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chlorinecake · 1 year ago

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— 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 | 𝐩.𝐬𝐡 ׅ ㅤ֢ ㅤׄㅤ .

▹ PAIRING: long distance boyfriend sunghoon x f. reader

▹ WORD COUNT: 2.8k — 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝑒𝒹

▹ SUMMARY: What better way to celebrate the return of contact between you and your long distance boyfriend than with some good ole sexy time ?

▹ WARNINGS: SOFT DOM SUNGHOON who can’t help but tease you for struggling to take his cock after going without it for so long, kissing, somewhat inexperienced reader x clingy hoon, throat fucking, choking (m. receiving), tit + nipple play, cheek pinching, spitting, petnames (angel, puppy, princess, good girl), switch dynamics, rough unprotected sex, that’s about it !!

Sunghoon had just step foot inside your shared apartment upon finally getting to see you after returning from his lengthy business trip.

Meeting him at the front door, your boyfriend instantly dropped his belongings at the sight of you, locking the door promptly before pulling you into the biggest hug his wingspan could muster.

That's when you felt him take your chin in his grasp, turning your cheek to face him before licking a long stripe along your skin with his tongue.

"Oh my fucking God," you shriek at the sudden sensation, eliciting a fit of giggles from your lovestruck boyfriend, "so much for saying hello first, you freak."

"Sorry, baby," he chuckles, kissing you on the cheek as he mumbles, "couldn't help myself when you look so delicious..."

"What're you, a dog?"

"I can be," he smirks this time, playfully raising his eyebrows at you.

"Damn... you're getting real comfortable with the idea of being anything but a grown man, huh Hoon?" You question through a squeaky voice given how tightly he held you against him.

"I'm literally one second away from biting your cheeks right now..."

You scoff at the desperate nature of his words, "You're ridiculous..."

"Yup, and it's your fault I have such emotional issues," he shrugs, eyes taking in the view of your face under the dim apartment lighting, and boy did you look amazing-

"Tell me about it," you roll your eyes, which only makes his smile widen, displaying the faint impression of his dimples.

"And being around youuuu is my therapy..."

"Wonderful-"

"And I would really appreciate it if you stood on your tippy toes to hug me closer and scratch my back a little bit when you do it, too," your boyfriend blinks now, batting his feathery eyelashes at you as you sigh in compliance, not being able to withstand his needy antics.

"C'mere, puppy," you say, making him blush through a bitten lip as he loosened his hold around you so you could return the hug this time.

Cute and sexy, you thought to yourself... your favorite combination on your favorite person...

As of today, it had been ten whole days since you last saw your boyfriend, and the distance was really starting to take a toll on his physical willpower.

The reason behind your brief separation was work obligations on Sunghoon’s behalf, but that still didn’t stop him from having to see your face or hear your voice every single night.

You remember just the other night over FaceTime that he brought up the idea of e-sex, being so pent up with sexual tension that his brain could hardly function...

"Hmmm," he hummed against you, making your heart swell until you realized his cold nose was nuzzled against the top of your head.

"You're sniffing me, aren't you?"

"Mhm," he said, kissing the spot there, "you look sweet... taste sweet... smell sweet..."

"Thank you?" You said while giggling, only to shriek slightly when you felt one of his hands grope your tit, his free hand guiding your hips against his pelvis.

"God, you even sound sweet," he practically groaned, smirking now at the way you tried squirming away from his touch, but he didn't plan on letting you go just yet.

“Looks like someone’s needier than usual,” you say through mumbled words, given the way his soft lips are attacking yours, slowly kissing you into submission.

“I just can’t help myself when I get like this,” he hums, tilting his head as he keeps his lips moving against yours. "I missed you so much, angel.”

“Missed you more,” you return within the contact, letting your hand find his face now as his touch travels from your hips to your thighs, his strength guiding your legs around his waist.

“Not possible,” he smirks, guiding you to your shared bedroom, where he plopped you on the mattress, only to cage you beneath his frame as the passionate kiss continued.

And the room is a mess in this moment, considering how you were too lazy to do any cleaning without Sunghoon’s help, but he doesn’t mind.

The cluttered nature somehow helps him feel more cozy, anyway.

You broke away from his lips, looking him straight in the eyes as you whispered:

“I think you’re wrong about that, Hoonie.”

“Oh, am I now?” He challenged back, pinching your cheek between his thumb and index finger, to which you winced, smacking his hand away.

“Prove it to me,” he went on, holding eye contact as a familiarly menacing smirk overtook his face.

“Always so competitive,” you tsk, “but I’ll play along.”

That’s when you grab the neckline of his shirt, pulling him onto the bed while telling him to sit tight as you got situated between his thighs, doing away with the leather belt he wore.

And he doesn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what you’re about to do next—getting comfortable on your knees before your hands went to find your hair to tie it off into a ponytail.

"No, no, no, keep it down; it looks nice,” your boyfriend protests, making your hands slowly retreat from your head, “and you look way fucking hotter with those glasses on in person, too.”

“You say that like it almost surprises you?” You tease, but only as a way to stop yourself from gawking at his dick that was now out and in the open, free from the confines of his pants with the prettiest little vein trailing the underside.

His tip glistened with a pearly sheen, the sight alone making your core warm up slightly.

“It doesn’t,” Sunghoon answers dryly, especially now that you were taking his length into your grasp, “but that’s still not going to stop me from praising my pretty girl.”

“Aww,” you coo while stroking him slightly, the cum leaking from his tip helping to keep everything lubricated. “You’re too sweet, baby.”

“Yeah?” He asks with a smirk, hips tensing up and relaxing given the stimulation your hand was providing, “Why don’t you give me a little taste then?”

You look at him through your glasses with the sluttiest look you can muster, still fisting his shaft in your palm but with slower strokes now as you lower your head, letting your breath just ghost over his burning tip at first.

“C’mon baby, don’t tease,” he says, eyes falling lazy as lust renders his mind an utter mess of fuzz and desperation.

You let your tongue circle his head first, feeling his length twitch in your grasp before you fully sealed your lips around him, your own core throbbing now with all the sounds he was making.

“Take all of it, princess,” he demands, pushing your head down slightly for motivation. “Wanna feel myself in the back of your throat so bad...”

And you hum in response, sending gentle vibrations through his cock that made his thighs tense up.

Sunghoon groans softly, just as you started to bob half of his length with your mouth and stroke the remaining half with your hand.

He could tell that you really wanted to deep throat him, but you still hadn’t warmed up to his size yet.

“You want to prove how much you miss me, right?” He whispers through a shaky breath, drawing your glossy eyes back up to meet his face, cheeks dusted a light pink from his arousal.

You nod your head around him this time, knowing that he would rather you stay right there than move to try speaking properly.

He was just so enthralled by the warmth of you around him, a bit of your own saliva dripping down the corner of your mouth given the way your gag reflex was in hyperdrive right now.

“Good girl,” he smirks, but with furrowed brows, his voice trailing off as his hands found the side of your head, cupping your stuffed cheeks as he whispers, “This is only going to hurt a little bit then.”

That’s when you feel your throat opening now as Sunghoon forces himself in, guiding your head up and down along his shaft as he makes your mouth his personal fuck toy.

And you’re whimpering at the pain, eyes tearing up behind your foggy glasses, but it’s not like you mind. You found his desperation for you to be pretty hot, actually.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, hissing at the way your hands are gripping at his thighs now. “I knew you could take me like a good little slut.”

There’s a little tear trailed down your cheek that he swipes with his thumb, only to throw his head as he keeps using your head, surely bruising your throat somewhere considering all the action he’s putting it through.

“Just hold out a little longer for me, baby; I’m almost there,” he grunts, making your eyes roll in the back of your head as his thrusts grow faster, sloppier, and deeper.

Tapping at his thighs slightly, he knows that’s your usual cue that he’s going a little too far or that you need him to stop for something, and so he does, pulling his dick out of your mouth with a loud and wet smack.

“Was I too rough for you, pretty?” He cues, leaning down to caress your face.

“Not at all,” you say through a raspy, seductive voice, given how sore your throat was feeling.

“So why’d you stop my fun?” He asks, pinching your cheek once again as a way to tease you.

“Because,” you begin, finding his cock with your hand and gripping tightly, just enough to make him wince, “I’m not in the mood to sit here and hump the carpet like a bitch in heat while you destroy my throat.”

He lets out a dry chuckle at your words, trying his best to seem unfazed by the way you’re jerking him off again, up until you spit on the tip, standing up from the ground on wobbly legs.

And your boyfriend lets his back find the bed almost instantly, taking off his jacket and tossing it in the corner as you crawl on top of him, still stroking him in your hand.

“Sorry about that, angel,” he whispers sarcastically, eyes half-lidded and desperate like a hentai wet dream as you straddle him now, slowing down the pumps of your hand. "I guess I just got a little carried away there.”

“Mhm,” you cut him off, releasing his veiny and throbbing cock from your grasp and letting the same hand find his neck, not to choke him but for stability as you straddle his hips.

Your pants are still on at this point, but he does a good job of helping you take them off.

"I bet I can guess the color of your panties now," he smirks as your pants dropped to the floor, revealing your bareness, his eyes widening slightly as he realizes you're not wearing any underwear.

Lining him up with your entrance, you let your weight fall with gravity help you take him.

But his girth is so wide that you have to bite your lip in order to hide your sounds, and he catches onto this, too, finding your hips with his free hands and pushing you most of the way down.

“Mmm,” you mewl, arching your back at the way his tip immediately finds your g-spot in the position.

“What is it, princess? T-t-too much?” He teases, thrusting into you given the delayed movement of your hips.

“I can do it myself, Sunghoon,” you breathe out, the sound of his full name making him raise a brow at you just as your hands now found the mattress, bracing yourself at either side of his head.

“Do what, huh? Fuck me with those weak little knees?” He tsks, rutting up into you once more as a tiny yelp slips past your tired throat. "I didn't think so,” he continued to taunt.

“So mean,” you say, gripping at the sheets now, “you didn't even give me a chance to try...”

"Well, I'm afraid I don't have patience for that today, pretty,” he coos, finding your clothed tits with his hands before teasing your sensitive nipples in between his delicate fingers. “Just let me show you how it's properly done, yea? Promise, I’ll be more gentle this time.”

Struggling to meet his eyes, you couldn’t help but get distracted by how full you felt between your legs, especially with the way he toyed with your tits now, making heat rush from your core to your face.

“I’m not talking to myself, am I princess?” His voice comes out raspy, just as his hand finds your chin, pulling it down so you’d face him.

“S-Sunghoon,” you stammer, being so stuffed to the brim with his deliciously thick cock that you could hardly form a coherent thought right now.

“Go on, baby, I’m listening,” he says in between, sitting up slightly to place a kiss on your jaw. “Want me to take the lead?”

You hate what his condescending words are doing to your mind, but at the same time, his constant teasing was always such a turn-on for you.

“Fine, you insufferable worm,” you manage to say, making him chuckle at the pet name. “I didn’t wanna ride you anyways...”

“Mhm,” he smirks, guiding you to lay on your back now, but being careful not to accidentally pull out of your heat.

You then let out a shriek of pleasurable pain as Sunghoon slams his hips down, thick cocks pounding into your sensitive depths, making your back arch.

“F-fuck,” you whine, digging your nails into his shoulders to which he hisses.

“I’m holding back for you, so you know,” he groans, stalling the pace of his hips as your face obviously scrunches up with every thrust.

“Then don’t,” you say, finding his neck in your hands again as you apply just enough pressure to make him smirk, “fuck me like you mean it...”

He grinds his cock inside you a little harder this time, making your open legs tremble as you held a fierce eye contact with him, not breaking it even as he snapped into you faster now, making you whimper at how good he was fucking you now.

Grabbing your wrist, he moves your hand from his neck, interlacing his fingers with yours before pinning them to the mattress.

“I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to just ask nicely,” he says, a somewhat gentle look on his face despite how rough he was pounding into you, “you could’ve been had me fucking you like this if you weren’t such a brat...”

“Sh-shut up, Hoon,” you hiss, voice coming out in tiny wobbles given the way his forceful thrusts made your tits bounce up and down.

And your glasses are crooked on your face at this point, making him chuckle at how cute you looked while taking his cock, still trying to brat your way out of accepting the fact that you had been just as needy for intimacy with him, too.

“So much for saying thank you,” he huffed, right before releasing his weight from your hands to instead angle your thighs higher in his grip, picking up the pace as his thrusts become faster, harder, and deeper...

“Nghhh-” you whimpered, desperately clinging to his shoulders now as his ego grew with every whimper you let out for him, his own mind practically short-circuiting with the way your slick walls clenched around him now.

Leaning down, Sunghoon lowered his face near yours, swiftly taking off your glasses and tossing them on the pillow before letting his lips sink into yours, humming at the taste of you on his tongue.

“You're lucky I love you,” he slurs with a whisper, making you smile into the contact.

“I love you too, baby,” you return in between your labored breaths, just as your voice was broken by a moan ripping past your throat.

But at this point, Sunghoon couldn't hold back any longer, breaking from the kiss given the way his body shuddered with pleasure now, melting into your touch as you held him impossibly close to you.

“Oh- fuck~,” your boyfriend groaned, nuzzling his face into your neck and leaving a few sloppy kisses there, just as you felt his load burst deep into your cunt.

And as sensitive as he was growing while inside you, he kept thrusting, with no intention of stopping until he felt your thighs shake beside him as you finally reached your high.

With all your squirming, your boyfriend ceased the movement of his hips, collapsing on top of you as your sweaty bodies fought to catch your breaths.

You two lay just like that for a while, Sunghoon's gentle touch caressing the curve of your shoulder while your own delicate fingers moved a few stray hairs out of his face.

“I don't know how I survived ten days without this,” he says to break the silence, making you giggle slightly at his random remark.

“Well y'know what they say... distance makes the heart grow fonder,” you reply, feeling his length slowly leave your walls as he tugs the nearby blanket over your half naked-bodies.

“Uh huh, as if either of us needed any help to feel more fond for each other anyways,” he smirks, placing a feather-light kiss to your shoulder one last time before laying down beside you, basking in the aftermath of your long over-due lovemaking...

Thank you all so much for reading this fic! I haven't really been feeling up to write anything these days, but hopefully you guys still enjoyed reading this nonetheless... Also, here's the link to my ENHYPEN MASTERLIST if you're interested in more works like this!! { PART 1 }

#𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐞’𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 🎂#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #sunghoon smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon ff #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours

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elljayvee · 3 months ago

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today's pro tip about writing children, because I read an author's note apologizing for their 10 year olds sounding unchildlike:

please understand that 10 year old children largely speak like adults. perhaps naive adults with somewhat smaller vocabularies, depending on things like education levels and how much they read, but adults. they may or may not have the same interests as adults, so the topics you get out of them might be different, but you do not have to apologize for 10 year olds in your stories having unchildlike speech.

98% of the difference is that many 10 year olds' voices haven't lowered into adult registers yet. You can absolutely get a cogent, fully-adult-sounding-except-for-being-squeaky lecture on, say, transportation logistics or the function of ATP or detailed wildlife observations or route selection for hill avoidance when biking or any other topic you care to have a 10 year old character speak on.

What you WILL have are behavioral differences from adults, for the most part. Even a rather serious and controlled 10 year old likely cannot maintain their emotional regulation or consistency to the level of an average adult, although they may be better than some adults.

Some example child characters to think about:

Arya Stark in the first season of Game of Thrones is around 10-11.

Anakin Skywalker in The Phantom Menace is 9, and slips into more childish speech when he's being behaviorally childish, but more adult-sounding speech when he's being more serious. I think he's written a little young for his actual age, fwiw.

Kevin McAllister in Home Alone is 8. His behavior is the behavior of an 8 year old, but if you didn't know he was 8, just from reading the script, you could easily believe he was 13 -- and the main thing that prevents you from believing he could be older is that he calls out his own youth and inexperience.

There's just not that much difference in the way kids speak, once they're old enough to know how to speak and have enough experience that their inexperience isn't wildly noticeable at every turn.

#writing

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katelynnwrites · 7 months ago

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Here’s To Hoping You’re Worth All My Time (I Hope You’re Worth My Time) | Lea Schüller

warnings: some swear words, description of migraines in detail

word count: 4451

summary: five months after you and lea break up, you’re convinced you’ll never cross paths with her again. life has a funny way of bringing people back together though.

a/n: realised that if i want to read schülli fics, i have to write them so here we are 😊

The headache started somewhere in the middle of your third class.

Rather gingerly, you rub your temples and try to ignore the pulsing pain. Despite your best efforts, the pain continues to grow till it’s clear that you are going to have one of your full blown migraines.

You get migraines every so often but with have gotten better at managing them over the years. The combination of cutting out caffeine, medication and getting enough sleep have worked so that the truly bad ones, the kind that keeps you incapacitated for hours have become few and far between.

