#interesting to see for how many years to come i will find tiny glass in the furthest corners of this room from now on
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snoopyracing · 2 months ago
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grapes and good fortune // ln4
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pairing: lando norris X reader
word count: 4.7k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use
includes: friends to lovers, mutual pining, and fluff
summary: when your plan to find love on new year's eve doesn't work a certain someone may just fix those plans.
a/n: surprise! here's a cute little lando nye fic for you! it was so fun to write and i hope you all enjoy :)
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─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
It’s not the end of the world to be single. You’ve gone your whole life technically being single– each guy you’ve had a thing with never resulted in a full fledged relationship. It never really seemed to bother you that much, you’d learned to be more independent and learned that your time is in fact more valuable than men think. Though, as the years passed and your friends started to get into serious relationships you couldn’t help but feel a little left behind.
You knew everyone’s time would come and seriously you were in your early to mid twenties – you still had a whole lifetime ahead of you. But the third wheeling you seemed to be a professional at by now was starting to get embarrassing. Also, holidays just really seemed to suck while being single. You knew there was more to life than being in a relationship, but god dammit you’re a human. You crave love and affection and no matter how independent you are– you still want to love and be loved. 
Your friend group had unsuccessfully tried setting you up with more guys than you could count. Each one you really did try and give a chance, but there was nothing there. You didn’t think you had high standards by any means, but if you didn’t feel anything with these guys then why waste your time? 
“You went on how many dates this month and none of them piqued your interest?” Your friend grills you as the two of you are sitting on the balcony of your apartment. You’d come back from another unsuccessful date and decided to drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine and a yapping session. 
“Genuinely think there might be something wrong with me at this point.” You complain as you sip the sweet wine in your glass. 
“There isn’t anything wrong with you.” The two dates a week for the past month say different, but you weren’t going to actually disclose that number to her. “Maybe your heart has already laid claim to someone else?” 
“I think I would know if I was in love with someone.” She doesn’t say anything, but the way she inconspicuously sips her wine is telling you what she’s wanting to say. “Not this again.” 
She puts her hands up in defense all while having a shit eating grin on her face. “I didn’t even say anything, but you immediately assuming that’s who I’m talking about says it all.” 
“I’m not in love with Lando.” 
Yes you were. 
“I mean he’s one of my closest friends and it would just make things weird. He also for sure does not look at me in any way other than platonic. He’s got models flocking to him and literally thousands of other girls– I couldn’t compete.” Your friend remains silent once again as she sips her wine and watches the scene in front of her unfold. “Ok– just because I drunkenly admitted last year that I might possibly have a little tiny miniscule amount of feelings towards him does not mean I’m in love with him.” 
“Yes it does.” Your friend replies without missing a beat. 
“No it doesn’t” You say with a huff. 
“Y/N, babe. You don’t see what everyone else sees and maybe your brain is trying to protect itself from the small chance of destruction, but you two are so in love it’s actually ridiculous.” 
“I don’t think he’s looking for a relationship right now. If this season so far is any indication of what next season is gonna be like, do you really think he’ll want a serious relationship to juggle too?” You’d chugged the last bit of wine in your glass and immediately filled it back up. 
A loud scoff comes from your friend. “With some girl he just met? No. You are a whole different story though. You two have history and are quite literally each other’s person. Two peas in a pod. Match made in heaven.” 
You didn’t understand why your friend was so adamant about Lando and you getting together. What if it ended in flames and your friend group is stuck having to play children of divorce? You don’t want that. 
“Do you hear yourself right now? I think you’ve had too much wine because that’s not true.” 
She sits up on the edge of the wicker couch with an annoyed expression painted across her face  “Do you hear yourself? I’ve never seen someone deny themselves happiness like you.” 
“I don’t think I have actual feelings for Lando though. I really think it’s just because we are the only two single people in our friend group and it’s like I feel obligated to somehow have feelings for him. I just need to find the right person and whatever I may be feeling about Lando will go away.” 
If someone could professionally roll their eyes your friend would be a pro. “You’ve already found the right person though!”
Before you can argue back for the hundredth time tonight the familiar tune of an incoming facetime call fills the air. Your phone that’s sitting on the glass coffee table lights up and Lando’s face fills the screen. You glance over at your friend who’s got a smirk on her face that could rival the Cheshire Cat. 
“Speak of the devil.” She laughs. 
You let it ring, fully knowing that if you answer it your friend will be insufferable the whole time you’re talking to him. You do send him a quick text to make sure everything's alright and of course he immediately responds with-
everything's all right.. just missed you is all. 
Which has you locking your phone and stuffing it in the pocket of your hoodie. When you reach for your glass and realize it’s empty again you decide to just grab the bottle and drink straight from it. 
“Drinking from the bottle because you’ve come to terms with how dumb you’ve been?” Your friend teases. 
“Nope. It’s from having to deal with you all evening.” 
Alright so maybe you did have actual feelings for Lando, but you were never going to fully admit that to your friend or anyone else for that matter. You didn’t want to risk ruining what you two already had, which was an amazing friendship. So for the following months you continue to go on an endless amount of dates and with each one that fails your friend's voice rings in your mind.
Maybe you wouldn’t be able to find someone else if you subconsciously compared every guy to Lando. They were never funny enough or charming enough or took themselves too seriously. In the end it was simply the fact that they weren’t Lando. So maybe your heart had already dug its claws into Lando, but you weren’t going to give up without one last battle. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
New Year's Eve. The final night of the year and the one party of the year that celebrates ends and beginnings. You’d hoped that with the plan you had for tonight that your streak of horrible dates would end and the next one would be the one. The trend of eating twelve grapes under a table at midnight on New Year’s Eve had been all over your social media. According to the internet if you were to do this you’d find love or your soulmate the following year– which was something you were so desperate for. So, your said plan was to bring some grapes with you and find a table to sit under. 
As you were taking one last final look in the mirror a familiar British accent echoed through your apartment. “Are you almost ready?” 
You quickly slipped on your heels and grabbed your bag off the dresser, but by the time you turned around there stood Lando, leaning against your doorframe with a slight smirk on his face. “Been waiting forever. It’s gonna be next year by the time we get out of here.” 
His teasing, which usually always got a reaction out of you, was ignored. The sight of him had you frozen in your tracks for a moment. He had on a white button up, which he always looked good in, but it was the couple of undone buttons at the top and the necklace you got him for his birthday last year around his neck that got your attention. There was always something about seeing Lando in things you got him that made that funny feeling bloom in your stomach. Perhaps it was the fact that everytime he chose to wear them you knew he was thinking about you and that when he was away a part of you was always with him. 
“Quit staring.” 
You're knocked out of your trance and the blush that creeps onto your cheeks from getting caught is almost as embarrassing as being caught. “I wasn’t staring. I was admiring my good taste. Should have gotten one myself.” You try to play it off and push your way past him with what little amount of confidence you have at the moment. 
“I’ll get it for you, then we can be matching.” Lando says as he follows behind you. 
“I can buy it myself.” 
“Yeah, but I’m still gonna get it for you anyways.”
You stop in the kitchen and grab the little bag of grapes out of the fridge. “I don’t need you to get it for me Lan.” You’re too preoccupied with figuring out how to fit everything into your small purse to see the utterly confused look on Lando’s face. 
“Ok forget about the necklace. Why the hell are you bringing grapes with you?” 
“Incase I get hungry.” You reply without missing a beat. 
“There will literally be food at the party. I even made sure Max got those little cocktail sausages you like.” 
And there he goes again, making those feelings you’ve tried and are still presently trying to push down come to the surface all because of some damn cocktail sausages. “I appreciate that Lan, but I’ve been on a grape kick lately. Just can’t seem to get enough of them.” 
With your purse finally closed with the grapes securely inside, you head towards the door, more than ready to get to the party. 
“I’ll text Max and tell him to get some grapes delivered.” Lando mumbles as he closes the door behind him. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You’d never considered yourself much of a party girl, but there must have been something in the air tonight because you were living it up. From the dancing to the drinking and then to top it off somehow in the middle of everything you showed off your DJing skills with Lando. 
Somehow you’d managed to unglue yourself from Lando for a moment and ended up in the kitchen among the various kinds of alcohol. You’re pouring the last bit of coke into your coke and malibu when Max comes up beside you. 
“I see you finally escaped from Lando for a moment.” 
An airy laugh emits from you. “Yeah, he’s been a little clingy tonight.” You state as you turn and lean back against the counter, facing the large crowd of people. 
Max copies your actions, but not before grabbing a beer. “What are you talking about tonight? When he’s back home it’s like you two are conjoined at the hip.”  Which was true, but you didn’t get to see Lando as much as you’d like, so you make the most of what you can. “Oh forgot to tell you, your grapes are in the fridge.” He motions towards the stainless steel appliance with his beer bottle. “Lando better pay me back. Do you know how much I paid to get that damn bag delivered? Absolutely insane.” 
Your mouth forms an ‘O’ shape at Max’s words. “I heard him mention something about asking you to get some when we were leaving. I thought he was just joking.” 
Max scoffs. “There is no such thing as Lando joking when it comes to you. Think he’d chop off his own arm to make sure you were happy. Hell if you needed an organ he’d be the first one in line to give you one.” 
This time it’s your turn to scoff. “No he wouldn’t.” 
“Why do you do that?” Max groans. 
You narrow your eyes at him, confused as to what he was referring to. “Do what?” 
“Act like he doesn’t think the world of you.” 
Your mouth opens to reply, but no words come out. Instead you bring your cup to your lips and fill the void with your drink. What Max had said was true, but you couldn’t help it. You figured if you forced yourself to think that Lando didn’t care that deeply about you, then those feelings that you harbor for him wouldn’t rise to the surface. It didn’t help that his behavior recently had you thinking that perhaps he felt the same about you and when you have your mutual friends in your ear implying that to be true it just makes things that much harder for you. 
“You probably haven’t even noticed that he’s been practically watching us talk this whole time have you?” 
You can feel your heart rate start to speed up just at the thought of it. As your eyes scan the room they finally land on the Brit standing in the corner with some other people, but he’s not actually engaging in the conversation, he’s too busy staring back at you. Somehow from across the room you can still see those pretty mixture of blue and green eyes of his sparkle and when he realizes you're finally looking back at him a shy smile spreads across his face before he’s quickly looking away. 
“Wish you two would stop dancing around each other and just admit what we all already know.” Max mumbles before taking a swig of his beer. 
Maybe it’s the mixture of alcohol and the fact that you’ve once again got someone in your ear about Lando and you, but you can sense those feelings starting to claw their way back up and you aren’t sure if you can push them back down tonight. 
“Ten minutes until midnight!” The DJ’s voice travels through the apartment and you’re sure Max will be getting some kind of fee taped to his door in the morning. 
Max says something about talking to you later before exiting the kitchen and you realize with ten minutes till midnight that you’ve got to get your grapes and find a table to fit under. For the moment you push Lando to the back of your mind and focus on your very important task at hand. 
Luckily for you Max had a decently sized dining table in his apartment so with your grapes in hand you crawled under the table, which thankfully was shielded by a tablecloth, and settled in for your feast. 
Lando on the other hand had been searching for you everywhere since the ten minute announcement. He’d literally just seen you in the kitchen with Max and then when he looked back again you were both gone. He’d gone in the bathrooms, the bedrooms, the closets, every single place he could think you would be and it’s like you had vanished. Max had a large apartment, especially to be living in London, but it wasn’t that big to allow for you to not be found. His texts to you had gone unanswered and he began to think maybe you had left, but he knew you would have told him if you were leaving, so that theory went out the window. 
When the five minute announcement hit his ears he began asking people if they had seen you and with each no or i think she was in the kitchen a while ago he received his hopes of finding you before midnight started to diminish. 
He’d finally worked up the courage to tell you how he’d felt tonight. After years of holding himself back and not wanting to ruin what you two already had, he’d decided that life was too short and that he would come to regret not allowing himself to truly love you like he should. He knew you were the one and there wasn’t a bone in his body that didn’t think you didn’t feel the same. So, he was finally going to bite the bullet tonight and he wanted you to be the person he was kissing as the clock struck twelve. But if he couldn’t find you, then how in the world was he supposed to do that? 
Lando was honestly starting to get worried over not being able to find you, screw the whole love confession at this point. What if something had happened to you? He’d been all over Max’s place countless times and he still couldn’t find you. With the official countdown echoing through the apartment he decided to just say fuck it and head to your place and see if you had gone home.
As he was heading to get his coat a familiar sparkly heel sticking out from under the dining table caught his attention. It was the same type of heels he’d seen you put on earlier and he did somewhat of a double take. He wondered if it was the couple drinks he’d had messing with him because why would you be sitting under Max’s dining table? 
He crouches down and slowly lifts the table cloth up, unsure of what he’s going to find underneath it. Everyone is only getting louder and with five seconds until midnight what he finds staring back at him under the table is not at all how he expected his night to end up. There you are with your now empty bag of grapes on the floor and your cheeks stuffed full of said grapes. You resemble something of a chipmunk and Lando can’t help but laugh at you. 
“What the hell are you doing down here?” 
The excessively loud shouting of happy new year from everyone while noise makers and confetti fill the air distract both Lando and you for a moment. He didn’t think this is the position he’d be in right now, he figured he’d be in that crowd with his lips on yours like so many others right now. While you on the other hand didn’t think you’d be caught in such an embarrassing situation, not to mention you hadn’t even gotten all your grapes down, so this stupid thing was probably all for nothing. 
His attention is back on you in no time and he really wants to know what you were doing. Were you that addicted to grapes that you had to hide under the table while you got your fix? If so, he may need to have a talk with you. 
“Seriously, why are you hiding under the table stuffing grapes into your mouth?” He prods again. 
Your mouth is still so full of the grapes that you can’t really talk and all you can manage to get out is leave while simultaneously trying to jab his leg with your heel. You were embarrassed and at this point scared you might choke on the grapes, and you’d rather go out in peace then have Lando cause a scene because you were choking. 
“Ouch!” Lando yelps as your heel finally makes contact with him. You know he’s being dramatic because you barely even kicked him, but you would try anything for him to drop that table cloth and let you be. “Come on, come out from under there.” Lando grabs your arm and practically forces you to come out from under the table.
Luckily, everyone else was too preoccupied with still ringing in the New Year to see you crawl out and as you dust yourself off you're still chomping on the last couple grapes left. The party only seems to be getting crazier and you don’t really feel like staying here until the party inevitably ends at an ungodly hour in the morning, especially now that your plan for love has undoubtedly failed. 
You finally swallow the last couple grapes and take a deep breath, the fear of choking and embarrassment now behind you. “Do you care if I leave? Not really feeling the party that much anymore.” 
Lando doesn’t even question your request. “I’ll walk you home, let me grab our coats and tell Max we are leaving.” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The cold England air hits you as you exit Max’s apartment building and you’re thankful that your place isn’t very far from his. It’s silent between Lando and you for some time, the sound of your heels on the pavement, fireworks in the distance, and other people celebrating are the only things you two hear. 
“Can I ask you something?” Lando finally breaks the silence. 
“Shoot.” 
He takes a deep breath fully knowing once he opens this locked away side of him that there’s no going back. “Have you ever thought about us?” 
You feel your heart skip a beat at his question, yet you try to remain cool and collected. “What do you mean?” 
He stops in his tracks causing you to mimic his actions. “Like,” he motions between the two of you, “us.”
There’s not a doubt in your mind about what he’s referring to and yes you do think about the two of you. Yet your brain feels scrambled once you're actually confronted with the possibility of Lando feeling the same as you. You’d tried so hard to ignore the feelings, hell you’d tried something you saw on the internet to hopefully bring a different man into your life to finally squash those feelings. You’d just never thought you’d be in this position though and it’s throwing you into a whirlwind. 
Lando isn’t sure what your silence means and he figures he’s already started, he might as well just fully admit it at this point. 
“Fuck it. I told myself I was going to do this tonight and I’m not gonna chicken out again.” His cheeks are rosy from the cold and you can tell by the way his pretty eyes dart all around your face that he’s trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say. “I’ve got feelings for you.” He finally blurts out.
“No scratch that I’m in love with you Y/N. Think I have been for some time now. I’ve tried telling you how I felt for what seems like ages, but I’ve always been too scared to. I’ve been afraid that you wouldn’t feel the same and to me I’d rather bottle up my feelings and keep you in my life then tell you how I feel and lose you. But clearly I’ve grown tired of that and realized that the reward would be higher than the risk. You’re my person Y/N. I couldn’t imagine life without you and to have you be mine would make life that much better. So here I am baring my heart to you on some street in London on New Year’s Eve. I actually had a whole plan on how I was-” 
His rambling while you loved most of the time was cut off by your desire to shut him up with your lips on his and you did just that. You grabbed him by his coat and pulled him into you, your lips crashing together. It takes him a moment to realize what's happening, but when his brain finally starts to work and he kisses you back it’s everything you could have imagined and more.
Kissing Lando is like heaven on Earth and the way his soft lips feel against yours has you wishing you would have just stopped being so stubborn and listened to your friends ages ago. His large warm hands come out of his pockets and he cups your face as he deepens the kiss, which has you feeling lightheaded and warm all over. 
There’s fireworks being let off not too far away that light up the sky above you, but you’re too engrossed in each other to pay them much mind. It’s truly like a scene straight out of a movie and you know you’ll remember this moment forever. 
You two finally pull away to breathe and it’s like you can see the world in a whole new way. The depressing grey landscape of London in the winter time suddenly looks like it was painted in technicolor and neither of you can wipe the cheek hurting grin off your faces. “So I guess you feel the same?” He asks. 
“Yes Lando Norris, I’m in love with you too. Have been for a while and like you I didn’t want to ruin what we already have. To me there was no possible way that you felt the same and I hate rejection and the idea of losing you. So, I went on a million dates trying to find someone that would replace how I felt about you, but I guess you can’t replace someone who your heart has already laid claim to.” 
You feel Lando intertwine your fingers with his and it’s like everything just feels right in the world. 
“I’m glad we stopped being so stubborn and that I don’t have to see you out with all those random guys anymore.” 
“Believe me, none of them even came close to comparing to you. It was like going on a date with a sack of potatoes most of the time.” 
His infectious laugh fills your ears and you feel your heart swell. You can’t believe this was what you were depriving yourself of for so long. 
The rest of the walk back to your apartment is spent walking hand in hand. All while little giggles escape each of you ever so often and Lando occasionally kisses you on the head or lifts your intertwined hands up to plant a kiss there. 
“I have to ask again. It’s really been bugging me. What were you doing under that table?” Lando asks as you near your apartment building. A loud groan emits from you and there isn’t anything less that you would want to talk about than that. “Come on, just tell me!” 
“Fine! I saw this thing on the internet that if you eat twelve green grapes under a table at midnight that it’s supposed to bring you luck in the love department in the New Year. Like you’d find your soulmate or something. I was so desperate to try and get over these feelings I have for you so what we had wouldn’t be ruined that I was willing to try anything.” 
He’s silent for a moment and then he looks at you with the biggest smile on his face. “Well I’d say it worked didn’t it? You’ve found love and not to be overzealous, but I’d say your soulmate too.” 
You’re stunned for a moment when you realize that yes, the grapes did work, just not in the way you planned. The universe had put Lando in your life years ago and for some weird reason had you wait this long to finally truly be in one another's lives, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Hell, you’d eat a whole package of grapes if that meant Lando and you got to be together in every lifetime. 
“They did, didn't they? I guess almost choking to death was worth it in the end.” 
“I mean I know I’m every woman’s dream, but you didn’t almost have to kill yourself to get my attention baby.” 
You playfully slap his arm as he laughs at you. That big head of his was sometimes fully ego and you realized you were going to have to put up with it all the time now. “Oh shut up.” 
“Yeah, but you love me.” He states before pressing a kiss to your lips, which has your mind feeling like TV static once again. 
When you pull away and look him in the eyes there’s nothing but pure love staring back at you and you know that this is who is meant to be in your life, till the end. “More than you’ll ever know.” 
The next morning you receive a group text from Max with Lando and you in it.  
max: why have i found an empty bag with what looks to be a grape stem in it under my dining table??? i fully know it was one of you.
you: i don’t know what you're talking about. 
lando: me either. no grapes were consumed by us last night. must have been someone else. 
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ahgasegotarmy116 · 9 months ago
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Faking It | Jeon Jungkook | Chapter One
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Summary: Being divorced by the time you're thirty isn't the best feeling in the world but what happens when your parents find someone from your past that's in a similar boat? Pairing: f!reader (30) x Single Dad Jungkook (33) (Arranged Marriage Slow Burn?) Word Count: 11.3k (oh man holy shit) Warnings: Troubles with conceiving/seeing pregnancies to full term, Jungkook's first wife passed away in childbirth. (These themes will be spoken about throughout the fic and I will add extra warnings when need be in future chapters) a/n: Okay this one is gonna be a long one (in terms of chapter length, idk how many parts there will be) I'm really really in love with this story line so I hope you'll come along this cute, silly, awkward, heartwarming and heartbreaking journey with me 🥰 p.s. I've been brainstorming with @kkusadmirer (ofc 🤭) about this fic for a while now and I've just fallen in love with these characters too much that I had to get at least one part out. Okay okay enough from me. I hope you enjoy! (barely edited per usual I'm sry 😅)
"You should start dating again" my mom says to me, a dinner with a table for two this time since she said she wanted to talk to me about something important. If I would've known it was to nag me about something like this again I would've declined the invitation.
"Mom I already told you, I just got divo-" "You got divorced last year" she cuts me off and I sigh, knowing I'll probably get no where with this argument but continue on nevertheless.
"Point being, it hasn't been that long since Robert and I got divorced. I need time and space to figure out what I want out of life. I'm not interested in rushing into another marriage just for it to fail again" I explain and she simply downs the rest of her champagne in response, polishing it off in record time.
"You don't want to end up an old maid who didn't give me any grandchildren do you?" she says, repeating the same old argument again. "Mom I'm thirty, not forty five. I still have plenty of time to worry about babies and getting married again" I argue and she rolls her eyes before asking for another glass when the waiter passes by.
"You should at least try. Don't you like going out on dates?" she asks and I sigh, hating having this conversation over and over again.
"Dating was fun in my twenties but now that I'm more interested in finding someone to settle down with, it seems like all the guys that are remotely my age and happen to be decent human beings are already married" I explain and watch how she immediately takes her glass of champagne off the table once it's placed in front of her.
I'm glad she's drinking because having this conversation with her when she's sober is even more painful.
"You're exaggerating honey. I'm sure there is a fine young man just waiting for you around the corner" but before I'm able to respond to her, her eyes suddenly light up and she quickly gets out of her seat.
"Is it really you?" she says and another woman around her age that I've never seen before comes up to greet her. "How are you? It's been so long!" the mystery woman says and they quickly share an embrace before she turns to face me.
"And who is this beautiful young woman here with you?" she asks, making me shy away from them. "Oh this is my daughter y/n. Y/n this is Mrs. Jeon" she introduces us and tells me all about how they used to go to college together.
"Oh wow I think I remember my mom mentioning you before. You used to come over when I was little right?" I question, now remembering seeing her face in some of the pictures in my baby album.
"That's right! Little Jungkook and I used to come visit you all the time when you were just a teeny tiny little thing. You were the easiest baby I've ever come across, always sleeping and when you woke up you were as happy as can be" she rambles and I get a warm feeling in my chest, loving to have met someone who clearly cared so deeply for my mother and I.
"Who's Jungkook" I ask, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Jungkook is my son, he's just a few years older than you. I remember he was so fascinated by you, always wanting to come over and would watch over you as you slept, never causing a fuss as long as you were around" she says and I blush at the fact that her son would care about me just as much if not more than she does.
"How is he? Is he doing alright?" my mother asks and Mrs. Jeon gets a somber look on her face eyes fluttering to the floor before responding.
"Actually, he lost his wife a few years ago. She passed away after she gave birth to their daughter" she mumbles and I feel my chest tighten up at the thought of someone so young losing their life to something that is supposed to be so beautiful.
"My condolences to you all" I say, my eyes going glossy and she smiles in return, the memory bringing a tear to her eye as well. "Thank you love, that's very kind of you" she says, placing a hand on my shoulder before she clears her throat and blinks back her tears, wanting to put on a brave face in public.
"Why don't you come visit us at our home tomorrow evening? I would love to catch up and it would be good if the kids got reacquainted again" my mother suggests and I glare at her, knowing exactly what she's doing but also knowing there's no way I could stop her. 
