#and I'm not letting the actions of one man

[rootedinrevisions]

All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy

SUMMARY: When a night of playful banter and teasing turns into something far more intimate, you find yourself crossing every line you swore you wouldn't with Jake Seresin - the cocky, infuriatingly charming pilot who's always had a way of getting under your skin. Between stolen kisses, soft confessions, and moments that blur the line between lust and something deeper, it becomes clear that this isn't just a one-time thing. But as Jake's Stetson wearing, sweet talking side leaves you breathless, you'll have to decide if you're ready to risk your heart for the man who's never been one to play it safe.

A/N: This is a combination of my love for Megan Moroney and her song "All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy" as well as a request that I received in November for the prompt "One kiss won't ruin the friendship, right?" and "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Hopefully whoever requested the prompts enjoys this! Thank you all for your patience with me as I write and get through the requests that I have.

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. Smut (PinV. Mentions of biting/marking. Fingering.)

WORD COUNT: 12.4k (I'm ovulating and rewatched TGM a few days ago and fell back in love with Jake. Please don't judge me.)

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

The Hard Deck was alive with the hum of Christmas cheer. Twinkling string lights wrapped around wooden beams, and a small but charmingly crooked Christmas tree stood in the corner, decorated with red ornaments and what looked suspiciously like aviator sunglasses. The jukebox was cycling through a mix of classic rock and Christmas hits, creating an oddly festive but fitting soundtrack for the evening.

You sat at a table near the back, surrounded by familiar faces—your chosen family. Natasha sat to your left, nursing a whiskey sour and laughing at something Bob had just said. Reuben and Mickey were on your right, engaged in a heated debate about the best holiday movies. Bradley leaned back in his chair across from you, his mustache twitching with amusement as he chimed in occasionally, and Javy was at the bar grabbing the next round.

It had been months—maybe a year—since you’d met the Dagger Squad through a mutual friend, but somehow, they had adopted you like one of their own. Now, invites to their gatherings were automatic, and evenings like this one were the norm.

Phoenix nudged your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Alright, enough sitting on the sidelines. We’ve decided it’s time for a little holiday intervention.”

You raised a brow, taking a sip of your drink. “Holiday intervention?”

“You’ve been single for far too long,” she declared, gesturing dramatically with her drink. “It’s time we find you someone.”

Reuben snorted. “This again?”

“Yes, this again,” Phoenix shot back. “I mean, look at her.” She motioned to you with a flourish. “She's smart, funny, gorgeous—”

“Don’t forget stubborn,” Bob added with a grin.

“Exactly,” Phoenix said, unbothered. “We’re not letting you ring in another New Year without at least some action.”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh slipping out despite yourself. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m good, really.”

“Uh-huh,” Natasha said, unconvinced. “You know, we could always ask Jake—”

“Ask me what?” The smooth, teasing drawl interrupted her, and you didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

Jake “Hangman” Seresin strolled up to the table, pool cue slung over one shoulder, that infuriatingly perfect smirk already in place.

Natasha didn’t miss a beat. “We’re trying to set her up with someone. Know any decent guys who are single?”

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe?—passed over Jake’s face before he quickly masked it with an exaggerated scoff.

“Decent guys? Here? Good luck.” He leaned on the back of an empty chair, his green eyes flicking to yours for just a moment before he addressed Natasha again. “Besides, she doesn’t need a setup. She’s clearly too good for anyone in this dump.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, taking a sip of your drink. “Seriously. I don’t need a relationship right now.”

Natasha’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t need or don’t want?”

“Both.” The lie rolled off your tongue easily, but the weight of the unspoken truth settled in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a relationship. You just didn’t want one with anyone who wasn’t Jake Seresin. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Sure,” Natasha drawled, clearly unconvinced. 

“What about that guy over there?” Payback’s girlfriend suggested, nodding toward a tall man leaning against the bar. He was handsome, you supposed, but his eager smile didn’t stir anything in you.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said quickly.

“Okay fine, let’s figure out what you’re looking for. What is your type?” Natasha pressed, leaning in with a grin that told you she wasn’t going to drop this anytime soon.

“I don’t have a type.”

“Everyone has a type,” Mickey chimed in, his tone far too amused for your liking. “Dark hair? Light hair?”

“Light hair,” you muttered before you could stop yourself.

“Tall or short?” Natasha asked, clearly enjoying herself.

“Tall.”

“How tall?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your voice rising slightly in exasperation. “Six feet? Six-one, maybe?”

Natasha grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Anything else? Beard? No beard? Tattoos? Come on, give us something!”

You hesitated, suddenly very aware of Jake still leaning casually nearby, listening to every word. “I don’t know. Tall. Hot. In a Stetson?”

The table burst into laughter, but Jake rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, good luck finding a cowboy here. Closest you’ll get is someone in boots and a flannel at line-dancing night.”

His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, something you couldn’t quite place. Before you could overthink it, Natasha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, he’s not wrong, but maybe you should branch out. Broaden your horizons a little.”

You shook your head, brushing her off with a laugh. “I’m fine, really. No setups needed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phoenix said, clearly not convinced. “We’ll see.”

Jake’s smirk returned as he straightened up, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual before he turned to head back to the pool table.

“Good luck, ladies,” he called over his shoulder.

You watched him go, trying not to let your eyes linger too long. If only they knew the cowboy you wanted wasn’t some hypothetical stranger—it was the one person you couldn’t have. Not that it mattered, you reminded yourself. Jake Seresin didn’t do relationships. And you? You didn’t do casual. It was better this way. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The night carried on, the crowd at The Hard Deck growing as more people trickled in, filling the space with laughter and music. You were mid-conversation with Phoenix and one of the guys' girlfriends, your drink in hand, when the first guy approached.

He wasn’t bad-looking—dark hair, decent smile—but you could tell right away he wasn’t your type. And the way he glanced over at Natasha before walking up only confirmed your suspicions.

“Hey,” he started, a little too confident. “Can I buy you another drink?”

You smiled politely, shaking your head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

He lingered for a second longer than necessary, clearly waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t, he shrugged, muttered something under his breath, and walked away.

The moment he was out of earshot, Phoenix grinned. “What was wrong with that one?”

You gave her a look. “He wasn’t my type.”

“You’ve got to stop using that excuse,” she teased. “We’re just trying to help you out.”

“I don’t need help,” you said firmly, though your tone stayed light. “I’m not looking for anything right now.”

The other woman smirked knowingly. “Sure you’re not.”

Over the next hour, two more guys approached you. Each time, you managed to slip away gracefully, making it clear you weren’t interested without causing a scene. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Natasha—or maybe one of the other girlfriends—was behind it.

By the third attempt, you shot Phoenix a pointed look. “Seriously?”

“What?” she said innocently, but her smile gave her away.

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“It’s because I care,” she said sweetly, raising her glass in mock toast.

Jake chose that moment to stroll over, his timing impeccable as always. “Everything okay over here?”

Phoenix grinned. “Oh, everything’s great. Just trying to find her the perfect man.”

Jake raised a brow, glancing between the two of you. “Perfect man, huh? Sounds like a tall order. I thought we were just going for someone to take her home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, he nodded toward your now-empty glass. “Need a refill?”

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. Just my usual, thanks.”

Jake gave a quick two-finger salute before heading toward the bar.

Phoenix watched him go, her expression unreadable for a moment before she turned back to you, her grin returning. “Wow. Hangman buying you a drink? That’s new.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced.

One of the guys at the table chimed in, smirking. “Yeah, he’s real nice, isn’t he? You know he’s from Texas. Could probably pull off that cowboy look you’ve been fantasizing about.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, rolling your eyes again. “It’s Jake. He’s not trying to get in my pants.”

“That’s what they all say,” Bob joked, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Jake returned a moment later, handing you your drink with a small, knowing smile. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” you said, brushing off the teasing from the others as you took a sip.

You couldn’t help but notice the way Jake’s gaze lingered on you for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he turned back toward the pool table. And despite everything, you couldn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat.

The hours slipped by, the bar gradually thinning out as the night wore on. You’d lost count of how many rounds of pool Jake had won or how many times Phoenix had tried to steer a random guy in your direction. 

Despite it all, you’d actually had fun, laughing and teasing the squad like always. But now, your head felt a little too light, and your body a little too warm from the alcohol.

You glanced at your phone, noting the time. “Alright, I think I’m calling it,” you announced, sliding off your barstool.

Most of the group groaned in protest, but you waved them off. “Some of us have to be functioning humans tomorrow.”

“You sure you’re good?” Natasha asked, her sharp gaze flicking over you like she was scanning for cracks.

“Yeah, yeah,” you assured her, pulling on your jacket. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

But as you turned toward the door, your balance wavered slightly, the ground tilting just enough to make you grab the back of your stool for support. No one else seemed to notice, but Jake did.

You didn’t even realize he’d followed you outside until you felt the cool night air and heard his voice behind you. “You sure you’re good to get home?”

Startled, you turned to face him, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m getting an Uber.”

Jake’s expression darkened slightly, his hands settling on his hips. “An Uber? You’re telling me you’re gonna get into a car with some random guy you don’t know and let him take you home?”

You raised a brow, amused by his sudden concern. “Yes, Jake. That’s how Uber works.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he studied you for a moment, his jaw working like he was turning over a decision in his head. 

“I don’t like it,” he said finally. “Come on, let me drive you home.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a skeptical look. “Please tell me they didn’t convince you to try and ask me out too.”

Jake let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “No. This isn’t a setup. I’m just being your friend.”

You squinted at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. “You sure about that?”

“Promise,” he said, holding up his hands like he was swearing an oath. “Scout’s honor.”

You hesitated, the stubborn part of you tempted to insist you didn’t need help. But the truth was, the idea of being in a car with Jake felt a hell of a lot safer—and less awkward—than riding home with a stranger.

“Alright,” you relented, sighing. “But if this is some elaborate scheme to get me to admit I like you or something, I’m going to be really annoyed.”

Jake grinned, gesturing toward the parking lot. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home before you overthink this to death.”

The drive home was quiet at first, Jake’s truck rumbling softly as it cut through the stillness of the night. You leaned back in the passenger seat, the cool air from the open window doing wonders to clear your head. Jake glanced at you occasionally, his hands loose on the wheel but his focus unwavering.

“You gonna tell me what that was all about back there?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, your brows furrowing. “What what was all about?”

“Natasha and the girls,” he clarified. “Trying to set you up like it’s a speed dating event.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back against the seat. “Oh, that. Yeah, I don’t know what got into them. They’re convinced I’ve been single for too long.”

Jake smirked. “And what? You just let them keep at it?”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” you said with a laugh. “Trust me, I tried shutting it down, but Nat can be very persuasive. Plus, I think she roped in some of the girlfriends for backup.”

He nodded, his gaze flicking between you and the road. “So... are you looking?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. “Looking?”

“For someone,” he said casually, though there was a hint of something else in his tone—curiosity, maybe.

You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Not really,” you admitted. “I mean, it’s not that I’m against the idea, but I’m not actively looking for anyone either. And definitely not the way they’re going about it.”

Jake chuckled, his smile pulling up on one side. “Fair enough.”

He was quiet for a moment, the hum of the truck filling the space between you. Then, almost hesitantly, he said, “You know, I think Coyote might know a guy on one of the boats—he’s from Kansas or something. Probably got that farmer-cowboy look you’re into.”

You couldn’t help but smile, his attempt at helpfulness both endearing and a little amusing. “That’s sweet, Jake, but I really don’t think I’m looking for a farmer or a cowboy—or anyone, for that matter.”

Jake glanced at you briefly, his lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

“Why’d you bring it up, then?” you asked, tilting your head to study him.

He shrugged, his eyes on the road. “Just thought you might like to know your options.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, your smile lingering. “But I think I’m okay with where I am right now. I'll find someone eventually.”

Jake nodded, the conversation settling into a comfortable lull as he turned onto your street.

The glow of the streetlights flickered against the windows of Jake’s truck as he slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building. You unbuckled your seatbelt, your phone buzzing against your thigh just as you reached for the door handle.

Pulling it out, you glanced at the screen. A message from your roommate lit up the display: Just a heads-up—I’ve got company tonight. Might want to keep the earbuds handy 😉

You groaned audibly, letting your head fall back against the seat with a dramatic thud.

Jake shot you a curious glance, his brow lifting. “What’s wrong?”

You waved your phone in his direction with a weary sigh. “Roommate’s got a guy over. And from the sound of it, I’m going to need noise-canceling headphones or a place to sleep that isn’t directly next to her room.”

Jake chuckled, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “Sounds like it’s going to be a rough night for you, huh?”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, reaching for the door again.

Before you could hop out, Jake’s voice stopped you. “You don’t have to go in, you know.”

You turned to him, your hand frozen on the handle. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, his gaze soft but steady as it met yours. “I mean, if you don’t feel like dealing with... that,” he gestured vaguely toward your phone, “you can come crash at my place. It’s quiet, and I’ve got a couch you can take over if you’re not ready to head home yet.”

You hesitated, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your phone. Spending more time with Jake wasn’t exactly going to help your unspoken crush, but the alternative—trying to sleep through your roommate’s extracurricular activities—was far less appealing.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with doubt. “I don’t want to impose or anything.”

Jake rolled his eyes, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. “You wouldn’t be. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer through that?”

The word friend grounded you, loosening the knot of uncertainty in your chest. You smiled softly, nodding your agreement. “Alright, Seresin. But if you don’t have coffee in the morning, I’m going to rethink our so-called friendship.”

Jake laughed, the sound warm and low as he shifted the truck back into drive. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll even make you breakfast if you’re lucky.”

Jake unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped aside to let you in first. The place was clean but lived-in—soft lighting, a comfortable couch, a TV mounted on the wall, and just a few hints of his personality scattered throughout: a Navy ball cap tossed on the entryway table, framed photos of his family, and what looked like a pair of cowboy boots sitting by the door.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, flicking on the lights and heading toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

You nodded, shrugging off your jacket and folding it over the back of a chair before settling onto the couch. “Thanks, Jake.”

He returned a moment later, two beers in hand. Passing one to you, he dropped onto the couch beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him. You took a sip, the cold drink soothing against the warmth still lingering on your cheeks from the night’s events.

Jake leaned back, his arm casually draping over the back of the couch. “So,” he started, his tone playful, “what was that whole ‘tall, hot, in a Stetson’ thing earlier really about? Got a cowboy crush I don’t know about?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s just a preference.”

He tilted his head, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Uh-huh. You sure about that? Because it kind of sounded like you were describing someone I know.”

Your brow furrowed as you turned to look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Tall? Blonde? Hot? I mean, you might as well have just said my name.”

You rolled your eyes, but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Oh, please. You’re so full of yourself, Seresin.”

Jake’s gaze flicked to your face, his sharp eyes catching the faint blush blooming across your cheeks. His grin softened into something more thoughtful. “Wait a second,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not,” you said quickly, shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.

“Oh, you definitely are,” he teased, his voice low and amused. “Tell me—do you have a little crush on me?”

You scoffed, your heart racing as you tried to deflect. “What are we, in middle school?”

Jake chuckled, but his expression didn’t shift. He studied you for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes fading into something quieter, more serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could come up with a denial, Jake leaned in closer, the space between you narrowing. His lips hovered close to yours, close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting against your skin.

“Jake,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest, “what are you doing?”

His eyes locked with yours, intense and unwavering. “I’m kissing you,” he said, his voice low and steady, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Unless you tell me to stop.”

“Jake…we…we can’t.”

“You know,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, “one kiss probably won’t ruin the friendship, right?”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t move away. Instead, you sat there, frozen as the space between you vanished. When his lips finally touched yours, it was soft at first—almost tentative, like he was giving you the chance to change your mind.

But you didn’t.

Jake’s hand came up, his fingers brushing along your jaw before cupping your face. His touch was firm yet gentle, anchoring you in place as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours, confident and unhurried, like he’d been waiting for this moment and was determined to savor every second of it.

Your hand found its way to his chest, the firm muscle beneath his shirt making your pulse race even faster. You felt him exhale, a soft, pleased sound escaping him as your fingers curled into the fabric. Without even thinking, you shifted closer, your body leaning into his as the kiss grew more heated.

Jake pulled back for the briefest moment, just enough to catch his breath, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he looked at you. His eyes were darker now, filled with something that made your stomach flip. 

“You’re killing me, darlin’,” he murmured, his Texas drawl thicker than usual.

You didn’t give yourself time to overthink it. Fueled by a mixture of nerves and adrenaline, you swung a leg over his, settling yourself onto his lap. Jake froze for half a heartbeat before his hands found your waist, his grip firm and grounding.

You reached up, your fingers threading your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, your nails grazing lightly against his scalp as you leaned in and kissed him again. Jake groaned softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss turned fervent, all soft restraint melting away as your bodies pressed together. Jake’s lips were hot and insistent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he tilted his head, deepening the kiss further. Your fingers fisted in his hair, his skin warm beneath your touch as his hands began to roam, sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you securely in his lap.

Your heart was racing, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him, the way he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough. Every brush of his lips, every press of his hands against you, made you feel like you were burning from the inside out.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, Jake’s forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. His hands stayed on your hips, his thumbs brushing idly against the fabric of your shirt. 

You then reached down and started to tug at the hem of your shirt, but he reach out and caught your wrists, halting you.

“Whoa, hold up,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You pulled back slightly, confused, your gaze searching his. His hands stayed on your wrists, gentle but unyielding. 

“What?” you asked, blinking at him as your pulse raced.

Jake’s lips twitched into a small smile, but his expression was serious. “I’m not doing this. Not yet.”

You frowned, sitting back on his lap, your legs still straddling him. “You’re not doing what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “I want to buy you dinner first.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “Dinner? Like a date?”

Jake nodded, his hands resting lightly on your hips now.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did, you couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that escaped you. “Jake, you don’t do dates. Or dinners. Or follow any kind of rules when it comes to sleeping with women. What’s changed.”

Jake chuckled, but there was a sincerity in his gaze that made your stomach flutter. “You’re not just some hookup for me,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I want to do this right with you.”

Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. You weren’t used to seeing Jake like this—so earnest, so serious. The guy who flirted shamelessly, who rarely stuck around for more than a night, was now telling you he wanted to take you on a proper date before anything happened between you.

“You know,” you said after a beat, your tone teasing but your heart pounding, “you did technically buy me a round earlier at the bar.”

Jake shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Nice try, darlin’. A beer doesn’t count as dinner.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms over your chest. “Jake, it’s late. It’s literally Christmas Eve. Nowhere that you would deem worthy of our first date is going to be open.”

Jake laughed, his hands still resting on your hips. “Guess we’ll have to wait then.”

“Or,” you said, sitting up straighter, an idea forming in your mind, “you can give me your phone.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” you said, holding out your hand.

He hesitated for a moment before sighing and reaching into his pocket to hand it over. You unlocked the screen, your fingers moving quickly as you opened the Uber Eats app.

Jake leaned forward slightly, peering over your shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Ordering dinner,” you said simply, scrolling through the options for one of the few places still open this late on Christmas Eve.

Jake watched as you added something to the cart, then handed the phone back to him. “Go ahead, pick something for yourself.”

Still looking slightly bewildered, Jake glanced down at the screen, his brow furrowing as he scanned the menu. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, smirking at him. 

Jake sighed, clearly still confused, but he added an item to the order and placed it. As soon as the confirmation screen popped up, he turned to you, shaking his head. “All right, now you’ve got to tell me—what was the point of all that?”

You grinned, leaning forward slightly so your face was inches from his. “Because now you’ve technically bought me dinner,” you said, your tone teasing but your eyes locked on his.

Jake stared at you for a moment, then threw his head back with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “But now that you’ve fulfilled your ‘dinner first’ rule, are you going to fuck me or not?”

Jake’s laughter died down, replaced by a look that made your stomach flip. His hands tightened slightly on your hips as his gaze darkened, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “But if we’re doing this, darlin’, we’re doing it my way.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him curiously. “Your way, huh?” you teased, the corner of your lips quirking up. “And what exactly does your way mean?”

Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his hands tightened on your hips, and before you could even process what was happening, he stood up with you still straddling his lap.

“Jake!” you yelped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance as he stood effortlessly, holding you against him like you weighed nothing.

He grinned down at you, completely unfazed by your reaction, and started walking down the hallway. “First rule,” he drawled, his voice low and steady, “your first time with me is not going to be on my couch.”

You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as his words sank in. “Oh,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he carried you with ease, the hallway narrowing around you. “You deserve better than that, darlin’,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “So, my way means I’m going to take my time with you. Do it right, starting with getting you on a bed.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. The way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was enough to leave you breathless.

When he reached the door at the end of the hall, Jake shifted you slightly in his arms so he could turn the handle, nudging the door open with his foot. The room beyond was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the space.

Jake stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him with a soft thud. He finally set you down, your feet touching the plush carpet, but his hands didn’t leave your waist.

You glanced around, your nerves and excitement battling for dominance. “So…what’s the second rule?” you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably as your voice wavered.

Jake’s lips quirked into a smirk as he leaned down, his face so close to yours that his breath fanned across your skin. 

“The second rule,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, “is that I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of this.”

Your breath hitched, your hands sliding up his chest almost instinctively. “That’s…a pretty good rule,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s smirk widened as his hands slid from your waist to your hips, pulling you flush against him. “Good,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes dark with intent. “Because I don’t break my own rules.”

With that, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the heated kisses you’d shared earlier. His hands roamed your back, his touch firm but careful, like he was savoring every moment.

You melted into him, your arms looping around his neck as the kiss deepened. His tongue slid against yours, drawing a soft whimper from you that only seemed to spur him on.

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist. But instead of rushing to remove it quickly, he took his time, his touch reverent as he pushed the fabric up inch by inch.

You broke the kiss for just a moment, your breath coming in soft pants as you let him pull your shirt over your head. His gaze raked over you, his eyes darkening as he took you in.