One hasn’t happened for a while and you suppose, with a wince that you were inevitably due for one.

Now that it’s happening though, it is all you can do to text your classmate and tell her you won’t be able to make the rest of your classes.

The bright glare of your phone screen makes your head ache more fiercely. With squinted eyes and more than some difficulty that you read her reply in which she hopes you feel better soon and that she will convey your apologies to the professors.

That being done, you try and fail to focus back on your current class. By the end of it, you are desperate to go home and just lie down with all the lights off.

Normally you would take the bus but today even the thought of it is too much. A ride sharing service would be the quickest way back to your apartment.

The ride itself passes in a blur, nausea has begun to affect you and you spend the twenty minutes back to your apartment concentrating on trying not to throw up.

When the driver drops you off at your apartment, you stutter out a quick thank you before you run up the stairs, taking it two at a time to get to your bathroom.

Just in time too because you gag uncontrollably, whatever is left of your breakfast coming up unpleasantly.

You stay beside the toilet, coughing until your stomach somewhat uneasily settles.

With watering eyes, you stand up shakily to rinse your mouth and then reach for the bottle of Eletriptan that usually sits on the shelf above your sink.

Except that your hand closes around nothing. Your migraine medication isn’t there.

You stare at the empty space uncomprehendingly until it hits you.

It’s at the place where you babysit. Sometimes the parents would pay you extra to stay overnight with their kids when they had late night work functions. Last week you’d stayed over and brought your medication over as a precaution.

The family is nice and you know they would have no problem bringing over your Eletriptan if you asked. The problem is that they are currently on vacation in France.

You can actually picture where you left your bottle of medication. On the counter of their guest bedroom.

Blinking back tears of frustration and pain, you bite your lip. You hadn’t gone through a migraine without medication in years. Especially not one as severe as this.

‘Fuck.’ You say out loud.

‘Fuck.’ You repeat and then do the only thing you can do.

Going into the kitchen, you get a glass of water and take it into your bedroom.

Thankfully, the blinds are already closed so you don’t have to deal with the bright sunlight making your head hurt more than it currently is.

You manage two sips of water and then toe off your shoes, collapsing into bed.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you exhale and inhale, slowly counting to a hundred and then eventually to five hundred.

Everything is okay, you attempt to convince yourself as you start counting from one again.

You ignore the fact that even with your pills, your migraine usually takes an hour to subside. There’s no telling how long it will go on without the medicine.

Another deep breath in and out. Over and over again.

Somewhere in between, you briefly entertain the notion of going to a pharmacy and getting some over the counter migraine medicine instead. But none of that stuff has ever worked for you and even if you are distressed enough to try, you know you are in no condition to leave the house.

At the very least, the fierce ache in your head has not gotten worse. It isn’t better either though. It still feels like someone is stabbing you right between your eyes and god it hurts.

It’s nothing short of excruciating but there is nothing you can do except to keep your eyes closed, remind yourself to keep breathing through the pain and hope for the best.

Then you remember.

You have another bottle of Eletriptan. The one you left at Lea’s place.

Against your will, salty tears slip down your cheeks. Fucking hell.

It’s not as if you can get to it. You’re not able to go over and beg. Even if you are willing to go to that length, your pride would never allow it.

Lea had told you to get out. So you did. The end.

Besides, your ex is probably away for international break or an away game of sorts. The chances are high that she isn’t even in Munich right now.

That’s what you tell yourself as another agonising hour crawls by.

It’s been three hours since you first got back and you don’t know if you can take much more. A particularly harsh throb hits and that makes your decision for you.

With a weak sob, you cave and reach for your phone.

The brightness level is on the lowest setting but the sudden glare still has you scrunching your face in discomfort.

Finding Lea’s contact is as much as you hate it, easy. For some unknown reason, you hadn’t yet been able to bring yourself to delete it.

Tapping on it before you can second guess yourself, you put the call on speaker.

It rings and rings. To the point where you think she won’t answer.

Right when you are ready to admit defeat, a voice comes through, ‘Hello?’

‘Lea?’ You whisper.

‘No sorry, this is Obi. Lea’s not here right now. Can I take a message?’

You hesitate. You remember Obi, Lea’s brunette best friend. She’d been nice to you back when you were dating but telling her that you are practically pleading with Lea for your much needed medicine seems far too personal.

A few seconds of awkward silence pass and then there’s some muffled noise on the other end.

‘Hi it’s Lea. Sorry I took a bit.’

You don’t actually need her to introduce herself. The sound of her voice is etched in your memory, as clear as day.

Pausing again, you wonder if you should really do this. Lea could be stubborn and closed off sometimes but she had never been mean. As bad as things had ended between you both, there is surely no way that the striker’s changed so much that she would be cruel enough to withhold your medication.

That is, if she hadn’t simply thrown it away.

You’re taking too long to decide because the blonde tries again, ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’

‘It’s me.’ You softly answer.

‘Oh.’

She didn’t sound angry. Or annoyed. You’d take that.

‘I-I’m not interrupting anything am I?’

Your ex exhales quietly, ‘We’re kinda in the middle of a gym session.’

‘Sorry I wouldn’t be calling but I-I really need your help. It’s sort of an emergency.’

You wait for her to reply but nothing comes through.

Then rather steadily she asks, ‘What’s the emergency?’

Swallowing the last of your pride you say, ‘Um…Could you please run back to your place and get something for me?’

‘You want me to leave training the day before a big game to go back to my apartment and get something for you?’ Lea slowly states.

Wincing, you forget she can’t see you and nod. It sounds far worse when she puts it like that. Resignedly, you accept your fate of burying yourself back under your blankets and trying your hardest to sleep this migraine off.

‘You’re right. It’s stupid. I’m sorry for calling, I shouldn’t have asked. I’ll just-’

Lea cuts you off, ‘What is it?’

‘What?’

‘What do you need me to get?

You blink in surprise, ‘My Eletriptan. The migraine medication I take. I left a bottle of it at yours and um, never got it back. I don’t have another one presently and I need it.’

The forward lets out a breath and it is enough to have you wondering what the hell you are doing. Asking your ex that you had a far from amicable break up with, for a favour?

Quickly backtracking once more, you rush out, ‘It’s alright. You don’t have to. I’ll figure something out.’

‘No. It’s okay. You need it. I’m assuming you’re at home?’

‘Yeah.’ You breathe, hardly daring to believe your ears.

‘I’ll be there in half an hour. Lie down and close your eyes in the meantime.’

‘Okay.’ You manage.

It’s all you can get out.

Like Lea had requested, you stay laying down and let your eyes slip close.

They fly open again at the realisation that the blue eyed woman is actually coming over. Your apartment is in dire need of a good tidy up, the stress of the past few weeks, no doubt a factor into today’s pounding headache have left you behind in your cleaning.

Lea will definitely see the state of your place, a sharp contrast to her own which had always been neatly organised in the past. You think about getting up and trying to get rid of some of the mess but even the mere act of sitting up makes your head spin.

So you lie back down and keep your attention on breathing through the pain. The Bayern Munich player is just dropping off your bottle of pills. It’s not like she is going to stick around so why should you care?

Except that you do. You have always cared when it comes to Lea Schüller. Such is your weakness for her.

But any sort of movement has your body protesting so you have no choice but to stay very still, not moving from your spot as you drift in your own head. One deep breath in…and one deep breath out.

Till a soft, ‘Hey.’

You automatically try to sit up, a sharp whimper tumbling from your lips as the resulting pain shoots through your head.

Lea’s hand grabs onto your elbow, steadying you and she murmurs, ‘Take it easy. Just stay where you are alright?’

Forcing your eyes open, you take her in as best you can.

The same brilliant blue eyes, lean athlete’s build and shoulder length blonde hair. Still absolutely gorgeous.

You blink up at her and she asks, ‘How long have you been like this?’

It’s hard to think but you make an effort to do so.

‘Since two this afternoon?’

Lea’s eyes widen and she curses under her breath in her native language.

‘You’ve been like this for practically four hours?’

You make a poor attempt at shrugging, ‘Did you...?’

The striker snaps back into focus, ‘Course.’

She reaches into her jacket pocket and there in her hand, is a very precious bottle of prescription medication.

‘Two right?’ She asks even though she is already shaking the correct dosage out onto her palm.

You simply nod, struck speechless by the fact that she remembers.

The blonde makes sure you are sitting up and then carefully holds out your pills, along with the half drunk glass of water from your nightstand.

Staying upright just long enough to accept the medicine and swallow it with a mouthful of water, you soon lay back down amongst your pillows.

‘Thank you Lea.’ You hoarsely whisper.

‘You’re welcome.’ She says, with an expression you can’t quite place.

The pain in your head pulses but you know that is not the reason why you can’t read her because if you are being honest, she’s always been somewhat of a mystery to you.

Breathing in once, twice and then thrice, you realise that contrary to your earlier expectations, the German woman is not turning to leave right away.

‘I’m really sorry to have bothered you. I hope your game goes well tomorrow.’ You offer eventually.

Lea just keeps looking at you with that same indiscernible gaze.

After a long minute, she replies, ‘Thanks and it’s fine. We were doing my least favourite core workouts anyway.’

The striker glances down at her phone, obviously taking note of the time before she adds, ‘I should be getting back though. Obi can only cover for me for so long.’

‘Right. Sorry again to have pulled you away.’

Still, your ex doesn’t make any move to leave.

Instead, she twists the ring on her index finger around a few times and then says, ‘I’ll come back after the session to check on you. It shouldn’t take more than two hours.’

Your mouth drops open in shock.

‘You don’t need…It’s okay. Once the meds kick in, I’ll be alright. You know that.’

After all, this is not your first migraine that Lea’s experienced. When you were still together, she would put your head in her lap and run her fingers through your hair. It was soothing and calming and the tiny featherlight kisses she used to press to your forehead never failed to make you feel better.

But that was the past and well…you can hardly ask her to do that now.

‘No I do know. It’s just that…you look like shit.’

Lea’s words are blunt and she folds her arms across her chest, blue eyes seeming rather challenging as she continues, ‘You’re going to need actual food coming off this migraine and I’d bet you don’t have anything of the sort lying around here.’

You frown, thinking of the instant noodles that make up your pantry.

It’s the only answer your former girlfriend needs because she repeats more or less of what she’d verbalised earlier, in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

‘I’ll be back in less than two hours. In the meantime, try to sleep.’

Then she’s gone. Disappearing just as suddenly as she’d appeared.

Too exhausted to try and figure her and what the fuck has just happened out, you bury your head under a pillow to block it all out.

You know the drill now. To get through a bad migraine, you need to stay very very still. Any movement would do you no good.

Count to a hundred, breathing in and out all the while. Reach five hundred, reset your counting and keep taking in deep breaths.

It takes another hour but slowly, the Eletriptan begins to work. Little by little, the headache recedes till you’re able to slip into a fitful sleep at last.

******

When you wake, your room is much darker than it was earlier. Not even the tiniest hint of sunlight peeks through your blinds.

After a few minutes, you decide that the pounding in your head has subsided enough movement to become feasible once more.

Sitting up warily, you catch sight of the time displayed on your alarm clock.

Abruptly, you remember that Lea has said she was coming back.

Wide awake now, you stop only to throw on a hoodie before opening your bedroom door. Someone is definitely here, you can see that your kitchen light is on.

Before you even get halfway down the hall, you smell something amazing…and familiar.

At the doorway to your kitchen, you pause just to look at Lea for a long moment.

For a fraction of a second, you wonder if your migraine had been so bad that you are coming up with new symptoms like hallucinations.

Then you dismiss the thought because food has never smelt so good. Not even in your wildest dreams.

She’s standing with her back to you, stirring a pot of what must be stew, made from her mother’s recipe.

She used to make that for you when you’d had a long day. The ensuing rush of nostalgia has you bracing a hand against the wooden frame of the door.

Your former girlfriend hasn’t physically changed much in the five months you have been apart, bar the new tattoo on her arm. Dressed in Bayern’s signature red training outfit and with her blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, she’s still all lean muscle, as tall and terribly attractive as she’s always been.

Now that your migraine has dulled, you are better able to appreciate exactly how stunning she is.

You watch her biceps flex as she begins to cut up some greens.

It was those well built arms that you had first fallen in love with. Not because of how fine a figure it gave her but because of how safe you had felt when she’d held you in them.

That’s all irrelevant now, swept to the side due to a more pressing issue. The one that is Lea Schüller standing in your kitchen.

Opening and closing your mouth, you manage to stutter out, ‘W-What are you doing?’

To her credit, the blonde doesn’t flinch.

Her voice is soft but sure when she answers without turning around, ‘Making dinner.’

‘I can see that…but why?’

‘Because you always feel like crap when you don’t have proper food coming off one of your migraines. The one you were having looked especially bad too.’

Two thoughts occur simultaneously. One, is Lea taking care of you? Two, what does this mean?

Detaching yourself from the kitchen doorway, you try to play off the way your heart rate is speeding up. Your head is spinning again, this time because of confusion instead of the headache.

‘You could have just dropped off takeout.’

Now, Lea deigns to look at you, stopping her cooking. Her eyes stay on you as she searches for something you don’t know.

She’s seemingly satisfied after a moment.

‘But I didn't, so here I am.’ She says evenly.

You don’t know how to answer that so you close the remaining distance to your little breakfast counter and take a seat there.

The German woman resumes her cooking and you find yourself questioning her ability to look so composed. How is she looking so at ease here, cooking stew in your kitchen, looking for all the world like the past five months hadn’t happened? Like you two had never broken up?

Neither of you speak again till dinner is ready.

You fetch bowls and spoons from your cupboard, Lea serves both portions.

Setting your bowl in front of you, the Bayern player sits down across from you for the first time in- well, five months.

Then she looks up, blue eyes that are as clear as crystals, meeting yours.

‘Lea…what are you really doing here?’ You barely audibly murmur.

The striker sighs, pushing her bowl away from her and leaning back into her seat.

‘The truth?’

After a long drawn out silence in which she runs her thumb along the handle of her spoon, a restless gesture of hers and you resist the urge to reach across the tabletop to soothe it, Lea admits, ‘I missed you.’

You let her words sink in, trying to work out how you feel about them. Lea had missed you. That means something doesn’t it? Do you want that to mean something?

The answer to that, is so obvious that you can’t lie to yourself. Of course you want it to mean something. You’ve missed Lea like crazy. Every single day since the split.

Your former girlfriend sets her spoon down, gaze downcast as she mumbles, ‘I should leave.’

‘No!’ You start to shake your head, then gasp at the pain that flares up when you do.

Massaging the sides of your temple, you say, ‘Please don’t go. Lea, I-I missed you too.’

A quiet puff of air leaves the blonde, ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d…moved on.’

‘From you?’ Your laugh comes out a touch bitter.

‘I didn’t. I couldn’t.’

Then a thought strikes you and you glance at the German woman furtively, ‘Did you move on?’

Lea blinks as if she had not expected you to ask.

‘I’m here aren’t I?’

Part of you wants to say, ‘Well…for five, nearly six months, you weren’t.’

The Bayern Munich player must sense it because she softens, ‘No. There hasn’t been anyone since. You’re…you. I don’t think there is any getting over you.’

You didn’t know how much you’d been afraid of a different answer till Lea said that. Actually, afraid doesn’t quite cover it, terrified would be a better description.

Relief courses through you so powerfully that you feel lightheaded with the intensity of it.

With how heavy the air is now, you force yourself to pick up your spoon and start on the stew. The last thing you need is to do something stupid like tell Lea you’re still head over heels in love with her.

The blonde takes the cue that you’re done talking for now and the only sound in the room is the clinking of spoons against the bowls.

As expected, the stew is delicious. It had always been your favourite even though Lea never made a meal that you didn’t like.

Like she knows you are thinking about her, the German woman glances up from her bowl, catching your eye and then smiling.

It’s a soft, gentle smile. Reminiscent of old times. Lea making you both dinner, Lea taking care of you after one of your migraines, Lea just being…there. Just constantly there, by your side and looking at you like she never wants to be anywhere else.

You wonder if this is going somewhere. Is this an olive branch or just closure?

Before you know it, your spoon is scraping the bottom of your bowl. The warmth and saltiness of the stew have done wonders and you feel much better.

Lea can see it too because she says, ‘There’s more in the pot if you’d like.’

With a small noise of thanks, you fill up your bowl with a second helping.

Sitting back down, you stir the stew around for a moment and watch the steam rise.

Tentatively, you ask, ‘How’s the football going?’

‘It’s good. The team is doing good. How’s university?’

‘Same. I’m just starting to look for job openings for after my graduation.’

Lea fiddles with her ring, ‘Are you still thinking about teaching?’

‘That’s lovely. It’ll suit you.’

‘I’m pretty sure I want to teach kindergarten.’ You elaborate.

The blonde nods, ‘That suits you too.’

You two fall silent again.

