#at least for the shower I should have a fresh new 'do and feel more human

[yanderenightmare]

TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility, murder of unnamed characters, mentions of potentially killing reader

fem reader

Just thinking about the apocalypse, the two army men who’ve long survived it in their shelter with barely any trouble, and then you, a poor girl trying hard to outrun your last captives only to run into them.  

You didn’t realize back then that it was like trading piranhas for sharks, too caught up in begging for their aid to think better of it. You should have just kept running, but your ankle was sprained badly, maybe even broken, and you were wearing so little you would most likely have died from the cold during the night if they hadn’t taken you in.

It seems unfair of them to have kept the giant bunker all to themselves, only the two of them, but you don’t judge. You would likely have kept it all to yourself as well.

This new world has bred new humans, and they’re all monsters. It’s honestly quite surprising they’d even let you in, given this is what they’re protecting, this sanctuary from the past, a comfort most people would kill their closest friend in exchange for.

Trust is all but dead, and so is honor or any other morality—you would know, you’ve lived out there for it all, only having survived by spreading your legs at the right moments. It’s a shameful tactic, and many times, you’ve wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to spare yourself and just die. What was the purpose?

This—you think. This must be it. They have showers and working hot water.

You don’t know how it’s possible—the original owners of the shelter must have been some type of millionaire. You haven’t had a warm shower since the world went to shit—years ago. It’s been a choice of waiting for rain or finding a lake, hoping it wasn’t rancid. Meanwhile, they have soap—scented soap, the lush kind you’d forgotten existed. It feels so nice you have to cry—rejoice—sobbing while lathering yourself, watching all the filth go down the drain, leaving you smooth-skinned once again for the first time in forever. You can’t remember having ever been so clean before, feeling reborn.

They have fresh clothes for you too—new socks and underwear, all clean fabrics, so much more than what you wore—pants, a shirt, and a sweater to keep warm. You didn’t know there still existed people who lived like the old days—you’d thought it was long gone, a bittersweet dream you sometimes have the pleasure of at night instead of the usual nightmares. Never had you thought you’d experience anything even remotely similar, but here you are—looking yourself in the mirror after so long, surprised to see a human looking back at you.

And they feed you. Not scraps, not leftovers, not rot, or days-old flesh from the last successful hunt—but freshly baked bread, vegetables, fruit—for fuck’s sake, they even have juice. You cry again while eating, and then you find yourself begging them again, “Please, let me stay—please, I’ll do anything. I can cook, clean, work—anything at all, I can do it, just please let me stay…”

You’re on your knees, forehead pressed to the heated metal floors—toasty and comforting, you think you could sleep better than ever right there.

“We’ll think about it,” one of them mutters as he gathers the plates. His voice was so harsh he might as well have said, not a chance. It’s clear by his frown that he’d rather send you right out again, leave you to the monsters.

“We’ll at least let you stay until your ankle heals, so don’t worry.” The other is more sympathetic, helping you up. “For now, let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”

It hadn’t crossed your mind that they’d have beds—actual real soft downy mattresses and duvets and pillows. The two of you help make it together. It feels so foreign that you wonder if you might have died earlier. Some years back, you wouldn’t have thought heaven would resemble a prison cell, but now it only made sense—safe metal walls and a bed. What more could one possibly want in the world?

“I’ll wrap your leg for you if you sit.” He holds out a bandage roll, gesturing to your ankle.

Blinking, you can’t even register what he’d just offered until he’s getting down on his knees before you.

You panic, then. Bandages are hard to come by—it hardly seems worth it. “There’s no blood, you shouldn’t waste it—”

“It’ll heal better and faster this way,” he adds reassuringly. His voice is so soft and compelling that you find yourself sitting down without further quarrel, even when it makes you feel spoiled.

He’s gentle with you—holding you steady while wrapping it just tightly enough to be supportive. There hasn’t been a man who’s touched you like it.

“Does that feel okay?”

You can barely tell he’s talking to you. It’s all so lost on you that you can only wordlessly nod your head.

He fastens it just as carefully before standing. “Is there anything else you might need?”

You shake your head just as wordlessly. You can’t believe how nice he’s being. It makes no sense at all. Not in this world. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to lock the door,” he apologizes with a sheepish look once standing on the threshold.

You’d been stuck thinking about how warm the room was, trying to remember a single time you hadn’t been freezing during the night. “That’s okay, I understand,” you say. After all, what’s a locked door in comparison?

“Good,” he smiles—it’s likely the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. “Alright then, good night.”

Once again, you’re left stunned. The last time you’d heard those words spoken must have been from a loved one long since dead. It makes your lip wobble again as you say it back, “Good night.”

It's strange—they could have left you for dead but didn’t. They don’t seem gullible—they can’t be if they’ve managed to protect this place for so long—but you suppose there still exist men who have a soft spot in their hearts for helpless damsels in distress.

As you sink into the comfort, draping your duvet atop your battered body, you don’t even care about the camera in the ceiling—blinking red while watching you.

“Did you have to bandage her up?” he grumbles as the other walks into the bedroom after having said his goodnights to you. 

He’s already in bed, observing through the cameras on a tablet—you were currently curling into the duvet, wrapping it around you close for comfort. You’d likely not slept on anything so soft in a while—it wouldn’t surprise him if you preferred the floor. But no, you drift asleep quite quickly.

“You know how badly things can heal without proper support,” the other answers, regarding it as no big deal. “And besides, it’s not like we often need it—we have plenty to spare.”

He removes his clothes and crawls onto the bed as well, lifting the covers to slot himself right next to the other man, who still has a scowl on his face.

“Oh, come on…” he drawls. “She’s exactly what we’ve been talking about, isn’t she?”

The grump doesn’t answer, still with keen eyes watching you, even as you’ve fallen asleep—as if waiting for you to do something befitting a wild animal in a cage. The other’s eyes fall to the screen as well, but he only awes in delight.

“Look at her, already fast asleep,” he purrs while zooming in on your face. “I mean, did you see how she was begging earlier, what she said? I’d do anything,” he continues, almost whining. “So cute, I could have fucked her right then and there.”

The other man sets the tablet aside with a disagreeing sigh. “We’ll wait at least a week for her system to detoxify from the wasteland,” he says strictly. “I’m not touching her before then, and neither are you unless you want to sleep alone.”

The other groans then, flopping down on his back. “Yeah, yeah, you and your safety protocols,” he dismisses before a smirk creeps up his face, glee twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at his grouchy counterpart. “But then we keep her, right?”

“Tch—we don’t even know if she’s fertile. The wasteland could have made her barren as long as she’s been out there,” the other shuffles down into the sheets as well, turning to look at his partner and the awfully keen look on his face.

“So we test her. Give her a medical check,” he says, again as if it’s not a problem, even when it very well could turn out to be.

They’ve already broken quarantine rules by letting you in here—and who knows what your real objectives truly are.

“I don’t trust her,” he states.

The other pouts. “I don’t see what one little lady can do—she’s hardly a threat. And we already purged the group that was following her. I doubt any of them made it out alive.”

True, he had gone out and sent several gas grenades into the settlement. Surely, none of them managed to escape, but then again—

“Pest control only works when you kill them all, and we’ve just let one inside our own house,” he grumbles.

The other one sighs. “Okay, so if it turns out she isn’t as cute as she looks, we’ll deal with her like the rest. But if I’m right, and she really is just a harmless little thing, we keep her, and I get to have the first go.”

Suppose there isn’t anything better to do aside from killing you straight away, which would only have been a waste of food, water, clothes, and bandages. 

“Fine.”

The other grins at the agreeance, humming, “I guess until then, we’ll just have to make do with each other—I've been hard since we watched her shower.” He leans forward for contact but is shut down as his bedmate rolls around with his back turned to him.

“Tch—take care of it yourself.” Tonight has been too stressful to tug each other’s dicks. 

He can hear him whine behind him, but he settles down soon enough.

Suppose it would be nice fucking a woman again. It’s been so many years he figured he wouldn’t need it anymore. They’ve made do with each other so far. But even he can’t deny, once you’d washed all the blood and muck off, once he saw the dewy hue of your soft skin and the silk of your hair, all those plush curves, and not to mention that awfully sweet look on your face—he felt the tug in his pants too.

He'll do a medical check on you tomorrow. He hopes you’re fertile. But even if you’re not, he might give in to the other’s wishes and keep you anyway. After all, they might have many luxuries, but the comfort of pussy is one they haven’t had in a long, long, long time.

♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta, ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[grapefives]

did it or not ?

hoshina + gen oneshots! (separately) x gn!reader

arranged marriaged au! + hurt/cormfort + injuries + denial of feelings + platoon leader reader! + enemies to lovers (?)

warnings; it’s gender neutral reader but… lowkey lenient to male readers, but obviously only if you think hard jajaj, that’s all, also, change of work format! not proof read.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ hoshina soshiro

— he wanted NOTHING to do with you! not even as entertainment to see what could become of you both, NADA

— it’s not that he would argue with you or anything, but he’d speak a little harsher when it comes to you

— constantly asks why did he have to be married when both of you were in the defense force and could die any day

— at least he acknowledges your hard work

— mina actually likes you for him, so she always tells him he should show you affection, to which he gags at.

“ah, hoshina, don’t you think l/n looks good like that? sweaty, covered in monster fluids, look at how badass l/n looks, took down so many monsters…”

“what, are you saying you want l/n to take my spot as vice captain? since your praising l/n so much.” hoshina asks darkly while placing his hands on his hips.

mina shakes her head, expression neutral, “no, of course not, but maybe you should give l/n a nice reward-“

“ugh!” he groans, immediately walking away from her. he knows her expression wouldn’t show much, but he knew her true feelings. she was probably laughing in her head, mentally patting her back for ticking him off.

it didn’t help that you had defeated so many monsters, a few more than him. he eyes you as you flick some monster grub off of your shoulder, looking around to step aside, away from the scene. he hated going back “home” with you, you took the longest showers.

“good job today,” your voice snaps him out of his thoughts, like he said, you took long showers, so he sometimes zones out waiting for you to get out. “i wish i knew how to use blades,” you comment.

he stares at you, fresh out of the shower. your cheeks have a rosy color, definitely from the warm shower you had taken. your eyes weren’t on him, but with the way you said that, it felt like you were looking directly at him. you don’t talk much to him either.

“for a platoon leader your skills are too inadequate,” he bites before going to the restroom. “train more and you’ll be better suited.”

— honestly, you wish he’d at least make fun of you or something, not nag or insult your honed skills.

— you two lived more like strangers that shared a room, little talk yet always around

one day, you two had to face a group of honju. it wasn’t something either of you couldn’t manage, but for some reason, hoshina was having a bit of a hard time. especially with the way you kept missing your shots.

“the heck is wrong with you?” he ask as he slices the honju’s joints.

“the heck is wrong with you? you keep cutting off limbs and letting them fall on me! makes me miss my shots!” you argue as you hop off a wall.

“if we don’t take this one down we can’t help out with the other ones!”

“well if you weren’t all up on the honju then i would’ve shot it down already!”

mind you, you two were still honing your new, growing skills. hoshina was recently risen to vice captain and you as platoon leader.

“and i can’t slice it down because you keep shooting at the wrong areas!”

in the end, the honju got a good hit in you and him. minor injuries of course, but the next day you were sent off in a mission where plenty of platoon leaders were called to assist. hoshina was recently getting inside the house when you trudge up to him, looking absolutely worse than the day before from the honju.

your yored expression was one he’d never seen, mostly because he barely looks at you.

“woah there, did you age in the span of a day?” he finds himself joking.

yet you walk past him and go inside your home.

“nice talk.” he grumbles as he follows.

after your shower, you sit at the vanity, with a sleeveless shirt. there are fresh scrapes on your shoulders, your cheek is bruised and your hand are wrapped in bandages. he notices, because you hum softly as you put ointment on the scrapes.

“a mission?” he asks, surprising himself at his worry.

“broke my guns, had to use that blade.” you reply, closing the bottle.

“i told you to practice more close combat.”

“you didn’t say anything, you commented on my bad skills.”

“same difference.”

“if i die one day it’s your fault.”

he frowns, “how would it be my fault?”

and your eyes fell on him. and they gave him an answer he couldn’t hear. you’ll have pushed me so far away that you won’t make it in time when i need you.

— fighting beside you turns to be like fighting alongside mina. he carves a way and you hit, except only on those missions that aren’t nation threatening.

— at some point, he enjoys the teamwork.

— doesn’t show interest head on, he does it in silent ways. (like placing a cold water on your night stand. putting your books back in place when you’re too much in a rush to organize before leaving.)

— your determination for constant growth impresses him, he notices it when you beat him one day on slicing down a small kaiju

and just when he starts to appreciate you, something happens.

“hoshina,” your voice surprises him as he slices through the kaiju.

“l/n, what is it? kinda busy here-“

“VICE CAPTAIN HOSHINA! L/N HAS TAKEN A CRITICAL HIT!” okonogi’s voice goes through, “SHIELDS ARE DOWN!”

“uh,” you chuckle, “so are my vitals, have you said that?”

“what-?” he gasps as he dodges an attack, he’s in a tight spot right now.

“VICE CAPTAIN!” okonogi cries, “YOU MUST RELEASE MORE POWER! THAT KAIJU IS ADAPTING TO YOU!”

“yeah!” he hops off a rooftop and slices down the middle, causing a hit, but it’s bot enough yet. “someone back platoon leader! where is everyone?” he barks.

“we’re sending more reinforcements! the kaijus had overwhelmed our troops and many are severely injured! platoon leader l/n please hold out until back up comes!”

“we’re too shorthanded for backup!” hoshina argues. “i’ll finish this and head over!” he grunts as he attacks once more.

“so like, i’m bleeding out,” you say softly.

“PLATOON LEADER PLEASE STAY STILL! YOU DON’T HAVE STRENGTH LEFT!”

“how bad is it?” hoshina asks as he finally takes down the kaiju. he’s out of breath.

“VICE CAPTAIN HOSHINA HAS ELIMINATED THE KAIJU IN THE SECTOR!” okonogi shouts, “if anyone can go back up platoon leader, we’ll have victory soon!”

“just how bad is it?”

“the honju is a plant based type! it’s core keeps shifting!”

“and so are my organs, i wanna throw up,” you say.

“you idiot! hide! you can’t keep facing it! how far away am i okonogi!?”

“six minutes- PLATOON LEADER L/N YOUR SUIT IS OVERHEATING AGAIN! PLEASE STOP, YOU’VE ALREADY LOST TOO MUCH BLOOD!”

“I FOUND IT’S CORE!” you yell before going silent.

“VICE CAPTAIN PLEASE HURRY! PLATOON LEADER COULD DIE IF THEY DON’T PULL THIS OFF BEFORE YOU ARRIVE-“ okonogi gasps.

“okonogi? what is it? l/n?” he calls out as he dashed inside the building your squad had been.

the sight was ugly, many officers thrown about, blood and kaiju fluids everywhere.

“PLATOON LEADER L/N’S VITALS ARE DROPPING! PLEASE SOMEONE DO SOMETHING!”

“where is it?” he asks as he runs across, slicing the vines coming at him.

“uh, go to the control room far back, full of vines and living plants, literally they’ll attack you,” you slur into his ear. “hurry before i get digested.”

“WHAT!?” okonogi cries.

he sees red. no wonder your life force was dwindling. “YOU’RE SO RECKLESS!”

slice after slice, he makes it through and strikes the core. it’s disregarded by him as he searches for you. soon, he stands before you.

he stares at your body, laid there on the floor surrounded by kaiju fluids, in your own blood. you’re breaths are too shallow, too painful.

“you want something…” you say lightly between breaths, “to do with me now?”

“what are you talking about-“

“platoon leader please don’t use your energy! it keeps dwinDLING! MEDICS! MEDICS!” okonogi screeches.

“you… you never look at me… never accepted me,” you smile tiredly, looking at him through half lidded eyes.

the gash on your side is seeping blood. your suit had given up from over exertion.

“can you stop?” he’s kneeling over you, trying to lift you out of the puddle. “if you don’t come back home with me, then i don’t want to go home.”

you close your eyes, there’s commotion far away. medics maybe? “we live like strangers under a roof…”

hoshina grips you, “i’m… sorry,” he bows his head, pulling you close but still so gentle to your wounds. “please know that i am grateful for you… all these years, you’ve also pushed me to extend my potential…”

“platoon leader! vice captain!” a medic calls out as they bring a stretcher.

“well…” you give a shaky breath, eyes closing, “guess i was… bound to… be in your arms…”

“y/n-?”

“WE’RE LOSING THE PLATOON LEADER!” and everything become white noise to hoshina.

was he going to go home to an empty house? was he going to lose you, after finally accepting that you’re now a part of his life routine, a routine he doesn’t want to exclude? what’s this ache in his heart? he feels cold.

“-out of danger zone,” okonogi’s voice brings him back.

— seeing you frail was never something he expected to see

— you were always standing, as badly as you were always injured, you never showed signs of injury until you two got home or he found you at the hospital

hence, seeing you on the hospital bed wasn’t ever in his mind. you just woke up, smiling at him. your smile is wonderful, he felt like that warmth radiating from you finally brought him back to life. after days of feeling lost, cold and alone, he felt like he was back on track.

“what? wanna be in my arms?” you grin, joking.

and neither of you expected him to take up the offer.

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ gen narumi

— literally did NOT ACKNOWLEDGE YOU

— the audacity! you were so annoyed but you understood too, why would anyone want an arranged marriage?

— he’s cute, you loved looking at him even if he was just yelling at his screen when you were both on stand by

— he ARGUES. ALWAYS. just to get a rise out of you but you PISS HIM OFF when you don’t give him the reactions he wants.

“i want to sleep on the left side today.” he huffs, glaring down at your sleeping figure.

you had literally just managed to fall asleep after all his yelling and that bright ass tv. you glared at the wall, your back facing him as he looms over you.

“move,” he demands, shaking you with so much force you want to flip over and punch him.

yet, you close your eyes and roll over. literally rolling OVER him as you make your way to the right side, squishing him and making him yells and fight. still, you let that shove throw you off of him and settle on the right side. you fall back asleep, smiling at his grumpy remarks.

— as pay back he makes you go through brutal training. yet you always get back at him somehow back in the “comfort” of your shared room.

— you’re more serious about the things you have to accomplish outside of the battlefield, he’s not.

— he constantly berates you for your fighting style, just to piss you off

— at some point you lose confidence in yourself. had had been extremely harsh that day and the kaiju managed to make a good example of you. and gen had laughed at you for it.

“have you changed the bandages?” he asks, looming over you when you were trying to fall asleep.

you say nothing, ignoring his presence. yet, he cages you, practically on top of you with both arms to your sides as he glares down.

“y/n.”

your eyes snap open. that is the first time he’s ever called you by your name and it had to be your first name? his nerve!

“get off me,” you grunt.

“have you changed your-“ he’s easily thrown off of you by your action, he didn’t expect you to move.

“why do you care?” you growl.

he frowns, “i don’t want you messing up our bed sheets!”

you end up leaving the room, crashing somewhere else. he obviously didn’t chase after you, you aren’t that important to him. yet, he couldn’t sleep, remembering the way you left; angry, hurt. he had gotten used to you sleeping next to him, to you waking him up when the two of you had to assist morning duties.

he honestly felt like he couldn’t breathe well, until you came in the morning to change into your attire. he immediately sat up on the bed, staring at you as you move about. not a hello, not a “good morning captain, gotta wake up now” to be followed by his complaints. not even an acknowledgment, you got ready, freshened up and left. he didn’t like that.

— he lives for attention. for recognition. there should always be someone that gives it to him, yet that was the day he realized you don’t.

— it made him feel like he had to prove himself to you.

“lower the sound to the tv, it’s late,” you day dryly.

“i’m winning! listen to me win!”

you just turn over and go to sleep. when he shouts at his victory, his immediate response is to turn to you. yet, since you’re sleeping, you don’t acknowledge him.

he stomps over to you and forces you awake, sitting you up and practically trying to open your eyelids.

“NARUMI!”

“I WON AGAIN!” he roars, shaking you.

— honestly the relationship is more like child and guardian despite how old you two are.

— he has no plans for a family, said that loud and clear

— same way he tries to get a rise out of you, you do it to him when you catch him training late at night

“this is the third night in a row, captain,” you tease as he freezes mid air attack.

“THEY TOLD ME TO BE ON STAND BY IN CASE A KAIJU APPEARED!” he screeches.

“at one in the morning?”

“HOW ABOUT YOU POLISH THOSE HORRIBLE SKILLS OF YOURS!?”

you laugh, setting down a cold water bottle on the floor. “don’t over do it, or else they’ll notice you’re doing this again.”

“SHUT UP! I’M NOT DOING ANYTHING!”

— you’re literally always tidying up behind him. he never tidies up.

“l/n, where are my clothes?” he argues one morning.

“have you washed them?” you ask, annoyed.

he pauses. ever since you two married, he’s never really lifted a finger. well, even when he lived alone, the defense force would sometimes always send someone in to clean up. he’s tidy up once a month but it wasn’t often. now that he thinks hard, as he stares at you in the kitchen, it’s always been you doing almost everything.

“why haven’t you washed them-“

“gen narumi i will throw this knife at you, how about you prove you’re good at surviving in your own home the way you survive out in the battlefield?” you bark as you turn back to face him.

you never snap at him like that, it’s always a silent glare or a petty action. never verbal.

fine, he’ll prove he’s good without you.

— he’s never felt like he’s had a place to belong, no matter how much he proved himself worthy

— captain isao was a clear example of his first time feeling a sense of accomplished belonging

and now, coming home to an empty cleaned out house, he wonders why he feels out of place. it freaks him out, it’s been years since he felt like this. he’s proven himself more than capable of being the best at defending the nation from threats… yet.. why hasn’t he done the same to keep a home.

you didn’t give a divorce, simply asked to be elsewhere for a while, off on a mission that even you don’t know how long will last. yet, coming home to this isn’t… normal… anymore. time and time again, he was rejected from homes and hoped orphanages, that desire to have a home long gone after years or not being enough no matter how much he proved himself.

and now, he’s alone in these four walls again. where you had tried to make a home out of. where he, unknowingly, didn’t even have to prove himself worthy of having. of belonging.

“captain gen! how can we help you?”

“i wanna see how platoon leader l/n’s mission is going.” he says dryly.

everyone in the room turns to him, like he lost his mind.

“uh, i-if you don’t mind captain, why would that be?”

