#can you tell which ones are lazy/have a lot of mistakes

[deadpuppetboi]

Sister Location Doodles I made for fun

[dailymanners]

Most people who don't live under a rock can tell you that customer/employee relations have gotten more strained over the past four years.

I worked food service and retail pre-covid, so I know as well as anyone that there have always been difficult customers. But as per my pinned post a lot of evidence suggests there has been increased hostility, especially towards customer service workers, but if you work in a public facing customer service job you probably don't need any studies to tell you that, but having the evidence backed up by studies does help.

There's been some discussion on the why, with anything from "people lost their socialization and ability to behave themselves in public" to "covid affected people's brains and made them more aggressive" to "people were threatened by having rules enforced against them by people they felt should be below them, aka food service and retail workers" and it's likely some combination of the above.

But one thing I think is severely underdiscussed is that, at least in the Western countries I've lived in and/or have friends/family/loved ones living in, is it just me or have companies gotten lazy about giving their employees proper training??

I mean, years back, way before covid, even for minimum wage food service job, I'd get some sort of orientation and proper introduction and training to really make me feel prepared to answer customer's questions about the food and the company. There were people actually designated to train the newbies and answer their questions. So obviously I felt more competent and ready, and obviously I was better able to help the customers and do my job properly.

Now, "after" covid (which I know is still ongoing so for all intents and purposes let's define after covid as just meaning after the start of the pandemic and the shifts to society it's been causing) when I start a new job, whether it's retail or even an office job? I'm just thrown to the wolves. No proper orientation or training, nobody specifically designated to train me, just "yeah, you'll figure it out as you go, you can ask your co-workers if you have questions (ahaha but none of them are specifically designated to or being paid extra to train you so they'll get annoyed and snippy when you need help from them) good luck!"

And I ask around and a lot of people who have started new jobs after the start of the pandemic feel the same way. No proper training or guidance. Just lots and lots of mistakes resulting in lots and lots of pissed off customers.

I don't think this is a stretch to say this has contributed to worse relations overall between customers and employees. Customers are fed up that everywhere they go none of the staff know how to do their job (not saying this justifies being a jerk to customer service workers, ofc it doesn't!) and this results in employees everywhere being tense, stressed, and on edge. They don't know what they're doing, they can't get the proper help or guidance they need, and they're tired of being constantly snapped at by customers when they make a mistake and don't know what to do.

Nobody's happy. Something about the pandemic made companies more lazy about actually properly training their employees, and now everybody is stressed and unhappy about it, but the companies continue to get away with it.

[bl00d1nk]

ꜱʟᴀꜱʜᴇʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ; ᵈᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

​🇨​​🇭​​🇦​​🇷​​🇦​​🇨​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​: brahms heelshire, patrick bateman, herbert west

​🇼​​🇦​​🇷​​🇳​​🇮​​🇳​​🇬​​🇸​: slashers ofc, brahms lack of hygiene, brahms being possesive, brahms stalking you basically,patrick being a dick, vauge nsfw in patricks, dead people obvi, body snatching, also not read over so if theres any mistakes whoopsies

​🇦​​🇺​​🇹​​🇭​​🇴​​🇷​​🇸​ ​🇳​​🇴​​🇹​​🇪​: first time writing for slashers omds + writing for the first time properly in like a year so teehee also lemme know if you want this for other slashers :PPP also i tried to write this v gn but idk if i acc did so pls gimme suggestions on how to keep everything in my writing inclusive plsss!!! also if ur wondering what "w/" means it just means with im just too lazy to write with teehee

¬𝙱𝚁𝙰𝙷𝙼𝚂 𝙷𝙴𝙴𝙻𝚂𝙷𝙸𝚁𝙴¬

𖦹 stinky

𖦹 i dont mean that in a funny way like this man fucking REEKS

𖦹 this means you will have to get him to wash himself

𖦹 only perk of that is showering n bathing w/ him, its a real big part of your relationship

𖦹 he likes it because hes close to you and it gives him a lot of comfort and feels really cared for if you wash his hair for him + likes the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp

𖦹 he likes leaving things he thinks you'll like all around the house

𖦹 he found a crusty ass ring he'll think you'll like?KABOOSH!!!!! its on the bathroom counter

𖦹 he also doesn't take too kindly to anyone you talk to that isn't him, he gets really jealous n upset over that

𖦹 this makes him extremly bratty unfortunately

𖦹 prepare for him being in the walls and banging on them for hours on end to piss you off and placing that stupid doll everywhere just to get a scare out of you

𖦹 will literally refuse to do anything for you

𖦹 buttt you can make it up to him by telling him theres nothing to worry about n making him a wee sandwich + giving him kisses, easy peasy squeeze the lemon (im really hoping some of yous got that reference)

𖦹 brahms also likes cuddling

𖦹 a lot

𖦹 you're sitting down reading or on your phone? not without him on your lap nuzzing into your neck having a wee nap

𖦹 you might end up with dead legs by the end of it but hey! it was worth it

𖦹 probably......

𖦹 he just stares at you a lot but dw! not in a creepy way (from his perspective at least), he's just admiring your beauty

𖦹 really likes it when you read to him + it puts him to sleep

𖦹 also loves it when you brush his hair, surprise surprise it also puts him to sleep

𖦹 CLINGY!!!!!!!!! so very very very very CLINGY

𖦹 if you leave the room for a second he will follow doesnt matter if he knows where you're going he will follow

𖦹 gets so upset if you leave during cuddling even if its to pee

𖦹 he will whine n grasp n tug at what you're wearing in an attempt to get you to stay w/ him

𖦹 the time he spends following n watching you could be stalking atp

𖦹 seperation anxiety? he knows her, very well

𖦹 will cry if you leave the house until you come back, n the moment you do he practically jumps you, crying and wailing into your shoulder begging you not to leave him ever again

𖦹 will have no intentions of letting go of you for the rest of the day

𖦹 he also really like sleeping in the same bed w/ you

𖦹 he likes that he knows you're there, you can tuck him in, read to him, cuddle him, give him forehead kisses n comfort him in case he has a nightmare or vice versca

𖦹 n e ways 8.5/10 -1 for stinkyness, -0.5 for well him being him ig

¬𝙿𝙰𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝙰𝚃𝙴𝙼𝙰𝙽¬

𖦹 before i get into this one i actually hate patrick bateman w/ a burning passion for very obvious reasons so i struggled HARD w/ this

𖦹 alr so we all saw that les mis poster in the opening scene so he deffo would bring you along to watch any high end musicals w/ him

𖦹 SKINCARE!!!!!!!!! he has a whole ass ROUTINE which he will explain to you in great detail and explain why the water has to be a certain temp n why this needs to be put on this way n that needs to be put on that way

𖦹 would let you do skincare on him but beware that he will check the entire ingredients list before you put it on his face

𖦹 its rather boring to listen to but he looks so proud of himself while explaining it, how could you not listen?????

𖦹 he spoils you rotten like its acc so bad

𖦹 you wanted those fancy ass pairs of shoes? they're already in your hands

𖦹 you want a reservation at dorsia? you've got one

𖦹 you literally want anything in the world? you'll have it before you even know you want it

𖦹 he obviously doesn't like people apart from himself so when he found the slightest bit of attraction to you he immediatley became infatuated with you and your life

𖦹 why were you making him feel this way? how were you making him feel this way? was it sorcery? was he going insane? yeah

𖦹 suprise suprise this did lead him to asking you out which led you up to here getting whatever you want

𖦹 hes a jealous fucker i can tell you that

𖦹 especially when he sees you within a 6ft distance of paul allen

𖦹 he storms over and makes some passive aggresive comment toward the two of you and then tries to keep himself cool w/ some swanky inner monologue and eventually drags you away because he "needed to talk to you"

𖦹 spoiler alert, he didn't

𖦹 all this leads to is some rather lewd acts back at his apartment as he tries to reassure himself that he's much better than paul allen and taunts you asking if you think paul allen could make you feel this way

𖦹 rants on to you about his music collection and explains how he thinks this song led them to stardom and someone was an idiot for not releasing this and that as a single and not putting these songs in this album and yadayadaya

𖦹 great if you actually are bothered to listen to him rant on for ages horrific if you aren't, gets quite offended if you don't show much interest in his music

𖦹 i get if if you don't tho, its really something...

𖦹 we all know this man is a complete germaphobe so be absolutley horrifically aware of that unless you fancy getting yelled at

𖦹 he love love LOVESS watching texas chainsaw massacare with you, he loves it when you twos just sit there in silence and cuddle while watching people get brutally attacked n chased, how romantic!

𖦹 finds it funny when you grimace or go 'oh my god' at any brutal scene in it

𖦹 touchy

𖦹 v e r y t o u c h y

𖦹 at any public event he always has a hand snaked around your waist or has his arm linked in yours

𖦹 even in is apartment he still has that hand snaked aorund your waist

𖦹 not a fan of kissing bc he's a germaphobe but because he knows were you've been most of the time he dislikes it a little less

𖦹 prefers giving forehead kisses tho as its quick and much more hygenic than lips

𖦹 god that was tough to write but overall, 7.5/10, -2.5 for being himself. i hate him too much to give him a better rating so ja

¬𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙱𝙴𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝙴𝚂𝚃¬

𖦹 i am so horrendously excited to write this because for the last like 4 days i have not stopped thinking about reanimator, i eat sleep breath the franchise, and herbert west is such a giggle so teehee

𖦹 alright if you're not in the science field or have any connection to dan hes probably not going to take an interest in you as you're not one of his areas of interest

𖦹 if you are in the category of herbert wests interests well done! he tolerates you

𖦹 like patrick would notice how weird he felt around you and would probably blame it on 'primal urges' ew

𖦹 he would most likely ignore them until he can't, and it eventually all bubbles over and he just can't resist inviting you to his basement of wonders

𖦹 he just watches you intently the entire time your there much like brahms does, also not in a creepy way (in his eyes) just admiring you

𖦹 he probably goes on a rather detailed explanation of his work and what he did to get here

𖦹 if you ever feel a lil faint abt all that stuff he just puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder cuz hes a lil awkward

𖦹 lowkey enlists you alongside dan to go steal bodies and experiment on them

𖦹 if you ever get attacked by one of the re-animated he literally doesn't leave your side, mainly to see the severity of your injuries to examine the strength of the reanimated and the other tiny bit because he cares for you

𖦹 has shit talking sessions about dr hill w/ you, it mainly consists of him getting rather heated over the fact he plagiarizes his work and ya know the whole 6-12 mins thing

𖦹 is very clingy with you when dr hill is around as he doesn't want him to make any creepy ass remarks about you so he sticks to your side like he sticks to his research

𖦹 really appreciates is when you cook for him as he's a total basement dweller and doesn't leave it for food

𖦹 so lets say you actually did make something for him he would be really surprised and would be rather amused that you care enough to make him something and he'll gladly eat it

𖦹 also doesn't sleep a lot, so if and when he comes up from the basement he will be taking a nap on you

𖦹 speaking of him taking naps, he'll just plonk on top of you when he wants to take a nap so

𖦹 yay!!!

𖦹 like patrick with music herbert will rant on about science to you

𖦹 at any time, like you could be in bed ready to finally sleep and then he starts rambling about the R.E.M cycle and how benificial sleep is for the body yet he gets absolutley NONE

𖦹 isn't very good at expressing affection for you bc he's herbert so those naps and his rants are actually his way of showing he rlly likes you

𖦹 kissing isn't his favourite thing in the world bc of germs and stuff, so he presses quick kisses to your forehead, nose and cheek such a gentleman

𖦹 but, when herberts all whiny and annoyed at life he will be down for a cheeky make out sesh

𖦹 he gets very flustered after it which is pretty funny to watch so he usually distracts himself with science

𖦹 i genuinely couldn't tell you if he would use petnames or not

𖦹 will use your name 99.9999999999% of the time, just maybe will call you darling

𖦹 just maybe.....

𖦹 n e ways dunno what else to write so 8.9/10, -1.1 for being a body snatcher ig

omds that was so hard and I was gonna add more characters but i kinda got lazy but PLEEEAAAASSEEEE lemme know what you guys thought ty :3

[seeingivy]

love of my life

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friends (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

CONTENT WARNING: mentions of suicidal thoughts, parental abuse, please read at your own discretion. protect your peace!!!

sukuna realizes, only in the exact moment that your arms wrap around his waist and he feels you bury your cheek against the bare skin of his back, that he should have known you would have woken up if he left you in bed alone. 

it’s a quiet panic first – to wipe the wetness away from his cheek, to swallow hard enough to make sure that his voice doesn’t waver when he speaks – to make sure that you don’t clock the fact that he was crying. 

“i get why you complain all the time now, ryomen.” you murmur. 

it’s enough to make his heart skip a beat – the soft muffled tone and the sleep still heavy in your voice – as he tries to muster a normal response. 

“and why’s that, princess?” 

“bed is cold without you. i can barely sleep.” 

sukuna turns around, watching as you lazily hook your arms around his torso and lean your head against his shoulder, your eyes still pinched shut from the brightness of the light. he takes the quiet second to observe the bruise by your eye, swollen to its peak, and it nearly makes him cringe. 

he knew all too well that it would puff up for all of today, that there would be a lingering headache for two days, before it started to fade to green and yellow before disappearing at the end of the week. 

“should ice this, doll. does it hurt?” he whispers. 

“it’s okay. lights are kind of bright, but –” 

“take an advil. i’ll get you one.” 

he quickly steadies you out of his embrace, before darting away to the cabinets, rummaging through as he produces a glass of water for you. and you lean against the counter, making the mistake of trying to rub your eyes, forgetting the sensitive spot on the left. 

you hiss at the sensation, which has him turning around with wide eyes. 

“sorry. i rubbed my eyes and i forgot.” 

it’s a quiet laugh that comes out of sukuna, before he walks up to your side, placing the pill in the palm of your hand and the glass in the other. you shoot him a grateful smile – which is when you’re able to clock the rimmed pink around his eyes and the tear streaks on his face. 

you immediately set the glass down, reaching forward and rubbing the side of his cheek, only to have it confirm your suspicions when the wetness transfers to your fingers. 

“hey. what’s wrong?” you whisper. 

he shakes his head as he lifts your left hand closer, insisting that you take the advil. you oblige, quickly swallowing it down with the water, before you hook your hands around his neck. you stand on the tips of your toes, trying to level yourself with his eyes, and insist for the answer again. 

“allergies,” he responds. 

you frown.

“sukuna.” you whine. 

you lean forward, closing the distance between you, as you sag your weight onto his shoulder. you’re not sure what it does for him – rubbing circles into his back, pressing lazy kisses to his shoulder – but it only makes him pull you closer, almost suffocating the air out of you when he squeezes harder. 

“you don’t have to tell me. i just want to know you can if you want to, because i’m ready to listen.” 

“yesterday was a lot for you. we can talk about –” he starts. 

“yesterday was more for you than it was for me. yuuji and i already have plans to go to coffee that he made last night, i have a feeling it’ll go well, and…my eye will heal. sammy and i kind of debriefed everything after on text and her rage weirdly made me feel better. but i know that was a lot for you and that you don’t have a sammy that fixed things for you or yuuji trying to resolve it with you. so i’m fine, i’m just worried about you.” 

sukuna leans back, placing his hands around your waist before he lifts you onto the counter. 

“did you want hot chocolate? i made some.” 

you cringe at the deflection, but turn to the left to find the little saucepan boiling on the stove. 

“just share with me.” 

“okay baby, you say that but then you drink the entire thing.” sukuna deadpans. 

“i won’t. it’s the middle of the night and i know i won’t sleep if i do.” you respond. 

sukuna shrugs, as he tilts the saucepan to the left, and pours it into the mug. he slides it over to you, letting you take the first sip, before you hand it back to him and let him take the next. 

you can’t help but stare at the tear marks. 

it was a rare occasion to see sukuna cry, but not unheard of. it was only when things felt really hopeless in your opinion, that he’d let himself get far enough to cry. or really, when it only felt appropriate or safe for him too. 

you remember in passing that yuuji used to think that sukuna was heartless, because he had never seen him cry before. and now that you think about it, it makes you think about sammy – about how you can’t really recall if she ever cried when you were younger. 

it makes you feel guilty – that she never felt safe enough to. that maybe she felt the need to front like sukuna did for yuuji, that he was so responsible for him that he couldn't show that he was struggling either and maybe she felt that way too. 

“i want to tell you…it’s just that…” 

he pauses. 

“i don’t want you to take it the wrong way. i’m really upset this happened to you, this…this makes me more furious and frustrated than you understand and i…” 

you snort. 

“i have an idea. we were barely two weeks into dating and you punched your boss for me, so..” 

sukuna smiles, before pausing. 

“do you want me to be mad? about yesterday?” he asks. 

you pause. 

“what?” 

“like. like would it upset you if that wasn’t the main thing i was thinking about? like later, if we fought or something, you’d be like…oh i got punched in the face and he wasn’t mad enough about that because he was thinking about his own things? because…” 

“no.” 

sukuna raises his eyebrows, almost like he doesn’t believe you. 

“no.” you confirm. 

you reach for his hands, locking your fingers in with his free one. 

“i know that this is all complicated. that this might bring up bad memories for you.” you whisper. 

you can see the recognition clock on his face, that you know exactly what he’s talking about because you remember, as he gives you a mere nod. sukuna feels like you might know how to read his mind. or that he’s just given so much of himself to you at this point that it’s impossible for you not to. 

“i don’t want you to be mad. i don’t need you to defend me or protect me. i want you to be whatever it is you’re feeling, i want you to talk to someone about this if you never have, and to know that i love you even though –” 

he holds his hand up, pinching his eyes shut, as he starts to shake his head. you stop, leaving the silence hanging between the two of you before he talks again. 

“i’m sorry. i love you but it’s…it’s…” 

his voice starts to shake and the tears rise again in his eyes. and you can tell that he’s trying to swallow it down as hard as he can, trying to push it down, and it makes your chest twist in an unpleasant way. 

“it’s too much to hear, right now. i’m thinking a lot of things and it’s just hard to…” 

“okay. i’m sorry.” 

he winces. 

“fuck. please don’t think i’m turning down your affection or that i’m mad at you. i love you. i love all the sweet things you say to me. i’m just not used to this especially when i feel like this and i –” 

you offer him a smile. 

“i know.” you whisper. 

sukuna pauses before his eyes soften. it’s the same lovesick look in his eyes that he gives you – the almost tangible sign to you that he loves you, in earnest. 

“you know?” he asks, voice cracking. 

you can’t help but frown as you reach forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“i know it can be a lot when you aren’t used to it. i know it’s not personal. i just hope you know that i will eventually make you reach a point where you…you can accept that from me. i’ll keep trying till i die if i have to.” you state. 

sukuna smiles, before closing the space between the two of you, and placing a lingering kiss on your lips. 

“i cut you off. you were saying something.” you state. 

“yeah. yeah…i was just…” 

sukuna pauses, before he turns around towards one of the back cabinets. it’s a little white package, with his name inscribed on the label that he hands to you. you give him a strange look, as you open up the box, only to find an insane amount of wrapping. 

after ripping all of the tape and paper out, you pull out two little ceramic mugs, flowery designs of pink and green on them. 

“mugs?” 

“i realized all my mugs here are boring. i bought you some and they’re actually like…bridgerton special edition or something. that one is season one and that one is season two. i saw it and just figured you’d like them because –” 

“oh shut up. you’re so cute!” you respond, holding the little mug close to your chest. 

“you’re very easily impressed.” he states. 

“you saw mugs and thought of me! and your mugs are so boring, it’s like you were reading my mind.” 

the thought of you being a mind reader crosses sukuna’s mind again. 

you give him a gleeful smile, which makes his face light up, before he takes them from you and places them to the sides. 