Biting your lip, you try to come up with something to say. It’s strange, almost sad how awkward things feel now. Once upon a time, you had been so comfortable with each other. You’d been open with Lea in ways you never had been with anyone else. It was mutual.

Have things changed so much? Is it possible for a way back?

‘Lea?’

‘Yes?’

‘I just…’ You stop messing around with your food, forcing yourself to look at her properly.

‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the things I said. The last time we saw each other, I said a lot of cruel and awful things that I shouldn’t have. I did not mean them and I’m really sorry.’

Lea puts her spoon down, ‘I’m sorry too. You weren’t the only one who said things she didn’t mean.’

Her words are genuine, you can see it in the bright blue of her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, you blurt out, ‘I still love you Lea. I wish we’d never broken up.’

Surprise colours Lea’s pretty features.

‘I wish we’d never broken up either. There’s not been a day where I stopped loving you.’

‘Oh.’ You breathe.

The forward goes on, ‘Letting things end after our argument was a mistake. A huge mistake, mostly on my part. I wanted to call. I should have called.’

‘I’m not blameless…I wanted to call too but you were so angry. I-I thought you didn’t want me to call. I thought that you’d never want to hear from me again.’

Lea rests her elbows on the table, leaning closer to you. Your heart begins to beat more quickly, you’re certain you aren’t misreading the flicker of hope in her expression.

Swallowing hard, the German woman murmurs, ‘You called today.’

‘I did. You dropped everything to come over. Made me dinner too.’

Blushing lightly, Lea murmurs, ‘I was sort of trying to make a grand gesture.’

You smile, ‘It worked.’

Lea begins to grin, ‘It did?’

Almost like she can’t help herself she asks, ‘Do you think…Can we give us another try?’

A hundred things rush through your mind. Happiness and relief blooms in your chest.

Eagerly, you say, ‘I’d like that.’

Lea’s smile begins to take on a giddy edge and she reaches an open hand out across the table.

You take it without a split second’s hesitation.

Lea closes her fingers around yours, gaze alight with affection and pure contentment. It is a look you’d never thought you’d see again and it fills you with a sunshine like warmth.

‘Finish eating my love.’ She finally says, gently letting go of your hand.

The term of endearment causes a tingle of joy to spread through you. Enough so that you don’t stop smiling for the rest of the meal.

When you’re both done, Lea washes and you dry. She flicks some soapy water at you, her giggles filling the space.

You’d missed it. You’d missed her. You tell her so and she pulls you into her arms.

Her chin rests on your shoulder and she whispers, ‘I missed you every single second of every fucking day.’

You breathe in her smell, taking comfort in it and the safety of her arms once again.

‘Let’s never do that again.’

‘Deal.’ Lea promises.

Then she seals it with a kiss and oh my…you’d forgotten what it was like to be in heaven.

Lea’s lips are incredibly soft, the kiss slow and sweet. It’s everything and more, better than you’d remembered.

When you both part, there’s a single tear making its way down your cheek.

In a tender gesture, Lea wipes it off with the pad of her thumb.

A small relieved laugh escapes her, ‘I think we’re going to be okay.’

You pull her even closer, mouth quirking upwards against your lover’s lips because you know now that you’re never going to let her go again. This is going to work, you’d do your damndest to make sure of it.

‘I think we’re going to be more than okay.’

#lea schüller #lea schüller x reader #lea schüller imagine #woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #fcb frauen x reader #gerwnt x reader #dfb frauen x reader #katelynnwrites

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factual-fantasy · 14 days ago

Note

Bonjour Factual! Terribly sorry to hear you've had a couple of crummy days lately- just keep hanging in there! My health has been up and down lately too, but I'm confident there is light at the end of the tunnel for both of us! Make sure to always stay hopeful and try to maintain a positive attitude! Not only is it good for your morale, but it can actually benefit your physical health in the long run! (:

As for my ask today, I just wanted to clarify a few things regarding the dastardly head of Decepticon Science, Shockwave, in your AU. Mainly, do you think you'll be keeping his backstory mostly the same? In his youth, he was a key inventor of Cybertron, and invented both the cortical psychic patch, as well as space bridge technology! However, after turning to the cons later in life, his experiments became far more dangerous and inhuman- and ultimately are what lead to him getting his left arm cannon- because he created the Dinobots, including their leader Grimlock:

He tried modifying Autobot prisoners into mindless war beasts, forcibly altering their alt forms into suspiciously dinosaur-esc shapes- but there was an accident, the experiments proved smarter than anticipated, and in the resulting escape Grimlock bit off Shockwaves left arm in retaliation. After which, Shockwave replaced his limb with the now iconic arm cannon, and while he proved mostly emotionless, throughout the rest of the war he silently harbored a deep fear Grimlock would track him down and finish the job...

Alongside this, Shockwave is also credited with the creation of the Insecticons, who as far as we know were primarily Decepticon test subjects. The resulting mutant monstrosities would then go on to eventually become the more refined and perfected models seen in the show as the Cons heavy units:

I totally agree that the idea of Shockwave creating life, like the Predacons or Vehicon clones, is a bit far fetched- hence why you removed those bits from your AU. But I think his projects involving preexisting Cybertronians still fit the story quite well, and the added lore behind Shockwaves arm cannon is a fan favorite! Plus, you wouldn't have to worry about incorporating the Dinobots into the main story, as after tearing apart Shockwaves main lab and fighting through the original batch of Insections, the legendary beasts were caught in a collapsing space bridge.

Unknown to both sides, they were actually teleported to the planet of Junkion, and remained unaccounted for during the rest of the war- officially declared M.I.A....

Ah, I'm sorry to hear you've been unwell too. Hopefully we both get better soon <:))🙏🙏

And now that I know Dinobots were Autobots that were experimented on and mutated?? I think I could totally add them in. But obviously they will not look like dinosaurs at all. Or even functioning creatures. They will look like people who were grotesquely mutated.

As for the Insecticons, Shockwave Invented/created them? By experimenting on Decepticons? Hoh boy, I cant keep that for sure. With that backstory I'd love to see how they try and explain away Arachnids existence. 💀

In my AU I was thinking Insecticons could not talk, and were more like fairly intelligent animals than people. And Shockwave did not invent/create them. They were just a species that was utilized by the Decepticons during the war. Maybe Shockwave experimented on them to make them more loyal to Megatron..? But that's as far as it goes.

Going back to Arachnid, I imagined her being a far more intelligent sister species to the Insecticons. She is still not really considered a person and probably didn't have many rights, but her species was intelligent enough to play somewhat of a role in Cybertronian society. Which is how she's able to talk and looks very "human" shaped, but also have the Insecticons worship her.

Oh- and a last point because I forgot it until now-- I think I will keep Shockwave inventing the cortical patch through unethical experiments. But I will take away him inventing ground bridge technology. In my AU I think I will have it so that tech was connected to the screamer brothers and their science team instead. Or maybe- its been around a lot longer than that and the screamers played a role in inventing space bridge technology.

Lastly, my apologies if any of these paragraphs are jumbled or make no sense- I am very scrambled egg brain today and would be willing to clarify anything I've said. Thank you for the ask!! 🙏💞

#my response #tfp shockwave #transformers prime #long post

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softspace-fics · 10 months ago

Note

Hiiiiii I love your blog and all of your writing (especially your little fanific they comfort me a lot)

You can ignore this request, but do you think you can write something for a disabled reader trying to take care of themselves like do every day things (taking a shower or cooking) and the more and more they mess up things the more frustrated they get (and maybe regress) until someone (either stucky or loki if you don't mind) swoops in and takes over to help and let's them know that it's okay to need help

Thank you for listening I hope your having a good day

It's hard.

A/N- Eeee! Hello! I'm so glad you like my blog, my entire goal is to make stories that people can love. I hope I made your request okay! I know i changed it somewhat but I might use this idea a few times. Thank you so much for it, and if anyone else has a request please send them!

Masterlist - All my work!

Warnings ⚠️: Disabled reader, Mentions of ignorant family, reader struggles with their own body, Loki helps reader to shower and get dressed, Loki carries reader, fluff, let me know if I miss any!

CG!Loki Laufeyson x Disabled!Gn little reader!

-----------

You had always struggled with being able to function, or to be able to even properly care for yourself. This included everyday things, things like eating, making your own bed, even walking was hard to do.

Your parents rarely believed you when you would tell them something was wrong, even after numerous hospital visits, the different doctors telling your parents you were just dramatic, didn’t help. You were in constant pain but throughout your life, you learned to bear it. To never complain about it. To shut up.

However when you started to regress from it, from the pain, from being beaten down for your pain, it all started to feel better and hurt all at once. You were in a state of a child, in the pain of a adult, and by yourself. This was hard to handle all at once, it meant a lot of nights were spent in bed wondering why you.

When you met Loki, you were cautious, you didn’t know how he would react. Would he tell you that you were faking just like the others? Would he believe you? Did you believe yourself?

Loki eventually found out a few months into you both being together, he picked up on your little clues, how you avoided lifting heavy things, or how you sometimes would stomp your feet a little more after a long day. When you would curl into his side on days the pain was just unbearable. He helped you go see doctors and get meds that were supposed to help, but they only lessened the pain enough to manage.

Today loki had gone out to go get you guys breakfast and you decided to shower, or attleast attempt to. You had clambered out of bed pretty easily, your body seeming to play nice today. You gathered the items you need to make yourself comfortable after and during the shower, before you headed into the bathroom.

You and Loki had decided to let today be a little day, so you had your favorite pjs on for after the shower, and you were ecstatic to be able to spend the day with loki. You slowly and carefully got undressed and climbed into the shower, some of your favorite music playing in the background.

You were successfully getting through the shower before everything started to hurt. The hot water began to burn, and your vision started to get blurry. It was like your joints were starting to play a painful prank on you. You tried to carefully sit down, but slipped and fell slightly onto the shower floor.

You began to cry when you heard the bathroom door open, and Lokis soothing voice coming through.

“Darling? You okay?”

“D-Dada!” You stutter out scared.

Loki immediately swoops into the shower gently helping you sit up properly before he turns off the shower and switches it to where he can fill the bath up. He pulls his sleeves up before gently pushing the hair out of your face and checking you for bruises.

“Baby what happened? Are you okay?”

“I-I slipped” You mutter out softly.

Loki gently kisses your head before getting a washcloth to help finish cleaning you up. He carefully and gently helps get you cleaned up before starting to help you wash your hair. He leaves gentle little kisses on your face throughout, making sure that your comfortable and that you feel safe.

“Baby you know i’d help you in anyway when you dont feel good right? I know its hard to ask for help but you my darling deserve the care and love. Don’t be afraid to wait for me or to ask me for help, thats why im here right?” He softly cups your cheek, making sure you see the sincerity in his eyes.

You only are able to nod as a response, your eyes filling with tears as you’d never felt more loved.

Loki gently helps you out of the tub, helping you to dry off and to get dressed, kissing your nose when your in your comfortable pjs of choice. He scoops you up into his arms, kissing your cheeks and carrying you to the living room where he has pillows and blankets ready for you and your favorite movie ready to hit play.

He sits down with you on his lap as he covers you in blankets and kisses your head. You buries your face into his neck, peaking out just enough to be able to see.

“Dada than’ you. Its hards to asks for help sometimes.”

“Its okay for it to be hard, dada will continue to love you either way.”

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dalamjisung · 6 months ago

Text

A muted shade of green ✧ Chapter 9: His angel girl

genre: comfort, smut (minor do not interact!!)

word count: 5902

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: you two take a step into getting back to normal... or at least trying.

a muted shade of green masterlist

previous chapter // next chapter

would like to welcome all the new readers and to dedicate this chapter to the beautiful @starofthedawn who's been reading and commenting on my chapters since the beginning <3 thank you for your undying support love! means the world!

“Happy Monday!”

You want to shoot her in the head. You want to turn around, grab Officer Kaper’s gun from his holster, and shoot her in the head, and you want to stop wanting to shoot her in the head. For someone who probably had the most magical Sunday of her life, you are not in such great mood once the consequences of sleeping a total of two hours sets in. Spencer deals with it much better than you, and you wince just remembering how snippy you were when he woke you up with the same kisses that had you moaning just hours ago. Lucky for you, though, he only laughs and pushes a full mug of coffee your way. Spencer knows you well despite the little time you two have been living together. But then again, if he really tries, Spencer would know anyone well.

“Ah, happy Monday,” You say, shooting Officer Kaper a look that has him snorting. “Did you have any questions about the starter email? Sorry it wasn’t super in depth, it’s my first time hiring someone to help me.”

“That is absolutely okay, I’m sure I can learn a lot from you today!”

It should be exciting, finally having the store open full time and with help to keep it functioning, but you’re just so exhausted that you can’t find it in you to be your usual cheery self. Not when just hours ago, you were feeling like you had endless energy, charging through Spencer’s touches.

After JJ left his apartment, quite begrudgingly, you must admit, you two finally have some time to breathe. It sounds cliche, really, cheering for the moments you two can be together without an audience, but lately, there has been so few of them that it’s almost impossible to not turn selfish when they come about. And my god, are you selfish then… Spencer can’t move to the kitchen without you following him. But to your credit, he doesn’t seem to be all that comfortable with moving away from you either, and that is how you two end up in his room, digging through his mismatched socks drawer with so much gusto that it might just look like you found the long lost treasure of Atlantis.

“You have no matching socks!” You giggle, shivering a little when you feel his presence behind you. His breath hits your nape, and Spencer drops a gentle kiss there. “Sweetheart, do I need to buy you socks?”

“No,” He mumbles and just by the tone of his voice you know he’s distracted with dragging his lips through your neck, biting, kissing, grazing. Spencer is having his own fun with you, one that has nothing to do with the fact that your feet are freezing and his heater seems to be giving up on getting his apartment at a liveable temperature. When you ask him to look into it, he chuckles and tells you that he can fix it, that he will fix it. This, however, doesn’t look like he’s fixing it. “But you can keep calling me sweetheart.”

Cocking your head to the side, giving him more space to work his magic. Something inside of you keens at the way he grabs at your waist, pulling you closer and keeping you there with a demanding attitude that is new and welcome, and you wonder if this has anything to do with how he finally spoke out. Taking control of a situation is always somewhat of a thrill, and you think Spencer is basking in his newfound confidence by pushing it a little further.

Not that you are complaining. Much to the contrary– a sharp exhale leaves your lips the moment he brushes those teasing lips on the junction of your neck and your shoulder, and you can feel the way he smirks, doing it again just to draw a whine out of you. “Spence,” Your voice goes all high pitched with the way he adds pressure with each kiss, the way his hands slide from holding you by the waist to encircling you completely. “Spence, what are you doing?”

His chuckle sends another wave of shudders through you. “I’m not letting anyone take you away from me,” He whispers back, taking one step, then another, and another, until your knees push against the edge of his mattress and his kissed turn into light suckles travelling all around. At this point, you get yourself ready for the bruises you can feel blooming on your skin. “I’m never letting anyone take you away from me, I promise, angel. My angel girl…”

One day, when you think back to this moment, you’ll blame the ‘my angel girl’ for the way you so quickly clambered up to bed, hands grabbing him by that tie he insists on wearing even inside the house and tugging him down with a force you’ll probably never be able to conjure ever again. You’ll blame the ‘pretty girl’ and the ‘my Y/N’. You’ll blame the way his eyes plead, oh so quietly but never subtly, for you to get closer, to kiss him harder. You’ll blame him and his pretty lips, his pretty skin, his pretty legs.

Everything about his is pretty, and you can’t help the excitement growing in you with each button undone. Oh, the amount of times you’ve dreamt of unbuttoning these shirts he religiously wears, uncovering inch of skin by inch of skin, dropping a kiss in every new bit of him that you get to see. Spencer is not as quiet as you thought he’d be– he rambles, and pants, and moans, and you smile because you know you’re the one dragging these sinful noises out of him, and you know that this show is all for you and you only. Spencer is not far behind though, and his hands are as equally busy– they pull, tug, rip, unzip; they do all they can until you’re left in your mismatched underwear and him, only in his boxer briefs. For some odd reason, you’re slightly disappointed that his tight underwear, outlining those beautiful thighs of his, are not purple.

It’s cute, how his cheeks blush when his eyes land on your breasts, even if they seem stuck there for a while. “Spence,” You whisper, hand raising to caress his cheek. You are blushed yourself, redness going down your neck and chest, but you don’t mind it much, not when he seems to follow down the path of shyness you’ve created like it was the map to heaven. “Spence, is… is this okay?”

“So much more than okay,” Spencer whispers back, face turning gently to kiss the palm of your hand cupping his cheek. “Is this okay for you?”

“So much more than okay,” You agree, smiling wide and pulling him down for another ravenous kiss. Like an instinct, your legs move to wrap around his waist, squeezing until every bit of him presses against every bit of you.