“i don’t have to explain anything to you!”

he doesn’t get to watch or hear how your mission is going. captain isao kicks him out, he put up a fight of course, but it was embarrassing to even try to come up with a valid reason. he doesn’t like you, always in his business, in his commodity, in every mission, every training. always cleaning ip after him, always telling him to go to bed early, always telling him to file out reports- always breathing down his neck!

you’re weak. strong enough to be platoon leader but still so weak! always coming home hurt. always needing medicine. always taking breaks during training.

yet, when he finally gets to see you in action again, after weeks of being denied your whereabouts, he finds himself seeing you. actually seeing you in action. you’re different here than in training, than when you had last fought beside him. yet, you could do better. he knows that, so he grows frustrated when he sees you take a hit and miss the perfect opportunity to subjugate the kaiju.

going against the rules, like always, he does it for you. you’re eyes are wide as you see him do just what you were trying to do. so easily. they superiors are barking in your in ears. they’re doing the same in gen’s. yet, you couldn’t hear them, only your anger and your frustration, you’re insecurity eating at you again.

“was i ever, even for one second, enough for you?” you yell, stomping over towards him.

“you had a chance and you didn’t take it!” he barks.

“GEN NARUMI! YOU WILL BE SUSPENDED!” captain isao roars in the in ear.

“FOR WHAT!?

“for always making everything about yourself!” you jab your gun at him, shoving him a step back. “where’s your teamwork? why do you keep making me feel like i don’t belong here!”

he stares at you, wide eyed.

he… he made you feel like you don’t belong? you, l/n y/n who always did better throughout every mission. you, who always messed with him when he didn’t get along with you. you, who was always levelheaded even to nag at him.

“only-“

“only the strong survive here! i know!” you seethe, “if you want me out so bad just tell me! don’t insult my skills! my efforts!”

“hey, i’m your captain-“ his argument is weak in his ears too.

hence, he feels, for the first time, like he actually is in the wrong when you growl and walk past him. you stomp off, fuming. are you about to leave the defense force? give him the divorce?

“just so you know-“ he yells, making sure no one else is listening in. “you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

you stop in your tracks.

“i’m prideful, i don’t play nice,” he chokes out, “but… don’t leave me.”

you turn around, anger long gone. but you’re still distraught. you’re just dissatisfied. “gen… not now.”

and he watches you leave.

— screw all his kaiju missions. he has to win you back, because just now he’s realizing he had you.

“gen, what are you doing.”

“i need money.” he says as he kneels before you when you finally return home.

you nudge his head with your boot, “get up. how embarrassing, you sure you’re my captain?”

“HEY! RESPECT ME-!”

you walk past him, leaving him alone. he huffs, watching you set your belongings back.

“don’t move those boxes!”

“you ordered a bunch of stuff from yamazon for what!?”

“it’s stuff we could need!” he argues.

you sigh and turn around, “like what, gen?”

“uh,” he scratches his head, then gives you an accusatory look, “i don’t have to explain myself to you!”

“uh, yes you do! have you forgotten we’re married!?”

he looks away, unable to form an argument. it’s a surprise, normally he’s quick to fire back at you, but he seems so at bay. it’s…

“disgusting,” you grimace, “what’s wrong with you? aren’t you used to being suspended? what’s with this change?” you look around, “hey, it’s even clean in here, despite all these boxes.”

“yeah so what?” he huffs, crossing his arms. “i’m way better at cleaning than you are, i just don’t like doing slave work often.”

“slave-“

“plus, we’re married,” he puckers his lips as he looks away from you, “aren’t chores like,, shared or something?”

you stare at him wide eyed. is he… for real? he glances at you and you’re heart skips a beat at the blush that crawls on his face. he’s for real. ah, what a darn cute knuckle head.

“this is only going to last a day isn’t it,” you chuckle to yourself.

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 1)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Disclaimer ─ In Part 1 of the series, the main characters are introduced, setting the stage for the encounter of Evan and Y/N to unfold and the sexual energy between them to build up. Things get super steamy and smutty in Part 2.

Warnings (for Part 2) ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, handjob, nudes, handjob, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill :)

Word count ─ 3.8K

18+ > If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

You step out of the shower, steam stirring around you as you wrap your hair turban-style in a towel. The anticipation of a proper night-out since you made the bold move to quit your job in Europe and pursue another life in the US tingles in your veins. It feels like forever since you’ve let loose, and tonight promises to be nothing short of epic.

Plopping down onto your bed, you grab your go-to jar of coconut body butter from the dresser. You squeeze a generous dollop onto your palm and rub your hands together. The creamy texture blends in as you work it onto your skin, leaving it smooth and oh-so-soft.

As you immerse yourself in your ritual, you hear the familiar buzz of a FaceTime call. Glancing over at your bedside table, you see “Ad💗,” your friend’s name (Adria for full) glowing on the screen. You pick up your phone, still coated in moisturiser, and her face pops up. A look of desperation is written all over her features.

“Hey, girl! What’s up?” you chirp, propping the phone on your desk to finish off your pampering session.

She lets out a dramatic groan. “Send help,” she whines, her voice tinged with panic. “I’m having a meltdown over here. I swear, I got nothing to wear.”

You can’t help but giggle at her faux-crisis. “First-world problems, brain rot,” you tease, sneaking a peek at the heap of clothes behind her. “I see you’ve got quite a selection to pick from.”

Adria pouts, swatting playfully at the camera. “Nah, these don’t count. I need everyone to be ‘she ate and left no crumbs.’ What’re going for tonight? I need some inspo!”

You chuckle sympathetically, holding the phone aloft as you pivot to show her your fit for tonight laid out on your bed. “I’m going for less is more—my thrifted mini satin dress and racing black leather jacket with my military boots and white tube socks for a touch of sass.”

She gives you a strained smile as she takes in your outfit. “Ahh, you pull off that casual vibe effortlessly, babe.”

You flip the camera back to you, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’m casual and proud!”

Adria rolls her eyes with a teasing glint. “Okay, but what about makeup? You gotta glam it up… you know the LA sparkle! That’s how we do it in East Hollywood, at least!”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nah, I’m feeling the au naturel look. You know I suck with makeup big time—I’d probably end up looking like Pennywise.”

Rather than rehashing your “Why makeup should be banned” manifesto, you choose to dig further into the evening’s plans. “So, who else’s joining us tonight, Ad?”

She rattles off a list of names, both female and male—some known, others unknown—and you nod along. “Gotcha. I’ll be ready by 10.”

“Perf. I’ll swing by to pick you up then. Buckle up for a wild night, biyyyatch!” she exclaims, wiggling her brows at you.

You let out a choked laugh as you observe her grimacing. “Alrighty, catch you soon!”

Once you hang up, you slip into your outfit and let your hair fall loose, fluffing it up for a bit of volume. No need for fancy blowouts tonight—you’re all about that breezy, air-dried look.

With a spritz of perfume and a final check in the mirror, you grab your essentials and head out into the dazzling city lights.

As you strut into the club with your gang, the uplifting beats hit you like a wave of energy. The nostalgic tunes of early 2000’s R&B thump in your chest, urging you to groove with every step. You all weave through the sea of nightclubbers, the party mode building up inside you like a pressure cooker ready to explode.

“Let’s hit the bar!” Tommy, one of the guys and Adria’s boyfriend, shouts over Missy Elliot. You all nod in agreement, eager to keep the high spirits flowing with some booze.

You slither through more partygoers who dance erratically, all while juggling their drinks. Some move smoothly to the rhythm, while others simply jiggle around out of tune.

Neon lights flash and strobe, casting an electric glow over the bartender as he polishes a row of whiskey glasses with cool confidence. A cheeky smile plays on his lips as you hop onto an empty stool before him.

“What can I get you started?” he roars over the music, his voice cutting through the din.

“Coronas all around,” you holler, matching his tone with equal fervour. You hand him a wad of cash chipped in by everyone.

“Coming right up.” With a flick of his wrist, he expertly pops the cap off the bottle, sliding them your way with a wink.

“Thanks,” you mouth, shooting him a grin before heading back to your friends with a tray.

You take a long, satisfying gulp, the crisp taste of beer quenching your thirst. With your beverage in hand, you pace to the dance floor, your friends in tow only metres away.

Your hips swing in harmony with the melody, and your feet glide effortlessly across the ground. Heads turn and whispers follow your path. Some even reach out, uttering unintelligible words, or brush against your shoulder as you pass by.

Ignoring the distractions, you grab Adria and Jasmine, dragging them into the heart of the dance floor while the rest of the group forms a circle around you. The music engulfs you, momentarily sweeping away the grim memories of your pre-relocation life.

With each song that blares through the speakers, your body twists and twirls with fluid grace, each move perfectly timed to the tempo of the music. In that moment, you feel more alive, more liberated than ever before.

As time trickles by, the music continues to pump and the lights swirl around you. You notice Joseph, the lone blond dude in the squad, inching closer and closer to you as the night stretches on. 

“Heyo, Y/N! How’s it going?” he greets you with a tap on the shoulder, his voice rumbling near your ear.

“Hey! All good now. How’s you?” you retort with a tight-lipped smile, bringing your Corona to your lips for another sip.

“Now that I’m chatting with you, much better!” he quips back, a hint of mischief in his tone. “How are you liking the States?”

Just as you’re about to respond, joyous screams erupt from Adria and a couple of other girls from your group, catching your attention. Before you can fully process what’s happening, Adria dashes toward you and jumps into your arms, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Girl! Are you on Molly or something? What’s going on?” you mock, smoothing out your dress on the cleavage before you start flashing whoever’s at close vicinity.

“Omg, you won’t believe it!” Adria squeaks, frantically clapping her hands.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Try me.”

“Ahh, my fangirling is through the roof right now! Evan Peters is here,” she cries out, bouncing up and down, squeezing your hand tightly.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Who?” 

“Evan Peters, Y/N! The hottie from American Horror Story… Kai Anderson, Cult? Kit Walker, Asylum? Seriously, don’t these ring any bells? Umm… Dahmer? Come on—you’ve watched that series!” she insists, her voice pitch rising as she tries to jog your memory.

A flicker of recognition crosses your face as your friend’s description sinks in. “Oh, right, Evan Peters,” you concede with a faint smile. “I remember now…And?”

Adria’s eyes widen, her mouth falling open in disbelief. “And?? He’s in the same space as us, breathing the same oxygen, Y/N!”

You shake your head, trying to inject a dose of reality into her Hollywood-induced haze. “Okay, but let’s be real here. He’s a mega star, so totally out of league. I mean, we’ve got about as much chance with him as a blue whale does with climbing Mount Everest,” you quip and fold your arms, narrowing your eyes at her. “And you’ve got a boyfriend, in case you forgot.”

Adria’s enthusiasm deflates slightly as she’s reminded of Tommy. “It’s not the same,” she protests sheepishly, fiddling with her bracelet. “You know how celebrity crushes work. How can I not crave Evan when he’s graced the world with his Tate Langdon role?” 

You can’t help but laugh at her delirium. “Ugh, Adria, it’s giving obsession and borderline restraining order from Peters if you keep this up. Let’s just focus on having a blast tonight and drop the celebrity fantasies, okay?”

A couple of hours melt away, and the energy of the dance floor begins to wane. Most of your friends retreat to a nearby table to freshen up. But not you. With two others by your side, you’re on a mission to keep the party alive, letting the music guide your body with a fierce determination.

Mid-twirl, though, your eyes snag on something unexpected—a figure lingering at the fringes of the dance floor, his attractive gaze burning into you like a laser beam, sending a bolt of lightning down your back. It takes a moment for you to register who it is, but when you do, your heart kicks into overdrive.

Evan Peters.

You try to play it cool, biting down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the grin that’s itching to break free. You try to pass it off as just a coincidence, a trick of the light or a delulu figment of your imagination, but when you steal another glance in his direction, you find his eyes still trained on you. This time around, he offers a timid smile.

Your throat feels like it’s swallowed a golf ball as you sense his eyes fixed on you. Desperate to shake off the sudden self-consciousness, you rummage through your tiny shoulder bag for your phone. Your fingers jitter as you feign interest in your screen, scrolling aimlessly through your main menu or typing out gibberish in your notes app.

But even as you try to stay composed, his stare weighs on you like a ton of bricks. Are you tripping? Feeling more awkward and exposed than ever (you don’t have Evan Peters laying eyes on you every day), you motion to your friends that you’re heading to the restroom. Anything to escape the spotlight, even if it’s only for a sec.

This time, you bulldoze through the crowd, head low, with the toilets being your last glimmer of hope for salvation. Or so you think. Just as you’re about to slip away, a warm, soft hand gently closes around your wrist, halting you in your tracks.

Every muscle in your body tenses as you slowly turn to confront the person obstructing your way. And there he is, Evan Peters in the flesh, standing before you with an enigmatic grin playing at the corners of his lips.

Your heart leaps into your throat when you face him, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert. Your mind races a mile a minute—Is this real life? Did you manifest this? Is Evan Peters actually in front of you?

Fuck, Adria’s right. He’s hot as hell, you ruminate, feeling your breath clutching in your throat.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, he greets you with a seductive rasp. “Hey.” His eyes seal with yours in a way that makes your knees turn into jelly.

I just saw you and heard you in person, Evan! Scrap everything I said to Adria. Forget the restraining order. Just slap the handcuffs on me, and do whatever you want... Erhm, I mean, take me into custody cause staring at you should definitely be illegal.

You freeze, unable to tear your eyes away from his handsome dark brown (almost black) eyes and silky tousled curls. A feeble “Hi” is all you manage, your voice barely above a whisper as a nervous flutter stomps onto your stomach.

“Having a good time?” he checks in, his smile widening by the second.

“The asphyxiation I feel right now must be a sure sign that I’m enjoying myself, right?” you reply, fanning your hand in front of your face for dramatic effect.

His throaty laughter bubbles up from deep within him, the sound instantly cranking up your heartbeat. It’s genuine and infectious, like he’s letting down his guard and inviting you into his world, flashing those perfect teeth like they’re on a billboard.

“If you’re suffocating from excitement, then you must be doing something right. But don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye out on you. If you turn purple, I’ll dial 911,” he teases, gently lifting your chin with his index finger and giving you a full inspection with feigned seriousness. “Nope, we’re good. So far, all I see is beauty, no signs of death.”

You can feel your cheeks heating up with embarrassment, so you instinctively lower your head, hoping to hide your rose-tinted face. 

You battle to keep it together, but the fact that his hand hasn’t budged from your wrist since your eyes met screams, ‘fainting spell incoming.’ As if that’s enough, his thumb traces soft circles on your skin, sending goosebumps up your arm. “You make me cringe, do it again,” you joke, and you both share a laugh.

“Alright, let’s see what card I should pull next. Here it comes, drumroll—on behalf of everyone in here, I testify to your: ‘I got some serious moves and conquered the dance floor, but I need a breather now.’” he rambles and raises his free hand in mock ovation, his grin laced with mischief.

You chuckle, a surge of confidence brewing within you. “Well, it takes the greatest of them all to verify this. A lifetime of dancing lessons didn’t go down the drain, I guess. I appreciate your testament, sir, and the panel’s verdict,” you coo, bowing theatrically.

Once again, his laughter fills the space between you, warm and hearty.

After a few minutes of silence and a staring contest that makes it agonising for you to breathe, you finally utter, “I said this would be my night, and, apparently, I meant that,” discreetly eyeing him from head to toe, semi-drooling.

“Yeah? Any highlights of the night?” he inquires, his tone dripping with curiosity, and you can’t resist playing along after letting your thoughts slip out loud.

“Nothing yet. But I’m counting on your highlighter to illuminate my way,” you spill out, playfully tilting your head to the side. A sly grin spreads across your lips as you throw the bait, hoping he’ll keep up with your pun game.

His “strike” is immediate as he edges closer to you. “Believe it or not, I’ve got one on me that can change your night from the inside out,” he shoots back, his smile growing, clearly on the same innuendo-laden wavelength as you. You’re a match made in flirtatious banter heaven, true that.

“I need some inside work, that’s for sure. Glad you’re volunteering,” you reply, feeling a rush of heat flood through you at his words. Then, you quickly transition, turning his wrist stroking into a handshake as you introduce yourself.

He hums, gently taking your hand in his, his smile stretching wide enough to reveal his adorable dimples that only add to his charm. “Evan.”

“I know,” you admit, unable to contain your broad smile. “But just an FYI, I haven’t binged-read your fanfics or analysed our astrology charts to see if we’re soulmates. I’ve gone as far as watching Dahmer. Stellar performance, by the way,” you blurt out, still shaking his hand.

He rolls his lips into his mouth to suppress another giggle. “Okay, chill. No need to prove you’re not a psycho. Wanna grab a drink to cool off?”

“No need to ask,” you fire back with equal enthusiasm, both of you grinning like kids in a candy store. Without hesitation, you just follow his lead, diving headfirst into the moment with a reckless abandon, thinking, ‘I’m all in, no matter what crazy idea you’ve got up your sleeve, baby boy.’

He cups your hand in his, his palm firm and reassuring, as he guides you through the throngs of people toward a quieter bar setup located upstairs in the club. The touch makes your head spin, feeling the familiar sensation of heat pooling between your thighs, leaving your undies all moist. You’ve felt sparks like this before, but never quite so intensely, and certainly not so quickly with anyone else.

As you trail behind him, you can’t help but lightly graze the back of his hand, mapping the pathways of his veins with your fingertips. You love a baby face paired with strong arms—he’s exactly your kind of man.

“Maybe it’s better…” he begins once you reach the bar, but the music swells out of the blue, drowning out the remainder of his sentence.

You involuntarily scrunch up your nose and squint, struggling to concentrate and hear him over the blasting tunes. “Come again, sorry?”

Before you can react, he draws closer to you. His breath is warm and tickly against your ear, causing a tremor through your entire body. Not to mention his voice: husky and velvety, making your cunt pulsate for him already.

Damn, things are moving at lightning speed, and you’re struggling to keep pace.

As Evan gets nearer, you catch a subtle yet alluring whiff of cinnamon and cologne. But, actually, it’s the natural scent exuding from his body that has a chokehold over you. Those pheromones he unleashes are like full-blown intoxication, making you lightheaded, your pulse thudding.

You lean in to mimic his gesture and whisper to his ear, but you’re pleasantly surprised when he gently clasps your hand, signalling for you to hold on. As he removes his earplugs, he explains, “Sorry I’ve got very sensitive ears.”

You chuckle, a wicked spark in your eye as you lift a tuft of hair to reveal your own ear protectors. “Great minds think alike,” you cheer.

“No, you didn’t,” he exclaims, eyes widened as you burst out laughing in sync.

As your laughter subsides, Evan’s expression shifts. His eyes bore into yours with a smouldering intensity as if he’s on the verge of revealing a long-held secret or daring to make a move.

But before you can form coherent thoughts or pluck up the courage to speak, Evan blinks fast, breaking the spell. “Shall we get those drinks at last? What’d you like?”

You clear your throat, trying to snap out of your nasty thoughts with Evan being the main character. “I’m down for another Corona, thanks.”

He flashes a quick two-finger salute to the bartender before turning back to you, his lips curving up in a cute, crooked smile. “So, who are you here with tonight?”

“Just some friends,” you confess, your voice trailing off as he raises his bottle to clink it against yours in a toast. His eyes remain glued on yours as he takes a sip, his defined jawline and slender neck at full display begging for your kisses. The intensity of his gaze makes your legs all wobbly. “A-and yourself?” you stammer, breaking eye contact to nervously trace a circular pattern on the rim of the bottle glass with your fingers.

“Same, I came to visit friends during my break. I’m flying back to Vancouver in ten days to carry on filming Tron.”

Your grip tightens around the cool glass of your drink as Evan drops the bombshell. You feel the liquid catch in your throat as you choke, a sudden surge of panic hitting your chest. You cough, the sound harsh and uncontrolled, your body reacting instinctively to the news.

“Canada?” you manage to croak out between coughs, your voice hoarse. You struggle to swallow past the lump, your throat raw and constricted. Your chest heaves as you fight to regain control.

“Y/N, are you okay?” he asks with a sense of urgency, his forehead creased with deep lines of worry. Leaning in, his eyes search yours for any sign of distress. His hand reaches out to steady you, giving you comforting back rubs.

You nod weakly, your eyes watering from the effort of suppressing another coughing fit.

“Let me fetch some water for you,” he offers, his voice soft and soothing. He sprints to the bar, returning seconds later with a glass of water and a concerned frown etched on his forehead.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting the glass with a trembling hand, keeping the bottle of beer in your other hand. The cool water soothes your parched throat, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as Evan tenderly ruffles your hair and massages your scalp to calm you down. Hint: his hands on you work wonders.

“I’m okay,” you assure him, looking up to meet his gaze again, your heart hammering. Everything else fades away, leaving only the reassuring presence of Evan before you.

You can practically sense the sexual tension between you. His stare flickers between your lips and eyes, his own mouth slightly parted. It’s like a silent invitation that hangs between you like a charged wire ready to ignite, daring you to take a plunge and smother his face with kisses. And then suck his dick so hard that his stomach caves in like a Caprisun.

It doesn’t matter that you’ve just met; he has you at hello and you’d spread your legs for this man without a second thought…

You gulp as you realise he’s almost inches away from you. You shudder when his fresh breath—an irresistible blend of mint and alcohol—wafts into my mouth, blowing stray strands of hair off your face. “You’re leaving in ten days?” you sigh, puckering your lips and giving him a puppy-eyed look.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” he whispers, his eyes fixed on your lips as he leans into your stool. With a single knee, he slowly splits your legs and slides in between them.

“You’re here now. Wanna be at my place next?” you suggest, and he stares back at your eyes with a crooked smirk, his lips curled mischievously.

Without warning, his lips brushed against yours, throwing your arousal off the chart. The torturously slow pace that his lips slide along yours makes your sex leap, pop, and drip. Soft moans escape your bodies as he grabs your ass to pull you in, squeezing it along the way as his chest cushions firmly against your breasts.

He smiles against your lips as you tangle your fingers in his hair and part your mouth, giving him the green light to roughen the kiss. His hard rock boner already presses against your wet centre when his tongue invades your mouth with primitive force, swirling and twirling with yours in a passionate dance.

“How long to get to yours?” he grunts out of breath, wincing from the uncomfortable angle his stiff cock has now taken in his trousers.

“It’s roughly a ten-minute ride, give or take,” you pant, adjusting the hem of your dress.

“Off we go.”

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

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[yeeterthek33per]

Meet You Maybe Never (Chapter 2)

A/n Here we go, y'all. Enjoy 😘

Part 2 of this.

Content/Warning(s): Fluff. Also terribly translated German, feel free to telepathically forehead smack me if it's wrong. Time jumps a few times but I'm hoping it makes sense.

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

Early morning runs.

Specifically, Magda's early morning runs.

Despite Pernille's disgust at the woman's early morning energy levels, she'd gotten used to the ten years of waking up to an either empty bed or a very sweaty wake-up call from a freshly run-out Magda.

