gaze dropped to you again, dark and dangerous. " Look at you…on your knees, waiting so patiently. You like this, don’t you?"

You swallowed hard, unable to answer, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating deep in his chest.

" Such a good girl."

With a slow, deliberate movement, he finally tugged his boxers down just enough, freeing himself from the tight constraint. His arousal stood heavy and thick before you, the sight alone making your stomach coil with anticipation.

His fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your head up slightly so he could drink in the expression on your face—your wide, expectant eyes, the soft parting of your lips.

" You know what to do." He murmured, voice dangerously low. " Show me just how good you can be."

He guided your head forward, his grip never loosening as he watched you with dark intensity. The heat between you was suffocating, every breath laced with the unspoken tension crackling in the air.

And when your lips finally parted for him, his breath stuttered. His fingers tightened in your hair.

" Fuck—"

His control was slipping. And he was about to lose himself completely to you.

Your lips part as he moves slowly, teasing, dragging out the moment just to watch you squirm. His dark, hooded eyes stay locked onto yours, drinking in every little reaction—every twitch of your mouth, every shallow breath. He knows exactly what he's doing, savoring the power he has over you.

" Look at you." He murmurs, voice dripping with amusement. " So eager to take me, hmm?"

His words send a shiver down your spine, heat pooling in your core. His hips move with deliberate control, each slow thrust forcing you to feel every inch of him.

Your throat tightens around him, and his breath stutters—a sharp inhale, his chest rising and falling with ragged need.

" Fucking hell." He groans, his fingers tangling in your hair. " So fucking perfect like this."

Without warning, he pushes deeper, forcing you to take him further than before. Your throat constricts, a gagged gasp escaping as your eyes flutter shut.

A sharp, choked sound follows, your body instinctively trying to adjust, but he doesn’t let up. He watches you struggle for a moment, his grip tightening in your hair as if he’s daring himself to lose control.

" Fuck, that's it." He hisses. " You can take more, can't you?"

You try to nod, but the intensity of the moment has your body trembling. A muffled whimper vibrates against him, sending a curse tumbling from his lips.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulls back, letting you gasp for air. A thick strand of saliva stretches between you, clinging to his length, glistening under the dim light.

His thumb traces your swollen lips, smearing the wetness across them. " Messy little thing." He murmurs, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. " And so damn pretty like this."

The look in his eyes—possessive, hungry—tells you this is far from over.

“ If you keep looking at me like that.” He whispers, his fingers tightening on your hips, “ I won’t be able to hold back.”

Before you can catch your breath, he grabs you, pulling you up with effortless strength and slamming your back against the wall.

A sharp gasp escapes your lips, but it's swallowed immediately as his mouth crashes onto yours, hungry, desperate.

His tongue pushes past your lips, dominating yours with feverish need, as if he can't get enough of you.

" Fuck." He growls against your mouth, his voice thick with lust. " You drive me insane, you know that?"

His hands are everywhere—possessive, demanding. One grips your thigh, hiking it up against his waist, while the other snakes down, sliding under your skirt with shameless urgency.

His fingers skim along the lace of your damp knickers, and he chuckles darkly, pulling back just enough to let you see the smug, hungry look in his eyes.

" So fucking wet for me already." He murmurs, dragging his fingers over the soaked fabric, teasing you, making you arch against him. " You love this, don’t you? Love how I touch you?"

A whimper escapes you as he presses a little harder, rubbing slow, torturous circles. His teeth graze your lower lip before Gi-hun bites down—sharp, claiming—earning a sharp gasp from you.

He soothes it with his tongue, his breath hot against your mouth.

" You take me so well." He praises, his voice low and reverent, filled with pure desire. " Always so perfect for me. So fucking tight, so eager. You were made for this—made for me."

His fingers push aside the fabric, gliding through your slick heat, teasing your entrance before dipping just the tip inside, enough to make you shudder.

His lips move to your jaw, then your neck, biting, sucking, marking you as his.

" That's it, baby." He groans against your skin, feeling the way you react to his every touch. " Let me hear you. Let me feel how bad you need me."

Gi-hun's pace grows rougher, more insistent, as his control frays. And with the way he's looking at you—like he's about to ruin you—you know this is only the beginning.

Before you can react, he grabs you, pulling you up with raw strength and slamming your back against the wall.