“Goddamn,” Jake murmured, his voice husky. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, but before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you closer.

Jake’s lips broke away from yours, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. Slowly, he trailed his kisses along your jaw, the gentle scrape of his stubble sending shivers down your spine. His lips moved lower, finding the sensitive curve of your neck.

At first, the kisses were light, teasing. But then he began sucking and biting softly, testing different spots until he hit the one that made your head fall back with a soft gasp, your fingers tightening in the hair at the nape of his neck.

The sound you made—the small, unrestrained moan that escaped your lips—had Jake pausing for the briefest moment before he let out a low groan of his own, his mouth returning to the same spot with renewed focus. This time, he nipped a little harder, drawing another reaction out of you.

“Jake,” you warned softly, your breath hitching as you tugged at his hair. “Don’t leave a mark.”

You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your neck. 

“Why not?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his teeth grazed your skin. Before you could answer, he added in a quiet whisper, “I kinda like the idea of everyone knowing you’re my girl.”

That pulled your head up, and you gave him a look, arching a brow. “Your girl, huh?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat, his green eyes locking onto yours as he leaned in close, his lips brushing just below your ear. “My girl,” he repeated, his voice filled with a confidence that made your heart race.

You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was back on your skin, moving lower this time. He kissed along your collarbone, his lips pressing against every inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

When he reached the strap of your bra, his fingers deftly reached around your back. With a practiced ease that had you smirking slightly, he unclasped it. He pulled back just enough to slide the straps down your arms, his hands warm and firm against your skin as he discarded the lacey fabric to the floor.

Jake’s gaze dropped, and his lips parted slightly as his eyes roamed over you. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression somewhere between awe and hunger. Then, a slow grin spread across his face.

“This is what you wore to the bar?” he asked, his voice playful but edged with disbelief.

You blushed, rolling your eyes even as you smiled. “It’s laundry day,” you mumbled. “All the comfy stuff was in the wash.”

Jake chuckled, his hands sliding up your sides to rest just below your chest. “Laundry day, huh?” 

“Yes, why? Do you have a problem with my choice of undergarments?”

“Not exactly,” he teased, his grin widening. “But that…is way too sexy for just a casual night out with friends.”

His thumb brushed just below the curve of your breast, sending a spark of warmth straight through you.

You rolled your eyes again, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “It’s just a bra, Jake,” you muttered, though your voice wavered slightly.

He didn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, he leaned forward, his mouth finding the soft skin of your chest. His lips were warm and gentle, kissing along the swell of your breast before his tongue flicked against your skin.

Your breath hitched, and Jake’s hands shifted to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continued. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your skin, his lips and tongue working in tandem to explore every inch. When he finally reached your nipple, his mouth closed around it, drawing a soft moan from you that only seemed to spur him on.

His hands tightened on your hips as his other hand slid up, cupping your other breast and giving it the same attention. Jake groaned softly against your skin, clearly enjoying himself, and the sound sent a shiver through you.

Jake pulled back for a moment, just enough to glance up at you with a wicked grin. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he teased, his voice low and rough. “Didn’t know you were hiding these under all those sweaters and jackets.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers sliding into his hair. “Shut up, Jake,” you muttered, pulling him back to you.

He laughed softly but didn’t argue, his mouth returning to your chest with renewed enthusiasm. Jake Seresin might have had a reputation for being cocky and playful, but in this moment, he was focused, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Jake's lips were still warm against your skin, his tongue flicking over the same sensitive spot on your chest that had you squirming against him, when a sudden thought crossed your mind. You realized how uneven the situation was—your bra was already on the floor, and yet here he was, still fully dressed.

Not one to let such an imbalance slide, you tugged at the hem of his shirt. Jake pulled back, his green eyes flicking to yours in question, his mouth curving into a smug smile when he caught on.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond, simply giving the fabric another tug. Jake let out a quiet laugh, sitting up slightly so he could pull the shirt over his head. The movement was so fluid, so effortless, that it was almost infuriating. And when he tossed the shirt aside, your mouth went dry.

Your eyes trailed over him slowly, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the defined lines of his abs, and the way his skin seemed to glow under the dim light of his apartment. You’d known Jake Seresin was fit—anyone could tell just by looking at him—but this? This was something else entirely.

Your hands moved instinctively, sliding over the hard planes of his chest, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips making your pulse race. You traced the subtle curve of his muscles, your thumb brushing over a faint scar just below his collarbone, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

Jake caught the sound, his brow lifting as he smirked. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”

You shook your head, trying to find the words but failing. Instead, you blurted, “You’re not real.”

That caught him off guard, and he chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “Not real, huh?”

You gestured vaguely at him, your hands hovering just above his abs. “Nobody looks like this in real life. I mean… how? Do you, like, live in the gym or something?”

Jake laughed again, clearly amused by your reaction. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your thighs as he regarded you with a playful gleam in his eyes. “It’s all just good genetics, sweetheart,” he drawled, his smirk widening. “But if you wanna keep admiring, don’t let me stop you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Cocky,” you muttered, though your hands betrayed you by continuing their exploration, tracing the ridges of his muscles like you were committing them to memory.

“Confident,” Jake corrected, leaning forward again so that his face was just inches from yours. “And besides…” His lips brushed lightly against your jaw, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You’re not exactly keeping your hands to yourself, darlin’.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your blush deepening as his teasing smirk only grew wider. His confidence was maddening, but it also sent a rush of heat through you that you couldn’t ignore. Finally, you huffed and muttered, “You talk too much.”

Jake tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more mischievous. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

Without missing a beat, you leaned in close, your breath brushing against his lips as you whispered, “Shut up and kiss me, Seresin.”

His eyes darkened at your words, the playful light in them replaced with something deeper, hungrier. He didn’t hesitate. His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck as he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours.

His hand at your neck tilted your head just enough to deepen the kiss, while his other hand tightened its grip on your waist, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest and over his shoulders, your fingers tangling in the short hair at the back of his head. When he nipped at your bottom lip, your soft gasp gave him the perfect opening, and his tongue swept into your mouth, stealing whatever clever retort you might have had.

Jake broke the kiss just long enough to guide you backward. His strong hands shifted to your hips as he maneuvered you gently, lowering you onto the bed as if you weighed nothing. His lips found yours again before your head even hit the pillow, his body following as he braced himself over you, one forearm resting beside your head while his other hand remained at your waist.

The bed dipped slightly under your combined weight, and you felt the cool sheets against your back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you and Jake. His kisses grew slower, deeper, his mouth moving over yours in a way that made your toes curl. His free hand slid up your side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as it found your cheek, tilting your face toward his for better access.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—all you could do was feel. The warmth of his body, the intoxicating way he kissed you, the steady weight of him pressing you into the mattress—it was overwhelming in the best way.

Jake finally pulled back, just enough to look down at you, his lips red and swollen, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His gaze was molten as it roamed over your face, lingering on your kiss-bruised lips before meeting your eyes.

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, and his lips quirked into a softer, almost reverent smile. “You know that?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared up at him, the sincerity in his expression taking your breath away all over again. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a whisper. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Jake’s lips hovered above yours, his breath warm against your skin, but his hands began to move, dragging your focus away from the way his mouth made you feel and to the steady path his fingers were tracing. They slid down your sides with a deliberate slowness, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hips before they stopped at the waistband of your jeans.

He shifted back just slightly, his hands working to pop the button open and tug the zipper down. His green eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the spark of mischief in them sent a jolt of anticipation straight through you. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

You did as he asked, and he made quick work of guiding your jeans down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that left goosebumps in their wake. The denim hit the floor, and Jake’s gaze swept over you, lingering when he noticed the lacy underwear that matched the bra he’d already discarded.

A slow smirk spread across his face, the kind that made your stomach flip and your cheeks flush. “Now this,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature cockiness, “is a sight I could get used to.”

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, and with one smooth motion, he slid them down your legs and discarded them on the floor beside your jeans. His hands returned to your thighs, his touch featherlight as he traced patterns over your skin. 

“From now on,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of your knee, “you only wear these for me. Got it?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the sheer audacity of the man in front of you. “And what makes you think this will be more than a one-time thing,” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Jake didn’t even blink at your question. Instead, he leaned back slightly, resting his weight on his knees as his hands slid higher up your thighs. “Because you don’t do casual,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. His hands stilled just shy of where you wanted them, his thumbs brushing agonizingly close to the heat pooling between your legs. “You don’t do one-night hookups.”

His words were confident, but then that cocky grin returned, and he leaned down just enough that his lips hovered above your skin. His thumb trailed teasingly over your inner thigh, not quite touching you where you needed him most, and it was maddening.

“And because,” he continued, his voice low and teasing, “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already trying to get more.” His thumb brushed a little closer this time, still not quite enough, and the sharp intake of breath you let out didn’t escape his notice.

Your hips tilted up instinctively, desperate for more contact, but Jake pulled his hand back just slightly, his grin widening as he caught your movement.

“See what I mean?” he teased, his voice dripping with that infuriating self-assurance. “One night’s not gonna be enough for you, sweetheart. You won’t be able to get enough of me.”

Jake’s smirk deepened as he continued his slow, agonizing teasing, his fingers dancing closer and closer to where you needed him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he drawled, his green eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned down to press a kiss to the curve of your hip. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Your head fell back against the pillows, a frustrated groan slipping from your lips. You felt like you were about to combust, every nerve ending on fire as Jake toyed with you like it was some kind of game. The worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Jake,” you started, your voice laced with exasperation as you lifted your head to glare at him. “I swear to God—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his fingers finally moved, pressing against you in just the right spot. The sudden surge of pleasure ripped the words right from your throat, replacing them with a sharp, breathy moan that had Jake’s grin widening in satisfaction.

“That’s more like it,” he murmured, his voice low and smug as his fingers began working in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing another soft sound from your lips. “Knew you’d sound pretty, but damn, sweetheart, I didn’t think you’d sound this good.”

Your hands fisted the sheets beside you, your back arching slightly off the bed as the pressure built, wave after wave crashing over you with every precise movement of his hand. “Jake…” His name came out like a plea, your voice trembling as you tried to catch your breath.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I’ve got you, darlin’. Just let me take care of you.”

His free hand slid up your side, his thumb brushing along your ribs in a soothing gesture that contrasted sharply with the fire he was setting off with every calculated touch. Your hips tilted toward him, desperate for more, and Jake was quick to oblige, his fingers pressing harder, moving faster, drawing out the kind of pleasure that had your head spinning and your thoughts unraveling.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Jake shifted slightly, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was every bit as intoxicating as the way his hands worked your body. It was messy and consuming, his tongue brushing against yours in a rhythm that matched the movements of his fingers, as if he was determined to pull every last sound from your lips.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, your forehead pressed against his, your fingers gripping his biceps for support. He didn’t stop, though, his lips trailing down your jaw, over your neck, and back to the spot on your collarbone that had you shivering.

“You doing okay there, sweetheart?” he teased, his breath warm against your skin as he chuckled softly. “Seem a little… speechless.”

Jake’s fingers slowed just enough to pull you back from the edge, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, and you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, his lips were at your ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. “Have you ever thought about this before? About me? About my hands on you like this?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you could feel your face heat, your body betraying you as a rush of arousal coursed through you. Of course, you’d thought about it. You’d thought about it far more times than you cared to admit, in moments you’d never expected and in ways that had left you wondering what it would feel like to have Jake Seresin in this exact position.

But you weren’t about to tell him that.

“No,” you managed to say, though the breathiness of your voice betrayed your attempt at indifference.

Jake chuckled low, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed a kiss just below your ear. His fingers started moving again, slow and deliberate, building that fire inside you all over again. “Liar,” he whispered, his tone dripping with confidence.

Your breath hitched as his hand worked you over with maddening precision, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I think you’ve thought about this a lot,” he continued, his voice soft but insistent, like a secret he was unraveling. “About me touching you like this. About me kissing you. About me making you fall apart.”

Your hips bucked against his hand involuntarily, a quiet gasp slipping from your lips. Jake’s smirk was audible in his next words. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

“Jake…” you warned, though the word lacked any real heat, your voice shaking as he pushed you closer to the edge again.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice still low and intimate, as if the moment was just for the two of you. “Tell me the truth. You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but your body told a different story, arching into his touch, chasing the release he kept pulling just out of reach.

“Still not talking, huh?” he teased, his lips ghosting over your neck. “That’s okay. I think I already know the answer.”

You let out a frustrated groan, your head falling back against the pillow as Jake’s fingers slowed again, denying you the release you so desperately craved.

“Jake, I swear to God—”

“Say the word,” he whispered, his voice dark and tempting. “Say you want this. Say you want me.”

Your resolve crumbled under the weight of his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the teasing rhythm of his fingers sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You couldn’t take it anymore, the denial of release driving you mad.

“Fine,” you blurted out, your voice a mix of desperation and surrender. “I’ve thought about it. About you. Happy now?”

Jake froze for a moment, his smirk widening as he absorbed your confession, his ego clearly basking in your words. “Damn right I am,” he drawled, his tone as smug as ever. His fingers picked up their pace again, but this time with a newfound determination, his touch deliberate and calculated as he pushed you closer to the edge once more.

“Have you thought about my hands doing this?” he murmured, shifting his hand ever so slightly, his movements slow and precise as he watched your reaction.

Your body arched involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping your lips. You couldn’t lie even if you wanted to.

He chuckled, his lips brushing against your neck as he continued. “Or maybe this?” He changed the angle of his touch again, his fingers finding just the right spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Jake,” you panted, your voice trembling with need, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he pressed, his tone both teasing and possessive. 

“How many nights have you thought about this? About me making you feel this good?”

You let out a whimper, the pressure inside you building to an unbearable intensity. “Please, Jake,” you finally begged, your voice cracking as you tilted your hips toward his hand, desperate for the release he was holding just out of reach.

“Please, what?” he whispered, his voice dark and enticing.

“Please, just—”

Before you could finish, he gave you exactly what you needed, his fingers working you over with perfect precision, sending you hurtling over the edge. A cry tore from your lips as the tension snapped, your body trembling under the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

Jake didn’t stop, his hand staying steady as he guided you through your release, murmuring soft praises in your ear.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing replaced with something more intimate, more sincere. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Your hands clutched at him as you rode out the high, your breathing ragged and uneven as he slowed his movements, easing you back down. His free hand caressed your side, grounding you as you came back to yourself.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

As the intensity slowly ebbed away, you opened your eyes to find Jake watching you. The cocky smirk you'd expected wasn’t there—instead, he was looking at you with something softer, something that made your chest tighten. His hand brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch lingering for just a moment before pulling back. He gave you a small, almost shy smile, one that you’d never seen before.

“What?” you asked nervously, returning the smile as your heart pounded for an entirely different reason now.

Jake shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting into something more tender than teasing. “You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

You blinked at him, caught completely off guard. He wasn’t grinning or smirking or full of his usual bravado—he was just Jake, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room.

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you didn’t know what to say. “Oh,” you whispered, your voice soft as his words settled over you.

The moment stretched between you, and for the first time, Jake looked away, almost as if realizing how vulnerable he’d made himself. But instead of pulling back, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, a gesture so tender it made your chest ache.

“Let’s get you some water,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. But as he moved to stand, his fingers brushed yours, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter all over again.

And at that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just some casual hookup with him. You weren’t sure what it was yet, but it was more.

Jake disappeared into the walk in closet, leaving you alone in his bedroom for a moment. When he returned, he had one of his shirts in hand—soft, worn, and smelling distinctly like him. He tossed it to you with a crooked smile.

“Figured you’d be more comfortable in this,” he said before turning toward the door, giving you a bit of privacy to change.

Once you slipped into the oversized shirt, you padded out to find him in the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and handed it to you as you approached.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a long sip.

Jake nodded toward the couch. “Come on. Sit with me.”

You followed him over, sinking into the cushion next to him, leaving a respectable amount of space between you. Jake glanced at the gap and raised an eyebrow, smirking just slightly.

“You scared of me now or something?” he teased, his voice soft but warm.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could come up with a response, Jake reached over and tugged gently at your hand, coaxing you closer. “C’mere,” he said, his tone so inviting you didn’t think to resist.

You shifted over until your thigh brushed against his, and Jake draped an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder. He didn’t push for more, didn’t try to crowd you—he just held you there, close enough to feel his warmth.

“You good?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, leaning slightly into him. “Yeah. I’m good.”

For a while, neither of you said anything. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the occasional creak of the couch as you both shifted to get more comfortable. Eventually, you rested your head against Jake’s shoulder, and you could feel him relax beneath you, the tension in his body melting away.

This—whatever this was—felt easy. And for now, you were content to let it be.

The silence between you settled into something soft, the kind of quiet where you could hear your own thoughts but didn’t mind sharing the space with someone else. Jake absentmindedly brushed his fingers along your arm, his touch light, comforting.

But then the thought hit you, and you started to feel a twinge of guilt. Jake had gone out of his way to make sure you felt incredible, but you hadn’t done the same for him. The realization sat heavily in your chest, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you shifted slightly, sitting up to look at him.

"Hey," you said, your voice quieter than you expected.

Jake tilted his head toward you, the corners of his lips quirking up. "What’s on your mind, darlin’?"

You hesitated, chewing your bottom lip for a second. "I just... I feel bad. You—you got me to, you know, but I didn’t—"

Jake’s low laugh cut you off, his head tipping back for a moment before he looked at you again, his eyes warm and amused. "You feel bad about that?"

"Well... yeah," you admitted, your cheeks heating. You glanced away, feeling the awkwardness creep in. "I mean, do you... want me to...?" You trailed off, unable to meet his gaze.

Jake reached over and gently tipped your chin up so you had to look at him. His expression wasn’t teasing this time, but soft, almost tender.

"I don’t need you to do anything," he said, his voice steady. "Tonight was about you. I wanted to make sure you felt good. That’s enough for me."

You blinked, a little thrown by how sincere he sounded. "Really?"

He nodded, leaning back and letting his arm settle across your shoulders again. "Really," he said, the hint of a smile still tugging at his lips. "But I appreciate the offer. Makes me feel pretty special."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that broke through. "You’re impossible."

"Yeah, but you like me anyway," he quipped, his grin widening as you shook your head and settled back against his shoulder.

The room fell into a quiet lull, the kind that was filled with comfort rather than awkwardness. Jake’s arm rested across your shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing circles along your arm. You let your head rest against him, but the words you’d been mulling over stuck in your throat.

Finally, you worked up the courage to look up at him, your voice soft, almost hesitant. "Jake?"

"Hmm?" He turned his head slightly, his green eyes meeting yours.

"Can I..." You paused, nervousness creeping in, but you pushed forward. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Jake’s grin spread across his face almost immediately, cocky but somehow still sweet. "Where else would you sleep?"

You shrugged, suddenly feeling shy under the weight of his gaze. "I don’t know. The couch maybe..."

Before you could finish the thought, Jake leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and warm, pulling you right back into the ease of being with him. When he pulled away, his grin had softened into something tender, something that made your heart skip a beat.

"You can sleep with me every night," he murmured, his fingers brushing another stray piece of hair from your face.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you just smiled, leaning into him as his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer. In that moment, the thought of waking up next to Jake every morning didn’t feel so crazy after all.

* * * *

The morning light streamed through the blinds, coaxing you awake. Your head throbbed faintly—a mild reminder of the last beer you probably shouldn’t have had. Blinking against the sunlight, you looked around, disoriented for a moment. This wasn’t your apartment.

And then it all came back. Last night. Jake bringing you home. The teasing, the kissing, the way he had pulled you close and told you that you could sleep with him every night. The memories brought a mix of warmth and guilt as you realized just how many lines of friendship you had crossed in a single evening.

Sitting up, you glanced over at the other side of the bed, half expecting Jake to still be there. But his side was empty, the covers slightly rumpled. You pushed them off and padded out of the bedroom, your bare feet cold against the hardwood.

As you stepped into the living room, you froze in place, utterly speechless at the sight before you.

Jake was lying on the floor, one arm propped up to support his head, his body stretched out lazily. He was barefoot, in jeans that fit a little too well, no shirt, and a Stetson cowboy hat perched on his head.

Your mouth opened, then closed, your brain short-circuiting. You weren’t sure whether to laugh, blush, or scold him for how ridiculous he looked—and how ridiculously good he looked at the same time.

“What,” you finally managed, “are you doing?”

Jake’s lips curved into that signature smirk of his, the one that always got him into trouble and, apparently, you as well. “What does it look like? Tall, hot, in a Stetson. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Your jaw dropped as you remembered your flippant comment from the night before, and a laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it. “Are you serious right now?”

He stood up in one smooth motion, the hat still perfectly in place as he strolled toward you. “I’m Texan, darlin’. Born and raised. Owning a Stetson is a right of passage.”

You shook your head, laughing harder now as he stopped in front of you. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned down, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Ridiculous enough to make you laugh this hard first thing in the morning?”

“Yeah, well…” You tried to form a witty comeback, but the way he was looking at you—half playful, half something much softer—made your words catch in your throat.

Jake’s smirk softened into a smile as he tilted his head closer. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, before leaning in to kiss you.

And just like that, the absurdity of the morning melted away, leaving only the feel of his lips on yours and the flutter in your chest that you weren’t quite ready to name.

Jake’s hands slid to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your knees weak, and you swore you felt his smirk against your mouth when your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders for balance.

Without breaking the kiss, Jake’s fingers tightened slightly on your hips, and he murmured, “Jump.”

You hesitated for only a fraction of a second before doing as he asked. His hands were steady as they guided you, and your legs wrapped around his waist naturally. He held you effortlessly, the warmth of his skin against your thighs making your breath hitch.

“You’re way too good at this,” you whispered against his lips, your voice teasing but a little breathless.

Jake pulled back just enough to flash you that cocky grin you knew all too well. “Darlin’, I was born good at this.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. Then, just like that, he was moving, carrying you down the hallway as though you weighed nothing.

The hat was still perched on his head, slightly tilted from your movements, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You’re seriously keeping the hat on?”