So, inevitably, when she woke up this morning, she suspected it was due to the front door shutting behind a returning girlfriend.

However, the loudness was more of a startle awake than her usual slow wake to hearing something shift in the room or her girlfriend kissing her awake.

The Swede wasn't one to slam doors, in fact, she usually would chastise anyone who had, a little too enthusiastically, slammed any doors in the house.

Pernille included.

"Pernille, I know you're asleep but you need to see this."

A soft grumble into the pillow.

"Not anymore."

"It happened again!"

Grunting, she sits up sleepily, although more alert than her previous state now.

"Magda wha-"

A phone shoved into her face the moment the Swede practically launches herself into the room and onto the bed, with much more enthusiasm than should be had at seven in the morning.

"Look."

As if she hadn't gotten the hint already.

Squinting, like only a freshly woken dead person can, at the phone screen, she sees a photo of a newly painted mural come into view.

"Okay...?"

The dirty blonde woman huffs.

"Did you actually look at it?"

The Dane cracks an unimpressed brow but looks back at the phone now.

It's a familiar piece.

Or at least the work is.

It's a mural of Magda this time.

Brightly painted like it just came out of the can.

"I could have caught the Straßengänger, that's how fresh it is."

"We should check it out later, can I go back to sleep now?"

Pouting softly but returning to a standing position from where she now realises is her girlfriends lap, Magda moves towards the en suite doorway.

"Or you could get up and come save water?"

The Swede makes a come hither gesture, but the older woman just shakes her head, tucking herself happily back under the covers.

"Shower and then come cuddle and I might think about getting up in an hour."

A soft chuckle and then the door shutting is the last thing she hears before she's back to sleep, followed by a shuffle in the bedding and a now clean and dry body wrapping around her frame a little while later.

It was news, but it could wait.

At least, it could for her, but it was something playing on the Swede's mind as she attempted to relax into her partners sleeping form.

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

Life in Munich had thankfully been less hectic than when they'd first arrived.

Mostly in part due to Pernille's previous history with Germany.

That was one Magda would happily let her partner take credit for, despite stubbornly struggling with the language, she was grateful for the Dane and her heavily doting teammates.

Said doting teammates had thankfully shown her enough spots and routes around town for jogs, places to avoid during certain times of day, the whole lot.

That was something she'd listed as a must-do.

Her morning runs were crucial in her routine, despite her partners protests early on to stay in bed for a while longer.

They eventually settled for a cuddle session after showering upon return, although, it only took them a year of living together to finally come to that agreement in London.

The cool morning air in Munich felt especially crisp but better than the late winter mornings had been.

Spring was on the way and that made it all the better to be running.

That was her excuse, anyway.

She was more interested in keeping an eye out for more information or sightings of a certain street artist.

And she had nothing to worry about, because within a month and a half, another appeared, this time much more of an invigorating find.

She was first to the scene here, and nothing had been touched in terms of how fresh the paint looked.

She was almost certain if she had shown earlier, she would have met with the artist themself, again.

It seems she'd have to try a bit harder, though, because there was no sign of the masked individual that morning.

Though, that wasn't much of a surprise.

They'd been especially careful to not be caught after having been plastered over the Munich forums with a single photo of them catching onto the media within hours.

That'd been before they arrived though, and it's been months since then.

Still, they were becoming more and more intriguing the more the artist left behind murals.

It'd be less intriguing if they were just doing murals for the club, but it seems like they've taken a focus on two players and two players only.

Everything else she had come across had been entirely different, usually just simple landscapes and dig as she might, nothing else.

She hadn't been keen on getting in on the investigations to do with the Straßengänger, at least until she realised how invested she was becoming along with her partner.

As she scanned over the mural, smaller details appeared.

Only, this time, the words seemed to be a bit more targeted towards her, much like Pernille's mural was towards her.

"Determined."

"Observant"

"Radiant."

"Competitive."

And one more word in German that she has to translate.

"Analytisch"

Analytical.

After that, she steps back, takes a photo and practically sprints the rest of the way back to the apartment.

By the time she's in the door, shouting up the stairs at her most likely asleep girlfriend, she's winded herself enough to forget to even consider what half of the wording meant.

And not just on the level of it being who she is as a person.

These were on purpose.

To specifically draw their attention.

Or at least hers.

In fact it doesn't occur to her that it's anything but another mural.

At least not until she's doing warm downs later that day and it clicks in her head.

She'd spent so much time analysing the artist and asking questions, she didn't even think about the part where said artist might have connections locally that would spread word about her asking about them.

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

It takes less than a day to hear about a certain Swede's line of questioning about a certain Straßengänger.

A little bit of sleuthing yourself leads you to how much she actually knows.

It's amusing you if anything.

Hence why you left the mural the way you did.

Gave her an incentive, let her know you know.

Or that the Straßengänger knows.

Also because you had an itch, and it needed to be scratched.

You'd done Pernille enough justice, then Magda.

Only you had to come up with something because that itch was starting to come back.

Regardless, you'd let your latest piece catch it's traction first.

Inspire more of an audience, you inspire attention and support to the women's game.

That's why you're doing this in the first place.

Isn't it?

It's also why you're stuck in several back to back meetings with several media lackeys right now.

You love your job but damn, sometimes you hate it.

Not to be ungrateful, nor ignorant of the knowledge of what you signed up for.

It's just another part of life and you'd have to scratch whatever itches that come from outside of it, later.

At some point, in the umpteenth meeting for the day, you spot a certain pair wander by the window, chatting animatedly with someone you were certain would be coming in for a meeting with you now.

Then, it seems, they enter the room.

You weren't aware they were joining you but who were you to complain.

"Ah, apologies for the interruption, Director, but they were just finishing up the last of their training before they could come down."

"That's quite alright, you ladies are free to take the table whenever you wish. I'm not in any hurry, trust me."

The pair smile and enter the room, taking seats in the remaining spots at the table, while the attending media manager introduced their presence in the meeting.

"So, we have been working on this partnership for a while. I understand the nature of this kind of deal would normally be dealt with by the players' personal managers or themselves but with everything happening all at once.."

The manager then gestures to the women to speak.

It's the Swede who speaks up first.

"We were hoping for a project management approval so we could get this under way quicker and easier. Estée Lauder have contacted Pernille and myself through our managers, and would like to partner with us to get a Women's health initiative started."

The older woman nods, turning to you directly.

"Director, if we could ask for someone on your team, or perhaps if you can grant the time, since we've seen the work you do."

A small brow in question at the woman across from you.

"As in, we've seen the women's projects you've started, completed, supported. We'd love for you to be involved directly, if you were willing to spare the time of course, the women's side of the club could directly benefit from the media attention of course, but also for the club as a whole. Or perhaps, if you can't maybe someone you'd be willing to trust with working with us on this? I know it's a lot to ask as two players who have only recently joined but-"

"Yes. I will assist in this project."

"And I think- yes?"

Amused with the surprise on the pairs' faces, you hold a hand up, explaining yourself further.

"You don't need to convince me anymore, it's the perfect time actually, this could be a great, and mind the terrible wording here, kick off to our season's campaigning plan. I would love to help this initiative get started personally. Contact me directly when you want to get started."

The wide smiles on the pairs faces make the extra work worth it as they both shake your hand, thanking you.

"We appreciate this so much."

"Of course, when it's for the support of women in the world, I'd do it in a heartbeat."

Of course, it's completely true, this isn't just extra work to you.

It's a very important project that you'd take over and over if it meant the growth, support and visibility for women's health.

Smiling and nodding as they leave, you turn to your assistant, Liana.

"Liana, can you please put the Estée Lauder project on priority?"

"Of course, would you like me to put their numbers direct through to you as well?"

"Yes, thank you."

And true to your word and theirs, they call within a day, organising the information both sides will need.

"Alright, so we need to organise the time and place for you both to actually meet and settle an agreement for media duties, targeting audience, public viewership accessibility, etcetera."

"Magdalena and myself were both discussing possible days and times, with the upcoming international, we were hoping to do it before then, maybe in two weeks time?"

"Sounds good, I'll contact them on your behalf, if that's okay of course, and arrange a day between say, the twenty-second and the eighth?"

"Perfect, is there anything else we should prep before then?"

"Just your lovely selves, I'll have everything ready by then."

Nodding to the camera, you wave a small goodbye over the video call, hanging up after receiving confirmation, noting down everything they'd told you about the deal.

As you'd promised, within the following forty-eight hours, you call the representative that Pernille had supplied the number for, letting her know you were calling on behalf of the pair.

"Yes, hello, I am calling on behalf of Pernille Harder and Magdalena Eriksson. As their representative and representative of the organisation that employs them, I've been asked to organise a time and place for the negotiations of the upcoming project I've been made aware you and your organisation have been planning?"

It goes as smoothly as it could, surprising you if anything at how cordial the rep was being.

Normally you'd often have to go to bat for the players and any compensation they'd be advised to be given but they were generous and if anything, Pernille and Magda had themselves specified there was not much if anything that they wanted from this except to boost this project publicly.

They're an actively public persona and set of footballers, so really, the only thing to gain here is more support for the women's game.

The rep has zero qualms about compensating the players, but they both refuse, instead encouraging that the money be spent towards the project.

Donating their own time, and any possible pay prospects towards the future of Women's health.

If you weren't falling for the pair little by little already, now you definitely were.

And you had something to say about it.

Or rather.

Paint it.

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

It takes weeks until the launch of the progress, and videos are released. It's smooth as anything with them, like you expected.

You were constantly hearing from your crew about how easy it was to work with the pair for media days, so anything like this wasn't any different in your eyes.

They were confident, well respected, and self respected, level headed during proceedings and incredibly smart about any decisions they had to make.

In fact, you'd say you weren't even needed ninety percent of the time, the only time you really needed to speak on behalf of them to do with larger legal matters and anything to do with your place in this.

Everything else went through them.

Thus, you had time to plan your next move.

It was a set out large wall, freshly painted white and you'd managed to even get it in a larger area so you had plenty of space to work.

Your only challenge was doing it during the night.

Taking inspiration from the company involved, and from the footballers, using the colours of the Estée Lauder logo, a deep blue and whites, almost like black and white portraits, monochrome but with a deep navy instead, you painted both of their images up on the wall.

This time, using entirely words for the fill in and not just certain parts.

You knew this one would take a while, but it could be done.

After the very slow process of mapping out everything, you began going over it with a layer of black paint, slowly carving each shadow, crease line, jawline, pupil shine, each piece a small word of description.

This time, the words in each of their respective native languages.

Thankfully, you had a little help with that.

Not intentional of course, getting them to create media profiles, talking about themselves in languages their fans would understand from the national team, not just English and German.

Picking up bits and pieces, and a thankfully very helpful closed captioner sitting by your side who wrote and translated everything for the videos, and yourself, for Creative Director purposes, obviously.

Words like

"Empowered"

"Luminous"

"Inspired"

"Protective" For Magda

"Phenomenal" For Pernille.

And everything in between that you can put in.

But mostly one word that's resonated with you since they first got announced as a part of your club.

"Captivating"

That was the least you could describe them as.

As much you are an artist, you felt as close to a writer as you ever would be just creating this mural.

It was a lot of work for something that would surely stir up something amongst the community.

Inspiration?

Support?

A new sense of endearment from the locals as they fall back in love with their home team again?

Well, it's not like they ever fell out of love with them, more just needed incentive to return regular appearances at games again.

If it took hold internationally, well that's just a bonus.

It sounds like a lot of optimism coming from someone who's essentially graffiti-ing every blank white wall in the city with the faces of some people who a lot of Munich society may not even recognise, but when you've been doing this as long as you have.

Every single time one of your murals make the internet, and if you have a bit of hope that this one will make it big?

That's nobodies business but yours.

By the time you're done with the first lot of paint, you're sweating. It's a big damn wall and you aren't the most fit person you know. Hell, nearly everyone you know are either office workers or athletes.

Sure, you scale buildings, walls and nearly impossible to climb scaffolding but you damn aren't an endurance athlete.

Your grip strength may be in the high numbers but fuck being able to hang on to the same pole for a solid two hours.

That being said, the mural just needs the final touch up paint layers, little things like reinstating white shines and some shadows into the portraits.

Both faces have smiling expressions, examples of pure happiness and joy as they celebrate another win.

The best bit about working in a club like this is getting to see the players in form, on the pitch and outside of it, too.

Every moment you've gotten to witness all of the players in.

It's all come back to inspiration for your work.

You do it all for the players, for the one's who've worked as hard, if not harder than you have to get to where they are.

That's inspiration.

That's why you do what you do.

To get to witness that inspiration come to life.

So painting that into a mural is nothing if not a mere chip away at what can be shared with the world about the pure elation at seeing all of your dreams and hard work come to life.

And doing it with some of the community's most loved players also helps.

The final touch up layers come in quite nicely, taking a small break to let the other half of the paint dry before trying to paint over it.

As an artist, you don't really get to see a reveal like other people do.

Instead, the end result isn't so much of a surprise as seeing it for the first time.

You know how you want it to turn out, it's just getting it there in the first place.

You add and change little bits here and there.

Sometimes, you don't even know how its going to turn out but you still start somewhere with a general idea of where it's going.

With murals like these, there's always a game plan.

It's just easier that way.

Setting out a trace line and then going over it with the style and paint you want is how you do it.

So seeing it complete doesn't amaze you necessarily.

However, taking a step back, clearing your head and gazing over this complete mural allows you to just breathe and take it in.

It's beautiful.

And you hope the subjects take it that way, too.

Hearing a few shuffles, you tuck your mask back in a bit better, hoping no one saw you, and shove everything back into your bag hastily.

A group of adults walking by chatting and laughing makes you jump around the corner.

They don't spot you, and in the pitch dark, they don't see the mural either, only chatting away with each other.

It's in the early hours of the day that you finally make it home, again.

On your walk home, you think you spot a familiar jogging blonde across the road but don't stick around or follow to find out.

By then, you'd switched out your mask for a cap and turned inside out jacket and hiding hands in your pockets for the little flecks of paint the gloves didn't catch.

There's always some.

Your apartment isn't much farther from where you saw the blonde jogging, so when it's confirmed when all of sudden, on your way out the door for work, you see her practically sprinting home, it doesn't surprise you.

What does is the pace she's keeping.

Did she see the mural?

You didn't get much sleep if any, so you think you must be a little delusional to think she'd have found it so quickly, and then having had sprinted the whole way back again?

She's an athlete and all, but come on.

That'd be some determination.

You knew she'd been keeping an eye on the Straßengänger's next moves, but to catch on that quickly, there was no way.

But then you thought about it.

She's always been vocal about keeping a tight schedule.

Maybe they live closer than you think, and she's just on a morning run.

If that's the case, you've hit closer to home than you expected to, but it doesn't bother you so much as it does surprise you.

You'd just have to be more careful or you risk being caught, again.

Maybe being caught wouldn't be so bad if it was them.

You'd have to find out.

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

Pernille's eyes catch yours across the table, watching you listen intently as her girlfriend beside her rattles off lists of things that need doing for the campaign.

She'd spent so much time talking herself, that it took a little nudge from the Swede with a small knowing smile to let her take over for a bit.

The Dane was nothing if not determined, so taking charge of the campaign was more accidental that intentional.

Hell, they'd both been captains, they were both leaders.

That's why they worked so well together.

They both knew when to step in and when to step back and let the other do what they needed to do.

But something about this made her want to step in constantly.

So instead of interrupting Magda with possible interjections until she was sure her girlfriend wasn't already getting to those, she distracted herself minorly with just listening and observing.

Something drew her to you, though.

It was the passion with which you worked, the easy going but fiery steadfastness of your work, your ability, your personality.

The focus in you, the ability to talk your way around legalities and make it such a smooth process as you had.

At the moment, there was tactics of media advertisement that were being thrown around, things like videos and conferences.

Things like possible logos and sponsorship for the youth women's teams.

Those were something you would be handling with the clubs people as well, setting up possible sponsorships for the academy players and up and coming new players in the area looking to get into the game.

As well as charity donations, supporting women's shelters, donating to children's hospitals.

Everything under the sun thrown on to the table as an option.

And you took it all in stride, listening and giving small feedback but affirmations and assurances that you'd look into the options, see what you can negotiate with the business and what you could give as an option of advertisement for Estée Lauder themselves.

And they trusted you would do everything you could available to make those things happen for it.

She had no idea why she trusted you so much.

Especially when you were a business person.

They'd spent so much time being burned and run around by business people.

Not everyone was bad, but it didn't help that they were approached by people just looking for boosts for their company without doing anything in return.

The pair were never after money but god forbid they give something to something they choose.

So to finally have a company they trust on their side, and to have someone in their corner fighting with them.

It's the best feeling.

Especially when that person knows how to get it.

But there's something about you in particular.

There's a look behind your eyes.

One of genuine idolisation and passion for those with genuine belief and want to help build a better community and world of football for those who can't or need a little help themselves.

But also something else she recognises, she can't quite figure it out, but it's familiar and she almost feels safer knowing it's there.

It was a slow recognition that came to her mind over the past weeks working with you.

You weren't with them every minute of the work day, obviously, but once every couple of days was enough for her to find that familiarity.

One thing she notices is how much you fidget with your hands while working, while thinking.

It's a nervous habit, she slowly realises.

Picking at the skin of your cuticles.

Then she sees a small fleck of something, marker or ink or something.

And then it flecks off as you pick at it.

Ink wouldn't do that.

Paint would, though.

Before she can question it much further than necessary, though, Magda nudges her softly.

"All good?"

She looks up, realising the Swede had long finished talking and she'd just zoned out watching you fidget.

"Of course, right, just zoning a bit."

She says it in a small joking tone, both of them knowing well that she doesn't so well sitting still for so long.

You hum softly.

"That's completely understandable, as much as I am an office worker, I don't sit still too well, myself. Shall we take a small break? It's been a couple hours as is."

Magda nods in agreement.

"C'mon, we can head down to the campus cafeteria for some coffee?"

"Sure, I just have to head to the bathroom, I'll meet you down there?"

Nodding, the swede watches as the Dane exits before gesturing to the door.

"Join us?"

You smile.

"Sure."

Taking the opportunity to stretch her muscles well, the both of you wander down to the coffee stand, Magda ordering for her and Pernille, and then gestures for you to order as well.

"I'll pay for my own, it's all good."

You try to wave away the Swede but she insists.

"We've been talking your ears off all morning, the least we could do is pay for your caffeine intake to deal with it."

It's meant as a joke, but you chuckle and interject with.

"Please, I'd rather listen to you both talk all day than the work I do on a daily basis anyway."

"Oh, really, what could possibly be less interesting than us talking your ears off then?"

She nudges you, shoulder to shoulder, watching you flush a little.

"Office work, sitting all day in meetings, phone calls and constant paperwork. I've always hated sitting around like that. But that's just the half of it. I usually spend the extra time I get making promotional material and organising events for the club. As much as I'd like to focus just on the women's side of things, the board wanted me for the whole club. Creative Director and all."

You snort at the last bit.

"Not a fan of the position?"

"It's where I want to be in terms of what I can do for the club and how much I get to influence the parts I've always dreamed of being a part of but it just comes with all the bits I've always hated, too, so yes and no."

Your coffees are made and ready and by the time you've found seats, Pernille makes her way into the room, sitting in the spot on either side of you.

"Ah, babe, here."

Magda nudges the coffee towards the lighter blonde, her girlfriend thanking her, taking a sip of the coffee with a grateful sigh.

"What about the good parts, what else do you get to do for the club, I know we've read a lot, but surely there's stuff that the rest of us aren't told, am I correct?"

Sipping your coffee, you set it down again, nodding.

"It's a lot of work behind the scenes more than anything. Despite watching over a lot of the media parts, I don't see much of it myself. Only being shown the results at the end and obviously, any major parts of plans and announcements. Major brand deals, sponsorships and I get asked to do a lot of the men's organisational parts of their promotional as well, apparently they couldn't get anybody else to do it one persons job. It's a lot. But it's what I do best."

"Tell us about your favourite parts."

Pernille's the one to speak up.

"Actually, working with you, the players is my favourite part, I don't get to do it a lot, but when I do, you guys are the best people I get to work with, most of the time because you guys act like you're all human, not like the others. Not saying they aren't or that I don't get on well with them, because I do, especially my assistant and anyone I work closely with but they're just too professional, like they don't have too much of their own input to put in. I know I'm their boss, but I like hearing people talk about their own passions."

Pausing for a moment, you scratch at the back of your hand, something Pernille notes immediately.

"Actually, you guys are probably the best I've worked with so far."

"Really?"

You hum, nodding.

"You are both passionate, easy to talk with, understand what's going on and how to navigate situations like this. Dealing with legalities ninety percent of the time is left up to me and me alone, which is fair enough, not everyone has the patience, time or want to deal with it, but it's refreshing seeing both of you be able to keep up with all of this. You're both incredibly intelligent, analytical and passionate and it's a relief to work with more than anything. That's why I was so eager to accept your proposal for the project."

They both grin.

"We're glad to have made this process smoother, then."

"More than anything, you guys have made my job easier than it's ever been."

Chuckling you clink your coffee with the others and take another sip in cheers.

"What about you both?"

They both look at you confused.

"Well, since we're getting our answers from the sources, I wanna know, what drives you both, why this? I've heard it through so many third parties, I want to know why you're both so involved."

"Well considering we've both loved football our entire lives, grew up playing it, found clubs we love. The whole nine yards."

"You make it sound like you haven't done what ninety-nine percent of others have never done themselves."

"That's exactly why we do what we do, to help others who can't but deserve it more than anything to do the same, achieve their dreams, show the world what they're made of."

"Yeah, Magda's pretty much said it all, there. We do what we do because we want other's to know how much they can achieve and also helping them get there. Women most of all. In more than half the world, women were banned for fifty years from playing, which I'm sure you know, and Women's Football needs the boost."

"I love that."

You take another sip of your coffee.

"It's amazing what you both have done in and out for women as a community and for growing stars in the game, not only that but everything you both do for World Crisis', support of the people suffering from war, hunger, major issues. Especially those who struggle with sexuality and not being able to be who they are."

"We just want to help, that's something we especially love hearing back about it all, is that people are finally comfortable in their own skin."

"You're doing a damn good job, then."

You continue talking like that for a good long while, letting them both talk about everything they've done over the years.

Eventually, it quietens, and you check the time.

Glancing down at your watch, you urge them back up to the conference office once again.

"Shall we get back to work, ladies?"

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

In all of a few hours, you manage to set up a gameplan for the next two weeks of work before they have to head off to internationals, leaving you with something to do in the meantime.

A few times throughout those couple of hours, you catch Pernille watching you fidget with your hands.

