#i think he has done what he has to do to get where he is and thats very admirable tbh
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dear-ao3 · 9 hours ago
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by popular request: how to write an email
a disclaimer that this is the specific kind of email you send when people are absolutely smiting you and you know a phone call or an in person meeting is not possible/will not help. like youre 12 emails deep in an email chain and going in circles. youve been re routed to 13 offices 4 separate times. those kind of emails.
credentials: ive taken something like 13 semesters of college (dont ask) and every single semester have had to fight at least 3 offices for varying reasons in order to take classes. (including one time where i was shorted 5k in financial aid. i ended up getting 200 more dollars than i needed in the end) also my dad taught me everything he knows about emails (hes a tradesman turned corporate man and most of his job consists of telling people (nicely) that what theyre doing sucks and makes absolutely no sense)
Step 1: figure out who the email needs to go go
there is nothing wrong with emailing 11 million people if it gets the job done. if someone isnt helping you and you Know that they Should Be feel free to start to copy their boss on the email. copy your boss on an email. (or advisor or whoever). even if you think the person might only be like Vaguely helpful, sometimes people know people.
also theres nothing wrong with emailing the same email to several departments. sometimes you have to make a lot of noise to get something done (again. as like a last resort. dont email 11 million people right out of the gate)
Step 2: remember to be Polite
a very tempting step to ignore especially when you are 13 thousand emails deep in problems. but! if you are not nice to them! they will probably continue to smite you in the future! you want to make friends! not foes! so no matter how much people are smiting you, try to resist the urge to be an utter dipshit because it will not get the job done. vent to a friend or a coworker and send your polite and nice email
Step 3: articulate the problem Clearly.
a very important step. especially if you are adding more people to your email chain. dont assume they know your exact problem. they probably are dealing with other problems. articulate Clearly what is happening, no matter how long the email may be. its far better to get a long and detailed email rather than a non helpful short one. that will only prolong the process of how long it takes the problem to get solved.
Step 4: cite your reciepts.
wildly important. send your screenshots your attachments your whatever the fucking fuck youve got. its always good to have a paper trail. this is also where you would state any previously attempts to have the problem Sorted (ie i reached out to x person on x y and z days about x problem and it is still not resolved). you would not believe how many people dont scroll down in an email, especially a forwarded/replied one. so summarize whats Down There in your most recent email
Step 5: use the appropriate lingo
you dont have to be Overly Formal but there are a few good Buzz Sentences that usually get the job done. for example:
As Per My Last Email: a great line. emphasizes that youve already mentioned this. and this is not the first time youre mentioning this point. also emphasizes that the Thing has yet to be solved
See Attached/See Below: under utilized. again. people do not open attachments and they do not scroll down. almost had a friend once fail a class because a professor gas lit them in an email chain saying they didnt receive the final paper when the paper itself was attached earlier in the email chain. be Painfully Literal. it pays off.
Help Me To Understand: this is one of my dad's favorite lines. it really shows that you have no fucking idea what the person youre emailing is getting at and youre offering them the opportunity to spell out their nonsense for you. so that you can then be like. well. clearly This is where the miscommunication lies. its a great line. has saved my ass many times. because it is not accusing it is just offering someone to understand. it does not attack. it just is.
Step 6: give a polite sign off.
something along the lines of "thank you in advance for any help" or "i look forward to hearing from you" does the job. something that sends the message you are not pissed to shit at them even if you are.
Step 7: follow up and follow up often.
polite email response time is 48 business hours/2 business days. if it has been longer than that you have every right to email back and say hi x person just following up on this email, have you had the chance to review it yet? again. keep it polite. you actually want them to help you. and if they still dont respond well then maybe its time to loop in a boss or a supervisor or whoever the hell else. dont be afraid to go above them if you need to. nothing wrong with getting shit done when it needs to get done.
and really, if all that fails, as my dad says, a little office bribe in the form of cookies has never hurt anyone :)
so an email. should be formatted something like this:
Greetings/Good Morning (Afternoon) (Person)
I hope this email finds you well (or something similar for a greeting). I am reaching out regarding X incident/problem/whatever the fuck it is. I have previously reached out to X person on X dates and (summary of whatever they did or didnt do). See below/attached emails/pdf/screenshot/document (if applicable)
(explanation of the problem in as simple and detailed terms as possible. have someone re read it to make sure that it cannot be misconstrued)
(explanation of what you are looking for as a solution)
Please help me to understand why this (solution) has not been able to be reached. (explain you are on x timeline if the situation is urgent)
Kind regards/Thank you for any help in advance/I look forward to hearing from you etc,
email signature
go forth and conquer your emails. remember, sometimes you have to be a squeaky wheel. and in my million cases of email sending, it has ALWAYS paid off and i have gotten the problems solved. dont be afraid of the emails they can help you.
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peachesofteal · 2 days ago
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I know Azriel has amassed a ton of wealth over centuries from doing the dirtiest work, and rarely spends it. He's never really had a need to. Of course, he buys gifts for his family, covers tabs at Rita's, buys himself things, essentials, etc but when it comes to spending for enjoyment or spending to indulge, it just doesn't happen.
He's not looking for reasons, either, until he literally stumbles into one.
You trip and fall into him in the Palace of Thread and Jewels. Trip over something on the ground, get twisted up, and flail forward, right into his path. You're rose and pink pepper, floral, sharp, sweet in a way he cannot fathom, and he doesn't think before stopping your fall. He just reacts, grabbing you around the arms and pulling you upright, holding you steady as you recalibrate your balance, looking up into his face, eyes shining bright like the stars. They're brilliant, full of life, but lined with an undercurrent of stress, of worry, he does not understand.
You're fumbling over an apology as he studies you, scrutinizing every detail on your face, down to the chap of your lips.
He's never seen a High Fae look so... off before, and they're not known to be clumsy.
"Are you alright?" It's polite to inquire, he assures himself, it's the right thing to do.
"I'm fine," you smile but it doesn't touch your eyes, "thanks. Sorry about that. I wasn't watching where I was going." He's unsure what to say next but before he can come up with something, you're giving him a quick thank you, and then disappearing into market.
He thinks about you that night. Wonders about you, as he stares at the bedroom ceiling. You obviously weren't well. Maybe he should have done more. It's his duty, isn't it? To Velaris? To care for it and its citizens, to protect them. Or at least, you. Do something to care for you, protect you.
He's not sure what to do, so he pushes the lingering questions from his mind.
And then the following week, he sees you at Rita's.
You're waiting tables, waltzing across the floor delivering drinks with a smile, the same one that slips away as soon as you're out of sight. Your shoulders slump as you stand at the corner of the bar, covering your mouth with your palm, yawning into it again and again.
Maybe he should do something, maybe you need a healer, maybe he could help-
No. He shouldn't. You probably wouldn't want him to, anyway. Right?
He shakes it off, tries to shake you off but can't stop himself from watching every step you take, trying to diagnose the problem.
It takes too long for it to click.
You're not sick, or clumsy.
You're exhausted, and it makes him irrationally angry, fills him with a need to drag you away from Rita's and tuck you up into a house somewhere, a place you'll never have to lift a finger again if you so choose. A place where you could be taken care of-
maybe even by him.
It takes him very little time to find the ramshackle duplex you live in on the outskirts of town, the roof too sloped, the wooden steps too rotted, the siding too loose.
It makes him uneasy, makes his skin crawl. Why are you here, in a place like this? Who has allowed this?
Why does a place like this even exist when Velaris has such wealth?
He begins to play a game, and at first, he tells himself it's to make himself feel better, that he's doing it for selfish reasons.
It's winter, and you don't have gloves, so he buys a pair and the shadows deposit them on your front step, and it makes the sick feeling in his stomach go away. For a few days.
When it returns, he buys you a hat, and this time, he delivers it himself, eager to see your reaction.
He doesn't expect to see the gloves still sitting on the porch, and he frowns. Did you not see them? Did you not like them? He leaves the hat at their side and lurks on the roof of the house across from yours, hiding in shadow, in wait.
The sun is still rising when you leave for your first job of the day, and you stop short at the sight of the hat. He perks up, expecting to see you relax with relief, or happiness, but is left confused when you hold the hat in your hands for a moment, reverently tracing the stitching, before dropping it back next to the gloves.
Why? You need these things. They're being given anonymously, alleviating some of awkwardness of accepting gifts, and he had hoped it would spare you from feelings of obligation or embarrassment. Perhaps you are too proud, he wonders, but shadows echo a different sentiment, one of distrust, of wariness.
The gifts scare you.
The guilt churns the bile in his stomach, and he flexes his fingers into fists before flying away, cursing himself the whole way home.
Idiot.
You're very surprised when he approaches you on your walk from the Palace to Rita's, so much so that you jerk to a dead stop, staring at him with your mouth dropped open as he tries to explain he has something to give you.
Yes, he knows you don't know him. Yes, he's aware how strange this is.
Yes, you will be taking this scarf whether you like it or not.
"I'm sorry?"
"This is for you." He extends the scarf towards you, holding his breath. Your eyes narrow.
"Have you been leaving things on my porch?"
"Yes." There's no point in lying. He's standing here trying to gift you a scarf, for Cauldron's sake.
"Why?" Your voice is tight, anxious, and he wishes there was a way he could reassure you without frightening you further.
"You needed them." It comes off as arrogant, but he doesn't care. He's getting to the point where he's past caring, where he's past watching you freeze and work yourself to the bone. His jaw is clenched so tight the muscles are straining, and it takes effort to steady his voice. "You're freezing."
"I-"
"I want you to have this." Just take it. The shadows skitter around him, trawling across the brick to where you stand, and you glance at them briefly, surprisingly unafraid, before looking back at him. He expects a fight, some kind of resistance, but it's all been bled dry. The only thing he sees is defeat, and it stings. You're suffering, you're suffering and he's got everything he could ever want, material wise, and then some. "Please," he murmurs, stepping forward, and you shake your head.
"I shouldn't."
"It's just a gift, I don't expect anything in return."
"You say that now." Your voice trembles. Anger cracks like lightning through his veins. Is this what you fear? A transaction? An exchange for help? There are only so many things one could want in a situation like this, and all of the them fill him with rage.
"I promise you," his voice is steel, firm and unrelenting, "I want nothing in return."
"You promise." It's not a question, and you won't meet his gaze, but he pushes on.
"I do." You reach for it hesitantly and wrap it around your neck, tucking your chin into the softly spun wool, cheeks lifting in a very small, shy smile. Good girl.
He chose perfectly. It complements your skin, your eyes, illuminates your already striking beauty.
"I... thank you. This is really nice. It's lovely." The shadows hum, and he secretly preens, the warmth in his chest spreading as you tell him your name.
"I'm Azriel," he says in return, and you nod.
"I know." You sigh, and look past him, down the street to where he knows your work awaits. "I have to go."
Or he could take you. It's tempting, so, so tempting. It's wicked, and rotten, but satisfying at the same time, and it soothes the reckless pieces of him calling out to you.
No. He shouldn't. He settles on a different course instead.
"I'll see you soon." Your brow furrows.
"You will?" He nods, spreading his wings, preparing to launch into the sky, pleased by how you marvel at them.
"And you'll wear both the gloves and hat when you're outside from now on." Your lips part with surprise. "Yes?" It takes a beat, and then two-
"Yes."
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cloudwisp · 2 days ago
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𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · (𝐡𝐢𝐬) 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤
contents: fluff. early twenties + first year of marriage. found family. gojo’s entire day shifts when you forget to wear your wedding ring. 900 wc.
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“Eehh—?” You can faintly hear the noise Satoru let out coming from your shared bedroom, and you know he’d approach you about the situation sooner or later. You remain seated in bated breath as he stands with rounded shoulders before your dresser, cerulean hues staring down at your jewelry ceramic tray. And unmistakably there sits a wedding band with a large gemstone glinting at him under the warmth of the golden rays filtering through the curtains. He had a strong feeling there was a reason for his off-morning and this must’ve been it.
A noticeable pout rests on his lower lip and his hands are shoved in the pockets of his sorcerer’s uniform as he slowly climbs down the stairs. You glance over your shoulder from the couch with Tsumiki seated with her legs folded under her while you finish off her braid, and he looks like a kicked puppy the closer he treads. With a small pat on the young girl’s head, you send her to find her brother in his bedroom for breakfast.
“Oh good morning, baby. Why the long face, hm?” You shift your body toward him with an unperturbed smile, but Satoru sulks where he settles on the couch beside you in a manspread. “I’m almost certain I didn’t forget your morning kisses this time, even gave you more than plenty to last the day. Might I add the extra five or was it fifteen minutes of cuddling you so insisted on.” You tease with a gentle poke to his cheek, but nothing seems to be budging him and you think something terrible has happened. Though your husband’s jutted pout is adorable enough to maintain a lighthearted mood.
“No, but you did forget something.” Satoru sighs with a small shake of his head, letting on a weight of seriousness that makes you breathe out a curious ‘oh?’ at what that could be. With a tilt of your head, you watch his movements as he reveals the wedding ring he proposed to you with from the depths of his pocket. He twirls the silver band between his fingers and relief washes over you because you genuinely thought you had done something grave. “Found it on your jewelry dish. Don’t forget to wear it, princess.”
“Ah, so that's what’s bothering you.” You soften as your head leans against him with your arm looping around his, your left hand coming up so he can slip it back onto your finger. He does so with delicate care, and you offer him an explanation of taking it off before showering while he went for a run because you were afraid it'd fall down into the drain and forgot to put it back on. With having two pre-teenagers taken under both your wings, it’s easy to neglect these small details but you have noted to be more mindful next time.
Satoru hums with a chaste kiss on your forehead, intertwining your fingers together in a sweet hold as his thumb brushes against your skin. “Just don’t want anyone else to think you’re up for grabs. It’s not me who gets all the attention when we’re out together, you know.” He can perfectly recall those encounters where not only random strangers would make advances on you, but also cute grannies wanting to set you up with their grandson. He’s gone for one minute to collect your favorite snacks and you’re not how he left you when he returns.
“Oh Satoru, you still haven’t gotten over that yet? It happened two or three times and I think they were just being polite.” Satoru knew you would say that but allows you to have your own beliefs as you reach over to playfully pinch his cheek with a soft laugh. But you suppose it’s endearing seeing him jealous over something that happened years ago when he has nothing to worry about. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Hmm, that’s an easy one. Never let me go?” He answers with a quickness that causes your heart to flutter, and sure enough he’s reverting back to being your lovable and charming husband. “Besides, having a beautiful and hot wife means that I have to protect and take care of what’s mine.” And he means more than fending off idiots trying to get your number, but also from being potentially targeted by cursed users because you’re someone of great importance to the Gojo clan leader.
“There’s a much better way to handle that. I could just let everyone know I’m happily married to the best guy ever.” Satoru doesn’t hide the smug look overtaking his features before nuzzling his face into your neck and pressing light kisses on your pulse point.
“Heh, flattery won’t get you off the hook.” He drags you impossibly close with his large hand wrapped around your hip. His onslaught of kisses continues up along your face and you both fall back on the cushions of the couch as he revels in your giggles. After a moment, Satoru meets your gaze again and sweeps strands of hair away to see more of you. “And I love seeing that ring on your finger. Reminds me of something real special between us and that you chose to be with me.”
“I meant what I said earlier, by the way.” You gently take his hand cradling your face and place it over your chest with an earnest squeeze. “You are the best husband I could ever ask for. Love you, baby.” Satoru leans down to capture your lips sweetly at first, then chases after its softness for little pecks and murmurs how much he loves you back. And from the bottom of the steps of the staircase are the Fushiguro siblings sharing a knowing glance before entering the room to help with breakfast.
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꒰ note ᰔ satoru always wears his wedding band on his finger and around his neck when he’s fighting against cursed spirits. ꒱
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bardicindignation · 3 days ago
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okay okay okay so bear with me here, and keep in mind that a. I haven't watched the bad batch or anything Star Wars has put out since the Mandalorian season 2 and b. It's been a minute since I've listened to WTNV and I've only listened up to ep 146.
So! here we go!
I stand by my casting for Padme, Anakin, and Qui-Gon, but I actually think that Obi-Wan isn't the Steve Carlsberg of this AU-he's the Man in the Tan Jacket. I've read at least one WTNV fic where the Man in the Tan jacket is Cecil's brother that he has no memory of and I know this god jossed by later canon but I really liked the theory! But in this, he's not Padme's "brother" he's Anakin's, and Anakin is the one who has some kind of (Palpatine fuckery induced) memory issues. (more on this later)
I spent some time debating with myself over who would be the Tamika Flynn equivalent, was kinda waffling between Sabine and Ahsoka but then! It occured to me that, hey, Ahsoka's kind of close to Padme in canon, and she did the whole like wandering journey thing...So Ahsoka gets to be Dana Cardinal! (without the becoming the mayor part. I don't think that would suit Ahsoka tbh.) So, Sabine is our preteen explosive revolutionary, joined by Ezra. For no reason other than vibes, Dooku is definitely The Woman From Italy Serenno. (...Or maybe that's Mother Talzin and she's the Woman From Dathomir idk). Hmmm...alternatively, Dooku is Marcus Vanston and the Erika's are Force Ghosts. Yeah, Mother Talzin can be the Woman from Dathomir
The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives In Your Home was kinda tricky, and frankly I feel like the Star Wars character who most matches in terms of Gremlin Vibes is Yoda, so we've got the Little Green Troll Who Secretly Lives In Your Home. (Look. It would be so funny to put Yoda in a mayoral race.)