And then you feel him, hot and heavy, and you exhale a sharp breath that has him jumping, trying to put some distance between you two as if he had somehow hurt you. “Are you okay?! Are you–“ You shut him up effectively with one more pull by the legs, hips dragging your heart against him and having him exhale as sharp as you.

Raising your brow in a silent challenge, you mutter, “Are you okay?” With every word your lips brush against his and for once, in a long, long time, you feel good about yourself. You feel powerful, in command… sexy. The last time a man looked at you the way Spencer is looking at you had been years ago, and it hadn’t even been Josh. Josh never looked at you like that, like you could solve all his issues and pains with just one kiss, no, no; Josh looked at you like a challenge. A task. An objective. You never want to be looked at like that ever again.

No. For the rest of your life, all you want is for Spencer to look at you like he’s doing right now. Specifically him, because if it’s not coming from those melting, honey eyes, you don’t want it. “Oh,” You breathe out, too lost in your head to have felt his hand moving upwards from your waist to sneak under your bra, nimble fingers squeezing it in an experimenting feel. From the way he bends down to kiss you, other hand rushing to unclasp the garment and throw it somewhere in the room, it must feel really fucking good. He takes it to a whole other level, though, when his lips– those lips you adore so much, that you spent hours watching move and talk and lecture– wrap around a perk nipple. “Oh, Spence…”

Sex is incredibly intimate for you. Is an act of giving and taking and giving back, and it’s a constant exchange that leaves you floating, on good times; on bad ones, it makes you feel as heavy as a rock. Just from his kisses alone you already feel weightless, so you know that from now on, there is only great things coming. Great things like how he grinds his hips down on you, catching onto your most sensitive spot again and again and again, and you’re not sure when was it that you desperately pulled his boxers down, but when you come back to yourself, climbing down from the building pleasure of having Spencer humping you like an uncontrolled teenager, you have him stark naked… and you’ll dream of this for the rest of your life.

Naked Spencer is not the most confident, but he’s not coy about it either. In all fairness, you don’t think his brain, usually brilliant and expansive and now working in a one-track mind, is able to juggle a lot at the moment, and you chuckle at how awkwardly endearing he looks. One hand moves to push his hair our of his face, basking into the way he smiles at you, so brightly and larger than life. “You’re beautiful,” You whisper, forehead resting against his. “So beautiful…”

“I’m afraid that would be you, darling angel,” Spencer kisses you quickly rubbing his hands on your arms, your back. “So pretty for me… all mine.”

“All yours,” You agree, arching into his touch. It’s not possessiveness that you catch in his voice, but desperation. Fear. Need. Spencer is not dominating you, he’s not taking and taking and taking; he’s simply going along with a pace that is set by the both of you. You two are like water, moulding to each other, soft yet strong. No one has more power than the other, and no one commends nor obeys. This is a collaboration of two weirdly shy people trying to push past their natural hesitations to make something beautiful.

Your hand slides down his chest, between your bodies, and grabs a hold of his cock. For a man that despised touch, Spence let out an eager groan, pushing his hips up towards your touch, and you whine. You want to be touched too, and he catches on instantly. Your sweet profiler, reading you even when his eyes could barely focus on yours. “So good,” He said, clumsy mouth trying to kiss yours while speaking. “So fucking good.”

Just when you thought it couldn’t get better, Spencer curses, the word so foreign to him that you can’t help the rush of excitement that runs through you right there and then. Spencer knows, too, with how he gently slides his hand under your panties, finger diving into your wetness shamelessly. “So fucking good.”

There is not embarrassment in how loudly the sounds your body makes echoes in the room. Mixed with both your breathing, your moans, and the way your skin hits so perfectly, the sound of your eagerness is just another instrument in the symphony of you guys’ pleasure. “Spence, come on,” You whine again.

When you try to push your underwear down your legs, Spence gently slaps your hand away, tutting at you with a glint of mischievousness. Instead, he hooks his own fingers on the sides of it and makes a point of dragging it down as slow as possible. By the time he has your legs up in the air and finally gets it off of you, you are wiggling in place. “Stay still,” He gently admonishes you, nipping at your ankle that rests on his shoulder. It’s almost like Spencer is adamant on killing you slowly, keeping you teetering at the edge of a precipice created by him and him only. It’s up to him to push you over. Safe to say, with the way his lips slowly move from you ankle, down your legs, inching closer and closer to where you want him the most, you are as good as dead already, now it was all about enjoying the ride. “I want to make sure I commit this to memory.”

“Y-You have an eidetic memory, S-Spencer– oh my god,” Your voice wobbles a little at the first touch of his mouth to your folds. Despite your… occasional dirty dream of Spencer, you had no expectations for this at all. After your conversation with Penelope, it was obvious that your beautiful nerd hadn’t had the most common teenage-hood. He had never experienced those marks of growing up– had never made out under a bleacher, never passed notes to his friends during class, never put a sock on the door of his dorm. Besides Lila and Maeve, you know nothing about his past relationships, and you found Lila’s name because of an article that leaked a photo of them kissing on a pool. Sure, you weren’t all that glad to now have the picture of Spencer kissing someone else ingrained in your brain, but it made you happy to know he had people appreciating him for all he is, before you.

So safe to say it surprises you to know that Spencer knows how to use his mouth, and knows it well. Part of you wants to look at him, watch him eat you out like the starved man he apparently is and try, your damned hardest, to never forget it. Unlike him, you’re but a mere human that, at the moment, is so lost in pleasure that you’re not even sure if you remember your name. Doesn’t take long to have you shaking in his hands, legs trembling around his head and hips pinned down by his hands. “Let go,” Spencer whispers, opening his eyes just for a second, just to catch a glimpse of your face as he licks you whole, just right until he’s able to wrap those lips– those sinful lips– around your clit. That is your undoing, and before you can even warn him, your thighs snap closed around his head and you cum, moaning Spencer’s name like he is the prayer that will keep you alive.

“Hmmm,” He brings you back to life with the soft little trail of kisses he drops on his way back up. In his tongue there are traces of you, of your taste, of your soul, and you are addicted with well it mixes with him. “You truly are sweet, angel.”

“And tomorrow, I’ll figure out how sweet you are,” It’s a promise and one that you full intend to keep, though right now you truly think you will go insane if you don’t feel him like how you’ve been yearning to all night. “But right now, I really need you to–“

“To what?” He asks when your voice dies down, suffocated by the sudden feel of his cock rubbing against you just right. “Hm? What do you need, angel girl? Tell me and I’ll do anything for you…”

Seeing Spencer so lost in pleasure is something new. His hair looks wild and his eyes are hungry and curious, focused on you and you only. He catches every reaction, every little twitch of your hips, every breathy whine; Spencer memorises everything. This will be stored in a little box inside his head, for those nights alone in strange hotel rooms in even stranger cities. For the afternoons with too little work and too many insecurities clouding his head. For the mornings when you leave before him and he can’t make you whine his name like you’re doing right now. His name… my god, his name is all he wants to hear coming out of your mouth; his name and those little gasps that send jolts of electricity up and down his spine. When you look up at him, arms going around his shoulder to pull him down for a kiss Spencer is smiling. It’s bright and wide and true and you think– no, no you know– and you know you’re falling in love with this man.

You hike a leg up his waist, brushing yourself all over him, and you smile back. It doesn’t last long, though, because Spencer chooses that moment to push inside of you, biting your shoulder in a failed attempt to hide the guttural groan rising up his throat. “Holy shit,” You mumble, eyes threatening to close. This is all very overwhelming– in the best way possible, surely, but still overwhelming. There is the sting of stretching grounding you, but it quickly dissolves into a pleasurable burn and you are sure you’re experiencing the best of both worlds, floating in an in-between space midway to heaven from Earth.

Ever since Cat found out your name, you’ve been living in fear. Every day, every night, you can feel the thrumming of anxiety running through your veins– sometimes stronger, like your heart is about to beat itself out of your throat, and sometimes weaker, more of a hum in the back of your ribs; but it’s always there.

Except for now.

Right now, you feel nothing.

You are drowning in a world of silence, in a motionless state of being…

…until Spencer snaps his hips at you again and you feel more than you’ve felt your entire life.

You feel alive.

On fire.

Burning.

Like every nerve in your body has been ignited, like your brain is working overtime, like the air in your lugs have been punched out of your body.

You feel so much that you can’t even begin to put into words. But you don’t have to speak, not when Spencer whispers those sweet nothings into your ear as if he’s not filthily moving his hips and driving himself so deep into you you basically see start. “So pretty, my angel,” He whines, mouthing at your neck. “So good for me, feels so good, pretty girl. So perfect.” In his words, promises lay unsaid. Promises of love, adoration, fondness. Promises of kindness, gentleness, safety. “I got you, Y/N, I got you. I promise.”

Nodding, you let your nails drag down his back, the sounds of it all getting a bit too much for you to handle. Spencer’s hoarse voice, the slap of his skin on yours, the breathy moans he lets out; everything seems to be getting to you, and you hope this never ends. You hope to feel like this for the rest of your life, like you don’t have to have a single worry in life, because Spencer’s got you.

“Spencer,” You cry out, pulling him for a sloppy kiss. You two are a mess of tongues and teeth and lips and the more he fills you up, the more he pushes into the you, the more you’re willing to fall, fall, fall… and you so you fall. “Oh! Spencer!”

Your orgasm washes over you like a crashing wave, approaching fast and silently but crashing loudly once it hits shore. It’s a surprise to you and apparently to him too, from how he groans the loudest he has so far. You tense up for a second or two or three or maybe even an eternity, squeezing around him oh so perfectly, enough to make him falter, arms giving out and almost having his whole body crash onto you. In his own desperation to cum, Spencer speeds up in such a delicious way that it feels like you’re in a never ending downward spiral, pussy fluttering around him until he pushes into you one last time. “Y/N…” Spencer moaned, keeping himself quiet with how hard he bites your neck, tensing as he let his pleasure wash over him in jerky movements of his hips before completely stopping.

Slowly but surely, he pulls out of you, laying by your side looking completely spent with a lingering hand on your waist. Takes him a bit, but eventually, Spencer gathers enough strength to pull you to him, kissing your forehead lovingly. “You’re… everything,” He breathes out, eyes running over your face to commit it to memory, to engrave it in a type of forever that only he knows. His own forever. You are his very own forever. “Is it too corny to say thank you?”

You laugh and look up at him. “Depends,” Cuddling closer, you let your lips graze over his ear. “Are you thanking me for a job well done?”

“Hmmm,” His chuckle reverberates through you. “A job very well done, sweetheart, yes.”

“Then no, it’s not corny,” You giggle, trowing a leg over his waist. “But as an academic, I don’t think your sample is large enough to be reaching any conclusions yet, doctor.”

“Oh, no, no, I’m not concluding anything yet,” Spencer shivers a little at your teasing joke, eyes darkening in a way that is surely becoming familiar to your. His little smile is enough to have you pushing yourself closer to him, kissing his neck gently. “I am making an inference. An inference is an educated guess, and based on that, I form a hypothesis.”

“And what’s your hypothesis here, doc?”

Clearing his throat, Spencer lets out a breathy hum and tugs you on top of him, thighs on each side of his waist so he can run his hands up and down your beautiful skin. “I think I need a bit more… education first, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh?” Cocking your head to the side, you smile brightly at him. “And how will you embark in this search for knowledge?”

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll show you how, angel girl.”

In ten minutes he was kissing you all over again, muttering your name like a mantra. Y/N, Y/N, Y/N-

“Y/N?”

Your head snaps up to look at Abigail again, cheeks blushing when you realise where your mind had just gone. “Yes? Sorry Abi, what did you say?”

“We have a consumer, could you help me with the cashier system?” And when Abigail smiles, you’re back to your sour mood. Honestly, you feel for her– you feel like a massive bitch who hates on a girl for absolutely no reason, but considering everything that’s been happening, her enthusiasm sending you for a loop.

“Of course!” Doesn’t mean you won’t still try and be a good boss. This is, after all, a place of business. Walking to her, you guide your new store manager through everything she needs to know; the cashier system, the ordering and cataloguing inventory, the filing system on the shelves. Much to your dismay, Abigail is a quick learner and she’s eager to help, jumping into the action as soon as a client walks into the store. You’re quite grateful for that, now having time to actually focus on the administrative tasks you’ve been putting away for ages, and when the time comes to close the store, you look at her with the friendliest smile you can handle under the current exhaustion and soreness that took over your body overnight. “You did great,” You promise, locking the door behind you. “Honestly, I could already work that much better with you handling everything, thank you very much.”

“It was my pleasure!” Abigail smiled. “Will I be given a key for the days you’re not coming in?”

You didn’t think that far, but the thought made you shift a bit uncomfortably. Giving her entrance to the bookstore so freely means you’re giving her entrance to your apartment just upstairs. And besides Officer Kaper and the BAU team, no one knows where you live. The goal is to keep it that way. “We can cross that bridge when we get to it, for a while I intend on coming in every day to make sure your introduction to the store is smooth and seamless!”

“Sounds perfect!” When you finish locking the door, you turn around to find her waiting with an expectant expression. “I uh, I don’t mean to bother you boss, but how about some drinks to celebrate the first day? You can come over now that I’m fully decorated!”

The invite is kind, and as much as you really want to go home and kiss your boyfriend silly, you can’t. You can’t tell her no, not again and again and again, and to your surprise, and hers, you nod. “Yeah, why not? You deserve it. Should I stop at the store to buy anything?”

Quickly shaking her head, Abigail starts guiding you both back to the building calling your name. At least she lived a total of one floor away from Spencer. “No, no, I have everything back home to make some mojitos.”

“Then we’ll order some pizza,” You chuckle, following her inside and up the stairs. “On me!”

“Deal!”

Her apartment is strangely familiar. It looks a lot like Spencer’s, though you can’t help but miss the muted shade of green that adorn his walls, surrounded by a bright pit of white instead. Everything about her place screams single female; the neutral furniture, the romance books piling by the sides of the couch, the quirky decorations that bring some type of colour to the room, and the obvious excessive amount of throw pillows everywhere. “Sorry for the mess,” Abigail chuckles, closing the door behind you and immediately trying to organise the living room. But you see the charm in how it is, and you don’t really mind being in a house that looks like someone lives in.

“Don’t worry about me,” You wave at her. “I like being in a house that feels like a home.”

“Have you ever considered being a writer?” The question makes you laugh. “Sometimes you say some very poetic things and I swear they would sound great in a book.”

“I’m happy selling other people’s books,” Is all you give her, shrugging at her suspicious glance. “So… Pizza?”

You don’t want to admit it, but at one point, you start having fun. It’s right after the awkward talking time and just as the pizza arrives that you two start laughing together, giggling at crazy stories from her old jobs. For a moment, this feels right– feels like what a girl’s night should feel like, with the gossiping, the drinks, the greasy food, and the shitty romance movie playing in the background without you paying attention to it, besides a couple of comments on how Jude Law is so cute. “…And then he wrote his number on the receipt and gave it to me! The audacity!”

Abigail has just finished telling you the story of how she met her ex and you chuckle, shaking your head. “Honestly, I lucked out with my customers. You’ll see that soon, but so far, everyone’s been incredible. I had some horror stories from the stores I worked at back in Manhattan, but thankfully they haven’t followed me here.”

“Hmm,” Abigail is sitting in front of you, happily munching on her food while she squints at you. “Is that how you met Spencer Reid?”

You choke on a bite of crust and the way you have to wash it down with your mojito is ridiculous. The alcohol burns through your throat but at least you can breathe better. “Uh, Spence?”

“Yeah, Spencer Reid,” Abigail chuckles. “The neighbour upstairs. Your… something. Is he your boyfriend? You never really clarified.”

Blushing, you nod. “Yeah, that’s my boyfriend,” Saying those words out loud feels surreal, like you have suddenly added a seal of authentication to it all. “We’ve been– We are dating.”

“Oh,” This is the least enthusiastic you’ve seen her all night, and something tickles your brain. Is she disappointed that you two are officially dating? Is she into Spencer?! “Good to know. Uh, did you meet him at the store?”

“Yeah,” The mood quickly turns upside down and tension settles where laughter previously occupied. “We’ve been friends for a while, though, and I uh, I used to watch his apartment while he was out of town for work and he’d bring me books and–“

“Is he out of town a lot?” This. This is exactly why you always feel weird next to Abigail– her invasive questions. “For work, that is.”

“I–“ What are you supposed to say to that? Yes. He travels regularly and I’m constantly vulnerable and alone at his apartment? Absolutely not. “I mean, sometimes, but he can take cases from home.”

“Cases? What does he do again?”

“Oh,” You need to change the subject right now. “Spencer, he uh, he works with–“

You are not sure why you don’t want to tell her the truth, but you and Spencer had never discussed a story, a cover up; but then again, you two had never discussed being separated. A certain level of codependency has instilled thanks to the current situation, and it just makes sense to assume you’d always be together in social situations.