He glanced at you with a raised brow, that grin still firmly in place. “You said tall, hot, in a Stetson. I’m just giving the lady what she wants.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, but your words were swallowed by another kiss as he carried you into the bedroom.

Jake lowered you onto the bed with care, the playful edge giving way to something more deliberate, more intense, as he hovered over you. His green eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the room felt still, the air between you charged with something electric.

“Guess that makes me your cowboy now,” he said softly, his voice low and teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity there that made your chest tighten.

And before you could respond, his lips were back on yours, and nothing else mattered.

Jake kissed you with a hunger that sent a spark straight through you. His hands slid up your thighs, the warmth of his palms setting fire to your skin as he pressed you into the mattress. The Stetson, still sitting askew on his head, was the perfect blend of ridiculous and sexy, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing softly against his lips.

“What’s so funny, darlin’?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach flip.

You reached up, plucking the hat off his head, and twirled it in your fingers with a smirk. “Just trying to decide if this thing makes you hotter… or if it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jake chuckled, pulling back slightly, his weight still braced above you. “Go on then, put it on. Let’s see if you can pull it off.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully, accepting the challenge. Sliding the Stetson onto your head, you tilted it just slightly, giving him a mock-serious look. “How do I look?”

Jake’s gaze darkened instantly, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Like trouble,” he drawled.

The heat in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Emboldened by the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted—you took a deep breath and gave his chest a small push. Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but he rolled to his back without protest, his hands guiding you along with him until you were straddling his hips.

His smirk grew as he settled beneath you, his hands resting on your waist. “This what you had in mind?” he asked, his tone a teasing challenge.

You didn’t give him time to comment further before you rolled your hips slowly, teasing him. You reached down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt that you had slept in and quickly slid it off, leaving you completely bare. You reach for the hat that had been knocked off and carefully placed it back on your head.

Jake groaned, his head falling back for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, darlin’.”

“Am I?” you teased, leaning forward just enough that the brim of the hat shadowed your face, leaving him staring up at you like you’d stolen all the air from his lungs.

Jake’s hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your ribs as he guided your movements. “You’re wearin’ nothin’ but my hat and lookin’ like that,” he muttered, his voice low and ragged.

You laughed softly, but your amusement quickly faded as the heat between you grew. The way his hands moved over you—possessive yet gentle—was making it impossible to keep the pace slow.

As you shifted and leaned forward again, Jake reached up, tipping the brim of the hat slightly. “You’re somethin’ else,” he said softly, his green eyes locked on yours.

For once, the cockiness was gone from his voice, replaced with a raw honesty that left you breathless. You didn’t respond, couldn’t, as you captured his lips again and let the heat between you consume every other thought.

The heat between your bodies was electric, every touch and movement sending sparks skittering across your skin. You shifted slightly, lifting your hips just enough to position yourself over him. Jake’s breath hitched, and his hands instinctively gripped your thighs, steadying you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Your eyes locked with his, and the teasing glint in his green gaze had softened into something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he let his hands glide up your sides, the warmth of his palms grounding you as you slowly sank down onto him.

A shuddered groan escaped Jake’s lips, and you couldn’t hold back the small gasp that left yours. The sensation was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just physical—it was the way he looked at you, like you were something precious, something he wanted to memorize with every touch.

Jake sat up slightly, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as your breaths mingled. For a moment, neither of you moved. The intimacy of it, the closeness, was almost too much to bear. His thumbs traced small circles against your skin, grounding you in the moment.

When you finally began to move, it was slow, deliberate, like the two of you were trying to savor every second. Jake’s lips found yours, and the kiss was anything but hurried. It was deep, consuming, a perfect match to the rhythm you’d set. His hands explored your back, your sides, your hips, mapping every inch of you like he never wanted to forget.

As the pace quickened, so did the intensity. Jake’s lips left yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver racing through you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you tipped your head back, surrendering completely to the moment.

His grip on your waist tightened, and his lips found the hollow of your throat. Every movement between you spoke louder than words ever could—the way his hands caressed you, the way your body arched into his, the way his lips lingered on your skin like he couldn’t get enough.

This wasn’t just a fleeting moment, and you could feel it in the way he held you. He wasn’t just here for now—he was here for you, wholly and completely. And though neither of you spoke, the weight of that realization settled between you, amplifying the passion that had consumed you both.

As the rhythm between you grew more urgent, Jake leaned back, letting his head hit the pillow as his hands guided your hips. His eyes were locked on you, full of heat and awe, like he couldn’t believe you were real. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your gaze softened as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The way he looked at you, touched you, kissed you—it was like he was unraveling every fear you’d ever had about being vulnerable, about letting someone in.

When the moment finally crested, your head fell forward, your lips finding the crook of his neck as he held you close, his hands splayed against your back to steady you. You stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, neither of you willing to pull away.

Jake’s fingers brushed over your spine, his touch gentle as your breathing began to slow. He tilted his head to press a soft kiss to your temple, and you felt the tension in his body ease as he cradled you against him.

No words were spoken, but they weren’t needed. Everything you felt, everything he felt—it was all there, in the way he held you, in the way you lingered against him, unwilling to let the moment end.

The silence in the room was peaceful, broken only by the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets. Jake’s hand skimmed lazily along your back, his touch soothing and warm as you rested against his chest. For a moment, you both just lay there, content in the afterglow of everything that had passed between you.

But of course, Jake couldn’t let the moment stay quiet for too long. His fingers danced lightly along your spine, and you felt his chest rumble with a low chuckle.

“So,” he drawled, his tone laced with that familiar cocky edge, “was it everything you imagined it would be? Or do you need another round for comparison purposes?”

You let out a soft laugh, lifting your head to look at him. His grin was downright smug, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, even as your lips tugged into a smile. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered for what felt like the tenth time since you arrived at Jake's place last night, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Jake smirked, clearly unbothered by your comment. “Ridiculous, maybe, but you like it.”

“Debatable,” you teased, your tone light and playful as you reached up to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

His grin only widened, and he gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Hey, I don’t blame you for falling for the whole ‘hot guy in a Stetson’ thing. Happens to the best of ‘em.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, maybe,” Jake said, leaning in just enough to brush his lips against yours. “But I think you like me anyway.”

You wanted to argue, to fire back some witty retort, but the softness in his gaze stopped you short. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin as he smiled at you—not his usual cocky grin, but something quieter, more genuine.

“I mean it,” he said softly, his voice carrying none of the teasing from before. “You’re…amazing.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and you dropped your eyes, suddenly shy. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Jake chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Not so bad, huh? I’ll take it.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy as you settled back against him, your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as the playful banter faded into a comfortable silence.

As your eyes began to drift closed, you felt Jake press a kiss to the top of your head, his voice soft and warm as he murmured, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything might just be exactly as it should be.

[zosan-secondchances]

The Pirate King of the North: Part 9

Bonus panels for some extra backstory.

Main Themes: Villain Sanji, Alternate Universe, Zosan Ship

Warning: Long post ahead with One Piece spoilers. Contains strong language and explicit content.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

That night, the swordsman makes a last minute decision to rectify things with the blonde. He figured that there's no point in delaying as this might be the only chance they get to talk one-on-one before they get stuck in Skypiea with Law for however long they need to be up there. Since his cocktail-making skills are apparently subpar at best, he thought he'd turn to doing something else that he hopes Sanji would like before he pops the question–about the name, he reminds himself. Whatever it is, it will need to be something incredible to make up for the shame of not knowing something so simple about the man after all the years they’ve known together.

He thinks about quickly jumping off to collect some flowers in Jaya’s South Grove, but he is met by Jean Bart who drags his sorry feet back inside. The large man assigned himself on “Zoro duty”, not wanting the Warlord to get lost the night before he needed to depart with their captain. Apparently they had pissed him off enough already that day.

Zoro turns to the kitchen to try and find Sanji's favourite snacks, and maybe sneak away with a couple bottles of wine to help set the mood. Unfortunately he bumped into Hakugan and Uni who are guarding the door, ready to strike him down should he set foot inside the room. They give him a powerful performance of their martial arts prowess as a gentle reminder that he's banned from the place, warning him that they’re not afraid to put their lives on the line to enforce Law’s rules. When he tried to ask for their assistance to go and fetch what he needed, they both turned him away, thinking that he's just trying to distract them so he can do whatever evil thing he apparently was set out to do.

His last option was the library. He’s not much of a reader but he figured he would try because he knew of Sanji’s love for knowledge and books. He wants to read a story or two with him to see if that’s something they would enjoy doing together. Sadly, when he arrives, he is met by the Grand Line’s most impatient doctor who is currently studying the Skypiea map with Bepo at the polar bear’s drafting table, trying to come up with a plan of action for when they get there in the morning. Not wanting to be distracted or have the library wrecked the way Zoro did with the kitchen, Law used his Room ability to teleport him out of there before he could even get a chance to grab something off the shelves.

Having no other options left, Zoro resorts to the idea of giving the blonde mind-blowing sex. He would worship him like the king he is and he would do it all night if the other man demanded it so. The swordsman figured it's probably the safest bet anyway while they’re in the early honeymoon phase of their relationship. Sanji is highly skilled in that area for a very good reason.

He makes his way to their bunkroom. Under the door, he sees that the dim light of the desk lamp is still on. Finally, things are looking up. He thinks to himself that now’s the perfect chance to make a move while Sanji is probably still up reading at this hour as usual.

Until he hears a couple of familiar voices on the other side of the door. They were muffled, but their identities were clear.

Sanji

…Are you sure that you're okay? I don't know how effective it is with the front broken like that.

Niji

Dunno. It's like…having mood swings. The sensation goes in and out. It's a bit weird.

Sanji

I need you to get it fixed first then. And while you're at it, drop off the new stones at the lab.

I'm not sending you in until you're all good.

Niji

I can still fight.

Sanji

I'm not letting you take the risk until your helmet’s fixed, Niji. That's my final word. You’re on your own with this next mission and I need you to be able to make good calls.

Another pang of guilt hits the swordsman–for not being careful enough and wrecking the commander’s helmet, and for eavesdropping for as long as he has so far. He starts walking backwards, and was about to turn his heel and move somewhere else to give them privacy when Sanji’s voice pierced through the door.

Sanji

Hey, Mosshead! Don't be a creep and get in here.

Zoro flinches, and silently curses the blonde’s mastery of his observation haki. He doesn't want to make things look worse than it already is so he opens the door awkwardly. He's met by two pairs of eyes.

Sanji is leaning with his palms against the desk while Niji is sitting on the chair, fiddling with the blonde's claw gauntlet on the table. It looks like there's two now. From afar, Zoro could tell that their blades are longer, sharper and more dangerous than the last. The metallic scale armour that covered the glove is a new addition, having only just durable leather holding everything together before.

Niji

Spying on us, are we?

Zoro grits his teeth, throwing the blue-haired man an annoyed look.

Sanji

This is also his room, Commander.

Niji tuts disapprovingly then resumes his work on the claw gauntlet.

Zoro

I didn't want to interrupt. I’ll just head out for some fresh air.

Sanji

You didn't interrupt anything. The commander was just showing me his handiwork. He’ll be done soon! I just needed a couple of fitting adjustments done and we’re all set.

Niji

Hmm… no. Now that I think about it, this will take a bit longer than I thought. 

Sanji

What? But you said–

Niji

Whoops.

As if done on purpose, a buckle disassembles itself in Niji’s hands. Little bits of metal scatter on the desk.

Sanji

You’re such an ass. Fine. Stay here, hog the room. I don’t care. Let’s go, Marimo.

Niji

No, I need you to stay here so we can refit it. Because the buckle’s broken now.

Sanji

You broke it!

Niji

And I need to fix it but I can only do that if you’re here. So, stay.

Sanji

I will actually pluck your eyeballs out one of these days, Commander.

Sanji stomps out the door, grabbing Zoro’s arm along the way.

Niji

Where are you going? We need to get this done tonight before you head off first thing!

Sanji

I’ll be back!

Zoro and Sanji walk arm-in-arm quietly to the deck of the ship. They were met by Jean Bart who was about to tell off Zoro for being outside, but the blonde reassured the large man that he has eyes on him, promising to keep the grumbling swordsman out of trouble. Happy with the response, the Heart Pirate retires inside for the night.

Zoro

Isn’t the whole point of me being here is to keep an eye on you?

Sanji chuckled heartily–music to the swordsman’s ears.

Sanji

I know. What the hell happened to us?

They proceeded to the bow of the ship and settled themselves against the railing. It was quiet and serene. The crescent moon is up, revealing the dark silhouette of Jaya island on the horizon. Above, stars shone brightly across the span of the night sky–its reflections twinkled playfully on the still waters of the ocean below.

Sanji

You’re awfully quiet.

Zoro tears his gaze away from the scene. He looks next to him where the blonde has a hand wrapped around his arm and finishing a cigarette with the other.

Sanji

You usually are, but your silence is…louder somehow.

The swordsman rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. Suddenly he’s not so sure what to say and how he’d ask the big question. He wanted to get this far tonight–tried many times to set up the scene better but to no avail. He also didn’t realise how he would feel right in the thick of things.

Zoro

There’s been a lot in my mind. Sorry.

Sanji

Never apologise for that…but whatever it is, I could tell that it’s eating you up.

Zoro sighs and returns his gaze to the island on the horizon.

Sanji

Is this because you had a fight with my brother?

Zoro’s eyebrows shoot up.

Zoro

Did he–?

Sanji

He didn’t have to. His helmet's busted and don’t think I haven’t noticed your little injury on your forehead, damn Mosshead. If you don’t take care of your head, how will you be able to photosynthesize?

Zoro scowls at the mockery.

Sanji laughs lightly, kissing the swordsman on the cheek as a way of reassuring him that it’s just a joke. After noticing that his attempt to release the tension didn’t work, he speaks in a slightly more serious tone.

Sanji

Did he try to scare you away? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all night?

Zoro shakes his head.

Sanji

Don’t freak out or anything but… you’re not the first that he’s done that to. I can tell him to back off if you want.

Zoro

No… it’ll take a lot more than that to get me to leave your side, Curls.

The blonde’s expression softens.

Zoro

Though, I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was trying to avoid you. I spent hours… ages… trying to plan this whole thing for us tonight but I feel like whatever I do…

The swordsman gets flashbacks of all the times he’d slashed and stabbed the man. He remembers cursing his way repeatedly for attempting to propose to him for the umpteenth time. He recalls their first kiss–how the first thing that came out of his mouth was to tell him to not kill the Celestial Dragon, and because of that, it nearly cost him his life. In fact, he might have permanently if not for their skillful doctor. He remembers the way the blonde held onto the liberated family from Sabaody. How, even in his critical condition, he fought from fully succumbing into sleep just to make sure that everyone was okay as they fled from the Pacifistas. 

And now, with a seemingly easy task of organising a romantic night, the swordsman can’t even do such a simple thing for him.

Zoro clenches his fists against the wooden railing.

Zoro

I can’t seem to do anything right by you…. I just feel like everything that I do is not good enough–or just flat out hurts you. And right now, I have nothing but myself to offer. For whatever that's worth.

Sanji

Zoro…

Zoro shifts so he’s looking at Sanji face to face then holds both of his hands in his, making the other man drop his cigarette. The determined fiery look in his eye makes the blonde jump in surprise.

Zoro

Curls, I want to get to know you better.

Sanji

Uh–sure!

Zoro

What’s your favourite food?

Sanji

Uhm… let’s see…

Zoro

If you had all the money in the world, where would you go?

Sanji

Oh Mellorine, I do have all the mon–

Zoro

How long does it take to get there?

Is that where you want to go for our first date?

Is shopping your thing? I'm not good with that stuff but I could ask Nami or Robin for advice.

If we’re going on holiday, can we do it alone first or would you prefer bringing your family along?

How many kids do you want to have?

Sanji

MARIMO!

Sanji thinks that he’s about to go crazy. His face is all red, he feels hot up to his ears and his heart is pounding so much like it's going to burst out of his chest. The swordsman’s sweetness and thoughtfulness overwhelms him with joy. He starts laughing out loud–in a way that he’s never laughed before, ignoring the slight ache from his recent surgery. He thinks that if he breaks stitches this way, so be it, because he’s never felt his chest so light and heart so full. He felt so happy that he could fly. 

The swordsman looked confused and offended from all the unhinged laughter like he was being made fun of.

Sanji cups Zoro’s face into his hands, trying his best to recover from his outburst.

Sanji

I didn’t realise that you needed to know everything now!

Zoro looks down to his lips, watching that attractive smile that he’s always drawn to.

Zoro

I just�� I really wanted to… to…

Sanji pulls him in to claim his mouth with his. He pushes Zoro roughly against the railing, determined to show the swordsman how much he appreciates him at that very moment. He slides his hand up and down the man’s body, massaging, caressing and feeling everything that he could lay his hands on. He wants to show his love and admiration to the man by worshipping every part of him. Zoro was more than happy to reciprocate the affection.

They stayed like that for what seemed like a lifetime. Regrettably, Sanji pulls himself away from the most passionate kiss he's ever had in his life so he could breathe. He kept his body close as he panted.

Zoro leans in and continues his assault on his lips–biting and sucking hard then giving them soothing licks to ease the arousing pain–not wanting for everything to stop so soon. Between breaths, the blonde speaks.

Sanji

We have our entire lives to get to know one another…. What’s your rush, Marimo?

Zoro freezes at that, blinking his eye. Then for the first time that night, he smiles his genuine toothy smile.

Zoro

I guess we do, don’t we?

Sanji scoops up one of his rough hands and gives it a tender kiss on the calloused knuckles.

Sanji

I want to savour every moment of this–of us, okay? Right now, it’s just you, me… and this.

Sanji gestures at the scene in front of them, then swings his hand around to point out the environment surrounding them–the bright moon, the calm waters and the clear starry skies.

Sanji

Nothing else matters.

Zoro looks into his wide blue eyes. They're positively glowing a lot more so than usual tonight. He wraps his arms around the man and leans his forehead on his, kissing the bridge of his nose. The blonde was correct–nothing else mattered. It felt right to be there. In his heart, he decides to make it a mission to spend every waking moment to prove that he's worthy of his trust, even if it takes a lifetime for him to open up and tell him his real name. He would not demand it that day. He thinks that if he truly deserved it, the blonde will share it to him in time at his own volition. They do have a lifetime to get to know one another, after all.

The swordsman had lost a gamble with Nami that night. He’ll have to remember to send the navigator a couple hundred Beri through the post somehow for betting on him falling in love that year.

—

At a far distance, hidden in the thick mist of the sea, a particularly tall and lanky Warlord watches the blonde and his green-haired companion through the lens of his spyglass. With a flick of his wrist, he retracts the telescope and tosses it to a dark silhouette of a man.

Stranger

Now's the perfect time. Let’s do it.

Doflamingo

Hmm…no. I want to savour… every… moment of this….

He lets out a deep chuckle. 

Doflamingo

Besides, I have another job for you. But that’s tomorrow’s problem.

You are dismissed.

He waves off the man, and the figure walks off. Doflamingo stands from the comfort of his chair and takes a few long strides to the bow of the ship, never taking his eyes off the small dot on the horizon that is the Polar Tang.

Doflamingo

I’m grateful you showed us the way, Pirate King. You never fail me, do you?

…Sanji.

----------

I had way too much fun with those panel drawings. (Honestly part of it was me trying to find an excuse to draw more dofsan lol)

If it's not obvious yet, I try to line up certain things about this Sanji and canon Sanji. Instead of him being exclusively in love with mermaids, I like to think he loves all merfolk in this story.

Fukaboshi's always been the one on my mind as Sanji's "the one who got away" romance. I was rewatching Fish-man Island arc and I remembered how wise and noble he is, and has a great sense of responsibility to look after his family. I figured this Sanji would be attracted to those qualities.

Plus, you know, have you seen those big hands? Fwah~!

[xxgoldie]

Hyewwo, if you don't mind.. 👉👈

I, U, and X for Lighter? 🥺 Thank you so much for what you do!

main event page - event masterlist

I: Injury - how do they act when you get hurt? No matter the severity of the injury, Lighter worries about you. Something bad happenning to you is like his worst nightmare, so his eyes instinctively fly to you in a panic every time you make any sound of pain, even if it's just a papercut or stubbed toe. If you get seriously injured, though, he's an absolute wreck. He wants so badly to protect you and make sure you're okay, but seeing you in so much pain and covered in your own blood has him losing it, the closest he's getting to helping is half-begging half-threatening anyone with medical training to Do Something. He hates hospitals, but he won't leave your side until you're okay, even if you end up in one. Won't even let himself sleep until your condition is stable. And as your recovering and sent home, you'll have a 24/7 assistant and guard until you're back to tiptop shape, that brief taste of losing you has him extra protective, even permanently.

U: Upset - how would they comfort you if you're upset? Lighter is a practical man - he's great if you're frustrated about something and need to vent since he'll analyse all the details with you, picking apart the situation and helping you to decide the next course of action. But that's not the most helpful response when the feelings are more fresh, and he understands that. He doesn't really know what to do with himself if you cry in front of him - he hates to see you so upset and he rarely knows what to say to make you feel better. Instead, he'll opt to just hold you, pressing soft kisses into your hair and mutter soft reassurances, little "I'm here"s and "you're okay"s. As you start recovering, his mission becomes to make you laugh, whether it takes a corny joke or a tickle attack with kisses pressed all over your face, distracting you until you're ready to talk through whatever upset you.