“about the mugs. i just…i couldn’t sleep after you finally did because i was stuck thinking about everything. mainly of what i was going to do tomorrow morning, when you woke up. i texted sammy, she’s going to come for breakfast to check on your eye with her friend. and i was going to make french toast, surprise you with the mugs before you woke up, and…and make hot chocolate the way you like. i even already timed the doordash order because we don’t have marshmallows and i just…” 

you place your hands on his cheeks and squeeze hard. it’s an eye roll that he gives you in response, but you can see the smallest whisper of a smile on his lips. 

“have i ever told you that you’re the love of my life?” 

“that’s a big statement. the love of your entire life? you’re only twenty-two, angel.” 

“love. of. my. life.” you confirm. 

he smiles, shaking his head. 

“you’re so sweet. why would i ever get mad at you thinking that?” you ask. 

sukuna pauses, before dropping his eyes to your hands. you offer him your free hand and nurse the filled mug of hot chocolate in  your free one, as he fiddles with your hands in his, cracking each of the knuckles in your hand. you can tell that he’s trying to think of what it is, trying to word whatever it is that’s in his mind, and you only squeeze his hands in yours as a signal. 

to take his time. 

“the first time my dad hit me, i…” 

you hear sniffling and look up only to find a steady stream of tears pouring out of his eyes. it makes your heart drop in your chest, as you push off of the counter, and wrap your arms around him. he buries his head into your neck, the wetness trickling down your shirt, as you quietly hum into his ears, running your free hand through his hair. 

it takes him a few minutes to compose himself. but you can tell that his panic is tapering when his breaths start slowing down and he starts wiping the wetness on the back of his hand. he pulls back, giving you a shaky nod, as you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek before he continues. 

“the first time my dad hit me, i was seven.” 

you feel your throat dry. the first time he had come to your house after the fact was when he was twelve. meaning there was five years you hadn’t even thought to consider, to inspect in your memories for signs of it all. 

“no one was home. yuuji had piano and my mom was picking him up and he…he was going through some of my stuff without permission. they were just drawings but i…i can’t remember why i didn’t want him to see. why i was so upset. but i was just was and i started screaming at him and he…he backhand slapped me so hard i fell to the ground.” he murmurs. 

you wince, thinking of sukuna at seven, with his always grumpy face and basketball jerseys getting crumpled onto the ground. you can feel the tears burning in the back of your eye, but try your best to swallow them down. 

“i went to sleep that night and it was the first time i thought about dying.” 

you can feel the air leave your chest. you curl your hand into a fist, your nails indenting the softness of your skin, as you give him a nod to continue. he looks down at your hands and frowns, before uncurling your hands and locking them in with his own. 

“don’t clench your jaw. and don’t ball your hands like that, just…just squeeze my hands instead. i know it’s a lot.” 

it’s a light demand that he gives you and you all but oblige. 

“i am ready to listen, i just…” you start. 

“i nearly broke my own hands listening to you talk about mazzy. it was hard on my heart to know any of that happened.” 

he cups your cheek in his hand, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“i understand. you’re just so down horrendous for me that it hurts.” he states. 

you glare at him. 

“you’re not even far off by saying that.” you deadpan. 

he smiles. 

“i know.” 

you give him a smile back, nearly shivering from the how bare it felt – the shared understanding that you’re seeming to get now – as he continues. 

“every time it happened, i would think about dying. it was never really concrete, like how i was going to do it or making a plan, but…it would just come back to me. i would think about my own death all the time – how it would feel, how it would make other people feel.” 

he pauses. 

“made me feel guilty sometimes. thinking about it, because i know my mom and yuuji needed me, that it would make you and sammy sad and…and i don’t know. it felt wrong to think about, like…like i was committing a crime.” 

he shrugs. 

“sometimes i’d find something to take my mind off of it. my grades at first, winning all those awards. made me feel good until it was too easy. then…then it was girls. i liked the things they said to me – that i was smart, that i was hot.” 

you snort. he gives you a joking glare, before he continues. 

“but then it would get too far, i would get so disgustingly turned off whenever they tried to tell me they loved me because…because i knew they didn’t. and..” 

he pauses, before his eyes go wide. 

“i love it when you tell me you love me. please don’t ever stop.” 

you smile, before stifling a laugh. 

“i love you.” 

he groans. 

“god, why was that kind of hot?” 

you snort. 

“what?” 

“i don’t know! that was really hot. made my skin fucking…burn or something i don’t know. shut up. i hate you.” 

“i was just doing what you asked.” you clarify. 

“and it turns me on when you’re so obedient. you know that.” 

you shake your head, as he laughs. 

“ew. you’re so gross, sukuna.” 

you both laugh, as you watch sukuna visibly relax. 

you can tell that the jokes, as misplaced as they seem in the conversation, make it easier for him to keep going – that they’re soothing his nerves. 

you can’t lie that it doesn’t do the same for you. it’s overwhelming concern that he isn’t okay, that you need to call someone, but the tiniest shreds of this are small reminders that…that maybe he’s just recounting the memory. that maybe it’s just a considerably smaller part of him now, or that it lives in the past, and just informs who he is now. 

he continues. 

“it got worse. i started bleeding into other things too. i didn’t get basketball captain and that was the first thought that came to mind – that i wanted to die. a girl would stop talking to me because she thought i was a dick and that was the only thing i could think about for days after. it got so bad that…that one time i was at school and i didn’t get my locker combination right the first time. and all i thought about was that i was going to sit in my car, drive home, and forget to make the last turn and just go straight into the light pole.” 

sukuna’s messing with the charms of your necklace, running his hand over the star as he talks. you can tell that…that it’s almost rambling now, that he needs it to keep himself tethered. 

“then those got more vivid. thinking of concrete ways. in my dreams, while i was in class. falling down, falling asleep and never waking up. and whenever i’d fight with my dad, if…if i found out he hit my mom while i was gone, i just…” 

he pauses, before he looks up at you. 

“i only left for europe because i knew i was going to die if i didn’t.” he whispers.

you nod. 

of course that’s why he left. the only time he physically had to put himself over the two of them. because the pain of him being gone entirely, as opposed to a few years, was the calculated choice he had to make. 

you reach forward, placing your hand on the side of his cheek, as he leans into the touch. 

“i’m glad you didn’t. we all need you here. like, indefinitely.” you whisper. 

he smiles. 

“it did get better after that. i liked being there, i…i met a lot of different people when i was studying there. visited random places just to see what it was like out there, maybe that things were different. i got a therapist after my third week and just, just had my own life. learned my own limits. what i like, what i don’t.” 

you smile. 

“heavy on learning what i did like. i will note that i missed you a lot when i was there.” 

you scoff. 

“liar. you’re just trying to romance me.” 

he rolls his eyes. 

“what’s your computer background?” 

you squint your eyes at him. 

“your computer locksreen. what has it been since you got your first computer?” he asks. 

“monet. the waterlillies.”

“do you know where the waterlilies are in real life?” 

you smile. 

“let me guess. in europe?” 

he smiles back, before lifting your hands to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“france. musée de l’orangerie. oval rooms, they were put up after monet died.” 

it makes your heart flutter – the way the french falls out of his mouth perfectly. 

“museum of orange?” 

“haha. hilarious.” he responds. 

you grin in response. 

“but really. i heard they were in france. i thought of you and then i had to go see them. i found the exact one – the purple and blue that i had seen on your computer – and all i could think about for the entire week was how you were. how you were a soft spot, how my memories with yuuji were too, and at that basketball park near our house” 

you can feel your chest burning – just from how much you love him. 

“you’ll have to go again. to the waterlillies. but with me this time, okay?” you ask. 

he’s smiling from ear to ear. 

“that’s a promise.” he whispers. 

you lean forward, closing the space between you two. it’s a long kiss – only because every time you try to pull away, he’s just leaning forward so it doesn’t stop. 

“i love you.” he states. 

“me too. more than you know.” you affirm. 

“thanks…thanks for getting it. you…you really are fucking made for me because i don’t get how anyone else would take that.” 

you tilt your head to the side. 

“i don’t get how you think anyone wouldn’t. that’s…that’s normal to think about. to have it come up.” 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“i don’t know. i was just sitting there in bed thinking about it because…because i was planning all that stuff. like calling sammy and the breakfast. and really, if something like this happened years ago when i was here, i’d be thinking of how i wanted to die. and i was just…thinking about what i wanted to do instead. almost like i was looking forward to the next morning, to…to making you feel good and having a good day for us.” 

you smile. 

“i’ve felt that way a lot since i came back. i got nanami a really good birthday gift and i couldn’t wait to give it to him. or when some dumb pop culture thing happens and i see it in the news..it makes satoru so happy when i ask him to explain it that sometimes i find myself looking forward to it. just…reasons to wake up in the morning i guess?” 

“i’m going to tell satoru.” you state. 

“no, you’re not. i’m never talking to you again.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“i don’t know. i figured you’d want me to just think about you after yesterday. a lot of people do and…and most of the time it is just about you, i swear. but i think that…” he starts.

you shake your head. 

“i don’t want you to just think about me. like…if you’re having a sex dream and someone else comes up, i will hate you forever. but it shouldn’t just be me. i want you to have your own life, i want me to have my own, and that we’re just parts of it for each other. and to me…what you told me just sounds like you were making sense of where i fit in with the rest of your life. i would never ever hate that. that’s where i want to be, in there with everything else.” 

sukuna sighs, before leaning his forehead against yours. it’s a long pause before he talks again, but the silence is filled by warm kisses to the side of your face that make your skin singe. 

“did you know that you’re the love of my life?” he whispers. 

you roll your eyes. 

“i said it first.” 

he places his hands around your cheeks, before gently angling your face up so that you’re looking at him. 

“you’re the love of my life. that’s really where you fit in.” sukuna states. 

you can’t help but smile, biting down on the sides of your cheek from the sweetness. 

“you were the first girl i ever liked. the only one i thought about when i was gone. the only one i could ever tell this to. and now i can’t be anywhere except if it’s with you. you’re the love of my life.” 

you smile, before you shake your head. 

“you’re the first guy i ever liked. the only person i ever thought about until you left. you’re the only person i can give myself to. and i…i’m tied to you – you…you can’t get away even if you tried. you’re the love of my life too.” 

he smiles back. 

“i’m not trying.” 

“okay, well it’s a threat. you can’t try.” you joke. 

“i’m not going to.” he whispers, full of sincerity. 

he locks his hand in with yours, before pulling you back towards the bedroom, where you tangle your limbs again until it’s impossible to be closer.

“just one thing before you sleep.” sukuna states. 

“what?” 

“we’re having separate cups of hot chocolate in the morning. you drank the entire fucking cup.”

--

next part linked here

an: PHEW my heart hurts. my favorite chapter me thinks. the fluff is DISGUSTING!!! TOOTH ROTTING! anyways. lets all thank miss taylor alison swift for writing who's afraid of little old me? because that's what made me think of this chapter and how I wanted to come out. like the "I was tame I was gentle until the circus life made me mean" 😭

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @ghostreadersthings @charlie-xo @whoami-72 @heijihattorisgf @megu-meow @complexivelovely @multiplefandomthings @hoebuns @lzaj19 @glossygreene @ramluvr @sureconfused @najaemism @manduse @imhorn1help @gamergirl5125 @r0ckst4rjk @invisible-mori @isaacdaknight @gyros-cum-sock @wishmemel @suftsunshine @i0099 @cowgirlikets @haitanibros0007 @stuffeddeer @yoontaedotin @ec3lipsy @armani78 @awkwardaardvarkforever @kereseth @leave-rae-alone @ruruvia @princess-ackerman @jjkwritingss @lilkiwikiara @opchara @telepathicheartss @starriesworlds @raechu11 @exprimidordefresas @nxxrxm @aalloochaat @strangehuman101 @tzutology

[hypewinter]

A continuation of this

It was amazing how interesting the hors d'oeuvre table became when one was avoiding social interaction. Danny pouted as he filled yet another plate with the tiny little snack foods. He should have listened to Mom. She had warned him he wouldn't like the party but he insisted on coming too. But how could he resist? When he heard all the fun stories his uncles told, he wanted to see for himself. And his grandpa had been so happy that he wanted to come too. Danny thought he would be in for a night of excitement especially since he'd be able to stay up past his bedtime yet instead he was currently bored out of his mind. He was also incredibly uncomfortable.

Danny didn't like how all these older people kept coming up to him and asking him weird questions or squeezing his cheeks. His mom and uncles tried to intercept as many people as possible but some people had gotten to him and. Danny didn't complain though as he's the one who wanted to come anywhere and he didn't want to seem like a brat. Plus he was still holding out hope that one of his uncles would do something interesting and if he complained, he might be taken home early.

That's why Danny had taken to avoiding his mom. She was very good at reading him and was even teaching him how to read others. If she saw him it would take 0.2 seconds for her to realize he didn't want to be here anymore. Mom was really nice so she would probably take him back home when she noticed. But Danny was a big boy and big boys suck it up for uncomfortable parties that they begged to attend. Though he still wished Sam were here. Sam? Who's Sam? He couldn't remember. There were a lot of things Danny couldn't remember. Even when he tried really hard to.

"Ah so this is the newest Wayne brat!"

Danny was pulled from his thoughts and looked up to see a man staring down at him. The man's blonde hair was very shiny. Must be full of a lot of that gel Uncle Damian liked to use. But he had put on too much and now his head looked all flat and shiny. But maybe the man liked being shiny since he had a lot of gold jewelry on too.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to stare?" the man said harshly, his lazy brown eyes boring into Danny. His body language was practically screaming How dare you? Better than you. This man seemed to sway quite a lot too. Was he drunk? Mom had warned him to stay away from drunk people but it would be rude to just walk away wouldn't it?

Instead Danny put down his plate and signed, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. You just have really pretty jewelry sir."

The man's glare only intensified. "Huh? Whazzat? Talk damnit!" He began to project annoyance.

Danny furrowed his brows slightly. The man had said a bad word. You're not supposed to say bad words around children. At least that's what Grandpa Alfred had taught him when Uncle Jason got in trouble for saying one near him. It was also frustrating that this man didn't know any sign language.

Nevertheless, Danny pulled out his phone and opened the notes app. He clicked on the first page which read, "I'm sorry, I have limited speech and use sign language to communicate. However I can use this notepad instead." He held it up for the man to read.

Yet again the man didn't seem to be satisfied as he retorted, "You can speak but you choose not to? You're an arrogant little brat aren't you?" Angry. How dare you think you're above me? Uh oh.

Danny quickly scrolled down to a blank space so that he could explain it wasn't like that but he never got the chance. The man snatched the phone from Danny's hands.

"Listen you little turd," the man hissed, leaning in close. It took all the self control in Danny's body not to gag at his breath. "You may think you're all high and mighty just because you got lucky but make no mistake. You're just gutter trash. Just like all the other pests Wayne brought into his household and just like your mother."

Tears pricked at Danny's eyes. That wasn't true. Neither his uncles nor his mother were trash. They were good people. The nicest people ever. They saved Danny from that terrible terrible place and gave him lots of hugs and sweets and warmth. This man didn't know what he was talking about.

The man continued, "You'll do well to respect me as unlike you and your little pretend family, I actually come from a distinguished background. I'm not some orphan from an unknown background whose parents probably sold him for drug money. Do you hear me?" Hostile. Don't mess with me!

"If I tell you to speak to me, you speak to me. Is that clear?" You're beneath me. Know your place.

Danny didn't know how much longer he could keep the tears at bay. Luckily he didn't have to.

"Is there a problem?" There she was. Mom! In all of her glory. Her hair done up in a little bun and dressed in a suit matching his. He had actually picked it out for her.

Danny rushed over to her and clung to her leg. Not trash he projected. My family. Meanwhile, the man's attitude did a complete 180. "Ah Ms. Cassandra it's so nice to see you again! I was just complimenting your little one on how cute his suit looked on him!"

Mom ignored him and looked to Danny instead.

What happened?

Insulted you. Insulted my family. Mean man. Bad man.

Cass gently patted Danny's head. He loved when she did that. Okay now. Don't worry.

Mom turned back to the man. "For someone so much better than everyone, you really like hanging out in the Bowery," she said. I know your secret.

The man stiffened. Does she know? How does she know? "I'm really not sure what you're referring to Ms. Wayne." Nervous. Agitated.

Mom didn't say anything. Just leveled a stare at the man. His smile began slipping in the awkward silence. Panicked. Must leave.

"Well I should probably be going now. I feel like I've had too much to drink. Perhaps I'll go sit down," the man said quickly, excusing himself and disappearing into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, Cass turned back to Danny. Okay? Danny buried his face into her leg. Wanna go home. In the next moment, Danny felt himself being picked up and cradled in his mother's arms. Let's go home, she portrayed with a smile. Danny desperately clung to her suit as his bottom lip wobbled.

"Sorry," he whispered. He wanted her to know he really meant it. That he was truly sorry.

He felt a kiss be planted on his forehead. "Don't be," Mom replied. Danny wrapped his arms around her neck and closed his eyes, finally letting the tears he'd been holding at bay fall. He took in the warmth and love his mother showered over him. His family wasn't trash. They were his saviors.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 06 - Medical Play]

Pairing: Bratty Good Boy!Seokjin x Hard Domme!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU

Kinks: Doctor & patient role play, brat taming, use of a stethoscope, examination play, anal play, use of a thermostate, use of a prostate vibrator, prostate milking, thigh fucking, impact play with a leather paddle, masochist!Seokjin, subby boy tears, overstimulation, thigh fucking, hips guiding, pissing from too much stimulation, multiple orgasms (m.receiving), he stands against a wall first then lies over her lap, he fakes being sick to get babyboy treatment by her, she finds out and punishes him, they talk about it at first though, cuddly aftercare with lots of praises

Wordcount: 6.8k

a/n: some of you just have such good ideas istfg *kisses anon's mind* this is so hOT JFAJSDFJ

With his schedule being tightly packed, your boyfriend has been practically missing from your life for more than two weeks at this point. You would be lying if you said that you didn't miss him. He leaves when you are still sleeping and comes home when you are already sleeping. It is a lonely life when he is busy. So when you got a call from Seokjin a few days ago, telling you that he would be coming home earlier, you felt delighted. It had been five days since that call and you painfully had to come to term with the fact that the reason for his earlier arrival was a nasty cold. Just like this, went your plans for some nice alone time with him.

You don’t mind caring for him because you wanted to see him better. He always cares for you as well when you are sick or on your period, so you aren’t grumpy about this. You are grumpy because he is the whiniest baby in the history of sick people.

Ever since he came home, he has been complaining about his aching head and stuffy nose non-stop. He even begged you not to leave him, which lead to you calling your workplace to tell them you had to take some time off for nursing-care. A mistake, you later realised. Seokjin acted like a complete baby, whining and asking you to do the most ridiculous things for him. One time you even had to help him pee, as he was too weak to hold Seokjin Junior (his words not yours). 

Eventhough reluctantly, you still did everything he asked of you. He was sick after all and given the many times Seokjin took care of you when your period cramps became unbearable, it was only fair to do the same for him.

That is until Friday came. You had been out shopping for groceries and some dearly needed toiletries when you spotted Seokjin running along the Han River. He looked perfectly healthy, mouth-watering even if you wouldn’t have been that angry. Despite your annoyance, you didn’t say anything to him when you came home. He looked terrible when you came running into his bedroom, his eyes hollow and his skin as pale as his walls. Maybe you had mistaken him for a stranger? 

You hadn’t. So Jimin accidentally dropped the bomb to you today, Saturday, one day after you saw your sick boyfriend running along Han River. Apparently he and Jimin met up for a quick jog and chat. You thanked Jimin for telling you the truth and ended the call.

“When I catch you, Kim Seokjin”, you mumble, stirring the soup for your oh-so-sick boyfriend with the biggest frown on your face.

“Babyyy, please save me”, you suddenly hear him shout from his bedroom. He sounds actually hurt and like the caring girlfriend you are, you waste no time to rush to him as quickly as possible, leaving the steaming soup on the kitchen counter. 

“What happened? Are you okay?” you ask concerned. He has his eyebrows furrowed and a pained expression on his face.