“Because Officer Kaper also knows him, right? He said something back at the store, and I was curious.”

Curiosity might have killed the cat, but Abigail is the one who will kill you. Cat knows Spencer works for the BAU, why would her partner be kept in the dark? Logically, nothing about this makes sense, and you might be overthinking and overreacting, but telling her about Spencer’s private life still feels wrong. Dirty. Like you’re breaking his trust just with a couple of words.

Gulping, you nod, looking around with a nervous chuckle. “He uh, he works in a governmental agency,” Taking a deep breath, you think of semantics, of words that mean the same thing but can be as vague and open-ended as possible. “Some team I forgot the name. You know how those things are, you can be as close as possible with someone and still not be able to tell what they do for a living.”

Her laughter is enough to have you breathing easier. “Oh my god! I so know what you mean… but when you really like someone, I think you remember the little things you know. Or at least I do. I still remember that book you mentioned on our first interview–“ Shuffling to grab something behind her, she shows you the cover of the book you mentioned a while back. “I’m halfway through and it’s absolutely incredible!”

Holding back the impetuous Spencer remembers everything that you so badly want to throw at her, you just chuckle. With every word Abigail speaks, it feels like she’s throwing a dig at either Spencer or your relationship with Spencer, and you’re not sure which one makes you angrier. “I’m glad you like it,” You say, and the buzz of your phone saves the day. It’s been buzzing for a bit, but you didn’t mind checking it much while you were having fun. Now that things have gone a tad south, you can’t wait to come up with an excuse to go home. “Sorry, let me just– oh… Abi, I’m sorry, but I think I need to go home.”

3 missed calls. 8 new messages. All from Spencer. Quickly helping her clean everything, you smiled. If this is going to work, you need to put in as much effort as Abigail is. You need to stop being afraid. You need to be honest with her. You need to do a lot… but not tonight. Tonight you’ve done enough.

“Thank you again for having me, this was actually fun,” You smile, giving her a quick hug before opening the door and stepping out onto the hallway. “We can go to work together tomorrow, if you want! Text me when you’re about to leave?”

“Oh!” That is enough to have her smiling wide. “Yes! Amazing, I will!”

One last wave and you’re running up the stairs, unlocking Apartment 23 with the key Spence gave you. “I’m so sorry!” You call out as soon as you’re inside, bag and shoes dropped by the door as soon as you spot him sitting on his couch. “Spence, I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you I was hanging out with Abigail after work and she made mojitos and we got pizza and–“

“Hey, hey hey hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” Getting up, he walks to you and cups your cheeks, eyes searching for… something… in yours. “You’re okay?”

“I’m okay. Better now, but okay,” You mumble back, kissing his lips gently as a reassurance. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you I was going to Abigail’s.”

“You should’ve,” Spencer sighs, nodding with a small smile. “I was really worried… But then I called Garcia and she pulled the cameras, so I knew you were downstairs.”

“Uh… Babe, I don’t know if that’s the best use of–“

“I don’t care, I was going out of my mind,” His arms squeeze you closer and he hides his face on your neck. “I know you can’t be here 24/7, and we talked about you going back to work, but… but let’s try and let each other know where we are more often? Just while this Cat thing is not solved, yeah?”

“Yeah,” You agree. Your lips press against his forehead lovingly. “Yeah, I’ll do better.”

“Thank you, angel. Did you have fun?”

“I did, for a while. But then Abigail started asking some… personal questions and I just– it sets me off, I don’t know why,” You are clearly frustrated with yourself, sighing and letting your body fall on the couch. In a beat, your arms open for him, inviting Spence to lay with you for a moment. “She asked where you work. I said a ‘governmental agency’ and I don’t know why I feel like I need to hide you from strangers, like she’s going to try and do something to you if she finds out details about your life.”

When he lays down, you curl into him. “You’re protecting me, and that is really cute,” Spencer clarifies. “Maybe she’s just desperate for a friend, you know? I certainly have been there before, it can make you lose a bit of that common sense that should kick in and hold you back from putting your foot in your mouth, or any other idiot expression people use.”

“Could be,” Truth be told, you don’t want to talk about Abigail anymore. You don’t want to think about Abigail, you don’t want to think about Cat, you don’t want to think about anyone but Spencer.

You want to bask in your silence. In you quietude.

You want to feel normal again.

This feels normal again.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you today.”

Yeah… when he giggles; when he kisses your cheek, your neck, your shoulder; when he mumbles excitedly about his day… it all feels normal.

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 6 months ago

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Random Headcanons (18+)

Mirage!Raphael x reader

A/N: Good morning! (Or midday? Idk) I just thought I would quickly cook this one up for you, as I have a somewhat busy day today, and therefore don’t know how much I can write today. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Masturbation, mentioning of soft morning sex, rough sex.

Just like Raph wasn’t as forthcoming with his emotions in the beginning, Raph also held back quite a lot when it came to his physical needs and lusts. That did not mean that he did not find you physically attractive and arousing, because boy oh boy, he did. Just the thought of you had Raph awake at night, thrusting into his own hand. But Raph did not feel like he could make any sexual moves on you, before he felt like he could trust you more. And that trust was slowly built over time, as Raph got to know you better, and ever so slowly opened up emotionally.

When you and Raph first started dating, he wasn’t yet ready to get physically intimate with you. He needed some time to be around you in a more intimate way, getting a feel for how your new dynamic worked in function. But within a few months, filled with long cuddles, hugs, loving looks and a deepening emotional understanding, the sexual aspect also got the opportunity to bloom.

You had known for some time that Raph’s love language really built on a physical love language, along with small acts of service, and sex just really fitted well into that. And when Raph finally allowed him to, sex became one of the ways Raph could show you how much he cared and loved you, without putting those feelings into words. And as time went on, and you and Raph got familiar with each other’s bodies, you soon found a comforting yet routine in the bedroom.

During the mornings where Raph would pull you back to bed for more cuddles, slow and comforting sex was very much welcomed. It was always nice to start out the day with a showcase of love for one another, along with a slow and steady way to wake each other up. Raph had on several occasions told you that he felt much more awake and well rested, after the two of you had had a good morning together.

However, during night time, you and Raph would have sex, that was undoubtedly much more rough. Bed creaking, hair pulling, loud moaning, ass smacking, with the sound of skin slapping against each other echoing throughout the room. It felt good, you showed each other that you loved each other, you strengthened your relationship, and you helped each other get tired enough for bed. Very much a win win in every aspect.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt x reader #tmnt x reader smut #tmnt mirage x reader #tmnt mirage x reader smut #tmnt mirage raph x reader #tmnt mirage raph x reader smut #tmnt mirage raphael x reader #tmnt mirage raphael x reader smut #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raph x reader smut #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt raphael x reader smut #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt mirage raph #tmnt mirage raphael

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balioc · 1 year ago

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Oh, boy! It's Education Theory o'Clock again!

...I have a lot of thoughts on this topic. At some point, when I'm less busy and tired, I should probably try to write them up. Natively, I'm one of the school-is-a-nightmare-prison people, like so many others in this little discourse-sphere -- but I'm married to a middle school teacher, so I regularly encounter both the good arguments from the other side and the facts on the ground, and those things have altered my perspective somewhat.

But I am, in fact, busy and tired. So for now I'll just content myself with saying:

School is an institution that serves many, many, many purposes at the same time. A lot of those purposes are load-bearingly important. (A couple of years ago, I wrote this about college, and...it's double-plus true for primary and secondary schools.) If you don't try to account for all of that stuff in your theory of What School Is and How School Works, you will generate incoherent garbage thoughts. If you have a New Concept for school entailing top-down design that is optimized for a single function (like "increasing test scores" or "causing kids to love learning" or whatever), you'd better have a plan for how you're going to do all the other important things that schools do. And even if you think that some of those things aren't actually important or necessary, you'd better have a plan for dealing with all the people who disagree. Because...

-----

...school, as it exists today, is an inherently political institution. Both in the "soft" sense that everyone has strong opinions about what it's supposed to do and how it's supposed to work, and in the "hard" sense that it is actually controlled by democratically-accountable governments. (This is double-plus true in the US, where it is controlled by local governments, and therefore doesn't even have the protective insulation of a massive bureaucracy.) Everything about the way schools work is a compromise brokered amongst ideologues and self-dealers. Everything about the way schools work involves a lot of decision-makers trying not to get yelled at by the yelliest people around. If you're looking for elegant purpose-driven top-down design, you won't find it. You could probably make a case that any elegant purpose-driven top-down design would be better than the thing we actually have, but getting there would require finding a way to remove the political element.

-----

Most importantly: public schools are (1) compulsory, (2) universal, and (3) for children. [People who are legally children, anyway, whether or not they are actual children in whatever sense matters to you.]

This means that they cannot let students leave, and they have to keep control of all the students that they aren't allowing to leave.

In the most literal not-a-judgment-but-a-fact sense, they are indeed prisons. They are coercively keeping people inside. They have to do that thing, as per their most fundamental mandate within the current system. The alternatives involve letting kids run around unsupervised, and/or failing to give some kids even the most cursory kind of education, and those things are absolute non-starters under present conditions.

All the normal institutions-for-adults operate on the principle of -- If you really don't want to be here, you can leave, and deal with whatever consequences there may be for leaving. This is not an option for schools, and that fact accounts for...everything.

Classroom structure is built around the necessity of keeping the most-hostile, least-engaged student in the class present and supervised, and then trying to prevent him from disrupting things for everyone else. Because the obvious solution that any other institution would use -- "just cut him loose, he doesn't want to be here and we don't want him here" -- isn't available.

(I once talked to my wife about the rationed bathroom access thing, which is one of the most flagrant nightmare-prison aspects of the school experience. Her response was, "If you let kids use the bathroom whenever they want, as much as they want, then you don't have mandatory universal education anymore. Some of them will never return to the classroom, because they don't want to be there." Which is...obviously true.)

So you have something that replicates many of the features of prison, because it has to accomplish the same basic tasks that prison accomplishes. Yay, Foucault.

#education

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sandyca5tle · 4 months ago

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Slimeshifter HRT Story - Enquiries

I poured out of bed, forming myself into a humanoid form and walking over to my wardrobe. Today was the day I'd arranged to go and talk to Dr. Othek about the weirdness in my transition, as well as ask for any more information he had, so I'd want to get dressed. I hadn't actually told him anything about why I wanted to see him, just that I wanted to talk to him, in person, about some parts of my transition I had questions about.

I finished getting dressed and prepared to head out, quickly extending a few tendrils to grab my phone, purse, and keys from their places as I headed to the door, also using my tendrils to lock the door behind me while beginning to walk down the stairs of the apartment complex. Since starting shapeshifter HRT I'd actually found using my tendrils to do stuff without actually having to move close enough to use my hands incredibly useful. I'd practiced/tried this before of course, but it'd never quite worked before, like it did now, which I suspected was due to the fact that since starting shapeshifter HRT I've had that improved bodily connection, I kinda know what every part of me is doing - its shape and form clear in my mind - add in the ability to see from any part of my body from being a slime, and it's really easy to manipulate and do things with my tendrils now.

I stepped out into the cold morning air, instinctively shrinking a little to help keep myself warm - it was a less fun effect of my transition, not having an internal source of heat meant that the cold hit me a lot more - granted, I didn't need 37 degrees to keep functioning, but as the weather got close to freezing I'd found I had more and more problems, given I was a large percentage water. Despite retreating into my clothes somewhat, it actually wasn't cold enough to pose any risk, but nonetheless I quickly made my way to the clinic.

It really didn't take me long anymore to get to the clinic, perks of living within the city rather than having to travel to it, and I was glad to get out of the cold, quickly talking to the receptionist to confirm my appointment before being directed to the waiting room. As before, I was glad to make use of the tail hole the chairs have, something that I had come to realise was better in Hyper City than back home, but was still very much appreciated as so many places weren't great at accommodating us. On the note of 'us', as I looked around, I once again spied a few people also on various forms of AHRT, a couple I recognised from my previous visits, smiling to myself at seeing the progress they had had. I also noted that generally the creatures here were generally further along, although there were a few who were clearly just starting, which made sense I supposed, it had been at least 2 years since this had become majorly available, so there's plenty of folks who were a good ways into their transition.

It wasn't much longer quietly musing to myself before I was called up, and pointed to the doctor's office - even if I already knew where it was.

"Ah, Miss Sandy, good to see you again," Dr. Othek announced with a wave

"Nice to see you again too!" I replied, smiling

"So, I understand you arranged this appointment to talk about some questions and queries you had about your transition," As he stated this he had a somewhat odd look on his face that I couldn't quite decipher, but it almost seemed like he was trying to say more than he was "I hope everything is going fine with your new medication?" He asked, now changing to a more genuine expression, one of concern

"Oh, yeah, no problems with the shapeshifter meds, been great so far, you should see what I'm doing with my tendrils," I told him. He raised an eyebrow, a smirk appearing on his face before I quickly realised what I'd said "Just for like grabbing items and- it's like having a bunch of extra arms that can just grab things for me," I quickly explained with a slight blush "I mean, they literally are as far as I'm concerned, just thinner and without fingers," I added thoughtfully

He chuckled "I'm glad you're not having any issues with your treatment," He said professionally "But if you're not here about that then what are you here about?"

"Well, we kinda talked about it last time," I tapped the middle of my torso, indicating my core "But I'd love to know where all my slime is stored," I told him "I mean, I seem to just be able to store endless amounts of matter within myself, which I'm fairly certain is impossible, unless I've got a TARDIS inside me now, which is equally impossible," I explained

"Maybe you just have a large internal capacity," The doctor posited

"Even then I've got more mass than could reasonably fit within something the size of my core, at least not without causing some kind of issue. I mean, you've seen my dragon form, and I can go a lot bigger than that, with that kind of mass condensed into such a small space you'd think something would happen? Instead I'm completely fine, no collapsing in on myself,"

The doctor's eye's widened "Even bigger?" He muttered "I suppose you're right though, that much mass inside such a concentrated area would have some kind of effect," He agreed

"Do you have any idea how it works? I mean, you prescribe the stuff, I hoped you'd know about it," I asked

Dr. Othek looked down, ashamed "I must confess - no, I do not know - or at least not specifics" He told me, much to my surprise and horror. He looked up at my face, seeing my reaction "Before you worry, I know the procedure is safe - or as safe as this kind of thing can be - but I cannot honestly say I fully understand it." He said "I know what is healthy in a human, and I know what is healthy in most animals, so for many patients I have been able to approximate what a healthy midpoint is - of course there has been issues, but in a multidimensional nexus filled with magic, there is always something I can do to help remedy those problems," He paused to breathe "Even the dragons, the sirens, the lamias, there is enough information on each of them that I can guess what works for them, and they're close enough to some terrestrial animals that I have those as references." He let out a sigh "But, for people like you, those whose species are so far divorced from 'normal', I have no reference," He explained "I mean, of course I've tried my best, and as I told you, I believe that it's as safe as it can be, but my information is sorely lacking…" He trailed off

"If you didn't know what you were doing, why did you do this?" I asked, a little anger bubbling through my curiosity

"Because I wanted to help!" He said back to me "And I heard that the only supplier for you all wasn't exactly helpful. So I looked into it and found this company was looking for doctors to partner with to help with distributing the meds to those in need as well as making sure they were healthy, so I starting working for them," He took a pause "At first it was fine - they only had a small selection, and most to all of the effects were documented. But then, as they developed more and more treatments, the documentation on effects and standards became less and less reliable, with patients reporting more and more effects that I was unaware of, and it's honestly felt more and more experimental… And I mean that, I've done a little bit of poking around, and the medicines they're prescribing I can't find any record of them being tested properly,"

My eyes widened a bit at that, and I could tell he seemed distressed about all this, so I bit back the irritation that had been growing at having all of this hidden from me and others like me "So why continue? Why not leave and say something?"

He smiled sadly "Because I want to help. If I leave and say something, then best case the company gets shut down, but that leaves so many folk like you without your medicine," That hit home for me - I hardly wanted to give up this miracle, even if the people behind it seemed questionable in their methods. "Worst case nothing comes of it, I get fired, and they get a less scrupulous doctor who'll just go along with their experiment to God knows what end," He took a breath "So I stay, find out what I can without arousing suspicion and help my patients navigate whatever happens so they can get the body they want,"

I looked at him as he finished talking, the cheerful demeanour he'd always presented with had all but vanished, instead replaced by a man who was tired and stressed "Thank you," I said "I mean, obviously, not a fan of being given experimental meds without my consent, but thank you for trying to keep us all safe and help us,"

"I don't do it for the thanks…. but it is nice to hear it," He replied, rubbing an eye under his glasses "As I've said I can't look much more into whatever is going on, in case they decide to fire me for looking into whatever they're doing, but if you want to look into it yourself, I can point you in the direction of some information sources I've found, may as well have someone look into it, see if it's really as bad as I think," I blink a little in surprise at him "You don't have to of course, it's up to you,"

"Uh, no, it'd probably be goo-d for someone to look into it - I can certainly try, but I'm not sure if I'll find anything," I told him

"An attempt is better than nothing,"

I nodded "I'll try,"

He took a breath, pulling his cheery demeanour back together "Well! It's nice to have that off my chest - nice to have someone to talk to about it," He said "I wish I could have given you better answers miss Sandy, but I hope this conversation has at least been helpful,"

I smiled and nodded "Not quite what I expected, but it's certainly given me some things to think about, thanks doctor,"

We both stood up, giving a handshake, before I headed back out of the office, waving goodbye to the receptionist as I did so.