"I would love that! Our husbands might enjoy catching up too since they used to get along so well" Mrs. Jeon points out. "Then it's settled! How would you feel about making it a dinner instead?" my mother questions, digging us deeper into this evening we'll all be spending together. "I think that sounds perfect!" she agrees and I tune out the rest of the conversation, already trying to mentally prepare myself for the scheming I know my mother has planned.
~~~~
Kicking off my shoes and walking into my apartment I'm greeted by the serene sound of silence. 
My black tuxedo cat meows as he jumps down from his cat tower and stretches for a second before coming over to greet me. "Hi Salem" I say, scooping him up and carrying him with me into my bedroom where I plop him down in the middle of my bed. "Mom only invited me to dinner because she wanted to tell me to start dating again" I relay to him, while I walk around my room, grabbing all the things I'll need to get ready for bed.
"I should've known she was up to something when she decided to invite me out on a random Wednesday night to go to my favorite restaurant. If the previous glances I had of the totals on those receipts didn't clue me in enough I don't know what would" I say in disbelief, having convinced myself hours earlier that it might've been about something good instead of another chance to nag me about something.
"I don't know why I even bother sometimes. She just has this worst case scenario mindset that I'm going to die alone and not leave a legacy. I understand that I'm their only child but with the way she talks, you would think I was well into my forties already" I say, verbally processing to him while he curls up into a ball, his eyes watch me walk back and forth until I walk into the en-suite bathroom to turn on the shower.
"Thanks for always listening to me Salem" I say, walking back over to him and scratching his head, "Don't know what I would do without you" I mumble before walking back over to the bathroom and closing the door.
Looking in the mirror I study my features, my hair styled just how I like it, my brows perfectly shaped but when I get to my eyes I notice it. I notice why my mother has gotten so worried about me.
It's as if the light's gone out of them. It's more than just 'Hey it's been a long day and I'm tired' no it's 'I don't even know what I'm doing here anymore' and for the first time, I admit to myself that I truly feel that way.
I reach for my cleanser and quickly wash off the little makeup that I still have on, lips completely plain and gone back to their natural color and some how my cheeks don't seem to be as rosy anymore after I had made sure to put on some more blush today to bring some color back to my face. Maybe it's not the makeup that's been washing me out, but the way that I've been living.
I will admit my days consist of going to work and coming home and doing that same thing over and over again. I don't really go out much and I only have a few friends but ever since I got divorced I just end up politely declining any sort of invitation I get from them. Doesn't matter if it's dinner or drinks or clubbing or even just a shopping trip.
I just can't get myself wanting to do anything anymore.
I step into the shower and I flinch slightly at the burning sensation the hot water brings to me but adjust it and step further under the stream once it's just to my liking. While going though my shower routine mindlessly I start trying to get to the bottom of what has got me living like this.
Robert wasn't the best husband in the world, mainly because he cheated on me but before that things were good between us. He made me laugh and was a perfect gentleman that always made me feel special and when we got married I swear I thought I couldn't be happier. 
It felt like my life was falling into place, our life.
Until it wasn't.
I'm knocked out of my train of thought when I hear Salem pawing at the door and remember now that in my whirl winded state of mind I forgot to feed him. "Sorry Salem I'll be right out!" I call out for him and he meows in response. I swear that cat is more intelligent than I am most days.
I finish up my uninteresting night as I always do, turning out the lights and cuddling up with Salem until I eventually fall asleep but it took a little longer tonight. Thoughts full of what my future might look like if I don't start living instead of just existing. 
As the 'what ifs' plague my mind they eventually drown themselves out as that same welcoming feeling of calm finally lulls me to sleep. 
~~~~~~
"Hurry up they're almost here" my mother says, yanking me inside the house before I even have a chance to knock on the front door. "Nice to see you too mom" I say under my breath and she's wound up so tight it doesn't even phase her. I can tell she's been working hard to make sure everything is perfect once the Jeons arrive.
"Did you get that wine I told you to get?" she questions, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the wine bottle carrier in my hand, quickly taking it and rushing into the kitchen. "Yeah no problem mom you're welcome" I say, talking to the air in front of me still waiting for her to show any sign of gratitude.
"Go place your things in your old room so they're out of the way" she call out, leaving me sighing and trudging off to do as she says.
Once I retrace my steps and walk past the door to go to join her in the kitchen I'm stopped in my tracks when the doorbell rings.
"Oh honey can you get that? My hands are tied here" my mom yells and I take a deep breath in and out before doing just that.
"Hello y/n! It's so nice to see you again" Mrs. Jeon greets me as I step aside and let them in, soon after her is her husband who holds out his hand in greeting. "It's been quiet a long time hasn't it? I remember when you use to be-" "Grandpa! Grandpa! I wanna meet the pretty lady too!" a little girl no older than five years old says, walking around her grandfather's legs to get to me, greeting me with the most adorable bunny smile.
"And now who might this be?" I ask, already melting into a puddle from seeing how absolutely adorable she is. "I'm Juni" she laughs when I go down to her level. "Well it's very nice to meet you Juni and how old are you?" I ask and she lights up when I continue taking an interest in her. "I'm four! Well Daddy says I'm turning five soon but it feels like it's taking forever. Right Daddy?" she says and looks back towards the man now left standing in the doorway.
"That's right Juni" he responds and the deep tenor of his voice sends a slight shiver down my spine, so full of love and admiration that is obvious to anyone who might come across the pair. "Oh!" I say, quickly straightening back up to meet this mysterious Jungkook and my throat goes dry once I've laid eyes on him.
Tall, strong build, dark brown hair that's well taken care of and styled perfectly, strong jawline accompanied by the contrast of the softest look in his brown almost black galaxy eyes that are still focused on his beautiful daughter.
"I'm sorry" I say but he shakes his head before he turns his head in my direction, taking in the sight of me as well before speaking. "That's alright, Juni kind of grabs everyone's attention right away" he says giving me a soft smile. "I'm Jungkook" he says, holding his hand out to me. "Y/n" I say shyly and shake it, his hands being much larger than mine is comforting in a way.
"My mom told me we used to come see you when we still lived here" he says once we let go, Juni now quietly watching our exchange. "Used to?" I question, curious to know more about why our mothers had lost touch. "We went back to our hometown for a while and then moved back to the city soon after Juni was born" he says and I nod my head, accepting that as an answer for now but wanting to know more.
"Sounds like I was just an infant though so I don't really have any memory of it" I admit while rocking back and forth on my heels, a nervous habit I've picked up over the years. "It's alright, I didn't expect you to remember" he chuckles, "I was only three so I don't remember much of it either" we laugh at his returned confession and a more comfortable air settles between us.
"Well it's nice to finally meet you" I say and he nods his head. "Likewise" he replies and we stand there for a moment, not really knowing where to go from here then, thankfully Juni breaks the silence.
"Daddy I wanna talk to the pretty lady" she says and grabs my hand and pulls me away from him. "Be nice Juni" he warns and she pouts, leaving me crouching down to her level and tilting my head to meet her gaze. "There's enough of me to go around little one. Don't worry" I say, booping her on the nose and making her giggle again.
Jungkook walks in a bit more and closes the door behind him, watching our little exchange before my mother comes out to check on us.
"Y/n why don't you take Jungkook and..." she says trailing off, not having learned his daughter's name yet. "Juni" Jungkook says and my mother smiles at the sound of the adorable name. "Jungkook and Juni outside. I'm sure she'd love to run around a little bit before dinner is ready" she suggests and I agree while Juni starts jumping up and down, excited to explore an unfamiliar place.
Jungkook follows closely behind as I lead the way but I ultimately end up getting dragged along by Juni who is surprisingly perceptive and has already mapped out the door that we'll be going through. "Come on Daddy keep up!" she calls after him once we've reached the door, looking back and seeing that he's fallen behind.
"I'm right behind you Juni" Jungkook chuckles and once we step outside Juni lets go and runs back and forth all around the yard, looking at anything and everything she can find.
"Be careful!" I say, worried that she could hurt herself but Jungkook comes over and stands next to me and reassures me she'll be fine.
"It's alright, if she gets hurt it'll be a little reminder to pay attention to what she's doing next time. That's the only way kids really learn right?" he says turning towards me, granting me with a soft smile, almost as if he's looking for validation on his parenting choice.
"Of course," I respond, returning the smile, "even some adults need to crash and burn before they learn their lesson sometimes" I point out and it makes him relax a bit more, thankful to see that he's right in his dealings with situations like this.
"She's a good kid" I say after leading him over to the patio set we have out here so we can sit down and watch her. "Thanks, it's been difficult raising her on my own so I'm never really sure if I'm doing a good job or not" he admits and I nod my head, taking a second to think about my response since it's a sensitive subject.
"I can tell that you love her very much so I have no doubt in my mind that you'll always do right by her" and I can tell that my words bring him a sense of comfort. Being a single parent can be extremely difficult especially when you lose the love of your life as soon as you become a father. 
I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone.
"Y/n?" I hear him call out and realize that my mind had drifted off for a second. "I'm sorry what did you say?" I say, my cheeks heating up from having been caught daydreaming. "I asked if you had any children of your own" he chuckles and I again try to figure out the best way to word this but figure the best way to go about it is to be honest. 
I've got no reason to hide from him.
"No, I got divorced last year and my ex husband and I were never able to have children" I say, looking down at my lap, embarrassed to have admitted it but also feeling a certain weight lifted off my shoulders.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know" he trails off and I panic, realizing I might've made him feel uncomfortable, telling him something so personal so soon. "No don't be, I honestly dodged a bullet with that one" I chuckle, hoping to lighten the situation a bit which thankfully it does as I see his body relax a bit.
"Our relationship had been on the rocks soon after we got married and I don't think we were a good match for each other so I think it was the universe's way of doing me a favor in making us somewhat biologically incompatible" I chuckle and he softly does the same.
"Biologically incompatible" he questions, a deeper meaning obviously hidden behind those words. "We both got checked out and everything looked completely fine but I guess it wasn't meant to be, thank God" I sigh, sincerely thanking whoever might've been in charge of making that executive decision for us.
"I'm not exactly sure what to say to that but I'm glad it worked out?" he states almost as if it was a question and I laugh, in response hoping I can recover this incredibly awkward conversation. "I'm sorry, that was a huge overshare that I probably should've kept to myself" I say, clearing my throat in hopes it would aid in clearing the peculiar air that had settled between us.
"You have nothing to apologize for, I asked and I feel honored that you felt comfortable enough to be so transparent with your answer" he says, the warmth in his tone giving me an ache in my chest. How could someone be so kind to someone they've just met? It's as if I could tell him anything and he would listen to me as if I was the only person in the world.
"Daddy!" 'Well me and Juni', I say to myself and watch as his attention now shifts to his daughter who is running up behind me. "Daddy look!" Juni says, holding out her hands that are now thoroughly caked in mud but hold a rock that is almost a perfectly shaped heart in the center of her palm. "Oh Juni" Jungkook chuckles, the ends of her dress now matching the state of her hands and neither Jungkook nor I can hold in our laughter.
"That's a very beautiful rock Juni! You're so clever" I say and I can see a sense of pride straighten her posture a little bit. "Juni your beautiful dress" Jungkook chuckles, clearly not minding but also trying to figure out what to do. "I'm sorry Daddy" she say, that pride slowly dwindling after seeing the mess she's made of herself.
"Hey Juni" I say, turning her attention back to me and I can see her spirits lift a little. "Would you like to see some of the clothes that I used to wear when I was your age?" I ask and her eyes light up at the thought. "Did you wear pretty dresses too?" she asks, clearly excited about seeing more new things. Her childlike wonderment makes my heart ache. Must run in the family.
"I did, but none of them were as pretty as yours. If you like, you can borrow one of mine while we wash this one" I suggest and the way her head nods up and down so fast makes me chuckle.
"Let's go to my room then! Hopefully we can find something you'll like" I say, standing up and straightening my dress while Jungkook reaches out for Juni's foot.
"Let's take your shoes off before we go back inside baby. We wouldn't want to track any mud into the pretty lady's house right?" Jungkook says, flashing a soft smile at me before looking back down to complete his intended task and Juni complies right away. 
My breath hitches as he purposefully uses the nickname Juni had given me and I quickly walk past them and open the door to go inside, trying to clear my head for a second, willing myself to keep it together.  
"Are you coming with us?" Juni asks and he nods his head, "I gotta go clean your shoes off first though" he says and I walk all three of us over to the bathroom so Jungkook can do just that as well as wash Juni's hands off.
"Wow!" is the first word that comes out of her mouth when we walk into the butterfly themed bedroom, mesmerizing her from the first glance. "Your room is so pretty!" she says, quickly running around here and there, being careful not to get too close since we haven't gotten a chance to change her dress yet.
"You like it?" I question and she's quick to nod her head again. "I wish my room looked like this" she says, spying all of the little butterfly details from the dainty embroidering on the bedspread to the knobs on the dresser, all of them working in harmony.
"We can go look for some butterfly stuff next time we go to the store if you'd like" Jungkook says while he walks into the room and right up to her while she stares up at the ceiling where there are a couple scattered across it. Nothing is too over the top but there is clearly a theme going on that she is captivated by.
"Really?" she asks, confirmation of what he's said being important to make sure she's hear him right. "Promise" he says holding out his pinky that she quickly wraps her's around as best as she can with her little ones being so tiny in comparison to his. She looks at the two of us before beckoning Jungkook to come closer so she can whisper something in his ear.
"Can the pretty lady come with us too?" she 'whispers' in his ear almost as loud as her speaking voice and I try to hold back my laughter, pretending like I didn't hear a thing. "Why don't you ask her?" he whispers and when he leans back she looks him in the eyes and he nods to further encourage her.
"Um, would you like to go shopping with us to get butterflies for my room too?" she asks, walking up to me shyly. Jungkook looks at me with a soft smile and I notice how the tips of his ears have almost gotten a little pink, his expression soft and charming but his body still showing tell tale signs of nervousness.
"Sure Juni, I'd love to go shopping with you" I say and she giggles in response while running back to her Daddy. "Can we go right now?" she asks jumping up and down. "We'll go another time don't worry baby, we've gotta set up a time so the pretty lady can go with us too right?" he reminds her and although she's sad she has to wait she nods in agreement. "Good, now let's get you out of this so we can make you all nice and clean again" he says, unzipping the back of her dress and revealing the cute little white tank top and tights that she wore under it.
I focus my attention on opening up the closet and grabbing a couple of dresses out for her to choose from. "These ones should fit. Which one would you like to wear Juni?" I say and her eyes flitter back and forth between all of them before giving her a Daddy a devious smile and hugging them to her chest. "I want all of them" she giggles and my heart melts, thinking about how fun it would be if I had a daughter just like her.
"Pick one Juni" Jungkook chuckles and she pulls back flipping through the selection I've made before her eyes light up and find the one she's dying to wear. "This one, this one!" she says, lightly holding onto the skirt and jumping up and down. I shift my grasp on them and hold out the one she chose for Jungkook to take and once he does there a static jolt of electricity that shocks us leaving the both of us pulling away slightly.
"Sorry it's probably from all the fabric of the dresses" I explain and he smiles in response. "Don't worry about it. A little spark never hurt anyone" he says and it's almost as if his voice had dropped a bit with that remark, leaving me widening my eyes a bit before turning back around and placing the dresses back in the closet. 
Why does he make me so nervous?
"Lady, lady look!" I hear from behind, and watch as Juni turns this way and that once Jungkook has finished putting the dress on her. "My goodness Juni don't you look adorable!" I say and she runs up to the the mirror in the corner of the room, watching the skirt swish this way and that. "Say thank you Ms y/n" Jungkook says, correcting Juni and finally telling her my name. She sounded too cute calling me 'the pretty lady' I just didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.
"Thank you Ms y/n!" she says, running up to me and wrapping her arms around my legs since she is still  too small to reach anywhere else. "You're welcome Juni" I say, smiling down at her and smoothing her hair down. "Remember Juni, we're just borrowing it so we can wash your dress. We have to give it back to Ms. y/n before we leave" Jungkook says and I can see her excitement dwindle a bit but is no less thankful for being able to wear it tonight.
"Thank you for letting me borrow it Ms. y/n!" she says and I smile again, falling more and more in love with this adorable little girl with every smile she graces me with. "You're welcome" I say and she lets go of me and twirls around in it before stopping.
"Oh! I promise to be really careful and keep this one clean" she says holding out her pinky to do just as she had done with her father moments ago and I kneel down to her level and do just that before booping her on the nose causing another fit of giggles to spill out of her.
"Y/n, dinner is ready" my mother says while poking her head around the corner and I can tell she is completely satisfied by the scene that she's walked in on. "Oh Juni what a beautiful dress!" my mother says, noticing it right away, remembering it was one of my favorites. "Ms y/n gave it to me!" she says, swishing around in it again before doing a full twirl for us.
"Well aren't you the most darling little girl I've ever seen! Are you ready to eat? I heard that mashed potatoes are one of your favorite foods right?" my mom says, holding out her hand for Juni to take and she gladly does.
"Did my grandma tell you that?" she asks, clearly surprised that this complete stranger already knew something about her. "Yes she did. I hope you like them!" my mom says and Juni rushes down the hallway dragging my mom behind her. "Juni be careful!" Jungkook calls out to her but my mom just laughs it off.
"Why don't you show Jungkook where the laundry room is so you can put her dress in the washer" my mom offers up and I nod my head and look up at him. "That's okay I can just wash it when we get home" he says, politely declining the offer. "It's alright, it's best to wash it right away so it doesn't stain" I say, holding out my hand for the dress and he smiles before handing it to me and following my lead.
"You have a lovely home" he says shyly, looking this way and that taking notice of the small details just as Juni did. 'Like father like daughter' I think to myself. "It was my childhood home as you could probably tell from my old room" I say and he hums in response as I stop at the door to the laundry room.
"I know Juni is never going to stop talking about it" he chuckles and I smile at the loving tone that is always present in his voice whenever he speaks about her. We stand there in silence for a bit while I gather the various cleaning products I'll need.
"If you like, I can show you how to get stains like this out? If there was ever a day when I was her age that I didn't get some sort of dirt, mud or grass stains on my clothes my mother would write that down as a national holiday" I say and he laughs at that before accepting the offer.
"Sure, I'd like that" for some reason I can't seem to find the right words so I simply turn around and rinse off the mud in the little sink we have in here. "Do you think you could get that one for me?" I ask, nodding toward one of the stain removers. He wordlessly does as I ask and helps apply a drop or two of it to each of the areas I point out.
"I could've done that" he says now realizing how he's just standing there watching me clean his daughter's dress. "No, that's okay I offered!" I say, reassuring him that I don't mind. I wordlessly ask for the next stain remover before rubbing it in and ringing out the excess water. He opens up the washer lid for me and I toss it in and look this way and that for the laundry detergent.
"Looking for this?" he asks, pulling it off the shelf above the washer. "See, that's a perk of living on my own now. I don't have to worry about things being up too high for me anymore" I chuckle and quickly scoop in the appropriate amount and start the washer.
"Well let me know if you ever need anyone to get something that's out of your reach, it's one of the perks of being tall" he jokes and I laugh but almost shy away from the fact that he expects to see me again. "So I've heard" I say and try to put the detergent back on my own but it soon tips back over and is close to crashing down until he catches it, which in turn ends with him trapping me between him and the washer.
He slides the detergent back in it's spot and takes half a step back, giving me the smallest bit of space. "Why didn't you let me help you? I was standing right here?" he asks, tilting his head at me. "I don't know, I guess I'm just used to doing things on my own now" I chuckle awkwardly. "Well hopefully you'll get used to letting me help you soon" he says, finally taking another step back and giving me a bit more space to breathe.
"Sorry about that" I apologize awkwardly, leaning my back against the washer now with him leaning up against the wall directly in front of me and giving me a crooked smile. "Don't apologize, there's nothing wrong with being independent" he says and quickly scans my body but he does it so fast that if I would've blinked I would've missed it.
"Daddy it's time for dinner" Juni says, her soft steps not having been heard by either of us over the sound of the washer, breaking us out of the little moment that we had been having. "Okay Juni we're coming" he chuckles and holds out his hand for her to take but she giggles and dodges it, reaching for mine instead.
I squeeze past Jungkook as this little room is only wide enough for one person to walk through and the front of our bodies brush up against each other only for a moment until she's tugged me halfway out the door. "Let's be a train Daddy! Grab onto Ms. y/n's hand so you can be the caboose!" she says, turning this trip down the hallway into a game.
"Oh that's okay sweetie why don't you-" he starts but I hold out my hand for him to take, him only having refused for my sake, not wanting to make me uncomfortable with any unwanted skinship. "Grab on Daddy!" Juni giggles and I look up at him and see that he's looking down at me. He chuckles before grabbing onto my hand and the both of us are soon trailing behind Juni as she drags us to the dining room.
Once we get to the dinner table Juni lets go of my hand and runs back to where Jungkook's mom is so she can continue to help her eat her mashed potatoes. 
When everyone notices that Jungkook and I have arrived, we're greeted with four sets of eyes, all of them extremely happy to see us. It's then when I realize that we were still holding hands so I gently slide mine out of his, almost wishing I didn't have to.
He looks down at where our hands had been connected when I do and I can almost see that he's also disappointed that I let go but his expression is quickly replaced by an awkward smile aimed at our parents. 
When I look at the table I see that Jungkook and I are meant to sit directly across from each other. Which I'm sure is another one of my mother's ploys to get us to keep glancing up at each other, this time though I don't really mind.
When I go to walk to one side to sit down next to Mr. Jeon, Jungkook follows right behind me. 
"Oh did you want to sit on this side?" I ask him and he shakes his head, "No, I just wanted to pull your chair out for you" he says and I feel butterflies in my stomach. "Oh, okay" I say quietly and watch as he does just that and slides the chair in behind me once I've sat down. "Thank you" I reply, smiling up at him and he does so in return before rounding the table to take a seat in his place.
"So y/n, your mother told us that you work in photography, is that right?" she asks and I take a drink of water before responding. "Well not really, I've done a few freelance jobs here and there. Enough to keep me afloat so to say but I hope to do it full time soon!" I say and I see Jungkook perk up at that.
"Jungkook has always loved photography as well! He's always been tinkering away with cameras since he was just a few years older than Juni" his mother says while Jungkook cleans off Juni's face as it seems like she's gotten more food on her face than in her mouth.
"What subject do you usually shoot?" I ask, curious to see where his interests lie. "Mostly editorial, but I tend to enjoy the shoots a lot more when they have to do with nature. I believe beauty can be found in almost anything so I tend to just capture whatever inspires me at the moment" he says, his answer being very similar to mine.
"I feel the same way" I respond simply before shying away from the topic as I feel our parents are studying our interaction.
Once they notice the silence they decide to pick up the conversation just throwing facts about Jungkook and I back and forth, pretty much doing the getting to know you game for us without giving us much room to get a word in edgewise. Which leaves the both of us to just follow the conversation and occasionally making eye contact when either side makes a slightly embarrassing comment.
"Hey Dad" Jungkook calls out to his father over the never ending conversation they're having about us. "How's that new project at work going?" he says and I can already tell that it's one of those kinds of topics that once you get him started on it he won't stop and that's just the case as we now watch the conversation take a turn that is thankfully so far off from the two of us.
As time ticks by and the subjects change a few more times I notice that Jungkook has started to get up and clear the table to which I jump up in response to help him.
"Oh Jungkook don't worry about that I can do it later" my mother says but he shakes his head. "It's the least I could do after you've provided this wonderful dinner for my family and I" he says and I can almost see my mother swooning from his response. "Well thank you very much, sweetie can you show him where to place them, just next to the sink is fine" she says to me and I nod, looking up at him and nodding my head towards the direction of the kitchen.
Once we've gone there and back from the table a few times I decide to just start loading up the dishwasher, trying to escape that mortifying conversation for as long as I can. "I brought your glass for you. Wasn't sure if you were planning to finish it or not" he says, walking over and placing my wine glass on the counter next to me. "Thanks" I say quietly, neither of us having said a word to each other since the very beginning of that dinner.
"Your parents are really sweet" he says, breaking the ice and clearly acknowledging how obvious they all were about their motives. "Yours too. I'm sorry about tonight" I say and his brows furrow, clearly not understanding why I would need to apologize. "I knew my mom would end up doing something like this but once her mind is made up there's no stopping her" I admit and he gives me a crooked smile in response.