Cut Lawquane, you know, the farmer.
As for Steve Carslberg, the honor goes to Sola Naberrie, towards whom Padme has an animosity two parts concealment of Sola's relationship to Padme Amidala (an open secret) and one part sibling aggravation.
I was super close to having Maul be Lauren (evil, talks too much) but then I thought it would be more fun if he, Savage, and Feral all make up a literally three-headed dragon.
As far as Clones go, I think that they were secretly created by SepCorp (Seperatist/Strex Corp). The Coruscant Guard is the Sherrif's secret police, Rex and the 501st are planted with the scientists, etc. SepCorp thought that it would be much harder to have this infiltration, but the town immediately accepted clones existing as Normal (I mean, look, they all know that Amidala is like at least 4 people)(with some exceptions).
The whole chips thing doesn't come into play until the SepCorp takeover, and are pretty quickly jail broken by Sabine & co with help from Anakin, and (virtually, Ahsoka.) Echo is Fey/The WZZZ numbers station (or the ARC station) and also helps free the rest of the clones from the mind control.
Now, as for Obi-Wan/Man in the Tan Jacket, Anakin, and what the fuck is Palpatine doing, anyway?
Anakin caught the attention of Palpatine (aka the secret CEO of SepCorp) shortly after he began attending college. Palpatine proceeded to spend Anakin's undergrad grooming him to be his right hand in Strex Corp. (Maybe he was posing as a professor or smth). This plan got messed up when, upon starting his graduate program, Anakin ended up roommates with Obi-Wan Kenobi (who had recently left Nighvale after his worst fight with Qui-Gon yet.) Obi-Wan (unfortunately for Palpatine) forms a fast and strong (if sometimes contentious) bond with Anakin, which results in Anakin changing his focus for his graduate degree to something less what Palpatine wants and more what Anakin is interested in.
Palpatine is Not Amused. When it becomes clear that Anakin is no longer interested in filling the job that Palpatine has so generously created or him in Strexcorp he decides that something Must Be Done. He enacts some kind of curse or smth on Obi-Wan, removing all memories anyone has of him, and making it very nearly impossible to form new ones, beyond that he's a Man in the Tan Jacket.
Infuriatingly, this does not immediately result in Anakin running into the loving arms of SepCorp, but Palpatine is able to pull some strings and get him into the research team destined for...oooh! Starvale, of course the town is Starvale!
But back to Padme! I feel like this is a great vehicle for Padme to be every bit as insane abt Anakin as he is about her bc...let's be real. She absolutely is; just because she seems to be more chill by comparison doesn't make this actually true. Padme is not the Normal One. There is no Normal One.
Also, given the handmaidens, this has interesting implications for the double incident, huh? Like, do Padme and the handmaidens take the doubles arriving in stride, or do they feel at a deep, instinctive level that these are Not The Same Thing? Does the eldritch station management actually know the difference between Padme!Amidala or, say, Sabe!Amidala?
Now, I think that Palpatine is also Leonard Burton, and was Padme's radio mentor. With all the concerning implications involved etc. He somehow still doesn't really get how Starvale works. (Maybe a faliure to keep Padme under his thumb prompted him to search outside Starvale and ultimately find Anakin). Dex runs the Moonlite All-Nite Diner.
Not sure who the Apache Tracker would be...unless he's Quinlan Vos deep undercover (Obi-Wan, possibly the only person who knows that it's him, will never let him live this down) and fakes his death. idk tho, this one's tricky.
Mace Windu is the mayor. This man deals with So Much Shit in canon, he deserves the chance to be a little unhinged, and to have mayoral powers, as a treat. Plus, he's canonically a theater performer. He could do the drama, he Has The Range.
And uhhh, yeah! that's what I've got!
(there's another version of this set in the GFFA where a Supposed To Be Dead Padme is doing like, a rebel broadcast, Obi-Wan is Old Woman Josie, and Anakin/Vader is both Carlos and Steve Carlsberg. "And Vader came around to kill a bunch of people with his stupid, perfect, shiny helmet, and his sexystupid murderwalk. He's the worst person to ever exist and I defintiely, definitely, hate him. It's just and only hatred.")(And yes, this is partially inspired by hometown blues)
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Natalie Portman wearing a Panasonic FM Stereo Headset RF-60 from the 1970s 
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vexwerewolf · 18 hours ago
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Harrison Armory
I think a lot of people fundamentally misunderstand Harrison Armory, Lancer fans on Tumblr especially.
Harrison Armory is not Nazi Germany. Harrison Armory doesn't actually have an exact parallel on modern-day Earth, and it would be difficult to draw them without potentially insensitive implications.
I think the closest parallel I can draw is late-stage Obama-era America, with a lot of Nordic-style public investment and China's Social Credit system.
People depicting the Armory as a cold, grind-obsessed hypercapitalist nightmare are thinking of IPS-N. The Armory looks after its citizens, at least in as much as happy workers are productive workers. Even as a colonial subject, you can expect a decent standard of living simply because they don't answer solely to shareholders - for better or for worse, the Armory has a vision, an insistence upon the dignity of Humanity which wouldn't allow them to let you live in squalor. This is a cold, haughty kind of beneficence - they don't care about you per se, it's just that allowing you to suffer would reflect poorly on them.
You will get healthcare. You will get free, frequent public transit that you might not even need to use, since every city is walkable. You will get clean water, healthy food and safe streets. You will get frequent vacations and as many sick days as you need. No matter your ethnicity, birth gender, gender identity, religion, sexuality, physical or mental ability, the Armory has a place for you. The Armory does not discriminate.
The Armory is expansionist, for sure, but it chooses its new acquisitions carefully - Diasporan worlds under the thumb of ruthless dictators, repressive theocracies, avaricious hypercapitalist oligarchs. If you're a colonial subject, the Armory have likely liberated you from tyrants.
What do you give in return? Complete cultural obedience.
You will not cause a disturbance. You will not rock the boat. You will not question the benevolent system that gave you this abundance. The Armory gives you all the choices that really matter to someone like you: eat what you want, shop where you want, buy what you want - after all, every shop, every café, every restaurant is an Armory subsidiary, so whatever cuisine you favour, whatever brand of dataslate you prefer, the Armory is making back most of the salary they pay you. The Armory puts a roof over your head. The Armory protects you from the wolves at the door. The Armory even lets you vote on your local representatives (they've all got spotless Socials, so you know that no matter who you choose, they're loyal, attentive citizens). Are you not happy? Are you not grateful?
Show us. Show us you're grateful. Show up to the Foundation Day parade. Salute the statues of Harrisons I (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE), II (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) and III (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE). Recite the Pledge. Volunteer for the local Guard Corps - or better yet, the Colonial Legion. Don't you care about your community? Aren't you proud of your nation? Don't you want to give back? Aren't you a good citizen?
What's that? Dissent? You little shit! You ungrateful little worm! After all we've done for you, after all this Great Nation has sacrificed for you, you dare ask for more? Harrison I (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) sacrificed himself on Union's altar for us - for YOU! Harrison II (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) died refusing to bend the knee, refusing to sacrifice our freedom - YOUR LIBERTY! Harrison III (PRAISE THE DIRECTOR GENERAL, LONG MAY HE SERVE) tours the Purview to see and hear your fellow countrymen and address their concerns, and you dare question his right to rule? The Steward Council is comprised of only his most trusted advisors - do you doubt their commitment to our values?
We live in the best and brightest era of human civilization, the problems of the past all behind us, and all you can think about is ways to drag us all down. You ungrateful, shiftless, lazy little bastard. You want me to call the local Social board? See how they feel about your profile? If you don't feel like the Armory is doing enough for you? Well, let's see how you like it when the Armory does nothing for you. You clearly don't have the spirit or the courage to be truly free.
Ugh, dissenters, am I right? Fuck, sorry about that, folks. Yeah, that was... intense! Anyway, let's not let that whole sordid ordeal ruin this party. Let's all just chill, take an edible, and celebrate what we came here to celebrate - the Colonial Legion incorporated its first all-trans Genghis brigade! What a win for progressivism, right? You'd never see that in the Trade Baronies! Praise the Director General! Long may he serve!
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P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?
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Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader
Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.
Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.
Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.
Mature content under the cut.
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 
'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 
Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 
'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 
'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 
'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 
'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 
'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 
'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 
'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 
'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 
'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 
'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 
'So?' 
'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 
'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 
'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 
'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 
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To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 
Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 
So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 
You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 
'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 
And a switch flicks in your head. 
'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 
His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 
'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 
'You know Tara?' You nod. 
'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 
He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 
'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 
"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 
Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 
But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 
He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 
Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 
A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 
He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 
He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  
“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 
And then he presses record. 
∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 
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239 notes · View notes
joonsytip · 1 day ago
Text
Something About You || Woozi
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Pairings: Woozi x Fem!Reader
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Lawyer!Woozi, Event Coordinator!Reader, Selective Amnesia au, Secret Relationship au
Synopsis: When your boyfriend loses all memories of you after an accident, you go through hell of a time trying to bring back the memories. But in the process of convincing him what you both had was real, it makes you question if what you both had was ever real.
Warnings:  jihoon is outright blunt and asshole, mentions accident, jihoon suffers selective amnesia, reader has astraphobia, relationship is hidden and based on rebound, one fighting scene, jihoon gets beaten by umbrella, oral (f. recieving), fingering, dirty talks, rough sex.
Word Count: 11.5k
Thanks to @cherriegyuu for beta reading this ♡
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞
[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]
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The look Jihoon gives you is condescending. He believes that whatever you said just now is the most ridiculous thing he has ever heard.
"I know it's hard to believe but it's true that I'm your girlfriend."
You repeat, biting back the tears.
The doctor takes pity on you and attempts to make his patient understand his current medical situation quoting it in most layman terms possible.
"Mr. Lee, you have been in an accident and that has caused internal bleeding in your brain. I'm not going into details but that has caused neural damage.", he continues solemnly, "Since you can't recognize your partner, we have run some tests and it indicates that you're suffering from amnesia."
Suddenly the door barges open and enters Soonyoung, Jihoon's friend and most probably the only one on his side who knows about your relationship.
Jihoon's eyes light up as he recognizes his friend and the realization dreads upon you.
"It's selective amnesia.", the doctor explains, carefully studying your expression, "Mr. Lee has forgotten all the memories you've shared."
Soonyoung stands up, his entire demeanor masked in disbelief, "How is that possible? He recognised everyone when I showed him the pictures! How can he not remember his girlfriend?"
"We can't give you an exact explanation but it's possible that before the accident happened Mr. Lee was thinking about her. "
You fiddle your fingers, tears wetting your cheeks and chin. Taking a deep breath, you ask, "Is there a possibility he can remember me or am I erased from his mind forever?"
You choke a sob. 
"There are cases where the patients have recovered their memories. It can take two days, two weeks, two years or even two decades. There's no certainty. In some cases", the doctor relents, "they never got their memories back. I'd suggest you revisit familiar places, re-watch your shared moments captured together. Anything to make him regain his lost memories."
It's been a hell of a ride since then.
Lee Jihoon, an enigmatic independent lawyer, who has zero nonsense tolerance has now a random woman constantly claiming to be his girlfriend of two years.
And somehow his close friend is backing up that claim. Something's absolutely fishy.
Jihoon glares at Soonyoung and completely ignores your presence right next to him.
"You have brought her into my office now?", Jihoon glowers in rage, his voice low, "Soonyoung explain yourself."
As the said man opens his mouth, you gesture him to stop.
You pull out your phone, opening the gallery.
"I have already seen them.", Jihoon says unimpressed, "I get that we have met through Soonyoung but these photos suggest nothing more than us being friends."
You show him a picture where he's hugging you from behind, his chin perched on your shoulder. You're smiling looking at the camera, he's smiling looking at you.
There's another one, set in his apartment, you are drawing something on his hand and he's kissing the top of your head. 
Jihoon turns away from you in his revolving chair, "This doesn't prove shit. We could have done this as friends."
You sigh, "Do you think you are that kind of person who'd do this with a mere or even a close friend?"
That shuts him up for a moment.
"Why would I be lying to you, Jihoon?", Soonyoung asks, almost offended.
"You tell me. I'm also not sure why you are doing this.", Jihoon retaliates.
There's a beat of silence before Jihoon continues, rubbing his temples in frustration, "Look, I don't wanna be an ass about it but you don't have enough proof to back up that we were in a relationship."
"But--", you're getting cut off.
"No one knows about us, none of my friends or colleagues. You show me our pictures and I admit they look intimate but it doesn't solidify that we were dating. You showed me our text conversation and never in the span of two years did I write a single 'I love you'.", he shakes his head, "All of it looks circumstantial to me."
It hits you harder than you could imagine.
Another couple of months go by and you're still not giving up. 
"He was on a call with me, Soonyoung, when the accident happened he was talking to me.", you admit sobbing. Soonyoung hands you the tissue box and patiently waits for you to continue. 
"He had been acting antsy for the past few days and though I wanted to share his burden, I decided not to probe. I knew he'd eventually let me know. Before the accident, the last thing he said was he had something to tell me and he was on his way to my place."
He pats on your shoulder, "Jihoon will get back his memories of you, Y/N. Let's keep trying."
But you've freed Soonyoung from the burden of constantly backing you up, still being a great friend he shows up whenever he can.
You work as an event coordinator. You were acquainted with Soonyoung through a common friend, so when over two years ago you had been contacted by him to be the planner of his brother's wedding, you agreed instantly. 
You are professional. In your line of work, you're well known for professionalism. 
But it was discarded the moment you saw Jihoon among the crowd on the wedding day. 
You had ditched professionalism then and only once, when you asked Soonyoung for his friend's contact details. When enquired, you spilled it all to Soonyoung honestly. 
Lee Jihoon is a known name in the city, he's reputed to be the best. It goes back a year when your friend's aunt had gotten scammed by a loan shark losing her property. With no lawyer interested in defending her, it was only Jihoon who had fought for her.
You swore you hadn't seen anyone cooler. The aura he emitted, the impeccable ferociousness and the sincerity he showed when he represented his client had you down bad for him.
Since then you've developed a crush but it would pass by, you thought, as there's no way you'd be crossing paths with him ever unless you have something to deal with legally.
But seeing him again during Soonyoung's brother's wedding was a sucker punch to your gut.
Suddenly, the crush resurfaces, in fact it ten folds when Jihoon looked nothing but absolutely gorgeous throughout.
"Jihoon has a foul mouth, so don't expect anything good coming out of it.", Soonyoung warns as he sends you the contact details, "Don't cry, don't take it to heart, no matter what he says."
And Soonyoung was correct. 
"Hi, I'm Y/N. I got your contact from Soonyoung."
When you had called Jihoon asking him if he could free some time for you as you had something to discuss, he agreed, assuming you would be needing some legal advice.
"Go on a date with me.", you say, "Please?"
The incredulous look on his face was remarkable but you had mustered all the courage within the world before sitting in front of him and discarded all the shame along with it.
"I'd be courteous since you're Soonyoung's friend but don't dare to try this act again.", Jihoon gets up, controlling himself from berating you as he walks past.
"3 dates.", you grab his wrist and he looks back at you, "That's all I want. And if you reject me after that, I won't be a bother."
Yanking his hand from your grip, he glares, "And why did you assume that I'd want to invest my time on you? You must be knowing that I'm quite busy."
"That surely makes you bitchless.", you snark back under your breath but Jihoon catches it.
He scoffs in a mix of disbelief and anger, "You--"
Clamping your hand on his mouth, you apologize quickly, "Sorry about that. And to answer your question", you grin, "Why don't you find it out yourself by going on a date with me? Tonight works for you?"
"You, for sure have a few loose screws.", Jihoon finally says, removing your hand, "Look I'm not interested and I'm busy, I work till late every night."
So Jihoon is rendered speechless when he sees you knocking on his office door late at night, to be specific at 2 AM.
"Hey, brought delicious wedding food and beer for us.", you enter and set the bag on the chair as the table was occupied, "That was one extravaganza wedding I had to arrange."
"And who said that you could be here?", Jihoon quips back, initially agitated but as the aroma of food hits his nose, reminding how he had skipped meals again and now his stomach could growl anytime, "This is rude and unethical."
"I know but I've decided to go against all ethics to woo you, Mr. Lee.", you throw him a wink which has Jihoon rolling eyes at you.
The first date was spent by eating food, chugging beer and your one sided talks.
The second one comes some days later as Jihoon agrees upon it just to make it crystal clear that he's really not interested and you should stop pestering him. He goes blunt, his words piercing you, intentionally. 
Though you insist, he is adamant. So you promise to not bother him anymore and make up your mind to move on.
Surprise comes to you a month later when Jihoon asks to meet you through a text. Somehow that night ends with you tangled in his sheets and the next morning he finally agrees to date you.
"Let's keep it private for now.", Jihoon tells and before you could ask the reason, he continues, "I wanna be sure, if it works out fine, let's tell everybody."
You find it a bit skeptical but it's not impractical so you agree. 