The impact steals your breath, but he doesn’t give you a chance to recover—his mouth crashes onto yours, all hunger and desperation. His lips move fiercely against yours, his tongue sweeping inside to claim you, devouring every moan you let slip.

" Damn, you taste so fucking good." He growls against your lips, his voice rough, thick with desire. " I could kiss you like this forever."

His hands are restless, roaming, exploring. One grips your thigh, hoisting it against his hip, pressing you hard against the wall.

The other snakes downward, slipping beneath your skirt with shameless urgency. His fingers graze your inner thigh, teasing you, taking his time like he enjoys feeling you squirm beneath him.

" You're already soaking through." He murmurs against your lips, amusement lacing his voice as he brushes over the damp fabric of your knickers.

His fingers press firmly against your heat, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that make your body jolt.

" Fuck!" He groans, pulling back just enough to look at you—your lips kiss-swollen, your breath shaky. " You love this, don’t you? Love how I touch you?"

You barely manage a nod before he bites down on your lower lip, hard enough to make you gasp. He soothes the sting with his tongue, then trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, to your neck. His teeth scrape against your skin before he bites, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

" That’s it.” He praises, his breath hot against your pulse. " Such a good girl for me. Always so fucking perfect."

His fingers push past the lace, sliding between your slick folds, teasing your entrance, but never quite giving you what you crave.

He groans at how wet you are, his forehead pressing against yours as he rubs his fingers over your clit, slow and torturous.

" You take me so damn well, baby." He murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, his breath ragged. " Always so tight, always ready for me. You were made for this—made for me."

Gi-hun sinks a finger inside, and you choke on a moan, gripping onto his shoulders as your walls clench around him. His dark eyes stay locked on you, watching every little reaction, feeding off your pleasure.

" Fuck, I love how you react to me." He whispers, curling his fingers just right, drawing a sharp cry from you. " You wanna cum for me already, don’t you? You're so fucking desperate for it."

His smirk is wicked as he adds another finger, thrusting deeper, rougher. His other hand grips your thigh tighter, keeping you pinned against the wall as his fingers work you over mercilessly. His breath is hot against your ear as he growls,

" Let go for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my fingers."

And with the way he's touching you—possessive, relentless, like he wants to ruin you—you know you won't last much longer.

His fingers move faster, thrusting deep inside you with a relentless pace, stretching you, filling you.

The wet sounds of your arousal mix with the sharp, ragged breaths escaping both of you, the air between you thick with heat and desire.

Gi-hun watches you, his dark, hungry eyes locked onto your face, taking in the way your lips part, the way your body trembles as you struggle to keep yourself upright against the wall.

" That's it, baby." He murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. " You're so fucking close, aren't you? I can feel you clenching around me."

His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

Your moans grow louder, needier, and his smirk widens. He loves this—loves knowing he’s the one making you fall apart.

" Shit, you feel so fucking good." He groans, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot and heavy. " So damn tight for me…I could do this all night, just watching you come undone on my fingers."

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the pressure builds inside you, winding tighter and tighter.

His free hand slides up your body, slipping under your shirt to cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your hardened nipple.

The added sensation makes you gasp, your body arching into him.

" Fuck, look at you." He breathes, his fingers moving even faster. " You're shaking. You wanna cum so bad, don’t you?"

You nod desperately, unable to form words, your legs threatening to give out. Gi-hun chuckles, low and dark, his lips brushing against your ear.

" Then do it, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Let me feel you fall apart."

The moment he says it, your body gives in, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls tighten around his fingers, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the orgasm rips through you.

He doesn’t stop—he keeps thrusting, drawing it out, making sure you feel every last second of pleasure.

" Fuck, that’s it." he groans, watching you with pure hunger. " Shit, you’re so fucking beautiful like this."

As your body trembles from the aftershocks, he finally slows, his fingers still buried deep inside you, lazily stroking you through the last waves of bliss.

Gi-hun brings his hand up, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and smirks before slipping them into his mouth, groaning as he tastes you.

" Sweet as fucking honey." He murmurs, his eyes dark with promise. " And I’m not even close to being done with you."

With that look in his eyes, you know he means it.

With a desperate need that matches your own, he swiftly tugs at your skirt, yanking it down along with your panties, leaving you bare before him.

The cool air against your heated skin sends a shiver down your spine, but the way he looks at you—hungry, possessive—sets your entire body ablaze.