"Don't worry, I knew what all of them were up to too. My mother was praising you so much and telling me how beautiful and smart and respectful you are so I had an inkling that this was their plan all along" he says and I turn away from him, trying to hide my flustered expression.
"She's right you know" he says, coming around to stand next to me, leaning against the counter while I face it, cleaning up the inside of the sink and grabbing the towel next to me to dry my hands.
"Right about what?" I question, now turning to face him and noticing just how close he's gotten. "About how beautiful you are" he says and I have to blink a few times, trying to figure out why this incredibly handsome man in my kitchen is flirting with me.
I just wanna thank past me because whatever I did in my last life must've been incredible if I'm being offered up a man as remarkable as he is.
"I-" I start but am soon interrupted by my mom walking in on us. "Y/n could you- oh! I'm sorry, as you were" she says, taking small backward steps out of the kitchen, keeping hers eyes on the two of us before turning around to walk back to the living room that they had moved to.
"I'm sorry about her" I say, taking a drink of my wine but he laughs it off. "It's alright, I don't mind" he says watching me with curious eyes as I polish off the rest of it. "Juni has taken a real liking to you" he says and my heart melts at the sound of her name.
"Really? She's probably the happiest child I've ever seen. I really like her too" I say and he smiles, no doubts memories over the years flashing through his head.
"You've done a really good job raising her Jungkook" I say, and his eyes flutter back to mine, this time being the first time I've spoken his name and it looks as if just that alone brought him so much satisfaction. "Thank you y/n" he says, and I feel my heart flutter, the deep baritone of his voice sending a shiver down my spine.
"Daddy can I have some cake?" we hear as Juni walks into the kitchen, "Can I have some cake..." Jungkook says, trailing off and waiting for those magic words. "Please?" she says, realizing what he had been getting at.
"Sure baby, Ms. y/n and I will bring it out in a second okay?" he says making her smile as she runs out of the kitchen "Thank you" she calls out over her shoulder leaving the two of us laughing at her enthusiasm.
"That's probably what my mom was coming in to ask us for" I say and he nods in agreement, helping me carry everything out so we can all have a slice of the small cake my mom had gotten for tonight. "How much you want to bet that they sent Juni looking for us earlier too?" he whispers to me as we make our way over to where everyone else has gathered. "You might be right about that one" I whisper back, quickly catching onto all of their little games.
After setting the cake and all of the plates and forks down on the coffee table my mom takes on the task of cutting it up and serving it, with the very first piece going to little Miss Juni. "Thank you!" she says, eyes wide as saucers leaving all of us cooing at her. "Eat slow Juni" Jungkook reminds her, no doubt having troubles with her eating her desserts too quickly.
I take on the task of helping my mother hand out the slices and once I give one to Jungkook I finally notice that the only empty seat is right next to him and he looks down at it before looking back up at me in a silent invitation to sit down and I take it cautiously.
The couch that we're sitting on is kind of a love seat ironically, seeing as the whole theme of tonight is trying to set us up with each other.
Once I've sat down I realize that I've sat right next to him to the point of where my shoulder ended up bumping into his. "Oh! I'm sorry" I say, scooting away from him but with the size of the couch I don't really end up moving all that much. "It's okay I don't mind" he says, before taking a bite of his cake and turning to face the rest of the group.
The seven of us continue talking and talking until we notice that Juni has fallen asleep in her grandma's lap. "Here mom let me take her" Jungkook says, standing up but both my mom and his stand up and wave him off. "That's okay, we're just gonna go put her down in y/n's room" my mom says and before he's able to say otherwise they've disappeared down the hallway.
"Does she have school tomorrow?" I ask once he's settled back down. "No, she's on spring break right now until next Monday" he relays and I nod my head. "And what about you? Do you work tomorrow?" I ask and he gives me a shy smile before responding. "I had a shoot scheduled in the morning but we went ahead and pushed it to the afternoon so I don't have to worry about going home anytime soon" he says and my heart skips a beat.
"No, I mean, well I don't want to keep you for too long. You probably have other things you'd like to get done tonight?" I ask and he shakes his head. "No, this is the only thing I have planned for the night so I guess you're stuck with me" he chuckles. "I didn't mean to make you feel like I wanted you to leave I just-"
"It's okay I know what you meant" he laughs and I now take notice that we're the only ones left in the room. "Oh! Where did my dad go?" I ask, my eyes darting this way and that, not even being able to hear his voice.
"I think I heard something about them setting up the fire pit? I'm not sure but he's outside with my dad right now" he says and I spy both of them looking through the glass door before quickly ducking out of view once they realize they've been spotted.
"Maybe we should head out there" I say but he cuts off that thought by asking me a question that keeps me frozen on the spot. 
"Is there a reason why you don't want to be alone with me?" he asks, arm now having been draped around the back of the couch a while ago, completely unknown to me making this all seem a lot more intimate than before.
"Who said that?" I chuckle nervously, clearing my throat before sinking back into my seat. "You just did" he says, nodding towards me and I feel like I want to crawl in a hole and die. I thought I could escape this night without being awkward like this but I guess not.
"You trying to get rid of me?" he teases and I shake my head right away, "No I'm sorry I just-" "It's okay, I'm only joking" he says and I laugh nervously. "So why don't you tell me about yourself?" he says, giving me the most open ended question ever and I scramble to find something but I just can't seem to come up with anything interesting enough to mention.
"Well, my parents pretty much said everything there is to know about me over dinner earlier" I say and he shakes his head. "I want to hear something about you from you. Like what are some of your hope, your dreams, something you're passionate about" he says, being a little more specific this time.
"My dreams?" I trail off, thinking for a second and he watches me as I wrack my brain for something notable. "It's kind of silly" I admit once I've settled on something. "Good thing I've got a sense of humor" he replies, trying to encourage me to continue. 
"Well, I've always wanted one of my photos to be on the cover of TIME magazine" I admit and see his eyes light up. "I have a similar dream" he says and my eyes widen in surprise turning my body to face him, wordlessly asking him to share his too. 
"I'd like one of mine to end up on the cover of National Geographic" he relays and I smile in turn. "That would be perfect for you! Well, since the subject you love to capture the most is nature I could definitely see your work fitting right in!" I say, excited to see someone else who's trying to aim as high as I am.
"And I could see yours being a shoe in for TIME as well" he says, and I shy away from his praise. "Okay and what's something you're passionate about, and don't say photography" he says, interrupting me causing me to slump down, having to take another second to come up with an answer. 
He chuckles a bit at my reaction and I glare at him causing him to smile at me even more so look up to the celling as if it had the answers to something interesting about me. 
"Well, I really love reading. I know it might not seem like a passion but when I read a really good book and I find someone who has read it or will at least let me talk about it it's as if I gain a boost of energy and can't contain my excitement. That's definitely the nerdy side of me showing but that's all I can really think of at the moment" I say honestly and when I look back at him it's as if he thought I was the most fascinating thing he's ever seen. 
"Sorry, I think I got a little carried away there" I say, getting shy from being looked at like that, his soft gaze an expression I'm not used to, especially from someone I just met. "Um, your turn" I say, hoping to get some of the spotlight off of me. 
"I know this might be cheating but I do enjoy taking video and editing them. Even if it were as simple as filming Juni for an afternoon, it's something that if given the chance, would be something I could be extremely passionate about" he says and although it is cheating since it's somewhat similar to photography, I'll let it slide. 
"Have you thought about switching up your profession to include video as well as pictures?" I ask and he nods before answering. "I have but I haven't taken enough time to seriously consider it. Juni is still young and I want to make sure I have a stable income in order to take care of her and if I'm being honest I feel almost as if a career change could jeopardize that" he says and I watch him with the same intent that he had given me and he too seems to shy away from it. 
"It's silly since it would probably be a seamless transition but I can't help but feel reservations towards it" he says and I place my hand on top of his that's in his lap. 
"It's normal for a parent to worry about providing for their child. I don't think it's silly at all and it shows how much you truly care about Juni and her well being. She's lucky to have you as her father" I say and he cringes only for a moment before his expression goes back to a softer one. I want to ask what would've warranted a reaction like that but I leave it alone. 
"Okay your turn, what is something you hope for?" he asks and I already know the answer to it but I'm hesitant to say. I take a second to try and figure out how to formulate it properly but decide to just go for it. 
"I hope to be a mother and have children of my own someday. Doesn't matter if it's naturally or through adoption, I just hope to have someone I can love and care for unconditionally and watch them as they grow and change and pray I'll receive that love and care back from them" I say and he gives me a wary expression and I quickly try to backtrack, not knowing if I've messed up or not. 
"I'm sorry that was probably extremely insensitive of me" I say, pulling away my hand but he holds onto it and gives me a sad smile before responding. "I think you would be a wonderful mother. If you were to give your children even half the time and attention you've given to Juni today they would still be incredibly lucky to call you their mother" he says, reassuring me that it's okay to talk about these topics around him. 
"Last one?" I question, seeing if he's up to telling me something he's hopeful for. "I just hope that no matter what my family and friends stay happy and healthy. It might be simple but I enjoy the simple things in life" he says and I smile, seeing how truly kind and compassionate he is just from his simple answer. "That's a good answer" I say and we both chuckle a bit before we're broken out of yet again another moment by the sound of our mothers stumbling into the room. 
"Oh don't let us bother you we're just going to head outside with your father" Jungkook's mom says to him and I can see now from the warm glow shining through the glass door that they've finally started up the fire pit. 
"Oh we'll come outside too!" I say and try to get up off the loveseat. I'm able to stand but immediately lose my balance and feel a strong set of hands on my hips and end up falling into Jungkook's lap. "I-" I start, turning towards him and trying to get out an apology but stop short when I see how close his face is to mine, our noses almost touching. 
I hear our mothers head outside quickly and close the door but neither of us pay any mind, both focused on each other to the point where neither of us move for what feels like forever but was only a matter of seconds. When I do try to get up I feel his grip on me tighten. 
"I'm s-sorry, this couch is always difficult to get off of" I explain and he smiles. "Like I said before, you have nothing to apologize for" he says, his voice a bit deeper than before and it takes every fiber of my being to stop myself from looking at his lips but when I see his flutter down to mine I can't help but do the same. 
"Daddy, why is Ms. y/n sitting on your lap?" we hear Juni say and I immediately get off of him and throw my face in my hands, trying to hide the embarrassment written all over me but Jungkook handles it like a champ. 
"Ms. y/n just fell down Juni and I caught her. You know how I catch you sometimes before you fall?" he offers and she walks over to us, rubbing her eyes and immediately climbing onto Jungkook's lap. "Oh okay" she says, yawning again after Jungkook places a kiss on the crown of her head. 
"Do you wanna go see the fire that grandpa and Ms. y/n's dad made?" he asks and she hums in approval, still half asleep but wanting to go outside with everyone. "Okay let's go" he says, standing up with Juni in one arm and holding his hand out to help me up. I glare up at him and he smiles, knowing he's added to my embarrassment but I take his hand anyways and he makes no moves to let go once I'm up on my feet, walking us all towards the back door. 
Once we're outside though that's when he lets go so he can hold Juni properly while he walks down the patio steps so we can get to the fire pit. 
"Juni woke up?" his mother asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah she wanted to come outside with everyone even though she is still very very sleepy" he says, talking in a silly sweet voice that makes Juni pout although her eyes are still closed. "I'm not sleepy" she says mid yawn causing me to coo at her and when she realizes I'm still close by she sits up off of Jungkook's chest and reaches towards me. 
I look between her and Jungkook for a second and he nods his head in approval and hands her to me, grabbing a chair afterwards for me to sit on and pulling up another one next to mine and looks over at Juni to see she's practically sound asleep again. "Are you okay with her?" he asks and I hum in approval leaving him placing another kiss on Juni's head before leaning back in his chair. 
"So Jungkook, what do you think of my daughter?" my mother asks and Jungkook chokes on air, not expecting the straightforward question. "Mom!" I scold and she chuckles, "What? It's a simple question. No need to give a complex answer, unless he wants to" she teases and I swear I can even hear Jungkook's dad chuckling at my mother's antics. 
They couldn't make it more obvious that they're trying to set us up even if they tried. 
My dad luckily somewhat comes to Jungkook's aide and hands him a bottle of water to hopefully help him stop coughing which it does thankfully.
He takes a second to clear his throat and I would be lying if I said I wasn't on edge, waiting to hear what his answer might be. "I think she is a very kind hearted and very intelligent young woman" he says simply and the echos of him calling me beautiful earlier on tonight attach to the end of that. 
"And would you like to see her again?" she continues and he then looks over at me, giving me a soft smile and glancing down at Juni before looking me in the eyes again. "We've already planned to see each other again" he says, memories of Juni's invitation to the butterfly shopping trip fluttering through my mind again. 
"Did you hear that? Jungkook has already asked to see her again" my mom says, calling over to Jungkook's mom as if she hadn't been listening the whole time. "Well technically Juni asked if I could go shopping with them" I explain and Jungkook chuckles. "Juni is a very smart girl" my mother compliments and Jungkook and I can't help but laugh. 
The rest of the night flies by and before I know it we're already standing in the doorway saying goodbye. "It's was so nice seeing you again y/n! I hope to be seeing you again soon" Jungkook mom says, winking at me. "Oh come on honey leave the girl alone" Jungkook's dad says, coming to my aide and saying his goodbyes as well. 
Jungkook's parents say a quick goodbye to Jungkook and Juni as well since they came in separate cars and I notice after that my dad pulls Jungkook aside and says something that I regretfully can't make out. Luckily he doesn't seem bothered by it as they smile and shake hands before my dad pats him on the back, sending him off with I can only assume is well wishes. 
Jungkook says goodbye to my mother and I can tell how much she's praising him, he thanks her for everything and makes his way over to me a few moments later and it's almost as if it was a ghost town with only Jungkook and I in the entryway now, with him holding a still very sleepy Juni in his arms. 
"Thank you for coming, I know this was probably a lot for you" I say, rocking back and forth on my heels and he smiles before answering. "I had fun, and I know Juni did too" he says and I can feel my heart skip a beat, "I did too" I reply shyly. He reaches into his pocket and unlocks his phone before handing it to me.
"Do you think I could have your number? You know, so we can set up that shopping day soon? I know Juni won't be able to stop talking about it until we go" he says, turning into what I could only describe as a shy teenage boy, asking his crush for her number. "Sure" I say, putting it in and calling my number so I have his too. 
"Let me know when you get home safe" I say and place my hand on Juni's back and whisper a quick goodbye which regrettably stirs her awake and I mouth a quite sorry to Jungkook but he smiles in response. 
"Wanna say goodbye to Ms. y/n?" Jungkook asks and she nods her head before opening her eyes and leaning towards me to give me a kiss on the cheek leaving me speechless. "Goodnight pretty lady" she mumbles before laying back down on Jungkook's chest. He chuckles after seeing my reaction and gives Juni a kiss on her head in response. 
"Goodnight y/n" he whispers to me and I send him the same sentiment, walking him to the door and watching as he walks over to his car while he puts Juni in her carseat. He looks back to see if I'm still watching and smiles at me again before getting in his car and driving off. 
"So should I schedule an appointment with the caterers tomorrow or...?" I hear my mother say behind me, making me jump before taking a few steps back into the house and closing the door. "Very funny mom" I say, walking over to the living room and plopping down on the couch Jungkook and I had been sharing a couple hours ago. 
"What's wrong? He's a nice man isn't he? Plus his daughter seems like she loves you! Why don't you give it a shot?" she asks and I sigh, sinking further back into the couch. "I don't know, I just don't want to get my hopes up" I mumble and she sits next to me, placing a comforting hand on my thigh. "What makes you say that?" she asks curiously.
"It's almost as if he's too perfect. He's handsome, charming, charismatic, a great dad and I don't know, he just seems too good to be true" I admit and she nods her head, understanding my hesitation. "Everyone puts their best foot forward when they're meeting someone for the first time. Just go out with him and Juni in a few days and keep an open mind. It's not the fact that he has Juni that's holding you back right?" she questions, trying to figure out what exactly has got me doubting. 
"No not at all! If anything Juni is an added bonus" I say truthfully and she smiles at me. "Good, because I think she's already become very attached to you" she says and I nod my head. "Yeah I think I have too" I mumble and she claps her hands, jolting me out of my train of thought. 
"Now all we have to do is get a ring attached to that finger and the three of you can live happily ever after" she says, getting up to clean up the cake plates that sit on the coffee table in front of us. 
"Mom" I groan and she laughs, "I want some beautiful grandchildren and if that handsome young man can't help you give them to me then I don't know who could" she continues leaving me sighing, not bothering to argue back since she is definitely right about that one. 
I hear my phone chime in my purse moments later after I walk into my bedroom to gather up my things to go back home and see a message from an unknown number but check my call log and see that the numbers match up from when I called myself off Jungkook's phone. 
I quickly add him to my contacts before opening up our chat and see a short but sweet message from him. 
'Home safe and sound. Thanks for having us tonight. Hope to see you soon?' he sends with a question mark at the end, clearly still wanting to double check on if I'll actually want to see them again. I wait a few seconds, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard before finally composing a message and hitting send before I chicken out. 
'See you soon Jungkook. I really enjoyed getting to know you and Juni. Looking forward to shopping for butterflies together!' I say and cringe once I reread it. 'Ugh could I possibly sound more desperate?' I say to myself and toss my phone on the bed, sitting down at the computer chair across from it. 
A minute later I hear another message come in and I practically lunge for the phone, praying I didn't weird him out but moments later I feel heat rushing to my cheeks and have to will myself into not squealing.
'We're counting down the minutes until we can see you again. Let's talk tomorrow and set up a date and time'  he says and I rush to respond. 
'Sounds great! Goodnight Jungkook'  I say, ending the conversation before I end up embarrassing myself even more but before I can even lock my phone his message pops up. 
'Goodnight y/n, sweet dreams' the message is so simple but it still makes me smile. 
"Is that Jungkook texting you?" my mom asks, poking her head into the room and I quickly lock my phone and grab my purse. "Yes it is, goodnight mom" I say, walking past her and straight to the front door with her trailing after me. "Oh come on sweetie you know I'm just teasing you. I really think he's going to be a good match for you" she says and I turn to face her before I leave. 
"I really hope so. Say goodnight to dad for me" I say giving her a kiss on the cheek and getting in my car to drive home. 
~~~~
Once I walk in I'm greeted again by Salem and he walks up, waiting for me to pick him up. "You're such a little baby you know that?" I chuckle and he meows in response. 
I follow the same routine as I always do, carrying him with me into my room and rambling off to him about my day before hopping in the shower but this time I have a lot more to say, leaving me wasting half the hot water and causing me to have to finish up the last bit of my shower in a freezing cold stream. 
After finishing up and finally settling into bed I lay down and Salem curls up next to me. "Things might be changing around here boy. I only hope they're for the better, what do you think?" I ask after having told him everything and I'm met with the feeling of him purring and if that isn't a good sign then I don't know what is. 
"I hope he likes cats" I say, giving him one last pet before turning off the light and for the first time in a very long time I can finally say I've gone to sleep feeling content. The last thought that runs through my head is one that helps me fall asleep with a soft smile on my face. 
I can't wait to see him again...
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hannieehaee · 1 year ago
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18+ / mdi
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content: perv!wonwoo (not super pervy but i tried my best 🫡), smut, f reader, penetrative sex, established relationship (situatuonship is mentioned but idk lets assume they're exclusive just bc i can), he's kinda a dick, etc.
wc: 905
masterlist
streamer!wonwoo perv!wonwoo whose audience believes him to be a golden boy. simply a polite yet charming guy whos into video games, who just so happens to be insanely handsome. his thick rimmed glasses and wavy hair almost covering his eyes, accompanied by those wide shoulders, was able to catch the attention of all of those looking for a pretty face to look at while consuming content from their favorite video games (although many keep their eyes glued to the tiny view of wonwoo on the corner of the screen rather than the game itself).
the people watching him through the screen dont even see the half of it, though, not knowing how much of a perv he is when in real life. not so much a respectful and charming guy, but a degenerate who keeps up the act for appearances. after all, that is how he first got to you a few years back, when you, one of the few who had been a loyal viewer since before his channel blew up, decided that you just HAD to have the pretty nerd rambling about league of legends on stream.
after a few (okay, maybe more than a few) attempts at catching his attention through leaving various suggestive comments, wonwoo finally decided to take a look at your account, noting an instagram linked on your bio. after seeing that the desperate commentator he had taken a liking to seeing always punctual in his streams was a pretty girl in his area, his mind went straight to the gutter, finding his hands moving on their own to send you a message detailing his interest.
a few months later and you found yourself in a months-long situationship with the streamer, having him hit you up almost every other day when he needed 'something warm warm to stick his dick in', as he so nicely put it as he had you sitting on top of him, cockwarming him while he gamed (off-stream, of course).
having a such a well paying stay at home job had many perks, including the ability to take any day off he wanted to fuck you into his bed, somehow managing to never scare you away with his very obvious obsession with your body, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you with little to no regard for the exhaustion you'd feel after a few hours with him. somehow the roles had reversed, with him now being the one to continuously pursue you under the vice of getting under your pants every second he could.
"n-nonu fuck. slow down, i-" you whined as he senselessly bounced you up and down on his dick, rhythm completely lost a few rounds ago.
he practically growled at your complaint, "you asked for this when you showed up wearing that tiny excuse for a skirt while i was on stream."
"you asked me over-"
"for moral support, baby. not for you to parade yourself around me knowing i wouldnt be able to hold back from taking this pussy," he breathed out, angling you slightly differently, now causing you to whine even louder at your clit being stimulated by the friction.
"does your audience know how m- agh fuck. how much of a perv you are? leaving mid stream to get your dick wet?"
your brattiness causes him to disconnect your bodies, flipping yours over to put you on your hands and elbows and ramming himself into you with no warning.
"be thankful i'm fucking you of all people baby. be thankful this pussy has such a grip on me to get you on my bed every night," he sped up as he spoke filth into your ears.
wonwoo had a special way of making you feel like an object, something which you only enjoyed when it came to him. despite being such a fucking perv, you enjoyed the dynamic you had built, allowing him to play with your body however he saw fit as long as he made you cum. and jesus christ, did he.
"fuck," you felt the end coming near and began to push yourself back against him, grinding into him as much as you could despite his clammy hands having such a tight hold on your hips.
"im gonna make you cream all around me and then im gonna fill you up. okay, baby? then im gonna go back on stream while you keep my bed w- ah fuck. warm for me. if you're a good girl for me, i'll fuck you to sleep afterwards," he rasped out, losing his rhythm even further as he neared his own high.
a few more harsh thrusts later and you were creaming around him, tightening up so much that he, too, reached his peak, filling you up and letting go of your hips, causing you to fall flat against the mattress.
"fuck. baby, never show up like that here again. i almost died," he breathed out as he tried to do a decent job at cleaning you up a bit and tucking you under the covers.
despite his perverted treatment of your body, wonwoo was always sweet to you when his mind wasnt filled with sex (which admittedly wasnt often).
"you act as if i forced you to fuck me," you retaliate despite knowing you did wear that skirt with a specific purpose in mind.
"just shut up and go to sleep, baby. you'll need your energy back soon."
n/a: this is ass im rlly bad at writing men who r not obsessed with their s/o im sorry </33
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starlight-sev · 1 year ago
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Joy Looks Good on You (Snape x Artist!Reader)
Request: Snape with an artist reader- she makes gorgeous paintings, teaches an art class at Hogwarts (Bob Ross style, for reference). Doesn't have many students, but when he comes into her classroom its such a calming atmosphere. Maybe a short drabble about how he falls in love with her and her skill with paintings?
Requested by: anon
Warnings: none
A/N: this is more platonic than I had initially intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
Oh! Gender neutral reader as I always try my best to write 💕
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Hogwarts was home to many secrets, one of them being that the school offered painting classes as an elective for those in third year or higher.
Even you were shocked when you first heard about the job posting. You always figured art would be just a hobby of yours. When it came to jobs in the wizarding world, anything to do with art and painting was quite rare to find.
So when you were finally offered the job for art teacher at Hogwarts, to say you were overjoyed would have been an understatement. You never thought you’d be able to turn your love of painting into your career.