"But Soonyoung gets to know.", you declare, leaving no room for negotiations, "And my family and close friends would be knowing too."
Jihoon is your boyfriend now but something about the way let's himself around you makes you worry.
You don't expect him to act lovesick around you but he's so conserved. He barely texts you, only shows up when insisted and rarely initiates anything. There are no terms of endearment from him, no special acts.
Eight months into the relationship and you decide it's enough. You're done with his half ass slash zero commitments. So you start to act like him, zero calls, no texts and updates. You realise that you had gotten too good at the game when Jihoon knocks at your door one night.
Jihoon notices the lack of communication on your part and he doesn't let it bother him thinking you must have been busy but when it goes on for nearly a month, it strikes him that something's definitely wrong so that's how he finds himself knocking on your door.
And that night changes the dynamics between you two.
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Jihoon has been getting frequent dreams nowadays. He sees you in all of them. In one, he's playing chess with you, in another you're perched on his lap humming soothing melodies to get him to nap. In some he sees your bodies tangled in the sheets.
He wakes up, his body hot, mind foggy. It's reoccurring, even pestering. He concludes that the reason behind these dreams is all the nonsense you've been feeding him daily, it's because he sees you everyday. He decides to put a stop to it.
"Something's bothering you?", you ask upon entering his cabin, "need help?"
Jihoon perks up, "And what can you help me with?"
"You might have forgotten, but we used to brainstorm a lot. You'd never go into the exact details of the case to respect privacy and we'd create hypothetical scenarios and try to come up with possible nooks and crannies."
He scoffs, "I would never take opinions from anyone. It's not my way of working, I work solely upon my hunch and instincts."
You've had a long day and aren't in a mood for banter. All you want is a warm bath and tight sleep.
So not pushing it further, you set the bags on the table and say, "I bought you food from your favourite outlet. Eat it up while it's hot and call me if you need me."
"Don't expect me to call you.", Jihoon blurts out, "When are you gonna stop doing this?"
You give him a sharp look, "Stop doing what?"
"Trying to forcefully insert yourself in my life."
You scoff, "Maybe when you stop being an asshole and try to put some effort into gaining back your memories?"
Jihoon glares at you. You glare back at him, no way you're taking shit from him today.
When his jaw ticks and eyes turn darker, you think of backing down and leaving because you know it's the look he gives when he's about to say something absolutely brutal.
"Maybe you should get a hint by now.", he says coldly, "Isn't it obvious, the reason why I remember everyone but you?"
"Jihoon, don't.", you say as soon as he opens his mouth to speak again.
"You weren't someone important in my life, Y/N. You're so insignificant that I don't even remember you."
Your throat closes up. A tear falls down your cheek and before he could continue his verbal assault, you run out of his cabin.
While doing so you bump into someone.
"I'm sorry.", you say, wiping your tears before looking up.
The woman in front of you, echoes your words and leaves. Your gaze follows her and you see her entering Jihoon's office. And rooted to the ground, through the glass window you watch an entirely different Jihoon. The frown on his face is quickly replaced by a shy smile, his body language seemingly changing to gentleness. The way he crosses the chairs to pull one out for the woman to sit, the eye contact that definitely holds a meaning.
For the first time, your head and heart come up with the same conclusion.
Later that night, Jihoon is somewhat shocked to receive a call from you.
"Who's she, Ji?", you ask from the other side, "Why were you looking at her like that?"
He straight up knows whom you are talking about and he right away knows that you're drunk.
"Where are you? Are you alone?", he asks you, already looking for his car keys.
He hears something incoherent and presses the phone tighter against his ear.
"Tell me Ji, why were you looking at her like that?", you ask again.
He halts, "Like what?"
You hum and he hears a loud thud. There's a moment of silence and Jihoon is rooted, holding his breath.
Moments later, you speak again, "Like you used to look at me. Like you like her."
"Where are you, Y/N? Can you send me your location?", he tries to coax you, "I'll come right away, we'll talk. Please tell me where you are."
Another pause and just as he's about to speak again, he hears your sobs. His heart tightens in his chest.
"D-Did I already lose you, Ji?", comes your choked voice, "Did you give up on us? Why can't you like me again?"
There is no answer to your questions. 
"I love you.", you say, "I love you so much that it hurts. What do I do now? I-I think I love you way too much, much more than I thought. And I regret not telling you sooner."
Jihoon freezes, he's tongue tied, his knees almost giving up.
"And if this is the end of us, then--", the line disconnects. You've accidentally hung up.
He calls you back immediately but you don't pick up. Repeated calls, when they remain not received, he sends you a string of texts.
Already inside his car, he's about to drive away in search of you, aimlessly, when he receives a text from you.
'I'm at home.'
He let out a breath of relief, his mind pounding, his heart thumping because of your words from before.
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It's been over a month since Jihoon has seen or heard from you. For a week or two it was nice, not having you breathing on his neck felt refreshing. By the end of the third week he's worrying about you, his mind is relentlessly fogged with your thoughts. Mid of fourth week and he's contemplating whether to send you a text or ask Soonyoung to do it. 
It isn't relaxing anymore, it's stressful. It bothers him to all extent. He feels guilty about going overboard with his choice of words that night, he never meant to make you cry. He can't forget your drunk confessions either.
You are on a call with your mother who's nagging you to consider extending your stay when you go home for Christmas along with the equal urging of your sister and father. A lot of negotiations and you're finally agreeing to them.
"How's Jihoon? Any luck with the memories?", your sister, Eunha asks.
"Let's not talk about him.", you say after a beat, "I think, my relationship with Jihoon--", you halt, not being able to continue further, before the cracking of your voice gives it all away.
Eunha knows you better than anyone and sensing your tone, she's quick to assure you, "I've always admired your straight headedness. Whatever it is, I know you'll overcome it. And all of us are always there for you."
The doorbell rings and you frown, "Thanks Eun. I'll call you later, bye."
Checking the time and opening the door causes your frown to deepen. 
Jihoon sits on the couch, an awkward tension lingering in the atmosphere. And somehow it pains you to look at him, you're avoiding eye contact, looking everywhere but him, waiting for him to initiate the conversation.
A photo on the centre table catches Jihoon's attention and he picks it up, his curious eyes scrutinizing the faces. It's the two of you, an amusement park in the backdrop, grinning ear to ear, pressed cheek against cheek, radiating love through the photo itself.
You quickly snatch the frame out of his grip, setting it down on the same centre table.
"I hate amusement parks", Jihoon mutters more to himself but loud enough for your ears to pick up, "Because they're so crowded and everyone's screaming.", he looks up at you, "I went there with you?"
You just give a simple nod, no explanation, no backstory.
I love going to amusement parks. And you don't hate them anymore.
"Why are you here?", you ask him finally.
"I'm sorry.", he blurts out, "I'm really sorry for that night."
Your brows furrow for a moment before the neutral expression returns, "You didn't have to come here to apologise, a call would have sufficed."
For the record, you just know you had called him as an aftermath of that night but you don't remember, not even a bit of things you had said and you don't plan on bringing that up either.
Jihoon notices your defensiveness and to test it he stands up to walk towards you but you're immediately backing up.
"I'm feeling under the weather so if you're done, could you leave?", you speak still avoiding his gaze, "And I know you don't want me anywhere near you, rest assured I won't be a bother."
"What do you mean?", he asks closing in, "Are you still upset at me, even after I apologized?"
You keep stepping back, "I'm not upset. I'm just not feeling well, please leave."
I think you already replaced me, Ji.
Your back hits the wall and reaching you with long strides, Jihoon is caging you between the wall and his arms.
He hovers over you, "For the past months, you've been begging for my attention, trying everything to establish our relationship, so what happened, what's with this change in demeanour?"
He leans in, your faces merely an inch apart.
"Isn't this what you wanted?", your somber gaze meets his fiery ones.
He's not sure what he wants anymore.
"I have been having dreams about you, about us.", he admits, stepping away, "And I don't think they're just infringements of my imagination."
"What did you see?", your voice comes out in a whisper.
He then proceeds to tell you about the dreams and not so surprisingly you have stories and even photos for some cases to collate with his description of dreams.
"So did we record it as well?", Jihoon asks amused as you dab your hot pink cheeks, "I wanna see it though--"
You're slapping a hand on his mouth as he blatantly teases and asks you about the wet dreams he has been seeing which wakes him up with a tent in his pants.
"Let's brainstorm.", Jihoon is setting his briefcase on the table suddenly, taking out some flaps.
You eye him in suspicion, "Did you hit your head again, you're acting strange. You're acting like my Jihoonie."
The corners of his lips twitch, trying to suppress a smile, "Maybe your Jihoonie wants to make a comeback."
"I'll be waiting with my arms wide open, I miss my boyfriend.", you admit, your tone emitting sadness, your gaze meets his and you're smiling, "Thanks Jihoon."
Maybe that night at his workplace, you read it all wrong. Maybe your mind was too tired, your heart was too hurt so they made a fuss over nothing because you know your Jihoon would never do something to hurt you, even when he can't remember you. Even though his head can't recognise you, there's a hope that his heart would still beat for you.
He grins wider, "Don't get me wrong, I just came here to test your problem solving abilities."
"You should be thanking the heavens that I didn't choose law as my career, you'd have been jobless otherwise.", you retort smugly.
Maybe running your mouth isn't the best option, especially when with Jihoon because now he's running his fourth hypothetical case with you, pinching your arm whenever your drowsy eyes are shutting close.
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"Another wedding?", you hum in delight, "Ah, god bless you."
Joshua laughs, "Is it such good news to you that another of my friends is getting married?"
"Isn't it obvious? It keeps the business running.", you muse, eating the brownies he has baked for you, "This is the 4th one right? Why are all your friends getting married this year?"
Joshua ponders, "Beats me as well. How are the brownies, sweetheart? I tried a new recipe today."
"And it's my new favourite.", you say, making him grab a bite of his own baking, "Makes me wanna kiss your hands."
He unabashedly holds his hands to your face only to get a swat.
"That's not what you said you'd do, sweetheart.", he feigns offense, "Shouldn't you start commissioning me by now? I think I bring in a fair share of customers."
He's absolutely right. Joshua is people's people. Everyone knows him. You knew Soonyoung through Joshua, in fact most people know others via him. 
The common link, the mutual friend that everyone talks about is actually Joshua Hong. He's the gossip monger, nothing gets past him. Not even the fact that you had gotten into a relationship. 
You were an expert in keeping personal matters under the sleeves and as asked by Jihoon, only Soonyoung was made known. But two weeks under his observation and he's declaring that there's no point in hiding, that he can tell by your body language that you're dating.
You didn't deny, you knew Joshua is perceptive. Though you felt bad for hiding who you're dating, he waved it off with all smiles stating he'll get to know when the time is right.
"Correct, I should start commissioning you but for baking me the best confectioneries.", you chirp happily, "The lemon drizzle chocolate cake you made at the previous wedding, I can't stress how good it was. Only you could make chocolate and lime flavour work like magic."
"You look happy, sweetheart.", Joshua comments casually, "How's things going with Mr. Boyfriend?"
"It's complicated, Josh.", your mood sets down.
Joshua takes a look at your face and decides to drop the topic.
"What do you think of me, Josh?", you ask with a serious tone, throwing him off bound.
"You want the truth, sweetheart?", he asks softly, his hand already atop yours, rubbing your skin soothingly.
Just one please from you and Joshua is baring his heart out, "I don't know who made you doubt yourself but to me, you're my rock. I have tons of friends but you're among the ones I'd always seek solace. When I had no one, you were there to support me."
He smiles embarrassed as you catch his teary eyes. Joshua is always cheery but there are rare moments like this where you get to see his vulnerable side.
"I was almost out of business when you took me under your wing until I had accumulated enough capital and reputation to establish the standalone business.", he fondly pats your head, "You barely knew me then, just know that you saved my life back then. So I'd never accept anything apart from compliments from anyone about you."
"Joshua Hong, it's too early, don't make me cry.", you say wiping your tears.
His laugh reverberates pleasantly, "You look pretty even when crying, sweetheart."
"You mean ugly."
"I said what I meant, sweetheart."
You could never win against Joshua.
"You're going to Soonyoung's housewarming party right?"
"Only if you're going.", Joshua sighs, leaning back, stretching his arms, "Socializing can be pretty tiring, sweetheart, so I need you as my charge-up."
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Soonyoung thinks, no he's sure that Jihoon has been acting differently.
"Weeks ago", Soonyoung pulls up his phone, "I even have proof, you said you weren't coming to my housewarming party. I was hurt, I still am."
Jihoon grimaces.
"You said that you won't go if Y/N's going.", he almost shoves the phone on the lawyer's face, "And now you're here just to ask if she's coming. Why does it matter so much?"
Jihoon gets a little frightened when he sees Soonyoung holding up his hand. He's gonna count points now and after each point, Jihoon knows he's gonna get earfuls.
"First of all, I'm your friend so why does it matter who's coming or not. You should be there ", one finger down.
"Second, unlike you, Y/N is a decent person who doesn't abandon her friends.--"
"When did I abandon you--"
Without batting an eye, Soonyoung continues, "Third, I don't care if you're coming or not."
Jihoon cowers when Soonyoung puts his hand down smiling, almost eerie, "Now, tell me what changed? Are you getting your memories back?"
"Well maybe? First I've been having dreams, now they've turned into flashes. It has been difficult, this whole thing since the accident. But I think I'll get those missing pieces of my memories back soon.", Jihoon smiled wistfully.
"You better be on your knees and apologize to your girlfriend when you do so.", Soonyoung says with an undertone but smiles nonetheless, "I deserve an apology as well."
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"Did you just curse?", your brows crease. 
When there's nothing but silence that follows, your eyes squint as you speak again, "So you're not gonna answer me?"
Jihoon frowns, "Who's Joshua and why are you taking him with you as your plus one?"
"We both didn't have a plus one so we decided to go together, that's it.", you explain, "And I know you said you wouldn't go to the party if I go so what's the problem here?"
"Can you stop please?", he pouts and you fight back the strong urge to kiss it away, "It was before, now I want to go but with you."
You grin, "Sorry, but I can't ditch Josh. There's time, find someone."
He nods, accepting defeat. He follows you from the kitchen to the dinning as you set the plates on the table.
You both have fallen into a routine, Jihoon has been acting awfully comfortable around you lately. He drops by your place anytime, he knows your passcode. When you call to remind him about having meals he makes excuses to see you. 
"The lawsuit against the insurance company that I've been working on", he says sitting across from you, "The one we discussed last month, I am planning to try the method you suggested. You might be right, I think these people are collectively trying to extort money in the name of insurance from the company, all of them have huge debts piled up and they're in a closely knitted group."
"Jihoon, let me warn you, it might be the case that your client is actually the perpetrator. What would you do then? You're supposed to fight for your client, not against them. You'll lose trust, people won't come to you."
"Then let it be. Maybe I'd get less cases, but people who are wrongfully accused would have their trust in me. I won't side with those who are on the wrong side of the law."
You give him a proud smile as you both eat in a soothing silence before he leaves your apartment as it drizzles outside.
By the time Jihoon reaches his apartment, the dizzles have turned into a heavy downpour with lightning jagging across the sky. And by the time he's out of the shower he can hear the thunderstorms soaring.
His head hurts with an intensity causing his knees to buckle up. There's a flash again and despite the ache, he's searching for his car keys.
Yet another one of his numerous calls remains unreceived. With every second that ticks away, Jihoon feels his heart constricting. However, his eyes glints hope when he sees the glimpse of the familiar building, nearing it.
His nervousness causes him to mispunch the code a fair number of times. Entering, he comes across an expected sight. The surroundings are pitch black, just becoming visible when the lightning strikes. 
"Y/N?", he shouts. No response. He puts on the flashlight of his cell phone and starts searching for you cautiously. He takes a deep breath, all he has to do is search across a hall, two rooms and a kitchen.
"Y/N?", he shouts again. Still no response. Just as he's about to stride towards the bedroom, from the corner of his eyes he spots a silhouette somewhere in the kitchen. He turns, focusing the flashlight, to see your weak form. You are supporting yourself by the counter with your fingers jabbed into your ears. His gaze softens.
He lunges towards you, engulfing your shaking form into a tight hug, "Shh...I'm here."
"Ji...", you voice out weakly, wrapping your hands around his waist instantly. The call of this nickname stirs something within him. He rubs your back, peppering soft kisses on your forehead. Another lightning strikes and you're shivering in his embrace.  
The raindrops hitting the window panes erupts the stillness of the night. Only with the rain stopping, you find yourself calming down. And you find yourself in Jihoon's embrace.
"How did you-- Why did you come back?", you ask, pulling away but Jihoon doesn't let go of you.
He wipes your tears and observes you carefully, "Are you okay now?"
You nod, "Thanks, Jihoon."
"I felt like I needed to be with you. I don't know how but I just knew that you've astraphobia so I drove back as fast as I could."
You feel a sense of relief, "You already knew, you're just starting to get your memories back, Jihoon."
He stares at you, his eyes darting to your lips often. 
You stare back at him, his eyes asking for your permission.
There's an unspoken consent and instantly, his lips are on your. Pressed against the counter, he grabs the back of your neck deepening the kiss. His thumb runs against the column of your throat, making your head go dizzy.
You gasp into the kiss when he lifts and sets you up on the counter. 
