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anylady-fics · 2 days ago

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Body talk | Han Jisung x F reader

I really suck at aesthetics.

Summary:

[...] He was standing there, talking to you all casually, when he stripped his shirt off. Your jaw just dropped because well, you weren’t ready for that. Sure, you’d noticed he looked healthier overall, but the man was always drowning in oversized clothes, so you never really saw much. But right then? Oh, you saw.

“You’re staring, baby.” He always called you that, but at that moment, it just hit differently. “Like what you see?” [...]

Or... she just couldn't handle how hot her friend had become.

*** this work is for adult audiences. Minors DNI ***

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, dry-humping, unprotected sex (don't do it), vaginal sex, creampie

4,488K words - cross posted on ao3

Ⴡ Masterlist

Han Jisung was one of your best friends, so when he told you he was starting to work out, you were really supportive. He was always the skinny type, the kind that made you wonder if he was actually eating all his meals. But you were kinda used to seeing him like that, so…

You weren’t exactly sure when it happened, but he started growing… a lot. Since you saw him all the time, you didn’t notice right away how big he was getting. It wasn’t sudden, but it happened.

Then there was this birthday pool party with all your friends, and that’s when you really noticed just how hard he’d been training at that damn gym.

He was standing there, talking to you all casually, when he stripped his shirt off. Your jaw just dropped because well, you weren’t ready for that. Sure, you’d noticed he looked healthier overall, but the man was always drowning in oversized clothes, so you never really saw much. But right then? Oh, you saw.

“You’re staring, baby.” He always called you that, but at that moment, it just hit differently. “Like what you see?”

Fuck, you were staring. But how could you not? His arms were like three times bigger, and so was his chest. And he still had that thin waist…

“I just… I just didn’t notice how buff you got.”

“Yeah, I’ve been working out for almost two years, you know?” He flexed his biceps for you, as if you weren’t already dizzy just looking at him. “Glad you like it.”

Han had always been that flirty guy, the one who calls you ‘baby’ and was always sweet to you. But now? That same behavior was making you feel completely different when he was actually… that hot. What the fuck was actually happening? Of course, you’d been stuck with your shitty ex for the past year, so you weren’t exactly looking at other men. And you hadn’t been on a date in months, still kinda numb since that piece of shit broke up with you. But right then and there, Jisung was waking you up. Or at least, it felt like it.

“I did, I mean…”

“Yeah, I know. You didn’t see anything happening around you when you were dating that asshole.”

He was right. You didn’t. And your ex was always jealous of your friendship with every guy, but especially with Jisung—and you never really understood why. Nothing ever happened between you two, and you never saw him that way. Sure, you knew he was pretty, you’d always thought he was cute. But you never—ever—considered dating him. Not because of his looks, of course, but because he was your friend, and you didn’t want to mess things up. You were never good at relationships, so dating friends? Yeah, you always avoided that.

But…

You could have a crush, right? Just a crush. It was natural, it was healthy. Nothing to worry about.

“Could you help me out with this?” Jisung was talking to you, but you hadn’t been paying attention until he handed you the bottle of sunscreen. “Can’t reach my back, so…”

You took the bottle and tried to act normal, really tried. He turned around, letting you spread the sunscreen over his skin, and that’s when you really saw—and felt—his back muscles.

God. You’d always had a weak spot for skinny buff men, so actually touching him? That was making you a little nervous. But it was Jisung. Thinking about him that way just felt wrong. Not that you could stop—not while you were rubbing way more sunscreen on him than necessary, for way longer than you should.

Once you’re done, you hand him the sunscreen and excuse yourself, you need to go to the bathroom to change into your bikini. And also… to check something.

As soon as you lock the door, you drop your backpack on the floor and start undoing your shorts, because you can feel it. You can feel how wet you got just from rubbing sunscreen on your friend’s back.

That shouldn’t be happening. It was so sudden. You definitely weren’t going to act on it, but still… it made you realize just how long it had been since you’d had a date, a great night with someone, hell, even an orgasm. Even one by yourself. It was embarrassing how worked up you got over something so simple.

You walked out of the bathroom already in your bikini, with a pair of shorts to cover up—not because you were shy or anything, but because you couldn’t shake off your dirty thoughts. And you knew they’d only get worse once the drinks started flowing. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to notice how soaked you were… without even stepping into the pool.

The day was going really great. Everyone was eating, drinking, and playing by the pool, so you let yourself relax for a while—slipping off your shorts and lying down to soak up some sun, maybe even get a little tan. Even if it was a bit late already, the sun would be gone in an hour.

“Careful, baby. You’re gonna burn like that. Here, I got you the drink you like.”

You didn’t even have to open your eyes to know that it was Jisung. Of course he was bringing your favorite drink—he always did. But now? Now it was getting under your skin. It wasn’t his fault, but you were acting all weird around him.

“Thanks, Ji.” You took a sip before finally looking at him—only to find him sitting on the ground, right next to you.

“You don’t have to stay out here in the sun…”

“Oh, I know. But I want to. Feels like ages since we just hung out. And it’s not even that hot anymore.” He sat there, stretching his legs out, leaning back on his arms. Muscles on display, skin glistening with sweat, pool water, and that damn sunscreen. “You’ve been all depressed since… you know.”

“Yeah, but I’m alright now.” You tried to look away, but somehow, you just couldn’t. So you took another sip. “What did I miss?”

He started gossiping about your friend group—but nothing mean, just filling you in on everything that had happened while you were holed up in your room, feeling sorry for yourself. Hyunjin got a new girlfriend for a week, then broke up with her… which was nothing new. Chris was working his ass off, also nothing new. And Changbin? Apparently, he’d been helping Jisung at the gym. Well… that explained a lot.

“I’m really glad you’re doing better now.” He finished his beer, flashing you the cutest smile. “Hope you pick someone better next time.”

“It’s not that easy!” You could already feel yourself loosening up from the drink—and the amount of vodka he’d poured into it. “Are you trying to get me drunk, Han Jisung?”

“Is it too strong, baby? Sorry, I can make you a new one if you want. But what do you mean it’s not easy?”

“No, I’m fine. It’s just… it's been a while since I drank vodka. But thanks, really.”

“So… what do you mean?”

“What?”

Yeah, nope. Playing dumb seemed like the best option. You really didn’t feel like whining about your shitty love life. Jisung already knew you had a habit of settling for way less than you deserved, and you weren’t about to go down that road again. It was just… embarrassing.

“You can tell me. Why do you keep dating assholes?” He paused for a moment, then—out of nowhere—blushed. “Is it because… you know. They’re good in bed or something?”

“God, I wish.” The words slipped out before you could stop them. You stared at your drink, then shoved the glass into his hands. “Here. Keep it. I’m already talking too much.”

“But seriously. Why?” He took a sip of your drink, then immediately made a face. “Jesus, this is a crime. I’m getting us new drinks. Be right back.”

You’d never really talked about sex with him before. Sure, some things had come up during drinking games, but nothing too revealing. So… why was he so interested in your love life now? You trusted him enough to tell him everything, but all you could think about was how much of a loser you’d sound like. Admitting that most of your exes couldn’t even make you cum? Not exactly your proudest moment.

He came back with a really sweet drink for you and another can of beer for himself. For a moment, you thought he’d drop the conversation entirely—almost felt relieved about it, even though you kind of liked the tension. But as soon as he sat down, a little closer this time, he picked up right where he left off.

“So, you were saying…?”

“I wasn’t saying anything, Ji. Stop talking about those assholes, they’re in the past now.” You took a sip. God, it was good, so sweet you could barely taste the alcohol this time. “This is perfect, thanks!”

“Come on, tell me. I really wanna know how a good girl like you always ends up with guys like them.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, it just happens.” You shrugged. “And they’re not even good in bed, that’s the worst part. Most of the time, they didn’t even care if I came or not.”

“Oh my god, so you hate yourself that much?” He groaned, taking a deep breath before nearly downing his entire beer. “Please tell me you’re not doing that again. It’s painful watching you suffer every time.” He set his can down with a sigh. “Also, you have to make sure they’re gonna treat you right before anything else.”

“They’re not assholes at first, you know…”

“I’m talking about the sex.” He raised an eyebrow. “You gotta make sure it’s good before making them your boyfriend.”

And now you were the one blushing. Because, well… he wasn’t wrong. You’d always waited before sleeping with a guy, always dated them for a while first. But that clearly wasn’t working. And the worst part? It wasn’t even them. It was you. You got comfortable, and you sucked at breaking things off. It was always like that.

“So you seem to know a lot about this relationship stuff,” you said, feeling the alcohol settle into your system. “How are you still single?”

“Well, I had a few dates… but I’ll only have a girlfriend when it feels right.” Then he smirked. That smirk. The kind that made you want to hit him, but you couldn’t, because it was too damn irresistible. “At least I made sure they were satisfied.”

“And how are you so sure about that?” Your cheeks were burning? Yeah, definitely. But the conversation was interesting, and the alcohol was making it a lot easier to roll with it.

Jisung smirked again, then glanced at you. Just a quick look. But you saw it. Saw his eyes flicker down—right at your tits. And fuck, it hit you like a rock. That’s when it really sank in. You were sitting there in nothing but a bikini, your nipples were hard, and you’d been soaked since the moment you rubbed sunscreen over his back. But you didn’t move. Didn’t try to hide a damn thing. You just sat there, waiting for him to answer.

“Oh, baby…” He tilted his head slightly, voice dripping with amusement. “You don’t really want the details, do you? I’m not the type who fuck and tell.”

“Such a gentleman…”

“I am, actually.” He grinned, cocky as ever. Then, after a beat, he added, “And you know… since you’re single and not dating anyone, I could just… show you. Sometime. Maybe.”

Bold. But the second the words left his mouth, he hesitated just for a moment. Like even he couldn’t believe he’d actually said it. And fuck, you clenched. Hard. Harder than you thought was humanly possible. You just stared at him, like you were still processing what he’d just said because, honestly? You were. Your whole body was screaming yes, but your brain? Your brain was still desperately trying to remind you that this could ruin your friendship.

“Ji…”

“Yeah, I know. We’re friends and all. And you don’t do friends. But what if… what if you just let yourself enjoy it? It wouldn’t ruin anything, I swear.”

It shouldn’t have been normal how ridiculously turned on you were from just a conversation. Your cute, hot friend was almost begging to date you. To fuck you. Specifically.

“And I can read you,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower, his eyes darker now. “I know you’re horny. I’d bet money you’re wet right now, because I actually pay attention to you.”

Your sanity was slipping. How the fuck did he know that? And more importantly, how the hell were you supposed to say no to him? If he could read you this well, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he could actually do to you if you let him. And you were so close. So close to letting him. Because you were really fucking horny, and everything was starting to blur together in your head.

“Okay.” It’s all you can manage to say, your body growing heavier, hotter with every passing second.

“Okay?” He tilts his head, smirking. “So you’ll let me show you? Use your words, pretty.”

You swallow hard. Fuck it.

“Yes, Jisung. I want you to show me.” Your voice is steady, but barely. “And yeah. I’m wet. I’m horny. You were right about that, too.” You lean in just slightly, challenging him. “So… what are you gonna do about it?”

“Fuck, baby… everyone already went inside since it’s getting dark. Wanna try to find a room for us? Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“I doubt it, so…”

You already knew you’d end up sleeping on the floor or crashing on some couch once you headed inside, there was no way any rooms were still available. You stand up without another word, heading straight for the couch near the pool, tucked away in a more private spot. The low walls should be enough to cover you.

Should be. But anyone could still walk in on you. Anytime.

No doors. No locks.

Just the two of you, outside, where you definitely shouldn’t be doing this. And that only makes you want it more.

Jisung followed right behind you, and since you’d already given him permission to touch you, that’s exactly what he did the moment he got close enough. He was right there in front of you, still shirtless, somehow looking even hotter than he had two minutes ago. Or maybe you were just drunk and horny.

“I’m gonna kiss you.” His voice was low, his body radiating heat so close to yours. “And if you want me to stop, just… tell me. I’ll try.” He had that playful smile, but fuck, he looked so sexy you started wondering if you were even in your right mind.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, and finally, you felt his skin on yours, warm, firm, so good it sent a shiver through you. His lips brushed against yours, teasing, barely there. Then, his tongue traced your bottom lip before slipping inside, and you welcomed him so easily, sucking on it, responding to him like you were made for this. It was wet, hot, messy. So good you felt yourself melting between your legs. And then, as he held you even closer, you felt it… his cock, hard against you through his shorts, pressing right where you needed him most.

You couldn’t tell if you were just needy or if he was really the best kisser you’d ever had, because it had never felt this good. You’d never felt so overwhelmed just from a kiss. Jisung knew exactly what he was doing, and you had no idea how many minutes had passed since you started—kissing, pressing your bodies together, completely lost in it.

There was a couch right next to you, and you were starting to feel it—your legs weak, your body buzzing, the heat pooling between your thighs. You needed to sit down. Or maybe, you just needed more. Maybe sitting on him, that would be good.

You pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him back just slightly. He pulled away immediately, eyes flickering with concern—until you wordlessly pointed to the couch. You couldn’t even trust yourself to speak, but he understood. Oh, he definitely understood.

He grabbed your wrist and sat down, pulling you close until you were right where he wanted—on his lap. Fuck, you just knew you were going to soak his shorts. There was no way to avoid it. You were sitting directly on his hard cock, and then he started kissing you again. His hands rested on your waist before slowly moving up, his fingertips teasing just beneath the fabric of your bikini, making you desperate for him to actually touch your tits.

You whined against his mouth, hoping he’d understand just how needy you were for his touch. And apparently, he really could really read you… His hands moved higher, cupping your tits, feeling their weight before giving a gentle squeeze. You moaned at the sensation, not even realizing how you were pressing your breasts into his hands, silently begging for more.

He teased your sensitive nipples through the fabric, making you shiver, and you rolled your hips slowly, desperate for some friction. He moaned too, feeling you grind against his cock, and fuck, his mouth tasted like beer, a bit like weed, and a lot like you should’ve done this ages ago.

You couldn’t stop yourself so you kept grinding on his lap, your clit throbbing with every slow roll of your hips. And judging by the way he was whining between kisses, he was loving it just as much.

His lips trailed down to your neck, sucking and nipping, leaving love bites along your skin. Then he went lower, tugging your bikini top just enough to wrap his lips around your nipple. His wet tongue licked over the sensitive bud, making you moan a little louder now that his mouth wasn’t on yours to muffle the sound.

“Ji… feels so good,” you breathed, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. You didn’t want him to stop. He groaned against your skin, sucking harder as his hands grabbed your ass, squeezing tight, guiding your movements, making you grind even harder against his cock. You could easily cum like that.

His hands were everywhere—touching, groping, squeezing—grabbing every inch of your skin like he couldn’t get enough. You kissed him again, still rolling your hips, but a wave of embarrassment started creeping in because you knew you were close. If you kept this up just a little longer, you were going to cum.

“Gonna make me cum in my shorts like this…” he whispered against your lips, his voice strained. “You close? Wanna grind on my cock until you cum, baby?”

“Yes… so close…” you whined, gripping his shoulders for leverage as you moved faster, harder. Any trace of embarrassment disappeared the second you saw the way he was looking at you, his eyes dark with lust, filled with pure desire. “Gonna cum… fuck!”