Dumbledore had placed you in the North Tower, just below Professor Trelawney’s Divination classroom. Compared to her room, yours was rather small: you only had to walk ten steps and you’d already be at the other side of the room. A handful of round tables with matching wooden chairs had been crammed into the tiny space. There was a small desk nestled in the corner for you to work, along with a shelf against the wall to store your paints and supplies.
Your favourite feature about the room, and perhaps one of its only redeeming qualities, was the large window in the middle of the wall. It was rounded at the top, with an ornate stained glass inlay that covered almost half the window. It was the source of your inspiration on sunny days.
It certainly wasn’t the nicest classroom, and sometimes a theory crossed your mind that your classroom had once been a generously-sized storage closet, but anything was better than being down in the dungeons of the castle.
You glanced up from your own painting to quickly sweep your eyes over the paintings your students were finishing up. You never had more than ten students a year, painting certainly wasn’t a common interest for wizards (much to your disappointment), but it didn’t matter. It gave you the opportunity to grow closer to your students, to get to know everyone’s individual art style. It made you all the more proud when you were able to see how much they progressed over the course of the year.
“Professor?”
You glanced over to see Luna Lovegood, one of your students with the biggest imaginations, waving politely to catch your attention.
“Yes?” You asked softly.
“We won’t have time to finish our paintings this class. I know we’re not supposed to, but since it’s Friday, could we leave our supplies out? We’ll be back first thing on Monday.”
A few other students murmured their agreement. You smiled apologetically, silently cursing that you had given them an assignment far bigger than they had time to complete.
“Of course. That’s fine.” You dismissed everyone with a wave of your hand. “Go on. Enjoy the weekend. And don’t worry about handing in your still life sketches this week, you’ve got enough on your hands with the landscape painting I assigned.”
A handful of cheers erupted among the students, and you smiled as each one nodded and murmured their thanks before leaving.
You stood up from your desk, walking across the room to collect everyone’s paintbrushes one by one.
“Letting your students go without cleaning up after themselves?” A deep voice murmured softly from the doorway. “I’m surprised Y/N, I thought you were more disciplined than that.”
It never failed to startle you, how Severus had this uncanny ability to sneak up silently on you. Usually you’d be able to hear students’ footsteps echoing as they made their way up the stairs to your classroom, but Severus seemed to be able to glide noiselessly around the castle like a ghost.
You set your paintbrushes in the small sink that rested in the corner of your room, smiling in acknowledgement and beckoning the professor to come in.
“It’s Friday,” you answered, grabbing a paintbrush and using your fingers to work the paint out of the bristles. “They’ve got enough going on, I figured I’d give them a bit of a break.”
You heard Severus scoff as he approached you from behind.
“You’re too easy on them.”
“And you’re too hard on your own students, but you don’t see me waltzing into your classroom to nag.”
That earned a soft chuckle from the professor as he stood beside you.
“You can use magic to clean those.” Severus observed, nodding toward your fingers as you worked the leftover paint out of the brush.
“I know I can,” you shrug, watching the water beneath the brush turn a bright turquoise. “But I prefer not to. Helps me clear my mind a bit.”
“Hm.” Was the small response you got in reply. To your surprise, Severus reached into the sink and grabbed a paintbrush, mimicking your movements as he began cleaning it.
“Oh,” you exclaimed softly. “It’s okay, I can do that-”
“Too late,” Severus retorted, casting a quick glance at you out of the corner of his eye. “I’ve already started.”
The two of you scrubbed brushes in silence, and you just barely caught Severus let out a small, tired sigh. As you placed your final brush to the side to dry, you glanced at him.
“Rough day today?”
You had to hold in your giggles as he answered your question with the biggest eye roll you’d ever seen.
“That’s putting it lightly,” he muttered.
“Come,” you beckoned as you sat down in one of the empty seats in the middle of the class. You nodded for Severus to join you as you crossed one leg over the other and leaned back in your seat. “Tell me about it. What happened? Was it Potter again?
You smirked at the eye roll Severus gave you in response before tiredly making his way over to the seat across from you.
“Someone’s been stealing supplies for a Polyjuice potion,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I have reasons to believe it’s Potter and his dunderhead friends.”
You bit back a smile, and raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think it’s him? Do you have evidence?”
“Trouble follows him wherever he goes, isn’t that evidence enough?”
You had trouble holding in a giggle, and Severus glared at you.
“He’s brewed Polyjuice potion before.” Severus continued. “It’s the only thing he can actually do well. And those specific ingredients keep going missing.”
You frown a little and shook your head.
“Really, Severus. I don’t know what you have against that boy, but you’ve got to give him a break,” you encouraged gently. “He’s got enough on his shoulders right now, with the Triwizard Tournament going on.”
“And what if he is stealing from my supplies?” Severus retorted.
“What if he isn’t?” You challenged calmly. Severus sighed again, shaking his head as he gazed at you.
“Should we place bets on whether it’s Potter who’s stealing from you?” You asked jokingly, leaning forward in your seat with a smirk. Severus pressed his lips together in a thin line.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because every damned time we make a bet, you win.”
You snickered at Severus’ remark, before standing up from your seat and placing your hand reassuringly on the professor’s shoulder. He looked up at you with dark eyes that warmed very slightly at your touch.
“I truly do not know how you always manage to see the good in people.” He murmured, sighing tiredly. You squeezed his shoulder lightly.
“I just… see the good in everything I guess.” You shrugged. “Even things that seem terrible can be beautiful, if they’re in the right lighting.”
Severus let out a little snort at your comment, shaking his head.
“C’mon grumpypants,” you teased lightly, patting your friend on the back. “I know what’ll cheer you up.”
You walked over to your desk and opened the far left drawer. Upon hearing the dull scrape of wood as the drawer pulled open, Severus looked over at you with the tiniest smile.
“Have you added any teas to your collection?” He asked. He kept a somewhat level expression, but you couldn’t help but grin at the hint of a hopeful tone in his voice.
“I went to Hogsmeade last weekend and got a few more. Some just for you. Come over here and pick one, I’ll put the kettle on.”
Severus stood up just as you moved to the corner of the room to fill the kettle. You noticed out of the corner of your eye how shadow-like he was: the way his cloak billowed slightly as he almost seemed to glide over to your desk.
You heard a few papers rustle as you filled the kettle, and that’s when your heart stopped.
Oh no, oh god no.
You forgot to move your sketchbook, bloody hell.
Maybe Severus was looking at something else, you thought to yourself. Maybe you misheard and he was only rifling through your tea stash-
“Is this… me?”
Nope. He found it. Shit.
You set the kettle down slowly, your hands trembling as you felt a rush of heat fly up to your cheeks.
“S-Sorry?”
You kept your eyes glued to the teacups on the small wooden countertop, trying your best not to cringe as you continued to hear pages being flipped over gently.
“Y/N…” Severus murmured. “You drew these?”
You chewed your lip, just about ready to sink through the floorboards at this point.
“Y-yes.” Your voice came out as a small squeak, barely even intelligible.
You squeezed your eyes shut as you heard gentle footsteps approach you from behind.
“Turn around,” Severus encouraged softly. Clenching your jaw, you tried to ignore the burning heat in your cheeks as you shuffled around to face Severus.
His dark eyes were swirling with so many emotions, you genuinely couldn’t tell what he was thinking. It terrified you. You looked down, and saw that he was holding one of your sketches in his hand.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I don’t show those to anyone, they’re just for me to practice with…”
“This is how you see me?”
You heard Severus‘ voice catch in his throat, and you looked up to see his features had softened into a gentle and almost sad expression. You lowered your gaze to his hands again, taking a closer look at the sketch he brought over.
It was from the Yule Ball a few months ago. You had sketched Severus during dinner after you saw him throw his head back in a hearty laugh, thanks to a dirty joke Professor Sprout had casually dropped at the staff table that night. You couldn’t remember the joke for the life of you, but you’d never forget the way Severus’ eyes lit up with a rare joy few ever saw. Nor would you forget the way his hair curled that night, perfectly framing his face and making him look almost angelic.
“Joy looks good on you.” You explained in the tiniest whisper, pressing your lips together nervously. “I… that was one of my first times seeing you laugh, and I just…”
You trailed off, silently cursing the fact that your face was still as red as ever. Finally, to your relief, Severus set your sketch down. But when you looked up at him, you noticed his eyes were glassy.
Was he… crying?
“Oh.” You gasp softly. “Oh no, I’m sorry. It’s a terrible drawing, I know-”
Severus shook his head. “Stop bloody apologizing. It’s beautiful. All your sketches are. I had no idea.”
“Well, you weren’t supposed to find out.” You muttered, laughing your nerves out softly. Your heart nearly stopped as Severus reached out, gently cradling your hands in his.
“Thank you.” He murmured quietly. “For… what you said.”
You frowned. “What did I say?”
“About… seeing the joy in me,” he replied. “That’s perhaps the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Your heart sank as you took in Severus’ words. You looked up, your soft eyes meeting his dark ones.
“It’s true.” You said simply. “It doesn’t take an expert to see you’ve been through some real shit, Sev. You deserve to be happy.”
Severus froze at your words, unsure of what to do or how to react. Then, to your surprise, he took one more step forward and closed the distance between the two of you. He wrapped his arms around you, and you nearly gasped at how tightly he held you to him. You returned his embrace without hesitation, finally calming after the initial scare of Severus finding your sketches. He was warm. You could get used to this feeling.
“Thank you, Y/N.” You heard Severus whisper.
“For what?” You asked back just as softly.
“Showing me how you see the world. How you see… me.”
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rubysunnday · 2 years ago
Text
wanting was enough
requested by @omgbrcat: If you're willing to write for Nikolai, I'm ready to read.
a/n: they asked for fluffy... this is not fluffy like at all and for that i am sorry (i promise to write nik fluff to make up for it) ty ryn for your help
summary: Y/N has loved Nikolai since the day she met him. But now, as the blood begins to run, she has to come to terms with the fact that he'll never be hers.
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The room was filled with people she knew, yet Y/N had never felt more alone or more broken.
Nikolai and Alina were engaged and Y/N found herself grieving for something she'd never had. It was an odd thing to feel a part of a group whilst also feeling a million miles away from everyone and everything.
She'd loved Nikolai since the day they'd met in the middle of Kerch, surrounded by people who wanted them dead. From there, friendship had been easy and when she'd sheepishly revealed her Grisha abilities to him - he'd enlisted Tamar and Tolya to teach her how to use them and control them.
Yet, despite the practice, her heartrender talents were still weak and, in Y/N's mind, pathetic. She understood that years of neglect and no practice would do that to someone, but it didn't help. Her confidence was non-existent and when she was surrounded by far more talented Grisha and a living Saint such as Alina, Y/N felt tiny.
Seeing Nikolai and Alina holding hands stung more than it should have. She was used to Nikolai being affectionate with people - affection was how he showed his love. But this was different. Y/N had hardly seen him since they'd gotten back to the palace and something had clearly changed between them.
Either that or it was all in Y/N's mind. She was spending a lot of time inside her head at the minute, doubting herself, doubting her abilities and her place in Nikolai's crew.
She could hear Nikolai's heartbeat from across the room - it's sound familiar and comforting to her in a way it shouldn't have been. Not anymore.
He wasn't hers and never could be hers.
She wasn't sure when friendship had turned to wanting and longing but it had. And she was trying her best to deal with it. To accept that he would never be hers.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Y/N turned and tried not to look startled at Nikolai's sudden appearance by her side. She hadn't even registered him walking over to her. Nikolai grinned crookedly at her and Y/N felt her heart swoop and glide like a bird in the breeze.
"Just wondering what your mother's definition of a big party is when this is a small one," Y/N replied, picking up a glass from a nearby tray and drinking its contents in one swoop.
Nikolai laughed, readjusting his weight from one foot to the other, his right shoulder brushing against Y/N's left. "She likes a party, what can I say. Anything under sixty people and it's intimate."
"I don't even know sixty people," Y/N replied. "I don't think I even know ten."
"It's never about the quantity of friends, it's about the quality," Nikolai replied. "A small, close friend group is better than a distant large one." He nudged her arm with his elbow. "I considered you one of my close friends."
Y/N forced herself to grin at him and tried to ignore how much the words stung at her heart. "Oh," she pointed over at Vasily as he stood up on the dais next to his father, "I think your brother is about to make a speech. You should probably go stand next to your mother and pretend to be interested."
Getting Nikolai to laugh was easy for Y/N, but even though she'd done it many times before, the sound still sent fire coursing through her veins. It wasn't the guarded laugh of a privateer. Or the forced laughter of a prince. It was just Nikolai's laugh.
"I'll be back," he warned, pointing a finger at her. "We need to discuss what you mean by pretending - I always find my brother fascinating."
"Of course you do." Y/N nodded. "I believe that, one hundred percent."
She watched as Nikolai disappeared into the crowd, appearing at his mother's side, ever the doting son. Y/N was impressed with herself that she'd managed to avoid bringing up the engagement. She hadn't had a chance to even mention it to Nikolai - it didn't seem appropriate. But she needed to know if it was genuine or just for show. She need to know for her own mind. How else would she ever be able to move on and accept she was stuck wanting for forever.
Vasily's speech started and Y/N zoned out entirely. He was a weasel of a human and represented everything wrong with Ravka in so many ways. He never had anything interesting or important to say.
It was only because she wasn't listening to Vasily that Y/N noticed the room gradually getting darker. The sun seemingly disappearing and then reappearing only to disappear once again.
She tilted her head back and, as she did so, two shapeless shadows smashed through the glass of the skylight, slamming into the ground and taking two of the first army guards out with them. One of the shadows grabbed Vasily and, in a blink of an eye, ripped him apart.
The screaming started instantly. Y/N's eyes focused on the shadows and she realised with cold horror that they were Kirigan's Nichevo'ya. At once, she began looking for Alina, who was safely on the other side of the room with Tamar and Adrik.
The Nichevo'ya shot towards her and Y/N dodged out the way, turning and running away - because what else could she do? They had no heartbeats and, even if they did, she wouldn't be able to take them down. She wasn't strong enough.
"Y/N!"
Nikolai snatched her hand and pulled her to his side as a table flew across the room, a body following in its path. Y/N gripped Nikolai's jacket for a moment before she let go and forced herself to take a step back, to create space between them.
"Down to the tunnels!" Nikolai yelled, raising his voice to be heard over the screaming. He began to move backwards, his hand still on Y/N's arm. "Regroup there!"
As Adrik and Nadia distracted the Nichevo'ya as best they could, the small party that had gathered behind Nikolai began to follow their now king and had down to the tunnels beneath the palace.
Y/N brought up the rear of the group, keeping one eye over her shoulder incase the Nichevo'ya decided to follow after them. But they seemed content to feast on those left behind in the ballroom.
She was so focused on making sure the Nichevo'ya weren't following, that Y/N didn't even notice cracks in the walls beginning to form and then splinter up and around.
Only when she saw the first piece of wall fall did she even realise what was happening. She turned around and there was no one behind her - they'd all made it through to the tunnels, including Nikolai, leaving her alone out in the corridor.
For a moment, she wondered if anyone would miss her if she disappeared.
Another piece of wall fell and, as it did, a Nichevo'ya began to appear from around a corner, it's shape constantly changing as the shadows withered and curled.
Y/N brought her hands together, searching for a heartbeat to control, but there was none. Of course there wasn't. They were made of nothing.
The cracks had reached the ceiling and more rubble fell down, smashing against the floor all around her. A particularly large piece fell away and Y/N threw herself back, barely avoiding its impact as she scrabbled across the tiled floor, trying to get to the tunnel entrance.
Her body wasn't cooperating, fear of the Nichevo'ya striking through her and rendering her almost useless. She tried not to look up at the skull like face forming in the shadows, but it was impossible to look away as it loomed over her. Almost as if she'd been hypnotised by them.
"Y/N!"
Hands came around her waist and they yanked her up and onto her feet. The roof was falling down around them now, large chunks of stone smashing into pieces on the tiles, the small bits flying back up into the air. Y/N felt something whizz past her cheek, leaving a stinging line behind.
Everything was a blur. As the rest of the ceiling came away, the Nichevo'ya launched forward, its tendrils snaking towards Y/N. They sliced down her arm and, as they made contact, Y/N brought her left hand to her right and felt something within the mass of black.
Focusing on that and that alone, Y/N forced it to slow down, to stop. Sensing danger, the tendrils came away, retreating back into the shadows. As they did, the ceiling gave way. Whoever had grabbed her from behind pushed her into the tunnels and then darkness obscured her vision.
"Y/N, look at me."
Hands rested on both her cheeks. A thumb stroked up and down her cheek bone. As her eyes began to adjust to the dark light of the tunnels, and the panic and fear began to fade, Nikolai came into view, his eyes full of concern.
"You good?" He asked softly, his eyes darting to her arm for a moment before coming back to her face.
"Sorry," Y/N said, blinking furiously. "I froze. I didn't mean to, I should've -"
"Hey, there's plenty of things we all should have done," Nikolai said gently, his thumb pressing lightly against her skin as he moved it up and down. "The Nichevo'ya do weird things to people. But we're safe, we made it into the tunnels."
Nikolai's words did little to reassure her. Instead, they made Y/N panic even more. She moved back from him and got to her feet, leaving Nikolai crouched in front of an empty space.
"You need to go see what's going on," Y/N said, putting more distance between them. "You are the king now."
A hundred different emotions filtered across Nikolai's face. His eyes seemed to grow slightly harder and his back straightened. As he went to speak, a guard appeared at his side and began to lead him away and down into the tunnels, leaving Y/N alone once more.
Y/N took a deep breath in and swore softly as she felt her arm burning and stinging for the first time. She looked down and saw a gash running from her shoulder down to her elbow.
Y/N winced as she tentatively pulled back the fabric from her arm, trying to see it better. The edges were bright red and blood was running down and to her wrist, dripping off her fingers.
She didn't feel fine but, for now, she pushed her pain and exhaustion aside, pushing herself off the wall she'd come to lean on.
The tunnels were organised chaos. Bodies lay against the walls, covered with blankets, flags, sacks - whatever people could find. Y/N walked, rather stumbled, down them, searching for her friends, hoping they were still alive and in one piece.
It wasn't long before she found them. Adrik was groaning in pain, swearing as quietly as he could as David examined his arm, his hands gently pulling away the shredded fabric from the gaping wounds on his arm and hand.
Y/N picked up her pace and rushed over to them, kneeling down beside David. "What happened?"
"Fucking Nichevo'ya," Adrik panted. He groaned, closing his eyes tightly as David pressed on the skin around the wound.
"Y/N," Nadia said, her arms around her brother, "can you do anything?"
"I'm not a healer," Y/N warned, her hand gently replacing David's as she took Adrik's arm.
"I don't care," Adrik said, groaning. "Just do something."
Y/N nodded. She took a deep breath in, trying to ignore the throbbing in her own arm. Her hands shook slightly.
David put a hand on her uninjured shoulder and squeezed it gently. "You can do it," he said quietly.
Y/N focused on Adrik's arm, on the skin and the blood thrumming through his veins and spilling out onto the floor. She could feel her energy seeping out through her body as she worked on Adrik's arm, trying to slow the bleeding and heal what she could.
As she did, she felt the pain in her arm gradually growing. It was hard to tell if the room was tilted or if she herself was tilting.
"Y/N," Tamar said softly. Y/N wasn't sure when she'd appeared. "Your arm."
"It's fine," Y/N said. She took a deep breath in as the pain got worse, her arm throbbing and burning.
Then, suddenly, it wasn't fine. Y/N felt the all to familiar feeling of nausea building up in her throat, her heart beat increased as her body ran out of energy.
Y/N swayed and she fell sideways and into David, the Durast doing his best to catch her.
Tamar was instantly at her side, her hand gripping Y/N's tightly. She pressed her fingers to her pulse point and Y/N felt the all too familiar feeling of someone else controlling her heartbeat.
"Adrik," Y/N muttered, slumping further back into David's chest, his arms wrapping around her.
"Nadia's got him," Tamar said, reaching her spare hand out to stroke Y/N's cheek. "You should've said something. Your arm is not fine."
Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the tears burning. She didn't know if they were from the pain or because of how useless she felt. "I'm fine," Y/N said, trying to sit up.
Both David and Tamar pushed her back down - neither one having to use much force at all.
"Nikolai!"
Y/N felt panic rise within her as Tamar summoned the now king over to them. Tamar glanced down at her, her eyebrows raised slightly, and Y/N realised her heart had also sped up.
Fucking heartrenders.
"What's wrong?" Nikolai asked, walking over to them.
He didn't see Y/N until he moved around David and saw her lying against him, blood pooling on the floor from the wound on her arm, Tamar's hand still on her wrist.
"Y/N, saints," Nikolai said, instantly dropping to his knees beside her.
Y/N vaguely realised that he'd shed his blazer and rolled his shirt sleeves up. His hands hovered over her arm, shaking every so slightly.
"She's losing too much blood," Tamar said quietly, trying her best to not alarm Y/N, who was gradually getting paler.
Nikolai nodded. "There's a healer down the tunnel with the courtiers."
Tamar, sensing Nikolai's hesitation, let go of Y/N's hand and stood up. "I'll go get them. See if you can find a bed or somewhere to lay her down."
Y/N didn't realise Nikolai had moved closer to her and slipped his arms around her back and under her legs until he lifted her up into his arms, adjusting his shoulder so that her head came to rest against it.
"David, stay with Adrik and Nadia," Nikolai said, taking a step back. "Tamar will be back soon."
Y/N was in too much pain to even try to fight Nikolai as he carried her through the tunnels. Through her half closed eyes, she could see the stares coming their way - the judgement and disgust all aimed at her.
But she didn't care. Because Nikolai was holding her close and, for a moment, she felt as if everything was ok. Nikolai was hers and only hers.
Everything faded away, leaving her floating around, relishing each touch, each way Nikolai's bare arms brushed against her.
"Y/N!"
She jumped slightly, her eyes slowly opening, taking their time to focus. Nikolai was knelt beside her, his hands cradling hers. Y/N realised that he was no longer carrying her and that she was lying down in a quieter part of the tunnels.
As her eyes focused, she noticed that Nikolai's eyes were red, his skin starting to go blotchy. Y/N moved her head slightly and saw Tamar kneeling behind her, one hand on her chest, the other on Nikolai's arm.
"Your heart stopped," Nikolai said quietly, when he noticed her confused gaze. "You went still and I..." Nikolai's voice cracked and he trailed off.
Tamar squeezed his arm as she stood up, leaving the two alone. The healer, who Y/N had only just noticed, also gave them some privacy, moving on to his next patient. Y/N glanced down at her arm and saw that it had stopped bleeding, the edges of the wound closer than they had been.
"I'm sorry," Y/N whispered, not sure what to say to Nikolai.
Nikolai raised his head, his eyes shining with tears. "Whatever for?"
Y/N didn't know. "I -"
"This is not your fault," Nikolai said, somehow moving closer. "None of this is."
One hand let go of hers, moving up to the side of her head. He began to brush back her hair with the pad of his thumb, the movement repetitive and calming enough it almost sent Y/N to sleep.
"Is Adrik ok?" Y/N asked, the memory of his ruined arm coming back at her with force.
Nikolai hesitated for a second. "He lost the arm," he said gently. "But he's alive, because of you."
"I could've done more," Y/N protested, tears leaking out the corners of her eyes. "If I'd been stronger or better -"
"The outcome would not have changed," Nikolai insisted, his thumb wiping away her tears. "Even the healer couldn't do anything more. What you did do, saved his life, Y/N."
Y/N nodded once, more tears spilling onto her cheeks. "Is this not improper?" She asked as Nikolai reached over to her other cheek, wiping the tears away again.
"What?" He asked, staring at her in disbelief.
"You're engaged," she said, her voice breaking on the last word as a sob broke through.
It took a second but understanding dawned on Nikolai's face and he let out a heavy breath, tinged with sadness.
"Oh, Y/N," he whispered. "You could've -"
"I couldn't, Nik," she said hoarsely. "I had to presume that it was just me - you had your eyes set on every other woman about and I -"
"No, stop that right now," Nikolai said, leaning close. "I... I have loved you since the moment I met you. I just assumed you loved Sturmhond, not Nikolai."
"I love you," Y/N said, her voice strong. "I love whoever you chose to be. Whether it's prince or pirate -"
"Privateer."
" - king or pauper," Y/N finished, her voice quiet as whatever energy had come disappeared. "I love whoever you chose to be. I just love you, Nikolai."