"Ji..", you say breathlessly, "We probably shouldn't--"
His lips work now, trailing hot kisses down your neck and collarbone, "I want to love my girlfriend, is it so wrong?"
"Whom you don't even remember--", another kiss to shut you up. The way you moan is enough for Jihoon to almost make a mess in his pants. 
"Which room?", his voice is thick with desire as he carries you now, not breaking the intense eye contact. "Tell me before I fuck you against the wall.”
One hand slides between your legs while the other supports your weight, as he lays you on the bed his fingers exploring through the fabric of your dress. “Tell me to stop.", he whispers against your neck, nipping slightly.
"Don't stop, Ji", you whine and that breaks him completely. 
His breath catches in his throat at your intense gaze and he leans down to whisper in your ear his hands trail down your sides, making you shiver. His hands push your panties down, sliding the fingers across your wet slit, “Was it lonely here without me?”
“Please Ji, need you.”
With a gentle yet firm grip, he holds your wrists above your head. “You're so adorable when you're needy like this…”, he presses his lips to your neck, trailing kisses downwards, “Such a perfect, impatient thing.”
He hooks his fingers in your thighs, pulling your legs around his waist as he settles between your thighs. He looks down at you with loving eyes, his voice dropping to a husky whisper "My love, you're killing me with these eyes.”
Your body moves on its own, trying to find friction, soft gasps coming out each time you feel his hard clothed length.
A deep chuckle escapes him, "So responsive. Is this what you wanted? To make me go wild?" He leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss while one hand traces your curves, “Such a good girl.”, he whispers against your lips.
He breaks the kiss to look into your eyes, his own burning with desire, "I'm going to take you hard and fast, tonight.”
A wolfish grin spreads across his face at your eager response. In one swift motion, he tears off your clothes, leaving you bare before him. His eyes darkens with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "Damn, you're gorgeous." he growls, quickly shedding his own clothes.
He settles back between your thighs, his hardness pressing urgently against you. With a sharp inhale, he slides into your welcoming heat, filling you completely. "Fuck, you feel incredible," he groans, setting a relentless pace. His hips snapping against yours with each powerful thrust.
He leans down to roughly claim your lips, swallowing your moans as he continues his frenzied pace. His hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place. "Take it, baby. Take every inch of my cock.”
“Fuck, missed you so much Ji, missed being ruined by you.”, you say in between of sobs and gasps, clenching around him.
His movements become more urgent, more possessive. He knows you're close, and it only spurs him on, "Squeeze me just like that. Milk my cock with your perfect little pussy.”
With a feral growl, he buries himself deeper inside you, grinding against your g-spot as he unleashes a torrent of thrusts. Your screams of pleasure fill the room as you reach your peak, your inner walls convulsing around his pistoning cock.
As you come down from your high, he continues to pound into you mercilessly, seeking his own release. His face contorts with pleasure as he chases his climax, his body glistening with sweat. 
With one final, brutal thrust, he explodes inside you, his hot seed filling your womb as he roars his release. He collapses on top of you, his heavy breathing the only sound in the room as he tries to catch his breath. "Fuck... Are you okay?”
He nuzzles his face against your neck, his body still trembling as he asks softly, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" 
His large hands gently roam your body, checking for any bruises or marks from his rough handling. "Answer me, please?”
A sigh of relief escapes him as he feels your gentle nod against his cheek. "Good", he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. He gently nips at your lower lip, "Though I do need to lotion those lovely handprints on your hips... they're quite noticeable.”
“If I let you, it'll lead to another round.”, you say, still breathless and smiling.
“I wouldn't mind. Would you?”, he waggles his eyebrows comically, trying to elicit another giggle from you and maybe get inside you again.
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Seeing the crowd, you realize that Soonyoung, if not as much as Joshua, is quite popular.
There's a very limited amount of people you can recognise and the majority you don't. You stick close to Joshua and leave his side when the flock of people keep coming and greeting him.
"There you are.", Soonyoung smiles as you hand him a gift, "How's things going?"
You understand the insinuation, giving a genuine wide grin, "A lot better, you must be knowing, he's getting his memories back bit by bit."
He pats on your shoulder, "Soon, he'll be remembering it all."
Though it's crowded but there's a touch of coziness, you like the atmosphere. Taking permission from Soonyoung, you make a quick tour of his new house. It's impressive, it's warm given the purpose, he bought this house to settle in once he gets married. His parents, including him, have been looking for a partner for him.
You conquer a table at the corner, sitting quietly and sipping on the drink that the host himself has given you. 
"There you are, sweetheart.", Joshua settles beside you, taking a sip of what you were drinking.
Joshua is extremely fun and must have a person to be around, specially at the parties. He would point at random people and drop the juiciest gossip about them. What makes it more interesting is that Joshua's memory is photographic and storytelling is top notch.
You'd ask him about something that occurred four years ago he'd be spilling it all out unabashedly, doesn't even need a brush up.
'Just got here, Soonyoung told me you're in the lawn, I'll come and find you.'
A smile creeps up on your face as you read the text from Jihoon, keeping your phone aside.
Joshua demands your attention once again as he points at a woman, wearing an unmistakable neon coloured jacket.
"That's Arong", he says, "Runs her own boutique. She's a Richie rich."
You squint your eyes to figure her out and surprisingly she's someone you know. She's the same woman you had seen visiting Jihoon's office.
With your interest picked, you ask, "How do you know her?"
"We're good friends, went to the same university.", Joshua eyes glint as if he remembers something amusing, excitedly turning his head to look at you, "She's quite a character you know, she used to hangout with a guy discreetly. I think they had the same group and wanted to keep it low. She's not the kind to commit to a relationship."
You listen quietly.
His eyes turn big, emitting specks of energy as he continues, "Here's the interesting part. She knew that the guy liked her, even after that, she indulged him, went on dates, hooked up with him, all of this went on casually. But when the guy finally asks her out, she brushes him off."
Joshua laughs, "Can you believe it? She doesn't even reject him, she just brushes him off. Imagine the humiliation the guy faced.", he quotes, "By the way, it's not her first drill. From what I heard, all her words not mine, that the guy was really invested in her and wasn't willing to give up, must be a romantic kind. It's kinda blurred out on what happened but she did kinda bruise his ego."
There's something unsettling about this whole narrative. You don't know why but your chest caves in.
"So some days later, he comes back only to tell her that he's dating. Such a foul move.", he sighs, "Amidst all of this, I feel bad for the girl he is dating. I mean she's basically a rebound and probably doesn't even know. It was so wrong, he shouldn't have played it like that. How can he play with someone's feelings when he has practically gone through that himself?"
"When did this happen, Josh?", you ask in a quiet voice, "Do you know his name?"
Joshua ponders for a moment, of course he remembers, "This happened almost three years ago. If I had to be specific, hmm, I think it's around when you start dating as well.", he misses the way face pales, "I don't know his name but I have seen him once or twice while I was face timing Arong. Not sure if he's invited to this party."
'Found ya.'
Your phone buzzes with Jihoon's text and you look ahead to see him walking towards you. 
"That's him!", Joshua points out at Jihoon, "He's the guy we just talked about! Oh my god, why is he coming towards us?", he turns his head again to look at you, "Do you know him?"
It all makes sense now. Jihoon's agreement to date you, to him emphasising on keeping it hidden, to his non commitmental attitude. You've been played. You should have known.
Jihoon is in front of you now and all you tell Joshua before walking out is, "Stop Jihoon from following me."
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The party was on Sunday and it's Friday when you decide that you won't be taking any more work, won't work except for the scheduled ones, to give yourself a long break. It feels rewarding after spending effort tirelessly throughout the year.
You're exhausted physically, mentally and unavailable emotionally.
Ending things with Jihoon was easy because there wasn't anything to end in the first place. 
You've met Arong, you've met her in the presence of Joshua, Soonyoung and Jihoon himself. This was specially to let Jihoon know what he has done, to hold  him accountable for something that doesn't remember. 
"I'm breaking up with you."
You aren't crying, not a single choke in your voice, eyes void of any emotion.
"Since you don't remember any of it, not even us being in some sort of relationship", your hands ball into a fist, gaze lowering, "And since none of it was ever real, I'm sure you're relieved."
"Y/N, please--"
"If you ever get your memories back, please don't make it an excuse to come see me. I don't want to see or talk to you ever again."
Jihoon grabs your hand once you turn to walk out, "I don't believe that I could do something like this. I'll get my memories back and when I do, let me--" 
"No don't.", Joshua steps up, yanking your arm out of his grip, "Didn't you hear what she said?"
"And who are you to come between us?"
"Someone who's does not play with feelings."
And all of a sudden there's a scuffle. Jihoon is grabbing the collar of the shirt Joshua's wearing and the latter tackles him down on the ground.
You watch in horror, as the two grown men indulge in a fight where the rest had to step in to separate them.
"The audacity, ridiculous!", Joshua huffs as you and Arong hold him.
"Says the one who doesn't know boundaries!", comes Jihoon's retort in Soonyoung's hold.
His eyes dart back at you, holding so much vulnerability that if you hadn't known the truth, he'd be in your arms by now.
"Y/N, I don't believe that it was all an act, that I hadn't fallen in love with you. It can't be, my head might not remember but my heart has definitely not forgotten you."
You chuckle bitterly, "That's delirium, Jihoon. You're busted and now making excuses. You had something important to tell me, you were on the phone with me when the accident happened. The way you had been acting before that, I'm sure you were going to break up with me. So save it. We're done. It's over."
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"To the last wedding of the year!"
You raise your glass to the toast absentmindedly, waiting for the head of catering services to finish his speech.
"We're done with the headache.", Wonwoo leans in to speak into your ear.
A slap on his arm but you're laughing nonetheless, "You shouldn't be saying that."
Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo enunciates, "They asked for the change of flower arrangement three times. You know how difficult it is to convince the suppliers at the last moment."
You give him a pat on his shoulder, "You did great as always though. Imagine being in Joshua's shoes, he had to add two tiers to the cake as a last moment request."
"He's a saint for agreeing to it, I'd never--"
"Wonu, that's our job, as long as it's not unrealistic, we'll try to fulfil it.", your tone is reprimanding.
"So we're leaving as planned on the weekend right?", he speaks over your shoulder, as you check off the items from the inventory list.
You both are now behind the barracks, wrapping things up, "Yes.", turning to look at him you thank him, "Also, sorry for crashing in the trip along with Junhee."
"Oh please, my girlfriend absolutely loves you, maybe more than me? And your house is literally on the way, so no sweat at all", Wonwoo laments, shaking his head, "Junhee has been feeling guilty about what happened. She blames herself, you met Jihoon because he was handling her aunt's case back then."
"It's not her fault. I'll talk to her, maybe she needs some lecture on how to not connect dots every time.", you frown, "And thanks. I'm glad that I got some people who are genuine even though my person wasn't."
All Wonwoo does is give you an empathetic smile.
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Jihoon leaves no stones unturned.
"Doctor, I'm willing to do anything", his hands are clasped in desperation, "Please, help me get my memories back."
The doctor sighs, he's tired of seeing Jihoon's face every other day. The doctor gets the urgency but his patient is not understanding the implications.
"What do I need to do? Any brain exercising? New medicines? I'm ready to be a guinea pig for scientific research as well. Just name it, I'll do it if it brings my memories back."
His house is a mess. He's searching every corner, every shelf, every drawer but he gets nothing significant, nothing to get back his memories of you.
Soonyoung quietly watches over as Jihoon lays in slumber. He was finally able to get his friend to sleep, an attempt to free him from restlessness even if it's for limited time.
He can't bear to see his dear friend in this condition anymore and almost calls you but he doesn't because it's not his place. He only hopes for you both to be freed of despair.
The hunt goes on, Jihoon looks like a wreck, he is a wreck. Tries to hit his head again, thanks to Soonyoung's presence he's saved, tries unprescribed/unwarranted pills for memory loss and gets admitted to hospital. Vomits tons, loses appetite along with weight.
A hard slap lands across his face and Jihoon winces. Soonyoung had enough. He gives him a diary which Jihoon recognises as his own.
"I found this on top of the almirah, while you were admitted. You can search the obvious places. I haven't gone through it but it's your personal diary. Hopefully this will help."
And it certainly does. Maybe the accident had made him forget about his most important habit. He goes through it, consumes whatever he has written.
Each page hits a nerve, bringing back visions.
He now knows two things, he definitely liked Arong and found you annoying.
When Arong rejected him, he wasn't surprised. He knew Arong, he knew it was something she could pull. His heart wasn't bruised, it was his ego. He couldn't take it.
And you came into the picture, an annoying woman who likes him. Even though he's a rational lawyer, his practicality leaves him when goes by when decides to follow the classic 'to get over someone is to get under someone else'.
It was fine, he found you tolerable. But his initial plan of breaking up after dating a few months started to crumble when he found himself worrying about you, wanting to see you more and yearning for you more. He was rational after all, so he knew it was him changing. His feelings for you ran deeper than what he had for Arong.
He realised that he liked Arong but he loved you, he loves you now.
And as the realisation settles in again, into the present Jihoon, he falls apart.
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You don't like the vibe, no you hate it. Your mother doesn't stop making your favourite dishes, your sister doesn't even throw banter, always agreeing with whatever you're suggesting for Christmas tree decoration and your father keeps on buying you presents discreetly which is also not so discreet.
And somehow, Seungkwan, your sister's boyfriend, is walking on eggshells whenever he's around you.
You miss the laughs, you miss the dramatics, you miss the goofiness.
"I'm not dying, y'all. This isn't the end of the world either."
Silence.
"Can we get back to normal? You all are being extraordinarily nice to me and every time you do so I think about the reason and it makes me think about him which is certainly what I don't wanna do."
You lower your gaze again, mind involuntarily going back to Jihoon, the way he fooled you within the entire span of your relationship. Your naive nature acts as a blindfold, causing you to trust people easily and you take pride in it because you are surrounded by good people who never took advantage of it but that's until Jihoon happened.
You gave him your heart, he crumpled upon it and your trust, he stomped on it.
"We're re-doing the deco of the Christmas tree, it's awful.", your sister, Eunha proclaims, "You just sit and watch."
You look at her, a smile gracing your lips and it's contagious, everyone is smiling.
And follows chaos, returns the banter and it's all over the place as the liveliness reappears. You watch it all with your lips curl up.
Christmas comes as fast and you're really excited, first because you know this year you're getting most gifts, second, like every time you won't have to leave the day after, you have a whole month to yourself, to be around your loved ones.
The house lights up in your favourite colours and you chirp around the house happily.
"So when are you going to propose?", you bump his shoulder, whispering into his ear as he prepares the batter for the cake.
Being the dramatic he is, Seungkwan gasps, glares and bumps back at you, "March, on her birthday. She'd like the ring right?"
"She'd love it, it's so beautiful. I can't wait to capture how ugly she'd look while crying.", you laugh at the thought.
"Hey! Watch it, she'll be beautiful even if she snots.", he retorts, "Our babies will be pretty."
"Oh my god, such a simp.", you fake a gag, "I'm gonna puke."
He suddenly pats your back, without looking at you and that somehow conveys that he's there for you.
As the night draws in, you excuse yourself and beeline into your room, locking the door, giving your parents and your sister and her boyfriend some time to themselves. They are bundled on the couch and the carpet in pairs sharing loving gazes and gentle touches.
As you lay on the bed, your favourite pillow starts to get stained with your tears. Your body shakes with sobs as you hide your face behind your palms.
You miss Jihoon.
You miss his voice, his laughs. You miss his silent affection, the way his gaze affirmed many unspoken words.
It's been four months since you called off things. And it hurts how easy it was for him to accept it all, the lack of contact says it all. You haven't blocked him anywhere and he hasn't tried reaching you either.
Why would he? You gifted him the only thing he wanted from you, a break up. Maybe love isn't the same for all, maybe it doesn't come in the same form.
There are repeated knocks on your door and you lay holding your breath, hoping whoever is on the other side thinks that you've fallen asleep and leaves.
The knocks don't stop, they only become frantic and you hear Eunha's distraught voice, "Y/N, you need to be out asap. Only you can stop dad please!"
What could have happened? You rush off to the bathroom to wash your face before opening the door.
You freeze watching the scene unfold.
Jihoon getting on his knees at the doorstep, bowing his head down in front of your seething father who's holding an umbrella, it's end pointed at him.
"Sir.", he calls your father calmly, bringing everyone's attention back to him.
"You must know what I have done to your daughter. I'm ready for whatever punishment you have for me."
He looks at you, as if his words are for you, "Beat me as much as you want, don't look at my face if it disgusts you but when your rage resides please hear me out. I won't leave until you listen to me. So if you want to get rid of me, you'll have to listen to me.", Jihoon gives a sad smile before grabbing the edge of the umbrella and resting it on his shoulder.
"Have you gone mad?", you scold him, "Get up."
He raises his hand to stop you from rushing towards him. He chooses to ignore your words, his gaze trained on your father.
"Are you contemplating, Sir?", he chortles, "Wasn't it bad enough, what I did to your daughter?"
You shake your head, closing your eyes. You know what Jihoon is doing, he's provoking your father and everyone else.
The rage that had subsided a bit, seems to reignite as your father tightens his grip on the object on his hand.
And you could only watch through it.