The walk back consisted of me mostly being lost in thought, mulling over everything the doctor had said - that, while safe, my and others' medication were unknowns, and potentially experimental, which added the extra questions of whether or not we had all been incorporated into one big experiment without even knowing. These thoughts churned away in my mind even as I reached my flat, opening the door, with my claws rather than a tendril this time, and entered, quickly deserting my clothes near the door and leaping onto the sofa, pooling a little as I let my body relax in a way I wasn't sure my mind would for a while.

I had some shit to work out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Sorry it's been a while since the last part of this, got distracted by another project, but dw still continuing this story, and honestly I think the break did me some good. But yeah, hope y'all enjoy the first bit of this where I'm starting to set up some of what is gonna run alongside the normal transition entries of this second part of the series! First - Prev - Next Writing Masterlist Tags under the cut (Let me know if you want to be added)

@calliecwrites, @friedsputnik, @now-entering-the-goop-zone, @scrubbinn, @lilacinthefog,

@mint-and-authoress, @losttodreams, @redroversendjayover, @ariathelamia, @kanithecatdemon

#slime hrt #slime girl #shapeshifter hrt #slimeshifter hrt #shapeshifter #non-human #non-human hrt #non-humanity #species hrt #therian hrt #otherkin hrt #humanity replacement therapy #transgender #my writing

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etirabys · 5 months ago

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just did 90m of painting work over 3 hours that was (1) mentally demanding (2) that did not pay off. I have nothing concrete to show for it.

today's work was prefaced by 90m of prep last night: looking my long and short term goals, identifying bottlenecks, and designing exercises to widen those bottlenecks (which I executed on today). so if you count that it's 3h of work

interestingly: after today's work, my mind was unusually, legibly split on whether that was a waste of time (prediction: feel bad) or a good use of time (prediction: feel good). and the fact that it felt like a choice – or at least indeterminate in a way I could somewhat influence – suggested to me that finding experimentation (regardless of outcome) worthwhile is a skill?

(in 2021 I stumbled into enjoying the mild-moderate fear of social risk-taking, which led to running a lot of events, which had noticeably positive effects on my social life and popularity. seems like a similar type of meta-skill – something that leads you to find skill development more attractive)

if I may be corny and quote this book review on The Education of Cyrus [the Great]:

Of all Cyrus’s many qualities: willpower, strength, charisma, glibness, intelligence, handsomeness; Xenophon makes a point of emphasizing one in particular, and his choice might strike some readers as strange. It is this: “He did not run from being defeated into the refuge of not doing that in which he had been defeated.” Cyrus learned to love the feeling of failure, because failure means you’re facing a worthy challenge, failure means you haven’t set your sights too low, … He doesn’t flee failure, he seeks it out, hungers for it, rushes towards it again and again, becoming a little scarier every time. He’s found a cognitive meta-tool, one of those secrets of the universe which, if you can actually internalize them, make you better at everything. Failure feels good to him rather than bad

fine, okay, let's lean into feeling good about today's failure and hope it updates my personality 0.01%:

that was cool! it wasn't cool to get frustrated and have to stop at one of the stages, but I have concrete ideas on how to tweak the instructions for tomorrow's run. Even if I abandon conscious directed improvement for a year, writing down what did and didn't work will help future me design better experiments / workflows. I have, in fact, built something that'll last

also, I have a spreadsheet where I log three variables and a generated column that uses those variables to spit out a "score for the day". how much I did and how hard it was have a multiplicative effect on that score, and that was pretty hard, so I'm going to get a Gold Star from My Google Sheets Function for having done this

also also, I have the slightest kernel of the desire to paint ("just not like that dear god I'm not doing that again") which I don't think was there before I forced myself to do a hard and unpleasant painting run

■ Yay

#rambl #eti draws stuff

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imustbenuts · 9 months ago

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nuts reading in jp 11 - wrap up for vol 2 + i can talk about TriStamp undertaker wolfwood a little!!! whooo!!!

its been hella weird to read trigun in japanese since my first read was in english. i think i dug out a few extra stuff i didnt know existed in the work during this little journey. (thank you for joining in on my rambles!)

no real translation word related stuff today. mostly culture stuff dump.

but man i was right on the money when i said vash was stressed in #10. i forget he actually falls unconscious after dominique quits the narrative. yay~

me after i finish these posts at 5am every time

and then, him.

🥺✨✨raidei the blade. ✨✨ 🥺

listen. this guy. this fucking guy is, personally, the funniest guy in the entirety of trigun. for that line above in the 98 anime, and also for some stuff he represents. ...and it's not for larping reasons. ill get into that another day, please look forward to it. (i say this knowing his backstory was rough.)

anyway its time.... for Wolfwood's 'job change'.

in the manga he introduces himself as a tradesman Priest. it doesnt make much sense to outsiders but despite people getting confused, it mostly gets hand waved off as the guy being a little eccentric. and also prideful.

we then get more information about that being a cover for him being one of the Gung Ho Guns, Chapel. he can fight, hes an assassin, his job is to somehow get at Vash while being technically employed by Knives.

this wolfwood has absolutely no struggle with himself as a Priest specifically. heck, its even giving him some confidence bc he actually knows his stuff and can get by with those priestly things alone. at least, i assume so, bc otherwise the pride thing would be very misplaced as he is revealed that he really wants out of the insane GHG business, and wants nothing to do with his coworkers, as it were.

but TriStamp Wolfwood is... different in that pride regard

this version of wolfwood introduces himself as an Undertaker. he's technically a Priest, but he clearly lacks so much pride that he chooses to be an Undertaker.

the narrative tracks since he's the guide to send Vash to hell in tristamp, but theres at least 1 more layer to this.

so, Shinto! Shinto has played a very big part in Japanese culture and history since idk the beginning of Japanese history, affecting society and culture and governance.

key thing for this post: Shinto has a concept named Kegare/Defilement, which you can think of as an accumulation of evil energy. bad energy. bad enough to attract misfortune, evil spirits, and evil evil evil bad bad bad. (ive actually written about this in video game context before if you wanna read it here)

Kegare is generated upon death, blood, menstruation, and all that. in some modern media, Kegare can also be depicted to be generated by an accumulation of negative emotions from people. but for the longest time, it was mainly Death. (oh and somewhat also women with the whole uh.... you know, menstruation, childbirth, and stillbirths etc.)

but: Kegare is NOT sin, and should not be seen as such.

old japan governance also used Caste System. so combine that with shinto, and society and here's the not fun stuff: we now have a discriminated class of people who did all of society's very necessary but deemed dirty jobs. these are the Butchers, Leatherworkers, Executioners, and Undertakers. (which is wild. a society would not be able to function without them.)

they are shunned, deemed too dirty, too tainted, too polluted to ever have a hope of having a better life. since social mobility wasnt a thing with Caste System in some eras. and coming too close to them means pollution on the self too.

the Caste System got abolished, and today the descendants are called Burakumin 部落民. they are still being discriminated against to this day. the remnants of the dirtiness with certain jobs still remain, especially with jobs that involves the dead. its also possible to know who is a descendant of one through family names, which can be used to trace family registry and sus out old residences etc.

youtube

feel free to watch the above video for a clearer explanation by a japanese man instead of just taking my word for it >_>

back to wolfwood.

studio orange making him go from Priest to Undertaker is likely rooted in a logic associated with this. that TriStamp wolfwood lacks the confidence to have a strong identity outside of GHG, whereas manga wolfwood has. that TriStamp wolfwood really does think of himself as trash and worthless even before outsiders' judgement, whereas manga wolfwood's struggle is more about an internal struggle of being lost.

manga wolfwood is also never truly free from his identity as part of the EOM until the very end.

but TriStamp wolfwood gets a full contract saying that hes free from the EOM (i assume!)

i think theres also additional implications but im losing braincells by the minute. the change makes so much sense and tracks so well that apart from the confidence thing, everything is more or less intact.

(worth possibly nothing also, I think TriStamp wolfwood isnt fully checking boxes of uhhh Normality in japanese context. hes dressed in a mess, hes not clean shaven, his skin is kinda dark and not fair, he speaks in non-standard japanese. but ymmv, he will be ok in kansai at least, but not fully fitting in in Capital Tokyo nor ex-Capital Kyoto.)

i also, admittedly, dont know much about the culture surrounding death and undertakers within the states or europe so i cant comment much on that aspect. im aware i must have missed something. on that front, sorry D:

anyway thats all i got for now! thanks for reading this long ass post!

Edit: smooshing a bunch of add ons that are important into this og post, originally here

#OOOOOOOOO#Tbh I've always wondered about the Japanese context#Because it's more straightforward here in the US I feel like#Also I love love love where this put Stampede Wolfwood#Because they DID say that Wolfwood is still finding his footing#His shirt is grey because he isn't settled in who he is yet#So I'm curious where they're gonna go#Anyway thank you for the wonderful meta as always#Trigun Meta#Trigun -@revenantghost

thank u for the tags once again! and for putting this on my dash bc i just remembered something as i looked through this post with fresh eyes again.

it might be important for a potential future plot point in Stampede. it's about water and some parallels with a potential baptism. (though there is 0 guarantee this addendum will happen, im going into wild speculation territory here)

there is technically 2 ways to purify Kegare. Harae and Misogi

Harae is performed by a shinto priest/ress with shinto rituals on a target to exorcise/purify them. this is external, and involves ritual tools. or even a dance or song.

Misogi can be performed by the self. this involves basically washing oneself in cold ass clean water. it can be in a moving water or still, so long as its clean. shinto priests usually do this before they perform a ritual themselves.

visitors to shinto shrines are expected to do the same at the water spots for their hands and mouth. this act is called temizuya but the concept is still the same

so uh

remember ep 10-12 where its shown that vash going into the Pool puts him in total disadvantage and was a whole thing that wolfwood stood outside for? and that there was at least a few post calling this Pool a baptism bit?

;)

yep. im thinking of wolfwood a potential shinto priest on top of the catholic variety. im gonna bet my 1 monster energy drink this pool trap will happen again and wolfwoof is gonna go swimming for a bit of his own free will, if this plot point comes up again ever

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigunbookclub #Youtube #additionally: the whole thing about shinto is the emphasis worshiping of spirits gods and NATURE #if vash is a Planty Plant this totally has parallels with how shintoism treats gods to some degree #tristamp vash is already a Yorishiro its already there

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gyutopia · 1 year ago

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world of sinners iii | sim jaeyun

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your parents are the head of one of the nation’s most lucrative syndicates and your older brother is heir to the throne which leaves you free to leave this world of evil behind. you’ve been waiting for this day for twenty years of your life, you can practically taste the freedom. what will you do, however, when your parents arrange a marriage for you to bind together their empire with the lee’s to stop a full on gang war?

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: sim jaeyun x f!reader ft lee heesung

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: mafia!au, arranged marriage!au

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 8.4k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: dark themes, mentions of drugs, mentions of violence, vulgar language, mentions of death, forced marriage, corruption, possessiveness, mentions of guns, attempted murder, talk of murder.

| masterlist | previous | next |

Three weeks have passed since your wedding to Jake, a union formed not out of love but necessity. The initial awkwardness between you two has subsided somewhat, replaced by a tentative friendship. Jake is often off at work, leaving you at home to explore the enormous house or hide away in your art studio. You’ve found a surprising new muse in Jake, and the past few weeks have seen you hardly putting down your paintbrush.

It’s a peaceful morning, and the sun filters softly through the curtains. You’re lost in the tranquility of your surroundings when Rose enters your room.

“Good morning, madam,” she says, her tone professional yet warm. “Your in-laws have requested your and Mr. Jaeyun’s presence for brunch today. Shall I help you prepare?”

A sense of dread settles in your stomach. Brunch with Jake’s family sounds taxing. Nevertheless, you comply. “Thank you, Rose.”

She nods and moves further into your room, showcasing a burgundy dress that matches Jake’s family color slung over her shoulder. “This will be perfect for today. Mr. Sim chose it for you.”

You thank her before heading to the bathroom for a refreshing shower. The warm water helps wake you up, and as you step out, you find your bed made and the dress neatly laid out. Once dressed, you admire the elegant fit before heading downstairs.

Jake is already ready, dressed in a suit with the first few buttons of his shirt undone and his hair slicked back. He looks up and smiles warmly at you, stepping closer to kiss your forehead and reach for your hand. “Good morning.”

He greets you warmly, the gesture catches you off guard. While the hostility between you has diminished, affection has not been a part of your relationship. Jake notices your confusion and offers an explanation.

“It’s just for the sake of appearances,” he says softly. “I don’t want my parents to pick up on any tension between us. It’s better if we start acting affectionate at home before we arrive.”

You nod, understanding his reasoning. Jake senses your unease and squeezes your hand gently. “Don’t worry. I know my family can be a bit much, but I’ll be right there with you.”

As you both prepare to leave, Jake explains, “They probably want to see how we’re functioning as a unit now. My father is keen on assessing how well we’re adjusting.”

You nod in understanding. “Do you think they’re happy with the arrangement?”

Jake looks thoughtful for a moment. “My father is satisfied as long as the business runs smoothly. My stepmother, on the other hand... well, she has her own opinions, as I’m sure you’ve seen.”

You chuckle lightly. “Kind of hard to miss.”

As you both get into the car, Jake starts the engine and glances at you. “How have you been feeling about everything?”

You take a deep breath. “It’s been an adjustment, like you said. But I think we’re handling it well. I’ve found a lot of peace in painting.”

Jake smiles. “I’d love to see your work sometime. I’m sure it’s incredible.”

You blush slightly, the majority of your work nowadays all contain some essence of Jake. You’re quick to brush off the compliment. “It’s nothing special. Just a hobby to pass the time.”

Jake frowns slightly, not buying your modesty. “I’m sure it’s more than just that. When we get back home, I’ll join you in the studio to take a look.”

You nod, feeling a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. “Alright. If you insist.”

The beginning of the drive to his family’s house is quiet at first, both of you lost in your thoughts. Eventually, Jake breaks the silence.

“It’s important to them that we present a strong front.” He says, glancing at you

You nod, understanding the importance of this brunch. “I’ll do my best. It’s just... a lot of pressure.”

Jake reaches over and takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I know. But we’re a team now, remember?”

You smile, feeling a bit more at ease. “Yeah, a team.”

The rest of the drive is filled with small talk, Jake making an effort to keep you relaxed. When you arrive, the grandeur of the house matches that of your own, with perfectly manicured lawns and vibrant flowers.

Jake parks the car and helps you out, his arm protectively around your waist as you walk inside. As you begin walking, you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the upcoming brunch.

The foyer is grand, with a sweeping staircase and chandeliers that catch the morning light. Jake's stepmother and father are already waiting in the sitting room.

“Jaeyun, my boy,” his father greets, his tone commanding yet warm. “It’s good to see you.”

“Father,” Jake replies with a nod. “Mother.”

Yerin gives you a once over, her eyes raking over your appearance. “I see you’ve managed to dress appropriately today.”

Before you can respond, Jake’s father intervenes. “Enough, dear,” he says sternly, his tone brooking no argument. “Let’s not start with criticism.”

Yerin purses her lips but remains silent. Jake’s father turns his attention back to you and Jake, his gaze more appraising. “How have you two been?”

Jake speaks up first, his tone steady. “We’re managing well, Father. We’re taking things one step at a time.”

You nod in agreement, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. “It’s been an adjustment, but we’re finding our rhythm.”

Jake’s father nods thoughtfully. “That’s good to hear, especially in times like these.”

Yerin, not entirely satisfied with the direction of the conversation, pipes up again. “And what about your duties as a wife? Are you keeping up with everything?”

You feel a flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck, you haven’t left the house since Jake’s last meeting. You know you’ll have to pick up the slack soon but you’ve been enjoying the peace of being at home away from all the bustling business deals. “I’m doing my best, Mother. There’s a lot to learn, but I’m committed.”

Jake squeezes your hand gently, offering silent support. “She’s been doing great,” he adds. “Happy to have her by my side.”

Jake’s father seems to approve of Jake’s response. “That’s good.” He turns to face his wife and places a hand on her hip. “Why don’t you take ____ to look at the garden? Jaeyun and I will join you once Heeseung arrives. It’ll give us a chance to catch up and discuss some business matters.”