Nikolai nodded, tears running down his cheeks. He leant forward, resting his head against Y/N's chest and her fingers began to running through his hair and down to the nape of his neck.
She knew he was listening to her heart beating. She was doing exactly the same. The sound familiar and comforting for all the right reasons.
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wingedblooms · 9 months ago
Note
How do you interpret "A thing of secret, lovely beauty" in the bonus chapter? The first time azriel used it to describe the necklace. But the second time it was used to describe gwyn's happy smile.
Hello there! I feel like this is a trap. But as I’ve discussed before, readers interpret this differently and that’s wonderful. Interpretations can also evolve over time after rereads and new information. Mine has mostly remained the same (except for some specifics surrounding the second usage 😆). Part of my interpretation drifts into theory. As a reminder, theories are predictions of what might happen based on patterns of evidence in the text. No theory is guaranteed and it’s important to read any new books in the series with that in mind.
That said, Sarah is a fairly predictable and repetitive writer, so I try to pay close attention to her patterns. Many of my theories are based upon those patterns. For example, one of the most apparent patterns is that fate comes in threes. There are three faces of the Mother. Three sacred sister peaks that are barren and thrumming with power. Three stars that shine above Ramiel, the heart of the Night Court, each spring. Three blessed sisters who have been marked by fate and Made fae. Three winged males who found each other and are drawn to the three blessed sisters. There’s more evidence, but I think you get the idea. It can be helpful to use patterns to interpret and predict what Sarah has planned (e.g., the first and second sister have had their stories told, so it would follow that the third is next; there is also strong evidence that what she contributes to the narrative is needed next).
You’re probably wondering how this relates to my interpretation of the phrase secret, lovely beauty. Before I connect it to another clear pattern, I want to put it in proper context. When we first see the phrase, it is used to describe the necklace Azriel gifts to Elain. The setting in which this occurs is romantic: faelights dimming to cast little pools of gold amid the deep shadow of the longest night of the year. Put plainly, this is Sarah setting the mood. 😂 Azriel, who feels lonely despite the company of his shadows, finds himself suddenly moving into the foyer and there she is:
The Faelights gilded Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn.
On the longest night of the year, Elain glows golden like the sun at dawn. Like a pool of gold amid the deep shadow. This description follows a pattern in their imagery together, and it is lovely.
Their interaction is also raw and vulnerable, and therefore distinct in this bonus. When they come together, Azriel allows himself to feel and those feelings run deep enough to question his people’s traditions later on. Unlike every other interaction in this bonus, he doesn’t feel the need to put on a show for Elain (i.e., a cold mask, fake smile, or lying repeatedly to avoid emotional topics). In other words, he is himself with Elain. They share a quiet understanding and powerful attraction.
Now that we have this context in mind, we can move onto the the necklace and its chaos-inducing phrase:
The golden necklace seemed ordinary—its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny enough that it could be dismissed as an everyday charm. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of colors would become visible.
A thing of secret, lovely beauty.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?”
Notice something interesting here? Both Elain and the necklace glow with their true depth of color—golden and rosy, like the dawn—when faelight shines upon them. Dawn is when first light appears (pun definitely intended) and the world reawakens. Elain is linked to the rose amulet, and that follows a pattern of imagery she has already established in the text. This is the pattern I mean:
“I painted flowers for Elain on her drawer,” I said, sawing and sawing. “Little roses and begonias and irises.” (acomaf)
She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses. (acowar)
Even in the middle of winter, she was a bloom of color and sunshine. (acofas)
She plucked another figurine from the mantel: a rose carved from a dark sort of wood. She held it in her palm, its solid weight surprising, and traced a finger over one of the petals. “He made this one for Elain. Since it was winter and she missed the flowers.” (acosf)
Her gaze shifted to the carved wooden rose she’d placed upon the mantel, half-hidden in the shadows beside a figurine of a supple-bodied female, her upraised arms clasping a full moon between them. Some sort of primal goddess—perhaps even the Mother herself. Nesta hadn’t let herself dwell on why she’d felt the need to set the rose there. Why she hadn’t just thrown it in a drawer. (acosf)
This gift not only reinforces the pattern, but it also holds a secret message that has become central to Elain’s arc: the rose (like Elain) has hidden depths. The Feysand bonus echoes this theme. Elain’s outburst stunned her family and Rhys suggests there is more to her than they’ve seen thus far.
“I think she’s kind, and I’ll take kindness over nastiness any day. But I also think we haven’t yet seen all she has to offer.” A corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Don’t forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one’s hands dirty along the way.” (Feysand)
Feysand then agree to help Elain after Nesta, which is Sarah’s way of reinforcing the other pattern she put in place (fate comes in threes—first Feyre, then Nesta, and now Elain).
With Elain’s character arc in mind (and the fact that she herself has suggested she doesn’t feel seen), Azriel’s gift is actually incredibly insightful. He gave her something that says, I do see you, and he knew she’d be able to appreciate its meaning. Even the words that describe her gift—secret, lovely beauty—refer to specific things we learn about Elain in the text.
Secret: Feyre compares Elain’s ability to learn and keep secrets to Azriel’s own secrecy (one of many parallels). She is a seer, after all. What other secrets might she know and keep hidden from others?
Before Feyre could reply, Azriel said, “What about Mor?”
Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.” (acosf)
Lovely beauty: We learn from Nesta that their mother predicted Elain would marry for love and beauty, which I think @juusworld5728 observed sounds a lot like lovely beauty:
My Nesta. Elain shall wed for love and beauty, but you, my cunning little queen…You shall wed for conquest. (acosf)
This last phrase, love and beauty, is connected to the rose Papa Archeron carved for Elain. It is a symbol of love and beauty and goodness in the world, and for such a simple carving, it has unexpected weight just like the rose amulet has unexpected depth (Sarah hit this theme hard).
Her father had died for her, with love in his heart, and Nesta held love in her own heart as she pulled the small, carved rose from her pocket and set it upon the gravestone. A permanent marker of the beauty and good he’d tried to bring into the world. (acosf)
Why does this little rose matter? It is also linked to Wyrd. In acosf, Nesta felt the need to place Elain’s rose next to a figurine of what we now know is farseeing and benevolent Wyrd. Wyrd, the higher force of the universe, found Elain so lovely that she gifted her such powers and purrs like a kitten in her presence. They even share the same blooming imagery. Over time, Wyrd became known as a goddess (probably because she uses female forms as vessels, if I had to guess based on the evidence), but she is in fact a force, a mother to all, a cauldron brimming with creation. Now, where have we heard those terms before?
Gwyn huffed a soft laugh. “In part. We honor the Mother, and the Cauldron, and the Forces That Be. We have a service at dawn and at dusk, and on every holy day.” (acosf)
Gwyn’s words nearly echo the Under-King’s in hosab and hofas. The priestesses worship Wyrd. Let’s look at the description of their worship:
The music was pure, ancient, by turns whispering and bold, one moment like a tendril of mist, the next like a gilded ray of light. It finished, and Merrill spoke about the Mother and the Cauldron and the land and sun and water. She spoke of blessings and dreams and hope. Of mercy and love and growth. (acosf)
Elain’s strength lies in finding beauty even in dark chapters. She is a rose bloom in a mud field—the embodiment of blessings and dreams and hope and mercy and love and growth. The priestesses, including Gwyn, honor that benevolent force and seek to bring it into the world with their services. They are the voice of the Cauldron. And in this world, we know like calls to like. Now that we’ve read hofas, it’s highly likely that the ancient, spell-like music the priestesses perform is ancient summoning magic, which is magnified by the properties of the cavern (ahem, witch glass) in which they sing. So, is it a surprise that Azriel had every intention to return Elain’s rose amulet, a symbol of love and beauty, and found himself at the library during their worship of such things instead? No, it actually makes a lot of sense.
Azriel expressed no forethought in giving the necklace to Clotho for Gwyn. He did not select it for her and did not intend it to be a romantic gesture, which is why he tells Clotho to give it to Gwyn or any other priestess who might appreciate it. The setting and interactions in this part of the bonus are not described romantically because they are not intended to be romantic.
Clotho, who is observant like Elain, can see the shadowsinger’s sadness despite his deflection and offers him comfort in a dark moment:
Clotho’s pen moved once more. She deserves something as beautiful as this. I thank you for the joy it shall bring to her.
Her words spark hope in him and for whatever reason, he is able to picture Gwyn’s eyes lighting upon the rose amulet in his mind. The vision is a thing of secret, lovely beauty.
Some interpret this moment, a vision of Gwyn described as a thing of secret, lovely beauty, as an indication of Sarah shifting romantic pairings. I think this interpretation falls short of the full context, especially since days (in acosf) and months later (in hofas), Azriel is still upset and refuses to even discuss the topic of mates.
Rather, I think that—like the sister caverns, which are linked in song and dreaming—Elain and the priestesses (especially Gwyn) are also connected. They are part of the solution to the problem that was introduced in the first half of this bonus as well as the overarching plot. Like @silverdreamscapes, @silverlinedeyes, @offtorivendell, @willowmeres, and others I’m sure, I believe Elain—a seer chosen by Wyrd—will work with the priestesses that worship her (the most logical partnership in the series, when you think about their respective powers). It wouldn’t surprise me if a dawn service, especially if it involves groundings, helps Elain push the limitations of her powers like the dusk service did for Nesta.
I also agree with many (notably @silverlinedeyes and @merymoonbeam) who think Gwyn’s voice holds magic and, depending on what we learn, relates to being a lightsinger. That is likely the hidden depth (a thing of secret, lovely beauty) that was hinted at in the image since her eyes light upon Elain’s rose amulet. I believe @silverdreamscapes and @silverlinedeyes have suggested her voice, which summons and pierces during the dusk service, could clear mist and shadow in a vision if needed. I also think it is interesting that Gwyn is the first to sever the Valkyrie ribbon, a string tied not to a rib, but a post. Perhaps she and the priestesses could help Elain sever an unwanted bond and weave a different fate for herself, one that binds her to someone she loves? That would be the most epic end to the near-constant arguments over ships.
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starlightsearches · 1 month ago
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Eyes on Me Ch. 4
Masterlist
Modern Armitage Hux x F! Reader Warnings: RC is a sex-worker, discussions of sex, language.
AN: Woah!!! Can't believe this fic is back from the dead. I got a comment on Tumblr for the last chapter a few days ago and remembered I had THIS chapter started. I don't have plans for future updates, but if there's any interest that could change!
Warnings: 18+ only, sex work, piv sex, semi-public sex, jealousy, mentions of child abuse and scars from said child abuse, brendol hux makes a teeny tiny cameo, ren is there, some angst at the beginning, kind of choking but not really, forced quiet sex, language, and I think that's it!!
The tires of the black car glide silently over smooth-as-silk streets, moonlight streaming through the dark tinted windows and pooling in the space between your body and his.
Armitage doesn’t speak, eyes tracking the journey out his own window, hands rubbing absentmindedly over his thighs. You can’t blame him for his nerves—you’re feeling them, too, the sleeves of your coat collecting the sweat off your clammy palms.
Silly. You’ve done this a thousand times. 
“You’re sure no one will recognize you?” Armitage asks the window, his breath creating little circles of fog on the glass.
You hum in assent, although looking over the guest list had been a cursory act. Even if you had already fucked every man at the party somehow, none of them would spare you half a glance.
You frown, the fountain of bitterness that wells inside you bubbling again. It’s an old memory, but a harsh one, and it still stings—despite the years between you and the moment of rejection. 
You had been so much younger then, and more than a little foolish. Your client was older, and handsome, and so romantic you’d have sworn that the feelings he had for you were real. 
You still remember the way it felt, that little flash of light in your chest when you caught a glance of him at some overpriced hotel bar years after things had ended, your heartbeat in your throat. You squared your shoulders, feigning indifference as you brushed by. There was that pleasant spark when your arm nudged his own, and you could see your reflection in the depths of his eyes, feeling so beautiful now, graced again by the weight of his attention. He looked at you, and you smiled, ready for the recognition to come, ready for him to want you like he had so many times before.
And then he looked away. The moment shattered. He hadn’t recognized you at all.
Armitage stares into the black night, and you stare at him, a fracture in your heart. Would he be the same? Would there be a time, years from now, when you’d find him with someone else on his arm and no recollection of you? Would he take what he could get from you—confidence, jealousy from other men who looked your way, a good fuck—and then find someone else to give himself to, wholly and without pretense?
Imagining those years passing by, watching yourself grow a little older, a little less desirable to these men who fed their addiction on young girls . . . left alone.
Your eyes snap shut, firm, breathing rhythmically, stopping any tears before they could even appear. It’s not in your best interest to think that way. Not when your income depends on your charm. 
You reach for Armitage, pressing a hand against his arm, stroking gently over the fine material of his suit jacket.
“Everything will be fine,” you promise him, and it’s a promise to yourself, as well. You will keep him happy, and attached, for as long as you can manage. 
Armitage nods, and—to your surprise—seems to relax a little, shifting in his seat to face you, no longer shocked by or shying away from your touch. 
It’s a good thing, but the same old fear spears through your heart. How soon before he was bored of you?
“I have something for you,” Armitage whispers as he slips a dark box from one of the inner pockets of his suit, and you try to take comfort knowing that the answer is not yet. 
It’s heavy in your palms. Heavy in a way that screams of extravagance, and your palms itch at the feeling of it, of the need that drapes over you like a shroud every time you’re reminded that Armitage, and men like him, could afford to give away the kind of money some people would kill for.
You pop the lid open, breathing in the scent of leather and jewelry polish. There’s a gasp on your lips that you couldn’t have faked, even if you wanted to.
Diamonds, nestled tightly in their gleaming settings, connected by a thin string of gold, glow in the damp streetlights outside the window. It slips smoothly from the case, draping elegantly over your fingers, metal cool to the touch. You’re no appraiser, but you’ve spent enough time around fine jewelry to know what something like this would cost.
Armitage is trying not to smile, as proud as you’ve ever seen him. He had certainly agonized about this choice, the same way he agonized about most things. You’d have to write an apology to the poor store clerk who helped him pick it out. Unless they worked for commission.
He makes no move for that inner pocket again, produces no receipt—not that you could ever return something so beautiful, even if you needed the money. 
“Will you wear it?” he asks, but from the look on your face he must know the answer, slipping the necklace from your shaking hands. 
Your instincts in this area are sharp as ever, luckily, and your body turns away from him out of habit, slipping your coat from your shoulders to make room at the nape of your neck. The chain descends, crossing your line of sight again, and you almost tear up knowing that you won’t get to see it again until the evening is over. 
“A small token of my gratitude,” Armitage whispers the words, low and soft against your ear, “for accompanying me tonight.”
His fingers still at the back of your neck, slipping softly down your shoulders, stopping at your arms, skin bare, goosebumps raising in response to his touch, a shiver in your breath.
“You shouldn’t have,” you tell him, meeting his eyes over your shoulder, smiling softly. It seems like the wrong time to mention that this is what he pays you for. Or a part of it.
Armitage smirks, but it has none of the buoyant pride from earlier.
“You’re about to meet my father. I should have done much, much more.”
Brendol Hux’s estate—it felt wrong to call it a mansion, as large as it was—glowed from every window, bright enough you may have been able to see it from miles away, if it weren’t surrounded by a copse of drooping, black trees. A colossal, stately edifice, gray stone and rippling glass, you couldn’t help but think of all those period piece movies you’d been watching on your evenings alone as Armitage led you up the stairs toward the entryway, his posture rigid and tense, like he was walking onto the battlefield. 
There had been a slew of introductions—a towering, important blonde woman who never smiled, a whole host of scowling, old men who refused to look Armitage in the eye, and then the baby-faced younger ones with their neat hair and puppy-dog eagerness. They practically glowed under Armitage’s regard, although he hardly seemed to notice the worship in their eyes.
And then you had met his father. Not the fire and brimstone event that Armitage had foreseen—the conversation was short and austere, and you spent most of it trying to find a hint of Armitage in the man who stood before you, coming up blank. 
Maybe you had been rude, but who could have blamed you? You’ve seen the scars.
Armitage never spoke about them—the flat burns from the end of a cigarette that dotted his arms, stretched thin over the corded muscle, or the narrow white bands across his back that flexed with each shift of his shoulders. He never said a word, even if his cheeks grew ruddy when he felt your fingers brush against them, his eyes turning dark. 
So what if you had been rude? Armitage paid you for lots of things, but your loyalty came for free. 
All that unpleasantness is over now. A glass of champagne in hand, you’ve found a private corner together, sharing smiles and soft words between sips of the fizzy wine, your head buzzing pleasantly each time Armitage strokes a finger over the chain around your neck. 
“Should we go?”
It’s wrong of you to ask—this is his event, and you’ll stay as long as he needs, even if it means ignoring that pleasant ache between your thighs for a little longer. 
Armitage almost smiles, leaning in closer—much too close, given the way so many eyes catch as they cross your path—his breath hot and damp against your ear, full of illicit promises. A shiver blossoms over your skin.
But you never hear whatever sins Armitage is about to share. You’re interrupted, a dark shadow stepping into your line of sight.
“Armitage, you haven’t introduced me to your date.”
He’s a tall man—taller than Armitage, even—voice low and rumbling, like the tremors before an earthquake. His hair is unruly and dark, long enough it brushes the collar of his jacket. The suit is fine, but stretched taut over his broad shoulders, a little too tight to be considered well-cut. His eyes rake over you, shamelessly, from the hem of your dress to where the necklace rests against your collar bone. Armitage scowls beside you.
“Ren,” Armitage says, but it’s less an introduction and more a warning.
You take the hand Ren offers you, stuttering out your name when he lifts it to his mouth, brushing his lips across your knuckles, eyes meeting yours—dark and intense, like fresh coal on a smoldering fire. 
“A pleasure,” he tells you. The feeling isn’t mutual.
But you’ll try to keep up appearances, offering a faint smile as you take your hand from his barely-loosened grip, fingers brushing against his calloused palm. Armitage stiffens, a hand sliding against the curve of your spine, settling stiffly against your hip before pulling you closer.
“So,” Ren asks, ignoring the gesture and the waves of displeasure emanating from Armitage, “how did you two meet?”
Oh, joy—a quiz. Ren is as skeptical as you’ve ever seen a man, but that only strengthens your resolve.
“Online,” you answer curtly, making your lack of interest apparent, broadcasting it with another sip of champagne and a longing look in Armitage’s direction. You don’t care if Ren thinks you’re rude for it. You could be getting railed in the back of a private car right now if it weren’t for him. 
Ren only hums, a smirk on his lips. “Really?”
You nod, but don’t say anymore. For every client you’d ever had, there were about a thousand men like Ren—suspicious types, hoping to trip you up, or expose you—and none of them were as clever as they thought. You know Ren wants you to ramble out explanations, to stumble into a mistake as he collected the pieces he needed to embarrass Armitage. 
You’d let him choke on your stony silence, instead. 
“I had no idea online dating could be so . . . effective. And what is it you do?”
“Philanthropy.” 
A rote answer—you’d attended enough parties with the upper echelon to know that any interest in your career would die as soon as that word passed your lips.
But Ren doesn’t stumble.
“Charity cases?” Ren’s smirk turns into a smile, teeth bared, “is that what this is?”
He gestures with the hand holding his whiskey glass, pointing first at you, then at Armitage, as if the meaning wasn’t already clear.
Armitage flinches, pulling from your side with a half-step, like he might start shouting at Ren, or maybe skip the formalities and punch him square in the jaw. 
You still him with a hand to his chest. Your eyes stay locked on Ren’s.
“No, not at all!” you assure him, words dripping with sincerity, “I’m more than happy to chat with any of Armitage’s coworkers.”
Ren’s smile falls at the insult, and you feel your own grow wider, wicked and petty. Serves him right. 
Armitage radiates with satisfaction, touch possessive as his fingers press more tightly into your waist. He leans in—closer than necessary, lips just brushing the shell of your ear—but his whispered words are plenty loud.
“Let’s go, love. I’m bored.”
You let Armitage lead you away, sending Ren a sarcastic little wave over your shoulder.
You had thought he would take you back through the front doors and into the chill night air, but you’re mistaken. He weaves smoothly through the other guests, around the edge of the party and into a quiet hallway where the light doesn’t reach.
“In here,” he tells you, grabbing a door seemingly at random and ushering you inside. It’s a bathroom—small, but still glittering with gilt-edges and frames and ornate wall-paper—full of fine soaps and plush towels that look as if they’ve never been used.
Behind you, the lock clicks as it slides into place.
“Armitage, what are you—”
He doesn’t give you a chance to finish, and doesn’t answer either, not with words. There’s the press of his fingers, curling in the chain around your neck, pulling you in close until his mouth meets your own.
The kiss is harsh, crushing, tainted with a need you hadn’t seen before. It has your mouth open, a harsh breath sucked through your lips, but it’s Armitage’s tongue that fills the gap, tasting the wine you had been drinking when it brushes against your own. The fastener for the necklace digs into the top of your spine.
Your mouth shifts from his, but Armitage is undeterred, hot breath heavy against your cheek, free hand gripping a handful of your ass.
“You’ll break it,” you admonish him, forcing the meeting of your eyes.
Armitage is unflinching, his body heavy as it presses your hips into the edge of the marble countertop. You can feel the shape of him through the thin fabric of his trousers, feel the way he aches for you. 
He’s unapologetic, nudging your mouth back where he wants it. “I’ll buy you another.”
Jesus. You had been wrong before, in the car. There are no men like Armitage Hux. 
But he does concede a little, shifting his hand like you had asked, fingers circling your neck instead. Armitage keeps your mouth on his with a firm and unequivocal grip, grinding into you, both aching and persistent and you can feel yourself dripping, panting with need that he’s created with so little effort. The air grows hot around you, a thin sheen of sweat blossoming across your cheeks. 
“Armitage.” 
You want to ask him here? now? But you can’t, your desperation is clear in the pitch of his name, the way it crawls from you, clinging to the hollow of his throat and the flush of blood that creeps over his skin. 
Armitage hears it, matches its feverish want, collecting the silky material of your skirt in both of his hands, pulling it up until your knees are bared, your thighs, the black lace that covers you beneath it. 
You help him, so eager, too eager, even, the fabric almost slipping from your grip. Armitage traces his fingers up the inside of your thigh, fits his hand in the space between. Your hips shift against him involuntarily, a gasp from your lungs when the tip of his finger brushes against your clit.
And Armitage watches with ice-gray eyes, drinks in your body’s reaction to him, to his touch at your sensitive cunt, to the other back on your neck, squeezing slightly. Soft, spattered moans spill from your lips with each breath, and his fingers must be damp now, given the way your underwear clings to your skin.
It hasn’t been like this with him. Armitage is never so demanding, never this sure of himself. There’s always been a sense of deference from him, an apology that preceded every touch. The absence of it has your legs shaking, lungs shallow.
“Are you ready for me?” he asks, and you nod against his hold.
Armitage has to take his hands off you to slip his belt from the buckle, and you miss the feeling, unmoored and shaky, knees hollow, palms pressed into the counter to support your weight. You might fall to the floor if he doesn’t hurry.
But Armitage is methodical in this, and everything else, freeing his cock from the confines of his trousers, slipping the condom from his pocket and splitting the wrapper with his teeth.
You had watched him tuck it into his pocket earlier, embarrased, attempting to be subtle, and had found the gesture sweet. 
There’s nothing sweet about him now, as he approaches you again, places one hand at your hip and the other back between your thighs, slipping the sticky fabric out of the way. Your cunt twitches, met by cool air and his soft, probing fingers. There’s a sob on your lips when he just brushes at your clit.
“You have to be quiet,” Armitage warns, and you faintly remember the party just outside the door—his father, and that dark-haired man, the rude one, although you can’t recall his name.
Armitage slips the head of his cock inside your aching hole, presses the palm of his other hand tight against your lips, and you moan into it, feel the vibrations singing through your cheeks.
“Quiet,” he reminds you, thrusting deeper, filling you more until the stretch is divine, an incomparable ache.
Armitage works his way into you, thrusts measured and even, your body nudging against the counter with each movement until you’re sure there will be a silly-looking bruise across your ass cheeks when he’s done with you. You can’t care about that, though, not with the press of his hand and the smell of his skin, and the thick trail of his cock brushing past that spot inside you, the one that has tears slipping from the corners of your eyes, pooling against his fingers and dripping down his wrist.