"She's the youngest of the household, we've raised her with love, pampered her to bits!"
"The last thing we want is to see her in tears that too on a day like this!"
"How dare you show your face here after breaking her heart in the worst way?"
And the words keep pouring in.
Jihoon is squeezing your arm into a tight grip, hissing in pain.
"What's your motive this time?", you ask while dabbing one of the bruises with disinfectant, particularly hard making him wince, "The Lee Jihoon, I know doesn't care about anyone except himself."
Jihoon's unwavering gaze does nothing to answer your queries and you refuse to meet his eyes.
"You can stay in my room for the night, leave by tomorrow morning, as early as possible."
Just as you get up to leave, he stands as well, blocking your path.
"I lost the insurance lawsuit case.", he says, searching for your eyes, "I ratted out my own clients."
"You came all the way here just to tell me this?"
He shakes his head down, with a small stretch of lips. When he looks up again you're shocked to see tears in his eyes.
"I got my memories back, Y/N.", his voice cracks, "All of them."
"Great.", you scoff in distaste, "I had already warned you to not make it an excuse to see me."
He kneels again, on both knees, "Would you please give me a chance to explain?"
You hate it to admit but you've never seen Jihoon this vulnerable. If anything, he's the type to carry pride and arrogance in his aura. He has never (his words) bowed to anyone and here he is doing it for the second time tonight.
"Jihoon, it doesn't matter anymore. You may not have loved me for even a moment, but I did, with all my heart. And I don't want to go through it all over again.", you say, urging him to be on his feet, "It won't change our past, but it has definitely changed the way I am going to perceive people now."
Jihoon lets out a sob and you freeze.
"I love you, Y/N.", he chokes out in words, as his sobs turn into cries, "That was what I was going to tell you on the day of the accident. I had been so ansty because I realised I was in love, I was going to come clean, I was going to confess."
"I just wanted a honesty in our relationship, you built it entirely around the other way. You didn't love me when we got together but I thought you did and this is the pressing wound, I have."
You don't let him speak further, after putting a very restless Jihoon to sleep on your bed, you ponder over a lot of things.
It's been over a month and the dynamics between you two has changed. When Jihoon begged and begged to give him a chance, to prove himself worthy of you, you denied at first. You had forgotten how persistent Jihoon could be, how convincing he can be.
"Our relationship will be on a trial basis. And there are rules.", you declare with a bored expression, "First, you can't tell anyone we're dating. Second, don't expect me to update you about anything, if I feel like you'll get to know, if not then you won't. Third, skinship is allowed only behind closed doors. You have six months and if within that I feel like you're worthy, we make it public or we part ways."
You give it a last try, to push his buttons and make him admit that he can't be bothered to do this. That he isn't the kind to work under conditions. You're sure that this is when he finally stops.
The corners of your lips twitch as you suppress your triumphant smile. By the way Jihoon stays silent, you're sure he's speechless. And it's just a matter of time he walks out, he walks away from your life.
"I agree with all of it." he says with sincerity, "For the following six months, I'll be the boyfriend, you want me to be. Mold me into anything, I'll take the shape of your like."
Your heart constricts, brain shots, stupid senses, you wanna scream. You swear you'll break him under your watch, it won't be a month and he'll be bailing out.
And Jihoon swears, he'll get you back, that this time, that he'll love you right.
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It's Eunha's birthday and Seungkwan made you arrange a big event since she's gonna get proposed. 
You can't stress how nervous you are even after trying your best to suit the taste of everything to be of Eunha's liking along with calming Seungkwan who's about to puke anytime because of his anxiety hitting the roofs.
And now your sister's crying, her now fiancé is crying but you're bawling. It's so beautiful, the entire scene that it makes you a bit too emotional, so you go out to breathe some fresh air and calm your nerves.
You feel a presence beside you and suddenly your head is being downed on a shoulder.
"I have kept your favourite chocolates in your purse. Have them to calm your nerves, your cycle date is approaching. I have restocked the supplies.", Jihoon says, "And made sure that no one is watching us now."
You tangle your arm with his and watch the stars in awe.
"One of your aunts kept asking me if I am single since you introduced me as your friend.", he says, leaning his head against yours.
"What did you say?"
"That I am taken and so in love."
Your heart flutters.
Jihoon has become calmer than he already was. He does everything you say, no questions asked. He waits for you inside his car every night to escort you when you're done for the day. He texts you frequently, though it's mostly monologue without any expectations of getting a reply.
He sleeps on the same bed if you ask him to, he takes the couch when you don't. There's always an ask of consent if he wants a kiss.
Nothing is out of scope, he'll bring you the moon if you want it.
"You look the prettiest tonight, you always do.", he kisses the top of your head, "Thanks for wearing the brooch, I bought you."
"Jihoon", you look up, your face perched on his shoulder blade and gazes meeting, "Why do you always look at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like you love me.", your hand slips into his and he encases it as if his life depends on it.
"I do love you.", comes his immediate assurance, "I may not use nicknames, not big on PDA and not be expressive on texts. But I love you and even though I was late to confess the last time I hope at some point I made you feel loved, made you see that guy who's usually not a fan of skinship initiated hugs and held hands, who hates amusement parks had planned every outing there because you like it, who doesn't like carrots either but picks them out of your plate so you don't have to feel guilty for throwing them."
Tears prick at the corner of your eyes and do his.
It's true. Now as well, Jihoon doesn't text 'I love you's, doesn't use nicknames, nor does he gushes over. He's still silent, acts of service loud enough as his love language.
Jihoon looks away, exhaling sharply, "I'm sorry, I started dating to rebound. I think I'll regret this as long as I'm alive."
"I'm on a mission and you're making it impossible to follow through."
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It's snowing. Jihoon, as usual, waits for you to wrap things up. Today, he's standing in a corner, inside the venue as snow pours outside.
You are almost done with stuffs when you spot him. He smiles, eyes forming slits as you walk up to him.
His presence, you think, feels like a fresh breath in the hustle. You're just about to greet him when--
"Y/N!", you turn back to hear the yell of your name only to find one of your colleagues, Ahin, rushing towards you, "You forgot to take the inventory list."
Jihoon takes it as que to leave your side. He's about to turn but freezes when Ahin asks, "Who's he?"
As practiced, as he's been doing it for months, he's about to answer, "I'm her friend--"
"Boyfriend.", you cut him off, taking the papers from her hand, "This is Jihoon, my boyfriend."
Ahin is shocked, Jihoon goes stiff and you bite your lips to suppress your laugh. You know tomorrow's gonna be chaos at work.
As Jihoon crosses the threshold of your apartment, he's pressed against the closed door.
Your lips press on his with intensity while his hands tangle in your hair. It's a full makeout session and you're pulling him into the bedroom.
"Since when am I your boyfriend?", there's a tease in his tone as he looks up from between your legs, his chin glistening from your juices, "I thought we still have a month left?"
"Consider this as an early promotion.", you grab a fistful of his hair and push back his mouth to work on cunt, "Let's love now, Ji. Let's be together and happy."
"Let's love then.", he dives in, his tongue parting your folds and finding your clit. He circles it slowly, then sucks gently, coaxing a needy whimper from your lips.
He continues lavishing attention on your clit, his tongue alternating between rapid flicks and slow, sensual licks. One hand slides up to caress your breast, teasing your nipple gently. His other hand grips your hip, holding you steady as he pleasures you thoroughly.
"Ji, fuck!", your heads befalls on the pillows, eyes close shut.
His mouth is relentless, your pleasure his sole focus. He eats you out with abandon, his own hunger evident in the way he devours you. Your cries and whimpers only spur him on, his tongue never stopping its assault on your sensitive clit, "Fuck, you taste so good."
"Ji, can't hold back anymore", you're whimpering as the fisting on his hair tightens.
Upon hearing your breathy confession, Jihoon doubles his efforts, his tongue now moving in tight, rapid circles around your clit. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them just right to stimulate that perfect spot, "That's it, come for me. Wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue."
He can feel you tensing, your hips bucking against his face as you get closer to the edge. He growls around your sensitive flesh, the vibrations pushing you closer. He hooks his fingers deeper inside you, rubbing that spot mercilessly, "Now, Love now."
He continues to lick and suck, drawing out your orgasm until you're a quivering mess beneath him. Only then does he pull back, his chin glistening with your arousal. He climbs up your body, capturing your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, letting you taste yourself on his lips.
He smiles against your lips feeling your fingers working on the button on his trouser.
"You'll have to leave early tomorrow morning," he says, grabbing both of your hands, "This was for you to have a sound sleep."
"But--"
"You can have me all you want tomorrow, after you return.", he is already descending down the bed to bring warm washcloth to clean you up, "Promise."
"Ji, next month, I'll be gone for a week."
Jihoon hums, as he cleans you up gently, "A destination wedding right?"
You hum sleepily, "Do you wanna join? We could extend the stay and use it as a break."
"I'll check my schedule and let you know. It's a good idea actually."
"I love you, Ji.", your drowsiness amuses Jihoon, as he watches you fall into slumber, "Wanna brainstorm cases with you for the rest of my life."
He presses a soft kiss on your forehead, listening to your soft snores, "And all I wanna do is be the best partner to you. I love you too, dearest darl+ing."
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cressidagrey · 19 hours ago
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Such A Mystery - Part 12 - The End
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 
Warnings: 
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 12 of 12!
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They were alone. Just the three of them.
Colette had never felt so exhausted in her entire life. But she had also never been so happy. Charlie had been fed once more and had then fallen back asleep, curled up on her father’s chest. Colette herself could barely keep her eyes open.
And she should be sleeping, but she could only watch her daughter curled up against Max's chest.
"How did we manage to create something so perfect?" She asked him softly.
Max let out a tired little huff of laughter, not bothering to open his eyes. “She is perfect, isn’t she?” he murmured quietly.
Colette felt a smile tugging at her face. “Perfect and absolutely beautiful,” she agreed quietly, shifting a little to get a better look at the two of them. "So perfect it almost hurts to look at her."
Max smiled at her. "I...There is this thing you should know," he said hesitantly.
Something about his tone, the hesitance in his voice, made Colette pause. "What is it?" she asked curiously.
"I may have told the whole world about us? On Instagram?" he admitted with a grimace.
She could only snort at that. "I think your father made sure that that cat was out of the bag," she told him drily. "What did you say?"
"That we have been a couple for 15 years. That I couldn't be happier with you and our little family," he said simply. "I wanted everybody to hear our truth," Max said softly. "Not what other people write."
"There is a romantic inside you after all," Colette teased him softly.
"You aren't angry?" Max checked.
Colette sighed. "Not at you," she said simply. "I can't be angry at you. You just want people to know how happy we are together. We kept it quiet for years for me," Colette said, staring at her daughter. "Is it weird that it feels like she put everything into perspective?" she asked him, nodding towards Charlie. "I just...I don't care anymore,” she admitted.
Max stared at her, blue eyes wide, but Colette just shrugged. “I was terrified for so long what people were going to think about me once they knew about us...but now...I don't care. What does it matter?"
Max reached over and laced his fingers through hers. "It doesn't," he promised her. "I'll start screaming it from the rooftops tomorrow, if you'll let me."
A laugh escaped her before she could stop it. "I think the media already knows," she teased, squeezing his hand. "We can just put my Instagram on public and let them eat their heart out," she suggested. It wasn’t meant seriously. Not really. 
But the more she thought about it, she wondered if that was what it was going to take. Opening up the digital scrapbook of her life. Letting anybody have a peek at their relationship. Hoping that finally they would understand.
"We'd break the internet," Max retorted, grinning at her.
Colette laughed. "We really, really would. Reason enough  to do it?" she teased him.
"And give my PR team a heart attack? Absolutely,” Max returned immediately. “Tell me when.” 
"I love you," she told him seriously. "And I am ready to love you in public too."
She had done it from the shadows for 15 years after all.
He stared at her. "Are...Are you sure?"
"I am very, very sure, mon coeur," Colette told him softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The only opinion that matters to me is yours - and my family's. I don't care what anyone else thinks," she added, glancing down at Charlie again, who slept blissfully on, cuddled against Max's chest.
"If people want to call me an attention whore or a gold digger, they are welcome to it," Colette said quietly. "I don't care. I'm happy and you're happy and our baby is happy. Let them write whatever they want."
***
"Marry me," Max blurted out.
His words came out of his mouth before he had even realised what he was saying. The room suddenly became very quiet, as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of it, and Max suddenly realised that he had just blurted out the question he had been meaning to ask for months, at a time that couldn’t be further from ideal.
Colette was staring at him, her eyebrows raised and a look of surprise on her face. She seemed frozen and totally caught off guard by his question. And he didn’t blame her for that. She was exhausted, and had just given birth, and here he was, bombarding her with questions as if this was the perfect moment to do it.
But then she smiled at him. 
"Yes," Colette said simply. "Always yes. You know that.”
Relief surged through him so strongly, Max thought he might just about collapse. She had said yes.
Granted she had said yes the last time as well. 
He remembered that day like it had been yesterday…remembered coming home that May evening in 2016…Fuelled with adrenaline from his first “proper” win. Remembered the trophy that still had a place of pride in their living room…the bottle of champagne, the Pirelli cap…and the ring that he had bought after that race. The celebratory crepes for breakfast the next day where still a tradition they kept with. 
Max felt like he could have exploded there and then, just from happiness. He couldn’t believe that he had just asked her, that she had just said yes. It didn’t feel real. It felt like something out of a dream.
"Yes?" he repeated incredulously, just to make sure he hadn’t actually dreamt it. "You’ll marry me?"
"Properly this time," she teased him, with the most beautiful smile on her face, as she leane up to press a kiss against his lips. “I’ll marry you, Maxie.”
He couldn’t stop himself from laughing, the sound breathless. It wasn’t just exhaustion that made him sound like that, it was disbelief, a sort of giddy lightness.
"Properly this time," he echoed back to her, his words soft. "You’ll marry me properly."
He couldn’t actually believe she was saying yes. "I do have a ring," he assured her. "It's at home. I hid it in the trophy."
Colette laughed. "Of course, you hid it in the trophy," she repeated, her voice warm and amused."Of course you did."
Max gave her what he hoped was at least a resemblance of a sheepish look. “Where else would it be safe?” he said defensively. "And I know you wouldn't look there," he added.
"A perfect place to hide something you don't want me to find," Colette agreed.
Max grinned at her. "Exactly," he said happily, gently brushing her hair from her face.
"Which trophy?" she asked him seriously.
"Spain 2016," he answered honestly. His first one. The one. 
"You hid it in the 2016 trophy?" Colette repeated, her smile widening into a grin. "Really?"
"Just felt appropriate,” he answered honestly. He still remembered handing it to Colette for the first time, the ring that he had bought clanging around in the bottom of it. 
"It is," she agreed softly, leaning up to press a kiss against his lips.
Max smiled against her mouth, his arms tightening around her, pulling her a little closer. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. He couldn’t believe he had just blurted out the one question he had been wanting to ask for ages, and she had actually just said yes.
"You’re really going to marry me," he mumbled against her mouth, unable to help the words. "You’re actually going to marry me."
"I had your baby, but this is what shocks you?" Colette asked him with a laugh. 
He laughed, pulling her closer again and nuzzling his face into her shoulder, her words causing him to blush faintly. “I love you,” he mumbled against her skin quietly.
"I love you too," she echoed back quietly. "And yes, I will marry you. As many times as you’ll ask."
"I am the luckiest man in the whole world," he said softly.
"No, I’m the luckiest," she told him gently, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. "To have you, and this, and Charlie, and all of it. It’s everything I ever wanted.”
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ivymarquis · 2 days ago
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Say You Won't Let Go
Greedy Little Thing
Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 4.3k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Zombie!AU, PiV, Oral (F!Receiving), pregnancy sex, wee bit of lactation kink
First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
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If you thought your solo play time in the shower would calm you down, you thought wrong. 
You’re truly spinning out and losing your mind. That is the only reasonable explanation for the level of arousal flooding your system at the moment. 
All of a sudden you can’t help but be keyed into John’s every move. And surely you are projecting every depraved thought squirming around in your little brain- you’re imagining that he’s encroaching that much more into your personal space. His hands- broad and warm- gentle as always feel a bit firmer with his hold as he either brushes past you or herds you where he wants you.
You’re distracted, eyes fixated at the boarded up windows like they’re a big screen showing your favorite sitcom. The book you found lies open on the table, failing to capture your interest in favor of your imagination. Of another universe where John’s interest isn’t a figment of your imagination and he’s willing to do something about it. 
“Something on your mind, Love?” John’s voice startles you out of your thoughts and has you jumping on reflex. “Easy- ‘s just me,” he soothes as he crosses the distance from the doorway to the table you’re sitting at. 
“Nothing important,” you answer breezily, trying desperately to hide that you were just thinking about the various ways he could fold you like a piece of paper. Can always lie and claim to be reminiscing on the past.
He has no reason to doubt you, the rumbling hum of acknowledgment from him showing that you’ve not gained any unwanted attention. 
You don’t know what’s wrong with you, what all of a sudden has you acting like a cat in heat. The only thing you haven’t done at this point is lift your skirts and bend over the table in invitation. 
Any hope you may have of getting back into your book is dashed as he comes closer. 