Your orgasm hit you hard, your body shuddering as you slowly came to a stop, riding out your high. Your pussy clenched around nothing, and the realization made your head spin. Jisung held you close, his hands firm on your waist, his mouth still latched onto your nipple. Fucking hell, you’d only dry-humped him, and you already felt completely wrecked.

“That was so fucking hot.” He kissed your neck again, licking the sweat from your skin. “Wish we could do more, but it’s so fucking risky out here…”

“Yeah?” You were still catching your breath, your hands resting on his firm chest—now teasing his nipples. “What do you wanna do? Tell me.”

“Wish I could eat you out. Fuck, you’re dripping… I can feel it.” His words made you clench around nothing again. “Wish I could fuck this pretty mouth of yours.”

“Jisung…” His name left your lips in a breathy whimper as your hands slid down his body, tracing over his chest, his abs—until you reached his cock, hot and hard beneath his shorts. You pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing him completely. He was already leaking for you, so hard, so fucking ready for you to just sink down onto him. “Just wanna feel you inside me now,” you murmured, eyes locked on his. “You can eat me out and fuck my mouth another time.”

You knew you sounded desperate. You were desperate. But you didn’t care.

Instead, you pulled your bikini bottoms aside, rubbing his tip against your clit, using his precum to make yourself even wetter.

“Gonna let me fuck you raw, baby?” His voice was thick with desire as he watched you rub his cock against your clit, teasing yourself, teasing him. “Didn’t think you’d let me fuck you today… especially here, where someone could walk in on us.”

“Yeah? Let them see. I don’t care.” Your voice was breathy, reckless. “It’s dark anyway.” There was no condom, and it was obvious neither of you had one. “I’m on the pill… clean,” you reassured him, your eyes never leaving his.

“I’m clean too,” he groaned, gripping your waist. “But fuck, baby… I’m gonna blow fast. Watching you cum like that almost did the job.”

“I don’t care, Ji. Just fuck me.”

“Then put it in,” he rasped. “I’m all yours.”

You didn’t think you’d ever been this wet in your life, not that it mattered, because Jisung was thick. He wasn’t huge, but the girth…

You guided him to your entrance, holding his cock at the base as you slowly sank down, feeling the delicious stretch as he filled you, inch by inch. You were already panting, creaming around him as you rolled your hips to adjust, every inch of him pressing against your walls just right.

Jisung moaned, his hands finding your tits, teasing your nipples, making you want to scream from just that. Fuck, you were so needy.

“You’re taking me so well, baby…” His voice was a low growl, his hands sliding down to your waist, gripping tight as he helped you move. You started riding him, slow and deep, feeling every inch drag against your soaked, clenching walls. “Such a pretty pussy… so greedy, too…”

You clenched hard around him at his words, making him groan. He could feel how much you liked it. It was so hot—so fucking hot—you almost couldn’t believe you were actually letting your friend fuck you like this, there of all places. No one would believe it even if they saw you. And maybe that was part of what was turning you on so much. The risk. The filthiness of it. You didn’t even recognize yourself.

But you didn’t care about anything—not when he was buried balls deep inside you, stretching you, filling you so perfectly. Fuck.

You started moving faster, really riding him now, rolling your hips just right so your clit dragged against his pelvis with every grind. That friction alone was enough to push you closer to the edge again. You were a mess; sweating, moaning, completely fucked-out, and Jisung was staring at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world.

“You’re clenching so hard, think you can cum again? Wanna see you cumming all over my dick. Use me, come on.”

Fuck, how could you say no to that? He gripped your waist to help you grind against him, his cock buried so deep inside you it was hurting, but it felt so good you just kept moving, your hips moving on their own, desperate, needy, chasing that high. You felt the orgasm coming, it hit you like a wave, ripping a moan from your throat so loud he had to shove his fingers in your mouth to shut you up. You sucked on his fingers while cumming hard on his cock, almost crying from pleasure, feeling the way he was throbbing inside you, probably holding himself to not to blow.

"Fuck, I’m gonna cum…" Jisung groaned, pulling his fingers from your mouth and gripping your waist so tight you knew he’d leave marks. "Inside?"

"Yeah… fill me up, please…"

You were trembling, breathless, drooling, desperate to feel his hot release spilling inside you. It would be so messy… you already felt filthy, but fuck, it felt so good.

With a deep, shuddering moan, he came inside you, biting his lip to muffle his sounds, his body tensing as he spilled deep. You could feel it, warm and thick, already leaking from your overstimulated pussy while he stayed buried inside you, still pulsing. Slowly, you lifted your hips, savoring the way he slipped out of you before adjusting your bikini back into place, like nothing had just happened.

"Yeah, I believe you now." You helped him adjust his clothes, smoothing them back into place. "You really know how to satisfy your girls, Ji."

"Told you." He smirked, eyes closed, breath still heavy, his skin glistening with sweat. "The body talks, baby. We just have to listen."

And he had listened, he knew exactly how badly you wanted him, touching you just right the entire time. You couldn’t argue with that. He was good. So good. And as you lay there, catching your breath, you realized you didn’t regret a thing. No guilt, no second thoughts, just satisfaction

"See? We’re still friends. Nothing bad happened." He held your hand, his gaze locked on yours. "And we should do this again, you know?"

"Oh, we will. I still remember you saying you wanted to eat me out. No way I’m missing that."

"And fuck your mouth." He smirked. "Stop that, or you’re gonna make me hard again."

"Is that a problem?"

"Depends… if you’ll let me fuck you again."

"Not here, Ji. We could get caught. But tomorrow…"

Oh, there was no doubt—you were definitely doing this again.

Jisung chuckled, running his fingers lazily over your thigh, teasing, but not pushing.

"Tomorrow, then." His voice was husky, laced with promise.

You stood up, adjusting your bikini enough to head into the shower as he leaned back, watching you with dark, satisfied eyes. The way he looked at you sent a shiver down your spine, like he was already planning what he’d do to you next.

"Better get some rest, baby," he murmured. "You’ll need it."

You smirked, biting your lip as you turned to leave, already feeling anticipation curling low in your stomach.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

#skz fanfic #han jisung fanfic #han jisung smut #han smut #jisung smut #straykids fanfic #stray kids smut

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shun-ie · 3 days ago

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₍⁠₍⁠ ⁠◝ the past, the present, and the future (rhys larsen)

content : longest fanfic yet, rhys larsen, differentpath!au, amab!reader, slowburn, sexual awakening?, strangers to acquaintances to friends to lovers, mentions of trauma/ptsd, healing the inner child, ooc-ish rhys, unprotected sex, slight mention of fingering, bttm!malereader, ceo!reader, mentions of kinks, lmk if i missed anything :))

shun-note : rhys larsen is not my oc. he belongs to ana huang, the author of twisted games. i also noticed that there weren't a lot of twisted series fics (or there's none at all), so i made one. missing some details, but i wanted to post this already so it doesn't rot in my drafts lol

[not proofread]

m.list !

cold hearted. that's what rhys larsen first thought of y/n l/n, the ceo of l/n conglomerate. after being the bodyguard for bridget von ascheberg, the crown princess of eldorra, he took up another commission to drown away the ache that was left when he parted from the woman he spent his two years protecting.

y/n l/n was vastly different from any of those rhys had guarded in the past.

y/n put his work first. sleep? he'd sign and read through papers until he collapsed and died. eat? he'd starve just to entertain the board of his company. he did however, keep a strict hygiene and exercise routine. in those two months with y/n, he never once saw the frown leave his lips. it was like it was permanently scarred on his face. the total opposite of bridget.

rhys was offered the job just after he freshly resigned from his post. he was reluctant to accept the commission, but accepted once he found out it was a man he would be guarding this time. he did all the background checks, read y/n's information, did security protocols, just like any other clients he had previously.

and as he trailed behind the ceo, who parted the crowd of paparazzi and 'fans' like the red sea, he was brought back to the moment when he first met the indifferent man in front of him.

"this is sir y/n l/n. lately, he's being harassed by paparazzi. he has been followed home seven times in the past month . . . ambush interviews . . . and he can't eat in restaurants anymore," the secretary listed as she spoke to rhys via request of y/n's father who took care of affairs in china. "he normally does things alone without bodyguards, but this time people have gone too far," she further explains, pushing an open folder with photos taken by the paparazzi.

they consisted of y/n sitting in a booth at a restaurant, entering sister company buildings, walking through the park, and even leaving his car as he approached his house. it was never this bad with bridget.

as he examined the photos, alongside the blueprints of y/n's house and the company headquarters he requested beforehand, the secretary says something that catches his attention.

"sir l/n doesn't talk much. so don't feel hurt if he gives you the cold shoulder when you guys meet," hurt? hilarious. i don't even know him well enough to be hurt. "-he most likely will ignore you." arrogant? stuck up?

it was then when he met y/n l/n that there was something else. from the way the ceo's eyebrows furrowed, stress shadowing his tense but elegant form, as he scanned the papers in his hand, a cup of something in his other.

"miss clarke, i have another meeting with missus barett on wednesday at seven pm. add that to my schedule. and move my call with mister harris around nine pm after the meeting." he then stopped in his tracks, taking notice of the other presence in the room. he blinks, eyeing the large man sitting in front of his secretary. long hair, broad muscular frame, gunmetal eyes, and a scar slashing through his left eyebrow. he wore all black. "you must be the bodyguard my father hired. rhys larsen, correct me if i am wrong."

y/n's voice was full on business, leaving no trace of any other emotions other than serious and commanding. words rolled out of his mouth like smooth silk and his earlier strides could rival fairies that pranced around gracefully as they took flight.

"yes and if i may, i'll be looking around the building for any security measures," rhys got straight to the point. there was no point dancing around the issue. no point in introductions, they knew each other well enough. it was obvious. his indifference masked the slight curiosity that sparked as he watched y/n disappear into his office, where he caught a glimpse of neatly stacked paperwork and the large window that overlooked the city from above.

even as he drove away from the airport, he knew nothing about the man he's protecting. unlike bridget who he had arguments and decent conversations with, y/n only gave him one or two word responses before silence loomed over them like a cloud everyday for the two months they were together. the basic information about the ceo was nothing compared to the behavior, habits, likes, and dislikes of the crown princess.

he took casual glances from his rear view mirror, observing as y/n scrolled through his hundreds of emails, noting down important information on his pocket journal.

rhys has never seen y/n stop working.

"you're ruining yourself." it was just a thought, he never intended for it to slip. he curses in his mind.

y/n hums, never looking up from what he was doing. "why is that?" he knew exactly why, but he chose to ignore it. he wore himself down most of the time, all the time. he never intended to stop, but the words rang clearly in his mind. you're ruining yourself.

"it just looks like you're burning both ends of a candle, trying to manage yourself and work," rhys focused on the road, "but you can't."

y/n has never disobeyed his instructions which he was thankful for as it made everything easier. he never really did go out as much as bridget did. even then, scheduled events and meetings were always smooth as rhys had planned it to be.

y/n wasn't as hard headed, outgoing, and filled with fire. not like bridget. rhys didn't even know why he was comparing two polar opposites. but being with him, he thought of the crown princess in eldorra who offered him extension of his contract, which he refused. and now he's here.

"i work . . . because it distracts me from my reality."

y/n has never talked about why he does what he does. it felt right in the moment. rhys has never pried answers out of him, partially because he didn't converse with him, however his eyes told him so. those stormy grey eyes that showed nothing but genuine curiosity even though he tried to hide it.

rhys didn't know what to think as they reached the end of the highway. two months and y/n finally spoke a full sentence. rapport was a card he had set to the side because of their circumstances, now he might as well consider putting it back on the table. he saw y/n put his work down, temporarily ceasing his work which were probably with a month or two deadline, and relax against the seat.

"i hate thinking of other things, other people," y/n lets out an empty chuckle, finding rhys' eyes through the rear view mirror, "isn't that why you took the commission to bodyguard me? to forget about the previous client you protected? we're a bit alike, you and i. we do things that would take our minds off things."

it felt like a bucket of ice cold water washed over rhys as he heard those words. we do things that would take our minds off things. his grip tightened on the steering wheel, gazing away from those sad e/c eyes that ingrained themselves in his memory. he never thought his longest interaction with his client would be so depressing, yet eye opening. he knew of three things.

one. he is trying to take his mind off of someone.

two. y/n works to take his mind off of something or someone.

and three. y/n wasn't cold hearted. only seemed like it.

rhys stood at the sidelines, alert and ready. his eyes wandered around the event, as if looking for any threats that would suddenly appear out of nowhere. he then dragged his gaze towards his client, who was in the middle of a group of other businessmen and women. he shared a tight and practiced smile, trying to act polite and respectful as the night dragged on.

y/n wore a tailored suit, it was simple yet elegant. his hair was slicked back, lips full and glossy from constantly licking it as he swirled the wine in his glass. he was total perfection. a face that would leave anyone in ruins. but rhys caught the slight tremble of his hand and his eyes flashing to different places, as he squeezed out of the group that huddled around him. it looked as if he was panicking, though he regained himself when he knocked back the wine. rhys almost left his spot if it weren't for the pointed and reassuring look y/n shot his direction.

it was four months after that conversation. their relationship was less tense and less quiet. y/n now regularly held conversation with rhys, getting his opinions on philosophical and theoretical things. sometimes they spoke about the geographical locations where the company could build a new branch of resort. it never trespassed the gates of personal life.

when rhys asked about something he did for himself, y/n blanked him and changed the topic.

"since you're working because of something or someone, what do you do for yourself?" it was a question that he came up with as they got deeper into the conversation about places that could potentially become a tourist spot. rhys didn't always like talking because it included emotions, but with y/n it felt natural. it was during these one on ones that he caught glimpses and pieces of the person behind the cold ceo exterior.

y/n blinked, turning away and opening another topic about attractions. "what about a butterfly house . . ." rhys sighed through his nose quietly. during the first day he said that he doesn't become included in his clients' lives and that he wasn't there to be a friend, confidant, or anything else. but looking at how y/n tensed when he even hears the words family and yourself . . .

rhys knew y/n at least needed a someone. we're a bit alike, you and i.

it didn't take long for him to notice the signs of ptsd. the way y/n only spoke about his father, excluding his mother in conversations. avoiding places that had closets that contained cleaning supplies or were used for storage of documents. there were also times rhys heard shuffling in the kitchen way past midnight even when they got home around ten or eleven in the evening.

as much as rhys tried to ignore the sense of care, not wanting things to repeat, he couldn't help but feel a bit of fear that y/n wouldn't come out of hi bedroom. would he fail to protect him because of how he lived outside and inside work? terror flashed through him as he thought about it. he's working too much, he'll kill himself before he could even reach forty.

and as of that moment, his heart thrummed against his rib cage. he screamed profanities in his mind as he lost sight of the client he was supposed to protect. he bulldozed through the people, ignoring their glares and mumbles as his eyes darted around for y/n.

there was another thing he feared. repetition of the past.

being with bridget for over two years changed a lot of things for him. never has he breached the contract rules until her. he's hasn't felt anything like it until her. he prayed to the gods that she would be the last. hopefully.

as he rounded a corner, he caught sight of a silhouette through a slightly ajar door. he pushed it open and found y/n sitting on the middle of the floor of the empty ballroom. intricate designs decorated the walls and ceiling, pieces of furniture finishing off the classic look.

"i know that you think of your previous client when you guard me."

it made rhys tense at the door. in all the years of his life, he was the one to read the other, not the other way around. something about y/n challenged him. they were simply a mystery to each other. unlike bridget who knew about his past and him knowing hers, y/n and him knew nothing about each other aside from the basics.