You aren't totally sure why for a few minutes but then you notice it's only when you start picking at the impossible to keep off you flecks of spray paint.

It seems luck was not on your side in that moment because the moment Magda steps out of the room to go to the bathroom, she points it out.

"Much of painter?"

Freezing, you look up at the woman from your notebook.

"Pardon?"

She points to where you're yet again scratching at your hand.

"Just the paint you're picking off, you paint a lot?"

"Ah, a little, just getting into it actually. It's just something I do in my free time but damn is it messy."

"Oh, you should show us some of the stuff you do sometime."

Nodding, you take a sip of the water beside you.

You know the paint will get you caught one day, but spray paint is the glitter of the paint world.

It's impossible to keep off places you don't want it to be.

Then Magda enters the room and the conversation is over.

Thankfully, it feels like she's backed off you a bit, but you aren't confident it won't come back to bite you later.

Towards the end of it, Magda is scrolling on her phone as you type out some of the final pieces of information, ready to be sent off to the project managers on the partners end.

Noting the way she suddenly zones in on one particular post, you see with a glance her way, her liking and sharing a post about your newest work.

She doesn't seem surprised to see it, though, like it isn't new to her, the way she doesn't attempt to show Pernille even.

She definitely already saw it, as to whether she'd caught it this morning was another question.

You don't bring it up, though.

Instead, you continue typing and eventually, finish it with some wording changes at the request of the girls, and send it off.

"Annnnd we're done for the day, is there anything else we want done before you both head off to internationals? If you do have something come up later on, you're both welcome to call or message me directly and I can put it down to be done?"

They both shake their heads.

"Excellent, then I'll let you both head off, I can't imagine you aren't both sick of sitting for so long, rest up, and we'll talk later when the rep gets back to us."

Shaking both of their hands, they thank you profusely again and exit together.

Taking the moment to breathe finally, you look down at your hands, still little bits and pieces of flecked white and black paint, you groan to yourself, head falling into your hands.

"That was too fucking close, L/n. Get it together."

Luckily, they wouldn't be around to catch you any time in the next couple of weeks, you'd have plenty of time to do other stuff.

They weren't the ones you worry about catching you though, in fact, if it weren't for the face to face implications of it, you'd almost want them to know, but you can't let that happen yet.

It's the media, who'd have a field day at finding out the club's leading Creative Director is secretly a graffiti artist and the cause of the city's whispers, that you're worried about most.

You can only keep a low profile.

You've been getting cocky the past few weeks.

Now's the time to lay low.

Maybe put out a few smaller, less football focused art pieces, too.

Draw the attention away.

As much as you'd praised the attention, bring in too much of it and all of it collapses in on you.

Maybe one more mural before they go, though.

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

[hyunniesgirl]

Another Love | Part 2

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Words count: 5,302

Warnings: a bit of angst

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

>> Masterlist <<

A/N: hello!! I'm really happy about the feedback I got on the first part, I got sick and stressed because of work that's why it took me a bit long to post this part, I'll try and be faster for the next ones. Spoiler: things will get more interesting on the next part.

Han couldn't sleep, couldn't eat or even function properly since the day you left, it was so strange not having you around. He wakes up, gets to work, the boys make him eat something, they practice, then they eat something again because they know he's going home to starve himself in his pit of misery, then he gets home, takes a shower and goes to sleep.

He's always anxious, too afraid of losing you, every time he looks at his phone he's scared that a message from you will come saying you don't want to be near him anymore, saying you are not coming back.

He really wishes he could like you back, why wouldn't he? You're pretty, smart and funny. But he just never thought about you in that way, he's not sure why. You were always just his best friend, the one person that encouraged him to do the crazy things he wanted, the one person that got his back when things didn't work out, the first one he told when he passed the audition to be a trainee.

When he saw you at the party he was happy to see you smiling with other people, he was usually the one making you laugh but it made him relieved to see you were okay even if it was not with him.

It hurt so much when you ran away from him, he was already feeling bad but that made everything worse. So he drank more and more until he wasn't feeling anything anymore.

He saw the guy you were hanging out with, he was with his friends and you were nowhere to be found and even though he knew you didn't want to talk to him he went after you.

He found you outside, seated on the floor probably getting some fresh air or waiting for Hannah.

When you saw him he wished he didn't go after you at all. Everything happened so fast that he almost didn't manage to hold you before you walked past him running away again.

Han just couldn't let you leave like that, he was that desperate. He wanted to make you stay no matter what and he hurt you once more.

Was he even a good friend at this point? How many times can you possibly hurt someone and still be called a friend? He felt like trash waking up in the morning and remembering everything.

Chan insisted on coming home with him, he was feeling too guilty and too tired to protest, so he let his friend crash on the sofa.

Since Chan was there, Jisung should have expected a full breakfast when he got to the kitchen. Eggs, bacon and toast were waiting for him, but he didn't feel like eating.

"I feel awful, do you think I should go there and apologize to her?" Han asks and Chan shakes his head.

"She needs time, that's all you can give her now"

Han sighs, his anxiety going through the ceiling. He's lost, not sure if it's possible for things to go back to the way it was.

He could tell how worried you got when you saw him at the party, he knows too well the face you make when you want to scold him for not taking care of himself. So he spent the next week trying to get back on his feet, he doesn't want you feeling bad, he wants you to think the least about him so you can get over him soon enough.

So much happened during this time you were not with him, they finished their album and were going to Japan in two weeks. He wanted to show you their music, their new concept, the outfits, you always loved to see the clothes they would wear. You probably already know all of this, since you're living with Seungmin but he wanted to be the one showing you so he could see you smile and feel your support.

>><<

The group had gone to Japan, that included Seungmin, so he asked Hannah to stay with you in his apartment while he was away. It's nice spending so much time with her, there is this boy in her communication class she is absolutely sure will match perfectly with you, even though you already told her you don't want to deceive anyone, the thing with Heeseung made you feel bad enough. You know she's insisting on it because she cares about you, but you don't want to start a new relationship already on the wrong foot.

"I'm sure he's great, but I won't be going out with other people until I feel like I'll be able to get over Jisung"

"And when is that?" She asks frustrated, "I know a lifelong crush won't go away in a month but don't you think you have to meet other people and open up?"

You sigh, you just don't want to hurt anyone during your process of healing.

"If I find someone I like, I'll go out with them, alright? But don't set me up with random people"

She huffs, nodding, that's better than nothing.

Since Han is away, you take the opportunity and go to your apartment. You need some books, you have been borrowing Hannah's in an attempt to avoid going there to pick up yours.

There's nothing different in the house, you don't know if you should feel glad or sad about that. Although your life is turned upside down, things are still the same. You are sure you just need a little more time, things will get better soon.

You know that, because it didn't hurt as much as you thought going back to your apartment, you expected it would be much worse. Maybe it's because he's not there? That could be it but you have hope that the overall pain is gone, that it's not going to be so bad when you see him again.

Of course, as Hannah said, a lifelong love won't go away in a month, nor in two or five months, you're not sure even a year is enough but you can't wait until then, he's still your best friend and you miss him like crazy.

You're going to come back home when you're sure you let go of these feelings. Yes, it's going to be hard being with him but it's harder to stay away from your best friend.

So when you feel like you're finally open to meet new people without comparing them to Jisung and not feel like you're tricking them, when you feel like you can like someone else without feeling guilty, that's when you'll know you are starting to get over Han.

You take some clothes out of your wardrobe and put them in the bag with your books. Hannah is coming to pick you up since Seungmin let you use his car while he's away.

"Are you moving, ma'am?" Hannah asks, seeing your huge bag.

"A girl needs to be prepared", you answer and she laughs.

"Do you want some coffee?", you hum in agreement while turning on the radio.

You feel like it's finally peaceful in your head.

>><<

It's been some time since you visited your family, your parents call you every week to check on you and Jisung but when the holidays come you two have to go back home.

That's how you ended up in the car with him, it's not a long trip since you're going just outside of Seoul but it's still awkward.

This is the first time you're seeing each other after the party. The whole trip it seems like Han wants to say something, but he doesn't, he keeps stealing glances at you, opening his mouth and then closing again like he just thought it better to stay in silence.

"For fucks sake, just say what you want to say", you tell him minutes before your arrival at your family’s home.

He flinches, looking at you with puppy eyes.

"I wanted to apologize, about the whole thing at the party", he clears his throat, fidgeting in his seat.

You stare at him for a few seconds. Even though it hurts, the whole situation is less painful then you thought it would be.

When you received the call from your parents telling you to come home with Han on the weekend you couldn't say no, you don't want them to know about all the drama and before you could make up some excuse about Han's schedule they told you he already had agreed to go.

You exchanged messages with him, setting up the time for him to pick you up at Seungmin's place and you dreaded every minute of every day thinking about the moment you would have to face Jisung again.

When you got into his car, you felt uncomfortable. You made some small talk and left at that, hoping he wouldn't keep trying to talk. It's been two months since you confessed, maybe your heart is already accepting the fact that you and your best friend are just that, friends.

Of course it still hurts, you're not sure how you're going to feel seeing him with a girlfriend, but you hope it'll only get easier from now on.

"It's okay", you say. "You were drunk, let's not think too much about it"

"But I hurt you, again", he sighs, looking at you with a frown on his face.

"Yeah, you did", you sigh, "but you're my best friend and you apologized, I'm not going to hold that against you"

He parks the car, but doesn't make any movement to get out. Jisung is staring at his hands, holding the wheel.

"You're too soft on me", he mumbles.

"I know", you smile sadly, "it's just how things are between us", you open your door urging him to get out. You already can imagine your mothers making a fuss about why you stayed so long inside the car instead of going inside.

Your parents come out while you're going through the gate, your mom has a bright smile on her face and is waiting to give you a hug. It's good to be in her embrace again, her warmth makes you feel like everything will be okay.

"You lost so much weight, aren't you taking care of her?" Han's mother scolds him while giving you a hug and feeling you out.

"It's my fault, school is just crazy right now", you tell her, hugging her back.

"Nonetheless, you should eat", she looks back at your mother, "let's double the side dishes we packed for them", and your mom nods, going back inside with her best friend.

You take a deep breath, receiving a sympathetic smile from Han before he goes into the house. It's going to be a long day.

The lunch is somewhat calm, other than the dozens of questions your families ask to you two. About college, about living by yourselves, about Han's trips, how you stay alone and how that's dangerous, they ask about everything like they don't talk to you every week.

"I forgot the ice cream", your father says, slapping the palm of his hand onto his forehead and you can already predict the scolding he's going to receive from your mother. So you jump on your feet, offering to go to the convenience store to buy some.

"Go with her", Han's father says and he nods.

You wish he didn't, it's suffocating being so close to your best friends while still uncertain of your circumstances, but if you say you don't want to, they are going to ask why and having to explain that is going to be worse than spending the day with Jisung.

You walk quietly, looking at the houses on the street. Everything is still the same, other than some renovations made to the old houses there's nothing new. The convenience store is a ten minute walk away from your house. It's good walking a bit after eating so much, the thing you miss the most about living with your parents is your mother's food.

"Which flavor?" Jisung asks while looking into the freezer.

"My mom likes strawberry and yours like chocolate, let's take both", he nods.

"Oh my god, y/n and Jisung?" You hear that damn voice you can't forget even after almost 10 years.

You put on your best smile and turn around slowly.

"Hi, Haneul", you say, poking Han with your elbow, he's still focused on choosing ice cream.

"Oh, hey", he nods at Haneul, closing the freezer.

She eyes you two up and down and smiles.

"Are you finally dating?" She squeals and you can tell she's just being mean.

"No", you answer before Jisung can even open his mouth, he glances at you with a frown.

"I'm sorry, y/n, it seems not every teenage crush works out", she pouts, smiling even more now that she got what she wanted.

You watch as she turns around, walking more deep into the store and you grab the ice creams from Han's hands, going to the cashier to pay for it.

Haneul hated you ever since Jisung dragged you to go on their date in middle school, it's not your fault but you always guessed she blamed you for things not working out with him.

You want to cry, not because you're sad but because you feel humiliated. It's so frustrating knowing that everyone has always known about your feelings for Han, it's even worse to think one day a lot of your school classmates are going to see his wedding pictures with you as the third wheel as always and think of how much of a loser you're.

"How did she know about that?" He asks when you get out of the store.

"I don't think I did a good job at hiding my feelings", you shrug.

Han stops on his tracks, you only realize that after giving a few steps and you look back to see him staring at you with a confused face.

"Was I the only one that didn't know?" He asks and you sigh, you're not really in the mood to have this conversation.

"Our parents probably don't know either", you say and he huffs.

"I'm not joking, y/n! Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"What difference would it make if you knew?" You yell, finally losing it. You can feel the tears brimming in your eyes, but you won't cry, you were finally feeling a bit better and you're not going to waste another tear on this one sided love.

"Things could have been different, I could have been more careful, I could have told you to-"

He stops mid sentence knowing he shouldn't finish the sentence, but it's already too late.

"Would you have told me to move on?" You scoff, looking around to avoid the tears. "It's not that easy Jisung, this is not the same love you felt in your relationships that lasted three months", you know you're just being mean now, but you can't control it, not with all the hurt you're feeling. "I've been in love with you for years, don't you think I was afraid of that? Of you telling me that years of me pining over you were worth nothing?"

You turn around, "tell our parents that I met someone from high school and I'll be back later", you don't give him time to say anything back before you walk away.

After a few minutes, you feel the tears running down your face. At least you avoided crying in front of him.

Why does it have to be so hard? Why can't you just forget about him already? This process is taking too long and too much of your energy.

You sit in the park, wiping your tears and looking at the children playing. Everything was easier when you were at that age, you had no worries other than if it would rain the day you would go play with your friends outside or which present to give your parents on their birthday.

You look at your phone, answering your messages, your mother sent you a text telling you to not stay out too late but you don't think you'll be able to go back and stay in the same room as Han right now.

"Y/n?" You hear a strangely familiar voice, you look up and see a handsome man walking towards you. You're sure you know his face, but you just can't remember who it is.

He sees your frown and laughs.

"Jeongho? From middle school", he tells you and your eyes widen.

"Oh my god, Jeongho! How are you?" You ask and he smiles, he grew up really well. He's much taller now but he's still as handsome.

"I'm doing well, what about you?" He asks, sitting by your side, "are you visiting your family?"

"I'm great", you smile and nod, "yeah, Jisung and I came to visit"

What are the odds of you meeting Haneul and Jeongho of all people right after you confessed to Han? The universe really must be playing with you.

"I heard that you are living in Japan", you continue.

"Yeah, I came here just for the holiday", he explains, "actually, I come by pretty often to Korea", he clears his throat, looking at you. "Are you and Jisung a thing now?" He asks and you smile painfully, why must you answer this question twice in a day?

"No, still just friends", you tell and he smiles.

He nods, mumbling 'ah'.

"And… by any chance are you single?" He asks and you nod, feeling embarrassed. "Well, that's good news for me", he says, receiving a confused look from you while handing you his phone, "mind giving me your number? I'd like to keep in contact with you"

"Oh", you stare at the device for a moment, trying to process what he's saying. Is he interested in you?

"It's okay if you don't want to", he chuckles, "I'm just shooting my shot, knowing you're not with Jisung"

You laugh, releasing the air you didn't even notice you were holding.

"Yeah, sure", you type your number and give it back to him.

He stares at you with a satisfied smile before getting up.

"I have to go now, my family is waiting for me, but I'll text you", he says, flashing a smile and waving goodbye to you.

That was certainly unexpected, you would have never imagined you would meet Jeongho and he would still be interested in you. That lightens up your mood a bit, maybe this time you'll make the right choice and choose the person that likes you back.

You and Han don't share a word on your trip back, you don't want to talk to him and he seems too deep in his thoughts to say anything to you.

You finally can breathe when you get to Seungmin's, he's waiting with Hannah, beer and food, all you needed after this hell of a day.

>><<

You are in a lilac long dress, your friends are all seated in the first row. The church is full of people, some you know, some you're not so sure. You're happy, feeling your heart beat fast and butterflies on your stomach. Jisung is looking directly at you, he smiles with a proud look on his face.

However, before you can step closer to him, a loud piano sound starts playing and after a few seconds you recognize the wedding march. People stand up but they are not looking at you, neither is Han, they are all looking at the church doors where a beautiful woman is entering in a long white dress, a child walks in front of her, throwing roses in her path. The familiar round full cheeks make your stomach sink, why does that child look so much like Han? He doesn't have a younger sibling.

Then, it all sinks in, you're not the bride. Of course not, he's marrying another woman, a beautiful one at that. He's building his life and forming a family and you're just there on the sidelines. The bride steps in front of him and gives you her bouquet, smiling kindly at you.

You open your eyes abruptly, your chest is going up and down at a fast pace and your breathing is heavy, you're soaked in sweat. It was all a dream, a nightmare.

You sit on the sofa, feeling sore, all your muscles are tense. You can't believe you actually dreamt about something like that, your fear of always being there watching your best friend have his own life while still in love with him is taking over, even though you're trying to get over him.

It's two in the morning and you can't go back to sleep. It's better to take a shower and maybe go for a walk to calm your nerves.

The warm bath helps make you relax, but the memories from your dream keeps coming up on your mind again and again.

You text the only person who is probably still awake at this time and your phone buzzes seconds after your message is sent.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of being contacted by my most beautiful friend?” Chan's voice sounds on the other side of the line.

You chuckle.

“I knew you would be awake”, you tell him, fidgeting with your feet while trying to explain what's happening to him without humiliating yourself.

“I had a pretty bad nightmare and wanted to take a walk, maybe eat something? I don't know”, you whisper the last part and Chan sighs, he can tell you're not feeling well.

“Sure, I wanted to take a break anyway”, he says even though he's full of work to do.

You meet at a convenience store nearby, Chan's apartment is not far from Seungmin's since they can't live far away from each other, everyone lives close. You and Jisung did too- cursed man, coming back through your mind even though you're trying to think of anything but him.

“So”, Chan says, taking you out of your thoughts, “Jisungie told me you had a bit of an argument”, he tells you carefully, resting his elbows on the table you two are seated while he holds the beer can.

You sigh, of course he would tell Chan.

“Yeah, we just met someone from middle school during our trip and it ended up like that”, you explain after swallowing a mouthful of the hot spice ramen you have in your hands.

“I know things are not easy right now, for you or for him”, he says carefully, “but you're best friends, you have to communicate and talk things through”

“I guess”, you sigh. It's not easy to talk about Jisung, more so after the dream you had. You thought the worst part was already over, that you were finally getting over him. But it turns out it's not just willingness that makes things happen.

You wake up to your phone buzzing, you look at the time it's almost noon. You look through your messages and can't help but smile, Jeongho has been messaging you everyday since the last time you saw him. It's nice having this kind of attention, he's handsome and nice, maybe it's time for you to open your heart to someone else. The nightmare you had really terrified you, just thinking about it makes your head hurt and your chest ache.

Jeongho: good morning

Jeongho: I'll be in Korea next week, maybe we could have dinner together?

You: morning

You: yeah, that would be great!

You decide to give this a chance, it's not like it is going to kill you and Jeongho is well aware about your longing feelings for Jisung.

You're dressed in a red dress, feeling a bit uncomfortable, formal attire is not your usual outfit choice, but Jeongho set the date in a really fancy restaurant that you're not used to.

Of course you went to fancy restaurants before, the boys took you out often to celebrate their awards and new comebacks but since you always insisted on paying for your meals, they usually went to fancy but still affordable places.

Jisung always offered to pay for your meals, but you never accepted. If he did, you were afraid you would look too much like a couple and your heart might make you even more delusional.

“Good evening, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks and you look around, trying to find your date.

“Hm, hi. I'm here to meet a person, Kang Jeongho?” You eye the list on the counter to try and see if his name is there.

“Yes, mr. Kang is waiting”, he tells you, “may I take your coat?” He asks, gesturing to the long cover you have over you.

“Ah, yes”, you say, taking the piece and giving it to him.

The man gestures for you to follow and you walk behind him to the second floor. Jeongho is waiting at a table close to the window, he's looking at the view that you can see now it's marvelous.

“Mr. Kang”, the receptionist says and Jeongho turns around, giving you a big bright smile while standing up.

“Thank you”, he tells the man who nods at you and walks back to the first floor. “You look beautiful”, he tells you, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Thank you, I didn't even know there was a second floor in this restaurant”, you say while watching him take his seat.

“Yes, they only open it on special occasions”, he says and you frown, looking around.

“You mean, they opened it so we could eat here?”

He nods, chuckling to your terrified face.

“What are you, the president’s son?” You joke, nervously, suddenly feeling absolutely out of place and underdressed.

“Not at all, you know my father and he's far away from politics”, he jokes back, “I’m friends with the son of the owner, he owed me one so I just asked for a favor”, he shrugs.

You look dumbfounded, who is this guy? Surely not the same teenager that looked absolutely heartbroken when you rejected him in middle school.

“What did you do for him to go to such lengths to pay you back?” You ask, curious.

“I introduced him to his wife”, he smiles, “he's madly in love with her, so this was nothing to how grateful he is to me”

“Oh”, you nod. That must be nice, having someone madly in love with you.

The waiter interrupts your interrogation to ask for your orders, you have no idea what to choose, but Jeongho explains to you each dish, asking if you would like something more spicy, salty or sweet and telling which one he thought you'd like better based on your answers.

“You know, you were my first crush”, Jeongho blurts out after the waiter takes the plates back to the kitchen. You feel your whole face hot, looking at him with wide eyes, “I'm sorry, I just thought you should know”, he smiles and you notice he has some deep dimples in his cheeks.

“I thought you asked me out in middle school because you lost a bet or something”, you put your hands to your cheeks, trying to ease the redness.

“I think you never gave yourself enough credit”, he points out, leaning his face on his hand while watching you. “You were always too focused on Jisung to actually see that I was not the only one looking at you with heart eyes”

You smile sheepishly, you knew your crush on your best friend was going to come up in the conversation at some point, but now that it did you don't know how to talk about it.

“Well, I found out not long ago that I was not as good as I thought at hiding my feelings”, you tell him, “apparently everyone knew that I liked my best friend—except him”

“Am I right to presume that you still have those feelings?” He asks slyly, your heart is beating fast, what if you tell him the truth and he says he doesn't want to see you anymore?

“Actually-”, you sigh, “I'm trying to get over them at the moment”

It's better he knows the truth, so he can enter this aware of your standing.

“Well, that's more than I expected”, he chuckles and you look at him confused, “I thought you were still hang up on him”

“I actually confessed”, you're feeling a bit more confident after his reaction, “and I was rejected, so I don't think there's much for me to hang on anymore”

“So, I'm sorry if I'm being too straightforward- but could I be greedy and believe I have a chance?” He asks and you're sure his eyes are wavering a bit, is he nervous? Did you actually make someone feel that way because of you?