You’ve never been one to fixate on how a man smells- and not even cologne, since that’s not an option these days really. But how he actually smells- you have no idea if you’re pulling off subtle well, but he smells divine and you know nothing will get done if you don’t get a hold of yourself. 
Hopefully your sinful thoughts are not evident on your face, but if they are then he doesn’t call you on it. 
It’s not uncommon for John to leave you alone for stretches and sporadically swing by to check on you. You know he’s in the neighborhood lurking for supplies and hoping to scrap up radio parts. 
The drop ins soothe your anxiety- that he is just across the street, or a few houses down. 
Although it’s still the end of the world and anything can happen. You begrudgingly accept that he has to leave on occasion so you don’t starve to death in the middle of winter in this frozen tundra.
“Gonna need to go further out today, Love. Not sure when I’ll be back.”
Your displeasure is blatant across your face. 
“None of that, now,” he reproaches firmly. “I’ll come back when I can. I want you back upstairs before the sun goes down.”
You’re pouting like a child, your earlier fantasies completely derailed as your thoughts swirl around the anxiety of being abandoned. Of course there’s a part of you that knows this is an inevitability. There’s only so many supplies in the area. John is reluctant to move you, knowing that the pair of you are relatively safe and hidden which means he’ll have to move further out to scavenge to care for you.
Your lack of an immediate response prompts him to reach out and cup your face, prying your mind from your surly thoughts. By now you know him well enough to understand the cue for what it is- a silent ask for you to soften back up to him and quit being a brat about him leaving. 
The logical part of your brain understands that there’s no choice considering you don’t wish to starve to death. Unfortunately until further notice your hormones are what call the shots so you can’t help yourself other than to be in duress over the thought of John leaving you for more than a few hours. 
“Why are you being difficult, hm?” He ponders, tone substantially softer than one might expect.
“I’m not trying to be,” you protest gently, settling into his hold. 
“And yet here we are,” his tone is more amused than anything else.
His free hand drops to your belly, something that immediately garners the attention of your baby who gives a volley of kicks. 
“You can’t wind him up and then leave me here alone to deal with him,” now it’s your turn to reproach John good naturedly.
Again, you blame your hormones. You like John’s hands on you- like John touching you. 
“He’ll be a good lad for his mummy, won’t he?” He prompts the baby, and you don’t protest as his hand smooths down your belly. 
This time your child is not called to action, deciding to spare your poor ribs from another litany of kicks. You decide to not question the way he immediately quiets down at John’s prompting. 
Despite the conversation you just had, you can’t help but pout and mope as John leaves. You keep it to yourself, even though you know your anxiety is bleeding through and he knows exactly what your thoughts on the matter are. 
There’s nothing to be done for it though, so you’re left alone with nothing but Fred’s shadow and your child for company.
You listen to John’s request and begin your trek up the stairs just before it starts to get dark. The natural lighting in the house is weird and casts odd shadows. It's overcast and a new moon, which will leave little to guide you with when the sun goes down.
With only your thoughts to occupy you, you think about silly little things because if you don’t then you’ll be cognizant of the crushing realization of your solitude. That John is out there somewhere in the murky darkness and there is no guarantee that he will come back to you. 
You’d have made a piss poor military wife.
It’s easier to think about how things could be in another life- if you would have met the handsome captain in some bar and flirted shamelessly in the hopes that he liked you enough to take you home and show you a good time.
That you were at his home, in his bed, with his baby nestled under your ribcage.
But you’re not, although in a way you are as close to that fantasy as you can get. 
You’re tucked into the little hidey hole that John has chosen to squirrel you away, waiting for his return upstairs just as he asked while your child does somersaults and uses a kidney for soccer practice.
Somewhere between bouts of fretting, you manage to fall asleep. It’s certainly not the best sleep of your life by any stretch but you’ve also had worse without question.
It’s also easily disrupted. There’s a part of you that is still keen to your surroundings- that’s still aware that you’re alone in the dark and the cold, and that to truly slip under the haze of sleep could sign your death warrant.
You don’t quite wake at the sound of the door creaking, but you drift that much closer to the land of the living. 
It’s when the bed dips under his weight that you stir, partly in offense at the cold air that creeps under the covers with him.
The greeting that escapes you is more of a whine than anything else, hands grabbing at him and trying to burrow under the weight of him.
“I’m right here, lovely- told you I’d be back.” He soothes you like an over reactive pet that’s absolutely enthralled with his return and showcasing it by trying to crawl into his skin.
He’s warm, a welcome reprieve from the biting cold waiting for you just outside your blankets. You want to melt at the sensation of his hands on your back. You’re a puddle of a human being in his hold.
And somewhere between your squirming and his soothing, you’re not completely sure who ends up kissing who first but you have zero complaints.
Quickly your searching hands find purchase on him, just as his anchor you to him.
You’re drowning, you think- head dizzy, completely disoriented as lust burns through you. This is everything you’ve been pining for and now that it’s in your hold you don’t quite know what to do with it. 
John rolls you gently onto your back as the pair of you break for air- hovers above you, mindful of your belly while still not being too far away.
“Tell me to stop,” he looks as flustered as you feel, and a part of you preens in the knowledge that you’ve impacted him the way he’s impacted you. That you haven’t been the only one yearning for more. 
“Please don’t s-“ you don’t even finish the sentence before he’s on you again, the covers rustling as he shuffles to position himself closer to you.
“Good girl” he praises against your lips, the words itching something seated deep inside you.
John’s hands roam your body, searching for the hemline of your dress only to hike the skirt up to your hips once he finds it. 
“Please,” you whimper and try to arch under his touch. 
Rather than immediately diving under the skirt of your dress, he continues to feel up your chest, back, hips and thighs. You could practically melt at the attention, gladly feeling him up in turn before your hands grope down his chest to pry at his shirt. Your make out is briefly interrupted as he shucks his shirt, although in the dim lighting of the dark it’s hard to fully appreciate everything he’s displaying at the moment.
“God, you are soft,” he marvels, lips leaving yours to kiss down your neck. 
You realize that he’s trying to keep the covers over you as he works your dress up your body, pooling the fabric around your collar bones as his attention drifts from your neck to your sternum.
One hand gropes at a breast as he teases your nipple with his tongue, immediately making you gasp and grab his hair. 
“Gentle!” You correct him- while under normal circumstances his grip on you would have been perfectly acceptable, you’re currently very pregnant and part of that means your chest has been sore the last few weeks. You’re so sensitive now. 
“I’m sorry, lovely. I’ll be gentle,” he apologizes, and you relax back into the mattress.True to his promise, John is far more careful of where he gropes and kisses, delighting in all the noises you make.
The sensitivity in your breasts has you squirming underneath him, whining in pleasure.
You feel strung out and desperate, some nebulous part of you aware that you're in trouble if you're already this amped up and he's barely begun to touch you yet.
Arching into his hold, you both freeze at the same moment you feel something akin to a release in the pressure of your chest. You haven't quite been sure when you would start actually lactating- knowing that the real stuff wouldn't come in until after birth, but knowing that there was the colostrum prior.
You're not quite sure what you feel. Flustered? Relieved? Embarrassed? But John remains unflappable, a mere "Tastes sweet" before returning to the task at hand.
The hand not anchoring your breast for his mouth drifts down your side, ghosting over the fabric of your underwear. You're wet- keenly aware of how his fingers trace across your skin. Gooseflesh rises in the wake of his touch, something to do less with the all encompassing chill that you two are trying to avoid and more to do with the lust that is firmly growing in your belly. The gusset of your panties doesn't take long to soak as he teases you over the fabric.
Your hips twitch, trying desperately to follow his fingers. 
You want more. It's been so long since you've had anyone touch you, and the weight of John over you feels phenomenal. "Please, John- I need you to touch me." Never in all your days have you actually begged a man to touch you, but your life has just been full of unexpected surprises lately.
"I'll take care of you, lovely- gotta be patient," he consoles you, paired with a teasing suck of one nipple before moving across your chest to get to the other one.
You don't want to be patient. You want him- now- and even though you actively have him right in this moment it's somehow still not enough. You'd say you're like an animal in heat, but animals in heat aren't usually ready to calve at any moment. It's almost alarming how little control you have over your own body right now. You're little more than your most base urges with spread thighs and heaving breaths as you keenly watch him.
"Gotta get you ready for me, sweetheart," he soothes with his words as his hand slips under the waistband of your panties. "'m not a small man- don't want to hurt you."
You feel dizzy just at the thought. You're well acquainted with what he's packing at this point, and the knowledge he's going to try to make sure it's good for you too is enough for you to find what minimal patience you possess.
The feel of his fingertips lightly searching for your clit has your legs spreading and thighs twitching in anticipation. He's an insufferable tease, tracing the pad of one calloused fingertip around your vulva and teasing the seam of your lower lips. Just enough to keep you keyed in on him, hook line and sinker, whining for more like an anxious dog. 
When he finally parts your pussy with his fingers, you arch up into his hold as he spreads your wetness around. "Bein’ such a good girl f'r me" his praise is low and gravely and shoots straight between your thighs. 
God the things that this man could make you do if he asked you nicely.
"John, please!"
"So impatient" he chuckles against your soft skin, nipping at you ever so carefully. Just enough to get your skin between his teeth, the squeal that escapes you more in anticipation than from any actual discomfort.
He shushes you, lapping at the patch of skin that he nipped in a mock apology as the hand slipping between your lower lips slides one finger inside of you.
There's certainly more to his one finger than to your own, and you must be such a greedy little thing tonight because you're still wanting another finger. John is in no hurry it seems, content to rock his one finger in and out of you as your body gets wetter in preparation of future events. 
His hand doesn't leave from between your thighs, but he moves further under the covers where they've obscured him completely, falling around your collar bones. Certainly warmer for the pair of you for him to do this like this, although your hips are already rocking. 
You've got a reasonable guess on what he's about to do, but not being able to physically see him does, you admit, add a certain level of excitement. There's nothing you can do other than lay on your back patiently like a good girl and wait for him to make his next move. His warm breath on your pussy makes you jolt, a thrill shooting up your spine.
 You haven't gotten head in ages- certainly not with your last beau.
"Try to be quiet for me, lovely. Don't need anything outside hearing your pretty noises," is all the warning you get before he's lowering his mouth to you.
It is certainly easier said than done- partly you manage to keep your whines and whimpers down, but it just makes your eyes want to roll back the way John doesn't hesitate to put his tongue to work.With a cursory lap of your vulva, he's quick to hone his attention on your clit while his finger continues to slip in and out of you.
 After a few thrusts of his wrists you have to turn your head and muffle yourself with a pillow as he gives you the second finger you've been so keen for. His fingers stroking you from the inside paired with his tongue on your clit is certainly enough to work you steadily towards your orgasm.
You're not sure that you're going to last much longer when he starts to crook his fingers against the anterior wall of you- seems he knows exactly how to try to wring out every last drop of pleasure from you, and you're more than game to let him.
"John," your whine is a small, pleading thing this time- not the same feverish anxious plea from earlier, attempting to get him to give exactly what you want. This is a softer cry, a plea and an acknowledgement all wrapped together that he will take you where you're trying to go if you'll just let him do it.
Cold be damned, your activities under the sheets have a sheen of sweat breaking out over your skin. You pull the blanket off of you, partially because you're starting to get hot and partially on the reflex that you want to watch him- although that isn't really going to be an option with your belly in the way. "Oh my God, please don't stop,” you beg, perfectly able to picture the smug grin on his face as you feel the vibration of him chuckling in amusement at you.
Your squirming is dealt with swiftly as he grips one of your hips with his free hand, holding you in place as you rock against his mouth. The pleasure coiling in your belly twists down tighter and tighter, your staccato breaths hitching as he pushes you closer to your climax.
Right when the dam breaks, it seems both of you were on the same page- one of your hands clamping over your mouth to muffle yourself right at the moment John straightens a bit and abandons your hip in favor of trying to cover your mouth as well.
Which suddenly puts you in the position of being completely at his mercy- that he's using the hand buried between your legs to see how much he can get you to squeal now that your noises are  muffled to his standard. 
When he lets up, you're dizzy and gasping for air. This is so much more intense than the orgasm you'd brought yourself to in the shower and that one had literally brought you to your knees. There's a part of your brain still cognizant enough that you want to return the favor- That he's made you feel absolutely divine and it's only fair to reciprocate that. 
However, rather than functional words, all you can come up with is to just paw at the top of his pants, mumbling more so than speaking "I want- I-"
Despite your complete lack of clarity, he seems to understand what your mission is regardless.
 "We can worry about that later, Love," he assures you, coaxing you onto your side and getting in close behind you. Despite having just gotten yours, for a moment you are incredulous at the idea that he's about to just tuck you back into bed and go to sleep.Then you realize the covers are still down around your ankles, and your night dress up across your breasts- and, blessedly, that he's pulling down his pants. 
God you wish you could see it, but between the darkness and the angle with him behind you it's not really an option. You can see enough shadows to have a vague idea of where he is behind you, but also the lack of vision is adding to the experience. 
Just groping and touching in the dark like a pair of frisky teenagers trying to not get caught.
"I've got what you need right here, pretty girl- lift your leg up for me," he instructs and you comply immediately. 
Oh God he's big. You knew that, sorta- have been well acquainted with what he feels like pressing up against you with morning wood. And he just told you that you needed to be prepped in order to take him. 
But somehow this feels completely different, and here you are lying soft and compliant on your side with your legs spread wondering how the fuck he's going to make it fit.You're completely gagging for it either way. 
"Please, please, plea-" you beg, head turning his direction in the dark even if you can't see well. Your begging is cut off as he drags his cock across your swollen folds, sensitive from the earlier attention he paid to you. 
"Easy, lovely. Told you I'd take care of you," he instructs, and it takes everything in you to lie still in his hold while he lines himself up with you.
Your mind is spinning a hundred miles an hour, excited by the prospect as he finally pushes the head in and gives a shallow thrust.
His chest is lined up to your back, one hand helping prop up your thigh to give better access. It's the most intimate position the two of you can manage, and it gives you a front row seat as he groans low in the back of his throat.
Oh, you like that noise.
You want to hear him make it again.
"Christ you're warm," he chokes, and a deep satisfaction rolls through you. Just knowing that he's as affected by you, as you are by him is enough to stroke your ego.
"John, I can't wait anymore," you whine, pushing back against him in encouragement for him to move. Since when did you become such a needy little mess? It would be embarrassing if you could bring yourself to care. 
You've been long overdue for a good romp between the sheets, and you are just thrilled to pieces that the captain has decided to be the one up for the task.
"You are an impatient creature, aren't you pet?" His admonishment is a gentle thing, as are his first few thrusts as your bodies acclimate to each other.
"It feels so good. Want you to feel good too," you plead your case, and really who was he to disagree with that?
"Feels fuckin' incredible, lovely, don't you worry about that. Sweet pussy of yours has me like a vice," You push back against his thrusts, eyes rolling as the angle lets him hit that one spot in you. Pragmatically, this position was the best to allow the pair of you to be close to each other while not overcrowding around your belly- allow some level of intimacy, as John is able to get up close behind you, and you can reasonably turn to touch and paw at him. But God is it also working for you as far as bringing you pleasure. Each time his hips bury against the plush of your ass he hits that spot that makes your leg shake in his hold.
"Gonna get you there, lovely, just-" it strokes your ego that he's babbling slightly as he speaks. That he's just as excited to have access to your body, to let you have him like this.
"John, right there- I, ah!- Oh God, right there," your pleading seems to just ramp him up. He's not rough with you by any stretch, just clearly comfortable that he's not going to hurt you and confident that your body's acclimated to take all of him. It's your turn to babble, whimpering and whining in his hold. The hand holding your thigh spread coaxes your leg over his hip, hand drifting back to your clit to stroke the little bundle of nerves.
"Just like that, hm?" he asks you like your eyes aren't almost crossing from how good he's giving it to you.
"Oh my God, please!" your brain's possibly broken. Your entire universe has condensed down to you, and him, and this bed and how damn good he's making you feel. 
A quick study, he's already learned your tells that you're inching closer to your climax.
"You can do it, pet- cum for me. I wanna see your pretty face when you cum all over my cock.”
You’re past words, clinging to him with one hand and the sheets with the other as you breathe and try to relax your tensing body.
“That’s it, good girl- deep breaths,” he coaxes you, and that’s the magic combination to get you seeing fireworks. 
He must still doubt your ability to stifle your orgasm yourself, muffling your noises by grabbing your face and turning it so he can kiss you. You certainly have no complaints, aware by the way his pace changes for a few thrusts that he’s not very far behind you before reaching his own end.
For a moment, the pair of you recline in silence as you come down from your respective highs. The heat the two of you made quickly starts to dissipate in the night with the covers still bunched at the foot of the bed, making you shiver as the cold finally settles back over you.
That movement is enough to bring John out of whatever post coital bliss he was in, shifting behind you to pull out.
“Hang on, love,” he instructs while pulling his pants back over his hips before pulling your dress back down your legs and grabbing the covers.
You feel calm for the first time in days, content to laze on your side with John behind you as he snuggles in next to you.
You remember turning your head back towards him for one last kiss- something slow and soft and gentle- and don’t even realize it when you fall asleep.