"when i look at you . . . it looks like it pains you to be guarding me. you think you're good at hiding it, but you're really not," y/n droned out, looking at the night sky through the windows. "during the first two weeks, i noticed some habits you retained from your commission before this one. it seems to me there was more to this certain client, that's why you took on the job of protecting me. something must have happened."

rhys stiffened ever so slightly, feeling a spike of both irritation and astonishment. he didn't like this. but at the same time, he also felt a bit of relief that someone knew. he couldn't lie about anything. something did happen with bridget, but he had hardened his heart, ignoring the twisting ache when he left. he left her when he was claiming her in his mind.

"you should think of resigning as my bodyguard," y/n gets up from the floor, patting down his suit and fixing his collar and cuffs, "i think you should go back to your previous client. i can find another bodyguard."

rhys immediately closed their distance in five strides. he's six inches taller and towers over y/n easily with his broad and muscular figure. his eyes doesn't shy away from the heated connection of misunderstandings and mystery that brewed between them in a steady pace for the past six months and threatened to explode like a nuke. "i wanted to be your bodyguard. a client from before doesn't change anything. it shouldn't. protecting you is number one priority." his words were like knives slicing into the tense atmosphere. he didn't want his client doubting him.

silence hung heavy over them, both of them not once backing away from the fiery eye contact. rhys was right, despite his relationship with bridget, that doesn't deter him from doing his job. his job is solely focused on his current client. to protect y/n l/n.

"mister rhys, you truly do surprise me." y/n turns away from his bodyguard and brushes past him, feeling a tug at his heart. he places a hand on his chest, he clenches it and lets it drop back to his side. "i'm exhausted. let me just bid my farewells, then we can leave this godforsaken event."

rhys stared at the back of y/n as they headed back to the garden. the faux personality that he reserved for the attendees returned, treating the man he just spoke to in the ballroom as nothing but another him. no, he didn't have a personality disorder, that's for sure. he just likes hiding behind masks. he definitely fits the role of a ceo.

a year passed. rhys continued his job as the ceo's bodyguard. he really fit the role. during the first week, he memorized y/n's schedule, plans, and the blueprints of the headquarters and estate. the following months, less paparazzi flocked y/n and there were occasional attempted assaults (which was new). he was completely amazing.

y/n watched the man he had been with for one year and a half. since that night during the garden event, a lot of things have shifted. their once debatable and business talks transformed a bit more personal varying from favorites and elaborated opinions on preferences. there were times they strayed away from one topic to another as he signed papers and went over some of them. it took away the ache of loneliness he felt over the years he took his place as ceo.

where his company would be the words he read and the calls he took and the coffee curbed his exhaustion he can never get rid off, he felt lighter than he did before rhys became his bodyguard.

rhys sat on the couch flushed against the trimmed walls of the office, furnished with bookshelves, a glass coffee table, and small trinkets here and there. he could feel y/n's eye drilling holes into the side of his head. he gave him a glance only to see the man turn to his papers, pretending to digest the words printed on them.

y/n had him sit on the couch, getting a slight headache from seeing and hearing him standing at the door and occasionally walking around. rhys found it amusing how the cold hearted ceo felt emotions such as frustration and glints of sadness when the world saw him as someone who used people for his gain and didn't feel a drop of guilt.

throughout the year, he got to know a lot of things about y/n. he loved reading, not his paperwork but novels. he spotted some books laying around but didn't question them and instead, skimmed through the pages. he specifically liked crime and fantasy. he also liked jazz. there was a shelf of cassettes and vinyl records near the fireplace.

"what happened between you and your previous client?" the question brought rhys' attention to y/n again. this one was very personal. were they close enough to even talk about it? he did say that what happened in costa rica stayed in costa rica.

rhys sat back, pondering before concluding. "if i were to answer that, you have to give me something of equal value," the idea of exchanged caught y/n by surprise. interest flickers through his eyes as amusement showed on his face.

"are you bargaining?"

rhys laughs lightly, the sound squeezing at the ceo's heart. "it's business."

y/n reached for his chest as he gulped. he brushed the feeling off and nods, "i like that. let's talk business then." a devilish and heart stopping smirk lifted the corners of rhys' mouth.

"i noticed on the blueprints that you don't have any room that's as small as a pantry. even your walk in closet is as big as your bedroom. why is that?" rhys had an inkling, an assumption, but he wanted it to come out of y/n's lips. he saw his client huff a breath, a thought crossing his mind, before slumping, regal self gone.

"i have ptsd. it was from my mother. when i was younger, she had this twisted sense of duty. she packed my schedule with a lot of lessons. mostly languages and subjects related to business. if i have a low score, she'd lock me in my room for a few hours. if i failed, she'd lock me in a closet. to distract myself, i indulged in hobbies and other things. she found out and locked me in for i don't know long. all i know is i was hungry and thirsty. it didn't take long for my father to find me, he had just come home from a business trip. the house was a mess after that," his voice wavered slightly, but regained its steadiness as he thought about his father. no amount of therapy sessions cured his fear of enclosed spaces.

when he tried to overcome it once, his lungs constricted, he felt nausea and sweaty, he couldn't think at all. he felt so helpless.

y/n was silent for a while before shaking his head, trying to rid of himself of the resurfaced memories. one he tried to forget but couldn't. not when they lingered in the back of his mind. if he couldn't get over his fears, then he couldn't get over his past. so he'd ignore it as long as possible.

"we're alike, you and i." rhys reused the words y/n had told him a year ago, this time removing the words a bit. and true to the bargain, he told him all about bridget von ascheberg. as soon as he mentioned her name, recognition flooded through y/n's eyes. he listened attentively, nodding and humming here and there. (read twisted games for better understanding) understanding settled in the air. comfortable silence followed soon after, both returning to what they were doing before their heart to heart.

rhys gazed at the man sitting at the desk. in a timespan shorter than his time with bridget, he and y/n knew each other in a deeper level. maybe it's because they were both men? or was it because the silence and waiting for the starting few months pushed everything into place? maybe it's because y/n took his time being comfortable first before conversing? he didn't know, there were a lot of possibilities.

he was certain of one thing. there was more to y/n's story.

three months passed. aside from the company parties, meetings, and alumni event, everything was smooth sailing for y/n. he did receive death threats once or twice, but it was all sorted out by rhys who stuck to him like glue. he either trailed behind him like a scary dog or stood beside him when having idle chats with other people.

they started eating at the table together, as y/n's father demanded one day during one of his visits and berated his son for not asking rhys any sooner. the latter has become less alert when they were in a room alone together, not like before where he would pace at times. now he sat reading or sketching, occasionally focusing as if listening or looking for something.

it was the first time rhys saw y/n in casual wear. jeans, shirt, and a jacket. his father had told him to go have fun for one day, then he could go back to working until the day he dies. so there they were, at an amusement park.

a sparkle of childish curiosity passed through y/n's mind as his eyes went from one ride to another. its been a decade since the last time he had fun. the thought twisted at his heart. where everyone enjoyed normality, he couldn't. fun time was a luxury for him when he was around ten to fifteen. he had to work hard for it, but it was only brief. how he wished to experience it all.

"is it your first time in an amusement park?" rhys stood beside him, still in all black, though his outfit was a bit more laidback. he stood tall, oozing with a sense of responsibility. he received a mute nod.

the longer y/n looked around, the more he felt overwhelmed. his lips quivered as he swallowed hard. sadness embraced him. the heaviness of the situation weighed on him. all those stolen childhood days could've been spent being reckless and facing the consequences later, having fun, making friends, and exploring life. "i never thought i'd see a rollercoaster in real life."

rhys followed y/n around. those books that laid around the house held utmost significance. they were worlds that he could imagine himself in, leaving the reality that was set in stone by his mother. universes where he could be the main character of the story, even if it's just for a little while. he felt the sliver of happiness his mother depraved him of.

they walked around the park buying souvenirs and trying out food. they went on the dropper and dropper. y/n looked at the cars of the ferris wheel and refused to get on even when rhys mentioned that the view was nice at the very top. for their last stop, they decided on the haunted mansion. it was the main attraction.

as they entered the mansion, they were covered in darkness. there were dim lights that led the way. there were many twists and at one of the turns, rhys and y/n got separated. the latter looked around in wonder, a burst of excitement guiding him through the maze of halls. the cold hearted man was hidden away in the suit of the ceo, in casual clothes he was just y/n.

just as he was about to run off somewhere, he was shoved against the wall and locked in someplace dark. he furrowed his eyebrows and took a step only to realize there was limited space. his eyes widened as he tried to move, feeling around only to find to familiar structure of two closet doors trapping him.

"hello!?" he tried to open the door only to find out it's been wedged closed by an overturned chair. he slams his palms against the wood, sweat rolling down his forehead, suddenly feeling hot. "let me out!"

his hands slid against the frame, pressing himself against the wall of the closet as if trying to make more space. he hears his pulse in his ears, eyes darting around frantically trying to find some sort of light in the blinding darkness. he feels oxygen leave his lips in pants, he's light headed. "please . . ."

he slides down the wall as the tears of the past come rushing to the present. tears slide down his cheeks as he becomes the helpless child he once was. "please . . . i'm sorry" he wheezes out, his mind flashing back to the old closet in their old estate.

cool air brushed against his sweaty forehead and he's pulled out of the closet and into a set of arms. "l/n? l/n, stay with me." rhys pats y/n's cheek, trying to wake him up from his episode. tears kept pouring as he muttered nonsense. his heart was racing too fast. "why the fuck did you lock him in a closet!?" he barked at the actors, who flinched back from the scalding tone.

"it's part of the experience. it was supposed to be for two minutes," the manager calmly de-escalated the situation.

rhys scowled, supporting y/n who was out of it. "take it out of the fucking experience." he hears the disoriented man mumble something before taking him someplace else where they could have a bit of privacy.

"thank you . . ." y/n stared blankly at the people walking by. he was sitting on a bench. he didn't know what to say. the last time he had an episode was when he tried to overcome his ptsd six years back. it didn't work, instead he had a similar experience but a tad worse.

rhys stood before him, blocking him from the nosy people who tried to peer. his arms were crossed, flexing as the irritation from earlier slowly faded. they were separated by two actors. he was forced into a pit of fake bones and when he was out he was faced with a serious situation. y/n's ptsd episode.

"it's my job."

y/n sighed, shoulders slumping. even on the one day where everything should be normal, it still turned out to be another traumatic day. the child that hid in the mansion of his mind always found his way out, replacing his current with the past. he hated how he couldn't even overcome being in a closet for five fucking minutes.

"no it's not. your job is to protect me from physical harm. but as of this moment, you eased my emotional harm. for that, i thank you," he raised his head and gave him a small smile. it felt foreign, but it felt right in the moment.

rhys' breath hitched. that damned smile that y/n gave. it was unexpected from someone who was frowning everyday. he felt that familiar tug on his heart. one he didn't want to feel, but couldn't kill. y/n looked gorgeous being showered in the golden sunset.

that smile . . . it looked good on him.

another year had gone by. a lot had changed since that day at the amusement park. almost three years, a lot of things changed.

y/n was a bit more expressive with emotions, only with rhys and his father however. he slowly started easing off his work and had rest days. despite having said days, he still could only get in, two at maximum, hours of sleep. he was eating more. rhys was there through everything. another constant in his life.

"i was thinking of a beach resort in areas where resorts aren't that popular," the chief marketing officer proposed, standing confidently in front of the board officers. y/n sat at the head of the long table reading through the hard copy of the presentation. rhys stood to his side like a hawk. since that day in the amusement park, he didn't want another shove incident, even though there weren't any closets nearby.

y/n flipped through the papers once again and sighed, "our company shouldn't only be resorts. i need a proposition that steers away from the word resort. we can't market that forever." he moved his head from side to side and sighed as he felt that satisfying pop. he's been sitting listening to propositions for an hour and a half. his ass felt numb. "everyone, let's take ten."

as people filed out the room, y/n flipped through the rest of the propositions with a groan. it was so deep and stressed, it was attractive. rhys felt his cock stir with interest as he eyed the serious ceo.

he's been having urges. that tousled hair of y/n, he just wants to run his fingers through them and tug them back. those tense shoulders, he could fuck the stress out of him by bending him over the table.

rhys shook his head and cleared his mind. during the past year, he has been curious about sexuality. normally he didn't care, however now that he's feeling something for the same sex, he's been doing some research. it started off small, from bits of information and opinions of other people in the community until he got too deep and even discovered pornographic videos.

it would be a lie if he denied watching some videos, but it was for research purposes. all his life, he had always been interested in women, but since he met y/n, he has been questioning a lot of things in life. he wants it to stop. he had to remind himself that things from the past should never repeat.

as rhys had an inner conflict, y/n had his own as well. he tried to distract himself from the masculine presence behind him, acting as if he was going through the papers. it was half true, he was trying to ignore the glimpses of moments that flashed through his mind of these past two months where he relieved himself at the thought of his own bodyguard. he felt a bit shameful, but it felt so wrong and right at the same time. rhys had been uncovering a past he tried to keep buried. however, it resurfaced every time he saw him.

"you know . . . the reason my . . . mother locked me in the closet . . ." it was a random blurt out, but it was on his mind. rhys showed a sign he was listening. "i danced as a hobby. she didn't like it. she claims its girly. i'm also . . ." y/n trailed off with a thoughtful hum. "i've never really said this to anyone but my mother. i'm also into men." no matter how long its been.

rhys felt his stomach flip. he stared ahead of him, feeling a bit of relief. "good to know."

those three words made y/n's heart flutter. he hid the heat appearing on his cheeks, thankful that his back is turned to the bodyguard that tested and pushed him. but he had to ask, even though deep down he knew the answer, "what does that mean?"

"you have work to do."

three months passed, which makes three years. in those months, y/n came out to his father, who responded with an i suspected that. being the ceo, he was expected to negotiate. he did, though during those meetings, he couldn't avoid proposals like arranged marriage or marriage to merge companies. before he could answer, rhys was already there making his presence known, a frown on his face, scaring away other ceos. it got to the point where y/n only made phone calls for such meet-ups.

to rhys, its been hectic. to resist y/n's bold advances such as sliding a hand against his bicep, sometimes his chest. looking up at him through those lashes with big innocent eyes, even though they're far from it. that cute smile from the amusement park that seemed to be only reserved for him alone. and those sounds he lets out when he's stressed or working.

y/n was driving him insane. forget the contract, they can make a new one where he'd fuck the ceo into submission anytime and anywhere he wanted as long as he stayed his.

rhys knew y/n wanted him. he could tell from his actions and his words with underlying meanings. it was killing him to keep his hands to himself. if he could only reach out, wrap a hand around y/n's neck and kiss him like there's no tomorrow . . .

it was one in the morning, they had just gotten home. in the car, y/n proposed to play a game. two truths and one dare, in which they took turns. as they stepped into the warmth of the mansion, y/n came up with a question for rhys' chosen truth. in all honestly, he just wanted to entertain his client (hopefully to tire him out) so he could turn in for the night before he took him right there on the front door.

"what are your kinks?"

as the game progressed in the car, the questions got more inappropriate, definitely borderline breaching their contract.