“No I’m not. My pillow is too hot, can you please turn it for me?” he whines. 

You sigh loudly, nope, he is just his annoying lazy self. You clench your jaw, your desire to whack his butt with the soft pillow growing in your stomach.

“You’re disrupting my cooking for this? I was making soup for you. Couldn’t you have turned it yourself?” you ask with crossed arms.

Seokjin shakes his head, wincing in pain afterwards as if the small gesture was too much for him.

“No, my arms are too weak”, he whines looking at you with big puppy eyes. Oh, how you wanted to wipe the pout off of his face. “Please baby help me, I’m so uncomfortable”, he whines even more miserably when you show no signs of moving.

You let out an annoyed sigh before walking to his bedside and pulling the pillow from below his head, making him fall onto the mattress. He groans in pain, rubbing the back of his neck, which hadn’t been ready for the sudden movement before looking up at you with big eyes. You don’t break eye contact with him, your jaw clenched and your fingers clutching onto the white pillow until your knuckles turn white. You could throw the pillow at his head, just once, it would serve him right. You stop shaking it out for a moment, contemplating if you should do it or not. You decide against it, you weren’t raised like that. You still practically throw the pillow at Seokjin’s chest, not even caring how rough your movement was. 

“There. Enjoy it”, you growl, already turning around before Seokjin’s hand clutching onto your apron stops you.

“Baby, are you mad at me? You are acting weird ever since Friday”, he asks with worried eyes.

His question makes you stop and turn around

“I just find it weird that you are down with a cold for more than five days now, when normally you are running around healthy again after two days. Don’t you think it’s a little bit out of character?”

Let’s see if he gets the hint.

Seokjin glances sideways for a moment before he looks back at you. He shrugs his shoulders, leaning back into his pillow.

“It’s because of the AC on the airplane. It made everything so much worse”, he fake coughs, “See? My lungs are practically oozing out of me.”

You grimace at his use of words, making a sound of disgust, “that was rancid.”

Seokjin coughs again, harder than before. You have to give it to him, this man knows how to act.

“I, know, it’s, so, bad”, he chokes out between coughs.

It’s getting ridiculous at this point. You roll your eyes at him before turning your back to him.

“Sure keep telling yourself that”, you grumble before walking out of his bedroom and returning to your task of serving him his highly-requested soup. “You know, I talked to Jimin on the phone.”

“Wha-”

You close the door. You know for a fact that he understood what you were implying. You hope that he boils in his soup of guilt just as wildly as the vegetables in his stupid food do.

You return to him with a bowl of said soup and a glass of orange juice on a wooden tray. Seokjin is sitting on the edge of the bed, head lowered in shame.

“I’m sorry”, he murmurs.

“For what?” you ask him because you want to hear him admit it. You walk to the bed, putting the tray on the bedside table. You straighten up, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I lied to you. I haven’t felt sick since yesterday.”

“I know. I saw you run along Han River.”

“You did?!” he gawks up at you with widened eyes.

“I did. But then I came home to you looking like a pale ghost so I thought that I was mistaken. Until Jimin accidentally dropped the truth. I’m disappointed in you, Seokjin. Why are you lying to me? I took days off work to take care of you and you take advantage of me.”

“It’s not that. I have good reasons why I’m still pretending.”

“They must be mighty good reasons because I don’t see any appeal in making your partner dedicate their entire day to health care when it’s not even necessary.”

“I felt good yesterday and, and I took that run with Jimin and I wanted to tell you when you were home, but then on my way home I tripped on the sidewalk and twisted my ankle and now it hurts and I feel shitty again.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah seriously. Look”, he pulls the pants leg up, showing you his slightly swollen ankle.

“Oh my god Seokjin, are you okay? That doesn’t look healthy.”

“I can move it”, he demonstrates it with a hiss of pain, “it’s just twisted and my pride is broken. And I need you to take care of me because I’m just an infant in pain.”

You laugh, picking up his pillow to slap his chest with it.

“Shut up you idiot. Only you can manage to get healthy only to blow it by twisting your ankle.”

“I know, I’m stupid and I’m sorry”, he takes your hands, pulling you onto his lap like this. “I shouldn’t have lied. I thought if I kept quiet, I can heal without having to admit my stupid accident. If I knew that you saw me, I would have confessed. I’m sorry.”

You give up with a sigh, “apology accepted I guess. I still think you’re an idiot.”

“I know, that’s your right.”

You snicker, he smiles at the sound of it, rubbing your thighs innocently. You look into his eyes, heart fluttering. With another sigh of defeat, you swing your legs over his lap so you were facing him. His hands touch your lower back, you play with his messy hair.

“I missed you lately, you know?” you tell him.

“I missed you too. Maybe that’s why I don’t wanna get healthy either. If I’m healthy, I gotta leave you for work. I don’t want that.”

“Yeah, I get that”, you say, leaning in to kiss his cheek. He chases the affection, squeezing your butt.

“Hey, hands off.”

“Oop, sorry”, he gasps, pulling them away.

You click your tongue, giving his chest a soft slap.

“Only good boys get to touch my butt. You’ve been a naughty boy, so no butt or boobs for you.”

He pouts.

“Pout all you want. That’s what you get”, you say and get off his lap.

Seokjin drops into the pillow with a loud groan, rolling his head to the side.

“You’re both making me horny and breaking my heart.”

You chuckle, “good. The soup’s on the table, eat it while it’s still warm.”

“Wait.” He sits up. “Can’t you feed me?”

“You’re alright.”

“No, I’m not. I’m a weak boy”, he pouts cutely, “please?”

“Fine. You big baby.”

You sit down on the edge of his bed and take the silver spoon between your fingers. Seokjin opens his mouth as widely as possible when you come close to him with a filled spoon. Once inside he closes it, pouting out his lips whilst looking at you through his lashes.

“Wow baby, the soup is amazing”, he gasps, grinning at you. 

“Thanks”, you mumble, eyes glued to his lips.

“More”, he tells you already opening his mouth for you. 

Look at his ready mouth, his pink lips wet from him licking them and his eyes looking at you expectantly. A dark thought flashes through your mind. Oh how you would love to see that face in any other situation than him begging for soup. Like him begging for release, all sweaty and sticky from the lube tripping onto the carpet out of his beautiful ass, his hands folded on his thighs as he is kneeling on the floor, all whilst pretty flocking marks spread all over his skin. It would serve him right for lying to you.

Being lost in your own little fantasy, you don’t even notice your hand had moved on its own until you can hear Seokjin yell out in pain.

“Please blow on it, it’s too hot”, he says eyeing the soup in pain.

“You are a huge baby you know that? Can’t you blow on it yourself?” you whine, still fulfilling his wish.

Seokjin shakes his head, “it’s so much better if you do it. You are so much more skilled with blowing stuff”, he says, his lips twitching up into a small smirk.

You stop blowing. He wiggles his brows.

“Urgh shut up, your flirts are not gonna work on me.”

“I think they are.”

“No, they’re not.” You shove the soup into his mouth. “Shut up and eat your soup.”

Seokjin mewls, looking into your eyes as deeply as possible. You gulp. Look at him. His eyes beg you silently to keep the spoon inside. His lips engulf the metal shaft. They look so plumb, so pink and soft, oh how amazing they would probably feel sucking on your fingers.

You blink, quickly looking away. Your mind had wandered off again, god damnit. 

You pull your hand back and stand up, “I’m cleaning the kitchen.”

Seokjin nods his head, humming obediently.

It is a fair bit cooler in your living room than it was in your bedroom. Exactly what you needed right now. You let yourself fall down on your big couch and close your eyes. Why did your mind have to betray you like that? Yes, he was flirting but you thought of the nastiest of things. But then. Who could blame you? It has been too long since you have been intimate with him. The last two weeks he was never home and before that, he was too busy with practicing and recording new songs and far too tired for sex whenever he came home. It wasn’t a big deal to you at first, it’s not like you can’t survive without sex, but as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into a month, you slowly felt yourself grow desperate. Sure you still had your hands and a big collection of toys to keep you entertained. And oh boy, entertained you were. But you still missed the feeling of his hot skin pressed against yours, the feeling of his soft hands exploring your body and the feeling of his skilled tongue eating you out until you saw stars. 

And Seokjin, he for sure didn’t help at all. Of course you were still a little frustrated with him, but to be honest right now you wanted nothing more than to jump his bones and ride him until both of you lose your ability to speak. Frustrated or not, you were horny and desperate to feel him again. So why not combine both of your current emotions and make it all the more exciting?

You smirk at your idea, jumping up from the sofa to run into your hobby room. You pull open the uppermost drawer of your dark wooden dresser, in which you store a big portion of your sex toy collection. With a few reaches into the drawer, everything you needed was laid out neatly in front of you. A pair of black stockings as well as a pair of red stockings, you will decide later which one would be more fitting. Next to them was a pair of your favourite latex gloves and a bottle of cherry lube, not your favourite but Seokjin has a thing for it so if it makes him happy you won’t complain, and last but not least, you put down a small bag of medical tools and a variety of toys.

With your tools being ready, now all you needed to do was to get ready yourself. You walk to your closet and open the left door, revealing a row full of costumes from a police officer uniform all the way to a doctor’s uniform. You and Seokjin have a slight thing for role plays. It might actually be a little obsession between you and him. Sometimes you both dress up, sometimes it’s just you and sometimes it’s just him.

Your fingers brush over the costume you were looking for, “there you are.”

It is a short, white nurse dress with a red cross on your left breast pocket and a matching hat. Exactly what you needed for the little idea you had in your mind. You slip into the costume and pull the red net stockings with lace on the top up your legs before slipping into red lacquer heels. You finish off your look with a deep red lip and take the big doctor's bag with your toys.

You knock on the bedroom door.

“Come in!” Seokjin calls out.

You slip inside the room. He is sitting up, playing a game on the TV. Now that you found out about his lie, he feels comfortable in doing what he wants.

“Hello there.”

“Hey baby, I finished the soup. It was so good. Thank you for cooking.”

“Seokjin, look at me.”

He obeys and gasps. His jaw goes slack, eyes drinking in every little inch of your body. He instantly presses pause on the game. You smirk at his expression pulling a little pose in front of him.

“I am here to care for you, patient Kim”, you say, your voice sultry.

“Baby!” he exclaims, throwing the control to the side, “what do you mean? Are you serious?”

You hum, putting your hand on one of his thighs. You can feel his muscles tense from your touch and watch his throat move as he gulps hard.

“I’m very serious and you very sick. I need to take care of you, don’t I?” you coo, fluttering your lashes at him.

“Are you…” he gulps and almost whimpers the words, “…gonna be rough with me ‘cause I lied?”

“Do you think that I should be rough with you?” you ask, masking your question for his consent this way.

He licks his lips, whispering a weak, “yeah.”

“Yes? Well if that’s so.” You give his cheek a little slap, making him moan and close his eyes. “I will choose my treatment accordingly.”

“Oh god”, he gets out, ears slowly turning red in giddiness.

You straighten up and place the bag on the bedside table.

“Turn off the TV, I want silence when I work.”

“Yes Miss Nurse.”

“It’s Doctor for you, understood?”

“Y-yes, Doctor ma’am. I’m sorry.”

“Good. Now that we have talked about that, can I care for you patient Kim?” you ask, taking out the pair of latex gloves.

He ogles them, gulping once again.  

“Yes please”, he begs, nodding his head vigorously.

“Good.” You take out a douche and lube, putting both on his lap. “You know what to do.”

Seokjin takes the tools and rolls out of bed. He limbs to the bathroom as quickly as his twisted ankle allows him.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna get it checked out?” you ask him.

“I have you, haven’t I?” he flirts and disappears in the bathroom.

You scoff, rolling your eyes, “he’s such a brat.” Afterwards you turn to your doctor’s bag, preparing the scene while Seokjin cleans out.

It isn’t long until Seokjin limps back to you. You study him while he is busy looking at what you laid out. He seems very excited already, eyes widening in anticipation. He is still in his PJs but brushed his hair. It’s very attractive that he made an effort.

“Okay, stop.” 

He obeys, waiting patiently for you. You let him wait for a little, circling him without touching him. He tries his very hardest not to follow you with his eyes, keeping his head as still as possible.

“Mhm.”

You are in front of him again, writing into your notepad. Seokjin tries to steal a glance but gets caught by you right away. He fixes his head, gulping nervously.

“Hm.” 

More writing. He shifts from one foot to the other, flexing and relaxing his hands. He can’t bear the silence and the unknown. 

“Mh-hm.” 

You finally finish writing by slamming your pen down on the paper to make an aggressiv dot. You did it on purpose, of course, to make Seokjin jump a little. He is so adorable when he startles. 

You place the notepad into your chest pocket and turn to get your first tool. Seokjin might need to say something. He can’t handle the silence. It’s riling him up way too much.

With your back still turned to him, you finally break the silence. 

“Get naked. My examination requires nudity.” 

He follows your orders gladly. Finally. Oh, he is so happy. Finally something is happening. He swears that his cock is already getting harder just from the thrill of doing something.

He stands with his head held high once he is undressed, only his red ears and flushed chest are indicators of his shyness upon being looked at in such a state. He is breathing heavily, nipples erect and cock just hardened enough to look tempting. Not that his cock looks any less tempting when soft. He has the prettiest cock ever.

“Look at you”, you murmur, feeling delirious in need for a moment. It has been too long since you last saw him like this. You missed him and if you weren’t currently lost in a roleplay, you would tell him so. “Your body is very pleasing to look at.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Quiet. I need absolute silence when I work.” 

Seokjin mewls softly, biting down on his lower lip. The inner corners of his eyebrow lift as he gives you the sweetest puppy eyes. You ignore them of course, despite wanting to squish his cheeks and kiss every single inch of his handsome face. You cannot give in.  

You roll your shoulders back and clear your throat.

“Well then, sit down.” 

Seokjin obeys. His back is perfectly straight, his hands are presented on his thighs with his palms up. He looks up at you, eyes still so perfectly cute and lips parted slightly. You let him, but do nothing about it. Your heart is secretly racing however and your mind keeps racing with thoughts of how cute he is. 

You pick up the stethoscope and put it into your ears. 

“Stay still and quiet.”

He nods his head in obedience, holding his breath as you listen to his pulse. You feel tingly. His heart is racing so much. You touch his shoulder, taking in how his pulse flutters and then beats even faster. 

“Mhm I see”, you murmur and put the stethoscope on his back. Like this, your breasts are mere inches away from his face and judging by the sharp intake of breathe, he is aware of that. “Breathe in for me.” 

Seokjinobeys. His breath fills his lungs. His heart races. 

“Breathe out.”

The air leaves him again, but his racingheart remains.

“One more time. In”, you rasp, stepping closer so your breasts would brush against his face.

He obeys your order, but does it very shakily, thighs squeezing together. Through the fabric of your dress you can feel his lips mouth at your breasts and as you glance down, you notice his eyes fell closed.

“Hold it in.”

He obeys while you look at him. He is so handsome when he is lost in you. You shake your head to get rid of your feelings. Do not give in to temptations.

“Breathe out.”

He obeys, hot breath swirling over your clothed chest. It feels so warm and nice. Do not give in to temptations.

“Good”, you say and step back, leaving him to gasp as his heaven gets taken away.

His reaction was definitely worth staying stronger than the temptations. He is so adorable when he realises how easily you can take away his heaven.

“My assumptions were sadly correct”, you say as you write into your notepad.

Seokjin looks at you nervously and beyond turned on.

“You are officially suffering with brattiness. It’s a very serious illness, but don’t worry. I can heal it very easily.”

He mewls, biting his lower lip.

“I will have to make one more examination however to determine the correct treatment”, you say and shove the notepad into your chest pocket.

You place the stethoscope aside and round the bed to look for your next tool. You act as if you can’t find it because you know that Seokjin gets desperate between long waits.

“What are you doing next?” he asks just as expected. He is so predictable. How wonderful.

“Next I will…hm…” you trail off as you look for your tool. “Mhmm…”

Seokjin shifts, trying to sneak a glance. He is such a delight.

“Ah there!”

He exhales shakily, squeezing his thighs together.

“There you are, little thing was hiding”, you say and pick up the thermostat.

Seokjin ogles it, straightening his back and gulping heavily in preparation. You walk back to him, heart fluttering when he tilts his head back and opens his mouth.

“Oh you sweet innocent boy”, you taunt him, closing his mouth with a press to his chin.

He furrows his brows in confusion, puffy lips pouting.

“That’s not how you take a brat’s temperature, you little thing”, you coo and boop his nose.

He gulps, cock twitching because of your words. It twitches again when you dance your gloved hand to his neck and down to his chest. With a gentle nudge, you make him fall into the sheets. He moans loudly, legs hanging off the edge and cock twitching between them.

You inspect him for a moment, let him get desperate again. There is two ways you could go about this. Using the thin neck of the thermostat to sound his cock or stick it up his ass. He would most definitely lose his sanity with both options. The deciding factor is your own greed for seeing him with his legs up. You hook your hands under his knees and lift them, bending them so you can press them into the sheets on each side of his body.

Seokjin moans, gripping his own thighs instantly so he can stay in position.

“You’re getting an idea, aren’t you?” you ask him, preparing the thermostat.

“Yes, Doctor”, he breathes, eyes gawking at the ceiling nervously.

“You know, this isn’t how I normally take my patient’s temperature, but I make exceptions for bratty boys”, you say, wiping the access lube on the laid out towel. You don’t want to put it on his hole because he is supposed to take the thermostat raw. Just the lube on the shaft should make it easier for him. He deserves a little pinch.

You put your left hand on his lower stomach and apply pressure, thrusting the thermostat into his hole at the same time.

“Ah!” Seokjin flinches, toes curling and head lifting off the sheets. His neck is tense and his eyes are widened.

You wiggle the thermostat inside him for a little, rubbing circles into his stomach.

“God hmmm”, he lets out, dimpling his thighs.

“Almost done, I just need to angle it properly otherwise the results could be flawed”, you explain and slide it out just to thrust it back inside again.

Seokjin drops his head, but arches his back. He is so sexy, eliciting a chuckle from you.

“This is such a thin tool and yet you are arching your back. I should put your eagerness for anal stimulation into my notes.”

“Fuck”, he curses under his breath, tensing up in an attempt to come off as uninterested.

You chuckle, shifting your eyes to the thermostat. You press on the button.

“Now we have to wait.”

Seokjin breathes quickly, biting his lower lip. You let him agonise in the silence at first before you break it with a question.

“It is eagerness, isn’t it?”

He nods his head.

“What was that?”

“Yes”, he croaks.

“Yes? So you’re a brat and, forgive my wording, an anal whore?”

“Yes”, he mewls, tensing his neck as your words sink into the deepest fibers of his body. The way you degrade him will always ruin him. You don’t do it so obvious and straight forward like others do, you hide it behind a sweet voice and tender words. You make it sound as if you were being kind to him while in reality you called him the most degrading things. Seokjin swears he could orgasm just from that.

The thermostat beeps.

“Oh? Already done?” you gasp and pull it out quickly, ignoring the needy mewl he lets out. You step back, inspecting the result for a while so he can get impatient again. He shifts, lifting his head. Got him. You smirk, reading the results out loud, “thirty eight point three. Your temperature is a little raised, but I’m sure it’s because of our, well, current situation.” 

You obviously made up the result. He has a very  healthy temperature right now.

“Holy fucking shit, ___”, he gets out breathily, dropping his head into the sheets in utter defeat.

“I’m sorry? What did you just call me?” you hiss.

“Doctor!”

“No no, I think you were being a rude brat again. How fucking dare you.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s a little too late for that. You are a lost cause, patient Kim. I thought that I could heal you with natural medicine, but it seems that you need stronger drugs to get good again.”

You walk back to your tools. Wait. Seokjin shows his impatience by dropping his legs so he could crane his neck and look. When all he meets are your darkened, knowing eyes, he tenses up and looks away, gulping nervously.

You sigh, “how disappointing”, you say quietly but loud enough that he can hear.