“Yes”, you tell him, biting back a smile and blushing, he smiles at you sighing in relief.

He stands up and reaches his hand out to you.

“Then, shall we take a walk? I have a long way to make you fall for me”, he bites his bottom lip, waiting for you to take his hand.

This is it, the first step for you to get over Han Jisung.

Han sees Lia's lips move but he can't actually hear what she's saying, every word you said the last time, keeps sounding on his mind like a bloody curse.

What would he have done if he had known sooner? Would he have liked you back? Surely not, after all these years he didn't feel anything romantically related towards you, but that may be because he never thought about you in that way. Would he have told you to move on?

"Are you listening?" Jisung hears Lia say and snaps out of his thoughts.

"Yes, of course", he lies, giving her a slight smile and grabbing her hand to squeeze it.

"You're just… acting strange, since you came back from your parent’s house", she frowns.

"It's nothing, I just… had an argument with y/n and now she's mad at me", he tells a half truth.

"I'm sure she's going to forgive you", Lia says, sympathetically, "you're best friends after all"

Han nods, sighing.

He had avoided telling her the whole situation with you, it could make her insecure since you two live together.

There's something different too, he just doesn't feel the same way about her anymore, the burning flame and excitement he felt when they first started going out is slowly dying down and he just doesn't know what to do anymore.

All his previous relationships ended up because he was too busy, or because his personality didn't actually match with the other person, sometimes the girl he was dating just felt uncomfortable about his friendship with you, but he couldn't end years of friendship because he was dating so he ended the relationship.

However, Lia is different. She's great and confident, she doesn't care that he lives with you because she trusts him. She's calm, her personality is nice, she's nice. So why? Why is he feeling like this suddenly? Why is he wavering when it comes to starting this new relationship?

When he gets to practice after a weekend of resting, he is still confused, however, he's trying his best to stay focused on their new album, music is the only thing he is sure of in his life right now.

It's half past the time practice should start and Seungmin is not there yet, after one more song he asks Bangchan about it, he's starting to get worried, what if something happened to you?

“Oh, don't worry about it, he's just interviewing his roommate prospect”, Chan answers.

Han freezes. Then, that means you're going back home?

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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

Taglist(I won't be tagging people without age in their profile or blank blogs in my content)

@hhwangsmoon @weareapackofstrays @shycreationdreamland @adestayskz @skizmee @ca11me3mily @realviviboss @sofix-hc7 @seungminsapuppy @starsandrqindrops @its-hannjisung @redstayrosie @mae-is-cute98

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Marigolds In The Porch Lights (18+)

Gardener!George Harrison × GN!Reader

Genre: Smut (FINALLY), but also some Fluff and Angst

Warnings: A poor attempt at a shower sex scene, unprotected sex (ALWAYS USE PROTECTION, Y'ALL), and some kinda twisted feelings I guess idk these two are just constantly teasing each other

Words: 6.4k (I had so much fun with this y'all)

Summary: 1971 era; SEQUEL TO STRAWBERRY LEMONADE; George and Reader finally have their time together; also Geo is not famous in this so I guess it counts as AU lol

A/N: MUST READ STRAWBERRY LEMONADE FIRST FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE! But honestly the amount of requests I got to make a sequel, anyone who's here has probably already read S.L. (also thank you for all the requests! <3)

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One week had gone by since the blossoming of your new relationship with George, and you could not stop thinking about him. Calling him during the week just for your own pleasures seemed rather selfish, so you forced yourself to wait the full week until his next Saturday gardening job. After all, that wouldn’t be fair to his personal schedule, now would it?

Now, here it was, the fateful Saturday afternoon, and the anticipation was swarming you. You knew that you were always his last appointment of the week, and you would have him all to yourself from now until the sunset. You contemplated walking outside naked to greet him, but quickly remembering that neighbors exist, the idea was obligated to fade away. You still wished you could, though.

You left the gate unlocked, allowing him to let himself in. He was so caring of your space, taking time to lock the gate behind him so as not to allow the opportunity of any unwanted guests. You waited by the patio for him, prepared with another plate of fresh strawberries and a cold glass of lemonade. You made enough for two this time, specifically if those two were going to be staying together for a while.

Upon George’s entry, he eyed the fruity treats reminiscent of his previous time here. Instead of helping himself to a snack, he approached you to place a patient kiss upon your lips, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist as he did so. His other hand held his gardening toolkit, keeping it at his side while you deepened the kiss. George was almost ready to drop the bag and take you in his arms, but felt he should at least accomplish what you’re paying him for first.

“How have you been?” You started, having a bit more courage to talk to him this time. He laid out his tools as he knelt in the grass.

“Doing what I normally do, I guess.” He replied absentmindedly, “Though I was excited to get back here and see how the strawberry seeds are doing.” He flashed you a cheeky grin, and your shoulders instantly floated down to a more relaxed stance. George wasn’t big on expressing his true feelings directly, but he had his own ways of getting his point across. You slowly drifted off, listening to his voice as he spoke, until he stopped, and you realized he was waiting for you to answer his question.

“Pardon?” You squeaked, causing George to tilt his head in confusion.

“You have been watering the strawberries, right?” He repeated, gesturing to the empty space beside him, “The soil looks moist, so I’d say they’re doing well.”

“Oh! Yes,” You giggled, “I purchased a book on how to care for them the morning after you planted it.” A wide smile spread on George’s face, giving you a short nod and happily moving on to the next patch of flowers. You wore a scarlet colored dress today, planning for him to give you a matching rose from your garden. You concluded that you were the one who could determine which type of flower you receive by the color you chose to wear that day. You weren’t sure if George was also aware of this arrangement, or he just enjoyed finding flowers for you too much to notice.

You had treated this time you spent with George almost like your first date. You wanted to know everything there is to know about him, no matter how minor. In the hours that he had been there, you learned that George also knew how to play guitar, and he enjoyed writing songs, but was never really interested in the life of fame and performing to the public, so he preferred not to pursue it. Being a gardener and getting as much time in nature as he could was more than enough to make him happy.

The time went faster than you both wanted it to, partly because this time felt like you had known each other for years. George had even taken the time to show you how to tend to certain flowers, as the rules differed based on the type of plant. He showed you all his tools, demonstrating how to use them and the best places to start to preserve the flowers, as well as any of his personal favorite natural additives to help the flowers grow. You now knew that adding common household items, such as white vinegar or banana peels can give your flowers a speed boost. George even explained how ground coffee could be beneficial to the soil if you decided to start growing vegetables. His wide range of knowledge was better than any purchasable book could provide.

Before you knew it, the sky was growing orange, and the sunset was upon you. More time to spend with George aside from his occupational responsibilities was not completely out of the question, so you hadn’t lost hope yet. That is, until you saw him reach for his bag to start packing up his tools.

“You’re leaving?” You blurted out, not wanting to sound desperate but your body not even giving you a chance to consider your words. “You just got here!”

George glanced down at his watch, eliciting a small chuckle. “I’ve been here for three hours, love.”

“Well it felt like three seconds to me.” You pouted, crossing your arms and slumping back against the tree you were sitting under. “And you said we would do more together next time! That’s what you said the last time you were here!”

“And we did, didn’t we?” George replied, not missing a beat. “Last time, there was much more uncomfortable silence. This time, we had a wonderful conversation.” He paused to remove his gloves and place them in the pocket on the side of his bag, slowly rising from where he was seated in the grass. “That’s a pretty big improvement, don’t you think? It’s something I can cherish, especially since we won’t be seeing each other next week.”

Your eyes widened. Initially, you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly, but it was true. First you had missed out on quality time with George and now next week he wasn’t going to come by? You felt your heart sink, trying your hardest to keep the tears from escaping your eyes.

“Why not?” You whined, a little louder this time. You didn’t want to sound like you were throwing a tantrum, but it was difficult when that was exactly what you wanted to do.

“I’ll be out of town next weekend.” George replied matter-of-factly, “I’m going to visit my family as one of my relatives is getting married. The wedding is on Saturday, so I’ll be gone the whole weekend.”

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to do anything that would make him stay. But why? He didn’t do anything wrong, but your impression of how the day would go when he got here was a lot different than how it actually went down. You felt like you were lied to, except that you weren’t. Last week, George said that you would ‘make more time for each other’ this time, and technically, you did. He never said what that time was going to be spent on. Perhaps you two had different ideas as to what his return would bring. But instead, you tightened your chest, putting away that tantrum for your alone time later.

“But I thought-” You stopped yourself, knowing that telling George what you really wanted could potentially lead to unwanted results, especially if he didn't feel the same way.

“Thought what?” George asked, staring at you as you mentally cursed yourself for popping a corner of the lid on Pandora's Box. “Did you have a plan for today?” He was too clever. There was no going back now.

“Well…” You started, feeling a blush creep up onto your cheeks, “Sort of…”

“Oh?” He teased, the sunset casting a brilliant sparkle on those dark brown eyes, “Well, come on then. Out with it.” You pursed your lips, shifting your gaze to the floor. George leaned in closer, the coarse hairs of his mustache brushing against the shell of your ear. “So long as we're pretending I don't already know.”

He knew what you wanted. He was going to make you say it.

You stood concerningly still, almost frozen. It was a battle of wits, but you weren't exactly sure if you wanted to win or lose. If you gave up now, and spilled your guts, would you get what you wanted? Or would George continue to string you along, making you wait anyway just to see you squirm?

George sighed, looking at his watch again. “Well,” he huffed, feigning annoyance, “if you have nothing else to say, I suppose I should be going now.” He kissed your cheek, wedging his hand into your own to leave his complementary petal before making his way to the gate. You couldn't even look at him as he left, feeling too embarrassed. Instead, you looked down at your hand. A rose petal, no surprise. You were about to head inside until you heard George call your name. You partially turned around, still feeling rather conflicted. He was standing on the other side of the gate, pointing towards the patio.

“I'd turn that light on if I were you. It gets rather dark out here.” He waited for you to respond. You slowly nodded, approaching the back stairs. And with that, he got in his car and drove off.

You flipped the switch, watching as the porch light came on. It was a glimmering golden yellow hue, expanding its beam about halfway through the garden. You weren't sure why George told you to put it on, but it did make the garden look brighter. Even when you were angry with him, you would still do whatever he wanted you to.

But why were you angry? George hadn't done anything wrong. You knew he was teasing you, but you didn't care. In fact, there was a part of you that liked it. You felt like he was playing with you without even touching you. Wrapped so tightly around his finger that you felt like it was your life force. It strangled you in the best way possible. Like an invisible leash secured around your neck, and he could pull you wherever he wanted. You were completely and truly captivated by him.

Slipping quietly into the house, you felt like you wanted to cry. The anger had subsided and was soon replaced by a persistent longing. Your disdain towards having to go two weeks without seeing George wasn’t even due to the fact that you were crazy about him. It had become a routine. At this point, you wished you hadn’t been so shy to start a conversation with him the first three times he showed up. That you hadn’t waited until just this previous week. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe you’d be closer.

You didn’t know where to go from there. Part of you accepted this as what it was, and you would see George eventually, while another part of you felt defeated that you wanted to do something about this when you knew you couldn’t.

When you woke up the next morning, your house felt quieter, despite you having always lived alone. Almost like George had been staying in the guest room this whole time unbeknownst to you. Perhaps he was a frequent visitor to the guest room in your brain.

You spent the rest of your weekend like any other weekend: it was another gorgeous spring day, and you loved to sit out on the patio and catch up on your reading while you enjoyed your lunch or an afternoon snack, hearing the faint melodies coming from your living room of whatever record you put on for the occasion. It was the only time you actually preferred being alone. Perhaps it was the only activity potent enough to fill the void of your longing for George.

When night came again, you headed inside, about to shut the patio door when you swore you heard a voice.

You froze, but briefly shrugged it off as being in your head. You looked outside, barely being able to see your garden, but knowing it was only your subconscious. You shut the door, turning to walk away until you heard it again.

I’d turn that light on if I were you.

It gets rather dark out here.

You sighed. Even when George wasn’t around, you felt like he was right beside you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry, so you released a noise that sounded like a mixture of both as you flicked the porch light on, not paying it another thought as you headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Monday morning. You dreaded it more this week for some unknown yet obviously known reason. The past few weeks, you would just think about your weekend with George to get you through the boring parts of the day. But since this weekend did not pan out like you thought it would, there wasn’t much to occupy your mind. That was the hard part about all this. George didn’t have a typical nine-to-five. He would have gardening sessions scattered throughout his day. Sometimes he would be booked solid, and other days would be quick appointments for treatments, leaving more time for his personal schedule. Even if you wanted to meet up with him during the week, your strict schedule prevented you from having any time with him. Maybe something could’ve been worked out eventually, but the current state of your brain would not settle for that. You wanted him and you wanted him now.

When you got home that night, the feeling had not left. It was more manageable while you were away, but you felt like you were coming home to a house that was once full of life, only to no longer harbor that same feeling. You had never realized how much life George brought to your daily routine even when you didn’t live together. For a moment, you wondered why this was affecting you so much. Perhaps you were overreacting. You would see George again. It would just be longer than usual until you did. You released a heavy sigh, a sliver of hope that you could push this feeling out of your mind, for at least a little while, had begun to show itself.

Until night fell. You glanced at the back door.

The porch light.

That fucking porch light.

The entire time you lived here, you barely even acknowledged its existence. But ever since George made you aware of it, you think of it every night. Subconsciously, you thought maybe if you were consistent in putting it on every night, he would come back. He would find his way to you, sensing your desire to see him, and you would never be apart again. Never be alone again.

You turned it on again, simultaneously hopeful in your delusional scenario and growing impatient at how long your heart wanted to keep up the act.

The next morning, going by the door to shut the light felt like a walk of shame. What were you waiting for? George had his own schedule. His own life. He would see you when he could. You couldn’t help but start thinking if George was missing you as much as you were feeling every day was so bleak without him.

But yet, that night, you turned the porch light on again. Feeling an overwhelming, compelling urge to stay, you opened the back door, stepping out onto the patio. You stared up at the light, admiring the wonderful golden hue of the small bulb inside its painted glass shade. The shade was brushed in bright yellow, matching the bulb and some other accents of the house’s exterior decor. It seemed so much more prominent at night. It was the only thing visible from far away. A sign of life in the home. You smiled at the thought. You would’ve probably never got around to use it if it wasn’t for George. He truly did bring new life into your home.

Thanks to the light, you could see the first few rows of flowers in your garden surrounding the large tree in the center of the yard. This was your gradient row, as you loved to refer to it as. The row where George had taken many creative liberties, creating a smooth-flowing spectrum of colors around the tree like a color wheel. The warm tones faced the house, showing you your lovely spread of roses, tiger lilies, and marigolds.

The marigolds reminded you of the light. Bright, yellow, and outstanding. It was also one of the only few flowers in your garden that George had not given you petals from. You turned back to the light. You decided it could be your marigold petal. At least for now.

You didn’t stay long. You quickly returned inside, shuffling briskly back down the hall, trying to make it to the bathroom before the tears dripped off your face and down onto the floor.

The following morning, as your fingers brushed against the switch to turn off the light, you let out a loud sob. It had rained in the middle of the night, and the sight outside the back door, one of gray overcast and a messy, muddy garden, made it all feel much too real. You couldn’t hide it anymore. You missed George. Oh, how you missed him. One day a week wasn’t enough anymore. You needed more of him. So much more. More than your own mind, body, and soul would ever know.

You considered taking off work today, as your mangled emotions were surely draining your energy. But realizing that staying home would only twist the knife further, you conceded. It was almost as if any choice that life could make would've been wrong in your eyes. Whether you went to work or stayed home, you felt uncomfortable. If the work day went quickly, you were dreading coming home to face your feelings again. Yet, if the day dragged on, you groaned at the thought of having to endure more time until your fateful reunion with George. You were incessantly unsatisfied. Insatiable, even. The only correct answer was George. You needed him to give you what he had promised you, whether he was waiting for you to admit it or not. At this point, you wouldn't have even cared if you sounded desperate. You were desperate. You didn't care if you had to call him right now and divulge everything you felt. How badly you wanted and needed him. Your brain was chasing a fierce addiction, and George was your dealer.

That night had been the hardest so far. You couldn't even bring yourself to walk down that hall. The light wasn't going to be some magical beacon to signal George. You felt like you were holding onto nothing. You didn't care if the light wasn't on tonight. It made no difference anymore.

You went to sleep early that night. Your main thought process was to sleep as much as you could to make the days go by faster. You didn't even want to think about this Saturday. Your soul felt like it was grieving. But grieving what? George didn't break up with you. Technically, the two of you never even established any sort of declaration of a relationship anyway. But you felt like you belonged together. You were his and he was yours. As sweet as the thought was, you quickly shoved it away as you felt your eyes welling with tears.

You turned on your side to try and sleep when you heard a noise outside. It sounded like a low thud, but fairly close to your house. You shrugged it off at first, until you heard it again a few minutes later, sounding closer this time.

You sat up in bed, overtaken by fear. Living alone, you always worried about having to fight off intruders. Luckily, nothing had ever come of it. Until now.

Grabbing a broom from your hall closet to arm you, you headed into the living room. Your first instinct was to check out the front window, being too scared to open the door.

You peered through the curtains, seeing nothing to the left or right of the door, the street only illuminated by the porch lights of your surrounding neighbors. Of course the universe had to think of a way to remind you of what you were desperately trying to put out of your head.

You closed the curtains, ready to go back to bed when you heard what sounded like wet footsteps coming from your back door.

Oh fuck.

If this really was an intruder situation, you were anything but prepared. You glanced at the back door, hiding behind the hall corner. With your breath held and your muscles stiff as the wooden boards beneath your feet, you took slow steps down the hall. You lurched forward to quickly lock the door, which you normally did anyway but forgot that night as you never actually made it to the door without crying.

Knowing that the lock was safely in place brought you some time. Being closer to the door, you heard another sloshing sound, as well as some angry muttering. With your luck, the intruder slipped on the wet and muddy grass and was now disoriented, leaving you time to- well, do what, exactly?

You hadn't thought this far. Do you call the police? Make a loud noise in retaliation in hopes to scare them away? Armor yourself with throw pillows to burst through the door and use your broomstick to beat them senseless? Your mind was racing. The most reasonable thing to do in that moment, although it hurt quite a bit, would be the answer to whether this was really a life or death situation.

You turned on the porch light.

When the illuminating glow hit the grass below, you saw a person laying there, covered in mud, clearly not anticipating the new biome that had been created in your backyard. You screamed, causing the person to immediately look up at you. Upon making eye contact, you felt your heart spring up into your throat before free falling down to your stomach. You threw open the door, feeling like you were being fled with a million emotions at once, all conflicting each other. You stood there in shock, only being able to choke out one single word.

“...George?”

“I thought I told you to keep that bloody light on! I almost broke my neck out here!” George shouted, but couldn't keep a straight face long enough to be convincing, dissolving into a puddle of laughs back onto the ground. You felt your whole body fill with happiness. You dropped the broom, running out into the yard, slippers and all, squealing all the way before landing on top of him, trapping him in a tight hug.

You kissed him faster than your brain could process what you were doing. The familiar feeling of his soft skin, luscious hair and beard, and plush lips made your whole being swell with euphoria. Your golden yellow silk pajamas were now full of mud, but it didn't matter. George was back here with you. And you didn't need anything else.

“You’re getting all muddy, love.” George giggled, pushing damp strands of hair away from your face.

“I don't care!” You shouted while laughing, pressing loud, wet kisses across his face and neck. George wrapped his arms around you, resting his hands on your waist. You pulled away, staring into his eyes. It may have been late at night, but you felt wide awake as ever. Before you even opened your mouth to speak, you knew there were tears dripping down onto your cheeks. “I didn't think I'd see you again for a while.”

“I planned to stop by before I left, but I didn't have much time during the day.” George confessed. “I wanted to surprise you, but I'm realizing it might have been a better idea in my head.” He looked around the yard, then at his muddy clothes, eliciting a light chuckle. “Thinking about it now, I probably should've called first.”

“I'm just so happy to see you.” You replied, not even hearing half of what he said. You heard he planned to come back for you, and that was all you needed to know. “But I'm guessing your plan involved you being able to see once you got back here. Hence the, you know, porch light.” You averted your gaze, adding a nervous laugh.

“First I tried hopping over the fence, and tripped over that.” George explained, staring back at the gate. “Then I tried to walk quietly, and slipped in that big puddle over there. Not to mention I tripped over the center gradient, so I apologize for that. I'll be sure to fix it the next time I'm around.” He added with a swift cup of your chin and a kiss to your lips. You looked at the tree, seeing the warm toned flowers slightly uprooted, tiny specks of dirt adorning their golden petals. Honestly, that didn't even matter to you. The image of George trying to sneak into your backyard and failing miserably made you erupt into laughter again.

“I suggest you have to get cleaned up now, don't you?” You asked, running a finger through the thick layer of mud adorning his jeans.

“Well, yeah, but I refuse to get your floors all dirty.” George declared. You helped him up off the ground, trying your best to smudge the dirt out of his hair, as well as your own.

“You can leave the clothes in the laundry room. I'll deal with them tomorrow.” You replied. George shot you a look, helping you brush some of the grass off your pajamas.

“So it's already been decided that I'm spending the night, then?” You smirked, not saying anything back. George smiled, sneakily pinching the skin on your waist. You squealed, playfully batting his hand away. You turned to walk back to the patio when he spoke again.

“Even after we get out of these filthy clothes, we still have to get ourselves clean, you know.”

You froze, a chill running through your spine, excitement filling your body. You whipped your head around, grabbing George’s hand and leading him to the stairs. You were about to open the door when he put his arm out to stop you.

“I know you're excited, love, but I still don’t want to bring all this mud into your clean house.” He seemed genuinely concerned by this issue, but at this point, nothing was going to stop you.

“Okay, fine. Easy fix.” You stated, slipping the straps of your pajamas off your shoulders, followed by your underwear. George’s eyes widened as he watched the silken fabric pool around your ankles, leaving you completely nude standing on the patio. The cool air of this particular spring night began to wash over your body, and you shivered slightly. You weren't sure if it was from the sudden breeze, or the tantalizing feeling of this whole situation, but either way, your nipples were completely hard.

Seconds later, George followed suit, removing his muddy shoes, followed by his equally sodden shirt and pants. He stopped at his underwear, feeling a flash of uncertainty. He was no stranger to being nude, but being nude while standing on the back porch of his lover’s house in the middle of their classy suburban neighborhood? That was a new one.