"hair pulling . . . bondage you could say . . ." he listed off other kinks, fixing his shoes beside y/n's before entering after him. he could feel himself harden the more the other spoke to him about something sexual, as if interviewing him before having him fuck him senseless.

until that question made his heart stop. "would you kiss me?"

rhys slowly turns to y/n, who was looking at him with mild interest with a mix of arousal. he could feel it from the three feet distance between them. the way y/n's eyes traced his lips, dipping below his chin, and stopping at the bulge straining against the black pants.

y/n was sporting the same in his pants. after he admitted to liking men, it was never the same since then. it would never be the same. not when his heart tugs and flutters because of the man standing in front of him. not when his heart fell hard when he found him in the closet in that haunted house. not when they'd had all these one on one talks. through all he stayed.

"yes. would you like me to kiss you?" rhys returned the question as they neared each other, one foot apart. maybe his feelings started growing the moment the silence turned into small and slow conversations. or that time y/n acknowledged what he truly felt when he left bridget. maybe because they shared some similarities. or is it because y/n relied on him to take away the pain of loneliness of only thinking of the future, not allowing himself to heal from the past and appreciate the present.

"yes."

(⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ rhys' pov

with that, i dove down and molded my lips against his. i guided his head, tilting my heard, pushing against him. his pants echoed in my ears, trapping him against the nearest wall, taking his breath away. when he tried to pull away, i chased his lips, claiming them once more.

when i pulled away, he looked awestruck. i kiss him hard. i press our clothes cocks together and i feel him hump against me, my hands caress down his body and kneads on his cheeks. grunts pour into my mouth as our tongues fight for dominance.

his legs hook around my hips and i carry him upstairs into the bedroom i claimed. i drop him onto the bed. "clothes off." i turn to grab lube and condoms in the drawers. when i turn around, my breath is almost caught in my throat.

the curves and groves of his body, the fullness of his skin, and the way it's begging for attention, makes me want to drop everything and just fuck him raw. i am well aware this is my second breach of contract. i had no reason to do this. this would be another hook-up and-

"breach of contract or not. resigning or not. once you fuck me and i like you, i'm yours and you're mine. i swear to fucking god, we're not arguing about it. we'll fuck it out too."

that was enough for me to push him against the mattress. i'm not asking him how he knew what i was thinking because most of the time it's like he could read my mind. but he did say, i wear my thoughts on my face. maybe it was something only he could do.

my thoughts never once wavered even as i scissored my fingers into y/n's hold, my eyes watching every contort of his face, every redness of his skin. the noise that fell like waterfalls from his swollen lips as i pressed against the bundle of nerves while he desperately pushes against my hand. i groan under my breath. it took a lot of self control to not just fuck him stupid and take away his walking ability.

everything in my mind felt silent as i admired the man under me, taking me inch by inch after throwing the condom on the other side of the room claiming to want to feel me fully and be filled with cum. that almost made me lose grip.

as i bottomed out, i almost immediately rutted my hips. it was so hot and i'm being squeezed tight but just right. i almost exploded right then and there. i felt him tighten his legs around my hips, uttering for me to go.

slowly i pulled out and pushed back in with a low groan. it felt good. so good. i started to pick up pace, slamming balls deep eliciting beautiful moans and whimpers that tickled my ears like a melody.

my hand found its place around his neck, pushing him back into the soft cushions. i apply light pressure and he cries out in pleasure.

"you're ge- hah~ getting b-bigger~ hng!~"

i felt his hands rub up and down against the scars on my back before they wounded around my neck, pulling me close. my nose traced his carotid as i planted kisses and nipped at his skin, my thrusts growing harsher and erratic.

i bit hard on his shoulder with a grunt as i felt him clamp around me, making me cum, shooting thick ropes of cum inside him. i felt spurts of warmth between us as y/n flinches and convulses from his high. he breathes heavily, a dopey smile on his face. i press a brief kiss on his lips and pull out. he groans and drapes an arm over his eyes.

"i mean what i said, whether you're my bodyguard or not. i like you and you're mine and i'm yours."

hearing that made my heart feel good. if there was a god out there, thank you lord for giving me a second chance. i laid beside him on my back. we both stare at the ceiling. under all that cold hard shell, he was very different. he warm warm and mellow. i was cold and barren. yet he thawed all that.

"can you i be your boyfriend?" y/n asked, interlacing our fingers together. it's been a long while since i've last been in a relationship. people say it's too late to try at my age. but it doesn't hurt to want and need. i crack a rare smile.

"whatever you want buttercup."

#shun-ie #male reader #fanfic #amab reader #male reader smut #twisted series #twisted games #rhys larsen #mlm #bottom male reader

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kiyzukiy · 2 days ago

Text

Cat distribution system

Sypnosis: Life is hard as it is, so all we all wish for is some comfort in a furry friend. No one accounted for life playing funny tricks so what would happen if you find Caleb in a trash dumpster?

Tags: reader x Caleb, fluff, Cat!Caleb, crack?, funny (hopefully)

A/N: I got inspired by another fic I found on here with a similar flow. If anybody knows what I'm talking about please tag that person. I don't want to disregard any original ideas! >.<

As always, if I missed any tags please tell me.

Word count: 4.8k

I hope you enjoy <3

Divider by me

You groan as you stretch yourself out. Sitting too long is always such a hassle. Tired bones and you felt like your muscles have calcified. If you wouldn't have moved now someone could have mistaken you for a stone statue the way you were perched at your work desk and scrolled endlessly through files.

Doesn't matter now though. The clock finally releasing you from your workload. Tomorrow was also a day and the files wouldn't suddenly grow legs and run away. No need to do overtime today.

You rubbed your face. Trying to shake off your exhaustion and slowly blinking the dryness in your eyes away. One more stretch that let out a satisfying crack in your back and you stood up. Packing your things together and making sure that this time you also took your thermal mug with you. Waving your coworkers goodbye you made your way home. Head already in the clouds with your game. Planning your time out of doing your dailies and just admiring your favourite fictional man. A pity that they don’t build men like that in real life.

The chill evening air hitting your face made you shiver the first step you took outside. Cuddling up in your coat and wrapping your scarf up just a tad higher you began your track home.

Fuck it's cold, you think to yourself. When would spring arrive and you didn't have to be out in this freezing weather anymore? Don't get me wrong, winter is something beautiful and when the snow hits the landscape it was akin to a fairy tale setting. The sunsets even more stunning with the low light and making everything glisten. Colours spreading over the horizon in deep violet and heartwarming orange. Frozen over roads just a bit slippery which made your way to work a small adventure when you played the game “do I land on my bum today or not?”. But enough was enough.

You wanted the sun back in your days having had your fill with this gloomy grey cloudscape. Waking up when it was still dark out and going home when night greets you again was draining more of your energy than you liked to admit. What made matters worse wasn't even that it didn’t affect only you, but that the melancholic and cold atmosphere was spreading slowly over to the people around you. It was in the way minor inconveniences would grate the nerves of your colleagues or the small tick of the jaw of your boss. The forced smile in service people who normally would make it seem genuine. Point was: everyone was fed up and ready for the seasons to change. When was the last time you saw the sun actually? Was it last October? Two weeks ago? You don't remember anymore. Just- just a long time ago. Pretty sure. Maybe you were a bit dramatic but all you wanted was to feel the warmth again and getting your vitamin D in.

A rustle next to you snapped you out of your self-pitying lament. Confused you turned your head to the right. Nothing. Just a dark alley. A car passed you by on your left, shortly illuminating a sliver of said alley. A dumpster could be made out but nothing exciting. You shrugged your shoulders and took one step, but another rustle stopped you once more. A sigh left you. Would you really go investigate? You swore this is how the stupid character out of a horror movie always died. This exact way but the curiosity in your mind and veins tried their very best to lure you into that alley to go look. One peak wouldn't hurt right? A man who wanted to drag you into it would have done it by now. There wouldn't be a more perfect chance than right now. The way you stood there like a fine lady in bewilderment.

This is what you get when you forget the one time your headphones at home. If it would be any other day, you would have continued on. Having passed this particular alley countless times and in daylight it wouldn’t be as scary as it was in this instance. Hopping from one foot to the other, you were uncertain. Would you really? You also could just…leave. Never finding out and always wondering. Spending sleepless nights wondering what could have been in this very alley that made these rustling noises. Or you would forget about it as soon as tomorrow morning came. Maybe it was just the wind that blew over a leaf or bag. On the other hand this could be a cool story you could tell your friends about. Or you could get mugged.

Alright fuck it. You go. Otherwise you would stand out here in the cold for the next ten minutes pondering about if this decision will have negative consequences on your life.

Tentatively you took one step into the alley. Instantly your common sense kicked in and pressed adrenaline into your veins. My god, this is the way you would die. Mentally have written your testament and who you would leave behind what you took another step.

“Hello?”, you asked hesitantly into the night. Frustrated with yourself you grunted. Naturally a serial killer would answer you out of the alley with “yes, behind this dark corner. I made sandwiches, you want one?”.

You had half a mind just turning back around again, but as if on cue another rustle. This time followed with a bang out of the dumpster. You let out a breath of relief. Oh by the gods, it was just a stray animal…or was it? Nevertheless the strong grip of fear that held your breathing back let a bit loose and you made your way to the dumpster with sure steps.

Your heart clenched in your chest at the thought that maybe an unlucky racoon got trapped in the dumpster and would meet an unsightly end in one of the waste disposal sites. Without a second thought you opened it and peered inside. Barely enough light from the street lights flooded one side of the dumpster and you saw- nothing. It was pitch black. Quickly you patted your pockets. First coat and then your pant pockets for your phone. One hand fished for it and rather clumsy you unlocked it to get to your flashlight. Now with your weapon of light you peered inside once more and this time you saw- trash. At first. A lot of it, nothing out of the ordinary for a dumpster in a lived in neighborhood. Out of the corner of your eye you saw movement and following it was your hand with your phone.

“Naaww you poor guy. How did you end up in here?”, you cooed after you spotted a brown cat that had a completely black right arm. Its fluffy fur was completely damped and it looked very dirty. Also something you could expect of a stray cat. Slowly and cautiously you held out your hand to it as to not scare the cat away.

“Come here. Let me help you”, you said in a low voice. The cat looked at you, then at your hand, rather unimpressed. In true cat manner it seemed like it wanted to say “I don't need your help puny little human”. You giggled.

“Come on. I don't bite and as soon as you are out of the dumpster I leave you alone. What do you say?”, you tried to reason with the cat as if it could understand you. To your astonishment it acted like it did. Suspicious of your hand the cat sniffed it first. Deeming you not an immediate threat it rose up from its position and stepped closer to your hand and yourself. Slowly you dragged your hand to a spot where you could easily grab the cat and lift it out.

“Alright buddy. I’m going to grab you now so don't make me regret it by scratching me”, you spoke more to yourself than the cat. You really didn't want to go to the next doctor and get a tetanus vaccine in. The cat still unimpressed with you followed your movement though. Securely you wrapped one hand around its ribcage and the other, after putting your phone away, beneath its hind paws and scooped it up and over the dumpster back on the ground.

“There ya go”, you smiled down at the cat. “Didn’t even hurt.”

The cat looked up at you and only then do you notice its blue eyes that really dipped into a deep violet. A splatter of yellowish green accompanied the irises. For such a beautiful cat to be a stray, you almost didn't believe it.

Also, the cat didn't move. You fully expected it to dash away as soon as its paws were back on the ground but it just stood in front of you. Almost like it was waiting for something.

“Go on now. Go home”, you crouched down and offered your hand again. “Or don't you have a home? Such a beautiful cat as yourself.”

The cat once more went to your hand. Starting to purr as it rubbed its head against your hand. Demanding pats.

“Yes”, you giggled. “Such a handsome cat. And friendly too. You must have a home, right?”

The cat meowed as if it tried to answer you. Your heart broke a bit. For sure this handsome fellow had a home. As you absentmindedly patted the cat all over you looked around. You felt no collar around the cat’s neck and wondered who it could belong to. Thinking about what to do next, the cat started to rub itself around you. Bumping into you and almost pushing you out of balance.

“Alright, alright”, you began patting it in earnest again.

“So, how about I take you home with me for now and then just put up missing posters, hm? Is that a plan?”, you asked the cat. Meowing back at you, you took it as a yes to your plan. Inwardly you celebrated. The cat distribution system finally chose you! Maybe not for long but you now were in the possession of a new cuddly friend. You might not have anything at home but that could be easily fixed. This beautiful fellow also might not stick around for long but for however long you swore you would take the best care of him. Her? It? Right, you never ascertained which gender the cat had. Eh, whatever. As long as you didn't get attached to it and without much pain could give it away again, all was good. Right. Right?

Future you will hate you for this decision.

The cat stretched, walking around you once more and then pawing at your knees as if to beg to get picked up again. Opening your coat and scooping it up from the ground, you fulfilled the cat’s wishes.

“My god. You are really friendly”, you mused to yourself and scratched the cat's head to which in return it purred even louder.

Together you made your way out of the alley. The dumpster forgotten and your way home just a bit warmer.

“Don’t run away, okay?”, you said softly to the cat before untangling it from your torso. On your track home it made itself very comfortable on you while you carried it. Its head often flitting from one place to another. You blamed the new height of perspective for the cat's behaviour. Couldn’t blame it, really. Imagine yourself getting hoisted up five times your own height and then carried around places that you never seen before. Now that would be an adventure. For the most part the breathing was calm so you didn’t worry that much. More surprised at the fact how the cat didn’t struggle once to get free. Just enjoying the free ride.

Cat on the ground in front of the door of your apartment you dove one hand into your bag, trying to find your keys that you carelessly flung inside. With half an eye on the cat all the time. Not that it would decide in the last moment to make a run for it. Granted that it wouldn’t come far or could cats push open an apartment complex door? Probably not or the coincidence would just be big enough that one of your neighbors decided to go out in that exact moment as well.

You shook your head off these thoughts. Cat was still on the ground and eyeing your door expectantly. Seemingly cat wasn’t even thinking about going anywhere but inside your apartment and here you were already thinking about all the different possible scenarios that would ensue when it ran away. Silly you.

Key victoriously between your fingers you finally unlocked your home and cat dashed inside like the devil was after it. Puzzled you stood at your door for a bit.

“Alright? Well…make yourself at home, I guess”, slowly trudging you went after it into your own four walls. Serotonin tingling your brain with the happiness that cat was very excited to explore its new home.

Exhaustion slowly made itself apparent. Clawing at you and dragging your already tired body. Exhaustion and hunger but motivation wasn’t nowhere near you to make yourself food instantly. Cat on the other hand was curiously looking around. Taking in its new environment. Sniffing, patting around and jumping on shelves to get a better view.

“Don’t throw it down, I swear to god”, you warned as you spotted cat near a vase with flowers inside. Body despite the sluggish feeling ready to jump to save the vase from its crashing end. Expertly the cat avoided the glass and danced around anything that was not stable. You let out a breath of relief. Automatically your body carried to your couch in the living room on which you rather unceremoniously slumped down on. Ah, finally home.

_____

How the fuck did he get here? One moment he was in the deepspace tunnel, conducting a new mission and the next he had four paws. Trash surrounded him, it was fucking dark too. He could make out the sound of cars passing by and people walking on the street. Where was he? To his own surprise he wasn’t that cold until he realised that he had fur as well and when he tried to speak only a meow came out. In no way in hell did he turn into a cat, did he? No. What?

In his moment of utter disorientation, a lid opened and a beautiful face peered down to him. Down? Ah, right. The cat thing.