You hesitate, not wanting to be alone with Jake’s mother. Sensing your unease, Jake leans in and kisses your forehead gently. “It’s alright. Go ahead.”

You nod, feeling reassured by his gesture. “Okay.”

Yerin gestures for you to follow her and begins walking away. “Come along, dear. Let’s make sure everything is in order for brunch.”

As you walk away, you glance back at Jake one last time. He gives you a small, reassuring smile before turning to face his father.

You follow Yerin through the lavish mansion, trying to calm the nerves fluttering in your stomach. As you step into the garden, you’re greeted by the sight of meticulously maintained flower beds and elegant topiaries. The tranquility of the garden provides a stark contrast to the tension inside.

Yerin turns to you, her demeanor still hard and guarded. “The garden is a reflection of our family’s legacy. It requires constant care and attention, much like the relationships within the family.”

You nod, understanding the metaphor she’s drawing. “It’s beautiful. You must put a lot of work into it.”

Yerin’s lips curve into a small smirk. “We do. It’s a labor of love. Just like marriage.”

The two of you continue to walk, Yerin spares you a glance before asking, “Any plans for children soon? It’s important for the family to have heirs.”

Her question catches you off guard, and you feel heat creeping up your neck. Despite the growing camaraderie, your relationship with Jake has remained strictly platonic. You can't help but wonder if Jake even sees you in a sexual way. His kindness and support are undeniable, but there’s a distance between you that makes you question your sex appeal.

Yerin’s gaze is piercing, and you scramble to find a suitable answer. “We haven’t really discussed it in depth,” you say, choosing your words carefully. “There’s still so much we’re getting used to, and with Jake’s responsibilities, it hasn’t been a priority.”

Yerin’s lips press into a thin line. “Responsibilities are one thing, but ensuring the continuation of our family’s legacy is paramount. You need to prioritize that.”

You nod, trying to hide your discomfort. “Of course, mother. We understand the importance.”

She stops walking and turns to face you fully, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Marriage isn’t just about companionship. It’s about duty and preserving what generations before you have built. Don’t lose sight of that.”

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of her expectations pressing down on you. “I understand.”

Her gaze softens slightly, but her tone remains firm. “Good. It’s also crucial to show a united front. People are watching, always. They need to see that you and Jaeyun are strong together.”

As she speaks, you can’t help but think about the unspoken divide between you and Jake. How can you present a united front when you’re not even sharing the same space? The irony isn’t lost on you, and you wonder if Jake feels the same pressure.

“I know,” you reply quietly. “We’re working on it.”

Yerin gives a small nod, her expression still scrutinizing. “See that you do. The last thing we need is any sign of weakness.”

Embarrassed, you nod, “Yes, mother…”

The conversation leaves you feeling unsettled and overwhelmed. As you continue to set the table, you find yourself lost in thought. The expectations of this marriage are heavy, while Jake has proven himself to not be all that bad, his family has become a major source of stress.

As you finish setting the table, Jake and his father join you. The conversation is stilted, filled with polite but strained exchanges. Jake’s father, with a faux smile, breaks the silence.

“So, how do you two find living together?” Jaehee asks, his eyes piercing into yours.

“We’re managing well, Abeonim,” Jake replies calmly. “It’s new and different, but we’re working through it together.”

Yerin sniffs delicately, her gaze critical as she looks you over. “And how is the house? Are you finding everything to your liking?”

“It’s beautiful,” you respond politely. “I’ve enjoyed exploring and getting to know the place.”

Yerin raises an eyebrow. “And what about the prospect of children? I assume you both have discussed it?”

The question catches you off guard, you can see the evil glint in Yerin’s eyes as she waits for Jake’s response. Having already heard your side you know she expects Jake to fumble in front of his father. You glance at Jake, trying to subtly shake your head but he only squeezes your hand under the table.

“We haven’t really had time to think about that yet,” Jake answers smoothly. “We’re still getting to know each other and settling into our roles.”

Jaehee leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “Marriage is not just about partnership but also about legacy. It’s important to think about the future.”

You feel a knot form in your stomach at the familiarity of the words. “We understand that,” you say quietly. “We’re just taking things slow.”

The room falls silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Yerin’s lips thin into a disapproving line, but Jaehee nods slowly.

“I see,” he says finally. “It’s good to take your time and build a strong foundation. But don’t forget the importance of continuing the family line.”

You stiffly nod, feeling as if you might explode if you hear one more mention of your womb and the expectations of a baby, a baby you don’t think will ever exist. You can’t imagine Jake making a move to ever bed you. You wonder if he’ll find another woman just as his father did, if he’ll fall in love with her and give his father an heir that way. He may be kind to you and has shown that for now the two of you are a team but at the end of the day he’s still the son of Lee Jaehee and heir to the most powerful mafia in all of Asia, you can’t imagine him never having a child.

Jaehee’s eyes narrow slightly. "If you don’t mind me asking, why the delay? The sooner you start, the better. An heir is crucial."

You hesitate, but before you can speak, Yerin interjects, "I've heard some rumors that you two aren't even sharing a bed."

Her comment hangs in the air, heavy and accusatory. Jake’s father’s gaze sharpens. "Is this true, Jaeyun?"

You feel a lick of ice run through your veins- not only do you feel violated by the fact that Yerin seemingly has spies planted in your home, reporting back to her but you also feel angry at the fact that your own staff, staff that you have treated sincerely from the start, has been trading your secrets to your mother-in-law who clearly has a dislike for you.

Jake takes a deep breath, but you decide to address the elephant in the room. "It’s true. We haven’t consummated our marriage yet."

The silence that follows your admission is deafening. Yerin looks smug, while Jaehee's face turns red with anger.

"That is unacceptable," Jaehee says, his voice low and dangerous. "An heir is not just a formality; it's a necessity for the stability of our empire."

Jake, sensing the need to de-escalate the situation, squeezes your hand. "We understand the importance, Father. We just needed some time to adjust. We’ll handle it."

Yerin, not wanting to let go of the topic, presses further. "If it’s taking this long, perhaps a honeymoon is in order. Sometimes a change of scenery can work wonders."

You feel your patience wearing thin but manage to maintain your composure. "Thank you for the suggestion. We'll consider it."

Jaehee waves his hand dismissively. "I’ll arrange it. You two will leave by the end of the month. I expect results."

Before either of you can respond, Heeseung strolls in, a cigarette dangling from his lips. His father scowls at him. “You’re late.”

Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, ignoring his father’s glare. “It’s called being fashionably late.”

His mother fusses over him, but he brushes her off, taking a seat and grabbing a mimosa. “He was probably with one of his whores,” his father mutters, the disdain clear in his voice after hearing his wife ask about his whereabouts.

Heeseung scoffs. “Why pretend? Everyone knows the real reason we’re here—to see how the happy couple is doing.”

His comment cuts through the fragile peace, and his father’s eyes narrow. “That’s enough Heeseung.”

Heeseung, however, isn’t done. He leans forward, a sly grin on his face. “So, Jaeyunie, how’s married life treating you? Is the pussy any good? I heard that being tied down to the same bi-”

Jake shoots him a warning look. “Finish that sentence and I’ll kill you myself.”

Heeseung chuckles. “Who’s the pussy whipped one now?”

Jaehee interrupts, his tone firm. “Enough, Heeseung. We’re here to enjoy a family meal, not to bicker.”

Heeseung shrugs, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Just making conversation.”

Jaehee sighs, rubbing his temples. “Jaeyun, take your wife and show her around the house, I need to have a word with your brother.” Jake stands, helping you up from your chair.

Once inside, the tension eases slightly. Jake glances at you, a small smile on his lips. “Where would you like to go?”

You think for a moment before responding. “How about your bedroom? I’d like to see what you were like growing up.”

Jake looks surprised but nods. “Uh, alright. Let’s go.”

As you walk through the house, you notice the ornate decorations and family portraits lining the walls. When you reach Jake’s old room, he opens the door and gestures for you to enter.

When you enter his childhood room, the space is surprisingly empty, devoid of personal items. No posters, no decorations—just a king-sized bed and a desk with a single picture frame.

You glance at Jake, puzzled. He sees your questioning look and explains, “I didn’t want to live with my father. I grew up with my mother until I was six and was forced to move in here. My father couldn’t deal with my anger issues though and shipped me off to a boarding school in Australia after a year, I was rarely home until Uni.”

You nod at the new information, guess that explains the thick Aussie accent you picked up on when you first met. “Anger issues?”

Jake nods, “it’s gotten better over the years, moving in with my father was just a huge adjustment. No need to worry about me ever losing my temper with you.”

You nod and walk around the room, trying to imagine Jake in this space. “It’s hard to believe this is where you called home.”

No reply comes and you walk up to the desk and examine it. You pick up the picture frame, studying the image of a pregnant woman. “Is this your mother?”

Jake nods, a soft smile on his lips, though you can see the pain in his eyes. “Yes.”

You did your fair share of research on Jake once your father had made it clear that this marriage wasn’t something you’d be escaping but you found it incredibly hard to find any information on the male. It was almost like Jake was a ghost up until his father made the announcement of him taking over.

You had Anton run multiple background checks to see if he could find anything but all he had to offer was the announcement Veridian made about Jake’s birth and how the rumors of him being the son of an affair were true.

Aside from that, the only public information about Jake is that he attended a prestigious international boarding school in Australia, graduated from Seoul National University Suma Kum Laude and that he’s now married to you. Nobody knows who his mother is or much about his childhood.

His father faced backlash from the Korean public once news of the affair was made known, you heard from your father that keeping Jake hidden was a PR move to clean up the image of Veridian. It seems that’s another thing you and Jake have in common, fathers who prioritize their businesses before their own children.

You hesitate before asking the next question. “Where is she?”

Jake’s expression hardens. “She’s dead.”

You’re ready to apologize, but Jake continues. “My stepmother hated that my father had an affair with my mom. She wanted both of us dead, but when my dad found out I’d be a boy, he hid my mother away until she gave birth. She ran away to protect us, but my father found her when I was six and had her killed to make his wife happy.”

You step closer, instinctively wanting to comfort him. You bring him into a hug, and he holds you tightly. When you pull away, you’re still close, your faces inches apart. Jake’s eyes drop to your lips, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours.

Just as your lips are about to meet, the door opens, and a maid enters “Your father is waiting for you to continue the brunch.”

The moment is shattered and you pull back, flustered. Jake sighs and nods. “Thank you, we’ll be right there.”

He releases you gently from the hug, his gaze lingering on your face for a moment longer than usual. He clears his throat, breaking the silence. “We should get back to brunch before my father gets more impatient.”

You nod, feeling the tension from the almost kiss still hanging in the air. “Yeah, we should.”

Jake leads you out of the room, his hand resting lightly on your back as you walk down the hallway. The silence between you is palpable, each step echoing your unspoken thoughts. When you reach the top of the staircase, you hear the television in the living room, its volume turned up.

As you begin to descend the stairs, a news anchor’s voice catches your attention. “Breaking news: The chief of police has officially been declared missing. Authorities are seeking any information regarding his last known whereabouts…”

You stop in your tracks, your breath hitching. Jake notices your sudden pause and turns to look at you, concern etched on his face. “What’s wrong?”

You swallow hard, your mind racing. You remember seeing Sungchan with the chief a few weeks ago, engaged in a heated exchange. Could your brother be involved in this? Your mind also goes back to your own meeting with the chief just before the wedding, when you handed over his monthly bribe money and discussed business. If he was truly missing, this could ruin you.

Jake’s voice pulls you back to the present. “Hey, are you okay?”

You force a smile, trying to mask your anxiety. “Uh, yeah. I just…umm I recognize the chief from some old business deals.”

Jake’s eyes narrow slightly, not fully convinced but not pressing the issue. “Do you want me to make some calls? See if any of my men know something?”

You nod, grateful for his support. “Yes, please. That would help.”

Jake takes out his phone and steps aside to make a call. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. When Jake returns, he gives you a reassuring nod. “I have someone looking into it now. We should go back to the garden and wrap up brunch.”

You both continue down the stairs, the weight of the news still heavy on your mind. When you reach the garden, you notice that Heeseung is no longer there. Jake’s father and stepmother are engaged in conversation, but they pause as you approach.

“Where’s Heeseung?” Jake asks, looking around.

“He had to leave,” Jaehee replies, his tone dismissive. “Something about an urgent matter.”

You exchange a glance with Jake, the timing of Heeseung’s departure striking both of you as odd. However, neither of you voice your suspicions. Instead, you take your seats, and the conversation resumes, albeit with a lingering tension.

Suddenly, Jaehee's phone rings. He glances at the screen and frowns before answering.

"Yes?"

You and Jake exchange a look, sensing the shift in the atmosphere. Jaehee's expression darkens as he listens to the caller, his jaw tightening. "What do you mean he's missing?" His voice is low but laced with agitation. "How long has it been?"

There's a pause as the person on the other end responds. Jaehee's fingers drum impatiently on the table. "And you're sure there's no trace of him? This is a disaster."

Another pause, and Jaehee's eyes narrow.

"Find out who's responsible. We can't afford any loose ends."

He ends the call abruptly and pockets his phone, his expression stormy. Jake leans forward, his concern evident. "What was that about, Father?"

Jaehee sighs, rubbing his temples. "The chief of police has been declared missing. This isn't just bad—it's potentially catastrophic."

Your heart skips a beat. Jake glances at you before turning back to his father. "Why is it such a big deal? I mean, I know he was important, but-"

Jaehee cuts him off, his tone sharp. "Jaeyun, do you have any idea how many of our business associates have ties to the chief? He was the linchpin keeping several of our deals in place. If he's really been taken, and it's by any of our enemies, we're looking at a shitshow of epic proportions. Not to forget we’re already on the FBI’s radar, we can not afford any potential leaks."

The word "shitshow" hangs heavily in the air, and you feel a chill run down your spine.

Jake's face hardens as he processes his father's words. "Who do you think did it?"

Jaehee shakes his head. "I don't know yet. But we need to prepare for the worst. If our enemies have him, they could use him to dismantle our operations piece by piece. The information he has it’s... it's invaluable."

You speak up, your voice hesitant. "Maybe he's already dead."

Jaehee's gaze snaps to you, his eyes intense. For a moment, you think he's going to reprimand you, but then he sighs deeply.

"That would be the best-case scenario. If he's dead, we can at least control the narrative, claim he was taken out by a rival or in a random act of violence. But if he's alive and talking..."

He trails off, the implication clear. Jake's hand tightens around yours under the table.

"So, what do we do?"

Jaehee's expression hardens with resolve. "If he's alive, we find him and we kill him ourselves if necessary. We can't afford to have our entire syndicate compromised. Every second he's missing increases the risk."

Yerin interjects, her tone composed. "Do you have any leads?"

Jaehee shakes his head. "Not yet. But I have people working on it. Jaeyun, I need you to reach out to our contacts, see if anyone has heard anything. We need to be proactive but discrete."

Jake nods, his face set in determination. "I’ll get on it right away."

You feel an odd surge of anxiety at the thought of Jake diving headfirst into this dangerous situation. "Is there anything I can do to help?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jaehee looks at you thoughtfully. "Just keep your eyes and ears open. If you hear anything, no matter how trivial it may seem, let us know immediately."

You nod, your resolve hard. Jake's hand squeezes yours again, offering silent support. "It’ll be okay," he says quietly, his eyes locked onto yours.

Jaehee stands, his posture commanding. "I'll make some calls. Yerin, keep an eye on things here. And you two," he says, looking at you and Jake, "stay vigilant. We can't afford any mistakes."

With that, he leaves the table, his phone already to his ear as he steps into the house.

Yerin watches him go, her face passive. "This family has faced challenges before, and we've always come out on top. This will be no different."

Jake nods, his jaw set. "We'll do whatever it takes."

You look at him, feeling fearful. You’ve come to understand that you don’t like Jake when he’s in his leader mode. He becomes cold, calculated and ruthless.

You all finish your meal in relative silence. When the meal ends, you and Jake excuse yourselves, making your way back to the car. Jake starts the engine and glances at you. "Are you really okay?"

You take a deep breath, your thoughts racing. "I don't know. I'm worried about what this could mean for me, for Sungchan."

Jake reaches over and takes your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "We'll figure it out. Together."

You nod, feeling a little lightheaded at the way he says the word with so much conviction. "Yeah, together."

As you drive, your mind races with thoughts about the chief, Sungchan, and the potential fallout from all this. Your phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. You frown and decline the call, feeling uneasy.

A few minutes later, the phone rings again with the same unknown number. Jake glances at it and then at you, his expression serious. "You should answer it."

Reluctantly, you pick up the call. "Hello?"

There's a heavy silence, then the sound of labored breathing. After a moment, a weak voice whimpers, “…S..sa.ve... me."

Before you can respond, the line cuts off. You stare at the phone, shaken. The voice was so faint and distorted, you couldn't even recognize who it was.