Seokjin keens, biting down on his lower lip. He doesn’t dare to move, listening to the clicking of your heels as you round the bed again. Whatever you are carrying is going to go inside or on his body, but he doesn’t dare to move.

“You know, I don’t like using such methods to treat my patients, so this is very difficult for me to do”, you talk to him as you prepare the anal plug. 

It is curved and vibrates and it will give him the most delicious prostate stimulations ever.

“I’ll be good, I swear”, Seokjin croaks.

“Of course you will be. Once I’m finished with you”, you say, pushing the plug inside without warning.

“Ah!” Seokjin yelps, closing his legs instinctively.

“Nuh-uh, take it”, you force them apart again, wiggling the toy deep inside him.

“Ahmmmmm”, Seokjin lets out, twisting his own hair. He expected something to go up his ass, but not his favourite vibrator. Anything but this. It feels so good and it isn’t even turned on yet. 

A faint click lets him know that you connected the bluetooth with the remote. He lifts his head, having to still his impatience. You aren’t holding the control, instead a leather paddle is tangling from your finger. You meet his eyes, keeping him captive with nothing but a playful smirk. 

“Fifteen spanks. That’s all you need to bear and then you should be cured.” 

Seokjin gulps, clenching around the toy. He is already dizzy and you haven’t even started yet. 

“It will hurt me more than it will hurt you. I hate having to cure boys like this, but your case of bratiness is too strong. It can only be healed like this.” 

“Please”, Seokjin croaks, eyes widened pleadingly. 

You twirl the paddle. 

“Stand up.” 

Seokjin obeys instantly, chest heaving up and down quickly and eyes following you as you come closer. 

You connect the paddle with his chest, guiding it over his skin as you round him. Goosebumps follow the touch, he is chasing you with tenses of his muscles. 

“Can you stand?” you ask him and the sound of your voice is enough to let him know that you are being serious right now. 

“It doesn’t hurt right now.”

“Good. Tell me if it starts to.”

“Okay.”

“Now”, you give his buttocks a gentle spank to pull him back into the scene.

He gasps, tensing his buttocks. 

“Against the wall and put your hands up.”

Seokjin obeys, barely breathing. This is so exciting to him. And so incredibly hot. 

“Legs further apart”, you order, spanking his inner thighs gently.

He obeys, fingers twitching on the wall. He is in a dream. You literally own him. 

“Very good. We can begin.”

The vibrator springs to life, dragging a yelp of pleasure from his lips. He throws his head back, knees buckling and buckling again as you land your first spank before he could even recover from the surprise. 

“One.” 

The second spank knocks him into the wall. Not because you were so rough with it, but rather because Seokjin is weakened. His legs are shaking because of the toy. It feels so good, pressing right against his prostate and stimulating his rim as well. You chose his favourite setting. Everything about the toy is currently ruining him and then you come along and spank him. Of course he ends up falling against the wall. He can only handle that much. 

You care rather little about his struggles, lifting your arm for yet another spank. You count loudly, striking his tender skin at the same time. His left buttocks jiggles and reddens. You give him no break, landing the forth strike on his right buttocks to even it out. 

“Mistress”, Seokjin whimpers, clawing at the wall as he tries to drag himself up. His cheek is squished against it, eyes squeezed shut. 

“I appreciate the manners, but that’s not what I told you to call me. Two more spanks are needed. Five, six.”

He flinches with each impact, legs shaking and cock throbbing. It is rubbing against the wall, leaving wet imprints of his pleasure. He can’t help himself. The vibrator feels so good on his prostate that he keeps leaking. 

“Seven”, you make it sting especially well by striking him across both buttocks. The impact pushes the toy deeper. 

“A-ah wait”, Seokjin stumbles, convulsing. He reaches behind himself, “hurts. Ankle hurts.”

You stop the vibrator, letting the paddle tangle on your wrist for now. You hold his waist.

“Sit down, baby. Careful, okay?” 

“I’m okay, just felt my ankle pinch.”

“That’s alright. Just sit down and get comfy.”

He does so with a hiss, shifting and wiggling as the toy presses deeper into him. 

“Oh god”, he gets out, pressing his hand to his lower stomach. He rolls his eyes back, folding himself in half. “Doctor I can’t. More please.”

You chuckle, relaxing. What a relief to see him so desperate for more. 

“I think the question of if you wanna continue is useless?”

“Please Doctor, I’ll do anything. Please.” 

“Fine. You still have eight spanks left anyway. It wouldn’t be wise to stop in the middle of your treatment. Just know that I will find no pleasure in hurting you”, you say and sit down on bed next to him. 

Seokjin falls over your lap without having to be ordered to. He sticks his ass into the air, burying his face in the sheets. His eagerness melts you.

You chuckle, rubbing his heated butt.

“If you’re being such a good boy, I feel like I’m giving you the wrong treatment.” 

“No please. No, i-i-it’s only because it’s working. Please I need more, it’s not enough you, you champignon.” 

“Champignon?” you chuckle. 

“Yes, that was an insult. The brattiness is coming back.”

You laugh. He is such a goof sometimes. 

“It seems like it does”, you play along, “very well then, more treatment is necessary”, you conclude and turn on the vibrator. 

Seokjin moans, cock twitching on your lap and thighs shaking. He is back in heaven. It is so intense, so electric, so warm. The vibrations ebb and rise in intensity, making it feel as if you were moving the toy in and out of him.

“Where were we?” 

“Seven”, he croaks

“Ah yeah and what comes after that?”

“Eight-ah!”

“Good job. Oh that felt good. I can really leave an imprint in this position. Nine.”

Seokjin can feel it as well that you are having a lot more impact in your spanks. They burn, hitting him sharply. No words can describe how much he needed that. He twists the sheets, arching his back. 

“Ten.” 

Pain. So sharp. So deep. So good. Seokjin trembles on your lap, toes curling and cock leaking uncontrollably. As a matter of fact, he managed to smear your thighs with so much of his excitement that his cock manages to slip between them. 

He feels it instantly, spilling tears and sobbing your name. 

“Wrong name. You’ve brought the next two on yourself”, you say and strike him with such vigour it echoes for a second. 

Seokjin takes them happily, fucking his sensitive cock with your thighs as his prostate throbs and his ass burns. 

You noticed his cock between your thighs as well. Of course you did. It is so hard and wet. You should stop him, but you don’t want to. He looks so good when he is humping you like a stupid puppy. Especially when he humps even harder each time you strike his reddened buttocks. 

You only have three more to go and you really want to make them count. The first you land on the lower area of his right buttocks. It’s especially sensitive, resulting in Seokjin to squeak and sob into the sheets.

“Don’t cry. It’s only for your best. You’re almost done, I promise.”

The second spank you land on his other buttock, wanting to make it equal. Seokjin twitches and writhes, fucking your thighs sloppily. There is no rhythm behind his movements, just utter and pure desperation. His noises let you know of it as well. He is squeaking so much. It is so honest, so utterly submissive and perfect. 

“Last one. I’ll make it hurt, I don’t want to, but I have to”, you say and lift the paddle. You aim it to the middle of his ass, across his flushed buttocks.

Seokjin takes it with a scream, orgasming against his will.

“I’m sorry”, he sobs into the mattress, shaking uncontrollably.

“Nono, don’t apologise. This is perfect”, you say and grab his hips to guide their movements. You force him to fuck your thighs quickly, despite the overstimulation that causes. 

Seokjin wails up, muffling himself a second later by biting the sheets. You speak of perfection while your hands torture him. You aren’t happy about his unwanted orgasm, you are happy that you can overstimulate him because of it. That you can force him to pound your creamed thighs and take the vibrations until he can’t help but squirt all over himself. 

He gags and cries, trying to flee you but you only press him tighter to your lap as you laugh menacingly. The floor gets dirty. You hear it. How wonderful. He is so big and strong and yet right now, he is the smallest and weakest person to have ever existed. And you did that. By spanking his ass to the point of bruising and overstimulating every single one of his pleasure spots, you reduced him to your little bitch. 

“Yellow, red, I don’t know, just no more please”, Seokjin begs after he finally stopped fucking squirting all over himself.

“Good boy”, you praise, releasing his hips. You turn off the toy and tug it out carefully, discarding it on the towel. 

Seokjin sits up and climbs on your lap, hugging you tightly.

“Oh you sweetie, come here you”, you say, hugging him back, “you did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Seokjin whimpers, hiding away in the safety of your neck. His lips nib on it slowly, his breathing is shaky, but calms down the longer he is in your embrace. 

“That was pretty intense and you handled it so well. God, I’m so proud of you, sweetie. I have the best boy ever”, you praise him, playing with his hair. You have your left hand on his lower body, massaging whatever sensitive spot of his butt is exposed. It is hot to the touch. 

He chases your hand, which lets you know that he likes it. You still want to hear it from him.

“Is this nice for you?” 

“Yes, really.”

“Then I’ll keep doing this. My good boy, you took me so well. Was it good for you?”

He nods his head vigorously, “it was perfect. Everything was perfect. You are perfect.” 

You smile, hugging him closer. 

“This feels good to hear. I love you, Jinnie baby.”

“I love you too.” He kisses your shoulder. “So much, it’s insane”, he whispers, making your heart flutter. 

He lifts his head, meeting your love-filled eyes. He mirrors your state with flushed cheeks and puffy, bitten lips. 

“You look ruined”, you chuckle, wiping the tears from his lashes. 

“I am ruined. I pissed myself because you wouldn’t slow down.” 

“I know. That’s why I did it. You’re so pretty when you lose control over yourself.”

His ears turn red, his eyes can’t seem to meet yours anymore. You chuckle, rubbing his buttocks.

“Does your butt hurt lots?” 

“It’s definitely sore, but I don’t mind. You spanked me perfectly.” 

“I did?” 

“Yeah”, he hugs you, “I love being your sub, ___.” 

“Oh wow, you say the sweetest stuff, my baby”, you gasp and cradle him as tightly as possible, “my sweet sub, I love having you too.” 

Seokjin melts into you with a sigh, “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

“I’ll still be sick for the rest of the week.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Mhm, at least to the public. We have so much catching up to do.”

“I can get behind this plan”, you say in a smile.

“Good, then tomorrow you’re getting breakfast in bed.”

[gurugirl]

A Good Boy | 4. A Mistake

Summary: Y/n goes to an event with Leo for Valentine's Day and Harry's upset. Hurt feelings lead to a messy fallout.

Note: This is stepmon!reader x stepson!harry - both are adults in this story but don't read if you don't like it.

Word Count: 12,565

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, inappropriate & forbidden relationship, age gap, cheating, lying, angst

A Good Boy Masterlist

“M’not ready to leave,” Harry’s words were muffled as he spoke with his face smushed into the soft part of Y/n’s inner thigh. “I can skip my first class. I can skip them all.”

She laughed. He was adorable with wild curls and flushed cheeks. She almost gave in. Told him to just stay with her all afternoon and she’d skip tennis practice. They could finish off all those strawberries they bought on Saturday at the farmer’s market. But she knew better. And so did he. Their weekend had been nothing short of spicy and fun.

“You can’t skip your classes, Harry. As much as I’d love to laze here with you all morning we can’t.”

He sighed and laid his chin over the top of her thigh as he looked up at her. He’d woken her up like that. Nuzzled in between her thighs and softly licking her awake. He refused to go harder or faster so his slow, lazy tongue up and down her labia drove her mad. She got everything wet as he continued gently eating her out. He wanted to be extra gentle with her because he’d fucked her extra hard the night before. At her request. He made her come and then he pounded into her, biting into his lip hard, breaking the skin as he thrust into her harshly, stretching her out with every brutal thrust. He was getting a little better at holding off his orgasm. Though, last night he did have to keep pulling out to catch his breath. She was sighing and moaning and slick for him. And when she finally did come she was shaking and mumbling so loudly Harry had to laugh but then was abruptly interrupted by his own orgasm.

And so in the morning, he went easy. Delicate strokes with his tongue slipping through her crease and over her clit. She did ask him to go faster, harder, anything. But he shook his head with his eyes on hers and just continued lapping up her sweet, slippery, arousal. He wanted to make it last as long as possible. Didn’t want to rush her to her orgasm. Didn’t want it to be over because that meant it would be time for him to leave.

“When can I see you again?” He asked as he kneaded the underpart of her thigh softly.

“I’ll think of something. We’ll make it work. “

.           .           .

Tennis practice was more difficult than Y/n imagined. Her whole weekend had been full of Harry, which meant a lot of sex. And that meant she was a little sore in some spots so she wasn’t quite on her game. But the reminder of why she was feeling sluggish only made her smile.

And if it hadn’t been for the lack of actual sleep perhaps her body would have been more willing to work harder during practice. But being next to Harry in bed was akin to sitting at a table with her favorite dish plated and made just for her. With no one around to tell her not to taste or dig in. It was impossible to resist.

So they’d wake in the middle of the night or during a nap and slip together until they were satisfied. Hours of sleep were lost for Y/n over the weekend but she wasn’t upset about it all.

She realized that just the thought of him made her heart skip a beat. The smile that worked its way over her features and the tingle of excitement and the thrill of happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time pulled her through the few following days she didn’t get to see her Harry.

The Valentine’s Day party was on a Friday but Y/n wanted to see Harry so badly she could taste it. It had only been three days since she’d seen him but three days had her longing for him in a way she hadn’t expected.

Harry was doing his best to keep his thoughts from entering into the depths of the truth of what they were doing. Tried not wondering if Y/n had slept with his dad since he’d returned from the Hamptons. Tried not imagining how pretty she’d look at a Valentine’s Day party and what might happen later that night. But sometimes the mind wasn’t kind. And Harry could not stop imagining that she was naked and doing things to his dad that she’d done to him.

And when she called him as he was in the middle of letting his thoughts spiral the burst of hope that filled his muscles and his veins made his dimples dig into his cheeks as he answered.

“I was thinking I could come over tonight. To you. Do you think I could be sneaked in?”

He hadn’t expected her to ask to see him. He was sure she was doing fine without seeing him. Figured that while he was plucking the worst images from his tortured mind, she was off shopping and laughing with her friends. He knew she wasn’t that shallow, of course. It’s just that his thoughts weren’t allowing him any grace.

“Yeah. Definitely. Should be easy.”

It was easy. Harry was on the first floor and he was lucky enough to have his own room. She was able to walk right in without anyone spotting her. Not that most of the guys there would even know who she was.

There was no time for talk the moment the door was closed behind Harry. He pulled at her t-shirt and wrapped her in his arms and captured her lips in his.

She dropped her little bag onto the floor and moved her arms up and over his shoulders as she let him kiss her like he hadn’t seen her in months. That’s kind of how it felt. She’d missed his sweetness and his eagerness. Missed him.

“Mmmm… Harry… baby...” She whispered as he moved his lips down to her neck. “I missed you. God I just needed to see you so bad.”

Harry moaned as he dragged his mouth over her skin and up to her jaw, “I just need you so bad.” He was shaking to have her in his arms and in his room.

When he brought his mouth back to hers his hips pressed against her and she moved her hand down to his sweatpants and dipped a finger under the elastic band to feel his happy trail under her nails. He whined into her mouth and she smiled.

She had wanted to give him a blow job so badly all day. Which was unusual for her. She didn’t mind giving blow jobs but with Harry, the way he’d moan and whimper and beg her… she just loved how responsive he was to her.

“Let me suck you off. I want you in my mouth.” It was all she could think about when she drove across the city to go to him.

Harry’s chest was on fire and his heart was ravaging his ribs as she pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees. She spit on his tip and took him down her throat and focused her eyes up to him.

“Fuck, Y/n. I’m gonna come so fast. I’m sorry…” he frowned as he whined his words and carded his fingers into her hair. She bobbed up and down, slippery and warm on his cock, sucking and using her tongue to circle and slither over his skin the way he loved.

She just needed to show him how she was feeling. How much she missed him. Harry was so much more vocal than she was about how he felt and how much he needed her when they spoke on the phone. She kept her feelings a little closer to her heart. Not revealing as much but giving him bits and pieces. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him too but she also wanted to do the right thing in guarding his heart.

Of course, doing the right thing, well, they were way past that, she reasoned as she dipped down over him further and tasted the precome pushing out through his slit. They were so far beyond doing the right thing it shouldn’t have mattered. But she did want to protect him in some way and by not revealing that she missed him just as much as he missed her she thought he might be able to deal with the distance better.

In truth, she had no idea what she was doing. She’d never done anything like it before. She just hoped that at the end of whatever they were doing, they’d both be okay.

Harry groaned as he rolled his hips gently into her, his pink lips dropped open watching her mouth stretch around him, drool dripping down her neck, her eyes blinking up at him.

“Please… oh my god…” Harry gasped when she brought her lips up and suckled his tip, her tongue swirling and lapping just under his frenulum.

He came so fast it was embarrassing. She always did it to him. Always had him shaking and giving in to her so quickly. He didn’t know how she did it. Not even fucking his own hand was as quick. He was convinced it was some kind of sorcery she used on him but he knew what it was. He knew that she just did it for him like no one else did. He’d watched porn with hot women but none came close to how hot he thought Y/n was. No girl he’d ever met and dated or did anything sexual with at all did it for him the way Y/n did it for him. Her voice and her eyes and her confidence. He’d never been in love but if he were to fall for someone, if he wasn’t already, it would be for her.

Harry choked out a moan and his knees buckled the slightest as he throbbed and pumped hot come down her throat. She slurped and sucked it all down with her hands holding onto his ass, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck!” He shouted when she pulled on his cock particularly hard to milk the last drop from him and then he laughed, his chest heaving.

A heavy knock cracked on his door, “All right in there Styles?” A male’s voice teased from behind the door.

Harry took a deep breath as Y/n pulled her lips off of his cock, “Fine. Thanks.” Harry shouted, not taking his eyes off his lover.

The pair lay in Harry’s full-sized bed with the radio on chatting about nothing. Harry had his arms wrapped around her middle with his head on her hip. He was like a big teddy bear that constantly wanted to be held and near to her. He just wanted to touch her and look at her. She loved how warm and touchy he was. Loved that he needed to physically be next to her when they were together.

“Tomorrow’s the party?” He hesitated to ask but couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah. Tomorrow. Got fitted for my dress earlier today. What did you do today, Harry?” It seemed like every time they were alone together and having a conversation they were lying and assembled jointly in one way or another with Harry squeezing her tight while she combed her fingers through his hair. It was maybe the best feeling she’d ever had with a lover. Ever. It was gentle and kind. Loving. Like there was no rush or reason to do anything other than to look at one another and be near to one another. Touching, smiling, kissing.

Harry had one class only and he finished an assignment due on Monday so he was ahead of schedule. The studious young man that he was.

“Hate that we can’t celebrate Valentine’s Day together,” Harry lifted himself to sit up, causing Y/n’s hands to fall away from his hair. His sudden change in demeanor had caught her off guard.

She pulled at his hand and sat up, “I know. I hate it too, Harry.”

“Do you hate it? Or are you just saying that so I feel better about all this?”

She squinted her eyes at him and shook her head, “What do you mean by that? Of course, I wish we could spend it together.”

Harry stood up from the bed and walked to his small kitchenette to grab a bottle of water, uncapping the lid and chugging a big gulp before turning and lifting the bottle, “Want some water?”

Y/n climbed off the bed and slowly walked toward Harry. Not understanding the mood change, “No. I’m okay right now. Thank you. But please continue with the previous thought. Explain what’s going on in your head.”

“I’m just…” he shook his head and sighed and walked past her to sit on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know. I know what this is. You and me. But feels like it’s just me who really wants more. Feels like, you’re doing just fine. You know?” He looked up at her as she followed him to where he was sat on the bed.

“No. I don’t know. You think I’m not just as excited to see you as you are me?” She stepped herself in between his legs and brushed her fingers over his forehead and into his hair. Perhaps she should start being more open with him about her feelings. But then again, that could make things even worse in the long run.