Caleb watched you fumble for your phone only to be blinded the very next moment by the harsh light of a phone flashlight. It took several blinks to get his bearing again. You reached out your hand to him. Now this was getting ridiculous. “Poor guy”? “How did he end up here”? Sweetheart, that's what he should be asking. Who the fuck are you anyway and why did you open up this-? Where was he? Is this a trash dumpster? Oh his fucking gods. If he could sigh in annoyance, he would.

Caleb eyed your hand suspiciously. The smart move would be to take it. Considering everything, he couldn’t get out of this dumpster alone and what could be worse is that, tomorrow the dumpster could be emptied. Nor did he trust humanity enough that another friendly soul would come and pick him up or at least get him out. You were his only shot right now, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So? He sniffed you. Creepy in his own mind but he was a cat now. The least he could do was to make it look convincing.

You pulled your hand closer to yourself as if to lure him out of his corner. As if he wouldn’t just go to you willingly. How long would he need to put up with this act? Irritation flared up within him. This is so beneath him.

Scratch you? Yeah, why not actually? Instead he let him get picked up gently. Now was not the time to bite the hand that was feeding him.

The moment was faster over than he could comprehend. Swoop- and he was back on the ground. Caleb looked around. Alright, an alley and- you. In your full glory. Black pants, hair tied up, thick scarf around your neck, an open hanging coat and warm looking boots. Beautiful, pretty and cozy looking. Not a threat. A quick scan and he was certain you carried no gun. Not his worst choice, he thought.

Let's make a run for it. What do cats normally do to get pity? Humans usually die to pet them. Swallowing his pride he went to you. Did he like to get touched? Sensitive question. If it would be his childhood friend, he wouldn’t mind but a complete stranger? In this form no less? God, that needed willpower and he was already running low because of this situation. Please let this all be a dream and he would wake up in a few moments in Skyhaven.

“A home?”, yeah in the arms of someone else but that was not here. Just where in heaven sake was he? Get this over with, woman and just take him with you.

Please, he meowed. Inwardly he sighed. Good lord…

Mercy was shown and you actually picked him up. Giddy and a happy smile on your face you wrapped him up in your coat. It was warm and against his own doing he began to purr at the sensation. Okay so maybe this wasn’t as bad as he imagined. Distracted a bit and sleep pulling at him, he let himself enjoy this small reprieve for a bit.

Lights flitted by behind his eyelids and he looked around. First fact? This is not Linkon nor Skyhaven. Second, he didn’t recognise anything. If this was in fact a dream, his subconsciousness was running wild today. The only thing grounding him was you. Your warmth, your soothing touch and your somewhat familiar scent that he confused with that of MC. It wasn’t as overwhelming or confusing when he could nuzzle up to you for now. Just shortly, only for a bit. To get his mind back on track, you know?

The walk you both took, well- you took with him being carried, was not long lived. You said something but he didn’t pay any attention. Something something not running away something something. Where would he go anyway? For christ sake he was a cat right now. First thing he needs to get rid off anyway. Second thing was to get back home. Like home. Once more begging to the skies above that this was a dream. A very vivid one. Caleb couldn't decide if this was a nightmare or not. Was he maybe more exhausted than he wanted to admit? Did he have an accident on his expedition and was now in a coma? Please let it be just that. Maybe also just cognitive training done by Ever. What does he know?

He heard keys jiggling, a soft clicking of a lock falling back and then a door opening. The ash-brown haired man…uh cat made a run for it. Into the apartment! He stopped in his tracks to get everything in. Analysing your furniture and layout. There was one floor length window that opened up to a small, cozy balcony. A couch in an open space that he guessed was your living room. With a TV mounted to the opposite side of the couch. A lengthy cupboard underneath. On it a few nick-nacks: a charger cable connected to a tablet, a switch console and a bunch of books. The couch itself was decorated with plushies and cushions rounded up with a throw blanket. Some of the walls accented by warm pastel colours to widen the otherwise small space. He peered down one corridor and made out two doors. Guessing one of them was a bathroom and the other your own.

Caleb inspected your walls. The one on the far end and left of the couch was more bookshelf than wall. Filled up almost to the brim but he spotted also there nick-nacks in between. He jumped on the couch arm and continued on another shelf. Slowly getting closer to your kitchen area. Once more he heard you say something. Bla bla not throwing down something. He had half a mind to fuck with you, but again not the opportunity to bite the hand that feeds him. Curious what you meant in the first place he looked back and felt the vase against his body. God it was so weird to see his fluffy legs and a tail too. Dirt clung to the fur and he wondered what he did before he regained his consciousness in that dumpster. But better not test what it would take to make you throw him out back on the street. For all he could know, you could be the one with answers. If not, he could still leave.

Rustling and then a dull thumb. Caleb once more looked back. You all but collapsed on your couch and let out a sigh. Tiredness was written all over your face. Your body practically radiated exhaustion. The ash-brown cat didn’t notice before but how could he? Way too immersed in his own problems. Nonetheless were you kind enough to pick him up. Brave enough to go into that spooky alley. Hell, he wouldn’t have. Not without a gun at least. You also were nice enough to carry him here. Not once complaining. If he dares to say, happy to have him with you. Just as warm as he was. Disregarding that he smelled like the trash he lay in.

Suddenly you moved, like you just remembered something important. As if possessed you scrambled up and reached for your tablet. Okay?

Back to discovering your place he left you to your own devices.

Noises sprung from your tablet. An interesting melody and a woman singing. Just what were you doing? Playing a game? Well, he was done looking at your kitchen that was, well what could be interesting about a kitchen? It was a kitchen. Jumping from the counter to your table and back on the ground he tapped over to you. One last jump on the couch right next to you. What he saw next made his breath hitch.

There she was. His childhood friend. On the screen…with another guy? Did you just took pictures of her with another man? Who was he? Some dude with white hair and a pose slung around his childhood friend. They looked happy together. Frozen in time for the picture. What is going on? Did you know her? How could you do this? How- what? How did you take pictures of her? Switching her poses like that? But why did it look so much like a game? Like a 3D rendering of her? What was going on?

But as soon as he needed to process what he saw, your fingers deftly moved over the screen and collected some rewards in an…event? What? Huh?

“Is it a new bug? Why can’t I select Caleb?”, you mumbled to yourself. Completely oblivious to the distress ball that he was right now. To your own confusion you couldn’t do anything with Caleb in your game besides recalling the memories you have obtained of him.

The head of just mentioned man reared. What was happening? Did you know him? What was this game? Who are you? What is happening?!

Enough, he jumped on your tablet.

“What the- ey!”, you exclaimed and he just meowed back. That's what he wanted to yell right now. What was going on?! Answer him!

“You can’t just- get off!”, you giggled. Not taking his jumbling, confusing emotions and obvious distress seriously.

Okay, different approach. He quickly needed a different approach. Before he could come up with anything you picked him up once more and placed him beside you. Damn him right now for being nothing but an eight pound raging ball of fur. Take him seriously, god damn it! Caleb began to meow again and cursed inside his thoughts. One paw on your tablet, but you giggled again.

“What is it? You also want to play?”, you smiled at him, picked him up. Again. Woman, do it one more time and he is going to forget his rational part about him and would really bite you. He needed answers and not pats. Oh- okay. You placed him on your lap. The tablet on your knees so he could have a good view of it.

“Should I explain it to you?”, you continued on and began showing him everything the game had to offer. Beginning with talking with four different men, battling wanderers in bounty hunting or abyssal chaos up to the “main story”, as you called it, until the memories you collected of said four men. Him included as the fifth. What? Without thinking he raised his paw on “falling for you” and selecting himself. Not half a fuck given that he gave himself away, that he was, in fact, not a cat. That's the whole point though, wasn't it? He was a man! Not a damn cat! He was stuck here. God knows where and you! You just playing with her life, with his! With his life like it was a game?!

These were…all his, well some of them anyway, memories he had with MC. The childhood friend he tried to protect at all costs. Given that his methods weren’t always as pure as he wanted them to be but more often than not necessary. All splayed out for your eyes to see and…rekindle them? Watch them over and over? Relive them?

“Do you like him?”, you asked in a soft voice and he turned to look at you. Totally not caring that he, a cat, was patting on your tablet with human like intelligence. Were you that tired? Half asleep already?

Like him? He was him! How could he tell you that? So that you would explain further. Maybe he could figure out this way how he got here. Wrecking his brain he tried to come up with anything. Fuck it. Fucking dip this cat shit. Even more so than he already has. How blaringly obvious did he need to be? For your rather slow mind to comprehend what he means.

Trying to figure out how to show you, tell you or rather scream at you that this 3D rendering of him was he, he put a paw on his image and then on his furry body. As well as he could at least. Which in result was him patting his image then getting up, sitting on his hind legs and putting his paw on his torso area. Caleb begged to the skies above that you understood his message but to his dismay you looked at him puzzled. Oh his fucking gods…

Alright. Different approach. This was taking all of his patience and he barely had none.

Once more he put one paw on his image that beneath showed a short video out of the perspective of what he only could guess was MC. He didn’t want to think too long about it. Focus. Again he raised his other paw and put it on his chest. This time though he meowed and looked at you imploringly. Please, please let this be enough so you put two and two together. But even he realised that this was rather far-fetched and if this same thing would happen to him, neither would he understand what a cat would try to tell him.

“What is it? Why-”, and then you looked at the screen that froze over the memory. “Hm?”

Oh my god, did you understand? Please!

You looked past his small frame and he could see the thoughts behind your eyes. Yes, yes, yes. Yeah, he was Caleb! Come on. Give him answers!

“Nah”, you giggled. Not knowing what you might have said he just nodded with his head.

“His name is Caleb, should I call you that as well?”, you thought out loud and stroked down from his head to his back.

No! Yes, his name was Caleb but no! God fucking damn it. Just how was he supposed to tell you that Caleb was well- him. He was Caleb. The same man, now a cat in this universe, that you saw on that screen. Distraught, he wrecked his brain. Unfortunate for him there was no book or briefing or training he could have done to prepare him for playing charades as a cat. “How weird would it be if I named you after a otome game video character?”, you sighed. “God, I must be very lonely to even be considering that.” Maybe, but not the point here, woman. You could question your terrible life choices another time but right now, he needed you to figure out his image riddle!

~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*~~~*~~~*.~~~*

Henlo, to everybody that made it all the way down here! I plan on making this a multi part story, so stay tunned! If anybody has some cat involved stuff and want to see it here, don't be too shy to tell me about it <3

Thank you for reading, beautiful soul

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #reader x caleb #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff

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dynamo-of-fake-twin-brother-fame · 2 days ago

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So my brain doesn't make the chemical that gets you to SIT STILL while asleep. Or at least.... It does make it, but not nearly enough. So while some people with the same sleep issues as me need railings to keep them from rolling out of bed, I just kinda... Wiggle. Rotate like a rotisserie chicken. Burrito myself. Un rotisserie chicken. Un burrito. Wiggle. End up (sometimes) with my feet up where my head is supposed to be. This is why I tend to collect a lot of stuff down around the foot of my bed. Boxes of magic cards, clothes I've only worn once so far, for an hour, so they're still clean, extra blankets and coats, boxes of mtg cards, journals.... They trick my brain into not flipping around the wrong way when I'm sleeping. I'll still curl and uncurl like a demonic pill bug, but I don't end up with my feet on my pillow.

And for the longest time, I didn't know that was a thing. I just thought that's how people slept. Evolution's way of keeping us safe at our most vulnerable. Cuz if you keep moving around when you sleep, things that want to eat prey in it's sleep will think we aren't. It wasn't until I went on a trip with a young girls group back when I was still in it and we shared beds in the hotel that my bedmate (I think her name was Angela. Or Amelia? I can distinctly remember her face and the dress she wore for meetings) mentioned I 'moved around a lot in my sleep'. Like, I noticed she DIDN'T move around a lot, and I thought that was something humans tried to do when they shared a bed (I'd never had to share a bed with anyone before, that I can remember, outside of maybe sleeping with my parents when I was really small and had a nightmare) so I did try to stay... More still. Until I fell asleep properly and lost control of the unconscious urge to spin.

I'm wiggly when I sleep. I wobble. I spin. I rotate like a jpeg in a PowerPoint presentation animation. And this means that during the time your brain is supposed to be recharging... Mine just kinda half-asses it. Like a charging cable that's old and bent so you gotta hold your phone *juuuuuuuust* right to charge it. And I have found out (with some outside help) that the anxiety (that crazy anxiety that's so bad I have to medicate) makes it worse. If I'm anxious, I'm more wiggly than usual. If I'm calm, I'm less wiggly. I also find I'm less wiggly in the cold months when I've got eighteen pounds of blanketry on me.

(I do think it's kinda funny that the original state of our brains is WIGGLE. Like, our brains evolved to produce a chemical that stops WIGGLE, but if you've had a traumatic brain injury or your brain just doesn't produce that chemical, it'll reset to WIGGLE MODE. And WIGGLE MODE is the less optimal setting. Humans were badly designed in a high school engineering class, and the four students keep having to fuck with the code to fix things, but every change to the code fucks up something else.)

But all this to say -- there are some days I wake up, and I'm just bone-tired. I want to immediately go back to bed. Because the wiggles were with me the night before. It sounds funnier talking about it like it's some sort of old-timey affliction like Victorian wasting sickness rather than saying my brain is more caveman-y than normal. Because that's... Kinda what's going on. The original, caveman brain had WIGGLE MODE ACTIVE. And it's exhausting. So it's understandable why life expectancy wasn't as long back then. Our bodies just... Ran outta juice faster back then.

Whenever I take a long car ride I end up exhausted afterwards, and I’m always like “why am I so tired? I was just sitting around doing nothing all day.”

But the answer, it turns out, is I was doing something. Riding in a car jars your body in many directions and requires constant microadjustments of your muscles just to stay in place and hold your normal posture. Because you’re inside the car, inside the situation, it’s easy not to notice all the extra work you’re doing just to maintain the status quo.

There’s all sorts of type of work that we think of as “free” that require spending energy: concentrating, making decisions, managing anxiety, maintaining hypervigilance in an unfriendly environment, dealing with stereotype threat, processing a lot of sensory input, repairing skin cells damaged sun exposure, trying to stay warm in a cold room.

The next time you think you’re tired from “nothing”, consider instead that you’re probably in situation where you’re doing a lot of unnoticed extra work just to stay in place.

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slitheringghost · 21 hours ago

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Death Eater Recruitment Age During The First War

In this meta I'll talk about Voldemort's strategy in recruiting underage Death Eaters. Fandom often portrays teenage Death Eaters like Snape, Evan Rosier, etc as officially joining Voldemort after they graduate or, at best, their 7th year.

But the most logical conclusion is that Death Eaters recruited as teenagers would have been required to take the Mark at 16 and no later - at earliest Christmas break of 5th year and at latest the summer after 5th year. Regulus joining at 16 wasn't an exception or an anomaly - it was the expectation and the norm.

Additionally, younger Death Eaters’ age during the First War is cited as reasons they couldn’t have committed violent war crimes in the short time they were Death Eaters, but this too is contradicted by canon. I’ll go through the evidence for these points below.

1.0 Voldemort’s strategy

Firstly, I really don't know why people think Voldemort would have qualms about making 16 year olds murder and torture - given that Tom Riddle himself had murdered 4 people by the time he was 16 (killing the Riddles summer after his 4th year at 15 years old) as well as tortured students ("nasty incidents") with his gang.