Before you can react, he grabs you, pulling you up with raw strength and slamming your back against the wall.

The impact steals your breath, but he doesn’t give you a chance to recover—his mouth crashes onto yours, all hunger and desperation.

His lips move fiercely against yours, his tongue sweeping inside to claim you, devouring every moan you let slip.

" Damn, you taste so fucking good." He growls against your lips, his voice rough, thick with desire. " I could kiss you like this forever."

His hands are restless, roaming, exploring. One grips your thigh, hoisting it against his hip, pressing you hard against the wall.

The other snakes downward, slipping beneath your skirt with shameless urgency. His fingers graze your inner thigh, teasing you, taking his time like he enjoys feeling you squirm beneath him.

" You're already soaking through." He murmurs against your lips, amusement lacing his voice as he brushes over the damp fabric of your knickers.

His fingers press firmly against your heat, rubbing slow, deliberate circles that make your body jolt.

" Fuck!" He groans, pulling back just enough to look at you—your lips kiss-swollen, your breath shaky. " You love this, don’t you? Love how I touch you?"

You barely manage a nod before he bites down on your lower lip, hard enough to make you gasp. He soothes the sting with his tongue, then trails hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, to your neck.

His teeth scrape against your skin before he bites, sucking hard enough to leave a mark.

" That’s it.” He praises, his breath hot against your pulse. " Such a good girl for me. Always so fucking perfect."

His fingers push past the lace, sliding between your slick folds, teasing your entrance, but never quite giving you what you crave.

He groans at how wet you are, his forehead pressing against yours as he rubs his fingers over your clit, slow and torturous.

" You take me so damn well, baby." He murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, his breath ragged. " Always so tight, always ready for me. You were made for this—made for me."

Gi-hun sinks a finger inside, and you choke on a moan, gripping onto his shoulders as your walls clench around him. His dark eyes stay locked on you, watching every little reaction, feeding off your pleasure.

" Fuck, I love how you react to me." He whispers, curling his fingers just right, drawing a sharp cry from you. " You wanna cum for me already, don’t you? You're so fucking desperate for it."

His smirk is wicked as he adds another finger, thrusting deeper, rougher. His other hand grips your thigh tighter, keeping you pinned against the wall as his fingers work you over mercilessly. His breath is hot against your ear as he growls,

" Let go for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my fingers."

And with the way he's touching you—possessive, relentless, like he wants to ruin you—you know you won't last much longer.

His fingers move faster, thrusting deep inside you with a relentless pace, stretching you, filling you.

The wet sounds of your arousal mix with the sharp, ragged breaths escaping both of you, the air between you thick with heat and desire.

Gi-hun watches you, his dark, hungry eyes locked onto your face, taking in the way your lips part, the way your body trembles as you struggle to keep yourself upright against the wall.

" That's it, baby." He murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. " You're so fucking close, aren't you? I can feel you clenching around me."

His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

Your moans grow louder, needier, and his smirk widens. He loves this—loves knowing he’s the one making you fall apart.

" Shit, you feel so fucking good." He groans, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath hot and heavy. " So damn tight for me…I could do this all night, just watching you come undone on my fingers."

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as the pressure builds inside you, winding tighter and tighter.

His free hand slides up your body, slipping under your shirt to cup your breast, his thumb rolling over your hardened nipple.

The added sensation makes you gasp, your body arching into him.

" Fuck, look at you." He breathes, his fingers moving even faster. " You're shaking. You wanna cum so bad, don’t you?"

You nod desperately, unable to form words, your legs threatening to give out. Gi-hun chuckles, low and dark, his lips brushing against your ear.

" Then do it, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me. Let me feel you fall apart."

The moment he says it, your body gives in, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls tighten around his fingers, a sharp cry escaping your lips as the orgasm rips through you.

He doesn’t stop—he keeps thrusting, drawing it out, making sure you feel every last second of pleasure.

" Fuck, that’s it." He groans, watching you with pure hunger. " Shit, you’re so fucking beautiful like this."

As your body trembles from the aftershocks, he finally slows, his fingers still buried deep inside you, lazily stroking you through the last waves of bliss.

Gi-hun brings his hand up, his fingers glistening with your arousal, and smirks before slipping them into his mouth, groaning as he tastes you.

" Sweet as fucking honey." He murmurs, his eyes dark with promise. " And I’m not even close to being done with you."