He turned back to you, taking in the sight before him. Seeing your fully bare form, taking one slow drag of his eyes over your lower half, he quickly shuffled off the remaining piece of clothing and tossed it on the floor with the rest. You opened the door, scooping your clothes up in one swift motion, walking a mere few feet and tossing them in the laundry room to be dealt with eventually. You couldn’t be bothered right now. George did the same, keeping his clothes in a neat pile right beside yours, placing his boots by the door. He stood there for a few seconds, gauging your readiness to proceed. With a smirk on your face, you grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom.

You opened the shower curtain and turned the water on, feeling the warm steam slowly fill the room. You adjusted the water to a comfortably neutral temperature before climbing inside, leaving space for George to join you. You stayed under the stream of water, allowing it to take its time to rinse all the mud off your arms and legs, and most of it out of your hair, leaving you with a fresher start before moving on to shampoo and soap. You looked over your shoulder at George, who now seemed rather chilly, so you switched places, allowing him to rinse off as well. He had been wearing more covering clothes than you, so there wasn’t much dirt he needed to get off his body, but his hair was a different story. He spent extra time using his fingers to comb through his beard, which seemed to be a prime target for all that grass and soil.

Getting started on washing your body, you had briefly turned away from George to grab your soap. Before you could open the container, you heard a low shudder coming from behind you. You looked at George, who was now staring at you, while sporting quite the erection. You giggled, lightly poking his stomach. “Am I taking too long for you?”

“You know, for someone who wanted me so badly outside, and is now teasing me about having to wait, you’re quite mad, aren’t you?” He stated, glancing down at himself while continuing to rinse his hair. You laughed louder this time.

“I figured we would clean up first.” You said innocently. He chuckled.

“Why do that when we’re just gonna get dirty again, love?”

You bit your lip, holding back a whimper, but the way your legs involuntarily began to clench shut gave it away immediately.

You nodded. “I see. Well let’s get it on then.”

The second you finished your statement, George wasted no time grabbing your waist and pressing his lips against yours. It was a hungry kiss. Passionate. Longing. It had confirmed he missed you just as much as you missed him. You put your hands in his hair, which was now much softer under the water. You were the one to take that passion further, feeling his lips part and allowing your tongue to enter his mouth. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy this, moving his hands from your waist down to your ass, kneading it softly yet with an impatient edge to it. You were tempted to hook one leg over his waist, but the slippery floor beneath you made you fearful of losing your balance, so you refrained. But you wouldn't have even had time to take action, as George quickly pulled away, spinning you around and pushing you up against the shower wall. You put your hands out, both of them splayed out on either side of your head as your cheek made contact with the cold tile. George grabbed your waist again, slowly grinding against you, slightly pressing you between the wall and himself. The contrast in temperature between the cool, flat surface and the steamy air made your head spin before he even did anything else. He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

“I think you've waited long enough, my beautiful flower.” You moaned softly at his statement as you felt him enter you. Slowly, savoring it just as much as you. It was a bit of a stretch, but you never found it painful. The combination of the warm water and your mutual arousal provided a decent amount of lubrication.

George continued to leave kisses around the shell of your ear and down to your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder. Once he was all the way in, he steadied himself before going any further. “You doing okay, love?” He cooed, patiently waiting for your response.

You sighed blissfully, softly nodding your head and letting out a low “mhm” while taking in all the sensations around you. The mix of everything made you whine in pure ecstasy, feeling so full in the best way possible, not wanting to say or move much in fear of losing your grip on it. You felt like you were in a different world, where it was only you and George, and nothing else mattered. However, you were not in the mood to be kept waiting either, feeling like you were holding your breath a bit, waiting for his next move. You took another deep inhale and exhale, releasing another moan in the interim. “It's okay,” you mumbled, “you can keep going.”

George nodded, starting with a soft, slow pace. Even with shallow thrusts, you were already in heaven. You quickly got lost in the rhythm, hearing his occasional breathy sighs directly into your ear. Hearing him enjoy it just as much as you were only turned you on more. And the more George fell into a rhythm as well, the faster he went. His thrusts became quicker and harder, pushing you up against the wall with each motion. Your moans had just become one long groan of pleasure, the way your nipples dragged across the cold wall with each thrust stringing you along even further.

When you felt that pressure start to build, you couldn't even form a coherent sentence to signal anything, the only word falling from your lips a meek “George...” before a high-pitched whining overtook you again. George shushed you softly, rubbing his thumbs along your waist as he brought you closer to the edge.

“I know, flower. I know.”

What felt like seconds later, you felt your orgasm crash over you, a noise that sounded like a mix between a moan and a scream flying from your mouth, proclaiming your everlasting love and worship of the man behind you, feeling yourself begin to slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath. George finished shortly afterwards, his grip on your hips tightening as he came inside you. He tilted his head back, a low, steady groan signaling his release. He had no choice but to use the wall for support as well, nearly falling on top of you after he slowly slid out. It was times like these you considered turning off the shower head and just filling up the bath instead, as your legs felt like jelly by this point, leaving you with minimal energy to hold yourself up.

Before you could say anything else, you felt George’s hands on you again, running his fingers through your hair. You smelled the familiar scent of your shampoo, feeling it glide through your hair as you closed your eyes again. He held you tenderly, guiding your head to the water, gently tilting it back to rinse the suds from your hair.

Once finished, he started on your body, massaging the soap all over your back, making sure to be careful around any areas that were currently more sensitive than usual. You sighed happily, feeling pampered like royalty, so grateful to have him here with you.

After a few minutes, your legs didn't feel like that of a newborn giraffe anymore, so you turned around to face George, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before taking the bar of soap. “I got it from here.” You giggled, finishing yourself off before starting to help him out as he eyed your shampoo. It wasn't what he used, but it smelled nice, and there wasn’t much of a choice in this situation. He chuckled before squeezing a small amount onto his palm, looking down as you lathered up his chest and stomach.

Once you both had thoroughly cleaned up, you turned off the water and stepped out, fetching some large fluffy towels and equally soft robes to only increase your level of comfort. By now, both of you were free of mud, partially dry, and ever so tired. Wasting no time to climb into bed, you snuggled up against George, resting your head on his chest.

“I'm so happy you came back.” You whispered, placing a kiss right over where his heart is. George giggled, caressing your arm.

“I would've always come back, flower.” He paused with a pensive sigh. “I enjoy every second I spend with you. You give me new life. A new purpose to an already wonderful experience.” You stared up at him, eyes wide in awe. It was the first time he had openly expressed his feelings to you without hiding them behind his usual cheeky humor. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

“You have no idea how special you are to me.” You beamed, craning your neck up to kiss his jawline, surprised when he turned his face and you landed on his lips instead.

“And you to me.” He replied. You enjoyed the streak of added sappy statements from George, but you knew it was a big step for him, judging by the deep breath he took afterwards, followed by a swift “Let's get some sleep, love.”

“Okay,” you agreed, “but let me just make sure I locked the back door first.” George nodded, getting comfortable on his side of your bed as you hopped out from under the covers, shivering again as the cool night air came back with a vengeance on your naked body. You quickly put your robe on and shuffled down the hall. You clicked the lock shut and went to go back to your room when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Something yellow.

You looked around until you spotted it again, sticking out of the side of George’s boot. Bending down to get a closer look, you moved the muddy laces and pulled it out. A tear almost fell down your cheek and you held it between your fingers. A petal from one of your precious marigolds, presumably stuck there when George tripped over them on the way in. You smiled warmly, feeling your heart soar at the idea that George can give you a petal every visit, even if he didn't realize it. Without saying anything, you put the petal in the pocket of your robe and made your way down the hall, trying not to disturb George as you quietly slipped back into bed.

==============================

IT'S FINALLY HERE Y'ALL 😄 I'm so happy I can share it and it was definitely a fun plot to continue!

Taglist: @peaceloveandstarrs @queen-of-stars @nosegoes @cocteautwiny @thatgoesinthere-misshapes

(If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to send an ask and let me know! 🥰)

[that-tmr-girl]

Quiet Down

Despite thinking he's being sneaky, it's obvious what Thomas is doing in the showers.

Masterbation

Thomas didn't have the best ideas all the time. Sure. Sometimes they were fine, but he didn't always think them though.

He should realistically realize that no amount of water could cover the sound of him jerking off faster than he could run, his hand moving up and down on his dick as he carelessly moaned. That really should be obvious, but for some reason it wasn't. Maybe because he couldn't think straight. Not until he had a release. Plus, he had never been caught before. Not that he knew of at least.

Groaning and grunting, he kept stroking himself, his eyes half shut in pleasure. He could feel himself getting closer to his release as he frantically tried to speed up.

You definitely heard. How could you not?

After a long day of being outside, sweating a ridiculous amount, you couldn't find the ability to care anymore. It was honestly easier to just try to take your own shower and pretend you couldn't hear Thomas a few doors down, going at himself. You just tried to wash yourself off, wishing that the sounds were blocked out the way he seemed to believe.

He twitched in his hand as he was right there. With his eyes completely shut, he envisioned you, something he knew he shouldn't do but couldn't help. For some reason, it seemed to be the only way to finish, the only way to push him over the edge.

“Shuck, Y/N,”He loudly moaned, his head thrown back as he finished. Your eyes were wide as your face warmed at the realization.

When you heard him stop, you sighed to yourself before finishing up your shower. Shaking your head at the way you had actually heard Thomas masterbate to the thought of you, you dressed so you could get ready for dinner.

Having just finished rewashing himself, Thomas threw on new, fresh clothes, feeling just a little more relaxed than before. He couldn't help but think that he had definitely needed that and after being in the maze all day, earned it even.

He walked out to where everyone was eating, his posture significantly more relaxed than it had been the entire day.

He couldn't quite look you in the eyes despite sitting beside you, which is probably good. A little bit of shame was probably needed, but he was sure he would be completely back to normal and better than ever in a few hours.

“Ready to do that all over again tomorrow?”Minho asked.

“What?”He asked quickly, his heart racing at the thought that anyone knew.

“You know? Go running again?”He clarified.

“Oh. That,”He said, heaving a sigh of relief as he slightly leaned back with his plate still in his hand.

“Yes. That,”Minho deadpanned, rolling his eyes a little.

“Yeah. I mean I've got to be, right?”He shrugged.

“Yeah. You do,”He nodded, taking the last bite of his food. You watched him empty his bowl while almost being ready to do the same. You couldn't help but think that if Thomas hadn't been so busy pleasuring himself he could have beaten all of you for dinner. Instead, he’ll be the last one with food.

Standing up, Minho gave you a half hearted wave before going to give his plate to Fry. You nodded your head as acknowledgement before going back to your meal.

Thomas’s heart was just beginning to calm down in his chest. He silently reassured himself that nobody knew as he started eating in silence with you. The shower blocked out the sound, and he was totally fine.

You finished the last bite as well, closing your eyes for a moment to savor it. When you swallowed you sighed a little bit at the way another successful day had been completed.

You glanced over at Thomas for a moment. As you saw him leaning back, eating without a care in the world, you decided he was too relaxed.

“I highly doubt Minho would ask if you were ready to jerk off in the showers again, though seeing as you're delusional enough to think water covers up the sound of your moans, I can't say I’m surprised you thought that,”You whispered in his ear. He turned beat red as he choked on his food for a moment. Paying it no mind, you clapped him on the back before getting up to also get your plate cleaned off.

Thomas watched in absolute horror as every part of him burned.

It looks like he has to find a new place to pleasure himself. Or at the very least, not moan so damn loud.

[octuscle]

Hello Sir! I know you can help me with my problem. Soon new year, and in new year I want become big brut hairy bear, with bald head. I ready pay any price for it. Can you help me in this question?

You couldn't necessarily tell by looking at Liam. But he was already 19 years old. He constantly had to show his ID. He was annoyed. At least he wasn't ugly. On the contrary. He had hundreds of followers on TikTok. But most of them thought he was a kid. No one believed that he had finished school and wanted to start training as a draughtsman the following year. When he asked a construction company for an internship until then, they told him that they didn't accept underage trainees.

"Guys, how old do you think I am? And what can I do to be thought of as older?" Liam added to his new pic. Comments poured in. bears_and_boys_1982 sent him a link. Looked interesting. Probably something similar to FaceApp, Liam thought. He downloaded the app. And nothing happened. One of his buddies had replied that he should meet them for a cigarette and a beer at the bus stop. If he smoked enough, he would soon look older too. Liam laughed, put on his fake Moncler jacket and set off to meet his mates.

It was already after 11 p.m. and Liam was just about to turn out the lights when his cell phone beeped. "Installation complete, defining profile" was on the display. What the hell? Ah, the app from the bear and boy guy, Liam remembered. Let's see. It really was something similar to FaceApp. And it seemed to be free. You could capture a whole range of things. Age, occupation, hobbies, weight, height. Liam played around a bit. But it was awkward to use, the interfaces were old-fashioned, and there were no pictures or graphics anywhere. Liam lost the fun pretty quickly. He was also tired. He locked the phone, put it on the bedside table, turned off the light and soon fell asleep. The cell phone buzzed a few times during the night. Messages lit up. "Settings saved", "Target defined" and finally "Transformation started". After that, there was silence. Until the alarm clock rang at 04:30.

Quietly, so as not to wake his parents, Liam went to the bathroom. This internship was exhausting, but also fun. He was assigned to the bricklayers. Actually, he would have preferred to do something in the office on the computer. But his colleagues were nice and he had the feeling that working in the fresh air was good for him. Showering before work was silly. Liam sprayed some Axe under his arms, brushed his teeth and set off. The bus always picked him up at 05:00 and drove him to the construction site with the other colleagues.

After work, Liam drove back to his parents' house. His father needed help building the new carport. In other words, Liam was supposed to build a new carport. Initially, Liam's parents had grumbled that Liam didn't want to study, but only wanted to be a craftsman. Nowadays, the two wizened academics were happy that at least one of the family knew how to work. Before it got dark, Liam prepared the concrete for the foundations, dug the holes for the foundations, built the formwork and poured the foundations for the carport. Tomorrow he would install the support beams. Liam declined his mother's offer to stay for dinner. He had an appointment with a few colleagues for a beer. And even though the work had been exhausting enough, he would still like to go to the gym for an hour beforehand. He was increasingly developing a paunch from too much beer and too much junk food.

Life on the construction site was a man's world. The containers were small and stuffy. Especially for a colossus like Liam. The bunk bed, where Liam slept downstairs for safety reasons, was hardly more spacious than in a submarine. The air reeked of sweat, beer and male farts. But mostly also of cum and testosterone. Liam loved this world. He was almost always sorry to go back home at the weekend. Here there was always the opportunity for a quick fuck or a blowjob, just like tonight in the shower room. The apprentice looked almost greedily at Liam's fat, cheesy and uncut cock. It didn't matter whether colleagues were about to join him. At best, an orgy would develop.

The weekend at last. Liam had been a foreman on the construction site for a long time, but his boss still called him home at weekends to do smaller jobs. Hehehe, Liam knew what these tasks were. As a rule, his boss's wife wasn't at home on weekends like that. The boss would then cover the beds with the leather sheets that he hid from his wife in the tool shed and Liam would then fuck him on the sheets, in the hot tub or on the kitchen table.

He always felt a little uncomfortable in his boss's house. He hated the pictures of that princess who died a hundred years ago hanging at the shithouse. And he constantly had to be careful not to lose any of his body hair or beard, which could make his boss's wife suspicious. And Liam was constantly losing hair everywhere. Especially from his head. But Liam also didn't give a shit about his boss's problems. There was a good commission for the weekend work. And there was also commission if he pissed standing up and didn't lift up the toilet seat or if he shot his cum on the carpet while he was cumming. The rest wasn't his problem. By the time his boss's wife came back from the yoga weekend, he was long back in his man cave. With a bit of luck, with the hot apprentice's head between his thighs.

Pic of the former Liam found @toughukladz and pic of the current Liam found @eurobeef

[verdantwyrm]

I guess I'll be the anon to ask, but hello!! What do you think they all smell like ;0 and further more, what smells do you think THEY like?

Anya gives me very classic linen and vanilla vibes; nothing overwhelming, but that's me...

Oh I'm so glad you asked, this is going to be related to my afterwashing au and general showering/hygiene headcanons

Jimmy

He smells like cigarettes, cheap cologne and aftershave. He does shower pretty regularly but he doesn't really.. do much. Maybe some soap, maybe some body wash, maybe some shampoo or conditioner but it entirely depends on how alive he feels that day. Spends alot of the time in the shower just kind of starting at the wall. He smokes the most out of all of them, and it leaves a bit of a stain on his clothes. He doesn't smell god awful, he just smells like an average guy, he can totally smell really nice and use all the fancy soaps if he wants to but he doesn't ever have a reason to.

Probably tries to shower at least 3-4 times a week but it gets exhausting sometimes, his depression really gets in the way and sometimes Curly has to annoy him to take care of himself.

Curly

Definitely smells a bit like Jimmy does but more.. warm? He smells comforting, even if he stinks. Nice cologne, some cigarette smoke but its not offensive to the nose, coconut flavoured shampoo, sweat, shaving cream and coffee grinds. Even though he doesn't drink coffee that often, he always smells like a fresh batch. He probably showers the most right along side Daisuke, really good habits and beard + hair care as well. He puts effort into his hygiene because he wants to always have first impressions on his side, and that a captain should look and smell clean because cleanliness is a sign of good health and prosperity, its almost ritualistic for him every morning.

8/10, smells amazing but it can be very overwhelming if you stand next to him for a long time, Jimmy thinks its "posh". He likes feeling clean and pressed, puts him in a good mood, he also believes going to bed clean and fresh will improve his sleeping, and it does! sometimes.

Anya

She smells probably the most basic of the crew, she has very long showers and uses orange scented shampoo and body wash. Absolutely has a five-step skincare routine that she does once a week with Daisuke and even Curly sometimes if she can convince him to relax. She tries to take care of her skin especially since nurses and doctors are prone to stress wrinkles and blemishes. She smells like printer paper, oranges, tea and a small hint of perfume. On the ship she doesn't need to try too hard, but she believes in the same principle that Curly has about cleanliness. Her hair is extremely soft despite the rough look it has sometimes.

10/10 for simplicity while still smelling nice and not too overwhelming. Its very comforting.

Daisuke

An absolute explosion of tropical smells. Cologne that smells exactly the same way a bite into a hunk of pineapple tastes and feels, shampoo, moisturiser and bodywash that smells so intoxicatingly sweet with a small hint of sweat and grease behind it. He showers the most, short ones but very very frequently. Hot as hell, burns your skin almost and then douses himself in ice cold water afterwards, then does his ridiculous 10 step hair routine. He takes very good hair of it, no split ends, no drying out, soft, bouncy and full of volume. He is an assault to Jimmy and Swansea's nose, but at least its a good smell! Albeit overwhelming.

8/10 Anya loves the way he smells, won't admit that its simply too much because after a while of smelling nothing but the ship and regurgitated oxygen, you tend to crave new sensations.

Swansea

Probably the most basic of the basic. He smells like grease, electrical fires, sweat, "manly" cologne that smells like lemons and coffee. He showers pretty often but doesn't really care much for all the fancy stuff. He uses soap, all that, but it never lasts too long because he is almost always covered in some sort of mysterious substance from whatever he's working on. His shirt has multiple little holes in it from small electrical fires or getting caught on a hook or tool as he walks by. He smells like a dad, Anya and Curly find it almost comforting because it reminds them of their dads in a way.

Swansea smells like the work he does, and its evidence that he really does roll up his sleeves and gets the job done. He smells like commitment. 10/10

[quinacridonered]

Rings of Power Recap - Season 2, Episode 6

Orc #1: All I wanted was to settle quietly in a suburb of Mordor.

Orc #2: You still can. 

Orc #3: Put a downpayment on an ox… 

Orc #1: Get a warg puppy for the wee ones…

Arondir: Nope.

—

Passing Mouse: You look like you’ve been subsisting on pizza, but apparently it’s all scrap metal?

Assistants: Good point. Lord Celebrimbor?

Celebrimbor: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow… Creeps at this petty pace from day to day…

Mirdania: Shall we order some pizza, my lord?

Celebrimbor: Who the fuck are you?

Sauron: Perhaps you should stop spending the food budget on Red Bull and vodka.

—

Eregion Citizens: Lord Celebrimbor!

Sauron: I’m taking over. What’s up, citizens?

City Guards: The only inbound traffic has been dead bodies covered in foreign graffiti.

Sauron: All is well. You are getting very sleepy. 

Mirdania: I don’t feel sleepy. Your new dress is making me very awake indeed.

Sauron: Don’t worry, we’ll get you one just like it.

—

Orc Daddy: We both love-hate Sauron. Friends forever?

Galadriel: You are the only one who understands.

Orc Daddy: Look, I got you fresh produce and everything.

Galadriel: Aw. You’re really trying.

Orc Daddy: What’s new in your world?

Galadriel: *full disclosure of elven state secrets*

Orc Daddy: You know how Sauron makes you feel seen and understood, and then you give him what he wants, and then he totally fucks you over?

Galadriel: Uh-huh…

Orc Daddy: I did mention he was my leader and teacher for centuries, right?

Galadriel: What’s Black Speech for “fuck my life”?

—

Elendil: Traitor!

Pharazon: Takes one to know one.

Elendil: The Valar will show who’s right.

Pharazon: Brilliant idea. 

—

Homeless Wizard: What episode is it?

Tom Bombadil: Episode 6, why?

Homeless Wizard: Does time flow differently in Rhûn? My plot feels like it hasn’t moved in months.

Tom Bombadil: Fine. Here’s the next bit. Betray your friends or doom the world.

Homeless Wizard: Suddenly I miss when you were just forcing me to bathe.

—

Poppy’s Love Life: *occurs*

—

King Durin: Look who’s here!

Prince Durin: Annatar. You look… asymmetrical.

Sauron: What can I give you for more mithril? Timber? Grain? Eregion’s finest virgins every full moon?

Prince Durin: I need a shower just talking to you.

King Durin: I am knee deep in all the virgins I could possibly want.

Balrog, via Fire Zoom Call: Cousin! Missed ya, where you been?

Sauron:  Spent a millennium as evil goo. Not my best moment.

Balrog: Sworn enemies?

Sauron: Disloyal minions.

Balrog: Gets you every time.

King Durin: *taking notes* Watch out… for disloyal… minions…

—

Disa: Is he still…

Prince Durin: He’s worse.

Disa: I hear the League of Disloyal Minions is looking for new members.

Prince Durin: He’s my Dad. I can’t do it.

Disa: Who do you fear more, me or him?

Prince Durin: Tough call, but frankly, you.

—

Pharazon: We’re gonna feed you to the Sea Wyrm. 

Elendil: I’ll take that over your company.