“No,” he laughed incredulously. “I don’t think you are. You don’t understand how I feel. How much I want you. And it’s not fair for me to feel this way because I knew all along what this was. But I can’t help it.”

Pausing her hand in his hair, she pulled her fingers out and nudged at his chin so he’d look up at her, “Where’s this coming from? You know how much I like you, Harry. You’re all I can think about.”

He searched her pretty face as she stood over him and shook his head, “You don’t understand how I feel. You don’t feel the same way I feel for you.”

She stepped away and rubbed her hands down her face. She couldn’t force him to believe her but she was sure she was feeling just the way he was. The intense longing she felt for him for the last three days told her as much.

“What do you want me to do, Harry? Should I leave, Leo? You and me, we can just run off into the sunset and never turn back? Will that prove to you how I feel?”

Harry stood up and paced from the kitchenette to his window and back, “You won’t though. I know it. You won’t leave my dad. You don’t have the balls to do that. You need his money and that big house and that huge ring you’re wearing…”

Y/n looked down at her wedding ring and felt a blanket of shame cover her body and pool around her feet as he continued.

“You wouldn’t do that because if you do that then you’ll be stuck with a boy. I can’t provide for you and buy you a nice car or take you on lavish vacations. I can’t compete with my dad on any level.”

Shaking her head as he spoke she was feeling insulted. A bit angry. But she knew he was speaking from a place of hurt.

“Harry…” she approached him and put her palms over his chest and looked up at him, “Stop. I’m here with you because my feelings for you are far greater than I can really even comprehend. You don’t need to compete with Leo or anyone. You’re better than anyone I’ve ever met. You can choose not to believe me but I’m here with you because I couldn’t be away from you a moment longer. I missed you. I needed you.”

He pulled his lips into his mouth as she spoke.

“Do you hear me? Harry I… I want to be so careful with you because you’re so special to me. I…” she sighed and looked up into his big green eyes, her hands traveling up his neck to keep his attention on her, “I want you. You’re better than your dad. To me, you are. I’ve missed being with someone I’ve felt this way for. As for your dad? I don’t feel this way. Harry, you are… god…” she started to tear up as she spoke. Unable to finish her thought as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight.

“I’m sorry I said those things. I’m just so jealous and I hate this. I don’t think you’re that way. I know you’re better than that. It was rude for me to say that.” He spoke into her hair.

He felt ridiculous. Harry could be emotional. He tended to allow his sensitive nature to get the best of him at times and this was one of them. He hated that he’d insulted her the way he did but it just fell out of his mouth before he could think. He wished he could take it back.

“I know, baby. I know you didn’t mean it. I know you know me better than that.”

Harry pushed his mouth to hers in haste. His emotions were too much to handle. He couldn’t talk anymore or he’d just get worked up again. He didn’t know how he was going to stay sane the following evening while Y/n was spending Valentine’s Day with another man.

His forceful kiss to her mouth was met with a pinch to her hips as he pushed her back into his bed. “Need you…” he breathed against her lips as he pulled her shirt off and she settled onto the bed and scooted back as he crawled after her, putting his fingers into the band of her shorts and pulling them down.

She wore the sweetest little lacy pink bra with a tiny bow at the center and matching panties that barely covered anything. When he caught sight of what she’d worn under her clothes he thought he could cry again. Had she done this for him?

In fact, she had. After getting fitted for her party dress she stopped at La Perla and picked out the little set. The bra didn’t give her much support but it wasn’t meant to be practical. It was meant to be sweet and pretty. She looked through the various shades and fabrics and tried on strappy pieces with black leather and soft white lace. She put on a bright red bra and thong set she wound up buying, but the pink lace with bows and delicate straps reminded her of Harry. How soft and intimate it looked. So pure and sheer but sexy. And when she put it on all she could think of was how it matched his lovely personality. His tenderness. The way he was so delicate with her and how big his heart was. It felt like what he’d pick for her if he were with her.

“Do you like it?” She smiled at him as he let his fingertips brush over the little bows at her hips and the lace along the edge and up her tummy to the bralette where her tits were spilling out the smallest bit.

“I fucking love it. Y/n,” he looked up at her with a pained face, brows scrunched, and shiny eyes. “You’re… so pretty. Prettiest woman I’ve ever seen and, god,” he pushed his thumb into the fabric that covered her breast and poked at her nipple, “More than just pretty. You’re phenomenal. In every way.”

She hadn’t expected him to give her this response. She knew he’d probably like it. Figured he’d give her some attention while she was wearing it and then he’d want it off but to see his eyes tear up was unexpected.

She cupped his cheek with her palm and spoke quietly, “I bought it for you. I’m really glad you like it.”

Harry let out a shaky breath as he caged her in, arms on either side of her waist, and then scooped her into his arms, holding her tight to him, “Fuck. You’ve got my head spinning, Y/n.”

She let him take the lead. He eventually pushed his boxers down and insisted she keep the set on while he made love to her. He said that. Love. She got hot and felt herself begin to get emotional at his words and his soft touches.

“Keep it on,” he put his hand over hers before she could push the pink fabric down her hips, “Want to make love to you while you’re in this. Show you how much I appreciate the gift.”

And show her his appreciation he did. He pulled the material to the side gently and licked at her until he was so hard it ached and he began whining, not able to handle not being inside of her any longer.

He slowly pushed her legs apart and dragged his nose and lips up from her hips to her tits and then to her neck before sneaking a hand down to keep the crotch to the side as he slowly pushed into her. Always loving and craving the initial plunge. The little muscle at her entry stretching wide open for him.

The bed in his room was squeaky. It wasn’t as sturdy as the one in his room at Leo’s house but with the way he was fucking into her slowly, long and deep strokes, there wasn’t too much of a racket. The slow bounce of the mattress springs was all that could really be heard over the radio. A few moans and soft gasps.

Harry went from watching her face as he bottomed out, stuffing himself into her as far as he could reach, to kissing her while slowly rolling his hips into her.

He could feel the lace on his shaft as he thrusted, and he enjoyed the way it irritated the smooth, velvety skin on his cock. He hoped it left a mark. One to match the mark she’d left on his heart.

“Harry…” she breathed his name as he looked deep into her eyes. It felt so intense this way with him. He was moving into her so slowly but pushing in so deep her toes curled every time his balls were tucked up to her bottom, “I need you…” she panted as she scratched her nails down his back.

He began to shake with the way his heart was pumping so hard. His mind was a blur and the wetness between them felt so warm and perfect that he didn’t think he’d ever be able to recover from the moment. She went to visit him. She wore something special just for him. She said she needed him.

And it was too much to verbalize exactly how he felt. He wasn’t quite in control of his thoughts in that moment as he kissed her mouth and plunged into her as she panted and licked her tongue against his. “Y/n… please stay with me,” his teeth were clenched as he spoke the words on accident. It was only meant to stay in his head, that statement. But it came out and he gasped when she lifted her legs to wrap around his back and pressed her heels into his ass to push him in deeper.

“I’m here with you all night, baby,” she spoke against his lip.

Harry moaned and pushed himself so he could look down at her, never ceasing his movements into her, “I mean stay with me. Be with me. Me and you,” he dipped down to kiss her again feeling the heat of ecstasy travel up his spine.

“I want to stay with you,” her words were breaths against his lips. It was the only way she knew how to respond. Because she couldn’t stay with him like he suggested and he knew that. But she could tell him that she wanted to.

The bed under her slowly gave way to their weight with Harry’s hips pressed against hers every time he bottomed out and it was giving her the perfect friction. His lips on hers and puffs of breath from his nose made her feel like she was encased in him. It was all she wanted.

“You feel so good, baby. I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come…” she whined as she felt him tremble and his hips began to roll a bit faster. She could feel that he was just as close as she was.

Harry lifted up again to look down at her, never ceasing the decadent roll of his hips, “Want to watch it. Want to see how you look when you come on my cock,” he whispered over her.

His eyes were dark with lust but the tip of his nose was red as if he’d just been crying. Perhaps he had been.

“Yes baby, yes… yes… yes…” his deep plunges through her insides and pushing her walls apart had her knocked upward over and over. He kept himself deep inside, never pulling back, only fucking into her so that his tip could get into her deep, so she could feel him inside of her tummy and pressing into all her parts, claiming them as his.

They rocked together, Harry’s thighs working himself into her slowly and deeply until her release finally snapped and she moaned loudly.

“Don’t look away, please, look at me,” Harry gasped as he felt her begin to spasm around him. She brought her gaze back to his and her orgasm exploded at the look on his face. He came the moment she looked back at him. Both of them forced themselves to keep their eyes open to watch as the other came from their connected bodies. Harry’s deep groans and raspy, breathy whines met with Y/n’s soft coos and choked moans. He was so deep inside of her, pressing himself even deeper as he poured into her, letting his come coat her insides in ownership. He wanted to make her his.

A sick and twisted little part of his brain hoped her implant wouldn’t work this time. That he could knock her up and she would have to leave Leo and then she’d be his and he could have her. Keep her.

“Fuck, baby…” she yelped when he gave her one last rough push. Wanting that little bit to just make a difference somehow.

Harry kept his eyes on hers and he watched her features relax and she smiled, bringing a hand up to his face, “You’re amazing, Harry. The best I’ve ever had.”

His grin was tranquil and flirtatious. She loved his cheek. His confidence. She also loved his softness and how sensitive he was. It was the best of both worlds and she never realized she’d need it so much in a lover.

“Yeah? I keep hearing you say that and I think I’m gonna start believing it soon.”

She laughed with her thumb at his temple, softly rubbing the skin next to his eyes, “You should just believe me when I say it. Take my word for it.”

It was true. She felt so connected to him. So deeply intertwined that she was positive there was no one better. No one who could make her feel like he did.

Y/n had told Leo she was with Gina. That she’d been at the spa with her and got waxed and ready for the party and had too many glasses of wine so she couldn’t drive home. That was her excuse as to why she couldn’t come home Thursday evening when she was spending it with his son.

And Harry didn’t have classes on Fridays so they slept in until nearly 10 am before Y/n realized she needed to go and actually get waxed otherwise Leo would realize she’d lied to him. And it was going to be a last-minute thing anywhere she could get in without an appointment so she knew she had to get going with the party starting at 5. She also still had to go pick up her dress after the final alterations were complete.

It was always the same, leaving him. He didn’t want her to go. She didn’t want to go. But it was necessary. And she left the sweet little pink set behind to keep in his room, “This is just for you to see. Not for anyone else. Okay?” She said when she put the fabric on his bed before kissing him goodbye and leaving.

.           .           .

Harry loved that Y/n came to visit him. It felt like they were a couple when they were alone together. He could see them being together. Imagined it all the time. But he knew the deal. She wasn’t his. Though, she did tell him some things that made him feel like she was at least, in part, his. But that didn’t change the reality.

He was spending Valentine’s Day by himself. He had a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle bourbon his dad got him for his birthday. He fully intended to treat the $300 bottle kindly. It was meant to be sipped slowly. Enjoyed for a special occasion. But when he thought of how Y/n was on his dad’s arm, probably at that very moment, accompanying him to a Valentine’s Day party, thought about how his dad didn’t care for her the way he did, didn’t cherish her and dream about her and stop himself in the middle of a mundane task to smile as his heart throbbed when he imagined her smile and her laugh. That his dad was fucking someone else who lived nearby and took her on a weekend away with him… How could any sane man want to be with anyone else once they had Y/n? Harry couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t fathom it.

“Fuck it,” he spoke to himself as he got up and crossed the room to pull the bottle out of the cabinet. He grabbed a glass and looked down at it before deciding he was going to just drink straight from the bottle. The highest form of disrespect for such a sought-after bourbon. A middle finger to his dad. And to the entire situation he was in really.

Placing the glass back in the cupboard he picked up the bottle at the neck and brought the 90-proof liquor with him to the small couch that sat across from his television.

Harry wasn’t much of a drinker. He’d had alcohol a good handful of times but usually at frat parties where it was provided for him. And he certainly never drank alone.

Peeling the foil off the cap and tossing it to the floor, he pulled the top and cork out of the bottle and placed it on the coffee table in front of himself.

He didn’t have anywhere to be the following morning so that was good, he figured. Better to have the morning open in case of a hangover. And he’d have all day Sunday to finish his homework.

And with that thought, he leaned forward to grab the bottle, brought the opening of the neck to his lips, and took his first pull of the evening.

.           .           .

Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.

The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.

Leo had scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.

“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”

She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?

That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.

But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.

Waiters walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.

Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).

“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.

She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.

The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.

“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”

Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.

“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.

“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”

Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.

“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”

“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”

Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.

“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”

The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”

 “Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”

Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”

Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”

She blinked her eyes and looked between the pair and cocked her head, “Oh. I’m sorry. I must be mistaken. I thought Leo said…” She shook her head not wanting to finish that sentence. It dawned on her that Leo had been with their daughter. Parker. Or, at least that’s what it was starting to look like. An interesting turn of events.

And it wasn’t much longer after that small discovery that Y/n spotted her husband. He was holding a glass of wine and speaking with a couple, laughing casually and acting as if he hadn’t been missing for nearly thirty minutes.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Y/n squeezed his arm as she took her place next to him.

Leo looked down at his wife and grinned, “Oh? I’ve been around. Here and there. I did go outside for a bit to get some air.”

Liar.

As cold and closed off as Leo could be, she knew when he wasn’t being forthright with her. But she wouldn’t call him out on any of it. How could she? She’d keep the information close to her chest. Something to hang onto for another day. She was curious about Parker, though. Not sure which of the two daughters she was. She’d only met one but never got the young lady’s name as there was another woman talking Y/n’s ear off. That daughter had been quite young, though. Harry’s age. Y/n knew the other daughter was closer to Y/n’s age.

Another three glasses of wine and a slow song with some lovey-dovey lyrics had Y/n feeling a bit sentimental. She was wishing Harry was there. Wishing she could catch his eyes from across the room. Wishing she could pull him into a corner and kiss his warm mouth and run her fingers through his curls.

It wasn’t as if the party was boring or anything. Well… okay. It was quite boring. It was just a bunch of rich people in a massive house worth millions drinking expensive wine, wearing expensive clothes, and pretending to care about what was going on around them.

Y/n watched as Leo’s eyes followed a pretty brunette with a slim nose and a long neck traipse across the room toward the bar for another glass of wine. The young woman looked to be Y/n’s age. Perhaps even a little older. She was very pretty. Her dress was flattering and she had a slim waist and curvy hips. This one- this one, Y/n thought, was more Leo’s taste.

Maybe it was the four glasses of wine or maybe it was just her natural penchant to be outspoken and assertive, but she decided to introduce herself to the woman. Find out her name. Look into her eyes and determine if this woman had actually been with her husband all weekend.

Y/n wasn’t necessarily jealous. She did feel a bit betrayed though. Her husband had lied to her in some way. She knew that much. Knew that he’d been talking to someone on the phone in hushed tones as Harry told her he’d overheard his dad. Knew that a woman had chirped excitedly next to him when he’d been on the phone with her while he was in the Hamptons and that Leo sounded like he was quickly trying to think of a reason why there’d be a woman there when he mentioned the Valentine’s Day party.

Rebecca was a great cover. She was in her 50s and he thought that once Y/n laid eyes on her all her questions would be quashed and she’d forget all about it. But he hadn’t anticipated Y/n to open her mouth and mention the Hamptons to Mrs. Manera.

“Hi,” Y/n sidled up to the brunette, “I’m Y/n Styles. I don’t think we’ve met yet.” She motioned to the bartender for another glass of wine. Probably a bad idea. She would certainly feel five glasses in the morning.

The young woman gave herself away immediately as her eyes widened and she opened her mouth for a moment, searching the room quickly before returning her sights to Y/n, “Uh… oh, hi! I’m Parker Manera, Phin and Rebecca’s daughter.”

Y/n watched her nervously sit her glass down and wipe her hands down her expensive dress and then pick her glass up again before shifting on her feet with a forced smile on her face.

“Oh! You’re Parker. Your mom and dad were just telling me about how you were in the Hamptons all weekend. It’s such a small world,” she laughed lightly and placed her free hand at her hip in a show of confidence, “My husband Leo was there last weekend too. What a funny coincidence.” She smiled widely as she kept her eyes on Parker’s.

The poor thing swallowed harshly and looked down at her glass before letting her eyes dart around the room again, most likely in search of Leo, “Oh. Yeah. Uh… huh…” She took a sip of her wine and then looked at Y/n, “Yeah, that is a coincidence.”

.      ��    .           .

Harry was trying to pay attention to his best friend as he gave him a pep talk. But it was useless. He couldn’t ever understand what Harry was going through and he had no idea that he’d been sleeping with his stepmom.

“Don’t worry man. Not every Valentine’s Day is going to be spent alone like this. You’re still young, dude!” Tyler said, trying to cheer him up. Only Tyler didn’t realize what Harry’s real issue was. He just thought Harry was depressed because he was still single and a virgin.

Harry had called Tyler and asked him to come over to share the bottle of bourbon with him. He realized early on that he would not be able to drink the whole bottle alone, nor did he want to.

“I know. Just feels shitty. You know my dad and Y/n are at a party tonight. With a bunch of other assholes probably. Sounds so boring. Would hate to spend a romantic day out with rich assholes.” Harry was only on his third glass of whisky but the stuff was strong and he was feeling the alcohol burning in his gut and winding through his veins, impairing his thoughts and his emotions.

Tyler laughed, “Yeah, but after their boring night out they can go home and shag. Unless your dad’s too old for that,” Tyler joked before taking a healthy swig and looking at the TV that was on as background noise.

Harry frowned and felt himself nearly gag at the thought. That was exactly the kind of thing he was trying not to think about, “What’s wrong with you? You’re a dick sometimes you know that?”

“Sorry. You probably don’t want to think about your dad fucking your hot stepmom do you?” He teased.

Only it wasn’t funny to Harry. Not at all. He was spiraling and he’d called his friend as a distraction yet here they were discussing a topic that was a punch to the gut and had Harry surging with jealousy and hurt.

“Shut the fuck up, man. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry barked and stood up from the couch to pace his room, “I fucking hate this!” He ran his hands into his hair and felt his anger peak.

“Whoa. Okay. Sorry dude. Wasn’t trying to get you upset. It was a joke.”

“Yeah? But it’s not a joke. That’s what’s gonna happen. She’s gonna go back home with my prick of a dad and fuck him. Because it’s Valentine’s Day. And that’s what couples do on Valentine’s Day.”

Tyler looked at Harry in confusion as Harry pulled at his roots and sniffed, his nose red and his eyes bloodshot, “She’s fucking him and she’s not even… Goddamnit!”

“What’s going on Harry? Are you okay?” His friend stood up, suddenly aware that Harry was not doing well at all.

“No. I’m not fucking okay,” he sighed and shook his head before looking at his friend, “I’ve… you can’t say anything to anyone, okay?” He continued pacing.

Tyler nodded, still standing up, not moving from his spot, “Of course. You know any secret you have is safe with me.”

Harry stopped his restless motions and dropped his arms by his side, “Y/n and I… we’ve been seeing each other,” he looked down before he could watch Tyler’s expression. “We’ve been sleeping together.”

Tyler’s silence indicated his shock. He had not been expecting to hear that from Harry. All the times they’d teased him about getting with her they were just kidding. No one ever thought that it would actually happen.

Harry resumed his confession, “And it’s been really good. We like each other too. My dad’s a dick. He’s sleeping with another woman. Which is allowed, but… nah… that’s a long story. I’m,” Harry looked directly back at his friend and approached the couch before plopping down heavily over the cushions, “fucking sad. I’m a mess over it.”

Tyler sat down next to his friend and nodded, “So you and Y/n. And that means you’re not a virgin? She’s the one that…” his words faded out, letting the context fill in the blanks.

Harry nodded, “Yeah.”

“Well, fuck man. I’m sorry. Here,” Tyler leaned forward and grasped the bottle, handing it to Harry, “sounds like you need some more of this.”

.           .           .