With that look in his eyes, you know he means it.

With a desperate need that matches your own, he swiftly tugs at your skirt, yanking it down along with your panties, leaving you bare before him.

The cool air against your heated skin sends a shiver down your spine, but the way he looks at you—hungry, possessive—sets your entire body ablaze.

" Fuck." He breathes, taking a step back to admire you, his tongue swiping over his lower lip. " Look at you…spread out for me, dripping, desperate. You’re so fucking perfect."

Gi-hun's voice is thick with lust, his eyes dark and full of need. He could devour you right here, right now—but first, he needs a moment to prepare himself.

You watch, entranced, as he takes a small step back, his fingers moving to his waistband.

With one swift motion, he undoes his belt, the metallic clink sending a thrill through your body. He shoves his pants down just enough to free himself, and the sight of him—thick, hard, glistening with arousal—makes your core clench with anticipation.

" See what you do to me?" He mutters, wrapping his hand around his length, stroking it slowly.

His gaze stays locked on yours, watching your reaction, drinking in every little tremor that runs through your body.

" You make me so fucking hard. I need to be inside you, need to feel you wrapped around me."

Then, without breaking eye contact, he spits on his length, his fingers spreading the wetness as he strokes himself with slow, deliberate movements.

The lewd, slick sounds fill the air, making your thighs squeeze together involuntarily. He smirks at your reaction, his pace quickening slightly as he watches you shift, aching for him.

" Fuck, baby." He groans, his voice strained with restraint. " You’re watching me so damn closely. Does it turn you on? Seeing how bad I want you?"

You swallow hard, nodding, your body already begging for him.

Gi-hun steps closer again, the heat radiating off him making your skin burn with need. His free hand grips your thigh, pulling you back against the wall, spreading you open for him.

" Are you ready for me?" He murmurs, positioning himself at your entrance, teasing you with the tip, dragging it slowly through your slick folds. " Because once I start, I’m not stopping until I’ve ruined you."

The promise in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You know he means every word.

Before you can catch your breath, he grabs your waist and flips you around effortlessly. Your chest presses against the cold tiles, a sharp contrast to the burning heat between your thighs.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the sting from the sudden movement radiates across your skin, your hands clutching at the wall for support.

" Fuck, you look so good like this." He growls behind you, his voice thick with lust. His hands grip your hips possessively, holding you firmly in place.

Gi-hun presses his body against yours, his bare chest warm against your back, his hardness throbbing as it nestles between your thighs. The contact alone makes you shudder.

" You’re shaking." He murmurs against your ear, his breath hot, teasing. " Are you that desperate for me already?"

Before you can respond, he shifts slightly, one hand sliding down your stomach, grazing your sensitive skin before he reaches between your legs.

His fingers part your slick folds, spreading you open for him. He groans at the feeling of how wet you are, how easily you yield to his touch.

" Fuck, baby." He mutters, rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. " So damn ready for me. You need me to fill you up, don’t you?"

A strangled moan escapes your lips as he pulls back just enough to guide himself to your entrance.

The thick head of his cock presses against you, teasing, stretching you just enough to make you gasp. He doesn’t push in yet—just lets the tip rest there, pulsing, making you feel the heat of him.

" Feel that?" He groans, sliding just the tip in before pulling back out again, torturing you with anticipation. " You’re already sucking me in, baby. So fucking tight for me."

You whimper, pressing back against him instinctively, but his grip tightens on your hips, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

His free hand comes up, gripping your hair, tilting your head back just enough for him to whisper in your ear.

" Patience." he chuckles darkly, nipping at your earlobe. " I wanna hear you beg for it."

He thrusts just the tip inside again, slow and deliberate, making your legs tremble beneath you. The pressure, the teasing, the way he’s holding back when you need him the most—it’s unbearable.

" Tell me how bad you want it." He demands, his voice deep and commanding. " Tell me you need me to ruin you."

And with the way he’s holding you, teasing you, keeping you on the edge, you know you’ll say anything just to have him inside you.

A shudder runs through you as he finally pushes inside, stretching you inch by inch, filling you completely.

He groans at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself to the hilt.

" Fuck." He hisses, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. " You feel so fucking good, baby. So damn tight for me."

Gi-hun stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his fingers tracing lazy circles over your hip. But the second he feels you relax around him, his restraint snaps.