X: X-Ray - how easily can they read their partner? how easy are they to read? Lighter is really perceptive - he's really good at reading people in general, so he sees through you so easily with how much time you spend together. He can always tell if there's something bothering you, or if you're particularly attracted to something he does. The first he uses for good, coaxing you to talk about it or getting you a treat to cheer you up before you even tell him something's wrong. He'll find solutions you didn't know existed to problems you barely have, and all you have to do is make one slightly frustrated sigh. The latter he uses for pure evil, he's an absolute menace, showing off the things he knows you like. No matter how cool you try to play it, he can Tell he's affecting you, its lowkey infuriating how proud of himself he looks. When it comes to reading him, its a bit tougher. He's pretty good at hiding and repressing his thoughts when he wants to, not letting them show on his face. Besides, his sunglasses make it a bit harder to read his expressions. But with you, he doesn't hide his thoughts that often, especially in private, and you can pretty easily tell exactly what he's feeling just from his face. Between that and how easily he reads you, you can probably have whole conversations with him just using facial expressions

[the-tartan-spartan]

OOC POST

Here's a little behind the scenes so you guys have a better idea of what's going down! One shot below the cut, enjoy!!

Blu Demoman x Blu engineer

_________

Caz took a deep breath as he knocked on the workshop, the sounds of machinery stopped abruptly and he heard shuffling.

"Who is it?"

Dallas' voice rang through the workshop door and Caz regretted he hadn't drank this morning. He wasn't sure he could do this without some liquid courage. "Jus' me lad. I'm sober as a judge, I promise ye." Caz responded and the door opened slightly, Dallas standing in the doorway looking wary. "What do you want, Caz?" He asked, looking at the Scotsman and then behind him to the empty hallway.

"I jus' wanna talk. I promise I'm not drunk." Caz assured, but Dallas hadn't stepped aside. "An' talk about what, exactly? That you're sorry, for outing me to the whole fuckin' world? That you're sorry my own family disowned me cuz' of your big mouth? That you're sorry-" "I was scared," he interrupted, his voice strained.

"It donnae excuse me poor actions or the fact that I jus' dinnae think about how ye feel- I was selfish an' scared an' I took it out on ye." Caz admitted, and Dallas had gone quiet, looking away and crossing his arms. "An' I'm so sorry fer it. I cannae apologize enough for it." Caz continued and Dallas took a shaky breath.

"Why are you here, Caz?" He asked softly, still not meeting his eyes. "I... I need ta tell ye." But the words caught in his throat like sandpaper to concrete. "Tell me what?" He finally looked up, his face unreadable.

"I.."

I care for ye, lad.

Ye mean everythin' to me.

Please forgive me.

I cannae live without ye.

Ye mean more ta me than anythin'.

Ye are everythin' ta me.

I'm scared.

I don't know what to do.

I love you.

"I'm...sorry." Caz stuttered and Dallas frowned. "You already told me that, I get it, you're sorry for outing me, that's it. I don't want to talk about it. Go away, please." He started to close the door and Caz's panic spiked, reaching out and putting his foot between the door and frame. "Och, tha's nae what I meant! Let me explain-"

"There's nothing to explain, Caz. What more is there to say?"

"I loved ye since before ye ever looked twice my way, an' I'd be a doon right edjit tae ruin tha' over something I'm scared of." He blurted and the words hung heavy in the air. Dallas stared at him, his grip on the door loosening as the words processed. A deep sigh came from the shorter man as he knocked his head against the wooden frame a few times with a soft thump.

"Caz I....Cameron," he started and Caz's heart dropped to his stomach. "I don't know if I can just let go of all the shit you've put me through." Caz nodded, a lump forming in his throat as he felt a sharp sting in his nose, his tounge became thick in his throat, and his eyes burned.

He didn't know why, he really didn't, but the thought of losing Dallas, the one thing that was worth anything to him was just too much to bear. Still, he listened. "But lovin' you scared the shit out of me. And it fuckin' hurts. So much."

A tear rolled down Caz's cheek as his chest began to hurt. It felt like someone had reached into his chest and crushed his heart. "Dal-" "Please, leave me alone, Cameron. Please. I can't do this right now. Not with you." Dallas had his eyes closed and Caz nodded, moving his foot as the door clicked shut. He just stared at the wood, his mind reeling.

Caz was quiet, and he could see Dallas' face screw up in the attempt to hold back his tears. He always was a bit of a crybaby, that tended to be that way with Mama's boys. "I'm tired. I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of hiding, I'm tired of pretending." Dallas's voice cracked, and he was full on crying now, trying and failing to hide his sobs.

"An' you of of all people should know how that feels, Cameron."

Caz stood there, trying to calm his racing heart, the words replaying in his head, and he was left feeling lost, numb. Like he was walking in a haze. He turned, not entirely sure where he was going, and started down the hall.

[jinxedruby]

Whumptober Day Thirty-One: Used as Bait

Featuring Legend and Warriors.

wow hi hello I finally DID IT I can finally rest Sorry for the wait! But here's the conclusion to days fourteen and twenty-seven (where Warriors and Legend fight some hunters in the woods), and the conclusion to Whumptober 2024! God I'm tired lol

Heads up for some major violence, injury, and minor character death (bad guys) in this one.

AO3

First part | <- Previous part | Next part -> (may or may not do art for this one, we'll see lol)

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

Legend’s knee throbbed with each and every step. He stifled the urge to groan or hiss, pulling his lips into his mouth and clamping them between his teeth. He kept one hand wrapped around the loaded crossbow, the other darting out to steady himself against every tree he passed. He wanted to stop and sit down the moment the adrenaline had worn away, but the hunter kept walking so Legend kept following.

A poorly-placed step drove a sharp thorn of fire up under his kneecap. He smothered a grunt against his closed lips, hopping on his good leg. He took the briefest of moments to lean against a tree, knocking his forehead against the bark and shutting his eyes. As much as he hated to admit it, he wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer. His knee, his throat, his head, every part of him ached and burned. At this rate, even if the man did lead him to Warriors, which Legend had begun to doubt, Legend probably wouldn’t be in any fit state to stage a rescue. Or body recovery.

Legend screwed his eyes shut tight until he saw stars, shoving back the nagging voice. He opened them again, took a quick breath that hurt his throat just like every other inhale, and pushed away from the tree. He peered around it to ascertain the man’s location before hobbling after him once more. The moon hung large and bright in the sky, palely illuminating Legend’s path. The shade of the woods still hid some bumps and roots in the ground that Legend occasionally stumbled over, but the moon provided enough light that he could tail the man at a safer distance.

A faint, low din pricked at Legend’s ears. He slowed, softened his steps as much as he could in order to strain his hearing. The din grew louder as he followed the hunter, enough for Legend to make out the sharp s’s and t’s of speech. His heart thudded against his ribs. The hunter must have heard the voices too as he suddenly picked up the pace, muttering something under his breath. Legend didn’t speed up, electing to stay low and move slowly, switching from following the man to following the sounds of voices. The speaking stuttered into silence, a sharp yell rising above it.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Legend heard the hunter shout. A moment passed, followed by a different voice responding. The hunter replied and conversation ensued, but Legend couldn’t make out any words, only scattered syllables. The din of talking resumed. Legend picked his way through the forest, keeping a close eye on his surroundings for movement or the glow of a fire.

“...st someone got something,” a voice ahead of him said. He crouched slightly, knee protesting at the action. He sank his teeth into his lip and ignored it best he could, slinking from bush to bush.

A snort punctured the air. “Yeah, the others did. You three are the only ones that came back.”

At least four of them. Legend mentally filed the information away.

“Yeah, because that guy is a trained swordsman!” a new voice called angrily. “I thought we were too far out of the way for knights!”

“We are.”

“Clearlynot, I watched him take out four of us like it was nothing!”

“We’re plenty far from Castle Town, he’s not a knight!”

“How would you know? You’ve been sitting on your ass this whole damn time-”

“In any case-” a third voice cut in loudly, silencing the brewing argument, “-he’s not a threat anymore. Let’s all just take a breath, alright? No need to be going at each others’ throats.”

A few begrudging grumbles of assent responded. Legend stiffened, mouth dry. They were talking about Warriors. A brief wave of despair washed over him at the man saying Warriors wasn’t a threat anymore. Legend tightened his jaw before his mind could spiral with every horrible scenario it could conjure. They used present tense when referring to the captain. Which probably meant he still lived. Legend took a slow breath, blinking quickly. He refocused and shuffled forward. The low drone of voices resumed, snatches of inconsequential conversations drifting past him. A branch of a bush rustled as it scraped along his arm and he winced at the sound. The hunters made no indication of having heard and he forced himself to continue forward. He still couldn’t see the light of a fire, navigating only based on their voices. The closer they sounded, the tenser he grew.

He very clearly heard one of them clear his throat. Blood rushed through Legend’s head and fingers, aching in his knee and throat. Any second, he expected a man to come around a tree just ahead and spot him. Every second that it didn’t happen only left him feeling more wound up.

He poked his head around a bush. A man sat on a fallen log only a few paces away, back turned to Legend. Beyond him stood two men before short stacks of cages, the moonlight glimmering off the metal of the bars. Legend risked leaning out just a bit farther to get a better lay of the land. Two more men sat on the ground at the right edge of the small clearing, chatting idly. Legend slowly ducked back behind the bush. Five hunters. Five, and his state could hardly be called fit to fight. His head spun. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, rubbing his brow. He’d need to think about this. He couldn’t charge in, he’d be caught or killed immediately. If he just knew where they had Warriors…

Staying as quiet as possible, he carefully peered around the bush again. Now that he got a better look, he could see the two men checking each cage. The cages were made mostly of wood, only the front of them having a metal grate. The night made the insides of the cages dark with shadow and difficult to see. Legend couldn’t tell if any of them even contained anything. Only one cage rose above the men’s heads, the others varying sizes of medium and small.

A little whimper pricked Legend’s ears. It rose to a soft cry that sounded feminine. One of the men sighed and moved to a cage that barely reached his knee. He gave it a swift kick, a watery yelp mingling with the crash of metal and wood.

“Quiet,” the man demanded gruffly. Another small whimper rose from the cage before falling back into silence. Anger bubbled in Legend’s gut.

“Getting kinda late, isn’t it?” Legend’s eyes flicked over to one of the men sitting on the right. “Should someone look for the others?”

“We can wait a bit longer,” the one sitting with his back to Legend said, voice clear and loud from the proximity. “If they don’t get back soon we’ll take what we have to the couriers.”

“We’d better get good money for that swordsman,” one of the men before the cages grumbled.

A man on the right barked out a hollow laugh. “Doubt it.”

“Why?” The other man by the cages turned his head, revealing his profile. Legend recognized him as the hunter he had followed.

“’Cause he just turned into an animal.” The man on the right pointed to a small cage at the edge of the stacks. “A very normal one, at that.”

The hunter Legend had followed picked it up, tilting it back to peer inside. He snorted. “That… yeah, alright.” He shook his head and set the cage down with a thud. Half behind the other cages. Legend’s eyes widened slightly.

The men continued to talk but Legend unconsciously tuned it out, gaze fixed on what must have been Warriors’ cage. His heart thudded against his ribs, picking up speed as a plan hastily whipped together in his mind. Carefully, he turned away from the hunters and silently moved deeper into the woods. After what felt like a safer distance away, he began circling around the edge of the camp. He caught glimpses of the men or the cages through the trees. He used those brief glances to guide himself around behind the cages. The stacks of cages formed a makeshift wall between him and the men, since the backs were solid wood. He moved closer, gaze darting between the cages and the two men seated at the edge of the clearing. They were the only of the five men in line of sight of where Legend needed to go to reach Warriors’ cage. Legend stalled behind a tree, skin alight with nerves. He swept his gaze across the cages, the trees, gauged the distance between himself and Warriors, trying to figure out a way to get to him without the hunters spotting him. He chanced another look at the men.

Their spots at the edge of the clearing sat bare. Legend blinked, stared, a mix of dread and impatience churning in his gut and making him feel nauseous. He glanced around himself, half-expecting to see the two men sneaking up behind him. But the woods around him stood empty. He returned his gaze to Warriors’ cage, jaw set in determination. Whatever the reason the men had moved, he couldn’t miss his chance. He loosely fastened the crossbow to his belt to free his hands. Steeling himself, taking a steadying breath, he hurried out of the cover of trees.

His heart crashed about in his chest. Adrenaline buzzed through his veins as he closed the distance between him and the little cage. He continually tossed glances about, making sure the two men hadn’t made a surprise reappearance. His knee burned from the half-crouch and quick pace, pain radiating down his shin and up his thigh. He gritted his teeth and pressed onwards.

After a few more steps, he reached the cage. He dragged it fully behind the other cages, staying low and hidden. He turned it around, ducked down to look through the metal grate.

A large bundle and black and white lay in a heap at the back of the cage. Legend narrowed his eyes as he fiddled with the cage’s latch, trying to get a better look. Royal blue fabric stood starkly against the monochrome, a little scarf wrapped around the animal’s neck. The bundle moved, feathers rustled. A small black head lifted, a little tuft of fluff at the crown reminiscent of the captain’s hair shifting at the movement. Blue eyes blinked open and drifted across Legend’s face. Legend could have laughed with relief, instead giving a quiet huff.

The bird’s – the captain’s – beak opened, Warriors’ voice coming out in a soft croak. “Collector…?”

Legend quickly pressed a finger to his lips, eyes darting around himself. He glanced down at the latch again, figuring out to squeeze the metal loop and slide it out of place. He pinched a bar between two fingers to pull the grate open.

Footsteps pounded behind him. He didn’t even have time to reach for his sword. Arms wrapped around him, yanked him back. His damaged throat turned his yelp into a hiss as hands twisted into his tunic and hair, dragging him around the cages. He wrenched an arm free, swung a fist blindly. His knuckles grazed across a whiskered jaw, not nearly hard enough to do any damage. Then the man seized his arm again, wrapping his own around it and holding him by a fistful of his tunic. He struggled futilely against the two men as they wrestled him away from Warriors and around to the other three hunters. They twisted him around as he fought against them. He aimed a wild kick up towards one, dug his nails into the flesh of one of the arms holding him. The hand in his hair yanked back harshly on it, forcing his head back. An arm locked around his throat, the bruised flesh burning at the contact. The arm tightened, not enough to cut off blood or air, but enough to threaten him into falling still.

The hunter he had followed strolled forward, a dark grin on his face. “You really think I didn’t hear you following me, kid?”

Legend snarled. He lashed a boot out that the hunter easily skipped away from with a laugh. The arm around his throat squeezed and he choked. It loosened again a moment later so he could breathe. Reflexive tears stung in his eyes. He silently cursed himself. Of course. Of course, the hunter he followed must have quietly told the others about Legend and they’d made a plan. He put Warriors’ cage in an easily accessible place on purpose and Legend wanted to kick himself for falling for the trap so easily. The two men had vanished because they’d seen him coming and he felt like an idiot for not questioning it more.

“So he is alive,” another hunter said, moving closer. “How the hell did he survive that fall?”

A familiar clicking sound made Legend’s blood run cold. A hunter loaded one of the glass-tipped bolts into his crossbow, moving toward Legend as he did. “No idea, but this kid’ll be worth a fortune alone.”

“Oh?”

The man leveled the crossbow at Legend. Legend started struggling against the hunters holding him again, heedless of the arm tightening around his neck. He felt the light weight of the moon pearl on his chest. It worked to change him back before, it should work again, but he didn’t know if the bolt wouldn’t work at all and if the men would just decide to kill him in that case. The hunter squeezed the trigger and Legend flinched.

The bolt slammed into his stomach, glass ball popping open. A bright yellow flash filled his vision followed by the immediate, familiar sensation of shifting forms. Pain roared through his knee as the ligaments and cartilage shifted and stretched in spite of the damage. The same happened in his throat and a harsh yell ripped from it, only making the burning worse. The sensation ended as quickly as it began. Before he could even think to move, a hand wrapped around his rabbit ears and lifted him straight off the ground. Pain speared through his head at the harsh pulling and he yelped, squirming, trying to scratch the arm holding him.

“A pink rabbit?” a hunter exclaimed with delight that made Legend’s skin crawl. The voice laughed, the sound muffled weirdly by the hand around his ears. “There are hardly any rabbits left! Goddess, he’s big, too.”

“He’ll be worth a fortune, alright.”

“We could even haggle with this one. Lot of these creatures start to look the same after so many, but this one’s special.”

They continued talking as the man holding Legend swung around, carrying him toward the cages. Legend kicked and thrashed, panic flooding his senses. The moon pearl would kick in, right? Any second now, right? The cage the man brought him towards looked small. He didn’t want to find out what would happen if he transformed inside a confined space, he really, really didn’t want to find out. He struggled to scratch the hand holding him, kick at the arm, anything to stall for time. But the man held him at arm’s length, he couldn’t reach any part of him with his stupid little legs. The man crouched down, unlatching one of the cages.

Something jerked in Legend’s gut. His blood roared, fire screeched through his wounds as his bones and muscles shifted again. The man, suddenly holding a fistful of Legend’s hair instead of ears, shouted a startled curse, reeling back. Legend yanked his one crossbow bolt out from under his belt. Holding it like a knife, he jabbed it against the man’s leg, hard enough to break the glass ball. The man vanished with a yell in a puff of smoke and a flash of yellow light. Something small replaced him that Legend didn’t bother to look at, lunging to his feet. He ripped the loaded crossbow off his belt as he whipped around. The other four hunters gaped at him, some already starting to move. He zeroed in on the one that had shot him, yanked the crossbow up. He fired his final bolt into the man’s chest. The man stumbled and transformed into a squat creature with a squashed face and little horns.

The remaining three hunters all charged forward at once. Abandoning the crossbow, Legend threw himself to the side. Dirt shoved up under his fingernails as he desperately used any purchase he could to scramble to his feet. He lunged out of the way of the hunter that reached him first. The hunter streaked past him, cages crashing and toppling as he ran headlong into them. Several gasps and shouts rose from within the containers as they fell. Legend’s knee screeched as he struggled to run. He dragged in a haggard gasp, reaching for his sword. It raked along the scabbard as he drew it, the muscles in his forearm aching. The two hunters bore down on him and he hobbled to the side, crossing his sword across his body. One hunter delivered a strike to his blade that sent him stumbling. The second man attacked just as quickly. Legend barely moved in time to block the blow. He parried another attack, desperately searching for an opening to strike. Every time he saw one, he didn’t move quick enough to take advantage of it, slowed by his wounds and fatigue.

Legend caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye, where the big hunter had careened into the cages. He tried to look, nearly caught a blade in his arm for the distraction. He blocked one swing, ducked under another. He wrenched his sword around, carving a slash along one hunter’s middle. The man grunted and stumbled back. Just as Legend started to move to attack the other one, a dark mass appeared to his left. His heart leapt into his throat, he frantically tried to move. Something heavy crashed into his calves, sweeping them out from under him and sending him sprawling.

He tried and failed to catch himself, the back of his head colliding with the hard ground. It felt like a spike driving through his skull, hot pain searing through his brain and blurring his vision. The fairy must not have fully healed his head from the fall. He struggled to move, frantically trying to gather his wits and sit up. A boot connected with his wrist, knocking his sword from his grasp. Another came down on his chest, forcing a wheeze from him and pressing him flat against the ground.

“Turn him back before he gets any ideas!” a hunter from somewhere to his right shouted.

“No, we gotta figure out how he turned back to a human in the first place,” the one pinning him down replied. He shifted more weight onto Legend’s chest, the collector’s ribs creaking beneath it. “How’d you change back?”

Legend mustered up a scowl. His eyes darted around as he looked for his sword. As he did, his gaze fell on the large cage just beside him. He could just make out a hulking figure huddled at the back of it. Intelligent eyes met his own, and the figure shifted forward. Even more weight crushing against his sternum snapped his attention back to the hunter.

“Tell me,” the hunter snarled, “if you want to keep your miserable life.”

Legend didn’t trust his throat to support his voice to any capacity. But he didn’t need to speak in order to glare daggers at the man. The man’s expression darkened. He shifted his foot upwards along Legend’s chest. The toe pressed into Legend’s throat and a surge of fear coursed through him. He thrashed, bent his legs and reached for his boot.

A familiar shout pierced the air. A flurry of black, white, and blue vaulted from outside Legend’s field of view. It collided with the man’s head in a mess of feathers and talons. The man yelled, reeling back and swatting wildly at the bird, at Warriors. His boot twisted away from Legend’s throat as he did. Legend sucked in a painful gasp, jammed his fingers down his own boot. He grabbed the knife hidden there, yanked it out, and plunged it into the man’s calf. The man roared, stumbling off of Legend. Legend shot away from him the second that he could. He scrambled to his feet, staggering a little. Warriors scratched and pecked at the hunter’s face, the streak of brilliant blue feathers on his wings flashing in the moonlight. The shock of Warriors’ display began to wear off on the other two hunters, the men refocusing on Legend. Legend took a step, desperately casting his gaze about for his sword. His knee gave out from under him, sending him crashing into the large cage beside him. He hissed at the pain, fingers curling into the holes of the metal grate. Something large moved next to him and he flinched. His head snapped up to see the hulking figure in the cage again. A beat passed. Legend made a snap decision.

He lunged for the cage’s latch. He fumbled with it for a second before managing to unlock it. Just as he began to pull the cage open, two arms wrapped around him and hauled him back. A yelp died in his throat, heart exploding in his chest. He threw an elbow back, trying to catch the hunter in the face or the stomach. He thrashed but the man didn’t flinch or slow, only moving to restrain Legend more securely.

A roar rose from the large cage. The door banged open and the figure charged out into the open. It appeared to be some cross between a deer and a lion, four hoofed legs and a feline-like head. The man-turned-beast charged for Legend and the man. The man hesitated for a moment, hanging onto Legend as if to use him as a shield. Then he seemed to think better of it, hurling Legend to the ground with a curse and diving to the side. Legend scrambled out of the way, the beast streaking past.

As Legend struggled to his feet, he caught sight of his sword laying in the grass. He hurried toward it, nearly toppled over as he stooped to grab it. As he straightened again, sword in hand, a sharp yelp struck his ears. He stiffened and whipped around in time to see a hunter finishing a swish of his sword through the air. Warriors sailed away from it and toward Legend, black and white feathers fluttering in his wake. He hit the ground in a crumpled heap and fell still. Blood roared in Legend’s ears. He hobbled towards him, knee burning fiercely.