And Armitage takes it all, watching you fall apart for him, practically unblinking. His own moans come out sharp through gritted teeth, matching the pace of your own, the crescendoing spark that builds and builds in the pit of your stomach. 
There’s his fingers against your clit, coaxing the spark into a flame, tracing the edges of it until you’re afraid that someone might hear the wet, echoing squelch of your pussy. 
Armitage loses some of his well-maintained discipline at the feeling of it, the tremors just beginning to travel through your cunt, clinging to him, inviting him deeper, asking for more. He falls into you, your chest pressed to his, the damp heat of his breath against your ear, and you can feel the brush of his jaw as it tenses, the way his body fights against its own release, desperate to give you yours.
“Come for me,” Armitage begs, “please.” 
You do, because you can’t think of a thing you wouldn’t do for him, if he asked it. Because you’re finding that there is no limit to your loyalty, and because you want to feel him unravel against you, and he won’t if you don’t first.
Your vision darkens, body spiraling, submerged in pleasure, in the feeling of him—the drag of his cock and the weight of his fingers against your clit. In other things, too. Softer things. His breath against your neck, the kiss he presses to the space behind your ear, delicate and wanting. 
Maybe he thinks you won’t notice, occupied as you are. But you do.
He spills soon after with an unmistakable flood of heat, thrusts slowing until they stop, his cock seated inside you. And it feels right. 
Armitage comes back to himself, dropping his hand from your mouth, and you suck in a heavy breath, filling your lungs until your breathing slows, enjoying the press of his chest against yours. Your legs grow steadier, and so you release your grip on the edge of the table, stroking a hand down his spine, slipping a hand through the hair at the edge of his collar.
His lips are quirked at the edges, when he meets your eyes again, giddy, maybe. Proud, certainly, at his boldness. You can’t resist kissing his beautiful mouth, the feeling of that smirk growing into a smile. 
“Now we can leave,” he tells you, pulling back from your embrace. You’re colder without him, goosebumps dotting the skin of your arms.
He slips the condom off, tucks himself back into his trousers as you adjust your own clothing, checking your appearance in the mirror.
There are tear tracks, glistening against your cheeks, and you brush them away with both hands, flushing at the mess he’s made of you.
Armitage doesn’t seem disturbed by this at all, offering you his arm. You reach for him, and then pull back, hesitant.
“Shouldn’t we leave separately?” you ask, “people might . . . talk.”
They would definitely talk, of course. There was nothing a group of rich people liked more than spitting venomous words about each other when backs were turned. No doubt your absence had already been noticed, and there was no telling how many people had watched you walk into this hallway together. 
Armitage remains unbothered, even if his thoughts mirror your own.
“Let them talk.”
He leaves no room for argument, and so you take the arm he offers, stepping from the bathroom door and into the empty hallway.
Previously empty hallway. You almost stumble into a man, an apology already spilling from your lips before you’ve even made contact.
Oh. Not just any man. The man, the one from before. 
Ren.
He turns to face you, annoyance creasing his brow, morphing into shock when he sees Armitage following behind you. 
“Excuse us,” you tell him, slipping past his wide frame, “we were just leaving.” 
Ren nods, stunned into silence, and you hold back a giggle. Armitage takes your hand in his, trailing behind you lazily. You don’t have to watch him to know that he wears his pride like armor, shoulders thrown back, victorious in every sense of the word. 
It might be wishful thinking, but you don’t think Armitage will ever forget this.
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crying-fantasies · 5 months ago
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still the same person who forgot anonymously thing..I really admire and love your angst lore it make my heart hurt (in a gud way)
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Thanks for the ask, don't worry I won't show your account name anon!
SG Mayhem, well, to begin with, it should mean that SG Soundwave finally scored a date with his intended to begin with.
The Shatter Glass universe is a very awful one, as the autobots keep having the script on their favor even in this reality, there's such little time to stop and think about the glee of life itself, even for SG Soundwave, but hey, finding joy and showing it to the others is his job, among other things.
SG Soundwave finds his love for the human race even when humans are anything but bitter towards his own race, in the very few songs and recordings of the same almost lost ones, when the humans get tipsy seems to be his favorite part of the day not because they do such silly things, he loves it because it means his little friends are putting their trust in him, in the decepticons, and he loves when they all start to sing, looking at them with the same adoration a child does to the most strange creature, his weight put on his arms as his pedes kick slowly in the air, chest piece on the floor as the humans sing "The look".
His interest focused, as usual, over his human intended, the world seems to slow down as there's that carefree smile you hardly give in the dark world you live, dancing messily and with a hard body, smiling with your flat, little teeth as the lyrics fall from your lips, hair a mess as you enjoy yourself.
In the most forgotten, rotten, stressed, hardened and sad human being he found your light a beautiful shiny drop in all the bitter of situations even when you brushed him away once and then indefinitely.
SG Soundwave, like any other of his other versions, is anything but perseverant.
His perseverance gets him more than a short hello, more than a scornful glance, soon a truthful ounce of expectancy shows on your eyes when you see him, once he is sure you won't take cover to avoid his presence he finally starts courting you, back in Kaon music was so appreciated, he makes his own version of "The look" as he knows is human tradition to dedicate someone a very well know song, he gives it his own touch to make it his own to some degree, his version and yours.
Some cons and humans look the display, most humans look grossed out of their minds when you take place on his waiting servo, making him feel the most fortunate con alive, some cons looking just say "huh, finally".
And many cons can only say "fragging finally" when some find a tiny but discernable smell in you and the beginning of a pretty mark on the skin where your neck meets your shoulder almost a year later.
SG Mayhem is forged during the time the decepticons take over Kaon once again, for a moment SG Soundwave has a happy family, as he can see you smile sincerely once again holding the protoform, the little one searching for your warm body.
It's a dream come true, one that quickly creates a living nightmare.
The cassettes are with Mayhem and you, SG Soundwave is with High Command before the living quarters are attacked, non combative forces are decimated and Soundwave fears the worst when his spark pulses but he can't perceive your life in the other end, his cassettes return to him with a scared Mayhem.
SG Mayhem is maybe one of the most scarred ones.
SG Soundwave tries to raise his sparkling in the best environment he can give him, he wants to keep your memory alive, but Primus is it hard when all Mayhem does is think about how to kill the autobots better, once Mayhem is old enough he tries to kill SG Sideswipe himself once his body is matured because he was an autobot, things got so bad the youngling wanted answers from SG Megatron himself in how he could leave an autobot, who has murdered thousands, who was part of the same group that killed his carrier right in front of him, be now a decepticon.
SG Megatron, in all his wisdom, reminds the youngling that SG Sideswipe changed alliances long before Mayhem was even online, it was not his fault, as everyone has their own choices, and as hard as it is to say in front of his old friend, you made your decision of giving your life for the ones you loved most.
"Decisions, decisions, decisions. It's all about fragging decisions!"
SG Soundwave looks at the fragment of his own spark and your soul walk away, nothing on him more than a few energon cubes on his subspace, SG Frenzy and SG Rumble each holding a pede of the youngling to try to stop him.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"If Megatron doesn't kill Optimus Prime, I'll do it myself"
Of course, SG Soundwave stops him, a desperate sire holding to what he has left and never wishing war to befall his precious gift, SG Buzzsaw and SG Ravage try to make him see reason as SG Laserbeak can only watch horrified and SG Ratbat cries for everyone to stop shouting, crying out loud "Your carrier would've never wanted this for you!"
SG Mayhem is full of resentment for any autobot, but is all the sadness and bitterness he seems to have inherited from you, such an endless sadness that, even when SG Soundwave tried to stop it, only gave path for an auto destructive rage, if SG Mayhem were to meet the IDW equivalent of his sire, he would hate him because, even if it was only for a short period of time, he was an autobot ally.
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skyward-floored · 1 year ago
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Warriors gets his nickname
Hi I’m not updating long fics even though I want to, I’m instead writing more short Incredibles au stuff *collapses*. I’ll update other things eventually I promise ;-;
This is the furthest back fic I’ve written I think— Time is only a teenager, and Warriors is very smol. Time goes by Time because he got sick of them both being Link, but Warriors doesn’t have a nickname yet. I think that’s all the background you really need though, so I’ll stop and just let you read already.
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Link held tight to Time’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk, headed towards the corner stand where Time knew they could get lunch for cheap. He usually skipped lunch himself, or just nibbled something small, but since it was the weekend, Link wasn’t in school and he had to get him something.
Time looked down at his little brother, Link trotting along beside him. He was nearly drowning in his too-big scarf, and Time flipped it around his neck one more time so he wouldn’t trip on it, Link giving him a little smile.
Time sighed to himself.
He was still figuring out how to deal with having a kid as his responsibility, but... he was making it work. He’d managed to get Link in a preschool on weekdays, and was working on a more permanent place for them to stay besides “in this nice tree” or “in the backseat of the car”. Nobody believed him when he said he was old enough to rent an apartment when he tried though, so it was usually still the backseat of the car for them.
But in general, Time didn’t usually feel like screaming, and was able to keep Link happy, so he was counting the whole thing as at least a partial success.
He seriously needed to find a nickname for the kid though— two Links was two too many.
Why did you name him after me, Mom? he thought as he watched Link jump over a slushy puddle. Why did you leave him with me? Surely you knew someone who who would do a better job? Someone who’s an adult? I’m his brother, but that doesn’t mean I know how to raise him.
A crashing sound made Time’s ears prick, and the thoughts he’d been repeatedly having ever since he’d met Link fled as he turned towards a tiny side street, one that ran behind several shops.
He tugged Link over towards the alley, suspicion in every step. That hadn’t just sounded like a normal dropping-something crash to him. And sure enough, he found a newly shattered window that led into a pawn shop, a shadow disappearing into the shelves inside.
“...bad guy?” Link asked, and Time nodded, already looking for a spot to switch into his super suit.
“Bad guy. A crazy one too, breaking and entering in broad daylight. Looks like somebody doesn’t know that stealing is wrong,” he said with a tsk, and Link let out a small giggle.
Time quickly ducked behind a dumpster to change, and emerged moments later, flexing his hands in his gloves. Link gave him an interested look, and Time suddenly remembered that he couldn’t very well bring his four-year-old brother inside with him.
“...Right,” Time sighed, then scooped Link up and quickly deposited him behind the same dumpster he’d changed behind. “Stay here, don’t let him or anyone see you. I’ll take care of him but don’t come out until I come get you.”
Link frowned, worry pinching at his eyebrows, and Time tucked his scarf a little more tightly around him.
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Time assured, but Link kept frowning.
“Hurt?”
“I won’t get hurt. And even if I do I can handle it, but I need to not worry about you while I fight. Stay here,” Time said firmly, then turned and jumped into the shattered window before his brother could argue.
He spotted the robber within seconds, the man breaking open a glass case with all sorts of valuables stored inside. Time put his little brother out of his mind for now, and crept closer, then abruptly cleared his throat. The man jumped at the noise and whipped around, brandishing a crowbar and staring at him.
“I don’t think those belong to you,” Time said with a smirk, and the man swung, Time nimbly jumping out of the way.
“Fierce Deity,” the man spat, and Time gave him a mocking bow.
“At your service. Put the fancy gold watches back.”
The man laughed, then his eyes narrowed behind the reptilian mask he wore. “Dinolfos of the Lizal gang doesn’t take orders from you.”
“Fine,” Time sighed, rolling his eyes. “I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”
He threw a punch towards Dinolfos, which the robber neatly avoided, and the two began to fight, weaving around each other and dodging attacks.
Dinolfos was surprisingly skilled at avoiding Time’s punches, and Time had barely landed any hits after several minutes. Dinolfos on the other hand, had grazed him at least twice now, and annoyance began to swell in Time’s chest. He wasn’t incapacitated from the hits, but he didn’t like where this was going.
He fought faster, managing to knock the crowbar from Dinolfos’s hand, and the battle sped up without the weapon in the mix, kicks and punches just barely grazing both of them.
This guy is fast, Time thought, lunging out of the way of a punch that likely would have given him a bloody nose. How is he so fast?! Argh.
Time managed a swing that connected with Dinalfos’s shoulder, and he reeled back, shouting in anger as he lunged for Time. Time once again dodged out of the way, and noticed with a smirk that his opponent’s swings were getting more wild.
He backed up to give himself some space, easily dodging the angry punches thrown at him. Time stuck his tongue out as Dinolfos missed again, and his opponent let out a roar of frustration as Time continued to easily avoid his angered strikes.
Until Time stumbled on the dropped crowbar.
His foot slipped and Dinolfos lunged, kicking Time right in the chest and knocking the breath out of him as he was thrown straight through the broken window. He went flying into some trash cans at the end of the alley, and heard Link gasp from his hiding spot, but his chest was tight, too tight for him to sit up or even move, just lie there and gasp for breath.
Dinolfos’s foot had caught him at exactly the wrong angle, and knocked every bit of air from his lungs.
Footsteps ran over, and Time opened his eyes with a cough, expecting to see Dinolfos with his weapon raised above his head, ready to strike.
Instead he saw Link standing protectively in front of him, arms held out as if to shield Time despite his tiny size.
Dinolfos laughed.
“Is this your sidekick, Deity?” he guffawed, looking down at Link as he stalked forward. “He is tiny! Were you so desperate for help that you thought even a baby would be better than nothing?”
He continued to laugh, and Link glared up at him, his hands clenching into fists. Time tried his best to catch his breath and get to his feet, but his lungs refused to work, no matter how he gasped. Stupid lungs, come on!
The very air temperature seemed to drop all of a sudden, and a flare of panic hit Time as the robber stepped towards Link. No no no no no—
Dinolfos lunged for him, but Link blasted a spurt of ice from his hands, hitting Dinolfos in the legs. He yelped in surprise, and before he could recover, Link sprayed more ice at him, trailing up his legs and hitting his arms as well.
The shots were clumsy, and it was obvious Link didn’t have much practice, but Dinolfos was completely stuck by the time he finished, and unable to grab his weapon.
Or move, for that matter.
“You brat!” Dinolfos hissed, glaring at where Link stood. “How dare you? I am of the Lizalfos pack, son of Dinal, leader of the Lower Lizards, Master of—!”
Link shot a bit of ice over his mouth, making his face flush with anger.
Time finally managed to get some air into his lungs, and he rolled over, looking up at Dinolfos and Link with an impressed expression.
“Huh,” Time wheezed, still trying to fully catch his breath. Partially from the kick, but mostly from the remaining panic of seeing his little brother nearly be attacked while he just gasped for breath on the pavement.
Sloppy, too sloppy, you should have put him further away, he barely knows how to use his powers he could’ve been hurt he could have been ki—
Time sighed, and winced as he put a hand to his chest and lightly rubbed. He was definitely going to have a bruise tomorrow. “We’ll have to talk about your listening skills kiddo, but... nice work. You’re quite the little warrior, huh?”
His brother’s face positively lit up at his words, and he pointed to himself, some snowflakes settling in his hair.
“Warriors,” he said proudly, and Time snorted, slowly getting to his knees.
“Warrior, kid. No S.”
“Warriors!”
“There’s only one of you, there’s no S,” Time argued back as he stood, but the kid just kept chattering ‘Warriors’ to himself, over and over. A vein bulged in Dinalfos’ forehead, and Time snorted, shaking his head.
He had been thinking about finding a nickname earlier... I suppose there are worse ones out there.
“Well come on, ‘Warriors’, let’s go get lunch. Frosty here can just hang around until the police show up,” he said, ruffling Link’s hair.
Link beamed, and took the hand Time offered him as they stepped out of the alleyway and walked down the street, leaving Dinolfos behind in the alley.
Dinolfos yelled a curse behind them that was entirely unintelligible.
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peachymilkandcream · 6 months ago
Note
hello, Have you ever done anything involving fairies? In this case Evelyn is the fairy and Levi the hunter?
👾
Never Stop Hunting You| Levi x Evelyn AU
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(A/N: Hi! I haven't actually, not on purpose but I've just never thought of it. Thank you for the suggestion and request, hope you enjoy!)
WARNINGS: big age difference, kidnapping, slavery, violence, power imbalance, mind breaking, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, blackmail, etc.
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Levi had been hunting these little creatures for a life time. Once he had an interest in mermaids, but the sea didn't call him as aggressively as this mission had. He couldn't help it, he strived to find the unexplained, to be the one to find something different in this world. He would be the one. Levi had been working on his craft for years, and each time he had caught glimpses that vanished before he could get a second look.
Now he was seasoned in how fairies acted and worked. He knew how to sneak up on them and make himself unseen so they didn't get frightened away.
Under a hide of leaves and twigs covering his leather tunic and pants he waited. No matter how hard you tried sneaking up on them was futile, any twig or leaf stepped on led them to vanish. Too many times had he gotten so close but made a fatal error that set him back weeks of preparation.
No mistakes this time. All of his friends had abandoned him, thinking he was a lunatic and they had wasted enough time on this futile expedition. He would show them, he'd show everyone that he wasn't bluffing about all of this.
Steele grey eyes stare out at the dark forest, waiting with eyes focused for any sign of movement. Any hint of life that would clue him in to how much longer his wait would be.
This would be it.
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Levi had been drifting to sleep waiting this whole time. As much as he tried the endless wait for anything that would tip him off that they were close tired him out.
When he did wake it was just in time for him to see little lights gathering in the trees. His attention was instantly taken with what he saw.
The lights came closer, gathering as fluttering wings came out of the trees. Levi's breath caught in his throat at the beautiful sight. Everywhere little figures moved, their wings fluttering and catching on the moonlight to give a silvery shine to them.
The fairies themselves were beautiful with silky hair and short dresses that were a rainbow of colors and resembling flower petals. Both male and female had a radiant shine to them, Levi knew that they had been around for centuries but even the oldest looking ones still had more youth in their faces than he did.
One in particular caught his eye. The brown and curled hair a stark contrast to this fairy's blue eyes. Her beauty made the world stop. She was lively and a little foolish compared to the others, coming closer and closer to the edge of the fairy circle where Levi lay in wait. This was perfect. He thought he'd have to do something risky and drastic to capture one, but here was one coming right to him.
"Little minx." Was what he thought as she came closer and closer.
Just a little bit longer, that's it. She flew all the way to where he was, taking notice in the bright and fragrant flowers grew in front of his hiding spot. Levi specifically chose this, knowing the fairies were ones for bright colors and sweet smells.
Right in front of him she landed. And he could see her beauty up close. She was much more radiant this close to him. All of her face in immense detail, the contours of her tiny body even more distinct. This is what he'd been working for all this time. This is what he'd spent his life working towards.
Slowly, and with the utmost silence both his hands came up. One holding a glass bottle and the other prepared to push her in.
Sweat poured down his face at the nervousness coursing through him. Would he be able to get her in time, or would she fly away before he could react?
The seconds ticked on before he decided to go for it. Rushing and pushing her into the glass bottle and sealing the top with his hand. The sound made the other's scatter but he didn't care, looking into the glass he had what he wanted. A terrified fairy looking at him with those wide blue eyes.
"Hello my dear. No need to be afraid. You're going to enjoy belonging to me."
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100lxtters · 2 years ago
Text
Testing the ‘old’ Hunter
!! THIS ONE SHOT IS FOR 18+ VIEWING ONLY, MINORS DNI !!
AO3 I Masterlist
Boba Fett x fem!reader 6.5k words Deciding to roleplay with Boba was a dangerous game, especially in terms about how his hunting skills where, teasing that they would have weakened with his older age. Hiding away in a cantina from him, awaiting for him to retrieve you and have his way with you Dom!Boba, sub!reader Warnings : dom/sub, smut, brat, predator/prey kind of, roleplay, mask/helmet kink, choking, degradation kink, handcuffs, naked female clothed male, face slapping, hair-pulling, finger fucking, orgasm denial, orgasm control, spanking, helmet stays on, penis in vagina sex, a bit toxic but its all consensual, praise kink, creampie, reader is on birth control, aftercare Mando'a translations: cyar'ika - darling/sweetheart mesh'la - beautiful ad'ika - little one
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The music in the cantina was burning your ears as you swayed your hips, the tiny outfit you had on barley covering your ass and your tits daring to slip out the top. Everything stunk, your shoes were sticking to the floor with every movement, and there were too many creeps staring at you. 
But you tried to ignore it, letting the little amount of alcohol in your veins run through you as your eyes danced along the room. You had managed to pick an almost hidden spot in the busiest cantina on Tatooine.
Surely he won't find you easily.
Your legs dug into the arm of the throne, smirking down at Boba as you say ''no, I reckon your skills have roughened up over the years. I bet you wouldn't be able to track me down, even if you tried your best.''
His hand stopped stroking your thigh, now gripping tightly onto it, pulling you closer as his other hand cups your chin, ''careful there little one, you don't want to test me.''
''Whatever you want to think, old man.''
Smirking to yourself as you glanced over to the door, questioning where he will start, and how long he had already been searching. Wondering if he found the note yet, and if he did how quickly he jumped into your little game. 
All your note really stated was 'let's test those skills and come collect your bounty' as you left it laying on the arm of the throne.
You had left the Palace early this morning, finding old clothing in an abandoned room, most likely from Jabba's rule. Once you left you just started heading into random cantinas around Mos Espa until you realised that was too easy for Boba, so you ended up in Mos Eisley instead. Of course to keep the game fun and to give him the 'thrill of the hunt' you left clues behind in those cantinas. Not much just like a piece of jewellery, an old top you were going to bin anyway, and in one cantina you literally just wrote Boba on a glass in lipstick.
It was silly and dumb, but for you it made it more interesting, wanting to see what he would use to find you again.
You just prayed he didn't use a tracking fob as that would be too easy.
The door sliding open caught your attention, your head slowly turning towards it to see a mirialan woman walk in, you just sigh and put your attention back into dancing. Starting to figure it was maybe time to move to another cantina, if Boba was on his way then it would be more fun moving again.
Trying to plan what clue you could leave behind you hear the sliding door once again, heavy steps entering the cantina and a few people quieten down. Surely it must be him now.
So you peak your head around the corner and see you were correct, his head slowly turning around the room, you ducking behind the pillar before his sight set on you. ''Please, enjoy your night everyone. Don't mind me'' Boba announces, his voice almost sounding tired. Hearing his heavy steps make their way to the bar, closing in to the tender as he says, ''I'm looking for a girl.'' You angle yourself to be able to watch the situation now without him seeing you.
The balosar man behind the bar, scuffs and replies ''look around mate, there are plenty of women here.... for the right credits of course.''
''No, I'm looking for a specific girl'' Boba replies, the slight hint of annoyance in his voice from the mans suggestion, ''I'm looking for her'' he adds as he places down a holodevice with an image of you on it. Fuck.
Time to go, you think. Your eyes set on the backdoor, but you knew that it would mean Boba would see you in the process of escaping. So you do what you've been doing most the day, you sway your hips towards the door and act like you're just part of the crowd.
''Yeah I've seen her, she's just over there'' you hear the tender reply.
It was like you could feel Boba's eyes burning into your back, now it was time to really go.
Your feet pick up and you run for the door, hearing his heavy armoured body fastly heading towards you. Your whole body shoves against the door, forcing it open and sliding through the first gap you could. His footsteps stop once you're out the cantina, you smirk and turn around. The sight was almost horrifying, his helmet just glaring at you through the gap.
But you keep going, heading down any small alleyway you could find, rushing into another cantina just to run out their backdoor too.
There wasn't much to run to here, at the end of the day you do want him to find you, you wanted him to punish you for running and take whatever he wanted from you.
The whole time you are just smiling to yourself, cutting through crowds and sliding through whatever space you could. You were well ahead of him now, but just how far? He knew what to do and how to find you.
After you run into another alley you slow down, allowing yourself to take a deep breath in and calm. Maker, running on Tatooine wasn't a good idea, regardless of how much cooler the nights may be, the humid air didn't calm down at all. You'd think thanks to your very little clothing it would help yet they just stuck to you. Even if Boba wasn't far behind you the likeliness of him finding you had to be lower now, right?
Letting your feet still wander the hidden alleyways, taking a moment to feel smug for escaping that cantina just before Boba grabbed you. You wonder if he knew you were there all along, or how many hours had he been searching for you. Maybe you'll never know, it was part of the fun anyway.
Suddenly you startle at the sound of a lizard falling out of a bucket onto the sand, scurrying away. You quietly laugh to yourself as you walk backwards until your body knocks into something, or more like someone. ''There you are'' the modified voice says. 