Y/n wasn’t mad. Not at all. Nor jealous. But she would keep this information tucked away for a rainy day perhaps. Or maybe it would never be brought up. It did, however, make her feel a bit less guilty for her own insolence.

And she wondered what he had been up to when he disappeared. She imagined that he’d been with Parker. Doing what exactly? Well, she had some ideas about the nature of what they were doing. In fact, part of her did hope maybe he’d gotten his needs taken care of. Hoped that he wouldn’t want anything from her that evening because she was completely satisfied with how well she’d been treated just that very morning by Harry.

That was only going to get trickier as time went on. The more time she spent with Harry, the less she wanted to spend any time with Leo. And she was still irked at him for the comment he made to her before they left for the party. She planned to use that as an excuse for not having sex with him if he tried to initiate. But excuses would dwindle eventually. She couldn’t keep pushing off sex with her husband.

She and Leo said their goodbyes as everyone began to leave the party as normal. Most people were grabbing their jackets and purses and Y/n was shaking Phineas' hand when Leo leaned into Y/n and spoke quietly, “I’ll be right back, dear. Wait for me in the car.”

Fifteen minutes. She waited for 15 minutes for her husband and she knew what he was up to. Or at least in part. And that­­­­­– that did piss her off. The disrespect of it. She shot off a quick text to Harry wishing she was with him. Wishing she could just drive her husband’s car to Harry’s dorm and stay with him for the night. Finish off her Valentine’s Day properly.

Are you awake still?

It was almost midnight and a Friday night so she assumed he would be awake but by the time Leo made it to the car, Harry still hadn’t seen the text yet.

“What were you doing, Leo?” Y/n looked at his side profile as he began to drive down the long driveway to the gate to exit.

“I had to use the bathroom,” he placed his palm over his stomach and blew out a big, dramatic breath. “Think I ate too many crab cakes.”

Another lie. But also something to bring up should he want anything intimate from her tonight. A stomachache was an automatic no for sex.

“Let me drive, then. If you’re not feeling well that could be dangerous.” She didn’t mind playing dumb.

“Oh, it’s okay. I took some Pepto Rebecca offered me and I think I’ll be okay.”

“Okay. Good. That was nice of her. She was lovely to chat with. I really enjoyed the party. Phineas is also a hoot,” she exaggerated with a smiley tone. “Oh, and their daughters!” Y/n turned to watch his face as she continued, “What’s the younger one’s name again?”

“I think it’s Iris. No, Ivy. I think Ivy.” He answered as he nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.

“And then their older daughter, Piper. She was–“

“Parker.” Leo interrupted.

He took the bait and he didn’t even know it.

“What?” Y/n acted confused.

“Her name is Parker. You said Piper. I was just correcting you.”

Y/n smiled to herself, “Oh. I really thought she told me Piper. But I guess you’d know better than me.”

Leo’s body language did not change whatsoever. He was cool as a cucumber but man was he dumb. He didn’t have to act differently for her to know he was lying straight to her face. No, his answers gave him away.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Parker was really sweet. Talked about what we did last weekend. I told her all about the girls and how we go out for girl’s night every other Friday. Even invited her to come to our next one.” She lied.

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, “Why’d you do that?” He turned to glance at her before looking back to the road.

Y/n couldn’t stop smiling. She was just having a bit of fun. It was also most definitely the five glasses of wine she’d had, “Because I like her! She’s my age and I feel like we have a lot in common. Oh! And it’s so funny, Leo. You won’t believe this! She was also in the Hamptons last weekend! And it’s wild that she had no idea that her mom was there when I told her that you saw Rebecca while you were there,” she shook her head dramatically and laughed. “Crazy.”

His jaw clenched but he remained quiet. Perhaps she’d taken it a bit too far. Now maybe she’d just given away that she knew something. But she just shrugged and turned to look out the window. She couldn’t wait for her bed. She just hoped that Harry would give her a goodnight text before she went to sleep like he usually did.

But he didn’t. She showered and plugged her phone in and checked her messages and still nothing.

Y/n was thankful Leo didn’t seem interested in having sex. She silently thanked Parker for a job well done as her head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

Sensing light through her eyelids, she slowly blinked her eyes open. It took a moment to climb out of her wine-induced groggy haze but when she realized it was her cellphone she quickly rolled to her side to reach for it.

“Hello?” She spoke quietly and sat up against her pillows.

“Sound so pretty,” Harry’s words were watery and disconnected. “You with my dad?”

Y/n knew right away he was drunk. She grinned and shook her head as she responded, “No. I’m in my room. Where are you?” She was just happy to hear his voice, despite him being inebriated.

“My room. Tyler’s passed out. Drank some whisky so I didn’t have to think about you and my dad fucking. Didn’t work.”

The grin fell from her face, “What? Harry, we didn’t. But–“

“Bet you did. Probably trying to just make me feel good,” his speech was difficult to understand as his tongue seemed to be getting in the way, but she could clearly interpret his bitter tone.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“So you can go back to having sex with another man?”

“Stop it, Harry. I was asleep just now. In my own room. We can talk in the morning when you’ve sobered up.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke into the receiver.

As much wine as she’d had at the party, Harry had clearly had a lot more alcohol in his system.

“F’course. Would hate to disturb you. Just a nuisance to you anyway…” his volume dropped as his words trailed off.

“You’re not a nuisance to me. It’s why I answered. Was excited to hear your voice. Now, go to sleep, Harry. Okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He actually probably would not feel better in the morning if his current state was any indicator.

The phone was silent but she could still hear him rustling around, sniffing, “Harry?”

“Y/n.” He said mockingly.

“Are you okay?” She knew she should probably just hang up but didn’t want to make things worse.

“No. I’m not.”

“I think you worry too much. You should go to sleep, baby.”

“Mmm… Sounds so nice. But I think it’s not fair is it?”

Y/n sighed and held her phone out to see what time it was before putting the receiver back to her ear, “What’s not fair?”

“You can fuck other people. You do too. You’re fucking my dad. I should go be able to fuck other people too if I want. Tyler told me I should.”

Y/n gulped down the upset and tried to keep herself level. He was drunk and not thinking straight. And the comment about Tyler had her wondering if his friend knew about their affair.

“Let’s discuss it when you’re feeling better tomorrow. You’re drunk, Harry. I don’t think this conversation will go anywhere good if we keep talking while you’re so upset.”

“Should have known. Yeah. We’ll see.”

Y/n opened her mouth to respond but he’d hung up. She heard the click and then the silence of her room enveloped her completely as her phone went dark with the ended call.

It was nearly 3:30 in the morning and lying back into her bed and closing her eyes did not bring sleep like she hoped. Instead, her mind went into overdrive considering all the things Harry had said.

And he was right. He should be allowed to do as he pleased. To sleep with others. He should. It would be healthier for him. For her. What they were doing was a mistake. It wasn’t going to end well and Harry’s words rang in her head for hours.

She hated the idea of him sleeping with anyone else but that was not fair. How could she expect him to only sleep with her when she was married to his father and sleeping with him? Though she hadn’t slept with Leo since before she and Harry started their affair. Still. At some point, Leo would expect something and she’d need to give him something.

So, instead of sleeping, she wound up writing in her journal with a mug of Ceylon, hot ginger, and lemon tea. She wrote down her feelings and the things she’d tell Harry. The things that needed to be said.

They couldn’t continue on as they were. They were both going to get hurt and she didn’t want to imagine hurting Harry more than he was. She could tell this was hurting him. When she’d seen him Thursday night he expressed some hurt feelings.

And as hard as it would be, she had to break it off. Had to end their affair because they would both only get more attached. The sooner the better.

He’d hate it. He’d fight her on it, she just knew it. He’d plead with her. He’d say something that would make her waver. Make her want to just give in and let him have his way. But it wasn’t healthy. It was a relationship that could never be revealed. His father couldn’t know. And the thought of leaving her current situation to be with Harry felt ridiculous.

Yes. It was ridiculous. Because she was 27 and he had just turned 21. And he was her stepson. Ridiculous to consider leaving Leo because then what? Harry might not even feel the same way for her in six months. A year. Five years. And she’d be back to square one because leaving Leo meant leaving everything he’d given her behind. Of course, there was a prenup involved in their marriage. That had been the plan all along. She knew going into it that this was how it would be. Should they ever divorce, she gets nothing really. As it should be, she surmised. She wasn’t entitled to anything from Leo if the arrangement was called off. She would have nothing.

She had no career. No money of her own. Very few things she’d bought herself.

Her mother would just say I told you so. Which would be well deserved.

So to stop their little thing as soon as possible was better than waiting until it all blew up in their faces. She hated the thought of not being able to kiss him or chat with him about personal and private things only a lover should know. She’d miss his flirtatious banter and the little pinches he gave her skin when he wanted her attention. It would be hard to wake up every morning knowing she’d never have someone warm and kind to wake up with. His scent. His eyes. His hair. His fingers. His voice.

She scribbled her thoughts and a tear fell onto the page she was pouring her thoughts into.

She didn’t want to do it. She wanted to keep him and have him to herself. Enjoy the secret, private relationship that had maybe been the best she’d ever had. But that was the part that needed to come to an end. Their secret affair would be exposed or Harry would get hurt (and so would she). He was already hurting. It was already hard and they hadn’t been at it for that long. She imagined the longer they continued the worse it would be for Harry. His soft heart would continue to break in front of her and their whole relationship would be based around the sadness and the turmoil and the secrets. It was healthy for no one.

When the pale light from the sun began to stretch into her room she put her journal down and texted Marla. It was early. Maybe a bit too early, even for Marla.

But she needed someone to talk to. Someone to help her straighten out her mind. She was feeling selfish, angry, hurt, and most of all, her heart was being squeezed with a vice in her chest and it was hard to breathe. Hard to think straight.

When you wake up will you please call me?

Her tea was barely touched. It had gone cold and because she forgot to pull the bag out it had also turned bitter. She winced at the taste and placed the mug down on her side table. That seemed to be an appropriate illustration of how her life was going at the moment. She hadn’t taken care to make sure the tea was tasty and done correctly and now it couldn’t be salvaged. A perfectly fine cup of tea to waste.

Y/n felt her phone vibrate and she plucked it up quickly to answer. It was Marla.

“Morning. Thank you for calling me.”

“Of course. Everything okay?”

Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, not wanting to begin crying again, “Not really. Went to a party with Leo last night. Learned he’s been seeing another woman my age, though the issue is that he brought her to the Hamptons last weekend and lied to me about it. Told me the girl’s mother was there with him. And it was just a weird night. So, there’s that. But then Harry called me in the middle of the night, completely wasted,” she went on with the story and what was said, barely taking a breath to pause as Marla listened closely.

“So, I need to just end it with him. Before he really gets hurt. Before I can’t let him go. Because that’s for the best. But now I’m also worried about this Parker girl. If Leo’s been seeing her frequently and taking her on vacations with him then I don’t know what that means for me either. What if I break up with Harry and then Leo wants a divorce because he’s fallen in love with Parker? I don’t care that he’s with her. But my concerns about it are mostly just selfish. I don’t know what to do. I honestly feel like the worst person in the world. I’m selfish and I’m in the middle of this strange affair. I know I need to break it off.”

Marla had listened quietly and hummed affirmatively throughout. She hadn’t realized the depth of feelings involved until then.

“I feel like it might be better if you do break up with Harry. That makes the most sense. He’s so young and you are technically married to his father so even though you can sleep with another man, you’ve picked the wrong one.”

“I know. I’ve never made such an epic mistake in all my life. It’s a mistake, what I’ve done. Isn’t it?”

“I think so. Yeah. You can’t help how you feel. I understand why you are doing it. Why you like Harry so much, but… if you can never be with him openly then that probably makes this a mistake. Will you see him today?”

“I’m going to go see him. Yes. I hate this so much. Can I come see you after? I’m gonna need someone to talk to and cry to a bit. I don’t want Leo wondering what’s wrong with me. Not that he’d care much.”

.           .           .

Her text to Harry went unanswered. She imagined he might still be sleeping. Hungover from the night before. Hell, she was even hungover from the night before but five glasses of wine at 27 will do that to you.

She chewed the skin at the edge of her thumb as she walked around her neighborhood in the hills. She couldn’t stay in the house with Leo looming because she would frequently begin to burst into tears out of nowhere and she couldn’t have him seeing that.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and nerves were making her skin crawl the longer she waited to hear back. She couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t just ignoring her altogether. And to drive all the way to his campus on a Saturday at noon would be an hour's drive.

But maybe that’s what she needed. Maybe a long drive and some loud music with her windows rolled down would be better than walking along the winding streets of her neighborhood and waiting for him to respond. Yes. That’s what she’d do. She’d go to him. She needed to. This needed to end. Only then could they both move on and begin to heal.

.           .           .

Harry did see the text come in from Y/n. Sort of. He opened up a singular eye and squinted to read the message but the words were fuzzy and his headache was killer. He couldn’t move. Lifting the phone to look at the text was a feat in and of itself and that had been all for nothing because he couldn’t even make out the words on his screen. He knew it was from Y/n but when he closed his eye he drifted off into a dreamless sleep once again. Tyler never budged from his spot on the couch.

But when there was a knock at his door and his phone was ringing right next to his head he was forced to sit upright and take in his surroundings. His head was still pounding but the nausea from the night before had mostly passed. Mostly.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy and dry and pained.

“Harry. It’s me. I’m at your door.”

It took a minute for everything to fall into place. He stood up and slowly made his way to his door and when he opened up, even though he knew Y/n said she was there, somehow it still took him by surprise.

He silently greeted her and gestured for her to enter.

His TV was on but the sound was muted. Tyler was draped over the small couch with his mouth gaped wide open in a dead sleep. A bottle of liquor, empty on the small table in front of the couch was the final clue as to what had gone on the night before.

She could tell Harry had just woken up. That at least made her feel a bit better. He wasn’t purposely ignoring her.  

“I’m sorry I showed up like this,” she spoke quietly, not wanting to wake Tyler up. Especially because it would look suspicious to him to see Y/n there. Though she assumed he knew based on Harry’s comments about Tyler when he called her in the middle of the night.

She was so pretty but she looked so sad. Harry could tell, even with a killer headache and a queasy stomach that she was pensive.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about that call last night. Got very drunk. And wound up telling him about us,” Harry looked over his shoulder at Tyler then back at you. “So… I’m sorry about that too.”

Y/n watched as Harry got himself a glass of water and chug it before waking Tyler up and asking him to go back to his room.

Tyler eventually got up and greeted Y/n politely, “Morning. Uh, sorry. I just need to run to the bathroom and then I’ll be out of here.”

It was awkward. Sitting on Harry’s bed while she watched his best friend drag himself to the bathroom. Knowing he knew about them. She wondered what Harry had told him exactly. And now she imagined he’d be calling Tyler after she left to tell him what had happened and how she’d broken his heart. Not dissimilar to what she’d be doing with Marla.

Harry stood awkwardly against the foot of his bed with his head turned to look at Y/n, “I am sorry you know. I can tell you’re upset. Is that why you’re here?”

He did feel bad. He’d been way out of line. Wildly jealous. Drunk.

“In part,” she looked up at him. His eyes were bloodshot but he was still so handsome. If she weren’t there at that moment to break up with him she’d stand up and pull him in for a kiss. She wanted to. “But I wanted to talk to you about something else too.”

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy curls, “Y/n,” his green eyes looked so bright and tired. The next words he spoke in a quiet whisper, “Please don’t.” She almost didn’t hear him. Almost. But she did and the moment he said it her heart dropped into her stomach. This was going to kill her.

Tyler opened the door and said goodbye quickly but Harry didn’t take his eyes off Y/n’s. He knew what she was doing. Why she’d come. He could just feel it. Tell by the way she was looking at him.

“Is that why you’re here, Y/n? To break up with me?”

Y/n patted the spot on the mattress next to her, “Come sit with me. Please.”

“Damnit!” Harry walked toward his kitchenette and leaned over the small formica countertop with his back to her, “I fucked up. I am not good at this. I’m too emotional.”

Y/n had broken up with a fair amount of guys in her life. Some were easier than others. A few times she was on the receiving end of the breakup. It was never easy.

But this one felt a lot heavier. It felt like ripping out a page from a beautifully half-drawn masterpiece before it was ready to see the light of day. Torn in half and tossed into the trash and wasted all without having had the chance to be completed and filled in with color and then framed and hung. It could have been beautiful.

She got up from the bed and walked across his room to stand behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, smushing her cheek into his back all in silence.

Harry’s breaths were heavy and his t-shirt-covered back was warm against her skin. He brought his hands up over hers and hung his head.

“Harry,” she whispered and squeezed him tight, “I don’t want to do this but–“

“Then don’t,” Harry turned around to face her and took her hands into his, “Then don’t, Y/n.”

Shaking her head she blinked away her tears and tried to focus on her task. It had to be done. It was better for him in the end. And she only wanted what was best for him.

“This can’t go on. We’ll only get hurt. It’s already hurting.”

Shiny tears filled in Harry’s eyes and when he finally blinked they fell down his cheeks and to his chin, “Do you not-“ He shook his head and looked down for a moment as he sniffed to compose himself. Looking back into her eyes his thumbs softly caressed her thumbs, “You don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“It’s not that,” she shook her head, “It’s because I think this guilt and pain will just get worse. You’ve been so upset and unhappy. I don’t want to see you sad.”

“This is making me sad, Y/n. If you’re trying to do something to protect me, then don’t. I can handle it. I know the deal.”

She closed her eyes and lifted his hand up to her mouth to kiss his knuckles, “I know. But it’ll be easier if we do it now. The longer this goes on, the worse it’ll be. We’ll both wind up hating each other. It’ll be messier than it already is. You don’t want to be some secret forever do you?” She looked up at him.

“I would if it meant being with you. Whatever that means. Whatever it takes.”

“You don’t mean that. I don’t think you understand how awful it would be.”

“I haven’t been given the chance. I can get used to it. I’ll be better.”

Y/n dropped his hands and brought her arms up, cupping his face with her palms, “You’re so young. You’ll get over me. You’ll find someone you can be happy with openly and fall in love and have all those things you deserve.”

Harry’s mouth was slightly open as he drew in breaths of air (unable to breathe through his nose as he was crying). He put his large hands over hers and shook his head, “And what about you? Don’t you deserve love and someone who will be only yours? My dad can’t give you that. I can.”

“I agreed to the arrangement with your dad, Harry. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. My only concern is you. You are the one that deserves to have all those wonderful. Not me.”

“No. You’re wrong. You deserve it too. I want to be the one to give that to you.”

She tried to stop her sinuses from tingling and the tears from forming but she couldn’t. Her lips quivered as she tried to respond but her words were swallowed in her throat when she sucked in a sharp breath of grief.

She was helpless to her natural emotions as she felt her cheeks wet. She wanted to be strong and confident when she broke up with him so he’d see she meant it but her position crumbled with his delicate temper. He was too tender and lovely for her to keep up a cold façade.

“Please, Harry. Don’t make this harder. We can’t see each other anymore like this. I will miss you but this can’t go on.” She brought her hands down from his face, causing his hands to fall away.

“Who’s going to show you affection and give you intimacy then, Y/n? You can’t go about life without out. I can see how much you need it. You need me.” He sniffed as more tears fell.

“Harry…” she shook her head and backed away as she wiped her face.

But he grasped her wrist, not letting her get too far, “Don’t. Please, Y/n. You’re gonna break my heart.”

Y/n looked down at her wrist and back to Harry’s soulful gaze, “You’ll be okay. You’ll find someone better.”

He let go of her wrist and let out an incredulous laugh, “The fuck I will.”

He pushed himself off the small counter and walked to his window to look outside. His attitude had changed. Now he was clearly frustrated. Angry.

“You will,” she followed behind him but kept a small distance, “I promise.”

“So you’ll just be fucking whoever comes along that you like instead of me since my dad isn’t offering love to you. Is that what you wanted? Just company. No attachment? No love?”

That’s what she thought she wanted. Before she met Harry. In fact, she thought she’d be okay with just having Leo from time to time to fill in the physical parts of intimacy. The rest she could get from her friends.