Yes, many characters in HBP claim that there’s no way Draco was marked because he’s only 16 and still in school - but the whole point is that they’re wrong, that Draco WAS Marked at 16, that Voldemort thought Hogwarts was a good recruiting ground, that he was creating child soldiers. The whole point is to recruit them young - when they're most vulnerable and malleable.

On the other hand, it's unlikely that they were allowed to be Marked younger than 16 - Regulus was eager to join years before he was Marked, so if there was a way for him to be initiated sooner, he would've taken it. From Voldemort's POV, he'd want the Black heir under his control, so he would've Marked Regulus as early as was possible under Death Eater protocol. (Sirius also runs away at 16, so it’s a possibility that this had to do with Voldemort recruiting him at that age.)

So presumably, Voldemort chose an age where they're young enough to be easily manipulated, but old enough to be competent as Death Eaters.

(While Tom killed his family a year earlier, his proto-Death Eater gang was involved in their first murder together at the same age - Myrtle end of their 5th year; which imo was accidental but fits the tradition).

But once they reach that age - there's no stalling. Future teenage Death Eaters would be trained for maybe months, maybe years, before finally taking the Mark at 16.

Voldemort wants his army and he wants it now. You don't get to wait around to take the mark. Even marking a Death Eater at 17 vs. 16 is a whole entire year of the war wasted where Voldemort could have them under his control and doing useful things for him.

(It's possible the recruiting pace was a bit slower pre-war, but once the war started Voldemort needed as many Death Eaters as he could get.)

Certainly no important pureblood heir would be marked later than 16. Marking an heir means Voldemort has solidified his control over that family’s wealth and political/magical resources (at least in future).

Despite being Hogwarts students, teenage Death Eaters still have substantial windows of time when they could be committing crimes for Voldemort - 2 months of summer; 1 month combining Christmas/Easter breaks; Hogsmeade weekends; maybe ways of sneaking out other weekends. (Even many adult Death Eaters do have day jobs and keep up appearances of normal lives.)

They could also get a lot done at Hogwarts itself - spywork (i.e. out muggleborns hiding their status, similarly gather info on political enemies via other students), magical research (esp. given they have access to the Hogwarts library which Voldemort doesn’t - presumably, this is a library as coveted as pureblood libraries), invent things and experiment (i.e. Snape inventing Levicorpus which we know the Death Eaters used), and most notably, commit war crimes on campus.

Examples include Mulciber and Avery torturing Mary Macdonald with Dark Magic - which clearly wasn’t an isolated incident - and Snape having used Sectumsempra so often at Hogwarts it became known as his specialty. This is the kind of terror junior Death Eaters would be expected to perform on campus during the war.

Then there's the Dark Mark itself. The way the Death Eaters are bound to Voldemort parallels house-elf enslavement contract, and the Dark Mark is the main way of enforcing it - it’s a tracking device (per Karkaroff), a communication device, a means of control, a way to make sure you don't escape. So of course Voldemort would want to brand his followers as soon as he could. (see also: this meta on the Dark Mark by @artemisia-black)

2.0 Examples

Regulus (waiting to join years earlier) took the Mark at 16. Draco, Marked the summer after his 5th year, only a month or two after he turned 16. Barty Jr. was 19 in 1982 during the Longbottom trial, so it's a reasonable extrapolation that he too was Marked at 16, particularly since he was very dedicated and loyal to Voldemort and would've been desperate to join ASAP. As Lucius was clearly instrumental in recruiting Snape (and logically there have to be Death Eaters on campus recruiting), I assume he was Marked by the time the Marauders entered Hogwarts, so likely Marked at 16 too.

Then there's the fact that the Death Eaters is a multigenerational cult and that Voldemort expects the kids of his Death Eaters to join - examples are Mulciber, Avery, Rosier. These kids were essentially born into the cult and inherited being a Death Eater, they've known since childhood that they would be expected to take the Mark, and perhaps were trained for it very early, so there's no reason they wouldn't be Marked at 16.

Of course, not all Death Eaters are recruited underage, there are plenty recruited as adults - when you're recruited matters when Voldemort actually notices you, or when he needs you (i.e. Peter was recruited much later on, purely as a spy). Other exceptions to the “Marked at 16” rule would be if the Death Eater isn't politically useful enough (heirs from less powerful pureblood families etc) and if they weren't talented enough by 16 and would require more training.

Regarding Snape specifically, he became friends with Lucius Malfoy as soon as he entered Hogwarts, and stayed friends with the Malfoys long into his adult years. Lucius would've been the main one to bring him into Death Eater circles (particularly since Lucius would've graduated Snape's first or second year, and the rest of their contact had to be out of school, perhaps Lucius inviting him to events with Death Eaters, etc.)

His friendship with his gang - Mulciber, Avery, Rosier - would function likewise, especially because they're not just any junior Death Eaters, they're the children of Tom Riddle's original gang. So, Snape was pulled into the network of pretty high ranking Death Eaters from the very start.

Snape's talent was also apparent to everyone from the get go (i.e. Sirius’s statement that Snape was famous for the Dark Arts at school, and as a first year knew more curses than half the kids in 7th year). Therefore, he would’ve been on the Death Eaters’ radar long before SWM, and there’s no reason for them to wait until then to recruit and train him. Most likely he was training under Voldemort as his student his 5th year, perhaps even 4th year, and then took the Mark summer after 5th year. (In this fic, he's already taken it by SWM, because teen Death Eaters take the Mark their first school holiday after turning 16, which was 5th year Christmas break for Snape, which is an interesting and believable scenario).

And no, his status as a poor halfblood wouldn't be an issue - canonically Voldemort makes poor Death Eaters high ranking (Snape, Amycus, Alecto), as well as female Death Eaters.

This, of course, conflicts with a certain narrative parts of fandom want to push about Snape being driven to the Death Eaters due to the Marauders’ bullying and Lily breaking off the friendship - because in any realistic scenario the Death Eaters would have recruited him long before this happened.

Regarding the level of violence teenage Death Eaters commit, it makes sense to me that you'd have to kill to be Marked - Voldemort is not going to have his Death Eaters hesitate before killing and mess up his missions (Additionally, once they’ve committed crimes for him he could use exposing them as a threat to keep them in line). I HC that you have to cast all three Unforgiveables on a victim to be Marked.

So, this means that all your faves like Regulus, Snape, Evan, Barty, that fandom often whitewashes, did in fact commit many violent war crimes while they were Death Eaters. Potentially Draco is the exception to this wrt actual murder (we know he's using the Imperius and Cruciatus 6th year), though it's always possible Voldemort made him murder someone off screen and we just didn't see it. (ETA: It’s also a misconception that Draco being Marked was only to punish Lucius - the punishment was that Draco was assigned a suicide mission that he couldn’t possibly succeed at in being ordered to kill Dumbledore. It’s likely he would’ve been Marked even without those circumstances.)

As more examples of this, even Crabbe and Goyle - who were not Marked or trained as official Death Eaters - are torturing first years with the Cruciatus their entire 7th year under the instruction of the Carrows, and presumably students in the years below them were also forced to do the same. (Crabbe also tries to cast an Avada Kedavra, so it's possible he murdered someone for the Death Eaters outside of campus.) This is further proof that Death Eaters have no issue making underage students commit violent war crimes.

3.0 Conclusion

We can extrapolate from the known numbers we have - Lucius Malfoy in his year, 3-5 Death Eaters in the Marauders' year (Mulciber, Avery, Snape, Rosier, Wilkes), Barty Jr. in the year below, Regulus in the year below that - that there were a few wannabe and/or actually Marked Death Eaters in every class year during the war.

So, Hogwarts during the first war wasn't just full of Wannabe Death Eaters - it was also full of actual Death Eaters who were already actively murdering and torturing others.

And this contextualizes the Marauders' actions in their Hogwarts years, and why they would've been pushed to that kind of violence to protect others on campus. (read more about that in this meta)

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dellamortethelesser · 2 days ago

Text

The Wigmaker Job

Notes and Thoughts - Part 3

pt1 | pt2 | pt3 | pt4 | pt5

DISCLAIMER: These posts I'm doing are my own analyses and are done with the intentional eye to examine the relationship between Lucanis and Illario. I try to source all my assertions from what the text is giving me. This is not Lucanis critical nor should it be taken as such.

Going to be a shorter post today because I have things to do this morning!

Starting off strong in the next scene with me… loving on the fashion notes <3 So glad to know that we get stiletto heels clicking against cobblestone. Surely hoping that no magister twists their ankle and falls and breaks their fucking neck because their shoe got caught in a gap!

Also, velveteen is in? Someone who knows fabrics weigh in and tell me if that would be an appropriate material for the climate.

"So the Wigmaker. Tell me about him." / "He's weird." ← Lucanis goes on to say that he 'finds the moment before a job crucial for focus, but Illario was never one for comfortable silence'. To me, that beggars the explanation that the following passage is Illario goading him a bit.

I: "Specifics, cousin. No one hires us to kill normal people." L: "I gave you a dossier." I: "Yes, but I want your assessment." L: "I wrote it. It is my assessment." I: "Humor me." L: "You'll see soon enough."

There was a little bit of debate in my previous post about whether or not Illario actually read Lucanis's dossier. I don't think that the text supports that interpretation, but everyone is allowed to interpret what they want.

I'll argue that Illario has read the dossier: throughout the story up until this point, Illario has made comments about the job that implies he has SOME understanding of what they are doing—even going out of his way to make arrangements with a tailor so that he can be prepared for the part of the contract that Lucanis asked him to help with.

He knows that they need to be in Minrathous, at a party, facing a 'premiere wigmaker', and aware of the fact that they're up against Venatori. He knew they needed to be at a mansion and all of this comes up previous to this point when asking about Lucanis's assessment.

Additionally, asking for more clarification on something that someone else wrote is actually normal when the plan has clearly changed several times. Illario has increasingly expressed confusion on how the navigation is being handled, and, when asking for more information, is specifically asking after the Wigmaker himself, not the entire plan.

Also, the narrator is telling us that Lucanis prefers to be quiet while Illario likes to talk. It was pointed out to the me that this is close third POV, so why would the narrator bring that difference up, and not reference the idea that Illario has a tendency to not read documents?

(A few paragraphs later, while balancing on the rooftops, it's stated that 'At least Illario was too busy concentrating to ask questions'.) ← I wonder why he'd need to ask so many… I'm not trying to be snarky, but I am trying to make a point and using the text to support it. This also is NOT Lucanis crit and I'm worried some people are interpreting it as such.

The commentary from Lucanis about the previous Minrathous parties is insane btw. Retching vases? Acrobats? An orgy? No wonder they kept us in Dock Town in VG… (shakes fist)

First mention of Lucanis's sensitivity toward the Veil. "The backs of his eyeballs itched like he hadn't blinked in days". I think he says this primarily about blood magic at some point in VG? Which tracks and keeps up with WMJ.

"Something's wrong." / "Yeah. We're up here, away from the fun." ← insane of illario to say this i'm sorry. bro there are blood mages down there.

L: "Focus." I: "I am." L: "On the job." I: "To be fair, you never told me the plan."

You guys get it at this point. (That last sentence loops back up to my previous point… Illario has read the dossier. He knows the contract. He does NOT know how Lucanis is going to HANDLE it beyond what he's been asked to do re: getting Lucanis inside).

Lucanis shrugged. "Find Ambrose. Slit his throat." "Sounds complicated." "It will be. The Veil's thin here. Thinner than I expected."

Illario seems pretty fine with this explanation so I am not going to keep dragging it out. I do like how in-tune Lucanis seems to be with his abilities! I wish we could've seen more of that in VG; iirc he doesn't comment on the state of the Veil or magic very often?

This is the part of the story where we get to see their back-and-forth and how Illario is a bit of a rake! Which I personally enjoy. I love a manwhore (*said affectionately). Sorry.

"Plenty of time for some good, old-fashioned debauch—" I think he's funny. And maybe a bit distracted.

The narrator describes Ambrose as 'of average height and build' which is a description that pisses me off when fanfic does it and published works are not immune to my ire. What the hell is 'average'. That's so subjective.

The rest of the description is nice, though: hawkish gold eyes and a jaw that could break teeth. ← I know I said this was a breakdown of the brothercousin dynamic but I need to weigh in on other things sometimes. <3 Heart.

"They're never what you envision, are they?" Illario noted. "What did you expect?" "Hair, for one. Maybe a funny little dog." That got a chuckle out of Lucanis, if only briefly.

Stop being funny!!! I do like this banter back and forth because this feels like it's the least… leaden with underlying, complicated dynamics? I like it a lot and it feels natural for them.

Making notes on the fashion of the guard-captain. 'She wore an emerald gown with a high-waisted, low-tiered skirt and a fitted tulle bodice studded with champagne-colored crystals. Metallic body paint shimmered on her exposed arms and legs'. ← Fascinating.

It sounds like it might be a reference to the women's fashion from the Tevinter concept art. Bit gaudy.

Also it's described as silk-brocade. AGAIN PEOPLE WHO KNOW FABRICS WEIGH IN.

[shrek meme] she's not even wearing velveteen.

Lucanis "I need those keys" Dellamorte and Illario "your wish is my command, cousin" Dellamorte you will always be famous to me. Also it says that Illario 'flipped forward' which . why are we doing all that

Quotes are either paraphrased or taken directly from The Wigmaker Job, written by Courtney Woods.

#dragon age #dragon age analysis #dragon age meta #tevinter nights #the wigmaker job #my analysis #long post #illario dellamorte #lucanis dellamorte #house dellamorte (meta)

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celeste-clearwater-06 · 2 days ago

Text

The Kitchen Window (pt. 2)

(Bayverse! Raphael x F! Reader)

desc- (raph keeps coming to see you, much to his older brothers' distaste, meanwhile you're making a few new friends.)

warnings - none, some swearing (to be expected

word count - 3.1k

READ PT 1. HERE

“You went back to see her?!”

Raph rubs a hand in a downward swipe against his face, pulling his lower eyelids dramatically. He knew this was coming.

“She was being attacked!” He counters, “Am I just supposed to just stand around like an ass? Is that what you want me to do, Leo?”

He was a hot-headed, ass-kicking, crime fighting, vigilante. Still nothing could save him from the wrath of his older brother squawking like a mother hen whenever he got the chance. Ever the virtuous leader.

“You went back Raph, saving her or not,”

Leonardo always talked with his hands when he was scolding his younger brothers. Raph quietly wondered if that dramatic swing of his arm was helping with trying to get his point across. The two stood in the airy living area of the lair, close enough to keep tension.

“Okay, so I went back,” he mirrors his older brother’s theatrics, uncrossing his arms and waving them outwards, “What if I hadn’t? What’s the harm in stoppin some creep tryna reach through some chick’s window?”

The elder of them huffs out a dramatic sigh and pinches the bridge of his beak. It makes Raph’s throat burn. It’s condescending. He hates when Leo does that.

“We stopped taking that route for a reason, Raph. She could take our picture, find out where we are-“

“It’s ONE girl! One person, Lee. Just a chick who happened to see me!” Raph cuts through Leonardo’s harsh tone, louder and escalating, stepping a firm foot forward to emphasize his voice.

“And one is all it takes for us to slip up.”

“What about April, huh? She’s one chick.”

“We know April. That was pure luck. Anyone else could be the reason the rest of the world figures out where we are! What we are. We’re not normal, Raph.”