A shout rang in his ears, the beast having successfully rammed one of the hunters and sent him flying. Another scrambled to get away from its rampage. The third strode toward Warriors’ motionless form. Legend quickened his pace, desperate to reach the captain first. The hunter moved faster than Legend, sword drawn and raised to strike. A fresh wave of adrenaline rushed through Legend, pushing the pain of his knee to the fringes of his awareness. He broke into a sprint, head pounding with each step. He reached Warriors in the nick of time, scooping the bird up off the ground in one hand and wrenching his sword up with the other. The hunter’s sword crashed against his, sending a jolt through his arm. He shoved the hunter’s blade back to give himself enough room to stagger a few steps away. He half-turned away from the hunter, keeping one arm curled around Warriors to hold him against himself. Chest heaving, he lifted his sword defensively between him and the hunter.

The hunter gave a rough, exasperated sigh, hand tightening around his sword. Only then did Legend register him to be the hunter he’d followed. “You are way too much trouble, kid.”

Legend scowled and lifted his sword a hair higher. The man lunged. Legend stepped to the side to dodge the first swing. He kept Warriors hugged to his chest as he returned the blow, careful to keep his body turned so the man couldn’t hit the bird. The hunter pressed the attack, forcing Legend back. Each step reminded Legend of his wounded knee. He struggled to ignore the burning pain, but he’d been ignoring it for over an hour. Not even the adrenaline could repress it very much anymore. Even so, he sidestepped, parried, attacked. He scored a hit across the man’s arm. The hunter slashed across Legend’s leg in response. Legend darted back from a swing. He unconsciously landed on his bad knee. It gave under him with a sharp ache, sending him stumbling. The hunter leapt forward. Legend tried to recover, moving while horribly off-balance. His knee twisted beneath him. He fell one way, the hunter’s sword sliced in the other. He felt the blade carve a jagged line along his chest before he felt the pain. He staggered to one knee as a feeling of fire burst from the wound, licking at the harsh edges in his flesh.

The hunter followed up with another attack that Legend narrowly blocked on its path to his throat. He followed the force of the blow onto his side, sending the hunter stumbling from the lack of resistance. His shoulder collided with the ground and he swung. The tip of his sword tore deep gashes across the man’s shins. He shouted, hobbling back. Legend rolled, trying not to crush Warriors, and shoved himself to his feet again. The wound in his chest burned in tandem with his knee. His vision blurred. He bit back a cry, legs feeling cold and farther away from his body than should be possible. He limped through the sensation, sword raised in a trembling hand.

The man recovered and charged forward again, albeit more unsteadily than before. Legend watched the swing come toward him, moonlight glinting off the blade. He skipped to the side at the last second, pushing all his weight onto his good leg. The man overshot, frantically tried to recover. Legend drove his sword through the man’s side before he could.

Legend wanted to vomit from the sound of flesh and muscle giving way to his blade. The hunter gasped wetly. Legend yanked his sword free before he could think about it. The hunter screeched, curling around the wound and collapsing to the ground. A shaky exhale passed across Legend’s lips as the man writhed weakly, groaning in pain. He unconsciously tightened his hold on Warriors as he lifted his sword again. He only glanced at the man once to aim before plunging the blade through the man’s heart to put him out of his misery.

He took a short breath and forced his focus elsewhere, turning away from the body. The pain of all of his wounds combined gave him a very easy distraction. He abruptly found himself on his knees, face screwed tight as fire danced through his body. Shakily, he lowered Warriors to the ground. The captain stirred weakly and Legend let out a breath of relief. He glanced up just to make sure they weren’t in immediate danger. One of the two remaining hunters lay motionless on the ground some distance away, a couple limbs twisting at odd angles. The beast fully occupied the attention of the last one, the man running every which way to avoid its ferocious attacks. Legend returned his attention to Warriors, reaching toward his neck for his moon pearl. He didn’t know if Warriors could take a potion as a bird or not. But forcing him to change forms when Legend didn’t know his injuries wasn’t a very good option, either. Even so, he pulled the moon pearl from around his neck and reached into his pouch. Better to have both out, just in case. He dug out the potion he’d tried and failed to take earlier, setting it down beside the moon pearl. He pursed his lips, glancing between the two items. Then a particularly sharp pain speared through him.

He hissed, lowering his head into his hands. His chest burned as he lifted his arms, his head ached from the resulting flinch, so did his knee and- goddess he just wanted it to stop. But, of course, he couldn’t drink a potion because his throat hurt too much to even speak, let alone swallow anything. He wearily shifted from his knees to sit down, suddenly so exhausted he thought for a moment he might pass out right then and there. He hesitantly swallowed to test and that nearly sent him into a painful coughing fit.

“Collector?” a voice murmured.

He blinked, forcing his eyes to focus again. Feathers rustled as Warriors shifted on the ground before him. The bird stiffened suddenly, letting out a hiss. Legend reached toward him haltingly, unsure what to do. His eyes darted across Warriors’ form, trying to figure out the issue. Warriors moved like he was trying to sit up and Legend carefully helped him. He’d noticed it when picking him up earlier, but the captain was surprisingly light for being larger than Legend’s head. Then again, Legend had never held a bird before. As Warriors got settled with his talons under him, Legend noticed how his right wing remained splayed out beside him, not folded against his body like the other. Legend found himself staring at it, at Warriors in general. He recognized the kind of bird Warriors had become. A magpie, he thought they were called. They’d roost in trees in his uncle’s orchard sometimes.

“Oh, thank the goddess,” Warriors sighed, looking up at Legend. “When you went over that cliff, I thought…”

Legend pursed his lips and looked away. Before Warriors could say anything else, Legend nudged the potion toward him. Warriors eyed it for a moment, somehow managing to frown despite having a beak instead of a mouth.

“You’re blee-”

Legend didn’t let him finish the thought, shoving the potion toward Warriors. When Warriors parted his beak to speak again, Legend gestured roughly to his throat, gingerly tugging down the collar of his undershirt to more fully reveal the bruises that must have been there. Warriors’ eyes widened.

A shout and loud crack stole their attention. Legend’s head snapped up to see the beast on its knees before a tree, dazed. The last hunter darted out from behind the tree with a laugh. He must have tricked the beast into running headlong into it. As the hunter moved, his gaze fell on Legend and Warriors. His eyes darted across them for a moment before moving behind. His eyes widened then narrowed. He’d seen the body. He started toward them and Legend’s stomach dropped into his gut. He wouldn’t survive another fight. He couldn’t even stand anymore, as his knee sharply informed him when he tried.

“The cork, Collector, help me get out the cork!” Warriors called.

Legend’s gaze darted down to see Warriors unsuccessfully trying to pull the cork out with his beak, only managing to rip chunks of it out. Legend quickly yanked it out with his fingers and tipped it forward. Warriors dipped his head into the bottle, beak snapping as he drank the red potion. He glanced up to see the man having already crossed half the distance toward them.

Warriors yanked his head out of the bottle, gave his wing a couple experimental flaps. Seemingly satisfied, he spun around toward the man, wings spreading to take flight. Before he could, Legend snatched up the moon pearl and pressed it to Warriors’ back. Warriors yelped as his body abruptly stretched and shifted. The little scarf around his neck grew to full size, tumbling down the back of his green tunic. He ended up on his hands and knees, remaining stunned for a moment.

“That works, too,” he said. Then he lunged to his feet, grabbed his sword from its sheath, and charged forward to meet the man.

His gait seemed unsteady, but even so, it could hardly be called a fight. The moment Legend realized Warriors’ victory was inevitable, he slouched down, vision doubling and dimming. Goddess, he was tired. He didn’t realize he’d been tipping to the side until Warriors caught him, calling his nickname. Legend’s eyes fluttered open, Warriors’ concerned expression slowly swimming into focus before him.

“Hey, hey, I don’t have a fairy,” Warriors said, voice echoing slightly. “You have to get up, we need to find the others so they can help.”

Legend started to nod but stopped as his gaze drifted past Warriors. The beast had begun to move again, giving its head a light shake. Legend still held the moon pearl in his hand, fingers tightening around it. He took a breath, struggled to draw himself up with Warriors’ help. He lifted the moon pearl so the captain could see it then pointed toward the beast. Warriors turned to follow the gesture. His eyes widened, stunted words of shock halting on his tongue. Legend gestured with the moon pearl again, tugging on his pink hair when Warriors turned back. Warriors stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Your hair is pink,” he said.

Legend scowled and weakly swatted him. He pointed to the beast again, it now having stood up and turned toward them. He tapped the moon pearl to his hair. He resisted the urge to smack Warriors again. Realization dawned on Warriors’ face.

“It’s human like us,” he murmured. “Is that it?”

Legend bobbed his head only once, his skull pounding too much for anything more than that.

“And this is the item you used to turn me back just now,” Warriors concluded, pointing to the moon pearl. Legend nodded again, more weakly, as the desperate energy that came from trying to make himself understood drained from him.

“Okay.” Warriors dug around in his pouch for a moment before withdrawing a roll of bandages. He held them out to Legend, the other hand also held out palm-up. “I’ll go change him back. You put pressure on the cut in your chest in the meantime. We don’t need you losing any more blood.”

Legend dropped the moon pearl into Warriors’ waiting palm and took the bandages. Warriors lingered until Legend began to unroll them before nodding curtly and hurrying toward the beast. As Legend slipped the bandages through the tear in his tunic to press against his chest, he watched Warriors speak briefly to the beast. Then he touched the moon pearl to the beast’s forehead. Hooves morphed to hands and feet, fangs receded, the head narrowed, and soon enough, a very tired-looking bearded man knelt in the beast’s place. He blinked, lifting his hands and turning them over before his eyes. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he chuckled in relief. He looked up, firmly grasping Warriors’ hand in thanks. Then he pointed toward the other cages. Warriors gave a nod, leaving the man in order to go open the cages. Legend counted the beasts that Warriors freed and his heart sank. Only five or six. Dozens more had been reported missing from the town.

As Warriors transformed the others back into humans, the first man staggered to his feet and made his way over to Legend. Legend watched in a sort of daze as the man approached him, half his focus going toward keeping himself upright, the other half trained on keeping the bandages pressed to his bleeding chest.

The man knelt down before him, catching his gaze and holding it. “I can never thank you enough, son.”

Legend blinked. He lifted a hand to flap it weakly. The man chuckled and caught it, holding it much the same as he had with Warriors’.

“No need for modesty,” he said, beard shifting as he smiled beneath it. Even if Legend could speak, he was too tired to formulate any kind of response.

Time slurred as Warriors helped the remaining captives. He returned to Legend, the worry lines in his brow blurry in the collector’s warbling vision. He knelt down before Legend, reaching out again to help steady him. He said something about wrapping Legend’s wounds and Legend just nodded, focus drifting somewhere out of reach and refusing to return to him. He hissed as Warriors wound the bandages more properly around his chest. The captain stood and asked him something at some point, but Legend couldn’t quite hear him anymore. The lack of response apparently answered his question, the captain kneeling back down. He gently grabbed Legend’s wrists and turned around, guiding Legend’s arms around his neck. Somewhere in the back of Legend’s mind, he thought he should protest, but the exhaustion outweighed his shame by a long shot. He shuffled forward as much as he could, so, hardly at all. Warriors made do, reaching for Legend’s legs. His hand closed around Legend’s knee and Legend hissed, pressing his forehead to the back of Warriors’ neck. Warriors’ said something, his hand shifted higher so it didn’t grip Legend’s knee. Then he stood.

The change in equilibrium filled Legend’s head with vertigo. He closed his eyes, fighting back nausea. Gravity bounced slightly as Warriors began to walk. Legend felt vaguely aware of the small group of people they’d saved walking with them. But with his eyes closed, the exhaustion leapt forward and clung to him like sap. He thought he heard Warriors saying that they’d find the others, they’d be okay. He sagged against Warriors’ back with a sigh. He couldn’t really open his eyes again anyway, the exhaustion easily winning the half-hearted fight. He trusted Warriors’ words and finally let himself drift away into sleep.

[pareidolla]

hello.

can you tell me what your biggest gripes normally are when people write broken?

like, I get the feeling that there's a fine line between "adorable pathetic sopping wet cat" and "annoying pathetic sopping wet cat" and I personally find Broken in the former. but I cannot really tell what the line is.

I have written Broken before and not to self promo but here is the link in case anyone is curious; like it got positive reviews for the most part. Still, would be nice to know.

hello dearie!! i'm so flattered you asked ♡

i did write this little post about broken a few months ago, and i'd like to first reiterate that i don't want to be labeled an arbiter of broken characterization or anything similar. one thing i admire about the stp fandom is how we all contribute our own distinct flavor to the characters, and i don't want anyone to feel like they're writing broken incorrectly simply because it differs from my interpretation. if i ever were to write a broken fanfic then his voice would be completely off (i just can't help but make him act cute!! he's just an anime girl to me!!!!) so honestly don't place too much stock in my opinions.

with that being said — i'd say my biggest gripe when it comes to depicting broken is when he's pathetic, flat-out, without any rhyme or reason to his actions. he can't perform basic actions, he cowers away regardless of who he's interacting with, and yammers away about giving up just because.

for anyone struggling with writing broken, i think you should first and foremost understand his motivations. ironically, tower is a great place to start here!

one could argue smitten and broken could have switched princesses, with smitten accepting the princess's nature as a world-ending divinity and broken's mirror image being someone equally hollow. except, that's not what either of them desires. smitten wants be the perfect knight in shining armor who whisks away the princess on horseback, and broken?

its easy: once you let her in, you'll be safe forever.

she doesn't want to hurt us. she's just doing what she has to.

what's the point of fighting if she's just going to win everytime? it hurts being sliced to pieces.

broken's main desire is to be safe. you ultimately gain him by failing to be a hero: giving up, expressing hesitance in a key moment, or fruitlessly struggling against a power so much greater than you. as a result, his princess, his love, appears not as a horrific creature, feral beast, or vicious demon, but as a a goddess, someone capable of protecting him.

think of tower less as the dommy-mommy broken was so incredibly horny for he cut his own throat just to kiss her feet, and more as a hurricane. a force of nature which tore apart his home, showed him the frailty and meaninglessness of his life, then offered him both meaning and shelter within her eye of storm—as long as he gives his body to her. which is ideal for broken because it restores the control he's lost by, ironically, offering it to someone else. if he is obedient and lovely and grovel then his savior will take pity on him and he will never suffer again.

to return to my main gripe, if we understand broken desires safety and fawning is his trauma response, then we should know it obviously wouldn't be triggered by every little thing, especially in a controlled environment.

for instance, if broken was invited to a game night with the boys then he's not going to be sobbing pathetically in the corner like a child. he is, and i cannot express this enough, a grown adult man. there are several approaches to writing this—personally, i'd have him decline the invitation outright, muttering excuses about being too busy and he'd sour the mood anyway. if wrestled into it then he'd sit quietly, trying not to take up too much space or attract attention, and then fudge a game once or twice to keep the others happy. ultimately, he doesn't care about winning, and just wants to avoid any fights.

having said that, being conflict-averse does not imply cowardice. broken is a hater, and i love that about him. he's very empathetic and gentle and sweet and the perfect boyfriend, yes, but he's so fucking sassy it's amazing. broken may shy away from conflict but there are several scenes where he expresses his disbelief over how unusual the other voices all are, bickers with them, or straight-up insults them in their face.

like, i'm chill with interpretations where broken secretly admires the voices and aspires to do better, especially post-para apotheosis, but most of the time he hates their fucking asses. he wholeheartedly believes he is the only normal person in a sea of freaks. a caged bird watching as the other birds fling themselves against a glass window. yes, he is a pitiful little sheltered pet who let's out a sad whine every few minutes but please he still has his teeth!!

phew. okay this got too long. uhm! i don't really know how to end this ♡♡♡ i will say i did like your fic! i've been starved for non-wholesome smitbroken look at those boys enabling eachother. if anyone else is reading this, please go forth and create your own broken fic; i will read and i will enjoy it. this is a threat.

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

Part 4

"I'm leaving"

After that night, nothing was the same.

I had thought I was in control—thought that I could keep this secret, this dangerous attraction to Ghost, buried deep within me. But every time I closed my eyes, his presence consumed me. Every time I walked through the halls of the hospital, my mind was torn between pretending to be the dutiful wife and wanting to give in to the man who had marked me, body and soul.

Ghost and I began meeting in secret. Every stolen moment, every whispered conversation behind closed doors, was more electrifying than the last. He never pushed me for more, but the tension between us grew each time we saw each other. He never asked about my life, my marriage, yet it was clear from his actions that he wasn’t looking for anything casual.

At night, I would sneak out to meet him in dark, hidden corners of the city, away from the prying eyes of my husband. We never went to the same place twice, never lingered long enough to be seen. But when I was with him, I forgot everything else. There were no responsibilities, no obligations. There was only *us*.

And when I kissed him—when his hands roamed my body, when his lips devoured mine—I felt wanted in a way I hadn’t in years.

But then came the day I was dreading.

I was sitting at my desk, going through the usual paperwork, when my phone buzzed. It was a message from Ghost:

*I’m leaving.*

I stared at the screen, my heart skipping a beat. There was no explanation, no detail. Just those three words.

I quickly typed back: *When? Where? Why?*

A few moments later, another message appeared:

*Mission. Can’t say more.*

My chest tightened.

I had known this moment would come. The man who lived a life so dangerous, so full of secrecy and risk, couldn’t stay in one place for long. But that didn’t make it any easier.

I slipped out of my office, my pulse hammering in my ears as I made my way to the emergency exit. We’d always met in the shadows, but this time, it felt different. I needed to see him before he left, needed to know that this—whatever it was—was real.

As I rounded the corner near the hospital’s back parking lot, I spotted him leaning against his motorcycle, waiting for me in the dim light. The mask, that damned skull mask, hid his face as always, but I could see the stiffness in his posture, the tension that radiated off him. He was waiting for me to say something.

“I got your message,” I said, my voice trembling despite my efforts to stay calm.

He nodded, not offering a smile, just a simple acknowledgment.

“I don’t want you to go,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

His blue eyes met mine, unreadable yet filled with something I couldn’t quite decipher. “It’s not about what we want,” he said, his voice gruff, like he was struggling with the words. “It’s about what I have to do.”

I stepped closer, my heart aching. “I… I don’t want this to end, Ghost. I don’t want you to leave.”

He pushed off from the motorcycle, his hand reaching for me. The moment his fingers brushed my skin, I felt a heat surge through me, but it was different this time. There was a certain finality in his touch. He wasn’t just pulling me close; he was marking me, reminding me of the boundary we couldn’t cross.

“You knew this wasn’t forever.” His voice softened, but there was still that edge, that command in his tone. “I never promised you anything. This was always meant to be temporary.”

“I know…” I whispered, feeling the sting of reality cut through the fantasy I’d let myself fall into.

He cupped my cheek gently, his thumb tracing the outline of my jaw. His touch was both tender and possessive, like he was memorizing the feel of me before he left. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured. “You always are.”

I nodded, my throat tight.

“I’ll be back,” he said, though it sounded more like a warning than a promise.

I reached up, my fingers brushing his mask. He didn’t pull away, just stood there, letting me touch him in my own way.

For a long moment, we just stood there, a silent understanding passing between us. The world felt like it was on pause.

And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, his boots echoing in the night as he climbed onto his motorcycle and vanished into the darkness.

I stood there for what felt like hours, my heart heavy, my mind consumed with the reality of what had just happened.

And then I remembered—I still had a life to return to. A husband, a routine. And I knew, deep down, that when Ghost left, part of me would go with him.

Part 5

[nxzz-skz]

Bound by contract (a bangchan x reader series)

Chapter 5

ᯓ★arranged marriage between nonidol!bangchan and fem!reader

ᯓ★ warnings: slight angst

ᯓ★ note: send an ask or comment to be added to my taglist!

chapter 4- masterlist - chapter 6

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The air in the room felt heavier than ever. Bang Chan stood a couple feet away from you, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions you couldn't quite place - regret, guilt, and something else you weren't able to name.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the kitchen counter like it was the only thing keeping you upright. He wants to talk to me now? After all this?

"Go ahead," you said, your voice slicing through the silence like a dagger. "Talk."

He pressed his lips into a firm line, hands shoved into his pockets like it would somehow ground him. His gaze was sharp, unwavering. This wasn't the cool, distant man you'd been married to for the past few months. This was someone else entirely.

"I know you didn't take the file," he admitted, his voice quiet but firm. "I know it was Minho."

"Congrats," you said bitterly, your tone laced with venom. "You finally came to your senses. Too bad its a bit too late."

He flinched slightly, eyes flickering with something that looked like pain. "I should've known," he said quietly. "You have every right to be mad."

"Mad?" You scoffed, pushing yourself away from the counter and stepping towards him. "Mad doesn't even begin to cover it, Chan." You jabbed a finger into his chest, not caring about how hard you did it. "You didn't just accuse me - you made me feel like a criminal in my own home. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

He didn't move. He didn't argue back. He just stood there, head down, letting you unload every ounce of anger you'd been holding back.

"You think I don't notice the way you look at me? Like I'm some burden you were forced to carry? And now, after everything, you want me to just...listen to you?" Your voice wobbled on the last word. Damn it. You hated how much it pained you to say it out loud.

Chan's face softened as he stepped forward, slow and careful like you were a wild animal about to bolt.

"You're right," he said, his voice no louder than a whisper. "You're right, Y/N." He looked down at his hand, expression looking as if he hated the sight of them. "I never gave you a chance. I just...I though if i kept you at a distance, I'd be able to control everything. Control myself. But...I think I was wrong."

Control himself? The words hung in the air like smoke, thick and suffocating.

"What...what do you mean?" you asked, your eyes narrowing.

He let out a soft but empty laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I mean that you scare me Y/N." His eyes met yours, unguarded for once. Raw. "You're unlike anyone I've ever met. And I don't know what to do about that."