You jump forwards before they grab your hand, spinning your body around and shoving your back into the closet wall. ''Ouch'' you say, pretending to pout as you stare into the visor of your lover.
''Do you know how long I've been looking for you? Had me searching half of Mos Espa before I realised you got bored of there, I would've found you hours ago if it wasn't for that trick.'' Oh, so your plans worked, he really was trying to find you using basic skills then.
So you just shrug and reply ''guess you're getting rusty in your old age then.''
There, you could feel it start to snap in him, the teasing was working just how you intended, how you wanted this 'game' to go. His hand launches onto the front of your throat, squeezing on both sizes as he pulled you closer, ''oh cyar'ika, keep testing me and see where that gets you.'' His voice so deep, so serious, you had never heard him speak to you like this, even in times of degrading you.
And yet it was just getting started, you could feel your pussy clenching around the air as you reply smiling with ''testing you? You really must be getting old if this all tired you out.''
This was possibly a bad idea, but you knew it would be worth it.
Without saying anything else his hand leaves your throat, you go to shoot him a confused look but before you can reply he grabs the top of your arm and shoves you forward, ''walk'' he orders. So you slowly move your feet towards the alleyway exit, hearing his spars behind you. You hope he's been enjoying hunting you down, making him work for it.
As the Mos Eisley streets appear a smirk crawls onto your face as you say ''it's awfully nice that you found me, but'' stopping in your tracks, turning to your left ''I've got to go.'' Then you're sprinting again.
You hear Boba curse under his breath, hearing his steps speeding up but you were faster than he was. Turning any random corner to stay out of sight, once again heading into a cantina to cut through. Wondering how far behind he was now, wondering how annoyed he must be and how he will take it out on you. It made your stomach flutter with excitement.
As you rush through the streets again you can feel the glares of the locals, wondering how often they must see these type of situations. Obviously yours being different since it was a consensual hunt.
After a little while you hide behind a corner in an empty mechanic workshop to catch your breath and to cool down. What was his plan? You basically told him to come find you, but what did he intend to do when he did? You prayed you both shared the same idea on it.
Thinking about how aggressive he would be, having his way with you as he wished. Taking what is his. Claiming his 'bounty'.
Your thoughts are cut as his spars once again ring in your ears, you poke your head out for a moment to watch him walk past the workshop. ''Come out brat, I know you're here'' Boba says, almost shouting. The locals must be so confused, wondering what the Daimyo was doing hunting again. The temptation to turn around and just say 'oh don't worry, it's just a sex thing' made you almost giggle imaging peoples reactions.
Moving back into the shop, eyes locked on the back door, trying to sneak over there to flee out the back. You hear him say your name, catching you off guard, causing you to knock a hammer off the table. Shit.
You don't even wait around to see if he heard it or not, and realistically he did as it landed onto metal, you just rush for the door. Shoving it open and using your whole body to shut the heavy door. You let out a sigh, but it was an early celebration.
''Get here, now'' you hear from the end of the street. Your head turns to him, you smirk and begin to head the other way until you're unable to. Your arms become attached to your hips, a wire wrapping around your whole body. There was nothing you could do except stand there like an idiot.
There was a pull on the wire, you assume it was due to him getting closer. His steps so heavy in the soft sand, getting closer and closer to you. Until he was right behind you, holding one shoulder to turn you around to him. ''H-hey'' you bat your eyelashes at him.
Boba's hand moved from your shoulder, hearing him fiddle with something as you felt your body become lose. His gloved hand holding your wrist before there was a click around it, a tight feeling too. Looking down to see him attach the binder to your other wrist too. Your head shot back up to his as you gave him a confused look, opening your mouth to say something before he gripped your cheeks and squished your face. ''Save it, you're coming with me. Wither you like it, or not.''
He grabs the top of your arm and starts to pull you along with him through the streets. You could feel your cheeks heat up as people stared at the pair of you, but you tried to swallow the embarrassment away, because at the end of the day you're about to have a fun evening. However you kept your head down to feel better, yet you were still smiling to yourself.
You were starting to wonder where he was taking you until Slave 1 comes into view, makes sense since both towns were opposite ends of his Palace. As the ramp starts to lower you use all your force to pull yourself out his grip, and luckily it works, mainly because he wasn't holding you all that tight. His helmet snaps to you as you back away from him, your face wearing a grin as you say ''so much for being a bounty hunter.''
A groan appears from behind his helmet, ''I mean it this time, back here now'' his shoulders tensing as he stands still. The glare from behind the helmet made you weak, you didn't even know how he was looking at you currently but you just knew he looked pissed, but most likely also smirking too.
There wasn't anywhere to really run to, just the endless Dune Sea, but again you weren't trying to run, you just wanted to play with him and get him riled up. It was only the two of you out here, keeping a distance from him as you say ''or what? What makes you think I'd come with you?'' Watching as his feet start to move towards you, so you back up with every step he takes, staying just out of reach. 
It happened almost out of nowhere, he sped up and almost launched at you, causing you to let out a yelp as he grabbed your upper arm again but a lot tighter this time. No trying to escape again. ''Kriffing brat'' he mutters under his breath as he drags you back to the ship.
''Get off me'' you struggle, trying to keep your lips from curling into a smile.
But it's useless, he walks up the ramp with his grip still tight, pressing a button to shut it before turning to you. Boba's visor glaring at you before you feel his leather gloved hand come in contact with your cheek, the slight burning sensation from the slap causing your mouth to hang open. He then grips both your cheeks with one hand and replies ''when I tell you to get back here then I expect you to do so.''
Your gaze just locks onto the visor, trying to come up with something witty to reply with. ''Oh, I'm so scared of you mister bounty hunter.''
Boba then spins your body around to face his small bunk on the ship, shoving your body into it, falling onto the hard mattress as you make eye contact with him for a moment before he says ''it would be in your best interest that you stay there, you don't want to find out what will happen if you disobey me, again.''
The door then shuts as you hear him climb the ladders up to the cockpit, you let yourself let out a deep breath and giggle to yourself. Maker you hope he is enjoying this as much as you are. 
The hum of the ship startles you as you feel it begin to take off, where was he taking you?
As he's out of sight you pull a pin out your bra you had hidden, holding it between your teeth to unlock one of your wrists. Leaning forward to press the button to open the door, you look out and see he is still up there. Exiting the bunk, shutting it behind you and sneaking across the ship into his big weapons cupboard. Looking through the tiny gap to see him when he returns.
After a couple of minutes you hear him climb back down the ladders, pressing the button to the bunk and sighing when he notices it's empty. ''Oh princess, you're making this harder for yourself. Can't follow one fucking instruction'' he groans. Watching as he presses a button on the side of his helmet, tilting his head downwards. You hear him chuckle and say ''we both know there's not many places to hide in here, so come out and I'll be kinder mesh'la.''
But you don't, you don't want him to be kind.
''Fine, have it your way.''
Boba's broad body turns around and charges straight for the cupboard, almost ripping the doors off as you come in contact with his helmet. He doesn't say anything as he grabs the dangling binder to pull you towards him, pulling you into the room as he shoves you towards the table in the middle of it.
He places you in front of him with your back turned to him, his strong hands digging into your hips as he forces your body over the table. Your ass instantly falling out the tiny outfit, feeling his crotch slightly rub against you, causing a quiet whimper to leave you. ''Is this what you wanted? For a big, bad bounty hunter to take advantage of you?''
Your free hand is pulled behind your back along with your cuffed one, him then closing the binders back around it again, holding your hands behind your back. Pressing your forehead into the table as the rest of your body fell against it, the only support keeping you up being your legs just about touching the floor still.
''For someone to treat you like the low life whore you are?'' His cold gloved hands running over your ass cheeks, playing with the hem of your underwear, ''to have your pussy absolutely ruined whilst someone takes their reward?''
You can't reply, if you speak it'll come out a whimpering mess, but he knew that. It was what he wanted. There was no way he couldn't see the soaking wet patch in your underwear. He knew what you wanted, knew that this was your plan all day.
His hands explored lower, closer to your aching pussy, sliding under your underwear. He was so close, right there, he just needed to move a little further in and give you what you so desperately wanted. His fingers softly crept along your folds, your body ever so slightly twitching from anticipation, then he very quickly ran a finger over your clit. A whimper sneaking out your throat before you could stop it.
Boba does it again, so you push yourself closer to his hand as much as you can, wanting more from him. He just tusks and says ''you don't get what you want now, after how you've been acting today little one.''
''But... please'' you whimper.
''Pathetic'' he chuckles, his hands moving away before they land on your hips, thrusting his clothed self against you causing a choked moan to hum in your mouth. One of his hands then snakes into your hair, grabbing a fist full of it making your neck snap as far back as it would, then his helmet lowers down next to your ear. ''Listen to me, slut. You do only as I say or do, and if that is so hard for you to follow I will make you regret it.''
You let out a dramatic sigh and reply ''and if I don't? Would you hand in a damaged bounty?'' teasing him as you smirked at the empty room in front of you.
''No, however you're my bounty so it doesn't matter. And seeing as you're mine I can choose my own reward'' as he finishes speaking you feel the hand from your hip go between your bodies, him messing with his pants before you feel his hard warm cock against your ass. Your body once again twitches from the touch, your thighs dying to press together to add pressure from your excitement.
Feeling his hand in your hair releasing you to grab the skirt, his grip tightening on it before he ripped it off your body in seconds. You let out a heavy breath from his sheer strength. Feeling him throw the fabric across the ship, then doing the same motion with your underwear, leaving your soaking pussy out in the ships cool air.
Boba's hands roam up your body, reaching the tiny top as he mutters ''you've been dressed like a little slut all day, where you hoping you could use your body to get out of this?''
Blushing as you almost whisper ''maybe, but I knew it would've worked.''
His gloves reaching under your bra, his freed cock running against your bare pussy, feeling it twitch as he cupped one breast softly saying ''oh did you now? Well it doesn't seem to be working right now, seeing as my plan for you'' his fingers pinching your nipple as you whimper, ''is to have you do whatever I please and wish to. You have no say in this matter, do you understand?''
''Yes'' you reply quietly, almost feeling shameful for your response as your brain starts to get taken over by horny thoughts.
Once again he tightly grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back so his cold helmet sits above your ear. ''Yes, what?'' Feeling his chin run along your ear as he spoke, almost spitting the words as he said them.
''Yes, sir'' you spit back. A groan leaves him as you suddenly feel him shove two gloved fingers into your pussy, a choked moan leaving you as he stretched you open. His fingers pushing deep into you before he starts thrusting them in and out, the leather harsh against you.
Leaning back up but still holding your hair as he says ''quit with the fucking attitude, or this will be harder for you.'' His fingers speeding up, you try to hold back your moans as much as possible but you struggled. ''Stop being pathetic, just let yourself enjoy what I do to you.''
And oh was it tempting, wanting to give into him like usual, being his perfect little sub you are most the time. But this was too fun, acting out against him and not following his exact order always caused a rush through you. ''M-maybe do better then'' you reply, breathing heavily as you swallow your moans.
You feel a third finger force it's way into your tight hole, tears threatening the corner of your eyes, feeling them curl inside you hitting the perfect sweet spot. Unfortunately that was enough to make you let out a loud moan. Boba chuckles behind you, ''what was that princess?'' His grip on your hair loosening as you feel yourself clench around his digits. ''Aw, are you getting close?'' his tone almost a mockery tone.
But you don't give him the satisfaction of replying, instead shutting your eyes and trying to hold in any moans and just letting out quick heavy breaths. He was right, you could feel the pit in your stomach growing, you had been waiting all day for this. You wanted a release, was enjoying this so much already.
The pool in your stomach starting to get ready, ''do you wanna cum? Tell me.'' You just nod and hum, still refusing to give him what he wants, but instead it just leads to his hand tightening in your hair again. ''Speak.''
''Please'' you blurt out, a moan sneaking out too. But as expected, he stopped. Letting go of your hair and pulling his fingers out. Cutting your orgasm off too soon. The side of your face resting on table, it cool against your warm face. ''Fuck you'' you mumble.
In response you were greeted with a hard slap across your ass cheek that caused you to yelp, before he did the same on the other cheek. Your legs squirmed and pressed together, maker that hurt. It's always worse when he slapped your ass with the gloves on, there was more power behind them. His fingers dig into your ass cheek as he groans ''oh I plan to.''
Without another second he shoves his cock through your folds, into your wet desperate hole. Filling your pussy completely with his thick length. Going as deep as he can, the base of his cock resting against your ass before he pulls back as he snapped his hips into yours hard and quickly.
You couldn't hold back anymore, you allowed the moans to fall out your mouth but only quietly, not letting him get the full satisfaction. Your denied orgasm building back up, shit you were already so close. He must have known as he teased ''you getting close again already?'' All you can do is nod, ''good, I want you to thank me after you cum, and you best remember what I said before. Also, I'm going to count down from five and then you can cum, you cum before that and I'll make you regret it.''
Oh, this game. It was fun, but maker was it almost scary, not wanting to cum before he allowed you to as in the past he had stopped mid orgasm which is just not fun. 
''Five'' you ball your fingers in, tightening your grip around nothing just to ground yourself. ''Four'' his hips started to slap harder, going deeper and deeper with each thrust. ''Three'' you let out a deep moan as his balls slap your clit, a sharp sensation running through you. You weren't going to hold out longer. ''Two'' shit, you prayed he would hurry as the pit was about to drop.
Preparing for the last number, the go ahead that you could cum. You were struggling against the binders, your face melting more into the table, your pussy clenching, ready to cover his cock in your cum.
His voice lowers, becoming so husky as he says ''one.''
Your body becomes undone beneath him, moaning loudly and messily. Body jolting as you suffocate his cock within your pussy. Eyes rolling back and seeing stars as you cum hard around him. His pace doesn't slow down, your cum making your already wet hole more wet for him. ''T-thank you.. sir, thank yo-you'' you moan out.
''What a dirty little slut, making a mess all over my cock'' he tusks down at you. His thrusts slowing down a little, grabbing your binders to use as a grip, forcing your body up a bit as he shoves his cock deep at this new angle. ''Such a beauty split open on my cock.'' Sweat falling down your back, your eyes fluttering open as mixes of heavy breaths and moans leave your mouth. Hearing his armour clank as he fucked you harder as he just held you up. 
Then you heard a quiet hiss, your wrists becoming free, feeling the binders slide down your back and make a soft bang sound as the landed on the floor. Boba then slowly pull out of you, you already felt so empty. He then grabbed your hips and turned you to face him, his hands instantly working on getting your top off, letting your breasts become free.
''I really lucked out with you, such a beautiful bounty'' he groaned as his fingers twisted one of your nipples. Your whole body almost blushing as your back arched a bit. ''Maybe I should keep you, no need to hand you over to anyone, is that what you want?'' Him closing in on you, your ass leaning against the table, ''claim you as mine? Make everyone know you're my slut?''
''Please, sir'' you whimper. His hands move onto the top of your thighs, helping lift you onto the table, pushing your legs open as he stood between them. Lining his cock up to your already sensitive pussy, slowly pushing it in as your hands fall onto his shoulders for grip, wrapping your legs around the top of his thighs.
Your grip around his legs making him go in deeper, you managed to get your own way without him realising he was doing so. He almost hugged your body as he went as deep as he could, he mumbles a curse under his helmet. His hips starting to rock against you, your fingers dig into the beskar but obviously it didn't do much for you to help hold yourself together. 
So you move one hand off his shoulder and starting to sneak it up to his helmet, wanting to feel his lips against yours. You start to lift the helmet before he grips your wrist harshly. Using his other hand he pushes you onto your back, you let out a heavy breath, shocked from the quick motion.
His other gloved hand smacks against your cheek before he holds your face second after, ''you never try to remove a hunters helmet, understand? Or are you too much of a dumb slut to know that?'' growling down at you. Boba's hips not longer rocking into you, just holding you as he glared through his visor.
''But I just wanted a kiss'' you pout.
His helmet gets closer as he quietly says ''I don't care.'' Then returning to slamming his cock further into you. His hand leaving your face and moving to your breast, tightening a grip around it.
''B-but that's not fair'' you whimper out as your back arched. The pit in your stomach filling again, your breathing increasing as you stare at him through your eyelashes.
However they fly open when his hand grips your throat, the other one still holding your tit. ''I don't fucking care what you think is fair or not, I'm in charge here. You're mine, and I will use you however I wish to'' Boba spits, his tone so serious now. The pool ready to drop, your pussy tightening around him again. ''Just cum, slut.''
And you do, not wasting a second. You cum harder then you did before, it almost hurting as you squeeze around his thick self. ''Fuck'' you mumble, it almost slurring. You were already starting to feel tired, not sure how much more you had in you. His hands return to your hips, he had just been holding you on his cock as you came, but once he could see you calmed a bit his grips on your hips tightened as he just used your hole.
''You're like my own personal fucktoy, aren't you? Just letting me do whatever I want to your perfect body'' in some way it was almost like he was worshiping you as he degraded you, it just sent flutters to your cunt. The way he was managing to make you feel so special whilst he ruined your body.
His fingers dug into your hips, you can guarantee there will be marks there tomorrow, small bruises most likely. Your eyes looking down at where you were both connected, such a beautiful sight.
Boba must have caught your eyeline as his lowers whilst he says ''look at how perfect you fit around me, like you were made for me. Maker, I'm keeping you all for myself.'' You could feel his thrusts slowing down, but his stride were longer, pushing his cock as deep as he could into your pussy. It felt like he was in your stomach, pushing so far in. 
Pussy clenching around him due to the pressure it was pushing inside, ''si-sir'' is all you can mumble out. Watching his helmet move back up to view your face, waiting for you to carry on whilst his dick was so far in you that it almost hurt. ''I... can- can't'' you say with half shut eyes.
One of his hands moved off your hips and he held your cheek, ''what's wrong ad'ika?'' his voice full of faux sympathy. Your face just slightly tightens as he pulls out and then forcibly shoves his cock back in deep, a choked breath managing to fall out your mouth. ''Is it too deep for your little pussy to handle?'' You could feel him smirking behind the helmet, maybe it was time to give him some attitude again.
''W-what is that you go-going deep? Weak'' you mumble.
Oh maker, that was a decision. Boba's hand travels down to your neck, holding your throat hard, his shoulders tensing. ''Just when I thought you were being a good girl for me, you pull that?'' Feeling his length pull back, before quickly driving into your cunt. His thrusts now fast and deep, any moans you were trying to keep down were instantly blocked by his grip on your throat. 
Your body felt like it was on fire, he had never fucked you like this before, you couldn't tell if this was part of the 'game' or this is him showing how rough he can really be but just hasn't showed you yet. The way he was treating your body was like magic, you had never felt so good during sex before like this. Using everything he knew you enjoyed but cranked up to 11.
He removed the hand off your hip and slowly trailed down to your clit, his thumb running over it causing your hips to rise without control. His fingers pressed harder on your throat as he said ''ah, none of that. Keep them down.'' So you try to force your hips back down but it was hard to do so as he ran his thumb over your clit again and again.
Shit, you were already getting close again. The pit starting to fill up again.
''Kriff you wanna cum again?'' He says almost mockingly. You can only nod, looking at him through half lidded eyes. ''Say it then slut.''
His hand loosened off your throat and landed back on your hip. Taking a deep breath in, swallowing before you say ''please... let me cum again.''
However you are met with a slap across your face. Your eyes fly open as he once again grabs your face. ''I've already had to tell you once, 'let me cum again', what?''
''Please let me cum again, sir'' you say, glaring at him as you do so. You didn't even mean to not use the title, you just forgot as you were more focused on wanting to cum.
''Fine, but this is the last time you're cumming tonight'' Boba groaned. He lifted your legs up a bit to wrap around his waist, pulling your bodies even closer. One hand resting on your waist as his fingers dug in again whilst his other thumb went back to running over your clit. Then he started the fast motions of his hips rocking back into yours.
You felt your pussy then tightens around him, ''g-gonna... really close'' you whimper.
His fingers push harder into your flesh, more bruises to deal with most likely. He starts doing little circles around your clit, your legs start to tighten around him, ''wait'' he orders. Your eyes start to fill with tears, you were right there. He just needed to say the words. You couldn't hold back much longer.
''Please sir'' you almost cry. It was almost getting too much.
He thrusts deep into you, then pulling back out before say ''cum'' as he fucks you hard. A loud moan escapes you as your eyes rolls back, pussy choking his cock as you cum hard around him. The tears run down your face, landing on the table beneath you. ''Such a good girl for me'' Boba praises as stops rubbing your clit, his hand joining your waist like the other.
Him holding your body tightly under him, fucking you hard and fast through your orgasm. Your legs begin to shake and tighten around him. ''Come on, just hold out a bit longer for me, princess. Let me fill this pretty pussy full of my cum, let me claim you.''
You let out a shaky breath, ''please'' is all you can mutter. You wanted him to cum in you so badly, but fuck you were tired and cummed out. You feel your body may give up if he carries on for much longer.
Boba just speeds up, you can feel his cock start to throb inside you, it somehow feeling thicker. He was trying to chase his own high, clearly close himself.
''Fill me with yo-your cum mister... bounty hunter'' you moan.
It was like something switched within him. His fingers dug even deeper into you, somehow, whilst his thrusts started to become messy. ''Fuck'' he moaned out before you felt your walls become covered in his warm cum. The thrusts slowed down, however his grip was still tight. You could feel him twitching inside you, getting every drop of cum out of him into you. 
Then you felt it, the excess cum already dripping out your pussy. How much did he cum? Feeling it run past your ass and either landing on the table or floor, you weren't even sure where your body was. Your legs slowly started to drop from Boba's waist, dangling off the table. You heard him let out a deep breath before he pulled out, his cock covered in both of your releases.
His hands let go of your hips, then your back arches again as two of his fingers enter your abused pussy, ''can't let any of this cum go to waste'' he groans as he shoves it deep inside you. You let out a broken moan, you were too tired for this now, you needed to rest.
Boba's visor connected with your eyes again, ''awe did I break my bounty?'' You decided to give in, you were satisfied with your little game, so you just nod. ''Good'' his smirk auditable through the helmet. Pulling his fingers out before he moved back from your body, ''stay there'' he ordered before you watched him disappear into the fresher. You did attempt to sit up but fuck your body was tired, so you just lay there as the sweat ran off your back onto the table.
When Boba returns he is holding the same small cloth he tends to use when you fuck on his ship. He stood between your legs as he gently cleaned your cunt. Your body did flinch due material being a little rough on your sensitive parts, but you just tried to stay still for him. He was always so caring when it came to this side, no matter how deep he was clearly into character, he still wanted to make you feel safe after.
Once all the cum was cleared he placed the cloth down on the table, then he gently helped you sit up. Your head swayed a little, but you were okay, just sore and tired. However the hissing sound of his helmet coming off woke you up. 
You meet his beautiful brown eyes and smile, ''hi.''
He cups your cheek as he chuckles back at you ''hi? I've been here the whole time.'' 
''I know, but I missed your face'' you reply as you rest your hands on his chest. ''Can't see what you're thinking behind that bucket.'' You lean your face closer, ''or do this'' before placing a soft kiss on his lips. He holds your face to his, just kissing each other softly and lovingly.
He pulls back enough to say ''did you enjoy all that though? I wasn't too rough or mean with you?''
You smile as you shake your head, ''no I really enjoyed it Boba.''
Another kiss is planted on your lips as he cradles your head, ''I'm glad. Now let's get you covered so we can get you into a proper bath at the Palace.''
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immortalarizona · 1 year ago
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Died With a Hammer in His Hand: Unpacking the Myth of John Henry 
“John Henry said to his captain:  ‘You are nothing but a common man,  Before that steam drill shall beat me down,  I’ll die with my hammer in my hand.’”  — “John Henry, the Steel Driving Man,” recounted by W. T. Blankenship 
John Henry is one of America’s most well-known mythic heroes, immortalized in song, statue, postage stamp, and multiple movies (including a 2000 Disney animated short film which I vividly remember watching in elementary school). But if you’re unfamiliar with the legend, here’s a brief summary. 
John Henry was a freed slave who found himself working for a railroad company in the years following the Civil War as a steel driver. His job was to drive a steel spike into rock so that dynamite could be placed in the resulting hole, thus opening up a tunnel through the Appalachians. 