Jake's eyes are on you, concern etched on his face. "What was that?"

You force a shrug, trying to keep your voice steady. "Probably just a spam call."

He watches you for a moment, then nods, seemingly accepting your explanation. The car ride continues in tense silence until you reach a stoplight, and Jake takes an unexpected turn.

"Jake, where are we going?" you ask, confusion lacing your words.

He smiles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "I have a surprise for you."

"What's the occasion?" you ask, a blush creeping up your cheeks at the gesture.

"To celebrate being partners," he says simply. He glances at you and smirks, “and a gift for surviving brunch with my family.”

You can't help but smile, feeling a flutter in your chest. "That's sweet of you."

He drives for a bit longer until you pull into the parking lot of the Museum of Modern Art. You look at him, puzzled. "A museum?"

Jake nods, a proud look on his face. "I know how much you love art. I thought we could spend some time together doing something you enjoy."

You feel a rush of gratitude and warmth. Jake has yet again gone above and beyond. You wonder how much more your heart can take before you fall for him. "Thank you, Jake. This means a lot."

You both continue through the gallery, stopping occasionally for you to explain different pieces and their historical contexts. Jake listens attentively, asking insightful questions and clearly enjoying learning about the art world from your perspective.

At one point, you come across a serene landscape painting. "This is by Claude Monet. It's one of his famous Water Lilies series."

Jake's eyes soften as he looks at the delicate brushstrokes. "It's beautiful. Peaceful."

You nod. "Monet was a master of capturing light and atmosphere. He painted these in his garden at Giverny. It's like he's inviting us into his private world."

Jake smiles. "I like that. It's like a glimpse into his soul."

You move on to a bold, geometric piece by Piet Mondrian. "This one's called 'Composition with Red, Blue, and Yellow.' Mondrian was all about simplicity and balance."

Jake studies the painting, the intersecting lines and primary colors. "It's so different from the others we've seen. Almost mathematical."

"Exactly," you say. "He believed in reducing art to its purest form. It's all about finding harmony."

Jake chuckles. "You're a little art geek huh? Really passionate about this, aren't you?"

You blush slightly. "I guess I am. Art has always been a way for me to escape and express myself."

Jake's expression softens. "I'm glad you're sharing it with me. I feel like I'm getting to know you better through this."

As you continue to explore, you come across a striking sculpture by Auguste Rodin. "This is 'The Thinker.' It's one of the most famous sculptures in the world."

Jake walks around the statue, taking in its intricate details. "The detail is incredible. It's like you can feel his thoughts."

You smile. "That's what makes Rodin so amazing. He could capture human emotion and thought in such a tangible way."

Jake nods, clearly impressed. "It's like he's frozen in a moment of deep contemplation."

You spend hours wandering through the museum, discussing various artworks and sharing your thoughts and feelings about them. Jake's genuine interest and engagement make the experience even more enjoyable. You feel a growing connection between the two of you, a bond that goes beyond the superficial.

As you leave the museum, the sun is beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the city. Jake holds your hand as you walk back to the car. "Thank you for today," you say softly. "I had a great time."

Jake smiles. "So did I. I'm glad we got to spend this time together."

You drive in comfortable silence for a while, the city lights flickering outside the car windows. Eventually, Jake breaks the silence. "There's something I need to do before we head home."

You glance at him curiously. "What's that?"

"I need to stop by the packaging warehouse," Jake explains. "I need to speak with Sunghoon and Jay about how to distribute this batch. We're running low on baggie boys, and with the chief's disappearance, I’m sure the police are cracking down on drug deals."

You nod, understanding the urgency. "Alright. I'll come with you."

Jake looks at you, a mix of surprise and gratitude in his eyes. "You don't have to, but I'd appreciate the company."

The drive to the warehouse is short, and Jake parks the car in a secluded area. The building is nondescript, blending in with the industrial surroundings. Jake leads you inside, where Sunghoon and Jay are already waiting.

"Hey, boss," Sunghoon greets Jake with a nod. "We were just going over the inventory. It's getting tight."

Jake frowns, his mind clearly focused on the problem at hand. "We need to figure out a way to stretch what we have and find new suppliers. The last thing we need is a shortage right now."

Jay nods in agreement. "With the police cracking down, it's going to get harder to move product. We need to be careful."

Jake turns to you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Any ideas?"

You hesitate for a moment, then speak up. "Maybe we could diversify our distribution methods. Use different channels to move the product and keep the police off our trail."

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow. "Not a bad idea. We could use some of our legitimate businesses as fronts."

Jake nods, a look of approval in his eyes. "That's a good start. We'll need to be smart and stay one step ahead."

Sunghoon clears his throat, looking hesitant. "I know it's bad timing, but..." He trails off, unsure of how to continue.

Jake sighs at his best friend. "Just spit it out, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon takes a deep breath. "The shipment of overseas ammunition we ordered has disappeared."

Jake is silent for a moment, then his voice is deadly calm. "How the fuck does a cargo freight carrying sixty thousand dollars worth of ammunition go missing?"

Sunghoon scrambles to explain. "It went missing a few minutes after leaving the harbor earlier today. We've been trying to find it, but so far, no luck."

Jake's anger is palpable, his fists clenching at his sides. You place a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down. "Jake, you need to stay level headed."

He heeds your words, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "Keep me posted, Sunghoon. We need to find that shipment before tomorrow. It's meant for the Byun's, and Baekhyun isn't known for being a patient man."

Sunghoon and Jay nod, leaving to figure out the situation. As they walk away, you turn to Jake, noticing the tension in his shoulders. "Come on, let's go to your office. You need to relax."

Jake leads you into his office, closing the door behind him. You can see the stress etched into his features, the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. You guide him to sit behind his desk, leaning beside him against the table.

"You've had a rough day," you say softly. "Let me help you unwind."

Jake’s eyes darken as he looks at you from his seated positions “And how do you plan to do that?”

Jake knows very well that his question opens the door for something more, more room for exploring the more intimate parts of your relationship and for a second he thinks he may have jumped the gun. Though when you lift yourself from his desk, looking into his eyes with desire and need swirling in your irises, he gulps as he thinks he may not have made a mistake after all.

Jake swallows, looking into your expectant eyes as you look at him innocently, sparing a glance at his thighs; deliciously manspreading. You try to remain calm about it, taking a deep breath and going all in, tentatively bring your hands to his chest and hook one of your legs over him.

You bravely straddle Jake’s lap in a single moment, settling above his crotch as you peer at him with an unreadable expression.

Jake freezes, eyes wide as his hands naturally fall around your hips sitting on him, and he can’t help but grow weak at the innocent look in your eyes though your body is doing the contrary. He only watches as your eyes linger on his soft lips, his own hands canvasing up to grip your sides with an emotion he could only label as want, eyes filled with anticipation.

“I can fix it… like this.” You speak, hand sliding up to grab Jake’s jaw. You don’t pause to think, mind blank as you lean forward and press your mouth against Jake’s in a single second. Jake doesn’t even have time to feel surprised, in shock for an instant before he begins relishing in the familiar sensation of your lips, warm palms smoothing over your sides.

You slide closer to his body, feeling your chest push against his own as you deepen the kiss, slowly with a hint of lust that leaks into the way you began grinding your body against his, needing more. Jake gladly accepts that, opening his mouth to let his tongue roam your own.

He tongue swipes your bottom lip, loving the wet feeling and you open right up for his taking, all-consuming and head-spinning.

You sneak your hands up into his hair, tugging at the base lightly and Jake groans into your mouth. You become more impatient for friction, something to quell the arousal shooting through your veins, and so you begin moving yourself over his welcoming crotch. You feel him twitch underneath you, beginning to rock himself along with your smaller body, pushing his hips up into you.

Your mouths begin moving more harshly the more time passes, full on making out as you move more urgently against him. He catches your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away from you, tugging on the flesh as he breathes for much needed air, moaning as your foreheads find each other.

“Let me take care of you Jake.” You breathe hotly. “I’m yours, aren’t I?”

Jake instantly feels ignited, his cock jolting at just the feeling of you straddling him and he drags his tongue along the inside of his cheek, smirking.

The heat of Jake’s stare then turns dark as he says, “all mine.”

For some odd and unknown reason, Jake finds himself wanting to be the only one who gets to have you; maybe it’s because he’s never felt this way before, or has never felt so strongly about it. But it constantly eats at his brain, thinking of the possibility of other men that got to kiss you just like this, got to have you sit on their lap just like this before he came into the picture.

And he fucking hates it.

Though now that the proverbial line has been irreversibly crossed all Jake can feel in this moment is his sheer desire, his incessant, passionate desire for you and how it has been growing. Ever since the kiss from three weeks ago at lunch, his mind has been spiraling.

He wants to kiss you all the fucking time.

“I need to take you home, baby.”

You nod, that’s exactly what you want. “Please.” You whimper.

Jake is quick to help you to your feet and shift his pants around to hide his raging boner. He grabs you by the back of your elbow and leads you out of his office then the warehouse all together.

He walks you back to the car, his hand gently resting on your lower back. "Can’t wait to get you home," he all but moans.

As Jake starts the car and begins driving, the city lights blur past. You can feel the tension from the day's events slowly ebbing away only to be replaced by a different kind of tension.

He glances at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You know," he starts, his tone borderline serious, "I've been thinking a lot about us lately."

You look at him, curious. "What do you mean?"

Jake takes a deep breath, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. "I mean, I want more. I want us to be more than just a team…and if we’re going to fuck, I want us to be more than people who just sleep with each other."

Your heart skips a beat. "Jake, I..."

Before you can respond, the deafening sound of gunshots pierces the air. Jake's eyes widen as he swerves the car, narrowly avoiding the bullets that shatter the rear windshield.

"Get down!" Jake yells, pushing you down as low as you can go. He maneuvers the car through the empty streets of Seoul, trying to shake off the assailants.

You can hear the gunfire getting closer, the bullets pinging off the car. You're frozen in fear, the reality of the situation paralyzing you. Jake reaches over and pulls you down even further just as a bullet crashes through the window on your side, embedding itself in the backseat.

"Hold on!" Jake shouts. He hits the gas, the car lurching forward as he attempts to outmaneuver the shooters. The assailants' car pulls up alongside yours, and you can see the muzzle flashes as they fire again. Jake swerves violently in their direction, sending the other car careening off the road and into a ditch.

Jake slams on the brakes and pulls out a gun from the console, handing you a spare. "If anyone comes near the car, shoot them," he orders, his voice firm and unyielding.

You nod, gripping the gun tightly as Jake gets out of the car. You watch him approach the other vehicle, his movements calculated and purposeful. You can see his lips moving as he questions the driver and shooter, but you can't hear anything over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

Suddenly, Jake lifts his gun and fires, the shots echoing in the night. He stands there for a moment, looking down at the bodies before turning and heading back to the car.

Your anxiety is palpable, but not because of what you just witnessed Jake do. The realization that someone tried to kill you is overwhelming. Jake come back to the car, standing in front of your door, his expression unreadable.

"Hand me the burner phone from the glove compartment," he says calmly. You do as you're told, your hands trembling slightly.

Jake dials a number and waits for a moment. When someone answers, he simply says, "Crimson dove." Then he hangs up, wipes the phone clean, tosses it to the ground and stomps on it before getting into the car and speeds away from the scene, his focus entirely on getting you both to safety.

The remainder of the drive is silent, the tension settling once again, thick as ever. Gone is the sexual desire and want. Instead, in its place is anxiety and anger.

You can't shake the feeling of unease, the fear that still lingers from the attack. When you finally pull into an opening at the top of a hill leading to a tiny home, you spot Sunghoon and Jay standing at the front of the house, their expressions grim.

"What the hell is going on?" Sunghoon demands as Jake helps you out of the car.

Jake's jaw tightens. "Someone put out a hit on us," he says, his voice cold and controlled.

Jay looks shocked. "What the hell? Are you both okay?"

"We're fine," Jake replies. "But we need to act fast. Jay, I need you to go clean up the scene. The car is in a ditch on the outskirts of town."

Jay nods. "Got it. I'll call Sunoo to come and take care of your car."

"Good. Sunghoon, stay here with me. We need to figure out what's going on. First, the missing ammunition shipment, and now this. There’s no way they aren’t connected."

Sunghoon's expression hardens. "We'll get to the bottom of it."

Jake takes a deep breath, his hand still on the small of your back, a silent reassurance. "Let's go inside," he says, guiding you toward the house.

When you step inside Jake doesn't waste any time. He begins pacing the room, his mind clearly working through the details of the attack.

"Sunghoon," he starts, "we need to double-check our security. Make sure there are no leaks. I want a full sweep of our network."

Sunghoon nods, already pulling out his phone to make the necessary calls.

Jay returns, his expression tense. "The scene is being cleared as we speak. Sunoo is on his way to take care of the car."

"Good," Jake replies. "Now, let's focus on the ammunition shipment. I want to know who had access to it and who could have known about our movements."

You watch as Jake effortlessly takes control of the situation, his leadership and anger evident. Despite the chaos, you feel a sense of security knowing he's in charge. A complete change of heart compared to this morning at brunch, God that seems like forever ago now.

Hours pass as the men work tirelessly, making calls and gathering information. You stay close to Jake, offering support where you can. The fear from earlier lingers, but the resolve to find out who targeted you burns even stronger.

As the night wears on, Jake finally turns to you, his expression softening for the first time since the attack. "Are you okay?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nod, managing a small smile. "I will be. As long as we're together."

Jake pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms strong and protective around you. "Together," he murmurs.

You nod against his chest, playing with the buttons on his dress shirt. You pull away when you hear footsteps approaching. It's Jay, looking serious as ever.

"Sunghoon and I are leaving now to follow up on some leads," Jay informs him, his tone brisk and professional.

Jake nods, his expression hardening again. "Good. Keep me updated on anything you find."

Jay gives a quick nod, and with a final glance at you, he turns and leaves with Sunghoon. The door closes behind them, and the house feels eerily quiet.

You follow Jake into the living room, the tension from earlier still lingering. Both of you sit on the couch, and Jake wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You nestle into his embrace, finding comfort in his warmth.

After a moment of silence, you murmur, "Crimson dove."

Jake freezes at your words, his body tensing. You pull away slightly to look at him, curiosity and concern in your eyes. "What does it mean?"

Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's a secret code Heeseung and I came up with when we were younger. During the year I stayed with my dad, Heeseung and I were inseparable. Whenever our dad would get on my nerves and I felt my anger issues start to act up, Heeseung told me to just call out 'crimson dove,' and he'd come running to help calm me down."

He smiles bitterly, the memory clearly a mix of fondness and pain. "Heeseung used to be a good older brother to me."

You comfortingly pat his back. "Does it mean anything special?"

Jake laughs softly, shaking his head. "When I asked Heeseung why 'crimson dove,' he just shrugged and said because it sounded tough."

You laugh with him, the tension easing slightly. "Sounds like something Heeseung would say."

Jake's smile lingers for a moment before he continues. "I figured there would be some opposition once I took over and would need a safe phrase or word for when that trouble came knocking. 'Crimson dove' was the first thing that came to mind."

You look at him, your expression thoughtful. "And the safe house?"

Jake nods. "Jay found it. He decided it would be our meeting point if a 'crimson dove' situation ever happened. The three of us, now four including you, are the only ones who know about its existence. Jay and Sunghoon are my closest friends. Sunghoon was meant to keep a close eye on me while I was abroad, and Jay is the son of my father's right-hand man. He's the one who helped me find my role in this world. Jay, in a way, has become like an older brother to me."

You reach out, placing a hand on Jake's cheek. "I'm sorry Heeseung has changed."

Jake shrugs, leaning in to peck your lips. "It's not your fault."

You stare at each other in silence, the tension giving way to a different kind of intensity. The desire in his eyes mirrors your own. Slowly, you lean in and kiss Jake more passionately, your hands threading through his hair.

He responds immediately, his arms tightening around you as he deepens the kiss. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in this moment. His touch is both gentle and demanding, a perfect reflection of the complex man he is.

Your hands explore the contours of his back, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. Jake's hands are just as busy, one tangled in your hair, the other tracing patterns down your spine.

As the kiss continues, you can feel the day's stress melting away, replaced by a fiery need. Jake pulls you even closer, if that’s possible, his lips never leaving yours. When you finally break apart for air, you're both breathing heavily, eyes locked in a heated gaze.

"I can't lose you," he whispers against your lips.

"You won't," you assure him, your voice equally breathless. "We're in this together, remember?"

Jake nods, his forehead resting against yours. "Together," he repeats, his voice filled with an emotion you can’t quite place.

The kiss resumes, this time even more fervent. Your body presses against his as his hands roam your back, exploring and memorizing every curve. The passion between you is undeniable, a testament to the bond you now share.

As the intensity builds, you pull back slightly, looking into his eyes. "Jake..."

He looks into your eyes, desperately searching them for any sign of discomfort.

“I want you.”

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