With a sharp thrust, he pulls back and slams into you, knocking the breath from your lungs.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air as he picks up his pace, each deep stroke hitting the spot that makes you see stars.

You barely have time to moan before his hand suddenly covers your mouth, silencing you.

" Shh.” He whispers, his voice a low, dangerous growl. " Someone just walked in. You wouldn’t want them to hear how filthy you sound, would you?"

His hips snap forward, rougher this time, forcing a muffled cry from you against his palm. His other hand snakes around your waist, pulling you flush against him, making sure you take every inch.

" God, you love this, don’t you?" He murmurs in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. " Being fucked like this…helpless, pinned against the wall, forced to keep quiet while I ruin you."

He thrusts deeper, grinding against you with each movement, his cock stretching you in a way that has your legs shaking beneath you.

His hand stays firm over your mouth as he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear.

" Bet you’d love to scream for me.” He continues, his voice laced with amusement. " Beg me to go harder, tell me how fucking good I feel inside you. But you can’t, can you?"

Another sharp thrust, and your muffled whimper only fuels him further. His grip tightens on your jaw as he presses you harder against the tiles, completely at his mercy.

" Such a good girl," he praises, voice husky. " Taking me so fucking well. So damn tight, so fucking perfect around me."

He’s relentless now, his strokes deep and punishing, the pleasure almost overwhelming. His teeth graze your neck, his tongue flicking against your sensitive skin before he bites down, marking you.

" You’re gonna cum for me." Gi-hun growls against your ear, his pace never faltering. " And you’re gonna do it just like this—silently, while anyone could walk in and see how fucking wrecked you are for me."

His words send you spiraling, and with the way he’s pounding into you, you know you won’t last much longer.

A deep, guttural groan rumbles from his chest as he thrusts one last time, his body tensing against yours.

The pleasure crashes over both of you at once, white-hot and overwhelming. Your walls flutter around him, gripping him tightly as he releases deep inside you, filling you completely.

His grip on your waist tightens, as if anchoring himself in the moment, before his forehead drops to your shoulder, breathless and spent.

" Fuck, baby." He murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction. " You took me so damn well…like you were made for me."

Your legs tremble beneath you, your body still shuddering from the aftershocks of pleasure. He chuckles softly, the sound deep and smug, his hands running soothing circles over your hips.

" Look at you." He praises, pressing a lazy kiss to your shoulder. " Still shaking. Did I fuck you that good?"

Gi-hun gives you a moment to recover, his fingers tracing along your skin, grounding you as your breath steadies.

Then, with slow, deliberate care, he pulls out, and the absence of him leaves you aching. A sharp gasp escapes you as you feel the warmth between your thighs, the mixture of both of you trailing down your legs.

His hands slide down, his fingers catching the mess as it drips down your inner thighs. A deep, satisfied hum leaves his lips as he gathers the slick evidence of what just happened between you, spreading it between his fingers before bringing it up to show you.

" Look at this, baby." He murmurs, his voice husky, laced with amusement and something darker. " See how messy you are for me? God, that’s so fucking sexy."

His fingers brush against your lips, smearing the slickness across your skin as his eyes darken with renewed hunger. " You take everything I give you so perfectly." He whispers, his tone both reverent and possessive.

" My perfect girl."

He watches you with a smirk, his fingers still playing with the remnants of your pleasure, knowing damn well that even though you're spent, he’s already thinking about ruining you all over again.

Gi-hun notices. Of course, he does. His smirk deepens, eyes flickering with mischief as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief.

Without a word, he crouches slightly, his fingers brushing against your thigh as he wipes away the mixture of fluids staining your skin.

The sensation makes you shudder, your breath hitching, but what makes it worse is the way he watches you—the way his dark eyes gleam with satisfaction, as if admiring his own handiwork.

His touch is surprisingly gentle, but the teasing glint in his expression is anything but.

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he continues his slow, deliberate movements. “ Look at this mess.” He muses, his tone full of mock disapproval. “ I really did a number on you, huh?”

Your face burns at his words, and you swat at his shoulder, but he only laughs, the rich sound filling the tiny stall. “ Stop talking.” You grumble, turning your face away in embarrassment.

Gi-hun leans in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “ Why? You seemed to like it just fine a few minutes ago.”

Your entire body tenses at that, and when you finally turn back to him, ready to argue, you find him grinning at you—so smug, so pleased with himself.