But it all changed with Harry. Which is why she needed to stop it before it was too much. Before she was completely in love and had him ruined as well.

“I will be okay, Harry. I’m doing this because I want you to have everything you deserve.”

“Fuck that.” Harry turned to look at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want. You don’t want me? Fine. We’ll go back to how it was before. Except less friendly, I think, because I’m not sure I can handle being too friendly with you. If that’s what you want. Fine. I want you to have whatever your heart desires too, Y/n. And if that’s not me then I can’t change your mind.”

“Harry… that’s not how it is–“

“That’s exactly how it is. You’re here to break up with me. So we’ll break up. Despite how amazing we are together. We’ll just call it quits. Give up before we can really see what happens. Before we really even got going.”

“It’s because this was a mistake, Harry. This should have never happened, you and me. It’s only caused deep hurt and it will only grow worse if we continue.”

Harry nodded and looked up toward his ceiling to pull the tears back into his eyes, not wanting to let any more drop down over his cheeks, “You’re right.” He looked back at her and she could see a bit of anger rise in his demeanor, “This was a mistake.”

5. When In Greece

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[mandatory-blog-stop-asking]

I guess since I always write about X-Men when drunk, let me talk to you about Scott Summers.

Now look, Scott has a lot of haters, many of them my friends. I even agree with them. There's no easy way to take in Scott Summers. Because more than anything, Scott Summers is a question.

What do you do when they take it from you?

The answer can be many things. If you're Xavier, the answer is, you deny people their childhood. Scott, you're a child soldier by 13. You have just survived a traumatic plane crash in which your family seemingly all died. If you look at people, they die too, and it's your fault. You wear a literal filter to interact with everyone. Sometimes they tell you they're mad and you don't understand. The filter isn't thick enough. Xavier pats your head and tells you this is how it is. You have to be better. You have to be better than them. You have to be better than everybody.

If you're Magneto, the answer is your life. He had everything taken away from him so thoroughly, so long ago, that you, Scott, can't even fathom it. He's introduced to you while stealing nuclear warheads to threaten people who hate you. Every word Xavier has ever told you stings in your brain, like a worm. This is wrong. This is the enemy. He's doing it wrong. He's getting a bad grade at being a mutant. These feelings will poke at you for the rest of your life. You will come to disagree with them. By the time you're 40, you couldn't imagine a more steadfast ally than Magneto. He gets it, you see. No one else gets it like Max does.

If you're Jean Grey, the answer is fire. Create fire. Look for fire. Date a guy who can shoot fire from his eyes. Who can spit fire from his mouth and raise the dead with his words. Who can stand before the apocalypse and burn, burn as hard as fire can burn, as hot as a volcano, enough that the police are involved, that the Avengers are involved, that the gods are involved. Burn and burn and turn to ash and burn further until they stop telling you you're worthless. They never will. But Scott will never be one of them. He would rather burn everlasting than tell you you're less than what you think you are.

If you're Emma, it's kill them from the inside. Become part of the problem to make the problem go away. Meet the problem in their house. Fuck the problem. Buy the problem. Kill the problem by giving them a stroke. Emma thinks you, Scott, could be so much more. You could end the problem in a day, two days tops. You could rally them and radicalize them and make them see how insidious the problem is. But you never would. You tried, and it didn't agree to you. It got weird. You got weird.

If you're Logan, the answer is drinking. You drink and you try to forget, but you never do. You can't. You hang out with this guy, this beautiful, certain, consistent man, and you can't forget what you've lost, but you can make new memories. You can be someone else. You can put on a robe and lay down on a lazy chair and drink near Scott, overlooking the Earth, and you can think, I never want to forget this. I never want to not be here, with Scott, looking over everything. Feeling like I do, doing the things I do, having the relationship I do with him. But eventually it all goes away again, and you remember, right, I'm a violent person, I'm made for battle, I don't deserve love, I don't deserve Scott, I don't deserve anything. I deserve the woods. The wolves. The simplicity. The desire to forget, but never quite getting there. If you're Logan, you don't actually have an answer. Your whole life is a question without an answer.

And then you're Scott. You wonder what you should do when they take it from you. You're surrounded by people radicalized by their choices on how to react to that. You're radicalized by your mistakes. You're radicalized by the fights, the torture, the betrayal, the time in space, the time in hell, the time suffering. Every year of your life was the worst year of your life. Everything you've ever done is a thing to be mocked and used as a standard at the same time. No one knows who you are aside from the guy to listen to. You're 40. You're a father. You're tired. Your first instinct upon being given everything was gathering your family and moving; to the moon, even, where no one could hurt you. And then they took that away from you, too.

So, what do you do?

There's only really one answer.

You sigh, you put on the suit, you do some voice training, you call some friends. You do a speech. You suppress the feeling that it's futile, because that feeling is the oppressor, too. And you say it, like you've said it a thousand times, like you'll say it a thousand times more, like you were made to say, like you were taught to say, like your entire legacy will revolve around how you say this single phrase.

You will say this from your chest. You will say this when no one else is around and no one else is listening. You will say it because it's the right thing to say, and god damn it, at the end of the day, you will never acquiesce. You will never compromise. You will, in fact, always say it, for the rest of your life and beyond. When you're dead and buried and not coming back on the regular, people will still talk about how right you were when you said it, how righteous you sounded when you said it, and how certain you were when you said it.

You say it when they're attacking, you say it when you're attacking, you say it as a defense, you say it as a response, you say it as every figure of importance in your life has given way to compromise or disappointment; as everyone has left you, and has moved on, and has decided oppression doesn't equal a life poorly lived, and has asked you to lose their number because they can't do this anymore, it has taken too much from them and they don't want this to be their lives.

You say you understand, you lose their number, you stop relying on them, and you start saying it to others. Sometimes to people who are too young, but they get it. This is the only appropriate reaction, after all. You were Scott and you were 13 years old when you were a soldier. They can do that, too.

What do you do when they take everything away from you?

Scott Summers sighs and fills his chest with air.

When they take it all from you, Cyclops says "To me, my X-Men."

[ryker-writes]

Small moments with them (Diasomnia and Staff)

It's going on walks with Malleus. It's a simple thing really, but it always means so much to him. He rarely gets time alone since he usually has guards, but at night he can sneak out and be without them. He loves spending this time with you. You two were walking around the campus as usual. The usually busy and chaotic campus was quiet and peaceful. A nice change really. Malleus was smiling as you described your recent adventures with friends. He loved hearing everything you had to say, and was even more interested to hear about all the things you do and the trials you face. He laughs when you explain something stupid Ace did at the Mostro Lounge. But then you stepped walking and he grew concerned. Should he not have laughed? Are you upset with him? He must apologize and fix his mistake. But then you smiled and said he should come along next time. He was instantly filled with joy upon hearing your invitation. Of course, he agreed and you two continued your story telling and walk.

It's styling hair with Lilia. He cuts and dyes his own hair, so he knows how to style hair. If you let him style your hair he will do it anyway you like. It's even more fun if you decide to dye it. He won't force it though. One thing he really loves though, is to let you do his hair. You sat behind him pondering what to do. He was patiently waiting on the ground in front of you. Lilia told you that you could do anything you wanted to his hair. His hair is pretty short so any ponytail would be small, but it would've been cool to see the black mix with the pink. Then you got an idea. The hair near the front of his face was probably long enough to do a very small braid. Politely, you asked him to turn to the side and he obeyed. The braid ended up very small, but it looked good. The pink and black looked really cool tied together. Once you said you were done, Lilia looked into a small mirror to check your work. He laughed but admired the braid, and promised to keep his hair like that for the rest of the day. He did, but Malleus and Sebek were confused.

It's taking naps with Silver. He's a well trained knight even if he falls asleep a lot. If there was any real danger he would be awake immediately. Basically, if Silver is sleeping, then you're safe. He fell asleep next to you out in the open grass. Even though other students would walk by, you knew you were safe with him here. You're laying next to him with his head resting on your hand. It's incredibly peaceful. So peaceful, that just being here in the warm sun with him was enough to make you fall asleep too.

It's talking about Malleus with Sebek. It doesn't take much to get him talking about Malleus. It's hard to have a conversation with him without him bringing up the fae prince. But Sebek is so used to people being annoyed by his talk about Malleus. So he's extremely surprised when you ask him to tell you about Malleus. Not because you don't know him, but because you want to hear Sebek's thoughts. He will sit you down, get you a drink, and make sure you're comfortable for the long conversation. A conversation which is mostly one sided. He tells you about all of Malleus' great achievements. You get to chime in every once in a while to praise Malleus or mention something else about him to keep the conversation moving. For some people it can be exhausting to hear him talk on about someone else for hours. But Sebek is so passionate when he speaks and his devotion to Malleus really is admirable. Really Sebek is happy that you're even willing to listen to him.

It's being nice to Crowley. Anything nice really. He doesn't get a lot of positivity sent his way as headmage, so to hear something positive from you is really something. Most students think of him as a terrible headmage. He may be lazy and sometimes put his students in danger, but he thinks they just don't see how humble and kind he is. You didn't say much to him. It was just the two of you in the hallway when you complimented his coat. That was all it took for him to freeze. Someone complimented him? A genuine compliment? Sure it was about his coat, but it was a real compliment. Crowley is sniffling and his voice is wavering as he thanks you. You can see his arms raise almost like he wants to hug you. But he doesn't. Instead he stands there on the verge of crying and thanking you over and over.

It's getting to wear Crewel's coat. That's a privilege no one else gets, and it definitely doesn't happen often. Crewel often helps you keep up with your studies. Of course it's easier to help with science since he teaches it, but he'll help you with other subjects too. He may be strict but he's a good teacher. You've been buried in these books for hours now. At some point the sun set and all this studying was starting to make you tired. The books became harder to read and the words were just getting blurrier by the second. Maybe you just had to look at them closer? Okay maybe you're a little too close. Resting your head against the book probably isn't helping. Closing your eyes isn't either, but it's just for a second right? You can definitely hear Crewel talking, but you can't tell what he's saying. The next thing you know there's a big weight on top of you, and it's super soft too! It's very warm and comforting. Before you know it, you're drifting off to sleep under the big fluffy coat.

It's being the only person Trein trusts with Lucius. He get's freaked out when Lucius isn't with him, but if he knows Lucius is with you then he's not worried at all. The cat absolutely loves you, and will even purr for you. Even as you sat in history class with all your classmates around you. Most of them hated the cat and it's death-stare. But you never got that stare. In fact, you were the only person Trein would tolerate for not paying full attention. Partially because that attention was focused on his dear cat. Lucius sat on your lap perfectly content. He was even purring. You weren't fully paying attention to the class or what was being taught, but Trein didn't say a thing. Meanwhile he lectured anyone else who even had a uninterested look in their eyes.

It's being Vargas' co-referee. He's very enthusiastic about exercise in any form, and he's always encouraging other students to join in. So when you share that enthusiasm, he's both surprised and extremely happy. Most students do barely enough to pass, but Vargas is always trying to motivate them. He just wants them to be as strong as they possibly can. Now he gives you the chance to help motivate them. Maybe a fellow classmate will be more inspiring than he is. So, he gives you your own whistle and everything. Together you two are running around the field towards students who were slacking behind. Maybe you didn't share the same level of enthusiasm as you blew that whistle, but he was over the moon about it anyway.

It's the little care packages Sam gives you. He isn't one to give things away for free. Maybe a discount for some, but rarely for free. But you are an exception for that. Occasionally he'll ask you to stop by his shop, and when you get there, he has a box with a neat bow waiting on the counter. This time was the same. When you opened the box there was a whole treasure trove waiting for you. Your favorite snacks, drinks, and even little trinkets he thought you would like. It isn't a big thing, but it's a big sign he cares. Just like always, you hug Sam and thank him for the package.

It's these small moments with them that makes everything in Twisted Wonderland more worth it.

[werewolfoffeverswamp]

tbh i dont know if i’ve ever made a single piece of art i actually like in an academic setting. they’re always haphazardly done last minute and the subject matter is always so. hm. it’s a little boring. the only times i think i’ve come close to making something i was proud of in school is when i was pushed to my mental breaking point and i just started fucking doing whatever i wanted. so today i’m rating them

in my sophomore year i was in sculpture class and had to make a smooth plaster sculpture. the amount of manual labor required to sand down a sculpture that had to be at least 3 feet in some direction is not something i wanted to deal with. as you can see my sculpture is not smooth. the design i was happy with— the sculpture itself i was not.

it was titled “Mistakes” or something along those lines. my classmates stood up for me in critique when my professor said it was lazy and unfinished. not one of my peers said a bad thing about it. we smashed the sculptures apart behind the building when critique was over. i still want to cry when i think about it, it was an extremely special experience for me.

10/10 i actually wish i still had it and i have been meaning to make a tiny version out of clay. such a special piece to me, very formative

this piece was made at the end of my college career when i first started testosterone. i wanted to make some sort of tribute to it for my final piece— i’m of an extremely divided mind when i think about it. there are parts that look clunky and not developed properly… thrown together, as i believe my professor Jason said. i am, however, happy with certain technical aspects of the piece! the formation and shading of the hand and the syringe is something i really like, and did a lot of layering to achieve. i used a paper cutout to make the repeated syringes on the bottom left, another new technique i tried and was happy with the results of.

the text WAS thrown on last minute in an effort to spice up the piece but it’s a reference to the song Crosseyed and Painless by Talking Heads. it’s a song i’ve always identified with in a gender way, with the first few lines being “Lost my shape, trying to act casual./Can’t stop, I might end up in the hospital.” i felt on the verge of collapse constantly in the early days of my transition. it was like i had lost my shape and was destined to end up hurt in some way. i wish the text was more well thought out, it could have been done in a more uniform way and i think it would have looked a little better.

the wasp head is also a reference to an old oc of mine, who was a man with a wasp head named Gene. i wish i would have used different colors, the black and yellow i used should have been warmer. mars black instead of ivory. whatever again it’s technical stuff.

6.5/10 i could technically go back and fix this one bc i still have it, but i have better things to do rn.

the hand dino came into the world in a fiery manner. for the final project we had to make a piece with the dimensions of minimum like 4ft by 4ft, and by this point i was burnt out and the most exhausted with art i’d ever been (besides maybe sophomore year ig 🤔) and i told my professor i couldn’t do a project that big. he made the mistake of telling me to do what i could manage, which ended up being a roughly 12in by 12in piece of oil painting paper.

in many ways i like the concept of this piece. the idea of it. it’s fun! it’s combining realistic elements with cartoonish ones in a way i enjoy.

however. looking back, i genuinely think it would have been a cooler concept on a bigger scale 😭 which is so frustrating.

7.5/10 i wish i’d had it in me to do it better.

and how could we forget dear body horror babe? made in my first semester of sophomore year and done with ink and charcoal and conte crayons, it was an assignment one of my more eccentric teachers wanted us to do where we randomly splattered ink on a paper using ink-covered coins and tried to come up with a drawing just from the happenstance of where the ink coins landed.

i chose a more abstract route and basically turned every ink splat into an eye and tried to come up with somewhat distorted body imagery to evenly fill all the space on the paper. you can find a lot of stuff going on in this piece.

11/10 but also not done at my lowest point, just during the steady decline.

ok can i be frank for a second. i fucking hate this piece. so what you’re seeing is an 8ft by 4ft thin block of particle board, carved by hand in low relief to ink and print on old bedsheets.

my professor for this relief class was strict about the theme of the class, which was political art. she insisted we make art relating to a political topic and our beliefs on it. and this isn’t to say political art is bad in any way, but it’s truly not something i want to FOCUS on creating necessarily. the fact that it was MANDATORY is the issue here. one of my classmates refused to make purposely political art and instead chose to make a beautiful piece of the sun and moon as lovers. i wish i had just done the same and refused to make strictly political art. if i’m honest i just wanted to make an epic wood carving scene of a dark and eerie night outside draculas castle. instead, as you can see, i chose (somewhat arbitrarily in an effort to make the project into something i could enjoy carving) environmentalism.

technically i don’t mind this piece. the composition is fine and the detail in some areas i’m very proud of. other areas not as much. my teacher also forced me to do what i think is over-carve some areas to fill the piece with texture. i do not like it and i wish i had kept some areas fully un-carved, even if it didnt print right. i don’t care.

also what’s worse about the whole experience of this piece is that it was part of an event called Blocktoberfest and my school partnered with a local state college to make and print these huge blocks on their campus. the reason this is bad is bc the state college students did whatever the hell they wanted for their designs and we saw some really cool subject matters, from aliens to occult symbolism. and their school’s art department had a couch in it and ours didn’t. :/

also blocktoberfest was an insane amount of physical work bc rolling those big ass rollers in ink and then a giant block and then ink and then the block and ink and block was a lot of effort. i was sore after it. and it lowkey felt like me and my classmates were doing all the work and like maybe 5 people from the other school were helping. whatever. whatever anyways

1/10 genuinely pisses me off to look at. wish i would have just done draculas castle

^i also think it’s worth mentioning about this professor: no one really liked her. she made it very clear that she thought there was a right and wrong way to create art. and she fully believed she was right about everything bc she was old and wise. and she was also gay so maybe she had some credit. but her art to me always felt a little uppity and she was also really rich. she let us visit her studio and we did our final critique there of a piece i made that i absolutely hated everything about. i dont even have a picture of it bc it pissed me off so bad. she also was lowkey racist towards a few of my classmates so i really don’t like her.

anyways that’s all the pieces i want to review currently. let me know what you guys think about em if you want. i hereby ask for you to critique my art.

the difference between making art for a deadline vs making art purely bc you enjoy the process and outcome is so crazy. it actually makes me sick with sadness. i don’t have the resources to create freely yet. anyways art under the constraint of academia is so frustrating for me specifically. like whatever. whatever

[badlucky-blog]

Can three fools form a band?

Coincidences and a passion for entertainment and music brought them together, but will they be able to cope? A former child star, a maniac and a rabbit with many misfortunes. Surprisingly, they managed to make a name for themselves, but stop there guys, you still have a ways to go, and something called studies?

yes, the name is like that... with "Y"

Lol

Félix is ​​a very outgoing boy who enjoys talking to anyone, he tends to be a bit of a joker with people, although he also has no hair on his lips and will not hesitate to react if he is attacked in any way, saying that pizza with pineapple is good should be considered. an attack, in his own words.

He is lazy, but he loves to play the bass and play baseball, he is usually fascinated by pretty things, but he tries to hide it, he likes to seem carefree, perhaps his greatest weakness is his laziness because in general he is intelligent and cunning.

very relaxed…suspicious.

Girls would notice him if it weren't for his reputation for scaring women and because they think he's gay because of the way he treats Oswald and bendy

not working

Bendy is a fan of horror movies, comics and in general any work with a high classification, he is a very good dancer but he is embarrassed to show it.

He is someone who is reserved when he is not with Felix, there is something about their connection that only causes problems, he loves to talk about new movies or comics that he has discovered, he usually likes to tell Oswald about them.Ah Felix, no because they usually argue over which movie is better.

He changes completely when he looks at a girl around him, but none of them pay attention to him because they constantly mistake him for a little boy, which bothers him a lot.

And he works in a comic book store

My baby boy

Oswald Possibly the most “Normal of the three” and not to say his stupidities out loud, it makes him seem somewhat mysterious to the girls, in addition to his attractive physique and his last name, but when no one looks at him he is different and stops being Disney .

Sometimes they tend to get so immersed in their thoughts and internal crises that it drives Felix crazy. Oswald is in charge of writing the lyrics of the songs and with the help of his friend Ortencia they usually look for places to play their music.

He's too much of a perfectionist, which is a problem when your party consists of Felix and Bendy.