Your heart twisted, your breath hitching in your chest. He's scared? He's the one who's scared?

"Don't turn this on you, Chan," you said, exhaustion now clear in your voice. "I've done everything I can to be patient with you. I've tried. So damn hard. But if you're just going to keep shutting me out all the time, then maybe we're wasting each other's time."

He stepped forward, even closer than before, close enough for you to feel the warmth of him. His hand hovered near yours, hesitant, like he wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch you.

"Then don't give up on me," he said quietly. "Not yet."

Don't give up on me.

You didn't have a response. At least, not one that you could say out loud.

So you stayed silent.

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

The following days were… unusual.

Chan didn’t leave for work as early as usual. He stayed for breakfast. It wasn’t much, just him sipping coffee at the kitchen island while you ate toast, but it was something. His phone didn’t buzz as much either, and when it did, he actually ignored it.

He wasn’t saying much, but his actions spoke louder than words

“Do you have a plan?” you asked one morning, breaking the silence.

He glanced up from his coffee, confused. “For what?”

“For Minho,” you replied, giving him a pointed look. “He framed me, he’s probably sabotaging you from the inside, and you’re just sitting here drinking coffee like it’s a Sunday brunch.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his lips. “I didn’t realize you were so strategic.”

“I didn’t realize you were so slow,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.

His grin grew wider. “Fair enough.”

You set your mug down, locking eyes with him. “I want in.”

His grin vanished. “What?”

“You heard me,” you said, leaning forward on your elbows. “If we’re going to take him down, I’m going to be part of it.”

Chan shook his head. “No. It’s too dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” You laughed, leaning back in your chair. “Minho’s already made me a target, remember? I’m already in danger, thanks to you.” Your eyes didn’t waver. “I’m done sitting on the sidelines, Chan.”

His gaze lingered on you for a long, long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “If that’s what you want, then we do this together.”

๋࣭⭑────୨ৎ────⭑๋࣭

ᯓ★ Reblogs appreciated!

ᯓ★ taglist:

ᯓ★ perm taglist: @cafffeineconnoisseur @skzbiasot8 @candyquokka @idiotmaterial

[adashulaz]

Soren didn't remember falling asleep. He remembers falling and hitting his back but not falling asleep. So when he woke up, he was confused. Soren stared at the ceiling, trying to process what was going on. He couldn't feel his legs or his left hand. Soren also noticed that he couldn't see out of his right eye. That's when he heard someone move next to him. Soren turned his head and saw Corvus.

The man was sitting on the floor and leaning against the cot he was laying on. Corvus had one arm stretched out, right next to Soren, while his other hand held onto it. His arm bent in a way that allowed him to use it as a pillow. Soren smiled a bit at the sight, the other man looked at peace. Soren turned onto his side, moving his legs so his back wasn't bent in half. Soren grabbed Corvus’ hand, his arm on top of Corvus’ arm.

Soren pressed his cheek against the back of Corvus’ hand, holding their joined hands close. Corvus’ hand was warm against his skin, Soren found it to feel nicer than he could ever imagine. Soren melted into Corvus’ warmth and relaxed. Soren hummed when he felt Corvus shift slightly. “Soren?” Corvus’ voice was laced with sleep, his eyes full of exhaustion and relief. Soren rubbed his cheek against the back of Corvus’ hand.

“Hey.” Corvus sat up properly at the word, moving closer to Soren. Soren hummed when Corvus used his free hand to push back some of his hair. Soren smiled when Corvus rested his free hand close to the top of Sorens head, messing with his hair. “Hey.” Corvus’ voice was light, soft.

“How are you feeling?” Soren stared at the other man, a small smile forming. Corvus only raised a brow, his face full of amusement. “Bored and like my legs fell off. Did they fall off?” Corvus shook his head at the question. Soren hummed at the action.

“They're still there, the doctors said that you're just paralyzed from the waist down. Something about how it has to do with how you landed when you fell.” Corvus brushed his thumb against Sorens scalp. Soren simply stared, he was paralyzed again. Corvus didn't seem to mind, he just seemed more relieved that Soren was awake now. “I'm so glad you're alive, I thought I lost you.” The words were quiet, barely audible.

Soren only let out a small huff of amusement. “Well you'll be glad to know that I'm planning to stay by you until the end of time then.” Corvus smiled, moving closer. Soren mimicked the action as best as he could. “I'm glad.” Corvus closed the little space left between them, pressing their foreheads together.

Soren hummed at the action. He let go of Corvus’ hand to brush his knuckles against his cheekbone. Corvus brought his newly freed hand closer to Soren, his thumb brushed against Sorens lip. “I'm glad you're alive too.” Corvus smiled, his eyes soft. Soren brought his hand down to Corvus’ neck, messing with his scarf.

“I wasn't planning on leaving your side either, you're stuck with me just as much as I'm stuck with you.” Soren couldn't help but smile at the words. His thumb brushed against Corvus’ jaw. “I'm glad.” They fell into a silence at those words.

It was peaceful. It didn't make Soren feel like he was being suffocated. Corvus made the silence peaceful. The other made everything peaceful. Even as they fought the Cosmic Council alongside Aaravos, Soren felt at peace when he was near Corvus. He hopes Corvus feels the same way. But with how close Corvus was, Soren could feel Corvus’ every breath, he's assuming he does.

It doesn't help that Corvus moved impossibly closer. Soren responded by putting his hand on the back of Corvus’ head. Soren enjoyed this, being so close to Corvus. “Soren.” Corvus said his name like it was a precious prayer. It made Soren feel warm all over. Soren simply pulled Corvus closer as he moved his head slightly, angling himself a bit. Their lips were hovering over each other. “Corvus.” Corvus glanced at his lips.

Soren swallowed his nerves as he pulled Corvus closer. Corvus held his face as their lips were millimeters away. The door suddenly opened and it caused them to pull away from each other. The others stood there, eyes wide. “Uhm are we interrupting?” Rayla broke the silence. Soren let out a groan as he moved to his back and threw his arm over his eyes.

“You guys couldn't have waited one more minute?” Sorens face felt hot. He could hear as Corvus let out an awkward cough before standing. “Is something wrong?” Soren moved his arm from his eyes in order to sit up on his elbows.

“Well we were going to see if Soren is up but it seems you had that covered Corvus.” Ezran smiled as Bait let out a croak. Soren noticed the look of slight irritation on Claudia's face. “Well I'm up.” He gave a weak smile.

“Clearly, you and Corvus were about to swap spit.” Claudia crossed her arms as she pouted. Her eyes quickly turned to Corvus as she pointed a finger at him. “You could've told us before trying to make out with him, you know. Or at least me since he's my brother.” Soren glanced at Corvus. The man looked slightly embarrassed.

Sometimes he really wished that the others didn't care for him so much. He really wanted to kiss Corvus. “Well I didn't get the chance since you guys barged in, thanks for ruining the moment.” Soren let out a small whine when he saw Claudia smack his leg. “Soren!” Soren rolled his eyes at her with a pout of his own.

“I stand by what I said, so either you guys leave or I make out with Corvus in front of you.”

[rutlancecf]

YOU WHAT ...!!!

A few hours later, Bruce and his faithful butler, Alfred Pennyworth, returned to the mansion. First they went to see Grayson in the prison, first to find out his current situation and then to tell him about the state of health of his two younger brothers. After taking more than twenty minutes to calm him down, he promised him that he would do everything possible to get him out of there with his name cleared, and that he would keep him up to date on the health of his brothers.

Fortunately, both Jason and Tim Drake would only be under observation at Gotham General Hospital for one night. Jason only had a few scrapes and a mild concussion from jumping off the motorcycle he was riding to avoid being crushed. And Tim had been accidentally pushed off the stairs by a pair of students who were running, only managing to get a fracture in his right ankle. Which he could have avoided if he wasn't walking in his sleep.

So the only thing Bruce Wayne wanted at that moment was to have a comfortable dinner and sleep until the next morning, without any worries...

- Father.-

Oh no. He looked up surprised. He had forgotten about his youngest son. Damian.

- Damian.-

From the posture of his biological son, Bruce knew that a catastrophe was coming, which he did not want to deal with. He was tired, worried about the situation of the rest of his boys, he just wanted to eat and sleep.

*PAS*

A recently closed door made him realize that there was one more person.

- Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne! - The newcomer greeted very cheerfully.

- Jon.- He smiled very barely, while trying to remember if his son had mentioned anything about his visit.- Good afternoon.-

- Ahem, now that they've exchanged pleasantries.- Damian took out a folder and handed it to his father, while taking his best friend's hand.- Instead of getting into a useless conversation, I'll make it clear that approximately an hour and a half ago.- He looked at the watch on his wrist.- Jonathan and I have formalized and consummated our marriage through civil means.-

To say that his jaw dropped to the floor was an understatement. He looked at his 16-year-old son, whose stage of rebellion began since his childhood, then he reviewed the documents, finding them in order (and therefore, legal and legitimate), to finally look in disbelief at the friend of his headache, of barely 13 years old.

Who took a couple of steps back from that look, and got nervous to play with his index fingers.

- Dami told me that he would give me a box of instant noodle soup if I said yes.- The youngest Kent justified himself.- Am I in trouble? -

There was only one question running through the man's head.

Why?

- Father, given your insistent reminder about the limits of my actions in this your house, I have chosen to comply with one of the clauses that you imposed: be of legal age, or change my marital status from single to married.- The newlywed then responded, to the silent question.

- We brought you some cake! - Jonathan spoke out of nowhere, who didn't seem to be reading the mood of the room.- Dami wanted coconut, but the lemon one was delicious.- He let go of Damian's hand to head to the kitchen.- In fact, I'm going to eat a little more.-

Once they were alone, Bruce could only say one thing, which expressed everything he had inside.

- DAMIAAAAAAAAAAN!-

Moments later, an ambulance pulled away from Wayne Manor.

- Do you think your dad will be okay, Damian?- Kent asked, somewhat worried.

- Yes, don't worry, Habibi.- He took his hand and kissed it.- Now go back to your house and go to sleep. See you tomorrow.-

- Okay.- He took flight and waved goodbye.- See you tomorrow, Dami!-

- Don't forget to brush your teeth.-

~*~BONUS~*~

The next day both families met to discuss the current situation of their minor children. Of course, if that's what you can call the cat-and-dog fight between Bruce Wayne and Lois Lane.

- Lois, Bruce. Wouldn't it be better to calm down?-

- SHUT UP CLARK/SMALLVILLE!- The two yelled at him.

The aforementioned just shrunk in his seat, watching as they continued to yell at each other. While Alfred stood next to where Damian was sitting, with a tray of tea.

- Are you enjoying the show, young master Damian?-

- It's a family reunion, Pennyworth.- He responded while bringing a cup of tea to his lips.- The first of many more.-

Jonathan, who was devouring some cookies, turned around and whispered quietly to his husband.

- What show are you talking about?-

[alicethenobody]

OMG SAME 100% FACTS TRUE i fucking hate how the dmc fans online keep making the same repetitive unfunny dante in debt jokes while being more empathetic towards both nero and vergil. like dante tends to have isolation habits or isolate himself from others to protect others, that's a common trope in fiction in general (especially japanese fictional stories but some western stories like The Boys or Spiderman has this trope too). These people are actually fucking stupid sometimes. Not to mention without Dante - Vergil and Nero wouldn't exist in the series. I'm also glad I'm not the only one who thinks Dante is one of the more realistic responses to trauma I've seen.

The way the DMC fanbase treats my boy Dante sometimes also reminds me of how the Tekken community treats my man Jin Kazama (especially on websites like reddit, twitter, and the YouTube comments section). They always show more empathy towards his father Kazuya (who is very similar to Vergil and Sasuke, man loses his family and goes down a dark path obsessed with power. also is the father of another character but is absent in their child's life) and Heihachi (who is literally just evil...like dude fucking killed his own wife, his own father, Michelle's father, Lidia's father, Leroy's entire family. dude unleashed shrek and killed innocent people.). Yet they mock Jin's mental health issues of survivor's guilt and low self esteem and make shitty jokes at his expense a lot. Jin lived a peaceful humble life with his mother Jun until Ogre attacked and Jin wanted to defeat Ogre to avenge his mother and also avenge the other fighters who were hurt by Ogre (ex. Hwoarang's master, King's adopted father). Then Heihachi who Jin trusted for years just betrays him by almost killing him via being shot multiple times. Then Jin finds out he was born with the Devil Gene thanks to his dad and has a hard time controlling it. His father Kazuya only cares about power and wants to kill Jin to get the rest of the Devil Gene for himself and Kazuya mostly cares about revenge against Heihachi. Most of the terrible shit in his life is out of his control. Like Dante, Jin also isolates himself from others out of fear his devil gene might hurt them or they might get dragged into the problems of the dysfunctional Mishima bloodline he's trying to end.

It also doesn't help that the creators of Tekken also lowkey hate Jin Kazama too, Harada blatantly stated in multiple interviews that he prefers villainous characters (ex. Heihachi aka Harada's favorite character), and Harada always wanted Jin to be a villain like his precious Heihachi Mishima but the team disagreed at first for obvious reasons (there are already too many bad guys/morally grey characters in Tekken, Jin is supposed to be the good mishima bloodline member he is supposed to be the good guy who doesn't let his trauma or family history make him bad, and it'd just be a repeat of Kazuya's story). Then Harada also assassinated Jin's character and made him OOC in Tekken 6's shitty scenario campaign story. Jin's potrayal in Tekken 6 completely contradicts his characterization in the older games (especially his Tekken 4 ending) and Jin is just out of character in that game, but the fanbase are usually idiots who don't realize that. So the fans bash Jin even more, and oh don't get me started on all the horrible fanfiction on ao3 where Jin gets r*ped by multiple characters because he hasn't suffered enough.

Both Dante and Jin deserve better, i hate it here it's always my favs are cursed lmao. (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

YEAAAH like I’m sorry but I think people are so overly critical of his actions in DMC5. I’m always gonna be of the belief he did nothing wrong in that game except for not telling Nero Vergil was his dad but he had reasons for not telling him like… the fact that he was afraid of cursing Nero with the same life he was living if he got too closely associated with either twin. And the fact that Nero most likely wouldn’t believe him (which Dante himself said) unless he had definitive proof for him. Dante is a man weighed down by the responsibility of protecting all of humanity, something any other person would completely crack under. So he thinks he can only let people in a certain amount or else they could get hurt. It happened many times, after all. Like I’d understand the criticisms of his behavior if he acted like a toxic asshole the whole time but… he really doesn’t. At worst he’s said something insensitive a couple times which… who hasn’t done that in their life and he felt bad about it both times it happened lmao (when he upset Nero in 5 and when he accidentally made Patty cry in the anime. Like he was actively miserable the entire episode because of it.) I’ve read such a weird amount of posts bashing Dante or fanfics that do the same.

Btw I’ve never played Tekken but that sounds shitty :(

[missedmilemarkers]

Hi again!! Figured that since you were technically open to any question, I want to hear your thoughts or views on this. I'm not sure if I could message you (because I'm very awkward and I can't exactly hold a conversation based on small topics) But, how do you feel about choosing something practically over passion? This question has always plagued me ever since it was brought up during class, and it provoked to me how practically was always chosen over passion as it would technically "help" them more than pursuing their passion.

Was choosing tech for you a more practical choice or were you passionate about it? I don't want to sound rude over this question, but it only occurred to me when you mentioned that you were working in a field that is quite more on the technical side. Do you see it as something similar to an art form as you develop products that could help improve lives tremendously? Or is it just a job that you expect to pay good?

(P.S Sharing these photos I took some time ago, I believe it was last year and it was submitted for a class. Hope you enjoy them as well! Not as much sun as the last one though)

First off. Before going into any of the content of this post. THAT GIANT SNAIL IS SOO COOL! I just recently found out that they exist and was just amazed by the size of them. GREAT PICTURE!!!

Alright lets unpack the content of this ask.

TLDR:

You got this I believe in you. Stand tall and proud and go for whatever your heart and head want. If they disagree pick one and evaluate later. Even if your heart and head dont know that is OK as the story of your life unfolds the path will become clear. If you are honest you can always move with confidence and never lose a moment of sleep.

I am choosing to dive deep into this again for a few different reasons. The reason I am doing this you are at a moment in time which you perceive to be important (final exams, deciding about life etc etc etc). The unfortunate thing is this moment is no more important then any other you will experience. All it is would nothing more then a "MileMarker" which you will use for evaluation later in life. That does not mean its not important. All that means is every decision you made every action you took got you to the moment you are in RIGHT NOW. So dont worry no matter your choice you will always make the right decision. Even if its wrong you will always gain insight and that insight will always lead to success if passion is applied.

how do you feel about choosing something practically over passion?

I am not sure if there is exactly a correct answer for this one. If there is I think the best one would be do whatever makes you happy, and the only way to find out what makes you happy is to try. One thing I have learned is sometimes money or love is not enough. One can have all the money in the world and be miserable. Same goes for love. One could be loved by the world and be empty inside. That answer is kind of B.S. for someone that is seeking input. With that being said I will go over some of my experiences. My very first job was at an auto mechanic shop. I used to love working on cars. I would spend my weekends doing it. I would hang out with my friends and all have a great time. So i figured it would be a good choice to work as a mechanic. So I went and got that job. I worked it for about 5 years. At the end of it I never wanted to work on cars again. To this day I will not even change my own oil because I hate it so much. Am I upset it turned out that way? Not at all. Life is all about the experience nothing more nothing less. That lesson for me was finding out what I did not like in life and was just as important in my journey as knowing what I liked. At the end of my mechanic experience I figured I should just go be a garbage man. I would get the same blue jump suit but instead of the trash coming to me I would go to the trash. Really all we can do is to try. There is no wrong answer. Even if one makes a choice and find out its wrong for you that is OK.

Was choosing tech for you a more practical choice or were you passionate about it? "Neither and both"

The reason I brought up the above being a mechanic. If i did not want the same thing to happen on my outlook of computers as it did for mechanics. It was because of this I did not get into tech. I loved it so much I did not want to risk ever hating it. So that is passion but born of practicality based on what is important to me and only me. This is was dictated by my previous experiences and not wanting to have any regret in life. More on this: I have always been interested in computers and tech. I grew up in a very poor household. We only ever had exactly what we needed and nothing more. My childhood was amazing. Yea at the time I wanted more but after I got older and realized how the world was I landed on the outlook of "I could not have asked for more and it was amazing even though it was viewed bad at the time". One of my best friends growing up his family was very rich. It was through him that I was able to get access to technology. From that my obsession was born. I loved tech so much I avoided it professionally because i did not want the same thing to happen as did with mechanics. Then one day just purely by happenstance a neighbor offered me a job. I decided at that moment you know what try it. Why not, I now knew the signs of when i might start to hate it. so why not. We can never have any form of regret. So at that first job I literally ran around a call center unplugging and plugging back in headsets. Was this something that made a difference in this world. No, was it something that I found great internal satisfaction. No. At this point did it provide me financial security. NO IT SURE DID NOT! It was until many years went by to get a chance to shine. When that moment came I was ready and I crushed it. From that moment it was all different. I gained both functional and passion in my career with huge paychecks. But you know what, none of that matters now. The only thing it provides is a story for others of my personal experience. None of it means anything right now and clearly I cannot seem to pay the bills. That is ok. I would not change my situation, the outcomes, my choices or or any aspect of how i got to this moment right now. As long as I continue to try, learn and adapt I will find my way. However none of that will happen if I never take steps on my own and try with every fiber of my being each day.

how practically was always chosen over passion as it would technically "help" them more than pursuing their passion.

Based on that statement I feel how you are looking at this in the wrong context. That statement is taken from the third person. You need to have it worded something more like this. how practically was always chosen over passion as it would technically "help" me more than pursuing my passion. The context of that change is huge. Lets take a moment and reflect on that. I bring special attention to this because 1. We can never know what is best for any other person. Its hard enough knowing what is best for ourselves. Its ok to use other peoples stories and experiences as guidance in our own actions and decisions. It should never be our place to dictate what is best for another. We can never know that persons experiences, thoughts, emotions or context. We can offer guidance and feel happy we had an opportunity to share. 2. This now forces an action from the third person to a first person. This logic dictates something must happen. Even non action is an action and should be evaluated later and potentially adjusted. Sometimes non action is the best action. Often times its not though. Its all about that re-evaluation. 3. Experience is the most important thing in life. If you are struck in any form of "I wish I could...", "I always wanted to...", "Why cant i just...", "I don't know what ...". The only way to fix that is to do anything different. If you are frozen in a conversation start with one single word "Hello". If you are struck with any form of indecision just make one that is easier and more open ended. Instead of "I will make a final decision by", change it to "I try to evaluate my choices on", then take some time do a proper evaluation. Ok i wanted to try but i was unable to do that. Its ok that happened what can I do differently to "try anything else" and step with confidence in whatever choice you make. Even if its wrong there is never any regret because you made the best decision for you at the moment. Changing the view from "Observer" to "Doer" is what this context change provides. When an honest action is taken you can always do it with confidence no matter what it is. to Your final question. Money is a sign of a job well done. If you enjoy what you do you never work a day in your life.

In final thoughts: Tomorrow will never come and yesterday is just a story that only you care about. People might want specific things for you but none of that matters. Anyone who truly cares will want your happiness above all else. If that person cant understand that then they are probably not the best person to spend your time with. If you are living in the past you are depressed. If you are living in the future you are anxious. Its all about right now nothing more nothing less. Just smile, be confident and just do what is best for you and no one else. No decisions are final, you are free to change your mind at any time. Its ok not to know. We can never know the story of life through any other way then just living it how we choose. If future you is worried (anxious). Then present you should do something to set that person which don't know but implicitly care about up for whatever that success is defined as such by you. If past you is upset (depressed) about something then future you (currently present) can do something about it and make a change. Even if that change is wrong you can tell past you (depressed) that you tried and ask that person for advise and make adjustments accordingly. As long as you try you will always get exactly what you need. Survival is a very strange thing like that. It always is right up until it is not. The moments of survival in most cases outnumber the moments of conclusion. So dont ever worry the statistics are on your side.