And yet, beneath all the teasing, there’s something else in his gaze—something softer. A silent admiration, as if he still can’t quite believe this moment just happened

He finishes wiping you off, tucking the soiled handkerchief back into his pocket before straightening up.

His hands return to your waist, giving you a reassuring squeeze as he looks at you with something dangerously close to adoration.

“ You okay?” He asks, his voice quieter now, more sincere.

You nod, though your legs are still wobbly. “ Yeah,” you whisper, unable to meet his eyes for too long.

Gi-hun chuckles, tilting your chin up so you have no choice but to look at him. “ Good.” He murmurs, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips. “ Because I’m not done with you yet.”

“ If I wasn’t so damn professional, I would’ve shown them exactly who you belong to.”

His voice was quiet but laced with unmistakable possessiveness.

Your chest tightened at his words.

This was dangerous.

This was insane.

Gi-hun’s lips linger on yours for a moment before he finally pulls back, his eyes searching yours with something unreadable—something deeper than just satisfaction.

He brushes his thumb over your flushed cheek, his usual teasing smirk softening into something almost tender.

“ You’re still shaking.” He murmurs, his voice lower now, more careful.

You try to steady yourself, taking a shaky breath, but your legs are still weak. He notices, of course. His hands are back on your waist in an instant, holding you up as if you might collapse at any second.

You can feel his warmth, his steady presence, and it makes your heart pound even harder.

“ Come here.” He says, his tone losing its earlier cockiness. Before you can protest, he scoops you up in one swift motion, cradling you in his arms effortlessly.

“ Si-sir!” you stammer, heat rushing to your face. “ I can walk just fine—”

“ Oh, really?” He interrupts, raising a brow. “ Because from where I’m standing, you look like you can barely stand at all.”

You open your mouth to argue, but his smirk is back, playful yet fond. You know he won’t budge, so you sigh and let your head rest against his shoulder, trying to hide how flustered you are.

As he carries you out of the cubicle, his grip remains firm but gentle, his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin.

The air between you has shifted—no longer just teasing and desire, but something quieter, something warmer.

He carries you over to the small bench near the sink and carefully sets you down. Then, much to your surprise, he kneels in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs as he looks up at you with an expression that makes your breath catch.

“ I wasn’t too rough, was I?” His voice is quieter now, the cocky edge replaced with something more vulnerable.

You shake your head, your fingers instinctively reaching out to brush his messy hair back from his face. “ No…You were perfect.”

Something flickers in his eyes at your words—relief, maybe even something like pride. He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning into your touch. “ Good.” He murmurs. “ Because I don’t think I could’ve held back even if I tried.”

A comfortable silence settles between you. The world outside the small restroom feels distant, like it doesn’t exist at all.

Gi-hun watches you for a moment longer before he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your knee, a stark contrast to the fire that had consumed him moments ago.

“ You really do drive me insane.” He mutters against your skin.

And with the way he’s looking at you now—like he never wants to let you go—you know this is far from over.

He tilted his head slightly, smirking at your dazed expression. Then, without warning, he stole a quick, fleeting kiss—his lips barely brushing against yours before pulling back, his smirk deepening when he saw the way you froze.

“ Fix yourself up.” He murmured, stepping back fully and unlocking the stall door.

And just like that, he was gone—leaving you alone, breathless, and completely confused about everything that had just happened.

You stood there for a moment, gripping the edges of your skirt as you tried to steady your breathing. Your heart was still racing, your skin still tingling from the brief contact of his lips.

What the hell just happened?

Gi-hun had always been distant, calculated—yet tonight, he was anything but. His jealousy, his possessiveness, the way he cornered you, confessed what he wanted so bluntly…it left you completely off balance.

And worse?

It stirred something deep inside you that you weren’t ready to face.

Shaking your head, you turned toward the mirror, patting your cheeks to cool the heat burning beneath your skin.

You needed to compose yourself. You were still at an event, and Gi-hun—your boss—was waiting for you.

Taking a deep breath, you straighten your posture, smoothing out your skirt before pushing open the bathroom door.

[kalinara]

I've mentioned this before, I know, but this whole intro is why I couldn't get into Hellions.

I did try. I read the thing, but whatever good there was later was muddled for me by the fact that the premise required everyone to be incredibly out of character.