Raphael can only roll his eyes to cope. He knows his older brother is right, at least about that. Nobody just forgets seeing a masked mutant turtle staring right at them.

He remembers the moment he crawled out of the sewers, behind the rest of his brothers and being the one to close the manhole cover while they all made way towards the top of the building. When he lifted himself to the slick balcony in a quick pull of the ladder. The wet metal almost made him lose his footing and he just happened to look to his left, right into your mortified, gawking stare. So much for that ridiculous ‘ninja’ title. He was a deer in headlights under that unblinking gaze, just barely lit by a light somewhere in the room behind you. Raph took the opportunity to scramble up the ladder like an idiot when you fell backwards into the dark. He couldn’t even process the clatter of one of his twin weapon’s falling from his belt, trying to get away, with heavy breaths.

Stupid, stupid! Some fuckin joke this was.

His brothers already know something’s happened when they saw him grasping to get word out with eyes practically bugging from his skull.

“Dude, you good?”

Mikey was the first to notice his older brother falling behind the rest. Raph nearly trips over his sandaled feet, regaining balance as he glances over his shoulder, ensuring to weren’t following him up the fire escape.

“What? What happened?” Leo scanned over his younger brother with concern, eyes darting from his shocked face to his feet that scuffed the cement roof.

“Raph.” Donnie’s head quirks to the side a little, “What’s wrong?”

At first he can’t get any words out, usual wit and snide gone. Raphael’s shock had apparently rendered him speechless.

“I-I… she-“

“Someone saw you.”

He doesn’t nod, doesn’t shake his head. Leo’s stare at Raph’s dumbstruck face is confirmation enough.

“What’s the biggie?” Mikey’s voice indicates his nonchalance, “People see us all the time?”

His question goes unanswered.

“Did she see us get out of there?” Donnie cuts in.

“I-I don't know! I just hopped up on the platform, and she was just-just there!”

He’s scrambling to explain before Leo intervenes, tone stern and demanding.

“In the alley? Where?”

“In her apartment! She was standin there!”

They all go quiet, exchanging worried glances. Gradually, Mikey is put under the hardening, disappointed glares of his three older brothers. A nervous chuckle escapes him before he tries to plead his case.

“Guys-“

“Mike, you told us nobody lived in this complex.” Donnie speaks first.

“I did!” the youngest held his hands up in surrender, “The lights are always off, I thought they were empty!”

“You didn’t think anything, idiot!” Raph’s open hand makes contact with the back of Mikey’s head and he swats it away with a shout.

“Ow! I really didn’t think anyone lived here, dude, I swear!”

Leo groans and turns to curse up at the light-polluted sky.

“She could’ve seen us crawl out of there Mikey!”

“Or not! We’ve never even seen her there!” Mike flinches, expecting another swipe from his older brother. It doesn’t come.

“Yeah until now, dumbass,”

Whack. There it was.

“She was gawking straight at my face, and that was when she was right up against damn glass. Who knows how long that chick has been livin there.”

Donnie and Leo turn over to him, making him the center of their chastising again.

“How long were you standing there?”

The red banded brother rolls his eyes with his whole body, arms raising and flopping back down to his sides defeatedly.

“Man, I don’t know! A couple seconds! She tripped backwards and I just took off!”

Leo’s huff of annoyance is plenty to send Raph reeling.

“I couldn’t fuckin’ help it! If Mikey had maybe done a little deep dive, we coulda figured out another exit before all this bullshit.”

“Well we’re gonna need to find another route regardless. If she knows where we came from, she might try and follow us down.”

Donnie pulls out his tablet before he finishes his sentence, already typing a million buttons a second, while his siblings cluelessly scrounge for any ideas their heads can throw together.

“Maybe we could talk to her!”

Mikey’s idea is immediately shut down with three, gruff ‘No’s’. He crosses his arms with a pout.

“Bad idea,” Leo’s quick to make a point, “We don’t know her. What her intentions are.”

Raph doesn’t say it out loud, but the expressions plastered on your face read more like a clueless, horrified bystander than some mutant stalker.

“I think I found a better route for us.”

Donnie’s face is still lit with the blue light coming from his device, pointing at something they can’t see. Leo doesn’t give it a second thought. He’s already moving to the opposite end of the rooftop.

“We better get going. Can’t risk anyone following us,” he waves an arm, “we can talk about this more back at base.”

Donnie and Mikey pursue with no hesitation, leaving Raph to stand there with a stupid look on his face for a moment. He turns to look at where the ends of the ladder meet the ledge of the building in thought. Maybe he was expecting your frightened eyes peeking over. Maybe. He sighs, and then follows his brothers in a full sprint to leap across another alleyway, starting the late night hours of his patrol.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

“We have oat milk, and regular dairy, ma’am.”

Your patience has already worn thin, 4 hours into the full day shift you’re taking head on. A middle aged woman is giving you a nasty glare from across the counter.

“You’re telling me that a chain business cafe doesn’t have any soy options?”

“Unfortunately, no miss,” that apologetic, customer-service smile is slowly coming undone, “I can offer you oat milk, or if you’d like, we have plenty of other non-coffee options for you to take a look at.”

She sneers and mumbles something about having a chai latte under the name of Diane and shoves a 5 dollar bill and some loose change into your hand for you to punch into the register. How lovely.

The ticket prints and you stick it to the back of the glass display case for your other singular coworker to start making.

No wonder you were understaffed. No one would wish the horrors of working the food industry upon their worst enemy. This was the third extra shift you’d picked up this month, and man was it getting exhausting. Regardless, the money was more than enough to cover rent in that shabby apartment, and get your nails done every once in a while. Until you could get a “real job” (whatever that entailed) it would suffice.

Thankfully, a Tuesday morning was slow enough for you to catch your breath between rude customers and over complicated orders, so you take your time opening the money drawer and putting each cent in its own compartment. You don’t look up when the bell to the front door tinks.

“Look who it is.”

You could pick up that annoying voice from a mile away. Still, you can’t help your smile, looking up to see your brother’s stupid grin and horrible fashion taste, passing through the open doorway with ridiculous confidence, and a beautiful woman to his left. She shoots you a smile.

“Hey stranger.”

Vern struts up to the front counter with a warm greeting.

“You look horrible.”

Your tongue clicks.

“So nice to see you too.”

There’s nothing to counter that with. Little, to no, sleep is apparent beneath your eyes even with the makeup you repeatedly put in every morning. The low effort, company-policy, ponytail probably also does nothing to aid your appearance.

“I miss seeing you around.” His poor apology is accompanied with the offer of a fist bump that you turn into a snail with two fingers. Your secret handshake.

“Could pay me a visit if you miss me that bad.”

It’s the normal, uninteresting flow of your conversations, not that you minded too much. That's the way you and Vern had always been, even before he moved. Before he can interject with his usual excuse of ‘just being a busy guy’, you point your attention to the woman with a little too much enthusiasm. She’s been watching with a curious eye.

“You gonna introduce me to your hot friend?”

She laughs softly and lends her well manicured hand, along with a name that suits her pretty face. April. You accept it, and then offer yours.

Vern’s confidence is already shot out the window.

“April, this is my little sister.”

“Younger sister.”

You correct him. Barely an inch shorter than Vern ’The Man’ Fenwick was not little.

“Right, younger. This is her, uh, cafe I was telling you all about.”

Your brother had such a way with words.

“Vern, it’s not my cafe, I’m just the floor manager.”

“Awh, come on, you practically own the place.”

A nicer apartment in the upper streets of New York would be your home if you ‘owned the place’. But you bite your tongue, indulging in his attempt to make you look at least a little cooler than you actually were.

“Okay, order a drink before I kick you out.”

While Vern takes his happy time staring at the overhead menu, you make small talk with April. She’s a reporter, covering news about all the weird happenings around New York. Way more interesting than your job standing at a register all day. The chat continues as you type in a latte for your older brother and the same for her.

Up comes the topic of last weekend, when that man tried to pull you through your kitchen window. You leave out the part with the giant turtle monster, for more than obvious reasons, but the story is still surprising and concerning to both Vern and April. They shoot each other similar looks that feel a little more than odd to you.

“Some guy stopped him?”

You nod, focusing on lidding the hot cups rather than the topic at hand.

“Yeah. Just knocked his sorry ass off the fire escape and then took off. I didn’t really see what he looked like.”

Liar.

“It sounds a little crazy,” you admit. You draw a smiley face on April’s cup, and a frown on Vern’s.

“I know enough about feeling crazy,”

April’s condolence brings you to meet her eyes with an understanding smile.

“I appreciate it.”

You want to change the topic suddenly.

”So, a family discount for you,” Vern takes his drink from your hand, “And a having-to-put-up-with-his-sorry-ass discount for you.”

Your brother scoffs when April takes the drink and grins up at him.

“We should get going. It was good seeing you, kiddo.”

“You too, Vern. Call me! Or text. Or whatever.”

He leaves the door before April does, with a wave of his free hand. She peeks her head through the closing door.

“Keep me posted. Maybe we can find whoever your guy was.”

A nod from you is what finally sends the two outside, where you can see Vern dramatically burn his mouth on the hot cup and April strutting past him with an embarrassed shake of her head.

Idiot.

It was a nice visit, but way too short for your liking. The day dragged on into the evening, when you let your younger coworker head home early. She’s worked her ass off all day and she excitedly thanked you, rushing out the door while you filled up the mop bucket. Closing took just as long as the day, if not longer to do, but it was finally done. You didn’t relax until hearing the lock click with a turn of the keys, and your shoulders slumped with a heavy sigh.

The walk home was just as repetitive as shutting down the shop. A few short blocks from your place, with the still traffic packed streets and massive cityscape that swallowed your simple little life. Your feet ached. Your eyes strained.

And that lonely, dark, apartment was still waiting for you like always when you pushed the door open and shuffled inside.

Shoes kicked off. Jacket thrown on the couch. Your nice, comfy bed just down the hall. That soft comforter was beckoning your name.

And so was a noise outside of your closed kitchen window. Figures.

No scrape of metal though, or footsteps up the fire escape. It was a loud yowl.

You can barely make out a scrappy little cat sitting on the rail of the fire escape.

You all but run over to slide the window open, and shed some warm kitchen light on her silvery fur. A quiet meow is all you get from her.

“Hi sweet baby.” You coo. She seems interested, but doesn’t move. You’re still hesitant to stick your arm out past the window, so you make a little ‘pspsps’ noise to beckon her over, which seems to work for a split second. When the cat stands to her dainty paws, she freezes, eyes and ears pricking upwards.

You know what she’s hearing.

“Come here kitty! Come on!”

You can’t bring yourself to stop her head from lifting, and then make a sad, soft whine when she hops down and makes her way up the steel steps with a meow.

And your thoughts were easily confirmed.

“Go on, get back down there.”

His voice is hushed, stern. It’s almost comedic. It’s none of your business, but you call out anyway.

“I know you’re up there.”

Silence.

“You don’t know shit.”

Okay, rude.

“Will you bring her down?”

It’s quiet again, longer than before. Enough to make you think he’s gone. But then, the metal sways back and forth just a bit before his feet thud down in front of your window. Mr. ‘Your Worst Nightmare’ is holding the cat in one of his arms, the other bracing himself on the rail. She's purring. You can’t see his face from where you’re standing, but he holds her out, three fingered hand outstretched just in front of the opening, where she calmly climbs down to sit on the brick outer sill.

“Is she yours?”

You swallow nervously.

“She is now.”

The turtle lets out a sort of gruff snort. You’re surprised when he leans down to stroke her. This is the clearest you’ve seen his face in the light bleeding out of the kitchen. It was rude to stare. You just couldn’t rip your eyes away. The way his brow bone furrowed looking at her curiously shaped face and missing ear. His scales were a deep veridian, scattered with scars, like the prominent one above his upper lip. He was chewing a toothpick that jutted out of the side of his mouth.

“Kinda cute.”

It was a fascinating thing, the way the wall separated you both, a human and an otherworldly creature, and yet this tiny kitchen window allowed for both paths to be crossed, admiring a sweet stray cat. His skin jumps a little when your hands just slightly graze past each other. His eyes flick to yours and then away and you avert yours back down to her licking her front paw.

The quiet moment fleets, when he stands just as suddenly as he leaned forward, moving with an awkward cough. And your eyes still stay on him. There’s a dark, spiraling tattoo on his upper right arm that you could see much better in the light.

He’s about to say something but the static whine of a radio comes from somewhere outside.

“Raphael, do you copy?” It’s one of the voices you had heard the night before, and he jumps at the noise before reaching up to his shoulder to click a button on the walkie talkie.

“Yeah! yeah I hear ya.” He whispers sharply into it and waits for a response.

Raphael.

“We’ve got a robbery at one of the banks, on St. Peter’s Avenue. Could use some backup,”

“‘Kay. Headin over.”

He leans back down, gaze’s locking, and trips over his words.

“You uh… you stay safe.”

All you can do is nod your head stupidly and he’s gone once again. The cat’s little trill is what pulls you from staring where he once stood. You smile softly down at her and lift her inside.

“Let’s get you warm, miss girl,” she purrs in your arms when you scratch behind her ear, “I’ll grab you some food tomorrow. And a litter box. You better not shit on my floor.”

Meow.

The next morning when you leave for your shift, you don’t miss the fuzzy little cat toy that’s sitting just outside the kitchen window.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

HERE'S PART TWO!!! THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE SUPPORT ON MY LAST POST, IT MEANS EVERYTHING TO MEEEE 🩷💓💕 ngl i already have the next two chapters written out and waiting to be edited cause I've been so excited to see where this story goes 😭😭 DON'T FORGET TO REBLOG!! IT HELPS THIS REACH THE RIGHT AUDIENCE!!

lemme know if you want to be added to the below listed taglist so you don't miss out!!!

THANK YOU BABES 💓💕🩷🫧🧼

taglist - [ @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @milkytheholy1 @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell @fyreball66 @redsrooftopprincess @milykins ]

#xreader #tmnt raphael #tmnt bayverse #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse tmnt #tmnt x reader #bayverse raphael #tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt 2014 #part 2

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lobautumny · 47 minutes ago

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Not to mention shit like the speakers that are installed in a bunch of public spaces that play extremely loud sounds at a very high pitch that are specifically designed to not be audible to adults but to be extremely uncomfortable for children, to dissuade "dangerous antisocial behaviors" like... loitering. The horror.

A bunch of shitty adults act like it's remotely surprising that kids don't go outside and hang out with their friends anymore when, like, how and when and where are they supposed to do that? This toy knows your ass is too lazy to drive your kids anywhere that isn't on the way to somewhere that you wanted to go anyways more than once per month, and nearly a century of constant "you can't trust your neighbors" propaganda (red scare, gang fearmongering, muslim fearmongering, drug fearmongering, etc.) has left a ton of adults terrified of every unattended child they see outside, as well as being increasingly unwilling to let their own kids out of their sight for anything other than going to school. Also, when a given kid does have the means to hang out with friends on a regular basis, where do they have that they can go other than each other's houses? God knows that for the last several decades, the economy's been too shit for average working-class parents to give their kids an allowance, everything is extremely expensive, and there's never been less options for places kids can simply exist and hang out at outside.