John Henry was the best on his crew, and he took pride in his work—so when a white salesman brought in a steam-powered drill, claiming that it could drill better than any man, he decided to challenge that claim. Henry entered into a contest with the machine to see who could carve out the deepest hole in the mountain in a single day. 
His victory cost him his life. 
Henry’s wife—sometimes named Polly Ann, sometimes named Lucy, sometimes not named at all—went to visit him on his deathbed that evening. In many versions of the ballad, Henry’s last words are a request for a glass of water. In other versions, he asks his wife to be true to him when he’s dead, or to do her best to raise their son. Many accounts say that he’s buried by a railroad, where “Every locomotive come roarin’ by, / Says there lays that steel drivin’ man” (lyrics from Onah L. Spencer). 
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Bronze statue of John Henry near Talcott, West Virginia, sculpted by Charles Cooper.
The general consensus among historians now seems to be that the ballad of John Henry is one such legend that has its roots in historical fact, although the particulars are long obscured by the centuries that have since passed. Henry was born into slavery in the 1840s or 50s, either in North Carolina or Virginia (some accounts of the ballad lend credence to the latter claim). As for how John Henry found himself working for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway company, University of Georgia history professor Scott Reynolds Nelson posits in his book Steel Drivin’ Man that the man was sentenced to ten years in a Virginia prison for theft at only nineteen years of age, and that he was among many prisoners leased out by the state for labor. 
Did you know that the 13th Amendment makes an exception for slavery which is used “as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted”? (This practice continues to this day, and has become an industry worth tens of billions of dollars. Louisiana State Penitentiary, also known as Angola or simply “The Farm,” is a good place to begin if you’re wanting to look into chain gangs further.) John Henry the legend was a free worker who took on the backbreaking, often dangerous work of railroad labor under his own power and could demand any wage for his work, but John Henry the man may have lived and died in neoslavery. 
Speaking of Henry’s death, most retellings of the myth say that he died of sheer exhaustion. Some add in the detail that it was his heart that gave out because he worked himself too hard. However, alternate theories have been proposed for how the man died. Some historians say it was a stroke that killed him, while others posit silicosis. 
It’s this latter hypothesis which I find most intriguing. For those who aren’t familiar with it, the American Lung Association describes silicosis as “a lung disease caused by breathing in tiny bits of silica, a common mineral found in sand, quartz and many other types of rock.” It’s been an occupational hazard for construction workers since, well, the time of John Henry. What I find interesting are the implications for the narrative if the real Henry died of silicosis. In the folk ballad, Henry causes his own death by working himself too hard. On the other hand, the ones at fault if the man died of silicosis would be his employers—the ones responsible for the dangerous conditions he worked in. 
So why would John Henry’s cause of death change during the transition from fact to legend? 
The answer, as with many other fictionalized accounts of historical events, is that it simply makes for a more effective story. But not just that—a more effective message. So what might the ballad be trying to tell those who listen to it? 
First, let’s think about who this song was sung by and for. The ballad of John Henry is a work song, its rhythm meant to help railroad workers stay and strike in sync, in the same way a drumbeat helps soldiers march in step. It’s been sung by railroad workers, miners, construction workers, chain gangs, and country musicians. At its core, then, the ballad is a song of and for the American working class—specifically those people doing the same sort of backbreaking physical labor as John Henry himself. Many of these laborers would have been Black, and likely former slaves—especially when it came to Southern chain gangs. (See my above note about how American slavery was only mostly abolished, and then think about why the U.S. has one of the highest incarceration rates in the world. . . but I digress.) 
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An oil painting of John Henry by Frederick Brown. 
We’ve established that John Henry is a hero for working-class Americans during the time of the Second Industrial Revolution. But what sort of hero is he? Is he like Achilles, a paragon of his country’s values and an example for the audience to aspire to? Or is he an Icarus, a cautionary tale sung so the audience won’t repeat his mistakes? 
The answer depends on who’s telling the story. 
Onah L. Spencer is the source for one version which emerged from a Black community in Cincinnati, Ohio. When he recounted the lyrics to Guy B. Johnson for the latter’s 1929 book John Henry: Tracking Down a Negro Legend, he also stated that the song was used to motivate workers: “. . . if there was a slacker in a gang of workers it would stimulate him with its heroic masculine appeal.” 
In cases such as Spencer’s crew, then, John Henry’s death is presented as glorious, and Henry is seen as admirable for working so hard that it kills him. Here, he’s a good example. Taken to the extreme, the Achillean Henry encourages fellow workers to follow in his footsteps—to keep pushing themselves harder and harder until they finally keel over. 
This message doesn’t benefit the workers passing it along; it benefits the employers profiting from their labor. This, I think, is where the story blurs the line between myth and propaganda. And while the ballad of John Henry certainly isn’t singlehandedly responsible for the American tendency to overwork ourselves, it does reflect our attitudes about work in a way that’s worth unpacking. To me, this reeks of the Puritan work ethic. The belief was that you had to be working as often as you could; if you didn’t, the devil would be able to influence you. The Puritans were one of America’s foundational cultural influences—of course those values would have influenced the ballad of John Henry. 
Henry is a hero because he worked himself to death. If we see him as a good example, what does this say about the effects that capitalism has had on American attitudes? About the internalized belief that our worth as humans only comes from what we can contribute to the economy? Why do we see death from exhaustion as a fitting end for a former slave? 
Then again, maybe we’re not supposed to. 
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A lithograph of John Henry, from the series American Folk Heroes, by William Gropper. 
Remember how I noted earlier that many of the laborers who first sang Henry’s ballad would themselves have been former slaves? It’s important because there’s a long history of American slaves using work songs as a tool of resistance against their oppressors, and these Black laborers—these “freed” slaves—would have carried that tradition with them into the Second Industrial Revolution. 
The ballad of John Henry, then, might have been sung with the intent of helping other workers survive the brutal conditions on the railroads. Here, Henry becomes an Icarus—a warning of what happens if you push yourself too hard. One version of the ballad recorded by Edward Douglas of the Ohio State Penitentiary contains lyrics which suggest that not every Henry was meant to be emulated. 
“John Henry started on the right-hand side,  And the steam drill started on the left.  He said, ‘Before I’d let that steam drill beat me down,  I’d hammer my fool self to death,  Oh, I’d hammer my fool self to death.’” 
Don’t do what John Henry did, this version warns the audience. Be wiser than he was. Don’t push yourself quite so hard. Think of the people you’d be leaving behind if you’re not careful. 
Perhaps even the creation of this mythos was an act of defiance in and of itself. At this point, I think it bears mentioning that I myself am not Black and can only hypothesize based on what I’ve heard from people who are, but I see something radical in the act of raising up one of your own as your hero rather than venerating the people you’ve been told are superior to you. 
Remember, John Henry’s contest was versus a white man’s machine. It costs him everything, but he triumphs over the expectations of that steam drill salesman and proves his worth as a laborer and a person. John Cephas, a blues musician from Virginia who was interviewed by NPR for a report on John Henry back in 2002, had this to say of the myth: 
“It was a story that was close to being true. It’s like the underdog overcoming this powerful force. I mean even into today when you hear it (it) makes you take pride. I know especially for black people, and for people from other ethnic groups, that a lot of people are for the underdog.” 
Americans love underdog stories. Our own national origin myth is one! John Henry’s assertation of power and skill, the ballad’s declaration that Black people have the right to be proud of themselves too. . . no wonder this myth has resonated with so many people. No wonder it’s survived for a century and a half. 
In this light, then, John Henry once again becomes a hero for us, the audience, to emulate. In the fight against oppression, endurance like Henry’s becomes key. Justice is almost never won quickly. The odds stacked against us may seem impossible, but it’s worth trying anyways, even if we have to fight to our dying breaths. 
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Artwork of John Henry as a defense worker by James Daugherty. 
John Henry has meant and been many things to a lot of people in the past two centuries. A representative of capitalist exploitation, a cautionary tale for workers, an inspiration to oppressed people in America, even a communist icon—but I’d like to take a moment to talk about what his story means to me. It’s not something I’ve seen discussed in my research, and I think it’s worth exploring. 
John Henry reflects fears of workers during the Second Industrial Revolution who saw how technology was evolving—how machines were being created that could do their jobs not just faster, but cheaper, because you don’t have to pay a machine like you would a person. They feared that they would be replaced, and that they would be left destitute while their former bosses grew richer and richer. And despite the centuries between us, this is a fear that I can understand. 
Often, I feel it myself. 
As an artist existing in online spaces during this new influx of AI-generated “art” and writing, I have witnessed many fears that we will be replaced by AI. Yes, there is a certain human quality to art that a generative learning model cannot replicate, but who’s to say that the much-vaunted free market will care? We can hope that art as a profession will survive, but we just don’t know. 
In John Henry’s struggle, I see my own. In the steam drill salesman, I see tech bros on the platform formerly known as Twitter showing off their latest batch of beautiful, hollow, AI-generated “art.” I see John Henry’s passion, his pride, his triumph. 
And I see hope. 
By his life and death, the mythic John Henry reassures me that human beings aren’t so easy to replace after all. He tells me that machines can be defeated. That one day, my vindication as an artist and writer will come, and the world will see our worth. 
The ballad of John Henry has endured like a mountain for a hundred and fifty years, and I hope it will survive for hundreds more—that John Henry’s hammer will continue to ring true throughout the ages. But in the midst of American mythos, it’s important not to lose sight of the historical facts behind it. Legends are interesting and inspirational and wonderful, but the real stories have something to tell us, too. 
Don’t forget to listen. 
Works Cited 
American Lung Association - Silicosis 
Ballad of America - This Old Hammer: About the Song 
Constitution of the United States - Thirteenth Amendment 
Encyclopedia Britannica - John Henry 
Flypaper by Soundfly - The Lasting Legacy of the Slave Trade on American Music 
Folk Renaissance - John Henry: Hero of American Folklore 
How Stuff Works - Was There a Real John Henry? 
ibiblio.org - John Henry: The Project 
National Park Service - The Superpower of Singing: Music and the Struggle Against Slavery 
NPR - Present at the Creation: John Henry 
NPR - Talk of the Nation: The Untold History of Post-Civil War ‘Neoslavery’ 
PBS - Mercy Street Revealed Blog - Singing in Slavery: Songs of Survival, Songs of Freedom 
Prof. Scott Reynolds Nelson - Steel Drivin’ Man: John Henry, the Untold Story of an American Legend 
World Population Review - Incarceration Rates by Country 2024 
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sweetbabymantykes · 1 year ago
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Actually, Dhelmise isn't a single celled organism, that's a common misconception. Seaweed is a macroalgae, which is a multicellular form of algae. Single celled marine algae are diatoms, too tiny to see with the naked eye and also kinda what glass comes from I think?? I dunno I only know about the big stuff.
That said, research is still being done in regards to what type of seaweed Dhelmise should be classified as. While it seems many will develop a preference for green algae, it's rare for them to consist of that alone; most will still have traces of brown and red algae, and records exist of specimens that opted more for those than the usual green. Oh, but no correlation has been found between algae type and their color, I should mention— trying to figure out how and why exceedingly rare red Dhelmise form is an entirely different can of Orthworms, let me tell you. (Not as difficult as finding a way to ghost and anchor-proof a pokébean container, though...)
The issue is already complex just by virtue of the fact that they technically consist of multiple different organisms in the genetic sense, such as, say, both dead man's fingers and giant kelp. It's like trying to classify lichens. The real kicker is that the species consistently shares the same general body plan and shape, even between populations that primarily utilize entirely different types of macroalgae.
In fact, depictions of them from hundreds of years ago, when they were first encountered by sailors, share a remarkable amount of similarity in basic shape. Though, they did apparently vary in size to a greater degree; some used rocks and driftwood and would be small compared to today's average, usually described as shorter than a human. Others may have made use of entire Wailmer and Wailord falls— perhaps the remains of their unfortunate prey— if some other depictions and descriptions from those times are to be believed. (It is important to take into account the possibility of embellished stories and the like, as interesting as the latter sounds...)
Dhelmise really are quite the mystery, even among other ghost types! It still isn't well understood what causes them to form in the wild to begin with. We know from captive individuals that they are capable of asexual reproduction through fragmentation, similar to many other types of seaweed, but that creates genetic clones and wouldn't explain the diversity amongst wild populations. The prevailing theory involves souls lost at sea, but there is little conclusive evidence to support that.
Ah, I should probably stop rambling on about this now, though. I tend to get a bit carried away, which is weird given how I used to not be interested at all in this sort of thing... What getting reverse chosen by your first Pokémon while visiting family on the coast does to a mfer. Sorry 'bout the wall of text!
I feel like a fraud. I got a fact about aquatic pokemon wrong. It's fine, it's fine, I can still keep my reputation, Dhelmise isn't a water type, it's a grass type. And I actually don't know that much about kelp to begin with, so I guess that's what my problem is, haha.
That aside, man. I could listen to people tell me about other pokemon forever, don't apologize! My sister is really into ghost types but she's not really chatty, either, so it's really nice to hear about them from someone else. Previous Johto anon in a fight with your dad- give this a read! Everyone else, too, I had no idea about their historical 'chains'...
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polkadotsunshine · 10 months ago
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Preparation and Flexibility
Seeing a total solar eclipse requires both preparation and flexibility.
First is the equipment. My family has a collection of welder's glass so we can watch the sun before totality. It's a high quality, comfortable, and durable version of eclipse glasses. We use rubber bands to fix the glass to binoculars, so we can quickly remove the filter during totality. We've also fitted a perfectly parallel straw to our telescope's reflex sight so we can align it to the sun*.
*Spotting the sun with the naked eye would cause physical harm yet welder's glass blocks out so much light you couldn't see the sight with it on. By aligning the shadow of the straw on your hand, so that the sunlight comes straight as a white circle, you can aim the telescope.
Next comes the location. Years in advance, we analyze historical weather data to determine a path along totality with the least likelihood of cloud coverage. We're not looking for a location to sit in; we want a road we can travel along to escape dense clouds. Months in advance, we change our plans from Mexico to Texas. Days in advance, we change our plans from Texas to New York. Even as we drive through the Adirondacks the day of the eclipse, we watch the radar to adjust course. Even as we set up our telescope, we watch for changes in cloud density and the direction of the wind. We settle by Tupper Lake, mentally calculating how long it would take to pack everything up and drive east.
Fetching supplies from the car, we discover someone parked less than an inch away from our passenger’s side. We shuffle through the driver's side doors, over to the other half of the car, and accept the circumstance. As my dad waits in line for a portable toilet, someone points out our neighbor’s parking job and offers astonishment then condolences. As my mom gets a blanket from the car, someone rushes up to her, exclaiming they witnessed the parking job in horror, and they complain about the Cornell bumper sticker on their car. The third time someone runs up to us, it's the driver himself. He profusely apologizes.
We get to know the guy: Jordan. My mom asks about Cornell, since that's where she and my dad met. His daughter went to Cornell. He asks where I went to college. The conversation goes from there. It turns out his wife is home sick and he went to finish the trip alone. He's visibly jealous of our telescope. We adopt him into our party. He corrects his parking job and we share our equipment with him. I teach with him the little I remember from what my dad had taught me. 
The anticipation builds. For a while, it's just a relaxing day outside. The moon hasn’t even begun to cross the sun. I look at sunspots through our telescope and ask my dad how many times the size of Earth they are. I read my book and listen to the lake lap up the shore. A son plays catch with his father. A group of college friends yell over cards. I watch Canadian geese swim around a family in kayaks.
The anticipation builds. My dad shouts, "First contact!" as he checks the telescope. We lazily look through our glass and idly remark interest that such a small sliver is visible without magnification. I eat beef jerky and check my phone. We occasionally look to the sun and make small talk over how fast it's moving. I walk to a nearby McDonald's to use the bathroom; I don't want totality to be interrupted. As the sun wanes, I play with a colander to find the focal points of each pinhole camera it creates, speckling our folding table with polkadot sunshine in the shape of tiny crescents.
The anticipation builds. It starts getting dark, like twilight. Automated lights flick on along the lake. The geese come to shore. My mom identifies the nightsong of birds in the park. Totality is in 10 minutes. The lighting shifts from twilight to unnatural; a dimness creeps from every direction, somehow illuminating the now-muted colors of the world. Our brains struggle to make sense of it. It's cold. My grandparents' dog hides between my brother’s legs. He comforts her.
It's fast. My dad points across the lake. It's the shadow of the moon, screaming towards us at over 1000 mph. The clouds dissipate inside its cold beam of darkness. He points out Venus, visible to the naked eye. The crowd clamors. The last light of the sun forms a brilliant white diamond atop a ring, surrounding the pitch black moon in the sky. I've never seen contrast so strong in nature. I shout because Jordan shouts and Jordan shouts because I shout.
Each moment is heavy. Totality will begin soon. Totality will end soon. It will be years before I get the mere possibility of seeing anything like this ever again. I tell myself to make each second count. I won't waste time taking pictures. I won't waste any time at all. I look up.
There is a hole in the sky. The stark white corona tinges aquamarine, fringed by red Baily's beads bleeding through the mountains on the moon. My emotions overpower prepared thought. Yellow orange sunsets surround every horizon. Anywhere I look is a beautiful moment that can't last. Everything feels wonderfully wrong. Red plasma arcs at a magnitude incomprehensible; three solar flare prominences push their way to my attention. I see the eclipse. I cry.
And then it was over. I had counted down to this day for 7 years. It marked the end of an era; bookending the as-of-now most important years of my life. It landed on a day I made up layered sentimental feelings for. The eclipse was beautiful because I forced myself to savor every memory, yet despite all my plans, for those 3 minutes and 31 seconds, it became something else. I allowed myself to fall in love with whatever came my way - and I found more than I had ever expected.
Seeing a total solar eclipse requires both preparation and flexibility. The sight is gorgeous of course, but for me, experiencing a total solar eclipse is a communal ritual. It is my dad showing me how to align his telescope. It is the tips my aunts and uncles exchanged when deciding where to go. It is the picnic I had with my grandmother. It is the unlikely friend we made. The anticipation built from our collective preparation allowed me to follow my central directive: I lived in the moment, no matter where that took me.
After all, isn’t everything amazing?
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unclefathersantateddy · 1 year ago
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BB asks: 2 and 12!
These were some MEATY questions, thank you so much for asking!!! You always give the best asks lmao
2.1. favorite non-belcher character (and why)?
I'm gonna class teddy as a belcher here otherwise it's gonna be an obvious answer asdfghjkl. Man this is HARD, I like so many for very different reasons. Honestly it might be Zeke or Tami, which I never expected! I absolutely adore Tammy's phrases (Tammyisms? Lmao), like "snorgasm", "boob punch", "crap attack" - if anyone has a list of them all please may I have it🙏 - I also love how emotionally intelligent Tammy can be (a detailed explanation here). As for Zeke, pretty similar reasons! Zeke's relationship with Jimmy Jr is one I find really interesting. Zeke is obsessed with wrestling/fighting like a Typical Lad™ however, he also pushes J-Ju to be more emotionally literate. For example S9E3 Tweentrepreneurs;
J-Ju: one day Zeke wasn't around and I was bored
Zeke: lonely?
J-Ju: no, more bored
Zeke: sad?
J-Ju: no, bored!
Emotional illiteracy causes the inability to understand one's own emotions, listen to others, as well as empathising with their emotional stages. Thus often leading to decreased engagement with reality, resulting in boredom. Here we see Zeke teaching J-Ju new ways of describing how he (Jimmy Jr) may feel when he (Zeke) isn't around. Encouraging emotional literacy and in turn encouraging emotional responses to reality, a pattern which with consistency can prevent 'emotional stagnation' that can manifest as boredom! Whilst Zeke probably wouldn't be able to explain what he's doing, the fact he has the recognition of when to do it is an incredible skill for a 13 year old!
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2.2. What’s your favorite episode and why?
So this is the question that's taken my days to answer this. I could not decide at ALL. But I think I have finally landed on S13E16 What a (April) Fool Believes! As for why, the first and foremost reason is the sheer happiness I get from hearing Bob finally day 'got you Mr Fischoeder!". There is SO much joy in H Jon's voice when he says it. My body biologically responds to it and fills me up with the same glee that babies should do (for my age, anyway). But the entire episode is just feel good, nothing bad actually happens to anyone at any point (iirc). It's just an easy, joyful, watch!
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12.1. what’s your favorite quote from the show? 
Ohhhh man. Ooohhhhh MAN. This is so tough. There are so many that I can't think of any sjdjakdk. The most prevalent that comes to mind right now is from S14E5 Bully-ieve It or Not, when Trev charges Bob $7 for a glass of water and then goes "got you! classic me". Just the "classic me" tickles my soul I really respect the audacity LMAO.
12.2. If you joined one of the town’s groups (Wagstaff staff, carnies, knitters, one-eyed snakes, etc.), which would you join?
This is going to be an obvious one but the carnies! I come from the Concrete Jungle™ (an industrially significant city at that), so the idea of living in a tiny rural town that has carnivals seems to whimsical to me! I suppose it's a yearning for something I've never experienced, honestly! Also coming from a very Individualistic-society country, seeing a more community based society fills me with so much serotonin!!! Carniapolis is just JOY materialised!!!!! AAAAAAAA. It gives me so much drawing motivation and creativity, each and every facet of it! (I feel silly for this jakdjskdjsk)
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iheartchv · 11 months ago
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Hi! I was hoping to ask you for a match-up please.
I’m  a 24-year-old Latina, half Dominican and half Mexican. Born in New York City and raised in Texas. 
I’m 5’5” with brown eyes, tan skin, and long wavy dark brown-black hair that reaches my butt. I have a fluffy tummy, thick thighs, big boobs, and a decent ass. I wear glasses and I have a couple beauty marks near my mouth.
I’m an INFJ and a Capricorn. I’m bisexual.
I’m introverted. I have social anxiety and ADHD. I’m a loner.
I’m a Creative Writing major. I constantly have my headphones on with love songs blasting. I love dancing whenever I get the chance to at a family party or a school dance.
I love to bake. Chocolate chip cookies and vanilla cupcakes are my specialities.
My love languages are physical touch and quality time. I love to give cookies with cuddles and kisses and sweet words.
In public, I can come off standoffish, but when you get to know me, I’m actually just anxious, shy, and very sweet. 
I love your writing! You deserve to have a great day and a lovely life! Thank you!
🤔 I'll match you with...
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish 🧼
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I think Soap would be your match
He's the opposite of you
But you both still have some common interests that will instantly create a bond between you
I can see you and him dancing
Perhaps a dance contest could happen, if you're feeling competitive?
Soap thought you were cute and tried to get your attention by complimenting you without being too flirty
"You look great today." with a smile
"...Thanks" you reply with a tiny smile
That wasn't exactly what he was expecting
Maybe he should've said pretty or beautiful
But would you find that weird?
He had so many questions in his head
He knew about your anxiety and didn't want to make you uncomfortable
When that didn't work he tried to talk to you
He really wanted to get to know you
He'd pull/drag you away to a place of privacy
He wanted a one on one with you
"I know you're probably used to being a loner... but..."
His hand would gently squeeze your shoulder
"I just want you to know... that I'm here for you. Don't be afraid of coming to me for anything."
"I don't care what time it is or what you need, I'll be there for you."
"You've got me as a friend, and I've got your back"
Soap wanted to tell you so badly how much he thought of you and cared about you
But he'd wait for you, if that's what it took
🤍
As time went by, you found yourself wanting to be around Soap more
He listened to you rant or vent
He even listened to your brainstorming ideas for essay assignments
And even helped you out with some of your essays
He was fun to talk to
He knew how to make you laugh and smile
Loves your baking
Nothing like staying up real late with school work, cookies, and Soap being there for you/to help you out
You recently have been spacing out/dreaming with thoughts of Soap and you
Your heart now races when he gives you a smirk, a small wink
Even he's flirtatious compliments bring blush to your cheeks
You've fallen for him
When you were comfortable enough and knew that what you were feeling was real, you told him how you felt
He was ecstatic; he felt the same way for you
Has been for a long while
He's glad to have waited and gained your trust
And your heart
This man here... oh he craves physical touch
He wants it too but will give it to you as well
Will use your thighs as a pillow
While staring up into your eyes
Loves it when you stroke his hair
It just feels good
He would also be a great kisser
Gives sweet kisses, to slow and lingering, and passionate/wild
Whatever you're in the mood for
Calls you princess, sweetheart, babygirl, every cute name under the sun
"I love you, baby. I'm never going to let you go"
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