Don't get me wrong, I enjoy how the Council ultimately destroys most of what it touches, but I can't get over the idea that they wouldn't have SOMETHING in place for mental health issues.

Or external possession issues, since Alex's thing is kind of a combination of both.

Cassandra Nova can be in some isolated part of the island, but we have to accept the idea of giving these characters to Sinister because there's nothing else in place?

I might have been okay with that if it was more than just Scott protesting here. But when you have characters like Kurt talking about this like it's a positive solution to a problem that no one bothered to consider... (Also the fact that Jean didn't vaporize Sinister when he says that "you're so much prettier when you smile" line is vastly OOC.)

You've got a point about Scott being nepotistic - I don't think that's a trait he tends to have normally, but given that Alex blew himself up in the Rosenberg run, I'm okay with a bit of overprotectiveness now. I'm just incredibly grateful that he does try to protest giving Alex (and anyone else) to Sinister.

Actually, to be honest, Hellions was one of the first Krakoa books I read, because I heard about the premise and needed to know, immediately, how that happened. Because the idea that HE might have willingly allowed Alex to be given to Sinister would possibly have been the deal-breaker that would have destroyed my love for the character. I might be a pro-level Cyclops apologist, but there are limits. But thankfully, aside from some easily glossed over situational hypocrisy, I think he's the only one in the intro scenes who is remotely in character. And I appreciate that he tries to put something in place to protect them, even if it ends up quickly subverted.

The most frustrating part of it is that it would have been incredibly easy to make it work. I mean, there's no getting past the fact that Xavier and company apparently never considered how to deal with the fact that many mutants are traumatized and mentally ill when creating their sanctuary to begin with. But if it was presented as "Actually, a team isn't a bad idea but we're absolutely not letting SINISTER run it!" and then Sinister, of course, goes around their back to take control anyway (basically the whole thing with Scott and Kwannon, just with all of them.) then I'd have a lot less trouble accepting the rest of the story.

--

Tangentially, I have a lot of issues with the Maddie set up here. I mean, everyone is absolutely right when they point out Sinister is on the Council, and thus punishing her for her deeds (many of which can be laid at his feet) is incredibly unfair.

But I resent that the way it's set up, there's no real meaningful way for any of the people who directly suffered at Maddie's hands to speak up against her. I think Scott probably did support Alex, as he said, but I certainly wouldn't blame him for being lukewarm at best about it. Sure, she started as the wronged party, but a few torture sessions, at least one sexual assault, and so on later... well, let's just say, I wouldn't blame Scott for abstaining.

(Actually to be fair, I've never been sure how much of that was her versus an AU version. But I can't really begrudge Scott for not knowing either. Actually, since he's not on the Council, he probably wouldn't have had a vote anyway...)

And of course later, Jean tells Madelyne that she was actually in support of her resurrection. And like Scott, I don't think she's lying, but I also think both characters are put in a position where they aren't really allowed, narratively, to have any other option.

I suppose I'd feel better about it if Madelyne ever really got to show some kind of...not even redemption per se, but some indication that trusting her isn't a mistake. We have Illyana giving her limbo - which she promptly uses to attack New York and try to force Jean into sharing memories that she's not entitled to (it'd be one thing if she ASKED. But also, no one asks Nathan if he WANTS the woman who tried to sacrifice him to demons to have Jean's memories of raising him.)

She does get some good moments during the Fall, but then there are all the games with Alex (and I'm a little boggled that Lorna was so quick to take him back after that. The Summers men must be utterly amazing in bed. Bred to be subs for a space god, I guess) and well, I guess I just want Maddie to be a character she isn't. I'm glad she's back from the dead, but I'm also glad she's not plaguing my favorites at the moment.

Havok and Cyclops dysfunction part 1

Hellions was a bit of a goldmine for Summers family drama. Alex had a bit of an episode and reverted to his AXIS inversion persona (not sure if that's the right word, but it seems to have triggered ongoing mental health issues, primarily violent disassociation.) He would have killed a bunch of humans if LOGAN didn't stop him.

Scott turns on big brother mode immediately, which is understandable, and the first time we see any hint of him standing against the Quiet Council. It's a little problematic - what makes Alex exempt from the same treatment as any other mutant? Scott implies he'd violently prevent the council from putting him in the pit if he killed people. He's right to object, as this is a complex issue, a health issue. That applies to everyone else in the dock too, though. For now, he's only willing to stand against injustice that affects those he loves nepotistically. Then fucking Sinister speaks up.