Of fucking course kids are sitting inside on they phone all the damn time. They don't have anything else to do. Adults drove them away from everything else they could be doing because allowing children to exist anywhere is just too much of a hassle for anyone to bother dealing with. I mean, fuck, kids (especially non-white kids) can't even fucking play with toys outside anymore without running the risk of a cop shooting them in the head because they thought the bright orange Nerf blaster was a real gun (treated as a simple mistake, the cop gets suspended for a couple months and then gets to return to the force like nothing happened).

The fact of the matter is that the world in which we currently live fucking hates children. Children aren't treated as people. They're treated as political pawns, scapegoats, or property at best, and active threats at worst. Their suffering doesn't matter until they die, but then when they die, it's always "a freak tragedy that we simply could not have anticipated and cannot do anything to prevent future instances of." It's all reduced to abstract numbers that adults can shake their heads at, pretend to feel bad for a while, and then proceed to do fucking nothing about while another school gets shot up every week, and we all pretend it's normal because nobody wants to fucking address the fact that the way we treat children is beyond disgusting and unhealthy. We talk all the time about the online child grooming epidemic, cleverly point out how social media algorithms massively contribute to the problem and the platforms themselves knowingly do nothing about it, and then we all collectively shrug and look the other way. "Not my problem to deal with," everyone collectively says in unison. "It's not my kid," they say, until it is their kid, at which point it's yet another fucking "freak tragedy that could not have been prevented," and so it goes.

But god forbid a kid says they're queer and receives anything other than brutal punishment and bullying for it. Then, suddenly, by magic, everyone is an activist, everyone is a fucking expert on the online grooming problem as though they aren't so tech-illiterate that they're falling for AI boomerslop on Facebook, and everyone has a PhD in biology, and everyone has Opinions and is calling up their local legislators asking for quick, decisive action to be taken against this new social contagion corrupting our youth and for kids to be ripped away from their supportive parents and put into abusive foster programs. This toy knows that it has long since left the scope of the original point, but it's just so fucking angry. Ever since it was in middle school, it's known more people who were abused as kids or otherwise have extremely strenuous relationships with the adults in their lives than people who had what most people would try to convince you was a "normal" childhood in which they developed remotely positive relationships with the adults around them and were not abused and did not develop immense trauma as the direct result of shitty actions taken by malicious, stupid, or neglectful adults in their lives.

Children deserve far better than the world we have forced them to live in.

"kids these days don't loiter or act rebellious enough any more" kids just existing in public are more criminalized and surveilled than ever. almost every western country is running a panic about youth crime and how random teens standing awkwardly are a threat to civilization, and pushing for much more punitive laws. tons of states and powerful lobbies are pushing "parental right laws" that restrict the civil rights of minors even more. policing is first and foremost targeting youths, especially from low income and majority immigrant neighbourhoods. if a kid mildly steps out of line or says something awkward online or in a public space half a dozen people can whip up their phone and start mass harassment campaigns. and tech companies are now restricting access to the internet, the last way many teens can talk to each other freely and reach out to people outside family and school.

anyhow i think people really need to start giving kids at least a tiny bit more grace instead of making smug posts about how uncool they are compared to your youth days, you fucking twats

#autumn rants

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secret-moonstruck · 22 hours ago

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NOT SO SWEET REVENGE | k.sn

— Pairing: dom!sunoo x sub!fem reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: Y/N made a comment in front of the others about her boyfriend being too sweet to try anything harder, and he decides to get revenge.

— Genre: smut

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, cum eating, overstimulation, injuries, slaps, pet play, submission, blood.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

They were all celebrating Sunoo's birthday, her friend handed her a gift and said it was for the two of you. But as soon as he opened the present you saw him blush, without understanding why you approached to look at the contents of the box, as soon as you saw that they were handcuffs and lingerie you quickly closed the box and took it out of his hands, but and the difference Later, all his friends had already seen it and started making fun of it.

- Wow, apparently Sunoo's gifts aren't finished yet, you won't receive the real gift until later. - Ni-Ki was teasing him.

- Poor Sunoo. Don't be too heavy with it, the child may not be able to handle the gift. - Jake made a mocking joke.

- That was unnecessary. - You scolded your friend.

- What, but the present is your face. - Her friend said laughing. - Don't pretend you don't like these things.

- I already said he's too sweet for that kind of thing. - You tried to whisper to her but Heeseung who was nearby heard you.

- “I already said he's too sweet for that kind of thing” - Heeseung couldn't help it and started making fun. - Lol, I can't believe you have a perverted girlfriend and it's “SWEET Sunoo”.

Sunoo, who was just blushing out of embarrassment for the gift, was now blushing with anger, you realized that he was really offended and you understood, the jokes around I would have a holiday anyone's ego.

- Sunoo, I'm sorry. - You approached trying to calm him down.

- You will certainly regret it. - His look scared her, he didn't have his usual sweet expression, his gaze seemed fierce, and his voice was much heavier than normal.

But when he took your hand dragging you to the room taking the box with the gifts you weren't afraid, the way he looked different made you want to know what this angry side of him could show you.

You could hear the others arguing, surely thinking that the jokes might have damaged your relationship, that he was really angry.

At the same time you thought about how he looked so sexy bravo you wanted to grab him, you were also getting scared that he might break up with you, maybe he was really offended.

When he opened the door and pushed you inside making you fall on the bed you were already nervous about his silence, but when he turned to the closet looking for something and started talking, you were really scared that he had ruined everything because of a stupid gift.

- I always strived to treat you as I thought you deserved. Always ignoring my own desires by always thinking of you first. And for what? So you can humiliate me in front of my friends? Saying I'm not good enough.

- Sunoo you know it's not that, you are perfect in everything, I would never complain about anything.

- No? But it looks like you've been complaining to your friend, right?

- It wasn't that, I wasn't complaining... Please tell me you don't want to break up with me.

- Break up? It depends on the context. - He laughed ironically. - It doesn't matter, I tried to treat you in the best way possible, but if you want to be a bitch I will treat you exactly as you are, a bitch.

He found what he was looking for and turned back to you holding a box that he threw next to you on the bed. Your eyes widened, understanding what he meant by the context about breaking up. Why did her always so romantic innocent sweet boyfriend have these things in his closet?

- Come on, put this on. - He threw some things at you and pointed towards the door telling you to go. - I'll give you some of what you wanted. But don't forget that it was you who asked for it.

- Go? Wear this? But how will I get back?

- You've already made it clear to everyone that you're a bitch, what's the problem? - So many words you never expected to hear from him, it was making you dizzy.

You left the room with the things he gave you. You certainly couldn't leave the bathroom wearing that, the black lingerie might be pretty but it didn't cover anything, and the ears and tail... that was too much, you'd never walk down the hallway wearing that. Looking around you saw a towel and wrapped yourself in it so you could leave, luckily the hallway had no view of the room and no one passed by.

When he entered the room wrapped in a towel he got up from the bed and walked over to you.

- Who said you had to cover yourself? - He pulled the towel from his body angrily.

He admired you, looking at every detail of your body, your smile completely the opposite of his normal smile. He always seemed sweet to you, but now his eyes really looked like a fox, a wild fox that was going to devour you.

- I knew it would look perfect on you.

As he walked away you remained frozen in place, feeling a mix of emotions, at the same time being confused, as it seemed like the sweet Sunoo had been replaced, you hadn't recognized him, but at the same time you were loving it, feeling already excited looking forward to what would happen, you loved him for always being so romantic, so careful, but now everything about him seemed different, his posture, his look, his voice, his smile...

- Come here Y/N. - He called her sitting on the bed. His voice seemed to hypnotize you, you obeyed him without even realizing it.

When he pointed to the floor, you again didn't hesitate to obey, sitting on your knees in front of him.

- I ordered it for your birthday. I thought I would never see her using it. - He took what you thought was a choker and tied it around your neck. - It suits you perfectly. Go to the mirror and look.

Standing up and walking over to the mirror you saw him through the mirror, his gaze never leaving you. When you finally saw your own reflection you noticed that it wasn't a choker...it was obviously some kind of collar, and it had your name set in red stones.

Sunoo saw how your initially shocked look showed how much you liked the gift and smiled at you through the mirror.

Little by little they both realized that they were mistaken about how they saw each other, and how they wasted time with a facade of innocence.

You ran back to him happy with the gift, excitedly sitting on his lap, but when you tried to kiss him he pushed you away.

- I think you forgot why we're here Y/N. - As he spoke he attached a chain to the collar around his neck. - Why are you so excited? Have you forgotten that we are here to punish you for humiliating me?

- Sunoo I… - He didn't let you finish, he squeezed your face making you look into his eyes before pushing you making you get off his lap and pushing you away, he wanted to see you.

- If you beg, maybe I will forgive you.

It was obvious what he wanted, you got down on all fours and walked towards him.

- Please Sunoo, forgive me. - You begged, your eyes fixed on his. Now on your knees in front of him again.

- Sunoo? I think you didn't understand. - He pulled the chain on her collar, slightly choking her.

- Master... Please forgive me master! - Now tears rolling down your face, not from fear, but from excitement, why doesn't he fuck you soon?

- Better… But forgive you for what? - Pulling the collar again, this time harder.

- For underestimating you, master. For letting those lies speak about you.

- Very well, but that's not enough. You're not begging enough.

This time he pulled hard on the leash taking you to him before kissing you. This was also different from normal, it was much hotter, more engaging, sexy. You truly looked like a bitch, moans and sighs leaving your lips as he kissed you, your body melting from how hot it felt.

When you stood up a little, wanting more, trying to get closer to his body, he pushed you away.

- I didn't allow that. - His low and deep voice made you increasingly wet, but what really moved you was your face burning, the loud crack echoing through the room when he slapped your face.

First the shock of what happened, but without realizing it you smiled, he also noticed that. You let out a mix of scream and moan as he landed another slap on your face, you could feel the cold ring that was on his fingers against your face, and then the collar being pulled to make you face him.

- You smiled. - He laughed in admiration. - You really are a bitch.

His eyes shining with desire as he saw your face red, your lip bleeding from the impact.

- Oh... I think I hurt your beautiful face. - He said smiling, his tongue passing over a small cut made on his cheek by the ring, then also over the blood on his lips.

Your entire body frozen in place… OK…You were definitely falling more and more in love with him.

Your eyes followed his every movement as he took off his clothes. You always thought his body was perfect, it wasn't too thin, and he didn't have excessive muscles, everything was perfect, his skin that you loved to highlight, but always avoided being so obvious...damn it now you didn't have to worry about that anymore. Your mouth watered as you watched him now completely naked in front of you, the veins around his compliment so inviting...you knew it would be different from other times, and that seemed to make him even more attractive.

He didn't need to call you or pull you, you immediately got on your knees in front of him, but you waited, not wanting to risk doing something without him giving the order.

- Very well, good girl, you are already learning. - He touched her hair like someone praising a puppy. - I don't need to send it, do I? You know what to do. - Sunoo sat back on the bed, leaning back in his arms.

It was just what you needed to hear, when your hands finally touched his cock, you heard him sigh. You pumped him a few times before running your tongue from the base to the tip, catching the precum with your tongue before licking it again, you didn't notice that he was holding the chain around your neck until you felt a tug, and understood that he was getting impatient, soon you had him in your mouth, while your hand was on his balls. He obviously wasn't trying to hide his moans as you sucked him.

You couldn't take it anymore, while he didn't see you, he lowered his other hand to your wetness, pleasuring yourself. But when he felt you moaning against his dick he realized what you were doing, he pulled hard on your collar.

- Do that again and I won't let you cum tonight. - Your tone was authoritarian and you obviously wouldn't disobey.

Taking your hand away from you with a disappointed sigh you turned your attention fully to him, soon he came in your mouth, and you swallowed it all before opening your mouth to show him.

- Good girl, I think I can reward you.

He helped her up and signaled her to sit on his lap, but that was it. Then he took the chain off his collar and attached it to his wrists. All the while you were controlling yourself not to move in search of friction against his thighs, your pussy clenching around nothing, and he noticed it.

- You can move, I'll let you. - He barely finished speaking and you were rubbing against his thigh, your moisture spreading over his skin.

He watched for a while as you looked so pathetic and desperate moaning on his lap, the tail you wore swaying as you moved on his lap, he wanted to leave it longer but he couldn't wait any longer, he needed to be inside you.

Sunoo removed the lingerie you were still wearing and pushed you down making you lie down and attached the chain to the top of the bed. Then he stopped to observe you for a moment, admiring you, thinking about how many times he could have had you like this under him if he hadn't been so stupid to worry about how you seemed so fragile and he looked so upset, just to know that you were exactly like him.

Soon he lined up at your entrance, and you felt every inch of him sliding inside you, he didn't need to wait, you were too wet, his movements were fast and strong.

The loud moans echoing through the room, mixed with the sound of the chains that hurt your wrists as you tried unsuccessfully to free yourself, mixing with the wet sound of the contact of your bodies, your names leaving your lips like mantras.

Sunoo's hands gripping your waist tightly, leaving marks.

- Sunoo…please, Sunoo I beg you. - You asked when you were close, squeezing yourself around him, as he got closer and faster to cumming.

- That's right Y/N. Beg for me. - He said cumming, but without slowing down, making her cum too.

When he finally managed to catch his breath a little, he laughed, leaving you confused, he seemed to have had some idea.

- Come here. - He said, releasing the chains of the bed and picking him up, her legs around his waist as he carried her to the door, his back hitting her hard.

- Let's show that it is the child sweet? - His voice was nothing sweet, his whole body got goose bumps at how his voice sounded in his ear.

You tried to hold back your moans as he quickly pushed himself against you, your nails digging into his shoulders hard trying to keep yourself quiet, which was useless with the noise of your body hitting the door.

- No Y/N, let it out, I want to hear your beautiful voice moaning my name, go, you don't need to hold back. - His hand around your neck tightens, the collar under his fingers tightening even more on your skin making you dizzy.

- Please stop Sunoo, it's too much. - You asked, I was still very sensitive of your previous orgasm.

- Are you sure you want me to stop? - He said, slowing down. But that wasn't really what you wanted, you were close again, if he stopped now it would be worse.

- No, don't stop no, more, I need... - You begged.

- What do you need?

- I need to cum, please master. - Hearing you call him master again was the limit for him, not being able to take it anymore he came, you feeling every drop of him inside you made you come too while his name came frantically from your lips.

Your head falling onto his shoulder as you tried to remember how to breathe. He took you back to the bed and saw how screwed you looked, he removed the plug with the tail and your ear headband that was hanging from your hair, before kissing your chain injured wrists.

- Have you forgiven me? - It was the first thing you said, your voice weak.

- For now, yes. - He responded, pulling her to lie on his chest.

- I never really complained about you. I just said you were so perfect and sweet that I wanted to corrupt you. But apparently you were far from needing to be corrupted.

- It seems that they were both mistaken. You obviously didn't need that much care.

- Yes, we are the same, and we make mistakes equally, but now we no longer need masks.

- Exactly, and now that I know that you are not my fragile girlfriend, but a perverted little slut, next time I won't be so nice. - Nice…?

The next morning you felt like you could die from the embarrassment, everyone was wake up and when you entered the kitchen the conversation stopped immediately, everyone's eyes turned to you in shock.

- You could have been more discreet. - Jay scolded them. - We already understand Sunoo's message, next time remember to respect the other residents of the apartment.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #sunoo smut #sunoo x reader #sunoo imagines #kim sunoo #sunoo scenarios #sunoo #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #jungwon #niki #smut #fantasy #imagine

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