Age in bio/pinned or I will block you ♡
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ptergwen · 1 day ago
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hiii
so this might me dirty but hear me out
It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna
so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but
stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)
oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man
have an amazing dayy
a parker thing
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ask box  |  taglist  |  blurb masterlist  |  main masterlist
w/c: ?
warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing
a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3
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you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.
ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.
tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.
you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.
"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."
"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."
friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.
"thanks, fri."
you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.
"huh."
you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.
"weird."
first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.
you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.
"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."
peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.
"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."
"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"
peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.
"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."
"new features? like what?"
"you know the one i was telling you about..."
you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.
"go on, i’m listening."
peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.
"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."
"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."
you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.
"y/n? you okay?"
peter must have noticed you spacing out.
your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.
"horny."
peter's features form a smirk.
"i got you, baby."
he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.
peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.
"one sec, lemme get this off."
peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.
"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."
peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.
"stop teasing, parker."
"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"
something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.
"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."
peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.
"do it."
you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.
"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."
"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."
peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.
"what was that?"
you breathe out a low laugh.
"nothing."
you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.
"wanna feel you, y/n/n."
peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.
"wanna feel you too, pete."
you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.
he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.
you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.
"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."
"me neither."
he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.
"y/n..."
peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.
"i know."
you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.
peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.
"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."
peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.
"god, fuck."
he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.
"fuck, baby. woah."
you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.
"oh my god, pete. that was..."
"yeah."
peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.
"sorry."
he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.
"it's okay."
you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.
"aw, you tired?"
"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."
"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"
"sounds perfect."
peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.
"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."
peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.
"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."
"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."
"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."
you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.
"why does this keep happening?"
peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.
"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."
"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"
"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."
"oh. maybe it was someone else."
peter quirks a brow.
"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."
you turn to face peter.
"so why am i sticky?"
between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.
his spider powers.
"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."
"you don't mean... no."
if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.
"uh, yeah."
peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.
"we must share some dna."
"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"
"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."
"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"
"exactly."
peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.
"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"
"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."
"so what?"
"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."
you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.
"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."
you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.
"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"
"something like that. you're not mad?"
you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.
"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."
"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."
"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."
peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.
"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."
you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.
"mrs. parker, i like that."
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(too lazy to use tags lmao)
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specialgradefckr · 1 day ago
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tw: explicit content. sukuna/reader. female!reader, heiain era sukuna. reader is a former courtesan (and not a fancy one, either). sukuna doesn't give a fuck.
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It's not uncommon for Sukuna to summon you to his throne room to pleasure him. What is uncommon is for the throne room to be empty when he does.
Today is, unsurprisingly, no different.
Sukuna had ordered you on your knees at his feet, where Uruame stood aside you, plain-faced.
He watches, bored, resting his cheek on his knuckle as foolish lords and sorcerers alike come to him with entreaties for aid, for mercy, for whatever else.
"My lord," one curse user intones, with far too much confidence, "Is that the whore?"
Sukuna tilts his head to the side. You're allowed to glance up at his face while you suck him - he likes it when you do.
Right now, he looks utterly bored.
"This is my whore," He drawls. "Unless you're suggesting I would share?"
There's murmurs, but no one dares answer him. It's not your concern either way.
You gaze up at him, wide eyed. Taking him all the way to the root, stretching so your throat is straight for him, suppressing the urge to gag as you swallow down his cock.
Blinking up at him cutely. Swallowing around his throbbing cock. Am I doing a good job, Su-ku-na~?
Sukuna's lips twist in what other people would call a sneer, but you know the crinkle of his lower set of eyes, the amusement bubbling forth as he snickers menacingly.
(You can also tell that his cock is twitching, ready to blow. Come to think of it, that is quite the advantage, isn't it?(
The curses and curse-users in the room, though, they cower from it. You know to lean into the hand in your hair that pushes you further onto his cock.
A noise of disgust in the background. Feet shuffling, as if impatient.
Let them watch. Let them think what they want, call you what you want.
There's only one person in the room who matters, and his cock is in your mouth. You're a thousand times safer than any of them, even if they don't know it.
His load is hot and salty and a little gross, if you're being honest.
"My lord, are you quite done with that whore already? We've important matters to disgust."
But the utter disdain on his face, the narrowing of red eyes onto the peons before him, the disgust and sensation of his cursed energy -
The sound of his curse slicing through the air. Severing head from body. Gasps and shuffled and bloodied, crunching noises.
Sukuna does it all with one hand petting gently over your head. He doesn't even move, doesn't get up.
He's bitter on your tongue. But you've never felt more safe.
And the power. The knowledge that the most dangerous man in the world would stroke your hair while he slaughtered men too noble for a whore like you.
That is, unmistakably, the sweetest you've ever had.
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What is surprising is that the man who visits you later is not Sukuna.
Rather, it's one of the lords who you'd caught lurking silently in the banquet hall.
He wants to know how to earn Sukuna's favor.
"Lord Sukuna is not a difficult man to understand," you say with an indulgent smile. "If you are going to approach him, it should be to offer him something. Otherwise, your life lasts only as long as it amuses him."
This lord is wise, you think, because he pauses a moment before he speaks. "And what does Lord Sukuna desire?"
You shrug. "He likes power, he likes knowledge. I know he has a cursed tool or two that he favors."
Eyes narrowing at you. "What else?" A demanding tone.
"He is a man like any other. You could offer him fine food or drink, but Uruame does that already." You give him a smirk. "You could always offer him entertainment. I do well enough. Would you like to know his favorite positions?"
And at last, the leashed disdain breaks loose, a snarl on the lord's pretty face, "You whore," He raises a hand, "You dare suggest-"
In an instant you drop into the lowest possible bow, head pressed to the floor.
It spares you from the spray of blood that bisects the lord's chest cavity. From what you know of Sukuna, perhaps it would have slashed you, too, had you not knelt in time.
There's silence, for a moment. Maybe he's considering wasting a second slash on you after all.
"What did he want?"
"Your favor, my lord," You answer without hesitation, "He thought I might know a way for him to earn it."
"Hmn." A grunt, half-annoyed, half-mocking; your sign that he is not upset, and you may raise your head to confirm his expression.
There's a light twitch on his lips. "And he thought he might find my favor in the private quarters of my personal possession?"
You shrug. "Most men are not particularly attached to their whores."
"Hmph." The scoff is his dismissal of the topic. When he turns to leave, you know to follow.
It's a short stroll until you reach the courtyard, a well-curated garden. Sukuna strides through it, wordlessly, a giant out of place amongst flowers.
Ever faithfully, you trail behind him. All the way to a great tree at the edge of a path, one he leans back against.
You stand there, waiting.
"What do you want?"
It's not a question you ever expected to hear from him. "What do I want... right now?"
"Hmph," Sukuna crosses his arms, still looking over on the garden. "What do you want from me? You have my favor. Unlike them."
In truth, you have no great desires. You're fed, sheltered. You can buy things you want. All you have to do is please a single man, a thousand times easier than being in a brothel. He's a better lover than most men you'd encountered.
There's not much more you could ask for - which is good. Sukuna has a marked tendency to kill people who ask him for things.
But he's told you to, now. And you've never denied him.
"If I should be so daring, my lord," You say with a low hum, "When you no longer have any use of me, I would like to be dismissed instead of disposed of."
There's a pause. A stillness to him. Cold.
"When I no longer have use of you? When do you expect that to be?" HIs voice is strange in a way you haven't known before.
"I don't know. Of course I'll do all I can before then, but I've seen many women in my time at the brothel. We all lose our beauty and our charm eventually."
Sukuna turns to you. He does not come any closer. Four eyes stare at you, piercing.
"You think I keep you around because you're pretty? I couldn't care less what you look like. I keep you around because you're amusing, and you please me." He snorts, pushing himself off the tree.
You don't know what to say to that. "...I'm glad you enjoy my services?"
"You must be, if all you want is to retire peacefully." Sukuna begins walking away. "Make no mistake, woman. If you want to leave, do it. I don't need you."
You have to hurry to keep up with his long strides. But you catch a glimpse on his face, just a dusting -
"Hurry up."
With a smile, you trail him - all the way to his bedroom.
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star2fishmeg · 17 hours ago
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Your inexperienced blurbs are all amazingly can you do Quinn next?
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He's slow but he's full of passion, taking his time to drag his cock through your walls that squeeze him tight, cherishing the virgin moans slipping out from you shamelessly, uncaring of his neighbours but he's hitting places your fingers can never reach and it's sending avid desire to your throbbing cunt. Quinn groans into your neck, lips smoothing the column with wet kisses, sucking over the flesh knowing how insane it drives you.
His breath fans up to your ear, lips grazing over your cheek and he rasps, hips thrusting languidly, "You okay, pretty girl? Tell me if you wanna stop and I will."
Tilting your head back into his pillows, you turn your head slightly and capture his lips in yours, tongue finding his with a hunger that takes him by surprise. Your nails claw into his back, dragging and gripping his muscles, pulling him closer, moaning when his pace notably speeds up as if he's giving in to his own lust.
"Why the hell would I do that?" you kiss him again, "You feel so fucking good, Q. Can you go faster?"
He doesn't say anything, he doesn't need to as his hips speak for him, rutting into you faster, back and forth, back and forth, sweat trickling down his temple and this electrifying feeling washing through you every time his cock hits your cervix, and a grunt leaves his throat. You can't pretend like you're not in heaven anymore, letting wanton moans, elongated and chanting his name as your pussy stretches to properly fit him and only him, clenching. You hook both legs around his hips, locking your ankles and he slides in deeper, hitting angles voraciously.
"Use your words, sweetheart," he grumbles, voice deep and enticing in your ear, vibrating in his chest as his hair clings to his face, cock plunging into your cunt still, "need you to tell me if this is okay. Don't wanna hurt you."
"Oh, Quinn! M'good, so fucking good. Fucking this pretty pussy so well." Your lips pulled into a smile, eyes rolling back as you gripped him tighter, nails digging crescents into his flexing muscles.
He's at a loss for words, almost ruining his rhythm yet the way you whine is so enticing, and that paired with the wet sounds of his dick sliding in and out of you, he pulls himself together, lips attaching to your neck.
"I thought you'd never done," he thrusts harder, your breasts bouncing and the volume of your wails becoming high-pitched, "this before."
You giggle with delirium, that high in your head where everything feels great and your body is light like all the weight had been lifted just by Quinn's cock alone, "A virgin, Q-oh, a horny one. S'not like I don't know what sex is- shit, there, right there."
He chuckles, it's hard not to. Your pleasure controls him like a puppet, driving his cock into the exact spongey spot you'd been begging for, one hand rolling your nipple just to be a tease before sliding to your clit, fingers circling the under of shooting nerves and drawing somewhere between a moan and giggle from you. His stomach tightens, like a coil and watching you get lost in your euphoric arousal has his pace becoming sloppier, desperate but still not as rough as he thinks you'd like him to be yet. It is your first time still, and he wants you to enjoy it.
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notashadowbutawave · 2 days ago
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finally talked my wife into watching 8x06 "confessions" with me and WOW there's quite a lot going on in this breakup scene in buck's apartment (and the infamous glee scene for that matter) that I haven't seen discussed much on this website (though maybe I'm just not finding it?) like this show is always yelling the themes in your face but...
first of all I think it's somewhat intentional that Buck is being written as kind of regressing. So far in the show, he's gotten his confidence in romantic relationships by fulfilling the role with the person that he thinks he should fulfill. with Abby, Buck had just learned about serious adult romantic relationships and how they work and was trying to Be A Partner in a complete speed run. But he learned that no amount of devotion is a substitute for functionality. with Taylor, he was trying to Be A Functional Partner - and he learned that being a partner Has To involve trust, and that trust comes from somewhere else other than just our actions - it has to come from our hearts.
Tommy is the first person he's ever dated where he doesn't know what the next steps are and that's because this isn't something he has a blueprint for - being a Partner and a Functional Partner for somebody who sees right through him and sees exactly what he's trying to do, to make Tommy never leave. Abby was completely clueless (sorry I really dislike Abby) and Taylor didn't realize that an adult man could behave so badly without utter malice in his heart. Both of them kind of make the mistake of being vulnerable to Buck's charms.
Tommy is of course vulnerable to Buck's charms but Buck is more transparently himself with Tommy as well - and what Tommy sees, then, is a person who is deeply insecure and may be trending in the right direction but ultimately still thinks there's a lever he can pull to make Tommy stay and never leave him. He doesn't know that he's not done cooking yet because every new thing he learns about the world or others makes him feel brand fucking new.
So yes, the glee scene:
Josh was absolutely gagged that Tommy was Abby's ex fiance
Buck's first instinct is to see the situation from Abby's side and go into protective mode which is adorably loyal to be fair but also like ; get a grip
I actually love Josh's framing of "you care about this person and if you want a future in a queer relationship you need to learn that we don't all come to this the same way"
Did they need a cultural reference? No. Were they going to self referentially congratulate Ryan Murphy for inflicting it on the world? Yes.
And regarding the breakup itself:
What is wrong with this fandom's sense of humor that I haven't seen a gif of "I'm the himbo" ??? Like yes babe u sure are come here
Buck is really working so hard in this scene to make sure Tommy knows that he's serious. He's like... this freaked me out but I've decided I'm cool with it. She changed my life but not like you !!!
Like bless his heart, Buck thought he was really doing the right thing by telling Tommy about Abby BEFORE ASKING HIM TO MOVE IN WITH HIM. like MY CARDS ARE ON THE TABLE??? SEE??? LOVE ME FOREVER !! it's adorable and it's also cringe as fuck.
I think the real sin of the writing here is making Buck so completely clueless that this is the wrong move. Like he's kind of an idiot (Eddie Diaz's words not mine) but moving in with someone after dating them for six months in your 30s is WILD behavior and I don't think even Evan Buckley would fail to realize that this is a bit much in this moment.
But idk being in love makes one do stupid things? I did all of my messy bitch relationship shit before I turned 30 but I guess it is buck we are talking about
I completely understand why Tommy reacts the way he does in this scene and bless Lou Ferrigno Jr for acting it with such nuance, much more depth than the scene frankly deserves. What a heartbreaker. Like you see him tense up at Buck's request
"I'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you." such an insane thing to say to your boyfriend. Whoever approved this script was trying to take me out like with a gun.
You then see the absolute grief in Tommy's eyes like oh god this kid is killing me. He's so sweet. He's so cute. He doesn't get it. I love him. He doesn't get it.
As an aside, Eddie being stalked in the juice bar by the hot priest was absolutely incredible.
I didn't hate this episode but wow the writing does suck shit, however I fully believe it makes sense for them to break up here and get back together in the future ??? because Buck DOES have some shit to figure out. Like moving in with someone is a lot of fucking intimacy REALLY fast and baby boy sometimes you NEED to pump the brakes a little ESPECIALLY when you think someone might be THE ONE and you just figured out you like guys six months ago.
I get it and yeah the writing is tragic and the inclusion of Abby in general is just unhinged and unnecessary but like I don't hate the broad strokes here. how else does the blorbo learn if not by ritual torture by the writers. Lou is too good to not have back though. My god what a treasure.
end bucktommy endgame truther transmission
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x-necromantic-x · 3 days ago
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(reblogging w/ my comments under op’s post to have it on one of my blogs)
hi!! this was my post that you're talking about! and wow haha i did not think it would strike this much of a nerve with some people, but it's always a good thing to see other people passionate about things i'm passionate about also.
a few things–
the post overall was meant to be lighthearted in nature, as someone who enjoys both the musical and the poem it wasn't really an us vs them thing. moreso a playful jab at people who made assumptions about the myth based off the musical (which, in my comments there were a lot of) and if you don't do that, the post doesn't apply to you!
in the pinned comment under the post i talk about how a conversation can definitely happen over the ethics of the situation, i'm all for interpretations of the story and enjoyed the people discussing the myth from the perspective of actually having read the myth or of being aware of it. whenever i corrected people in the comments, it was about things they got wrong about the material specifically, such as people saying circe used her magic to force him to bed or arguing about things a simple google search could tell you whether it did or didn't happen. If you interpret the text as being non-consensual, it was never the point of the post to say that your interpretation is incorrect! me personally though, i don't like the optics of circe being turned into a supporting/positive character if she was a rapist in the original.