It's so very obvious that Sinister is arguing in bad faith. He already has too much power and any proposal giving him power over the vulnerable is indefensible. Everyone here should be aware of how much trauma this piece of shit has inflicted on Scott, Alex, and many more. Alex kinda thinks he deserves it, though he'll waver on that. Everyone on the council knows exactly what Sinister is, and I think not being more proactive with minimising the harm he could cause and making him redundant were massive failures. They need him for his genetic database and they'd prefer to not have him as an enemy, but he was given too much rope.

Sinister's proposal is The Hellions - the problem children of Krakoa sent on missions that reward their antisocial violence. After Greycrow executes Empath for messing with their heads, Havok argues he shouldn't be here. Kwannon disagrees and flags Alex's 'demons' - despite him coping okay with being at ground zero of Summers brother trauma. His 'demons' disagree too.

In a scenario practically designed to destabilise Alex, Maddie Pryor is there effectively utilising girl power. It's hard to tell how much of a factor magic is here but Alex slips into the role of Goblin Prince quickly. Maddie is pissed off - at Krakoa, at Scott, at Jean, at Sinister most of all. Angry at being used and discarded while her tormentor is rewarded, angry that they made a mutant nation for everyone except her. She plans to take Alex's head and throw it at their feet before overrunning Krakoa with an army of demons and cloned Marauders. Sadly, she gets shot, again.

Alex takes her words to heart and advocates for her resurrection. It's not the only reason, but the point is moot because the council votes no. Scott tried as well, though we only have his word to go off. I like to think he would, but he's not very supportive of Alex here. It's a far cry from his willingness to fight the council on his behalf. I guess a soldier will find violence easier than emotional labour. Honestly, it's difficult to tell where Scott is at here. He's incredibly family oriented in other books, but the good times are always easier than the bad times. This tracks with my experience of needing support from people and not getting it.

A good while later, Mastermind traps the Hellions in illusions of their deepest fantasies and desires. Alex's is ... interesting. Fantasy Maddie is nothing like RL Maddie, but she wants him and only him. That he's about to fuck a robot is grimly humorous and a little sad.

That illusion doesn't last, as it was only there to be yanked away and inverted. I'm skeptical that Alex would find this unpleasant, but it says something that fantasy Maddie is pliable and easygoing. 'Nightmare' Maddie has all the power and is an explicit callback to Inferno.

The illusion starts to break down which Alex interprets as Maddie punishing him by leaving. He practically shouts his insecurities and anxieties at Kwannon and Greycrow. They're not judging him, but he's not fooling anyone. Alex isn't scared of being alone and has no thoughts about being a budget Scott Summers. Totally.

Alex still thinks he doesn't belong in the Hellions, and he's right. Nobody does. However, he's ashamed to be associated with them in public. After all they've been through it's a dick move. Orphan Maker and Greycrow are definitely talking about themselves, but their comments fit Alex pretty well too.

This last one isn't really on theme - I just think it's hilarious. She did indeed eat his hands and him apologising for it is perfect.

I didn't really plan to explore Scott and Alex's relationship here, I just started off with Havok scans I found interesting. As I was thinking of a title, some theme that links these moments, it occurred to me that their relationship gets a lot of focus on Krakoa. It's spread out over half a dozen books or so, but that's for part two. They definitely have issues though - oh yes, and being around Sinister doesn't help.

[knifemind]

I need a plushie of this freak.

[stickandthorn]

Hearing the juicy juicy stuff going down in stream, and I gotta say. Besides me loving it. A guy named Braius Doomseed who openly worships the Evil Guy God Who Likes To Lie and Trick People for Evil Reasons. Tricks and lies to the party??? Played by SAM, master of folding an amazing other-shoe-drop that was actually so obvious in hindsight but somehow not expected into a character? Florals? In spring? Groundbreaking.

[snakes-and-fluff]

I don't think there's anything funnier in this world than watching somebody playing a game known for plot twists and reveals, sudden dawning realisation on their face as they stop in the middle of a random scene after a line that has no bearing on the actual big twist to say they have it figured out, only to propose the most insane thing you've ever heard.

And I love it every time.

[chamoemileclown]

i like drawing spoke his design feels like something a middle schooler would come up with