He usually works part-time in a mechanic's shop unlike his brothers. (HAHAHAHAH)

He usually appears on his father's program but only from time to time since he is often kicked out of the studio, since he tends to be somewhat rebellious with the authorities.(bro give me fanny's number)

[unpretty]

I'd love to get my partner a nice rig or otherwise reusable vape, but have exactly zero idea of where to even start researching. (She goes thru vapes pretty quick and tends to get the obnoxious light up ones, but I did finally mention to her that the e-waste is part of why I'm sticking with cigs for now.) I've got some holiday money to probably(?) get a decent setup for her. Do you have any recommendations? Either for rigs themselves or where to start researching?

personally i use a pod vape and even the one i'm looking at upgrading to is still a pod mod. i know vape bros always want to reassure me that changing coils in a real mod setup isn't that hard, but you tell me i need a screwdriver at any point and you've lost me. right now i use a vaporesso xros mini that was stupid cheap, i'm planning to upgrade to a 'pod mod' system where it's still a convenient pod but i just have to swap out the coil in the middle. gimme a sec, i'll find some visual aids and put them after the cut so it doesn't look like i'm trying to convince anyone to start vaping.

this section after the cut is just for the readers with a pre-existing nicotine addiction!!

okay so here is my current mini and how you refill the pod:

they seem to be using some kind of filling implement but every bottle of juice i've ever bought has a nozzle that fits right in there. the hardest part is popping the black cap off because sometimes it doesn't want to come off and it's scary and seems like it will break. but after the first time it comes off pretty easily. people will talk about soaking the wick or whatever and make it sound scary but the first time i fill a pod i let it sit 15 minutes before i use it and have no problems. i usually refill multiple times a day and the pods usually last me two weeks before augh blaugh burnt coil taste. sometimes you get a bad pod that floods a lot (bubbly noises and juice in mouf ugh augh) but that hasn't happened to me in ages.

the pods just magnetically pop onto the battery easy-peasy. it has served me well and fits nicely between my fingers the way cigarettes used to. there is no button, it's draw activated and probably as close as you can get to a disposable in functionality. pod refills come in four packs and are pretty cheap, which is great if you can get them at a local shop and less great if you have to spend twice as much as the pods cost on shipping. i keep a couple pods filled with different flavors to switch between. i buy 1.2ohm pods because i don't know shit about ohms and i don't want to.

here are the two i am considering buying as an upgrade for when i'm sitting at my desk and don't care how big and stupid-looking my vape is:

they are both vaporesso and they are both pods, but you swap out just the little coil situation in the middle instead of the whole plastic pod. they are button press instead of draw activated which i dislike because i am a lazy baby. i'm sure once you get used to it a button draw is fine but i don't waaaaannnnnaaaa. i will probably get the one on the right because it's cheaper and has a bigger battery, but the one on the left is see-through and space colors 😭 they got my millennial-ass pegged, aesthetically.

i have never had a good experience with coastal clouds juice and it seems like it's on clearance all the time for a good reason. learn from my mistakes. cloud nurdz sour watermelon strawberry has been really good, and pod juice blue razz. i might get some mystery flavors while i'm buying more pods, i haven't decided yet.

[artist-issues]

this my sound silly, but do you have any advice on how you come up with something to say for a story?

I think you're right that good art has something to say and communicates it well. That's certainly true of every story I've ever loved.

But while I love inventing fantasy worlds, you've made me realize I've never actually planned to say anything with them.

I've got lots of opinions, lots of beliefs, lots of stuff to say, but now that I realize I need to, it's been hard to pick one of those to be the core point of a story.

the trouble is, the dominant writing advice I saw online was the opposite. that stories made for the purpose of communicating a message or promoting something just turn into preachy propaganda, so the best way to make a good story (that, dare I invoke the curse, appealed to a wider audience) was to muddy it so you could take away as many interpretations from it as possible. thus most of the material I've given myself to work with has been slightly poisoned.

I really like how you said all of that! I agree with your assessment of the advice most people give.

Here's how I do it:

A loose concept, like a disgraced knight falling in love with the King's head of staff who's come to live in the village he's hiding in, will pop into my brain. I'll like the concept. I'll imagine one or two interactions between them that I just like.

But when it comes time to write anything down, even just for my own notes—then it's time to find a message. And usually that's not hard, or at least, that's not disingenuous, because:

what I believe, my worldview, was already subliminally shaping the things that I liked.

So then as I go to write down the names, the histories, the plot points, of my fun little knight love story idea, I find that something kind of...readily fits them.

But now here's the catch; it really helps to know what you believe, and to feel strongly about it, for all of that to come as naturally as possible.

About Propaganda "versus" Stories:

It's a lie to say that something which is created to say something is always propaganda, and something which is created with no careful point thought out is always art. Silly thing to believe. It's like saying "all words are propaganda." No, all words are communication. It's not our fault they don't like that we know what we want to say, and we want them to understand it clearly.

I mean. All art is propaganda, if by "propaganda" or "preachy" you mean, "I tried to take what was going on in my head & heart and put it in your head & heart." All art, all storytelling, is that. Otherwise you'd just keep what you think and feel bouncing around in your own brain, instead of doing anything outward (writing, drawing, painting, singing, speaking, reacting with your body language) with it.

I think what people are getting at when they say "avoid being preachy" or "that's not art, it's propaganda" is "you weren't being genuine." And that can be true. Sometimes people can tack a meaning onto a movie or a story where it doesn't fit because they either a) don't believe that strongly in the thing themselves, but everyone around them was clamoring for it or b) they were lazy and didn't do the work to make the story fit, genuinely, with the message, in a way that enhances and makes the message winsome.

But as bad as those two mistakes are, neither of them prove that intending to say something with your story, very carefully and genuinely, that you don't want misinterpreted, is somehow a bad thing.

Look at the fairy tales that the Brothers' Grimm collected. Look at any stories from the time before commercialism: Our oldest stories combined genuine enjoyment with the virtues and meanings that made enjoyment possible/worthwhile.

Anyway. I have a feeling you agree with me already about this so I'll hop down off that soap box.

What Comes First: Having Fun Making What You Like, or Choosing Something to Say?

I don't think it is wrong to tell a story that...you didn't have an intended thesis written down for. I think people like J.R.R. Tolkien and Walter Elias Disney prove that. But the thing is, what they believed got infused into their storytelling, because of course it did. It can't help it. When you want the audience to like your lead character, you make her likeable—but the traits you think are likeable are informed by something.

Snow White is innocent and pure because Walt Disney naturally considered those things beautiful and good and worth liking. He probably didn't even think to write it down and revolve everything around it: it just came out that way.

Frodo is a little scholar, and willing to soldier on with what little he can do, despite his lack of experience, because those are character traits Tolkien felt were good and likeable. Why? Because deep down, in his worldview, he believes being book-smart and doing what you can with what you have is valuable. And that just...comes out, much like his valuing of history, in the thing he creates.

Now, if they didn't know what they believed--or if they were insecure people "blown about by every wind of false doctrine" that comes their way--or if they were focused more on satisfying what the largest number of people liked--they wouldn't have been able to infuse the story with any genuine meaning, planned-out or natural.

That's what I think.

I think it's all a matter of loving what's good and true. Training your affections, so that you care most about things that are worth caring about—the things you feel most strongly about in characters will be the things you feel most strongly about in life. I love Stitch because I love redemption. Not primarily because I love sci-fi characters, the color blue, or the blend of ugly-and-cute—even though I do like those things on a more minor scale. See?

But if you've trained your affections for junk food—you feel most strongly appreciative of characters that are hot, or spout off funny one-liners, or come onscreen to cool music—then that's what will naturally come up in your own storytelling.

There's also nothing wrong with doing it the other way; saying you want to teach a certain lesson, and then coming up with characters and settings to fit that lesson. Coming at it from that direction is just as valid—as long as you put in the work, and care more about that lesson you genuinely believe in than you do what other people think.

Anyway,

To Write Your Own Main Point/Thesis/Armature/Theme

When it’s time to start writing anything down, it’s time to figure out the main point, and that’s when I...typically think about what I'd want to teach the kids I'm around, to be honest.

With my disgraced-knight love story, I go "what is it he loves about the girl, in all those vague vibe-y scenes I’ve been picturing?" And I make the connection between her virtuous character traits to what I want him, the main character, to learn.

So for example, she used to live in the palace, working for the King, but she was humble enough to give all that up and live in a no-name town to take care of her stepfather. He's disgraced and doesn't want anyone to know who he is—well, that's a pride issue, totally the opposite of how humble his love interest is. And why’s she humble? Because she’s not focused on herself. She doesn’t care about her own reputation or status. So then I just reverse engineer that: the point of the story is "Live in the King's name, not your own." Now one of the two main characters embodies that—the other has to learn it, and the story is the obstacle course he’s pushed through to get there.

I wasn't consciously thinking about making her the king's former head of staff, or him disgraced, when I first came up with the vague concept of the story, see? I just liked the "vibe" of a hopeless dude suddenly seeing a ray of light in the "vibe" of a girl from poor circumstances who seems happy regardless of them. I liked that "vibe." Then I traced what I liked about the vibe back to something that is true and worth teaching or appreciating in real life.

I’m in a job I don’t love right now, and it could make me miserable, but if I just remember “in everything you do, whether in word or in deed, do for the glory of the Lord,” then my focus isn’t on myself and I have joy and hope. And that hope can be used to point others, around me, to hope, too. So I’m not “preaching” something disingenuous; I’m living it, because this is what I believe, so no wonder it’s also leaking it’s way into my story. I just happen to be creating a pipe so that the leak flows more smoothly, which can only help, in the long run.

But I’ve done it other ways, too. Once I watched kind of from afar as a friend’s family fell apart. I felt like, from the outside, I could see where one of my friends was hurting and what they needed to accept (from the Bible) to move forward, but I wasn’t in a position to say it to my friend directly. Then I figured, “if my one friend is going through this situation, others probably are too, and this lesson from the Bible is universal anyway” so I…made up an analogy for the way their family fell apart, then came up with an ending that taught the “family” in the analogy the lesson I got from the Bible. So for that, you can see how I first came up with the main point, then built up characters and a world and a story to fit around it.

Both ways work, the chicken or the egg first. But they only work if you are committed to working hard and serving others with your story, not committed to being popular or “only making what YOU like.”

Make sense? I hope so! Thank you for the question!

[ryo-apologist]

Racer! Link

Racer! Link x Reader

CW: Smut, Minors DNI, I will block your ass, author knows nothing about racing and it shows

AN: Yes, this is about that Link. The one with the elf ears, says "Hyah!". Yeah I'm a Linked Universe Nerd. Sucks to be y'all. Keep ya guessing on which fandom has my balls this week.

~Darling XOXO

☾ So, I hesitated writing this for a number of reasons, but I decided I don't care. Hozier has a new song, April has me face down in the mattress with how hard it's fucked me and I just want to write about a Link near and and dear to my heart.

☾ Mario Kart Link.

☾ He's just a silly lil goober who's always having a good time. Especially when I play as him because what is second place? He'll never know.

☾ I know, canonically, both are Skyward Sword! Link and Breath of the Wild! Link. I do not care.

☾ Because come with me, sinner, as we explore a whole new world. A world where Mario Kart isn't a silly lil game. It's an empire.

☾ Like Fast and the Furious (I think, idk I never watched any of them). OR like sk8 the infinity at S. I do know that one.

☾ There are real things at stake here. It's intense, and it's heavy.

☾ Here, give me a break while I do some worldbuilding here. Mystery blocks are still a thing, they work by magic idk, except getting hit by one of those things is devastating. It's why the newcomers don't last long.

☾ All the main screen players (Mario, Luigi, Bowser, Inkling boy, etc.) are high level racers. They are A-listed and the ones you look out for if you see them in the lineup.

☾ Including Link himself. He drives a motorcycle he named Epona, which he built himself from scratch.

☾ I spent a lot of time (three minutes) trying to figure out a clever nickname for him, and then I saw some of the names other people gave their Linksona's and, while there's nothing wrong with them, I quickly realized I was overthinking things.

☾ It's mostly a stage name, his name is Link and outside of the raceway, he goes by it.

☾ But, for shits and giggles, and point of discerning him from the others, I don't care. Call him ratchet, greaser, racer, cypher, tank, axel, sparks. I'm giving you all the freedom! Me? Personally? I'm going to call him:

☾ Neo- a combining form meaning “new,” “recent,” “revived,” “modified,”

☾ Great I gave you some background, let's get into the fun parts.

☾ Neo, where do we begin with you.

☾ Have y'all read A Court of Mist and Fury? You know Rhysand?

☾ He's Cassian coded.

☾ LMAO You thought.

☾ He's a fun, kind-of guy but when shit gets real, he can shift from zero to a hundred like that.

☾ He'll be laughing with a newbie, patting them on the shoulder, but the second that visor comes down, he's unrecognizable. He's an A-lister for a reason.

☾ He's infamous for taking shortcuts that are insanely dangerous. He's almost always bandaged somewhere, but not his pretty boy, play bunny face.

☾ So Cassian and Lightning McQueen.

☾ He's totally the kind to shoot a wink and a flirty wave, spend the night and then be gone by morning. Or have them escorted out by his Zelda in the morning, Tony Stark style

☾ He's a slut.

☾ Can you tell I like my men slutty?

☾ And he's such a....character in bed.

☾ He's a selfish lover, but make no mistake about it. His partner gets their end. That's right. I said lover. He's fucked bowser.

☾ I'm kidding

☾ No I'm not.

☾ He doesn't care who's in his bed. Man, woman, the funky others who say FUCK YOU to the gender spectrum /pos

☾ He'll bottom, top, switch it up mid-way through. He just like me fr.

☾But he's not lazy. Selfish, yes, but lazy? No. He's the best rider both on and off Epona, yk yk.

☾ And he has such a pretty cock too. A pretty flushed pink, circumcised with such a lovely vein running up the bottom of it. And while pretty, sorry his balls aren't much to write home about.

☾ They are dangerously sensitive though. Suck on them and run your thumb along the head of his dick and he'll whimper.

☾ SPEAKING OF-

☾ He whimpers so nicely. God, when he's in the middle of bouncing up and down on you (artificial or organic both are good), and his own hands are running up his chest, plucking at his own pebbled nipples and playing with the piercings as his head is thrown back in pure bliss-

☾ He's probably sponsored by Monster Energy

☾ Has a sugar daddy FOR SURE. God wish I was HIM.

[all-pacas]

foreman cannot catch a break! first, he has to third wheel chase and cameron, after he has to third wheel chase and thirteen, his ex-girlfriend! then he and taub become friends and then chase goes and becomes a favourite of his daughters.

No wonder he continues to hate chase, I'd be pissed if some guy easily got everything he wanted in my life too

HONESTLY I could and probably will someday write up a whole thing about this, I know you're joking (and correct), but I actually find Foreman and Chase's antagonism really interesting and way more interesting than the bland "aww they're besties" read you sometimes see. They're really not!

Chase is basically. Chase is basically the embodiment of everything Foreman hates, pretty literally. Foreman has an inferiority complex and suffers massive imposter syndrome; Chase is literally a nepotism hire with a famous father. Foreman works his ass off; Chase is notoriously lazy but genuinely talented.

There's this line in Post Mortem from Chase's other hospital nemesis:

CHASE: If you really think I'm a good doctor, why do you treat me like an idiot? TREIBER: It's not because you lack talent. It's 'cause you've wasted it. Did you know I applied to be a fellow with House the same year as you? CHASE: No. TREIBER: Quit my other program, relocated, broke up with my girlfriend. Then your father made a call, and suddenly you had the spot. CHASE: That was almost ten years ago. TREIBER: Do you know what I could've done after even three years with House? Gone to the CDC, W.H.O. Started a diagnostics department someplace they'd never even heard of such a thing. You've been given everything. Looks, talent, my future. Nine years later, look what you've done with it.

This could literally be Foreman talking. Chase is rich, successful, he's socially very adept (something Foreman struggles with); on the surface he never seems to have to work hard for anything, he never seems to try hard or care. He fucks over House with Volger and gets away with it. He gets fired but keeps managing to fail upwards, and meanwhile Foreman is the one with a shitty reputation who can't get a job anywhere.

Foreman came from nothing, he overcame so much, he has overcome literally all the odds and worked his ass off and done everything right. And he's wildly successful, for sure, but it's work. "Chase doesn't care about this job," he tells House in S1. Chase doesn't deserve to be in the same place, because Chase hasn't worked for it.

There's a very interesting class/racial subtext to it all too, of course. We know Foreman resents poor people and the underprivileged, people who remind him of himself. Chase is literally the one percent: a good looking White Man, the scion of a rich and powerful family. He is everything Foreman isn't. Even their dynamic is kind of telling of this: Chase never seems to take Foreman all that seriously. He takes the piss a lot, he enjoys making fun of him and trolling. Chase does this with everyone, it's not personal, but it's kind of insulting, right? Chase kind of treats Foreman like a joke. Where Foreman can often be very rude or even mean to Chase (his insistence that Chase must have ratted to Tritter and is that spineless and making fun of his dady issues in Finding Judas comes to mind), Chase doesn't return the favor in the same way. Foreman is mean, Chase is sarcastic. Which is of course also hurtful. Which of course also makes it seem like Chase looks down on Foreman. I'm sure that's how Foreman takes it. It's true. Chase is pretty fucking dismissive of Foreman. I don't think it's a class/racial thing in the way Foreman's resentments probably are — Chase is kind of dismissive of most people — but it doesn't help.

And, of course, Foreman isn't completely right. He's biased, he's in his own way kind of a snob, there are several examples of Foreman completely misinterpreting Chase as a person: my favorite is in The Mistake: in an episode showing Chase bonding with Kayla and her brother and taking a sincere interest in Kayla's kids, Foreman bitterly complains to Stacy that Chase doesn't care about his patients. But Chase isn't exactly jumping at the bit to open up to Foreman, even when Foreman does try and reach out (Socratic Method, post-S6 divorce). They're kind of… fundamentally incompatible people. They're eventual friends, they respect one another, but they're just incapable of seeing eye to eye.

[mobox87]

Helloooo! I just wanted to say hi to you since i finally got courage to send you an ask😭❤️

I have been a fan of yours since 2014 and i was always too shy to ask or send you anything. 😭❤️I was just "lurking in the shadows" watching and admiring your work from afar since i was young. I LOVE your art you have such a unique style i haven't seen anywhere!! Keep up your great work♡♡😭❤️❤️ but since i'm here now i'd like to share with you my art of William Afton i did when the fnaf movie came out :DD It was so GOOD!! Me and my bf came to a conclusion that it's really a movie only for fnaf fans because people who are badly criticizing it just don't know much about fnaf lore i'm guessing :P

There he is :DD i really hope you like it! I'm sorry it's just a photo but my phone is an android and i'm using an ipad for drawing and i was too lazy to send it to myself through my instagram accounts😭❤️

Also what are your thoughts on the fnaf movie?? I'd love to know🥰

( feel free to answer if you don't feel comfortable you don't have to <33 )

OMG Thank you so much!! You did an amazing wirk with that beautiful art of Afton/SPRING!! 🐇🐇🐇🐇

I really appreciate how much you have been following my universe and even though we never interact you know that you can feel welcome.

I left off being an agent a lot because I had my mistakes and I didn't want to hurt anyone so I preferred to avoid telling people about it.

But I feel that things like this are special situations because you have made the effort to come and see here and that makes me very happy because you share something so personal with me, the truth is I feel that it is beautiful!! 💖✨💖✨💖✨

As for the film personally, I also loved it, I already felt good and if they left a plot gap, then simply because they said there was going to be a second part, perhaps a prequel. When I was at the cinema I screamed, I laughed and I got excited. I got angry, I cried and everything I feel is that this movie made me find a lot of emotions and that is enough for me to say that it is good!! 🧸🧸🐇🐇

Not even green apart from the one in which Afton appears already in the Spring Bonnie costume because that's where my name was shouting, I was sweating all over my body, very excited, just don't shout so as not to disturb others.

Thank you very much for sharing these words with me and for sharing this drawing. I really think it turned out beautiful and please keep drawing because you are managing to make beautiful things! ✨💖✨💖✨✨