Time is the only thing we never get back. I choose to spend my time happy. My personal definition of happiness has changed many times throughout life (story). Money will come for me as a result of that. So far it has worked out for me. To date I have survived (lived) far more moments then i have concluded (died). The same thing can be said about anyone reading this.

Conclusion: Each time i chose based on passion, One time I lost a passion. The other time I did not. Each time I was able to survive. Each time i gained valuable experience and understanding of who I was. I always succeed because I will always try hard and hopefully learn from my mistakes just enough to be good. I want to be happy in life and If at any moment I am not that is my measuring stick to make some kind of change.

Much like the seasons change is forced.

But we will always find the beauty of tomorrow. Even though we might have suffered a broken arm.

[fandombymanynames]

some season 7 thoughts mostly focusing around the disaster that was Runaan's second trip to Katolis...

buckle up lads, it's gonna be a long one

First of all, do i think Ezran was wrong for locking up Runaan?

absolutely not

This kid just had his entire kingdom burn down and is now staring at the man who killed his dad seemingly but that's another matter. He's allowed to be pissed, and he's well within his rights to arrest Runaan. I was honestly shocked he was the ONLY one acting upset. I thought for sure the second Soren saw Runaan that he'd be drawing steel, since if I remember correctly (and i could totally be wrong, it's been a while since i watched it thru from the beginning, so have mercy), Soren actually fought Runaan while trying to defend Harrow??

So Ezran's actions are not what bother me about the whole plot point. What bothers me is that this is only happening now??? Like, I'm not even convinced Ezran fully knew who Runaan was other than the assassin that killed his dad. Did Rayla ever tell him that's her dad and I just forgot? Did Callum ever tell him 'hey we're trying to free Rayla's dad (the man that killed our dad) from his coin prison that Viren put him in, just a heads up so you can digest that'? That seems like a massive thing to just spring on a person when you've been planning it for several seasons at this point. Couldn't have written him a letter even... smh

And then on top of that...they bring Runaan to Katolis like absolute dumbasses. Like if you're not going to have the decency to warn your brother that you're planning to break Rayla's dad out of coin jail, the least you could do is just let Ezran keep his blissful ignorance and peace on the matter. It was just an objectively stupid move from all three of them (Callum, Rayla, and yes Runaan himself like wait outside my dude). As the saying goes, play stupid games win stupid prizes. Naturally you bring the guy who killed the king to the kingdom...he's gonna get thrown in jail, and it was all perfectly avoidable if they rubbed even two brain cells together.

okay maybe that was a little mean, but it was a stupid thing to do and i hope we can all agree on that.

but it's what happened so we move on to the next domino in this disaster: rayla breaking runaan out.

Was I all for it?

Yes. Let me be very clear, Runaan is my favorite and he and Ethari's reunion was literally the only thing i cared about this season

Was it ALSO a stupid as hell thing to do?

YES

Like you didn't even wait for night?! You're MOONSHADOW ELVES! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS IN BROAD DAYLIGHT????

I wanted to strangle someone.

The only good thing, imo, is that she did tell Callum ahead of time. That's growth! She knew what she felt she needed to do and let him know. And very critically, she did not want him involved because she knew this was going to hurt Ezran and didn't want to put Callum in a position to directly pick her over his brother. It is so clear that Ezran is in turmoil and he deserves to have his brother there with him. Callum SHOULD have stayed with his brother, but they had to be stupid and stage a prison break in broad daylight like absolute bafoons. I just...it's so dumb.

I get that the idea is to not keep Ethari waiting 'one minute longer' than needed, but come on guys. You can still race back to the Silvergrove while taking reasonable precautions to ensure you actually make it back to Ethari alive. I think he'd prefer that actually.

It just all felt contrived for drama, at the cost of characters acting reasonably intelligent especially my man Runaan who's a fully grown adult and should have known better than just walk into Katolis, ffs man critical thinking skills

What's my take away from this long mess? That this should have been a building conflict within our original trio starting from the moment Rayla got the coins and understood what they were. Ezran should have been involved in the discussions on freeing Rayla's parents, especially Runaan. If that's too much to ask for, we should have atleast seen some conflict out of Callum on the matter (Harrow was his dad too). It's a fumbled arc in my opinion, thru and thru

but hey that's just me, just needed to put some thoughts to paper as it were. hopefully this mess makes sense

[thesnazzysharky]

Ranking the specimens based on how tragic they are (1/2)

Been excitingly waiting to do this one. As you can see from the title, we will be ranking the specimens based on how tragic they are. There will be a total of 25 specimens included in this list. Part 1 will be featuring the first 13 and part 2 will feature the other 12. The unknown specimens are excluded since the game doesn't really offer us anything substantial when it comes to their backstories (aside from White Face since he came from a different game, but I haven't played said game yet). Specimen 1 is also excluded because... well... take a grand guess.

How did I go about this ranking exactly? Well, for each specimen I created bullet points for both how they could garner sympathy or lose sympathy from the player. Then I created a tier list and started arranging them from the least sympathetic to the most sympathetic. Taking account of the notes I wrote, what makes this specimen tragic from my own eyes and morals, the hints and implications at something deeper, how detailed some of their backstories go, ect. So that's how I'm going about this. Of course, this is all my own opinion and I'm sure some will disagree with some of my takes or change some placements, which is fine. This list is entirely subjective and if you disagree with something, I would like to hear why. Now let's dive in.

25. Ghost Cow

To nobody's surprise I'm sure, Ghost Cow is at the very bottom of the list for one simple reason: He's pure and utter evil at its core. Ghost Cow is one of the most interesting creatures in the game because unlike a lot of the others we get to directly see the aftermath of what he did. The hospital is not only in a clearly fucked up state when we arrive there, but what we see and what we read are pretty gruesome and gory.

He possessed a bunch of doctors and nurses, forced them to kill their patients, later making them forget how they killed their patients so they can live with the guilt of having done something they didn't do, drove one patient to suicide, most likely killed and experimented on literal infants; and overall has caused a lot of death, pain, suffering, and psychological torture and trauma within the hospital. Even after the hospital is completely brought to ruin, he still finds a way to cause agony within the building. It's implied that most, if not, all of the monsters that we see in the DLC aren't actually in control of their own actions. The cow just used to them to try to attack the player. Like possessing the Body Bag in the morgue or possessing the Hanged Man. The latter clearly being in distress about the whole thing and just wanting his suffering to end. There's also the creation born from his experimentation on an infant rotting down in a basement while presumably being in pain from its state, the guard being a mindless husk and slave to a living virus that I assume is a creation from the cow, and whatever is going on in this room

All of this out of pure and utter sadism it seems with no real end goal. All of this while he wears a twisted smile on his face, clearly enjoying what he's doing. The game makes it clear that there's no sympathy to gain from him.

Yeah... this thing just fucking sucks.

24. Beef Demon

The Beef Demon is similar to Ghost Cow in that the dude is just evil. For starters, he manipulated a business owner looking to save their own restaurant and used said restaurant to his advantage to control others.

He made mind manipulating burgers that basically broke the mind of whoever ate it. Either causing them to order excessive amounts of food or becoming overly violent and aggressive. These burgers are also implied to cause strange nightmares, which is definitely not fun to deal with.

That's already bad enough, but then there's also the fact that he's a very violent entity as stated by CAT-DOS. Kidnapping, possibly torturing, and killing his victims in his own dimension; throwing their remains out a few days later once he gets bored. But the nightmare doesn't even end there for his victims, as he just straight up takes and keeps their souls. Presumably taking these souls down to the pits of Hell or making them succumb to a fate just as bad. He also may or may not have targeted children judging by some hints in the play area. He's clearly made out to be sadistic and enjoys what he's doing. As seen in his death sequence where he lets the protagonist approach HIM instead of the other way around with wide open arms and his taunting reversed lines.

Yeah get this mf out of here.

23. The Clown

The clown is strange in that he doesn't do any harm to the player. He's completely harmless, but doesn't mean he isn't bad. He was a spirit that was summoned from... somewhere... in order to make the dolls of the dollhouse happy. Only for that to backfire due to the dolls being scared shitless by whatever this thing is.

Nobody knows what his deal is, but what we do know is that the clown does seem to have some sort of sadism. He seems aware of how much he scares others and takes pleasure in doing so. Sporting a wide grin on his face, getting closer to the player whenever they turn their back, and occasionally laughing to himself.

No sympathy to gain here either.

22. Bekka

Finally. We're starting to come across some specimens that are a bit less asshole-y. Aside from obviously being inspired by Rebecca Black, not much is known about Bekka herself. We don't how she was created, what her motives are, or if she's worthy of sympathy or not.

The best we can get out of her is her behavior and appearance. Bekka first makes her debut in Karamari Hospital where she decided to steal a page out of Taker's book by catching the player off guard through tricking them into walking down a seemingly endless hallway. She appears again in Endless Mode where she has a very unique mechanic. Instead of chasing behind you like a lot of the other specimens, Bekka instead appears directly in front of you. Popping behind the door that you were planning on going through. Once again, her main way of attacking is catching the player off guard. Leading to some very frustrating chases or loses as many players have expressed.

With her behavior and the constant smile on her face, you could say that Bekka is mischievous or a bit of a trickster in terms of personality. Seemingly having some fun in tricking others and judging by the blood on her hands and dress, she has killed at least one other person. If there's at least one tragic element to her, it's that she was most likely human before she turned into what she is now. Most likely a nurse who worked at the hospital. This isn't confirmed of course, but the main motif with the monsters in Karamari Hospital is that they all are very clearly supposed to resemble humans unlike the specimens prior which were more varied in creatures and designs. Ghost Cow is the exception to this because he's intentionally supposed to stand out and be the outlier. Following this logic, I don't see why Bekka wouldn't have previously been human like all the others. We don't know how she became what she is, but considering all the batshit insane stuff Ghost Cow did, her demise probably wasn't pleasant. And as mentioned earlier, there's a chance that she's simply possessed like the other monsters and isn't in control of her actions.

A lot of things about Bekka are ambiguous or left in the air. And what little we can get out of her imply that she isn't the most well meaning entity. So she gets placed here.

21. Frenzy

Frenzy's death screen implies that she has some sadism within her. Being one of the only specimens in the game to express her sheer excitement of being able to kill and make the player suffer through the use of exclamation marks.

"Frenzied torment, distorted Mind! Blood to spill, bones to grind! The flesh it takes for time to wind Eye for eye makes all turn blind"

At the same time though, she only attacks the player if they don't take care of the doll they're holding. Implying that she has a close relationship to the dolls and cares about their well being.

She also has a very human appearance. A human being that seems to have been burnt from head to toe somehow by the looks of it. So there's some implications there.

Similar to Bekka, not much is known about Frenzy, but what we do have implies she isn't all bad and that there may be some sort of sad story with her origins.

20. Bab

Okay. So here's where things start getting interesting. Bab does have a detailed backstory... to a certain extent.

The problem is trying to figure out WHO Bab is supposed to be. The notes in her locale tell a clear story. Some dumb dumbs in a cult are worshipping some mysterious entity, they fuck up a ritual by sacrificing a girl who wasn't a virgin, said entity becomes pissed at them and their fates are left unknown.

Most assume that Bab is supposed to be the "Mother" entity that is described in the notes. However, one can also easily think that Bab is supposed to be impure girl who was sacrificed. The creature that we currently see being the aftermath of what happened to her after the sacrifice. Or maybe Bab is just supposed to be one of the many entities that Mother sent down to kill the cult members?

It's intentionally ambiguous and her ranking can easily change depending on what you personally believe in. She could be ranked higher if you believe that she was the impure girl. A girl who most likely did nothing wrong and later became a monster. She could be ranked lower if you believe that she was Mother. The notes paint Mother to be a demonic entity of sorts, which obviously isn't good.

There's no concrete answer. So Bab will be placed here.

19. The Mansion Within a Mansion

Should this mansion even count as a living entity? Well... yes actually!

As CAT-DOS states, the "mansion" was born after a massacre or tragedy took place within it. Turning the once regular and ordinary mansion into a paranormal entity. What was this tragedy? We're not sure. Perhaps it has something to do with the skeletons that we can find in this room.

Or maybe it has something to do with this guy hanging by a noose.

Or maybe it's both or a multitude of things. We know that tragedy can be a powerful force within the SJSM universe. For example, ghosts can be born from someone succumbing to a tragic enough fate. So whatever tragic thing happened, it was enough to turn a whole entire building into a paranormal entity. So it must have been REALLY fucked up and gruesome for the victims who were here previously. Not to mention that it's implied in one of the notes in Specimen 12 that the souls of these people are still in the mansion. As the Vlogger/Old Man states that he can hear "movement and voices" below him. So they aren't even able to be at peace.

So what about the mansion itself? It does have some irredeemable qualities to it. Such as purposefully driving its victims insane through psychological torment, leading to their possession and violent behavior, only for it to choose another host when it comes across one and thus killing the last host in the process. Creating a vicious cycle.

Easy to say that the mansion is evil and sadistic, but it's hard to say really considering that it was created from a tragedy. Is it doing this because it's actually evil or is it more so instinct?

Well, if we want to go down the route of the voicelines that hear from the Old Man actually being from the thoughts of the mansion instead of the Old Man himself, then it is implied it possess some form of sapience. One line in particular paints an interesting picture.

"I'm so lonely..."

Looking at this simple line in the context of it being spoken from the mansion, it implies some things.

The mansion is an entity born from tragedy. It never asked to be alive and it most likely lives a sad and miserable existence. It's always looking for a host to attach itself to. For what end goal exactly? Well, maybe it simply has to do with loneliness. The mansion feels lonely and bored and so it tries to have some fun by possessing whoever steps within it. Having a host to latch itself to, only to later use said host in a game of cat and mouse for the other poor soul that wanders into the mansion, said soul then kills the host out of paranoia, becomes the current host, and the cycle repeats. The mansion is a trickster and manipulator. It gives its victims the illusion that they have any chance to escape. Giving them hiding spots. Making the host seem dumb by not making much of an effort to look for the victims. When it reality? That person was already dead the moment that they stepped through the door of the mansion. It draws out these games of cat and mouse because it sadistically takes pleasure from doing so. It's bored. It's lonely. It's miserable. It was born from tragedy after all.

Doesn't excuse its actions obviously, but it lives a pretty sad existence. Both it and the many victims of the tragedy that created it.

So when the Protagonist comes along and is about to become one of the few or perhaps the only one able to escape Specimen 12? The mist in the mansion becomes green.

The color green symbolizing peace, growth, renewal, healing, and some other positive things that could work for this scene. Mostly likely representing the souls inside of the mansion having hope. Hope that the Protagonist will be able to make out it out alive. That maybe, just maybe, the cycle will be put to an end.

Of course, this is all going heavily into theory and speculation territory. Perhaps too much so. Hence why Specimen 12 is only here and not more higher. A lot of stuff about it is up to interpretation and not outright confirmed. It's all still very interesting to think about nonetheless.

18. The Siren

The siren seems like a typical monster at first. The notes in her locale first describe how she kills whales from the inside out to feast on them. Sad and gruesome for the whales, but nothing outright horrible. Maybe she's just doing what she has to do to survive.

Later notes then describe how she killed the staff of the whale researching facility. Purposefully flooding the facility and luring people to their deaths via her singing voice. Manipulating others into going into the sweeping waves.

None of this is great, but CAT-DOS does tell us something interesting about her that garners sympathy. It states that she is a lost soul who tragically died during the "Deluge" as it puts it. A deluge being a severe and overwhelming flood and often they're associated with mythical floods. Which deluge is being referred to specifically, whether it be Noah's Flood or some other mythical flood, is left vague. What matters most though is that she was once a regular human being who tragically died during one of these floods.

If there's one thing to know about floods is that they can be utterly horrifying. Even if you never personally experienced one, just simply looking up images or footage of them will tell you just how scary these natural disasters can be. Massive waves of water suddenly rushing towards you, causing severe damage and destruction in its path, and causing many deaths in the process. Considering that the Siren died during a mythical flood, which are notoriously bad and severe, and even CAT-DOS outright states that she died "tragically", tells you that her death was a horrific one. A fate most likely filled with nothing but sheer paranoia and fear before she passed away. Doesn't excuse her actions later in her life, but you do feel bad about what she has previously went through.

Ultimately the Siren doesn't have a very detailed origin and not much is known about who she was before she died. Which does bring her down a bit. We have enough backstory however that gives us a sad perspective on the Siren.

17. Ben the Merchant

Ben's story is a straightforward yet sad one. A merchant who wanted to put a smile on others faces with his puppets. The puppets in question being looked at fondly and proudly by him considering he calls them his "children".

Due to some jealous shopkeepers however, he would have all his puppets thrown in the river. Putting him in a panic and accidentally drowning himself while attempting to save them. The merchant beginning to drown due to his devotion to his puppets was not the plan the townspeople had in mind. They could've easily saved him.

But instead they let him drown to death due to their own bitterness. What was originally supposed to be an attempt to sabotage another man's business became involuntary manslaughter. A man lost his life for basically no good reason. The result of this? A monster who would kidnap and kill the children of the town. The children who once loved and enjoyed the puppets that the merchant sold started to become puppets themselves.

The monster in question being Ben. But why? Why is he doing this? Well, there's his death screen in the main game.

For awhile, I took this death screen as Ben having a blue and orange morality of sorts. He thinks he's doing you a favor by turning you into a puppet. You don't have to deal with the burden of having to make a choice if you don't have any choices at all. He kidnapped, killed, and turned children into puppets as a strange way of helping them after realizing how cruel and cold the world was after his death. To make them less miserable and more happy.

That's what I thought at first, but then I thought about it some more and realized... no. Ben is just a fucked up dude.

For starters, unlike a lot specimens that are either devoid of personality or have some semblance to it hinted at through vague text or sparse voice lines, Ben is unique in that he shows most of his personality through body language and expressions. Making him the most expressive character in the whole game and thus easier to read on what his deal is.

His ingame poses depict him as taunting and even sadistic. It's made clear by the constant smile on his face that never changes, but it's also clear by some his poses showing him trying to act casual, comically and poorly trying to hide his needle, or extending his hand towards the player; as if trying to beckon them. Not to mention the audible laughing that can be heard in his death screen and occasionally whenever he moves. Further hinting at his twisted nature.

As you can see above, his face will occasionally turn into an angry and aggressive one. Although it could simply just be him showing frustration, it could also be him trying to further scare or intimidate the player.

The disturbing thing about all of this is that he's most likely fully self aware of what he's doing. As his death screen in Dollhouse implies.

This death screen is less vague and more clear. He outright states why he killed the children of his town. No sugar coating, no excuses, no signs of being under some odd delusional goal. He just spills the beans. His "children" drowned so he took the children away from the townspeople as payback. An eye for an eye as they say. He even goes into some disturbing detail about how the children were killed. Silencing them, sewing their bodies up, and drilling out their eyes.

Now the death screen in the main game has become all the more unnerving. Ben is simply trying to manipulate you into thinking that turning into a puppet isn't all bad, but in reality he just wants to turn you into a puppet as replacement for the ones he lost the day he died. You're his plaything and nothing more.

We have a very interesting case on our hands. Ben has a pretty detailed backstory that paints him as this poor and tragic guy who just wanted to make people happy and suffered a depressing death for no good reason due to some assholes. Meanwhile ingame he comes across as this petty, sick, and twisted prick who takes pleasure in tormenting the player and most likely took pleasure in killing those poor kids as well. Having full self awareness of what he was doing, but not caring about in the end. All of that shit, presumably not even because of the loss of his life, but because of some puppets...

You could make the argument that Ben was probably not the most mentally stable individual if his first reaction to losing some puppets was to go on a child murdering spree. He is referred to as a "strange" merchant in the notes and he calls his puppets his "children" and thought that they were "drowning". Going as far as to think his lifeless wooden puppets are in anyway comparable to living, breathing, and human children and that those actual living children should be replacements for his "children".

It's hard to say though. Ben could have also easily been a well meaning, awesome, and chill dude. But the day he drowned, lost his puppets, and saw how truly horrible the world can be to even the most kind hearted people, made something snap within him. The Lucifer Effect. Sometimes all it takes is one bad day and Ben had a really REALLY bad day.

Still a sick and twisted fuck who painfully killed children, but one that you can't help but feel bad for and somewhat understand why he took the path he did.

16. Ringu

At first glance you think Ringu would be placed more lower on the list. The notes in her locale don't really tell us anything about her, her voicelines aren't too noteworthy, and her death screen was... just seen as weird by most people.

Not a whole lot to her it seems. Just another murder monster as most people probably thought. Until you find out about what Kira said about her under one of their posts on Deviantart.

Now everything makes sense and is pretty easy to explain.

Ringu isn't a malicious spirit by any means. She doesn't want to harm you and in fact wants the exact opposite. She wants to protect you and keep you safe. Presumably after she died through unknown circumstances, she became completely delusional. Searching for children to keep "safe". Safe in her belly. Safe from the dangerous outside world. After all, her baby was completely safe there until it popped out of it.

Most of her victims being from school makes a lot of sense in this context. Because that was where all of the vulnerable kids were. To Ringu, those kids were in danger.

Ringu becomes very tragic figure now. Losing an infant, especially one that you've always wanted, is a horrific and damaging thing to go through. As someone who would love to have a kid or two in the future, I can't even imagine how much emotional and psychological damage I would go through if I ever experienced that. It would probably fuck me for a long time. Perhaps for the rest of my life even. Picturing a once human Ringu reacting to something like that is just awful.

The fact that she doesn't even realize what she's doing is wrong and is killing the children she wants to protect in the process is as disturbing as it is sad. She's clearly a caring and empathetic motherly figure. She just goes about it in a completely wrong way.