I wasn't defending hamilton lmao!!! it was a joke!!! it was a bit!!!!
i also never said homer!odysseus was a horrible person! i very much don't think he is! to me, the point of the story is it's exploration of the human condition, and that even if he had faltered in his resolve to get home, that he still wouldn't have been a horrible person because any normal person in his shoes would have done similarly! i dunno where you got this bit but yk, js for the record.
your interpretation of book 10 in the odyssey is fine, if not a little lost on me. odysseus was certainly not initiative in the task of going home. of course, you can read and take away from it whatever you like, but– and i'm not trying to sound pretentious here– in my analysis class for the odyssey specifically we talked about how this section of the odyssey goes into the nature of human temptation when faced with luxury or an easier way out. Odysseus intentionally spends longer than he has to, a full year, and doesn't make the decision to leave until his crew bugs him and calls his delays “madness”. That doesn't read to me as them being like let's leave and he's like alr bet, it reads as odysseus finding reasons to remain on the island even after his crew is ready to go. you can find all of this in the text.
i never mentioned being fixated on the telegony either, all of my rebuttals have been centered around text and examples found in the odyssey itself. it wasn't really a gotcha moment with circe either, there's no debate that odysseus’ is one of history's great morally ambiguous figures in fiction, with or without her.
lastly, i think the odyssey is sooo romantic! a lot of your post seems to have misunderstood the point of mine fundamentally, and that's ok, i probably could have phrased it better! i think epic is romantic, i think the odyssey is romantic, the point i was trying to get at when seriously debating the storytelling of epic is that i think a lot of people miss the nuance that went into the storytelling of the odyssey in favor of a more sanitized, more easy to swallow protagonist. again, how i studied it, and how i believe the odyssey was meant to be read, is as a critical analysis of the human condition. Myths are reflective of the societies they come from, and i want people to be aware that the myths we read are a glimpse into what sorts of things people back then valued and strove for, how they're different from us, and how they're not. you mentioned having wished you’d studied the literature, and i think if you had, you would have come to a similar conclusion.
while i don’t think op misinterpreted my points intentionally in bad faith, calling me an asshole or saying i’m illiterate definitely made me raise an eyebrow. i tried my best to keep the conversations in my own comments respectful and productive, and hostility was definitely not the tone of my original shitpost. i think most people were able to talk about their perspectives and interpretations of the odyssey without going there. i’m attaching my pinned comments below for more context about the post itself
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Some assholes on Instagram saying that Epic fans are "gaslighting" themselves about Odysseus being faithful to Penelope because of the Circe part and being pretentious about it and how we are stupid for considering The Odyssey romantic
Motherfucker
1. The Odyssey is an epic poem we all fucking know that? That it's a tragedy, technically comedy (comedy in ancient literature used to mean "happy ending", not funny stuff)
2. The Circe bit can be interpreted in different ways, as if it was fully consensual or not or just a transaction. There was still a difference in power dynamics, which was 100% mentioned by Calypso in the beginning, but if you choose to ignore that part if the same as saying some of Zeus' kids were ok to be conceived because the women agreeded to what A GOD wanted.
3. Obviously Epic!Odysseus is differente from Homer!Odysseus, but trying to say Homer! Odysseus is a horrible person that fully wanted to cheat on Penelope just because you want to defend ALEXANDER HAMILTON, i have bad news about you.
4. "The crew had to beg to go back!" I read the Odyssey too. As a child and a few days ago. They stayed on Circe's island to rest so Odysseus job as a captain was literally wait until his crew told him they were ready to leave, specially after what they have lived. Odysseus didnt force anyone to stay in that island, when the crew went "oh, sir, we miss our families, please lets go back now, yes?" Odysseus immediately said "ok". It literally felt like a father waiting for the kids to stop playing in the playground.
5. Homer!Odysseus is not perfect, at all (man killed his disloyal maids because he didnt want to deal with shit anymore, even if they also were coerced/raped by the suitors), but come with a better gotcha than Circe. You are just fixiated on the Telegony and it shows.
6. Idk what to tell you, but if you think renouncing a life with two inmortal godesses (one of whom offered you immortality), traveling for 10 years defying a God's rage, killing 108 men who wanted to marry your wife (and ruined your house), almost killed yourself when said wife rejected you only for her to go "haha i was just testing you, silly :)", have your literally marriage have a word created for you two specifically is not romantic... Idk go read Bridgerton
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mareastrorum · 16 hours ago
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Been chewing more on how C3 wound up here. What’s throwing me is the strange shift from the cast’s unflinching “yes, and” game in C2 to a misplaced feeling that they need to choose correctly in C3.
I want to be clear here that this isn’t a criticism post because I genuinely don’t know what’s happening here. It’s just odd behaviors that seem to signal a problem, and I don’t know what solution would resolve it. I’m not going to be so presumptuous as to hypothesize about any cast member’s thoughts.
In the Cooldown for C3E118 (and offhandedly previously), Laura and Ashley expressed some nervousness about making big decisions because they’re worried about making the “wrong” choice. Without more, that attitude alone would explain much of the party’s indecisiveness about key campaign questions. After all, their characters are the two Ruidusborn of most interest to the campaign villains, and other characters (especially Orym, Laudna, and Ashton) have insisted that Imogen and Fearne take the lead on Predathos.
But this isn’t a story in a vacuum. C2 got completely derailed multiple times. The Mighty Nein decided to steal a pirate ship and leave the continent the campaign was set on; shortly after they returned, they decided to reopen a collapsed tunnel to go the opposite side of the continent; then Caleb returned the Luxon Beacon and made themselves heroes of an enemy nation instantly. That’s not even getting into the fact that Molly died before the Nein got to Shadycreek Run (which absolutely would have been all about his backstory) or that Twiggy left an incredible magical artifact that wasn’t supposed to be given to the Nein. Each time, Matt adjusted and made it work. Granted, C2 was more of a sandbox campaign, but Matt demonstrated his flexibility as a DM time and again.
Like, as a general rule of thumb, DMs shouldn’t offer options that would torpedo the campaign. It’s rational to avoid situations that have a genuine possibility of undercutting the game. Matt has been DMing for a long time; he’s done a very good job of finding ways to make the campaign work regardless of the decisions the players make. Even when players do something directly against the signals he threw out (like Ashton trying to absorb a second shard despite consistent, dire warnings that it would kill him), he works with the players to come to a reasonable solution (Ashton survived but the shard wouldn’t take, and he got some character moments out of the failure). We, the audience, know Matt is good at pivoting when he needs to.
In addition to taking the players’ curveballs like a champ, Matt also takes big swings for the sake of the story. In C1, Matt broke his biggest city with a dragon invasion, then made a new god leading an undead titan to go stomp out the world’s oldest civilization. In C2, he let the players go off the map whenever and still made the digression relevant to their character arcs every time. Not to be parasocial, but if we can figure out that that Matt can handle this sort of thing, the players certainly have a better feel for it than us.
So what is going on in C3? We know Matt isn’t scared of breaking Exandria or destroying the pantheon: he set that possibility in motion as the default ending if the players did nothing. CR literally did a mini series about the start of the end of the world with EXU Calamity. Laura and Ashley were also in Downfall and making big choices between the gods and mortals. Breaking stuff is what they do!
Where did this idea that there’s a “wrong” choice come from? That type of thinking kills a lot of great improv, and the whole point of the “yes, and” exercise is to shake it off. While it’s incredibly obvious to say not to think that way, the real issue is sorting out why that mentality has taken hold at all. That’s a problem no amount of fan discussion is going to resolve.
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unknownati · 2 days ago
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xii. never lose me
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a/n: (i lost the ask so sorry to that anon, hope u still find this 💀 but the ask was like: can you make a fic based off never lose me by flo milli? with smut)
happy new year my loves!
sorry this took so long im such a slow writer. plus im braindead asf. ik i said i had to proofread this in my last post but i lied i didnt 😬
nooobody ask me where he got all this money cuz baby idk. i hope some of this stuff is correct bc i am not rich 😭
warnings/tags: smut 👻, fem!black!reader, no use of y/n, no desc of reader's physical features BUT reader dresses feminine (think aliyahsinterlude), modern!ekko, boat sex yay, semi-public(?), risky, backshots 🎉, oral (e! recieving), reader getting spoiled, soft dom!ekko, so loosely inspired by the song, not proofread. raw vibe
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ekko goes above and beyond treating you right.
anything you want, all yours. that new purse? check your mailbox. you need your nails done? here's $300, keep the change, don't worry about it. he always makes sure you're pleased, even if you don't ask. he knows everything about you by heart. favorite flowers, favorite foods, plus your usual orders, so it's not uncommon to come home to food on the table with a fresh vase of florals seated next to it.
of course, nothing about this relationship was ever one sided. there is no one who prances around announcing that ekko is your man quite like you do. you make sure ekko knows that if he ever needs you, no matter what, you're there.
in return, you get whatever you want.
"ekko," you sing, putting your phone down in the cup holder. your hand rests over ekko's, which has a gentle grip on your thigh. crickets chirp outside, veiled beneath the dark sky and lack of light. you're speeding down an empty backroad on your way back home from a little shopping spree at a mall an hour and some change away. "i wanna go somewhere."
he hums. "where were you thinking?"
"dunno yet," you lean your weight onto the center console, maybe somewhere in asia."
"yeah?" he asks, squeezing the fat of your thigh. you smile wide. "sure. let me know when you decide."
"i will, thanks baby," you chirp, gently pulling his hand up your thigh and closer to your center. his fingers catch on the hem, pushing your denim skirt up and gently pressing his thumb into your clit. he's rubbing featherlight circles into it, running over the lacy underwear he bought for you a while back. your gasp is barely heard beneath the music.
the engine whirrs, and you see the speedometer shoot up.
so impatient.
.:*☆
it truly didn't take long for ekko to book that flight. you said the place, and about 30 minutes later everything was set in stone.
excitement rushed through your body as you packed, making sure to tuck your matching sets beneath your clothes. he deserved some type of reward, right?
when you finally arrived at your hotel, late into the night, jet-lagged to all hell, you couldn't help but ask ekko if he needed some help. he did everything, all you did was walk around, complain about your feet hurting a bit, and cling to his arm. regardless, he insisted you worried about nothing and just got comfy for the night because he had something big planned tomorrow.
never would you have ever guessed that you'd end up on a cruiser yacht.
he had you blindfolded after you returned to the hotel from eating and shopping, promising that you'd love it and that you just needed to be patient and trust him. you did; no hesitation there.
and once he slipped it off after your minor freak-out wondering what you're stepping onto that has to be so wobbly, it took your breath away.
the sun sinks below the horizon, yellow rays glittering off of the water. your hands met his, perched on your hips, looking back to find his prideful grin.
"ekko..." you pout.
"iii know, i'm a great boyfriend, you love me, i know," he jokes, chuckling as you walk around the cockpit, marveling the fact that you're on one. "it'll leave soon, there's a cooler with drinks, and i can take pictures for you."
you smile wide. "my personal photographer. in fact, take some of me right now before the sun sets," you rush to hand him your phone, quickly posing yourself in front of the scene.
ekko took taking photos for you so seriously, genuinely telling you how to switch your posing and expression, and without missing a beat always hyping you up to the third degree.
so when you heard nothing from ekko, no 'oooh's or 'mhm's, you turned to him.
"ekko?"
"sorry, you're just..." he laughs sheepishly, avoiding your gaze as if he wasn't the key to your heart. "so pretty."
you roll your eyes. "you're so corny."
the tone of your voice completely betrayed your words, honeyed and bashful. he catches it, shaking his head and raising the camera again.
"right—okay, let's try this again."
.:*☆
the pictures came out great. you wanted to wait until you got home to pick your favorites to post, but all of them were so good that you didn't know which one to pick.
you leaned against the railing, staring out into deep night, city lights twinkling in the distance. the cool sea breeze rushes against your skin, the salty scent of the ocean flooding around you. it was too good of an opportunity to not take more.
"ekko, take a few more for me?"
he hums, not a moment of protest, finding your phone and settling into the seat opposite of you.
you take your seat as well, your torso twisted and legs crossed. his mouth opens—'move your leg a little' rests on his tongue, until he inspects your gaze through the phone. you weren't quite looking at the camera, but rather...behind it.
"you okay?"
you nod. "yeah...you look good as fuck over there."
he fumbles over his words for a moment, looking down at his attire. "in my spiderman shirt?"
"mhm, especially in your spiderman shirt," you look him up and down, eyes sliding over his muscles. "come back over here real quick?"
he's surprised he didn't trip from how quickly he scrambled over to you, sitting in the seat beside you. his smile is poorly hidden as you crawl into his lap. his hands find your waist, pulling you closer.
you direct his face up, fingers gently pushing at his chin, leaning down to lock your lips together.
his hands roam your body—clearly too impatient—fingers pushing beneath your shirt, pulling up and revealing your bra. intricate lace, almost in a floral pattern, dyed a dusty pink that was barely visible under the moonlight. the cups had a deep cut, plunging down from your collar bone to the bottom of your sternum with a dainty little decorative bow.
you literally feel him getting hard. he looks up, fingers running along the band. "this for me?"
"sure is." you nod, reaching down to tug your skirt down. the hem of your matching panties peek out. "you like 'em?"
"do i?" he glances above the short barrier at the captain, who isn't paying an ounce of attention. just humming in his own world, only focused on the path they were going on. perfect.
"shit..." his lips reconnect with yours before trailing down, sucking hickies into your skin, tightly squeezing your thighs, brows furrowing.
you can already tell he's going to find a way to seat you right on his face so you stop him—not because you don't want that, but you've been spoiled enough for one day—pushing his shoulders back and getting off of him.
he looked like a kicked puppy when you separated from him and you just roll your eyes, sinking down onto your knees with a wide smile. it all connects for him and he relaxes against the seat, lips parting as you quickly unbutton his pants, your nail hooking at the band of his trunks. you tug, down, down, down, until his dick springs free and lightly taps his naval.
you waste no time, your lips meeting the base, then parting to let your tongue run up a vein that lead you to the sensitive tip.
ekko shivers, eyes shifting from the arch in your back to your lips, leaving glossy stamps all along his length.
you, on the other hand, kept your eyes locked onto his. he kept averting his gaze. for what, you weren't sure. but you tapped his tip against your tongue, capturing his attention. finally, his eyes meet yours. now you feel like you can continue.
you kiss the tip again, smiling up at him as you allow it to breach your lips, sliding into your mouth agonizingly slow.
"fuuuck," he drags, watching you slowly sink down, taking almost all of it yet stopping where your lips met your fingers.
you get acquainted with the feeling, adjusting your tongue to press against the skin. your cheeks hollow, your head slowly falling into a bobbing movement, stroking him alongside your movements.
he struggles to not thrust straight up into your mouth, gripping the edge of the leather cushions. one hand meets the back of your head but doesn't push or pull, just rests there.
his hips twitch, torso relaxing against the back of the seat, growing rigid whenever your tongue ran across just the right spot. his chest rises and falls rapidly, quickly drawing in breaths then moaning them right out.
your jaw already started to ache, but looking up at him as he falls apart from just your mouth is beyond worth it. he shakes his head, eyes leaving yours, squeezing shut, and you can tell he's already close.
his hand leaves your head, forearm laying against his forehead. you tap him, a reminder. look at me. he peeks down, a breathy chuckle pushing through.
"doin' so good for me, yeah? 'm close—" he warns you—you nod in acknowledgment.
you unhinge your jaw, sticking your tongue out so he can watch his cum spill all over it,
he sucks air in through his teeth, and before you know it you're bent over the seat, looking out onto the horizon. you start to speak and he just shushes you, tugging your skirt up and pulling your panties to the side. soaked.
maybe you were just too impatient, because before he could even get comfortable you were reaching back to put it in. his laugh rings behind you, shooing your hand away so he can finish sinking all the way inside you.
his pelvis meets your ass and you almost caught a glimpse of the back of your skull. he started slow, gripping your waist and bringing you back to meet his strokes.
you're squeezing around him so tight, and all he can do is stare in awe at it. his length glistens, coated in your juices. then he couldn't take it, his pace quickening, watching the fat of your ass recoil against his movements.
it feels euphoric, almost unreal. staring out into the night sky, stars twinkling above you, ocean swaying below you, and ekko thrusting into your heat, moaning behind you—it was overwhelming, it had your flesh running hot.
"feels good?" he questions, though your gasps and mewls answer loud and clear.
"fuck, yes."
"mhm, you're mine, right?"
"a-all yours." you nod.
"all mine?" he asks, and it's rhetorical. not like you could reply anyway, because your moans caught in your throat, rendering any chance you had at words useless.
your noises drowned beneath the whirring of the motor paired with the water swaying beneath you, which you're endlessly grateful for. you're lucky that driver pays almost no attention to what's happening behind him.
you were especially loud, and it only got worse as you felt your orgasm building. ekko knew it too, the way your voice shook, the way you tightened around him, the way you begged him not to stop—it was pushing him over the edge too.
"fuck, that's it. just like that. i got you, okay? good."
your cries overlap ekko's softer groans as you came, your form trembling, jolts of pleasure coursing throughout your body as he fucked you through it.
he had to hold back from coming inside you, letting you ride out your high before pulling out to release all over your back.
he gives you no time to recover, immediately diving in for another round, intoxicated with the way you gasps caught in your throat, holding onto the seat for dear life.
he leans down, his lips meeting your shoulder, his brows furrowed. it did not take long for the two of you to get close again, still sensitive from your previous release. within a few minutes, your juices coat his length and another load lands on your back, seeping down and settling into the dip of your spine.
you're both catching your breath, ekko presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, and you have to stop him from kissing you more. "we're almost there," you hiss, and he huffs, lifting off of you to get himself together,
thank god there were paper towels on board. he cleans his release off of your back and skirt, managing to get the both of your appearances together by the time the yacht met the docks.
the moment the captain comes back to thank you for riding with him, ekko's giving him the quickest thank you possible along with his tip and rushing you off of the boat.
"let's get back to the room? i just wanna see that set you have on a little better."
you know that the second that door closes behind you in the hotel, there is not a chance you'll be stopping.
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pssst!: not the most confident in this one.,. i will make up for this one i swear 😔 locking in!
maybe a part 2 with what happens at the hotel cough cough
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