Miriel: Over my dead body. I mean it literally.

Guards: Incoming!

Eldritch Marine Horror: I’m hangry.

Miriel: I am the rightful monarch of Numenor.

Eldritch Marine Horror: For fuck’s sake. This used to be a normal ocean. Now it’s crawling with the cosmically significant. Is there at least a fish and chips?

Pharazon: We can hook you up with some gumbo.

Crowd: MI-RI-EL!

Giant Eagle: My god, they are fickle here.

—

Eregion Citizens: Oh shit. Orcs. Many.

Sauron: Celebrimbor! Chop fucking chop! I can’t move this whole forge into a trebuchet projectile shelter now, can I? You wanted the world’s tallest tower and now you work in the world’s easiest target!

Celebrimbor: This is the point in our relationship where I normalise physical violence.

Sauron: Baby, I thought you’d never ask.

—

Hallucinatory Eregion Citizens: What a fine sunny day we are having in the middle of the night. 

Clock tower: *strikes thirteen*

Sauron: Asking nicely for the last time: make the fucking rings. Here’s your grandpa’s hammer. Go get ‘em, tiger, etc.

Celebrimbor: Rings… Gotta make some rings…

Sauron: Servants! New case of Red Bull and some Zero Age tequila! Let's party like it's 1999!

[loth-creatures]

I’d love to hear your wall of text about the Sion’s voyage!

Aight, so if there's one thing I hated about the show it's that the journey to a whole ass new galaxy felt like it took 5 minutes. So in my star war it takes roughly 7 weeks and it fucking SUCKS

Disclaimer; this is just a huge mess from my head, nothing is set in stone, and I'm only really planning to comicify the last few parts ;)

Also cw for some implied self-harm ideation, terrible coping mechanisms, deteriorating mental health, violence and injuries (just mentioned, not in detail)

To set the scene, they're using the training/rec room as Sabine’s prison bc Wolfbine is too big for the actual brig lol. Much to the entire crew's irritation. The first week or two they just handcuff her in a corner at blasterpoint whenever they want to use it I guess, and find a closet to lock loose equipment in. At least she gets some entertainment. She probably also gets beat up a few times (you should see the other guy) for commenting on people's techniques. But eventually they decide she probably won't try anything and stop caring she's there, so she's left alone for the most part.

She spends a lot of time working out, bc otherwise she is strongly considering bashing her head into the wall. Having to sit alone as a human and pace in circles as a wolf for days on end with the weight of her decision and all kinds of fresh guilt is doing terrible things to her head...She is also spending a lot of time trying and failing not to sob and scream in the shower when no one's around. There is also a viewport in the rec room and Sabine spends an unhealthy amount of time staring into the rainbow swirl of hyperspace. She can't tell whether or not she's hallucinating the strange shapes that occasionally drift into view, singing strange songs that she can feel more than hear. It reminds her of the ocean and she shudders and dreams of drowning, being crushed by the depths. And she dreams of Ezra alone and lost in this void. There's no easy way to break free of such thoughts when she's essentially trapped in a fish bowl.

Meanwhile, Shin hates Sabine even more now for making her a Wolfwalker. She is not adjusting well to turning into a giant beast every time she tries to sleep and on a cramped vessel with little space to stretch those legs. Having been bitten only just before boarding the Sion, she hasn't had the chance to run wild for miles with the wind in her fur; all she knows is that the journey feels twice as long and horrid when she's consious 24/7. Baylan, on the other hand, is like DO YOU REALIZE HOW AWESOME THIS IS?! YOU SHOULD BE THANKING HER. He's not jealous persay, but. Well. Careful what you wish for...

Wolf Sabine and Shin are both getting major zoochosis smh. It's a miracle Shin hasn't killed a random crew member yet. Wolfbine behaves for maybe a week before she starts chewing up the flooring and howling and screaming husky style just to be a little shit. See how long it takes before someone threatens to shoot her, muzzle her, throw her out the airlock (not long). She can't afford to antagonize the crew too much bc there is only one person on the entire ship who wants her there and he has limited authority. Baylan is quick to remind her of this.

He also makes several attempts to talk to her and get on better terms, as he would like to learn more about the wolves. He tells her of the old fragments of stories of Wolfwalkers he found in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant and his facsination with them and how chasing such tales lead to his other ambitions. Lowkey info-dumping about all the fairy-tales and mythalogical stuff that Shin never took an interest in. Sabine is deathly bored enough to tolerate it to extent, but she is not forgiving him for 'killing' Ahsoka, for digging in her head, for putting her in this situation, and she is absolutely kicking herself for having bitten Shin. For letting anyone affiliated with the Empire close to Lothal's secrets. Too her it's put a deep crack through her promise to protect Lothal, perhaps not as much as having given Thrawn a way home, but she's going to try her damnest to undo that one, and shoves that looming guilt aside as best she can, instead spiraling about the fact that she made Shin a Wolfwalker and short of killing her there is no undoing that. So most of her conversations with Baylan end with telling him to go fuck himself.

Just now realizing I've never gone into detail about why Sabine bit Shin. It was a complete accident. Split second reaction out of pain after taking another small slice from Shin’s lightsaber during their fight on Seatos, which she was able to heal herself but it slowed her down enough for Shin to escape. With a nasty little nip to the arm.

That all said Sabine does not want to kill Shin, in fact she's just starting to feel sorry for her. Shin might be all MY ARCH NEMESIS SABINE WREN, but from the beginning Sabine is just like ugh can this random chick stop making my life harder 🙄

And if she's this miserable as a wolf rn, she can imagine what Shin's going through as a first timer, which is all her fault :( plus the fact that as wolves they are instinctively drawn to other wolves and each of their suffering seems to exacerbate the other's. They are both so lonely. 2 weeks in and (human)Sabine is bored and desperate enough to try heckling Shin into sparring with her, on the rare occasion she passes by (Shin’s been avoiding that room). 3 weeks in and Shin's gotten bored and desperate enough to accept the invitation.

I hc that during a friendly match, most Force-users will refrain from using the Force against a non-Force-user for the most part. Shin is not interested in friendly and absolutely hammers Sabine unless Baylan is there to remind her to play nice. Sabine is fine with this. She wants Shin to use the Force (come at me bro). If anyone's gonna be holding back it's Sabine. She wants to get as familiar as possible with Shin's fighting skill and habits without revealing the full extent of her own, while also slowly learning to anticipate and work around Shin’s use of the Force. That way she'll have an advantage the next time they fight for reals. It's difficult to impossible to hold back though, while still presenting enough of a challenge to keep Shin coming back for more.

While Sabine is more experienced, with a wider range of techniques and more refined skill, Shin is still skilled and powerful and it's hardly a fair fight without her armor and gear. She gets her shit rocked.

Sabine is very rarely able to beat Shin when she's using the Force. But she can withstand her. Many of their fights don't end with a quick, decisive victory so much as Shin just wearing Sabine down until she physically can't fight anymore though she refuses to tap out or surrender. Because for one, it's pissing Shin off, which is fun. And for two, ending the fight means returning to the hell that is sitting alone and staring out that window until it makes her sick in the head. She would kill a man for a single can of paint.

While Shin is toying with Sabine and using her as a bunching bag on the basis that she asked for it, keeps asking for it, doesn't know when to give up, and totally deserves it 😤, she is no easy opponent and Shin is continuously shocked by Sabine's ability to survive her. She was supposed to be just another enemy to tear through, yet has survived two murder attempts, and Shin is now stuck with her on this godforsaken ship for some reason, and she doesn't even have the grace to admit when she's defeated. Unstoppable force has met unmovable object.

Shin simultaneously resents and admires her, though doesn't quite respect her yet. And she definitely fears her a little (though she would never admit that). I kinda get the vibe that Shin’s never really lost a fight, has never truly been left for dead at the end of a battle, and the thought terrifies her. Either she is invincible or she is dead. Meanwhile Sabine can be coughing up blood and she'll be like 'cool see you tmr'✌️😎 The fact that Shin probably deleted one of Sabine's kidneys on Lothal and she seems hardly intimidated is well. Intimidating. And annoying. And hot.

I feel like at some point Baylan would point out that Shin could probably learn a thing or two from Sabine if she would stop beating the shit out of her for two seconds. Shin is already aware of that but doesn't want to admit it.

Meanwhile Sabine just doesn't care anymore what happens to her as long as she lives long enough to get off this accursed vessel, doesn't care how hurt she gets, as long as it passes the time and distracts her from her spiraling thoughts. She's offered a medic multiple times and refuses each time. She doesn't want them seeing the full extent of her injuries and then finding out she can heal herself with the wolf-magic, bc the Empire doesn't need to know about that. She only heals the worst injuries and then gaslights Shin about it. 'You did not break any ribs lol I'm fine quit flattering yourself.' Shin’s like how the fuck are you still standing.

This routine of brutally taking out their frustrations on each other is gonna get old though, and is completely unsustainable. Eventually Shin’s convinced that Sabine is just using her for pain. Which isn't wrong even if it's not the only or even primary reason Sabine keeps asking. Sabine calls her out on fighting like a coward and enjoying hurting her anyway. Shin goes and sulks for a few days after that (not without punching Sabine in face first).

Ok time out. What the hell is Shin’s deal anyway. I have only some half-baked ideas about Baylan and Shin’s...thing. They're like the closest thing we've gotten to 'grey Jedi?' I guess? I've been operating under the assumption that that's what they're essentially trying to be (though it's not what they'd call themselves), something more than Jedi, Baylan says, and that 'more' is just chasing power. They will inevitably fall completely. Probably need to watch the show again to get a better read on them tbh but I would rather not. It will hurt my feelings again :( Baylan is like the mountain. He's calm, he's steady and the darkness erodes him slowly. He thinks he's successfully toeing the line with the dark side, but his faults are most evident in Shin's training. She is like a hurricane. The Force rips through her, chaotic and volatile and her control is iron yet brittle. She hasn't known inner peace a day in her life. She just taught herself restraint in the sense that she suppresses her power until she needs it to plow through her enemies. She will fall far more quickly than her master. Baylan's teachings follow the Jedi's to an extent but once the darkness is let in, those lessons become skewed and contradicted, and Shin is a mess because of it, only mirroring her master's control on the surface. Baylan isn't the worst teacher but he is not a good one. While Shin loves and trusts Baylan, she is getting tired and frustrated following his mysterious whispers of legends to an end he never explains clearly. And she is afraid.

ANYWAY, once Shin’s done sulking, one of these days her and Sabine are gonna have a genuine conversation or two and maybe agree to an actually friendly sparring match in which they agree to not just blindly pulverize each other. They take breaks and drink water and tend to their wounds like adults. And Sabine is like you know, we could just. Hang out. As wolves at least. It would suck sooo much less if you'd come play with me as a wolf xoxo. They slowly transition into a more definitive Truce.

Shin does start hanging out in the rec room as a wolf. Sabine still isn't volunteering info on the wolf magic but she does talk about what its like being wolfwalker in general. They tussel and chase each other around, often getting too rough but also loud enough that someone will come yell at them to stfu before they really hurt each other. It's much easier to take naps as wolves too after they've had a chance to burn some energy which makes the entire ship more peaceful.

However, you can't just be the first vessel in centuries to cross between galaxies and not have some kind of disaster right? Well it turns out the strange shapes out the viewport were not hallucinations. The Sion is essentially traveling through the cosmic deep ocean and there are bigger, older things than even the Purrgil out there. Nothing has an interest in attacking the Sion, but at some point something very large drifts close enough to jolt the Sion off course and shorts out the entire system. This ends up forcing them to drop out of hyperspace in the middle of absolute fucking nowhere.

It takes a few days to get the ship running again and recalculate the jump. And here's where Sabine gets to be a hero and earn some respect around here, bc most of their mechanics are droids which also shorted out and lost power. Seeing as they are at risk of losing life support, they let Sabine help with repairs and turns out she's one of the best mechanics on board, even considering the newer technology she doesn't have as much experience with. This also allows her to get more familar with the ship and find the best places to hide out when she eventually makes her escape, while simultaneously giving the crew more reason to let their guard down on her. Including Shin.

That first loss of power is the worst but there are several more blackouts along the way. Human Sabine and Shin are almost getting along now. They still don't like each other but they are hooking up (it does not fix them), and playing card games by flashlight and truth or dare. Maybe Shin even scrounges up some art supplies for Bean. Now she can pass the time hiding sharpie dicks all over the place. They are almost friends by the time there are three days left in the journey and Sabine is preparing to make her move.

Baylan was probably the one to initiate letting Sabine have her lightsaber to sparr occasionally. He wanted to test her metal as well. I think it would be interesting if they sparred a couple times. Baylan is much more chivalrous than Shin and also goes into teacher mode about sword fighting. Sabine isn't a novice anymore but he's still far more experienced. Shin is like no no no we are not adopting her Dad NO-

So anyway escape day comes, Sabine almost cronches Baylan to death, and Shin is beyond angry. Mostly at herself for letting her guard down enough to allow this to happen, she didn't really expect Sabine to not pull something like this in the end right? It's stupid to feel betrayed when it was so inevitable. She is still 100% gonna take it out on Sabine though, especially for almost killing her master.

Despite the escape attempt, Thrawn lets Sabine go as he does in the show, in the hope that she'll lead them to Ezra’s human body. He figures if anyone could find him, it would be a fellow wolfwalker who considers him dear enough to risk the fate of her entire galaxy. Everyone else is like you're just letting her go?? After all that??? And Thrawn's just like lol what did you expect from her? That's Sabine Wren. They probably do attempt to scan the ship for sabotage but it's so huge and her kyber bomb is so small and rudimentary that they don't find it.

At this point, Sabine is run utterly ragged. Bedraggled even. Having not slept in 2 days,(no room to wolf in the Sion's walls so she just had to stay awake 💀) suffered a heart attack at Baylan's hand, and got beat up by WolfShin again. She's visibly about to collapse and Thrawn's probably like 'do you...want to spend the night before you go? And a medic?' He knows he's most likely sending her to perish in the wilderness anyway, but was hoping to give her at least a chance at finding human Ezra for them. Sabine says hell no I'm getting out of here before you change your mind.

She rides until she actually does collapse, hides her body as best she can and continues as a wolf. She figures they let her go for a reason, and plans to run in erratic circles all night every night to hopefully throw them off, only later investigating any clues she finds as human for a few sporadic hours in the day. Thrawn does send Shin to track her at a distance. If she happens to find the trail of Wolf!Ezra first, kill her. This hunt through the wild will go on for several days at least, before there's any sign of Ezra.

[pansy-placebo]

This is your sign to get That Thing that you've thought would be useful for a long time, but didn't think you should get it for whatever reason. This is the sign to get that thing.

I bought a shower chair, a phone holder for the shower, and a powered scrubber. And my life is forever changed.

Context: I've been pretty open about how, for the past year or so, I've been increasingly struggling with bathing. I used to shower roughly every other day, and gradually that became about once a week, and then further, and then to the point where I genuinely don't know how often I've been bathing. It's just been deodorant and dry shampoo for a long, long time.

This is because I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS) and dissociative issues. Everything way is way more mentally and physically taxing with CFS, and the dissociation makes it doubly hard to focus. My phone would be blasting some video outside the shower to keep me present, but afterwards I'd still be exhausted for at least the rest of the day.

I got around the problem a little by taking "spit baths" or "bird baths", basically washing the important parts in the sink. Then I'd use deodorant for the rest (which, as long as I semi-regularly changed my clothes, went well /gen). I went a long time using primarily these methods, as it uses overall less energy than a full shower.

But smelling good and being basically hygienic ≠ feeling clean. I was getting the important parts, but I only ever feel clean when I've thoroughly showered.

So. After a great deal of consideration, I decided to get a shower chair and a water-resistant phone holder, and while I was on the webpage, I saw a neat powered body scrubber thingy I've always wanted, and ordered it in the spur of the moment. The phone holder arrived yesterday, the chair and scrubber today.

I've included some reference pictures for anyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about

And today, I finally took a shower with all the little things I've wanted. The phone holder and the shower chair and the electric scrubber thingy and. Holy shit. I feel better after this shower than any shower I've had in well over a year. Maybe even two years at this point.

It was a little awkward at first, I'm not used to sitting in the shower, but once I got used to everything it was an overall amazing experience.

I actually started laughing at some point, because all those things I've wanted, but for some reason had been afraid of getting, made it so much easier that it felt absurd and delightful and I enjoyed bathing for once!!

Once the shower was over, I grabbed the towel and sat on the shower chair to dry, something new for me. And, once I got out, I immediately got changed into fresh clothes instead of spending hours laying in bed recuperating.

I went and made myself dinner just now!!! Granted, it was just microwave baked beans, but I can never cook after bathing!!!

Anyway I'm sitting here drying and cozy in my usual Warm Things and feeling very, very happy about my purchases.

The moral of this story is that if you have the ability to get something that you suspect will make your life easier, get it.

It doesn't matter whether you're sick or not, it doesn't matter if you're diagnosed, it doesn't matter if you can technically get by without it. It doesn't matter if the thing is for "old people" and you're young, it doesn't matter if it's for disabled people and you're not sure if you "count" because you "only have" [the mental or physical issue that's affecting you].

Get the fucking thing. If it will make your life better, you should get it. It won't be a waste of money if it makes you less miserable, whatever it is.

Do not deny yourself the tools you need to live comfortably and happily.

You have my permission and my endorsement, if that means anything to you.

Xxx. Pansy

P.s. stay tuned because I'll be getting a powered wheelchair or scooter in the coming months. The moment I figure out how to do it, I will. I should have gotten one when I was first diagnosed but I didn't. I will not be repeating my past mistakes and denying myself the tools I need to live comfortably and happily.

[the-witchy-housewife]

｡+*✧ 5 Witchy Ways To Make Your Home More Magickal ✧*+｡

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Most practicing witches, whether just starting out or involved for decades, have carved out a sacred space for themselves. It is rare, however, that I see that same level of attention given to the rest of the home. In doing so, we risk the stagnation of energies in just about every other room of the house and miss out on this beautiful flow dancing about room to room. Today, I would like to share five simple ways to make your entire home a more magickal place to live in.

1. Regularly cleanse, bless, and ward.

It is so important – both for the success of workings and the overall energetic wellbeing of the household – to have a regular routine of cleansing the home, refilling it with positive energies, and charging the wards that surround it. This habit breaks up energetic stagnation, deters lingering negative energies, and promotes a sacred feeling of warmth that permeates throughout the entire home. In addition, I think you will find that this sort of energetic housekeeping will improve the results of any future magickal workings performed within it. Not to mention, making a habit out of any sort of magickal working – cleansings included – will naturally “exercise” and improve your own magickal abilities overall.

For those new to the ideas of cleansing, blessing, and warding, this is how I generally define it: To cleanse is to rid a person, place, or thing (in this case, the home) of stagnant, unwanted, draining, counterproductive, or otherwise negative energies. After a cleansing is performed, a blessing may follow. In my opinion, blessing a space with more productive energies serves two purposes: To set the tone for desired future outcomes and to further deter negative energies from re-entering the space. With that said, to bless – again, as I define it – is to invite in and refill the recently-cleansed person, place, or thing with fresh, positive, intentional energies. And finally, to ward is to create an energetic protective barrier around the person, place, or thing as a more passive and longer-lasting preventative measure. Some people may also refer to this as bubbling or shielding, though different people may have different definitions for each.

Now personally, there are different cleansing rituals I use for different circumstances, but my most often used rituals take place monthly or as-needed when energies get too muddied.

My Monthly Cleansing Ritual: I perform this ritual on the first of each month. Any cleansing tools to be charged on the altar should be set at least a day before performing the cleansing. The morning of, weather permitting, open windows and play uplifting music or cleansing affirmations, frequencies, or subliminals of choice. Take a cleansing shower. Clean the home as you normally would. When physical cleaning is complete, use a smoke or spray cleansing blend of choice, walking with intention from room-to-room. Pay special mind to corners and doorways. I like to use sound cleansing – bells, drums, or even snapping your fingers will do – in these spaces to really ensure the breaking up of any “stuck” energies. If you are someone who performs banishing rituals, you may choose to do so now. At this point, I also take a moment to cleanse myself, particularly as an empath. I then tend to my wards by first taking a blessed salt blend around the perimeter of the property, followed by sitting at the center of the property and funneling my own energy into the ward. If you would prefer to instead bless first and ward after, feel free to do so. It is your ritual, after all. Regardless of which order you perform the ritual in, the blessing process may be a deeply personal one, so this is a step I suggest thinking on a bit rather than following to the letter. In my ritual, I use a spray with positive energy-promoting herbs (as well as herbs that may promote the intention I wish to set for the month) and follow up with prayer to my deities. If you’re interested in a more in-depth look at my Monthly Cleansing Ritual, I do have detailed instructions available on my Monthly Blessings Patreon.

My As-Needed Cleansing Ritual: This is essentially a truncated version of my monthly ritual. If the energies are something I’ve tracked in or absorbed too much of, I will take a cleansing shower first. Following this, perform your usual smoke or spray cleansing, focusing especially on any room(s) that may be the most abundant in the energy that brought about this need for an emergency cleanse. You may also like to perform a shorter version of your regular blessing ritual. Unless the situation is really dire, I will generally stick to my spray in this case.

In regards to the physical cleaning portion of this, I do have to recommend Grove Collaborative for cultivating a more natural-based cleaning cabinet. In the future, I’ll be looking into more do-it-yourself methods for cleaning essentials, as is part of the focus of this blog, but in the meantime – and for anything that may be too tedious to make – I really do love Grove.

And one final thought on the cleansing process before we move on: If nothing else, it would at least be worth it to regularly cleanse yourself. I’m afraid your floors (and your home overall) will never be clean if you are consistently tracking in the (energetic) mud.

2. Arrange altars around the home.

To some, an altar may just be some simple magickal workspace, but I tend to view an altar as a sort of energetic nexus – a point of focus in (or out of) the home enchanted with a specific intention. Having a variety of these energetic points all across the home can promote different energies in different places and act as a sort of battery for the mood you wish to set in any room you wish to set it. Here are just a few ideas for altars around your home:

• The Shrine Altar: A space dressed with statuary, artwork, trinkets, and offerings honoring the deity or deities you are devoted to in your practice. This is your place of divine worship.

• The Working Altar: A space with all the tools and dressings to make magick happen. This, combined with a Shrine, is what most people traditionally think of when referring to an altar.

• The Divination Altar: A space with all the tools and dressings for divination, spirit communication, and other sorts of communion that take place beyond the veil. You may wish to set aside a space here for your spirit guides and teachers to provide their own guidance.

• The Ancestor Altar: A space for maintaining connection with your ancestors. When decorating and leaving offerings, keep in mind the things that your ancestors would enjoy.