Hell! This is even alluded to with her original theme! Breakfast Was Too Early (which you can listen to here). Compared to the other chase themes in the game, this one doesn't really feel give off the vibes of "Oh shit! Something's coming after me!" or anything intense or dreadful. It sounds... peaceful and comforting? Like a lullaby that would play for a young child getting ready to go to sleep. That's what it sounds like.

As some have pointed out, the theme sounds like Ringu is trying to calm the player down. As if the theme itself is trying to say "Don't panic. Don't run away. Don't be scared. I won't hurt you. It will be over soon." This makes sense because again, Ringu doesn't want to actually harm the player.

So Ringu is pretty easy to sympathize with. She has killed kids which is always awful, but she isn't aware of what she's doing, so how much can you blame her really? That said, considering that she is outright not malicious unlike the previous specimens we ranked so far and the severity of what she went through to cause her to behave how she does now; shouldn't she be more higher on the list?

Well... there's one problem.

This bitch.

So Ringu received a new form in Endless Mode and she's a bit... different. What do I mean by that? What I mean is that Endless Mode Ringu feels like a separate character almost.

The whole "I don't want to actually harm you" motif with the original Ringu has been ridden of and instead the "I literally want to eat you" motif gets more focus. Endless Mode Ringu is depicted as a more vicious entity that is starving and desperate for a meal. This is made evident by the much more intense and definitely not soothing chase theme, the visible blood dripping out of her mouth, and her second form where she sprouts multiple arms. Unhinging her jaw beyond human capabilities and showing some sharp teeth.

She's also depicted as a more malicious entity in general. With her Endless Mode form having a visible smile with a gleeful expression in her eyes compared to her more neutral faced and bug eyed original counterpart.

Doesn't exactly help that we also see Endless Mode Ringu in the Hellgate chase and she basically gives the player the middle finger by putting a curse on them after she gets absorbed by the Hellgate. Which roughly translates to "I will curse you" or "You will be cursed". Like damn. Salty about being sent to Hell much?

This is where we have to go back to the comment that Kira made on Deviantart and look at the wording they use. They did state they wanted Ringu's backstory to be about her having her baby killed and then going on to search for children to keep safe. Keyword: wanted. Past tense wording here.

So Ringu's backstory must have been changed a bit. To what extent? We don't know really. Maybe the whole baby being killed thing is still canon to her backstory. Maybe both forms coexisting can make some sort of sense if you put your mind to it. At the end of the day, clearly some things were changed to make her be depicted so differently as we see in Endless Mode.

I could go on a whole rant about what exactly Kira changed about Ringu. Why both her forms were given scan lines on their HD models, why Endless Mode Ringu suddenly introduced a motif having to do with TV's despite such a thing never being hinted at before, why Breakfast Was Too Early was changed to Breakfast Was Too Late, ect. And overall just trying to figure out what tf her deal is. But that can be its own separate post.

To sum it up, trying to figure out where to place Ringu on this list was confusing because trying to figure out what her deal is and what's canon and what's not is headache inducing. It's just a whole entire mess. So she gets placed here. Although out of all the specimens here, I feel like her placement is most likely to change at one point or another

I'm sorry for failing you @chenxisolos. I really wanted to put your girlie up higher, but y'all need to figure something out because she's a mess right now/j.

15. The Worm Eel

Who's a good eel! You are! You are!

Ah man this poor thing. So this was a creature made to be a killing machine similar to Subject 5, only to end up being a passive. At the very least, it was kept as a pet around GL Labs, only to later be abandoned. Through unknown means, the Parasite ended up inside it and later bursts through its skull, killing it in the process.

There's not a whole lot to this eel other than that, but I imagine that it was pretty sad and lonely when the facility was abandoned and later was in a lot of pain when the Parasite entered it's body. That's unconfirmed though.

Still, although short lived, it's sad to see this peaceful little guy go. He was a good boy who did nothing wrong.

14. The Security Guard

Once a regular guard of Karamari Hospital who later became infected by the virus in the hospital and turned a deformed and controllable husk.

Similar to the Eel Worm, there's not much to this guy, but we can sympathize with him nonetheless. Similar to Bekka, considering that it was Ghost Cow causing havoc in the hospital, his death was probably a horrific and sad one. The virus that infected him most likely didn't take over his body immediately and who knows what horrors he witnessed when going through that process. Deadly viruses of any kind can definitely be a horrifying thing.

13. The Walls of Flesh

Another specimen that I struggled with figuring out where to put on this list. Because here's the thing with the Wall of Flesh. It's intentionally cryptic and not really a character in a traditional sense. It's supposed to represent trauma or repressed aspects. An entity that doesn't physically attack you, but mentally attacks you.

Nothing really implies that it has any personality, goals, outright malice, or full sapience. It's just... a thing. An idea. Not an actual being that exists. So how do you rank something like that? Well, we can rank what the specimen is trying to tell us. That being that there's something wrong with our protagonist.

Without going too much into unconfirmed theory territory, the threshold of consciousness and the scenes with the White Cat basically tell us that there's more to the protagonist we play as in SJSM than one would think. We can make many sorts of theories and interpretations as to what's the deal with the protagonist. That's the whole point of Specimen 7. It's intentionally interpretive. One thing is clear though, our protagonist is broken. Considering the fact that the Wall of Flesh literally one shots us when we make physical contact with it? It definitely brings some worrying implications.

Specimen 7 gives us a look into who exactly we're playing as and although a lot of it is vague and cryptic, hence why it isn't higher on the list, it does tell a tragic story. A tragic story that you yourself can make your own interpretation of.

Conclusion to part 1

I think that's a nice place to end this on for now. Part 2 will (hopefully) be completed before the end of this week! Once that comes out, as I stated before, I'll be ranking the rest of the specimens and then I'll state any closing thoughts I have. In any case, I'll see you when part 2 comes out and I hope you have a snazzy day!

[satureja13]

It didn't go unnoticed by the First Order HQ that something was going on again at Batuu. It had cost Lt. Agnon a lot to cover the Masters obsession with this Boy, Jino... and he'd only been partly successful. And since then, HQ is keeping an eye on them. They can't afford another incident with the Master being blinded and unable to keep up his duties here. Agnons last hope is this bunch of scoundrels...

But it seems Sai already lost all his hope...

Jeb, quietly so Sai can't hear them, he's already worried enough: "He's still stunned. And we can't help him."

Kiyoshi: "Maybe it is for the best. He'd only freak out and scare Ji Ho over the Bond." Jeb: "Hm." They decided to let Vlad be. He looked quite happy. As if he was thinking of good memories with Ji Ho...

Lt. Agnon is supposed to be on duty here - but that doesn't mean he has to watch them all the time, right? So he and the droids tried to stall the Master and Jino's departure... And he made sure to loudly communicate with the TIE fighter crew about the Master's plans to bring Jino away from Batuu...

Dammit! They have to do something or Ji Ho will be kidnapped! This Hondo guy had claimed the 'Escape from Batuu' book was just fan fiction. But until now, everything had turned out as true. Except for the meteorite stuff. But the Boys already experienced the connection between Val and Jino and Vlad and Jo Ho...

Sai noticed Lt. Agnons absence from the guard room. He and the droids were busy with - whatever stuff First Order personnel is busy with... So Saiwa started to scan their holding cell...

Their magic might be blocked down here in the cells - but Saiwa has his own kind of 'magic' - his hacker skills. There is a camera in each of the cells. And this camera sends the recordings - somewhere. And so Sai started to redirected this 'somewhere' to Batuu's orbit - to Great A'Tuin II. Gladly the communications are fully functional again and Sai hoped he could reach Rubyn, Kesuke or Dayn so they could help them out of here! Before this Master brings Ji Ho somewhere else - or them to the prison planet ö.ö'

And really - the huge monitor at Great A'Tuin's bridge crackled to life. But it failed to conect with Rubyn, Dayn or Kesuke. It seems only Lenny saw Saiwa in the prison cell down at Batuu...

And maybe two other certain members of the 'crew' ^^'

Lenny: "Mreau!" Malfoy: "Batoook!" Skully: "Right, we are going to get those Boys outta there!"

They met at the 'meadow', Skully adjusted the camera. Skully: " 'kay - looks good so far... "

Skully: "Malfoy, a bit more to the left - no! My left! Aaaand action! - or whenever you finished your bowl, Lenny..."

Just a little later at Oga's Cantina at Batuu: DJ R3-X: "Guys! It's Lenny!"

And so Lenny, Malfoy, Axl, the axolotl and Skully started their broadcast to get the Boys out of prison. Because who else is going to feed them and clean up after them?

The folks at the Cantina started to make plans. Of course they are going to assist Lenny, the Legendary and his friends!

Cora, the traitor: "Dammit! We're screwed!" Vanel: "Ach, I shouldn't have listened to you! I'm out! Here's your money back. We stand no chance against Lenny!"

In the background of the broadcast, Skully was playing 'Fairytale of New York':

'It was Christmas Eve babe In the drunk tank An old man said to me, won't see another one And then he sang a song The Rare Old Mountain Dew I turned my face away And dreamed about you'

Fairytale of New York - The Pogues (Makes me cry every time I hear/watch it)

Outtakes

Oblivious Jino...

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[celli-ohs]

hubba hubba!

part two of accidentally in love! series frat boy!yeonjun x stubborn!reader; college!au, one-sided love to lovers! comedy/crack, fluff, angst, SMUT (softdom!yeonjun x sub!femreader)

ATTENTION: This chapter contains SMUT!!! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! (M18+)

WARNINGS: drunk/distracted driving, mentions of drinking, foul language, oral (m&f receiving), masturbation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, shower sex

author's note: once again, I'm so sorry for how bad I am at writing smut 😭 this is what I get for not reading smut myself sorry y'all I really tried this time! I think I'm getting better though lmao

17. i took her to my penthouse and i freaked it (written chapter 2.5K)

Your skirt is riding up as you lean over, but you don’t seem to notice or care due to all of your attention being on Yeonjun’s cock. “Holy fuck. Slow down baby, I gotta focus.” He whines. His actions betray him though, as you feel his other hand push your head down deeper. The tip of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you gag, choking around him. The man in question lets out a heavenly moan in response. He releases you, and you gasp for air before diving back in, teasing by licking his shaft up and down. God he tasted so good. You’re sure your makeup is ruined, you’ve probably got lipstick all over your face with how you were practically starving for his dick, but that doesn’t seem to bother Yeonjun at all. You can hear him press on the gas, his breath labored as he tried to keep his eyes on the road and not you as you suck his tip like a lollipop. “I wanna ride you so bad Jun,” You whimper, massaging his balls as you kiss his dick. “Almost there baby girl, almost.”

Your night began when Yeonjun knocked on your apartment door. “Coming!” You shout as you speed out of your room, struggling to clip on your earring. You quickly throw open your door, and you’re immediately taken aback. Yeonjun wears nothing but a gray tank top and washed-out jeans. His hair is parted but a little messy, he probably drove with his windows down, a habit you’d learned he had, especially since it was the end of summer. But what takes you out is his eye contact. His eyes are intense, they scan all over you before connecting with your own, and he just smiles. Not his usual one, this smile was different, and you had an idea on why. “Hi,” You cough out, trying to remain calm as you smile. “Hey, wow you look amazing.” Yeonjun licks his lips. You only laugh, stepping to the side to let him in.

“Heeseung already left with the guys, I’m almost ready, I just have to change.” You say as you walk towards your room down the hall. “That’s not your outfit? You look good already,” Yeonjun says as he follows you. You laugh again, you’re wearing nothing but biker shorts and a random t-shirt from high school that was a little too small. “You’re funny. Give me a moment to change, I’ll be right out.” You tell him. “Why can’t I just come with you? I’ll close my eyes.” he sends you a suggestive smirk, one you roll your eyes at. “Yeonjun,” He grins. “I promise!” You shake your head and close the door. “No,I’ll be quick.” You tell him. As you’re searching through your closet, you can hear him humming “Toxic” by Britney Spears on the other side of the wall.

You settle on a two piece set, a matching skirt and halter top combo. You quickly slip it on, having already done your hair and makeup earlier. You’re putting your shoes on when you hear Yeonjun knock. “You ready?” He asks. “Yeah, actually can you come in? I need some help.” You announce, fixing your skirt in the mirror. “Come in? Okay…” He opens the door slowly, peeking his head through. Yeonjun acts as if he’d never been in your room before, when the last time he was here he’d taken a nap on your bed as you sewed the straps on Yujin’s dress. “Over here,” You wave to him, and he finally walks over. He lets out a low whistle as he eyes your figure. “I’m loving the fit,” He says in a low voice. “Thanks, I made it myself.” You wink at him through the mirror.

“Could you tie this for me?” You instruct, and gesture to the two loose straps hanging on your shoulders. Yeonjun jumps at the opportunity, helping you sweep your hair out of the way. His fingers ghost over the back of your neck, and you have to fight yourself from shuddering. Yeonjun takes his time tying the knot, but once he’s finished, he slides his hand gently down your back. You don’t move as he leans down, lips settling right next to your ear. “You’re so beautiful.” You can hear him smirking. You bite your lip, forcing yourself to behave. “T-Thank you.” You cough out, too embarrassed to look at him now. Usually you’d tease him right back, but with how he was looking at you right now, you were having a hard time thinking of a comeback.

As you two drove, Yeonjun’s right hand danced its way over to your thigh. Your bare skin feels as if it’s been lit on fire as his fingers drum to the beat of his radio against your plush leg. “So,” You clear your throat. “You said this was your first party in a while, right?” You try to make conversation, hoping to distract yourself from Yeonjun’s lingering fingers. “Yeah, they convinced me to let them celebrate, but to be honest, I kind of missed getting together like this.” He shrugs, eyes on the road. “I mean, a party every once in a while is nice, don’t know how you guys do it every weekend.” You admit. “It’s an acquired taste,” Yeonjun jokes. “I know a couple of the guys see it as a reward for a long week of school though,” You laugh along, you were pretty sure he was referring to Jake.

Yeonjun swiftly parks the car upon your arrival, running to open your door. “On second thought,” he mumbles as he helps you out, holding your hand. “Maybe I’d rather we head back. You look too divine to be out in public.” You chuckle, swatting him away. “We drove all the way here, let’s socialize a little.” And socialize you two did. Yeonjun practically had himself wrapped around you all night, never leaving your side. Even when his own friends would try to pry him off you, he’d stick to you like gum on a shoe. You enjoyed every minute of it, finding his clinginess not only cute, but insanely hot. “If you ever need anymore models, I’d love to volunteer, I'll even go nude.” Mingi smirks down at you as he leans against the wall for support. You find his childish attempts at flirting with you amusing.

“Fuck off Mingi, that’s my girl.” Yeonjun growls, his grip around your waist getting tighter. “Your girl? I don’t ever remember agreeing to such a thing,” You raise a brow at the man, and he bites his lip. You don’t notice Mingi slink off. “Yeah, well,” Yeonjun’s index finger slips under your chin, tipping your head back. “I was hoping you’d be mine exclusively after tonight,” His words have you shuddering, and before you know it, your beer has been discarded and replaced by Choi Yeonjun’s lips. You always had a suspicion that his lips were soft, seeing him pout almost daily when you’d poke fun at him, but you never expected Yeonjun’s lips to be as soft as a pillow.

You could taste the shots of whiskey he’d had earlier as it mixed with your strawberry lip gloss, a taste you became addicted to. His hands roam your body, pulling you closer and closer, trying to merge one another. Yeonjun suddenly pulls away, your lips trailing after him. “Jun-” “Let’s get outta here,” He’s breathless as you two run out the front door.

By some miracle, you two manage to make it inside his apartment and into his bedroom in one piece. Yeonjun pushes you onto his mattress, you're already spent but you only crave him more. “Take off your clothes.” He orders, standing at the edge of the bed. You comply, too horny to even feel embarrassed as you strip yourself in front of him. Yeonjun’s eyes are glazed over as you lay back down on his bed, completely nude for him to ravish. “God you’re so fucking hot,” He groans, throwing his tank top over his head and fumbling to remove his jeans. “I need you Yeonjun, please-” You begin to whine, playing with yourself as he finally frees himself of his clothes. “Don’t touch yourself,” He commands, and you hold your breath as you remove your hand.

“You said you wanted to ride, show me how you like to ride baby girl,” He teases, kissing you harshly before shoving you aside to lay against his headrest. “I wanna ride you, ride your cock, so good,” You’re babbling, unable to contain yourself as you hover over his erect dick . You’re sopping wet, dripping your essence all over Yeonjun before finally sinking down on his cock. He moans right into your titty, mouth latched onto your perky nipple. You gasp for air, not expecting his dick to stretch your insides so satisfyingly. You begin to move slowly, up and down, rising and falling. Every time your ass slammed against his thighs, you cried out, he was just too big yet you couldn’t get enough. “Too slow,” Yeonjun mumbles against your skin.

He holds you up, allowing him to piston up into you. You’re wailing in pleasure, gripping onto his shoulders for dear life. You cum for the first time that night riding Yeonjun. As your pussy spasms, you collapse on top of him, energy spent as Yeonjun flips you over. “I’m not done yet baby, don’t get tired now,” He smiles, swiping a stray hair from your face as you pant. Now you lay beneath him, legs wide open. “Wanna taste you while you’re still fresh,” Yeonjun murmurs, yet you don’t realize what he’s meant until his head is stuck between your thighs. You might break his skull with how tight you’re squeezing, but luckily Yeonjun finds this an honorable way to go.

Still he pries your legs open, not wanting to waste a drop of you. You claw at his sheets, crying out his name. “Jun- Yeonjun please-!” You just came minutes ago, you could only handle so much. But he’s a determined man, he’s not leaving your legs until you come one more time. His tongue laps against your folds, sucking and rubbing against your clit. You grab his head, fucking yourself against his face, something he never knew he’d love so much. “I’m gonna-“ You don’t even finish your sentence, cumming instantly. Yeonjun drinks you up as your high slowly falls, you’re moaning loudly, hips still rolling.

“One more baby girl.” Yeonjun smiles as you release him from your death grip. You let him flip you around once more, you lay on your stomach. He’s placed a pillow under your abdomen, raising your ass towards him. “That’s it, let daddy take care of you baby.” He groans into your ear as he leans down to push his thick cock into your pussy once more. You whimper as he begins to thrust, taking a steady pace. “You feel so good, tightest little pussy.” Yeonjun begins to kiss your back. “Fuck I can’t get enough of you.” He’s been dying to cum if he were being honest. You just make the prettiest noises, and wrap around his dick oh so perfectly. But he wanted to enjoy you for even longer.

He can tell you’re already close with how you’re panting, your pussy gripping even tighter than before. So he grabs you, standing you up. Your back is to his chest, he forcibly turns your head towards him, giving him access to your lips. He kisses you with so much passion, his dick pumping in and out of you in a fever. You were well over stimulated yet couldn’t even push him away if you wanted to, his hands held both of your wrists. “I’m close baby, gonna cum.” Yeonjun mumbles against your lips. You nod, trembling. “Cum in me.” His eyes light up. “You want me to cum in you, my pretty baby? Wanna become a mommy?” His lips trail down to your neck, his hips never failing to slow down.

“Need you to cum in me, please- I want you cum in me daddy!” You whine, breaths getting more rapid as Yeonjun’s pace speeds up. “Gonna make you feel so good, gonna get you pregnant with my baby.” He begins to ramble, and now he’s coming undone. He lets go of one of your arms, his hand slips down to your clit, and he begins to rub as he pistons into you. You cum almost immediately, your orgasm taking over your entire body. Your moans fill his room, his apartment. You’re convulsing around his cock, he can’t take it any more. “Gonna cum-!” He chokes. “Please please please please please plea-“ You gasp as Yeonjun groans into your ear, filling you up, pump by pump.

Yeonjun lets you down onto the bed gently, your breath ragged as you lay against his sheets. You feel him slip out of you, his cum oozing out of your hole. You’re so out of it, you barely feel Yeonjun kneel down and give your ass a kiss. “So pretty, all for me to see.” He chuckles. You hear him leave the room, a few seconds later he comes back. He’s wiping you down with a towel. “I’m so hot and sticky,” You grimace as you flip around to sit up. “Wanna take a shower? Let me turn it on for you.” Yeonjun says, before caressing your face and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You are amazing, thank you.” You sigh and smile. You lay back down as he leaves for the bathroom.

Moments later you find yourself under the cool water, covered in sudsy bubbles, and bouncing on top of Yeonjun’s dick again. “You’re an active one.” He jokes as you have your head tucked into the crook of his neck, arms thrown over his shoulders. “Shut up, you started this.” You groan, now embarrassed. “Well baby, what did you expect when I got in with you?” He asks, smirking at you. You glare, and decide to shut him up with a kiss. “Just fuck me.” You threaten. “Love to.” He teases, taking control once more by picking you up, and moving you to his own pace. You throw your head back in pleasure. You feel even tighter, warmer than earlier, sex with you is mind blowing.

Yeonjun doesn’t even warn you when he cums this time, he just does. Pushing you up against the wall, he fiercely kisses you. You can feel his cock throb inside of you as he sets you back down onto your feet. You savor his lips as the two of you wrap your arms around each other under the shower. Suddenly, Yeonjun pulls away, he rubs his thumb across your lips. “I love you.” He suddenly confesses, his eyes pouring his love and soul into you as he stares. You smile and sigh, leaning into his touch. “Let’s wash up, yeah?” Yeonjun gives you a cheesy smile, as if he expected this to be your answer, and nods. In hushed whispers and laughter, you two help each other clean up.

Bonus:

whenever Yeonjun has a girl over, Beomgyu and Kai stay at Taehyun's and Soobin's apartment

they all gather to shit on Yeonjun (bonding moment!)

Yeonjun was so busy eyefucking Y/n at the party, he forgot all about Felix's cake he made for him

Mingi was not joking about the nude modeling

Yeonjun and Y/n were at the party for only 40 minutes before they dipped

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