• The Protection Altar: A space for gathering protective energies to keep yourself, your loved ones, and your home safe from harm. Think of it as a battery specifically for your wards.

• The Hearth Altar: A space for inviting warm, positive energies into the home and transmuting any negative energies that may enter. Even better if you can get your family involved.

• The Prosperity Altar: A space for inviting wealth, prosperity, and abundance into the home. Similarly to the Hearth Altar, It’s a good idea to have this altar face the front door to act as a “greeter” to these energies, and you may even choose to combine them.

• The Creativity Altar: A space for encouraging a steady flow of inspiration. This is ideal if you have any sort of creative pursuits and/or are subject to frequent creative blockages.

• The Study Altar: A space for encouraging focus and memory retention. Perfect for a library or an office where lots of learning takes place. Rosemary would be an excellent addition here.

• The Garden Altar: A space in your garden for promoting the growth of your plants and bonding with the fae and genius loci native to your area.

3. Celebrate with the changing seasons.

When I was younger, much of the year was quite boring to me, and I found myself always pining for Hallowthanksmas to roll back around before returning yet again to “business as usual” come January 1st. I think an unfortunate amount of people operate this way, as well. It was only when I started observing and appreciating the year in full that my life turned around in a big way, and I began to realize there is always something to look forward to.

Whether this means celebrating the sabbats, the seasonal shifts, or your own set of scattered observations – you can make holiday magick a year-round experience just by opening your eyes to Gaia’s natural cycles. In addition, I think you’ll find that matching the energetic ebb and flow of the Earth will serve to optimize your success with spellwork overall. Very simply:

During the spring… New beginnings are abundant. Appreciate the budding flowers, the baby animals, and the fresh spring air. Start new projects and/or take on new endeavors.

During the summer… Passions are at their highest. Host bonfires and barbecues and let yourself live life. Soak up the energy of the sun and transmute it into raw motivation.

During the autumn… Our efforts may be harvested. Bathe in gratitude for the abundance of this beautiful planet. Review and appreciate all that you have done for yourself.

During the winter… The world is at rest. The cold decelerates the very flow of time. Take a much-needed break, and plan to return or renew come the first signs of spring.

Consider also bringing the outdoors in – particularly during the colder months when it is too difficult to spend a significant amount of time outside. Foraging with the local flora in your area and using your findings for food, medicine, and decor is an excellent way to become familiar with the cycle of the seasons as it functions in your very own neighborhood.

4. Ritualize your everyday routines.

We often don’t realize just how many rituals we perform each and every day – repetitive, but necessary, processes that lull us into a meditative state. There is opportunity here. In our day-to-day life, there are so many little pockets within our routines to tuck intention and purpose into. And why shouldn’t we? Here are just a few suggestions for enchanting your daily routine:

In the Morning: Do affirmation work upon waking or in the mirror. Alternatively, listen to affirmations or subliminal audio on your ride to work or while getting ready in the morning. Incorporate color and shape magick into your wardrobe – including any accessories, makeup, or nail care that you may do.

Throughout the Day: Enhance your meals with carefully chosen herbs to improve wellbeing or attract specific energies. After workouts, take a moment to meditate on advancing muscular growth or expelling fat from troublesome areas. Use showers as mini cleansing rituals or put oils/herbs in a bath to attract energies.

During the Night: Do affirmation work just before falling asleep. Keep a small (non-fragile) stone under your pillow to regularly fill with energies of gratitude. Set an intention for your dreams. Keep a dream sachet under your pillow to help with achieving lucidity. Diffuse oil for a specific intention to set the tone for your dreams or even to set the tone for the next day.

However you spend your days, consider altering your home’s decor room-by-room to cultivate a specific tone and energy depending on the daily rituals you perform there.

5. Build a garden you can bond with.

One of the things I love most about being a witch is the awareness that magick really is all around us. In my opinion, cultivating a garden is the best way to go about experiencing this, and it offers so much versatility. On a very basic level, a garden offers a wide variety of personally-selected plants that can be used for cooking, medicine, magick, decor, aroma, and so much more. On a deeper level, a garden offers the space to get to know the spirits of these plants as they thrive and flourish prior to receiving their gifts – and this, in turn, will improve upon many of your more subtle spiritual abilities.

And for those of you who don’t have much of a yard to work with at this time, keep in mind that plants in any pot – that require any amount of sun and attention – are still living beings. Lavender, for example, is one commonly-used plant in the craft that can be grown indoors.

Pinterest, for the record, is a great place to collect gardening information tailored to your tastes (among other things like recipes and crafting tutorials). And for the more daring, you may choose to expand your horizons by looking into things like food forests or guerrilla gardening (bonus points if it yields something edible).

Regardless of what endeavors you decide to take on, darling, I wish you the best of luck in making your home, your community, and your life more magickal. Many blessings to you.

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

Memories

A short, sad bit of Birdrick. I actually wrote this a while back for the 'jealousy' prompt for Birdrick week before forgetting about it. 😅

Summary: While waiting at the Plimplom Tavern after turning himself in, Rick remembers a time from his and Birdperson's past. ~1k words

Warnings for masturbation, porn, and canon typical alcoholism. It's not smut, but it is explicit.

Rick blinks hazy, weary eyes, trying to straighten his vision. He manages, for the briefest of moments, to simplify it to double rather than quadruple before the images spill into each other again. The photo in his hand should be burnt into his parietal lobe with all the time he’s been staring at it, but although his eyes may be on the picture, his mind isn’t. His mind, just as it has been since that damned egg-vite arrived, is replaying old memories, dredging up feelings that have been stagnating for the better part of four decades. Plenty of it is well-trodden territory, thoughts that surface any time he lets his mind idle too long or allows his sobriety to outstay its welcome. Much of them can be dampened or even banished entirely with sufficiently high blood alcohol content. However, the more his mind strays from the beaten path, the more it digs up abandoned graves, ones that have long been overgrown, as well as those that are so new the earth is still fresh above.

The oldest memory he’s contending with is of a fling from back in the early days of the band, when most of their time had been spent getting high, partying, and having sex with strangers. Nothing out of the ordinary for a group of friends. All of them had brought hook-ups back to the glorified squat they called home every now and then, some more frequently than others. Rick remembers one night in particular where he’d decided - completely of his own accord and for no other reason - that he wasn’t going to bring anyone home that night. As he’d been leaving, he’d stumbled upon a couple who, judging by their position against the wall and the still burning cigarette discarded at their feet, had decided to cut out the middle man in their spit sharing. Normally, he wouldn’t have given them more than a passing glance, but one member of the couple had caught his eye. 

Birdperson.

It hadn’t been a surprise. After all, he’d been the one most desperate to get out that particular night. 

For a few weeks prior, all Rick had noticed was that he’d been slightly more energetic than usual and that he’d been spending a lot of time in the shower, despite the fact that the water had failed to be so much as lukewarm for even a single day since they’d moved in. When Squanchy brought the subject up at breakfast one day, Birdperson had explained his species’ reproductive cycle in very matter-of-fact terms, and Rick hadn’t thought about it too much more after that. 

At least, not until he’d been lying awake that night, unable to sleep, and had wandered into the living room to find Birdperson sitting alert on the couch, intently watching porn. Birdperson’s gaze had flickered to him and Rick had taken several seconds to choke out an answer to the unspoken question.

“C-couldn’t sleep.”

He’d joined Birdperson on the couch and they’d watched together, just like the three of them frequently did. Only this time, it wasn’t the three of them. Rick hadn’t thought that would make a difference, but it had. If he didn’t pay attention to the video, the atmosphere was chokingly thick and he felt acutely aware of every miniscule movement and positioning of his body. He could almost feel the gravity between him and Birdperson, and he struggled desperately against its effects while also trying not to make it obvious what he was doing. He tried to focus on the porn instead, but the images of naked birdpeople, horny and begging for release, did nothing to ease the tension. When Squanchy was there, they were just some guys watching porn, occasionally making a smartass comment or giving an appreciative cheer. Without him, the activity felt silent and intimate.

Eventually, the video had ended and Rick had retreated back to his room while Birdperson headed to the bathroom for, presumably, yet another cold shower. Rick felt further from sleep than ever, his body jittery and wired and horny. He reached a hand down to take care of business, his thoughts full of mating season and the desperate, innate need he’d seen onscreen. Somewhere at the back of his mind - although not far back enough for Rick’s tastes - he thought about the moment he’d shared with Birdperson, about the fact that they were both undoubtedly filling the same need right now, the other man naked and slippery in the shower, thrusting into his own hand in a way that would never be enough to satisfy the burning need he felt.

He’d spent the next hour trying to convince himself that the powerful, intense orgasm that had rocked his body had nothing to do with the subject of his thoughts.

As time had progressed, Birdperson’s instincts had only grown stronger, and he’d often disturb them at odd hours with heavy footsteps and strange, almost songlike noises. He would grow increasingly frenetic if he stayed inside or went without flying for too long. He seemed to live almost exclusively for the opportunity to hook up, and no amount of sex seemed to quell his insatiable thirst.

However, something about seeing Birdperson had still caught him off guard.

Finally, he realised it wasn’t so much that Birdperson was hooking up, it was who he was hooking up with. 

Another birdperson.

It was relatively rare for them to come across another member of Birdperson’s species, but that wasn’t what the source of the surprise was either.

Then it clicked.

It was the way they fit each other perfectly, the way the other birdperson’s hands ran over Birdperson’s skin and feathers with an intuitive knowledge of how to please him. The sort of satisfaction he could only get from a member of his own species. Something Rick could never hope to achieve.

The thought jolted Rick out of his spiral and he became aware of a hot, spiky feeling rising between his stomach and his heart. He’d never been particularly good at identifying his own emotions, but he knew that this was one he was too sober for right now. He turned and strode back into the club.

When he left for the second time, half an hour and several double vodkas later, the couple was gone.

[pastryiee]

everything shower !

Hi! My name is Kia.. and here’s how to take a proper everything shower, obviously you don’t have to take everything showers to be clean or anything, I personally just like to do them to feel fresh and like a new person!

Now lets begin! An everything shower starts outside the shower, so apply some hair oil, any that you like! For low porosity hair I suggest argon oil or rosemary oil! Now for high porosity hair I suggest coconut oil and castor oil! Make sure to apply it evenly and only to your ends, you can even do a scalp treatment! Personally I like to use glycolic acid on my scalp for build up once a week! Now while that sits for an hour I like to throw my sheets into the washer and clean my room up a bit, or you can workout, or do your homework! ofc you don’t have to do that if you don’t wanna!! Now I’m gonna type out the actual steps to an everything shower!

Step 1: getting into the shower, make sure your water is currently lukewarm, now you're gonna turn off the hot water and quickly turn around and wet your hair, make sure your entire scalp is throughly wet as well as your ends. Now you can turn the water off (we're doing this to save money cuz this routine is over an hour long yay!! lol!) now apply a good size amount of shampoo to your palm, and mix for at least 15 seconds. Now apply it to your scalp, this is our first shampoo out of three, you should massage it in for at least one short song, then turn the water back on and rinse, now you're gonna add a little more shampoo. Rub it into your hands for 15 seconds and evenly apply to your scalp. This time you're gonna shampoo for two songs of your choice. Now repeat that shampoo more time after rinsing. Your scalp should have a squeaky sound after you're done throughly rinsing it out!

Step 2: slightly dry your hair with a towel and apply your hair mask, evenly then detangle!! Now clip your hair up.. and then get your loofah wet it, and apply soap of your choice! Unscented soap btw! And scrub adub everywhere, including.. behind your ears, belly button, FEET!!!! Armpits, your back, privates, legs, arms. Torso, behind your neck, everywhere. Then rinse, now get an exfoliating cloth and a soap for bumpy skin(if you have bumpy skin) and scrub in the same places as the loofah! The exfoliating cloth is optional!!

Step 3: rinse out your hairmask with cold water, then after this slightly dry your hair and apply your conditioner to your ends and clip. Now get an exfoliating scrub and apply it all over except your privates. And when I say all over.. I mean all over. Your back, legs, Arms, armpits, torso, Feet, lower back and hands! Rub it into your skin in a circular motion, Now here’s a pro tip from me! Let your body scrub melt a little on your body and apply shaving cream.. youre basically getting a shaving oil from the melted scrub! Gives the smoothest nicest shave ever! Now to shave be really gentle and careful, glide your razor over your legs/arms not applying a lot of pressure to prevent nicks and razor burn, go over the same spot twice, and go against the growth of hair! And continue that shaving routine wherever you need it! Now that you’re done shaving rinse out your conditioner with cold water and wash your body with a bodywash of your choice! And now.. turn off the water and you’re done with the shower part!

Step 4: clip your hair up after squeezing out excess water,now apply body oil before your skin drys! After that apply your favorite body lotion, and now some perfume and body mist on these key points; Behind your neck, your wrists, neck, behind your ankles and knees. And now get changed! After this do your regular haircare and skincare routine! Andddd.. that’s all!!<33

[obxone]

Assumptions (Part 7)

Rewritten/Edited. ~2.23k words

Warning: post smut descriptions

Master Page

Rafe's mouth ghosts across your shoulder, his fingertips digging into the soft underside of your thigh as he finishes buried inside of you. You whimper, eyes squeezing shut as another orgasm washes over you. 

"Rafe!" You whine, nails dragging over the width of his shoulders. "No more, please."

He shushes you before kissing you, letting your walls squeeze him until he is sure every last drop is inside of you. "You did so well, Baby."

“We are ruining the sheets.” You whisper after he withdraws to leave you naked and exposed on his bed. The feeling of your mixed orgasms dampening the sheet under you makes you blush. “I should shower and head home.”

"Home?"

"Yes, I need to go home." You respond before watching as he disappears into his closet before coming back out wearing a pair of gray sweats with a t-shirt and boxer briefs in hand. 

"You are not going home," he says, tossing the clothing at you. "You are staying here tonight. But you can shower."

"Rafe!"

He shrugs. "My girlfriend is staying the night."

You huff before slipping from his bed. "At least change the bedding."

He smirks, watching you disappear into his bathroom without much of an argument.

 You turn the shower on and wait for it to steam up as you browse his product selection. For a man, he seemed to require a number of items, but is also wealthy and could afford anything he wanted. 

You huff, setting his mouthwash down and glancing in the mirror. Your hair is mussed, and your skin is pinkish from your time in the sun. But your face is flushed for other reasons, reasons that involve the man on the other side of the door, your boyfriend. Your first boyfriend in almost a year, and he has weaseled himself into the role. Your fingertips trail over the blooming love bites littering your neck, and shoulders. He could be a condescending bastard, but he knew what he was doing In bed. 

Your body tingles with the aftershocks still rolling through you as the room begins to steam up around you. 

After a shower and taking a moment to shut yourself off to him for the night, you emerge from the bathroom to see him sitting on the bed. Fresh sheets now replace the ones you had mussed not thirty minutes before. 

“I’m going to have to tell the Pogues, aren’t I?” You ask. 

"Yes."

You close your eyes for a moment before breathing out a harsh exhale. “Fuck.”

After you toss the towel into the hamper you cross the room to him. 

"They are going to hate me," you mutter, staring at him. "I hope it makes you happy."

"Not happy about them hating you," he says, reaching for you to pull you down onto his lap. His hands travel over your thighs to your hips as he leans in. His lips are a bruising mess against yours. Your hands press to his chest, easing him back. He watches you, his hand moving to your face. "You don't need the pogues if they decide to hate you for dating me."

"Can you blame them?" You question. Your hands tremble as you drag them down his abdomen. "The pogues think the worst of you Rafe, because of how you treat us."

He shakes his head. "I don't care what they think."

You sigh, dropping your head to his shoulder. His hands slip under the t-shirt to touch your back. 

"If they are your friends, they'll understand."

Your laughter drips with sarcasm before you withdraw and fall into the space beside him. "You really are out of your mind if you think that is going to play out with some kind of happy ending."

He rolls his eyes before turning off the bedside lamp. "I got what I wanted. I got the girl."

You are silent as you lay next to him in the darkness as you realize he did. He played you and got what he wanted at the end of the day. As you fall asleep, you think about how you are going to break the news to your friends and how to navigate their reactions. You close your eyes, worry spreading through you.

----

“You what?!” Kie stares at you with wide eyes. 

“No fucking way,” JJ shakes his head, outrage masking his face. He storms out of the Chateau without looking at you. You sigh, head hanging. You know this is hard, but if they could understand what you did to save JJ from being arrested, it would help. 

“It’s temporary,” you whisper, fingers tangling together before you look up again. “Rafe is not going to leave me alone until he gets what he wants. And he's using yesterday's fight as leverage. He gets me, and JJ stays out of jail."

"Fuck!" John B groans, dragging his hand over his face, and Sarah shakes her head, not surprised in the least by what her brother is doing. 

"Rafe will get bored like he always does, and I will have $5k for college saved up.”

“Smart,” Pope shrugs, agreeing. 

Sarah looks at him with a confused expression before turning back to you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you respond, glancing at Sarah before exhaling. “I got the $5k this morning.”

She closes her eyes temporarily before agreeing with you. Pope shrugs, telling you he trusts your judgment call. Kiara and JJ are the only ones left. Kiara and JJ would probably never agree, and you know that, so you decide to let it go.

“He’s not coming around here, is he?” Kiara asks, looking at you with her hands gripping the counter's edge. "I can't pretend to like him."

“Definitely not,” you say quickly. “That is part of the plan. Limited access.”

“But he still has access,” JJ states from the doorway. His worried ocean-colored eyes are on you. He shakes his head with his lips pulled into a line. “I trust you. I don’t trust him.”

“I’ll be okay,” you whisper and cross the room to wrap your arms around his waist. He hugs your back, his face pressing into your shoulder. “If not, you will be my first call.”

“Promise?”

“Promise."

"I could have fake-dated you, you know." He mumbles.

"Not with the rules," you reply. "P4L comes first.”

He frowns before tipping his head back to look at you. “Be careful. Please.”

“Always. Limited access starts now.”

And you do manage it for four days. You continue your normal routine with a few extra shifts mixed in. Mike understood when you requested extra shifts to cover the repair costs, but it is nearly running you ragged. 

As you exit with a tired 'see you tomorrow' you find him leaning back against a truck in the parking lot. His hat is on backward as he waits for you with those toned, tanned arms across his chest. 

“You know,” he says as he stands and moves to you. His hand reaches out to take your bag, and you let him. “I thought having a girlfriend meant I got to see her.”

“It’s only been four days.”

He smirks. “So you do know how too long it has been.”

“Don’t be an asshole,” you say to him as he opens the door for you. "How did you know I was working and when I got off?"

He smirks. "I have my ways."

"Did you bribe someone?"

"Yes, but you left me no choice." His hand is on your hip as he helps you in before you meet his gaze again. He frowns, seeing how tired you are. "You look exhausted."

“I had work. I told you I’m not the kind of girlfriend you want. You are proving me right, you know that right?”

He huffs, lips pulling down in a disappointed frown before he closes the door and goes to get in on his side.

“I want to see you every day,” he explains, leaving The Wreck’s parking lot and heading into Figure 8. "If I can't, then every other day. Four days is too long for me to not see you."

"Okay," you whisper, fingers knotting together in your lap. "So what now?"

"I'm taking you on a date tonight."

“I want to shower and nap first,” you say, looking out the window at the upscale properties. “And then you can do whatever you want with me.”

He is silent before he reaches over, turning your face to his once he parks outside Tanneyhill. “Shower, and then we will go to dinner. You are sleeping here tonight, just sleep. I don’t want only sex from you, you know that, right?”

You study him before closing your eyes briefly. You worry if you keep them closed too long, they will not open again until you have had some rest. “Then what do you want?”

“You.” He unbuckles and gets out before coming to help you, and you take his hand, letting him lead you into the mansion and to his bedroom. “Go shower. I bought a dress for you, it is in my closet when you are ready. I have some work to do for my dad before we go.”

After you shower and get changed into the dress, you lay on his bed, watching him focus on the papers in front of him. His desk is littered with college textbooks, which he is no longer using, and folders with stacks of papers. Likely all related to Cameron Development projects since that is his legacy. Your eyes grow droopy, and you shift, groaning as you roll on your back. 

“Rafe?” You question. He turns from working at the desk to be looking at you. A small smile on his face, and you know it is because you are exactly where he wants you. You are wearing a dress that he has bought for you, and in his bed, waiting to go on a date night with him. At least he is content. "How much longer?"

He drops the pen onto the desk before standing and moving towards you. That charming smile he had probably mastered at a young age takes over his lips. He leans over you. His hands are against the mattress on either side of your waist. 

“Not much longer. You can take a nap if you want. But you are still sleeping here tonight."

You close your eyes briefly, and he takes the opportunity to brush his lips over your forehead. 

“I want to enjoy you tonight in public. I want everyone to see the beautiful girl that is all mine.”

You inhale sharply at his words. It scares you, but also sends a thrill through you. This Rafe is different from all the sides of him you have seen so far. You disliked most of the other sides of Rafe, hating how he tried to break down those that got in his way, and how much he disregarded everyone else’s feelings or needs for his benefit. 

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, his touch warm and firm against your skin. You inhale shakily at his declaration and the dread that fills you at the look in his eyes.

“I’m obsessed with you.” And then he kisses you. His tongue tasted your mouth in a dominating and needy way until you are moaning into him. He ends the kiss before searching your face. “What do you want?”

You pause at his question, surprised that he would ask that, and he chuckles. 

“You do not even know, do you?” He murmurs before he kisses your forehead. "You can have anything you want now, Baby."

“Would you actually give me what I want?”

“Yes,” he says with a small smile. “I would not have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

“Be honest with me, that is what I want,” you say, your gaze glued to his. “Honesty above all else.”

“I’ll always be honest with you.”

You stare at him, your lips parting for a second before closing again. You look away, heat flaring through you at the thought of how much this all seemed to mean to him. “Promise?”

“Yes.”

“Anything I ask?”

He nods, his frosty blue eyes searching yours before he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead. “Yes, but there are also some things you won’t need to know.”

The realization sets in that yet another side of Rafe does exist beyond what you know. He watches you but does not move back to give you space.

You look at him, searching his face as you try to ignore the feeling of him getting closer and closer to who you are as a person. You want to have this conversation with him, but you worry it will only give him more power over you. “I don’t need to know things?”

He clues in. “That is what you are worried about?”

“Yeah, whatever that is.”

He clears his throat, dropping his head to yours. “It is nothing important. Nothing that could hurt you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” His lips find yours again before he straightens and returns to his desk. “One more hour of work, and then we can go. Take a nap, Baby.”

“Okay,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering shut and sleep pulling into her dark depths as you try to worry about what that thing is.

Part VIII