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#like so much is going to change in my family now
familygazaamal · 2 days
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The only thing I have left is my children
After losing everything and the people dearest to me, I didn't know what to do but think about saving my children's lives and getting them out of the war zone. Providing them with the simplest necessities of life. Please donate or share the link.
Magdy is a very diligent student. His life was regular and routine. Since the morning he was preparing to go to school with all his love and passion for studying and meeting his friends. He would come back from school, change his clothes, eat lunch, and rest a little. Then he starts writing his homework and reading his lessons, then he plays a little with his brothers, then he sits with his father in the evening. But his father has now been away from him since before the war, and he misses him very much. Majid has a cat that he loves very much and is very attached to. But the war turned his life upside down
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Walid, 8 years old. He loves football very much and loves Cristiano Ronaldo and Messi. A year of his life has passed, and another year may pass due to the war. Walid hopes to return to his life, see his friends, and return to playing football and watching football matches. Please support Walid to return to his normal life.
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Abdul Rahim is 7 years old. He loves drawing, coloring, and all kinds of arts. He always finds room in paintings to show his talent, and he also loves mathematical problems. He is a diligent and diligent student in school and a top student, but he has been out of school for a long time and no longer has any colors or sketchbook. He sees children dying around him every day, and he's so afraid he'll be next.
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My daughter Amal, this little girl who turned one year old two months ago, this little girl who did not see her father because he traveled when she was forty days old, the little girl who did not live her childhood like other children in the world. In the world, Amal is always exposed to diseases due to immune deficiency and because of food and water contamination. Amal misses her father every day and grows up without seeing her father, all because of this war.
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@a-shade-of-blue @tortiefrancis @tsaricides @flower-tea-fairies @riding-with-the-wild-hunt
@visenyasdragons @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @brutaliakhoa @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda
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@illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness
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kingsoowolves · 2 days
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what comes after | jsc
pairing: college fwb!sungchan x fem!reader word count: 21.4k
author’s note: soooo, I’m back to writing after a long break. this is my first riize fic and Sungchan practically hauled this monster out of my insides until it became 21k. I wrote most of this while listening to sabrina carpenter’s new album and i think sharpest tool, juno and lie to girls fit really well with the theme of this work. english is not my first language, so please be kind if you're going to point out any mistakes. I hope you guys like this.
contents: smut. some fluff. angst, angst & angst (specially towards the end). switch!reader and switch!sungchan. sex with a condom, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving). pet names. ass man!sungchan. reader has thoughts on family trauma and self-hatred. random idols mentioned for worldbuilding. sungchan is pretty much an asshole in the end. no HEA.
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You feel pathetic. With a raincoat covered in water splatters and standing on your favorite white sneakers – now mud covered and wet – in front of your situationship’s apartment after ringing the doorbell, you truly feel like an idiot.
It’s been over two weeks since he last texted you and here you are, waiting for him to open his door after calling him on a whim, asking for permission to come and see him. But it was a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester and when you finished your last exam of the day and the rain started pouring down while you were on the bus on your way home, your heart made a last-minute decision to ring him up.
So now here you are, feeling pathetic.
Surprisingly, despite the radio silence for the last fortnight, the door opens quickly to reveal a worried Sungchan with a fresh and fluffy towel in his hands as he urges you inside, hand clasping over yours to pull you away from the cold and into the warmth of his home.
He closes the door with his free hand and his eyes instantly fall onto your body to inspect the damage caused by the storm, the dirt and the finals. You can’t help but feel heat under his gaze, your limbs already growing hot after being in his presence for two seconds. It’s your body's natural response to him since the day you met.
“Why didn’t you call me after you finished your exam?” are his first words to you as his hands take your bag and your raincoat off of your arms, both items falling on the floor around your ankles. “I would’ve picked you up.”
The way he says it almost makes you want to apologize for not doing it, but, in all honesty, you don’t quite believe he would’ve picked you up. Two weeks of not talking is a considerable amount of time, after all. So you bite your tongue and reply with the second thing that comes on your head instead.
“Didn’t even think about it. The rain started after I took the bus,” you say, feeling him wrap you in the towel he brought, hands pressing on your arms to make it absorb the rainwater covering you.
He stays silent as he dries you up, expertly and swiftly moving the towel over the areas of your body that were most affected by the downpour, his furrowed eyebrows showing his concentration. You have to actively stop yourself from reaching up to smooth them over, your hands itching to touch him. But in just fifteen seconds your upper half is dried and he squats down to inspect your legs.
He stops with his right hand on your left calf, looking up at you once he sees the mud covering your jeans.
“Shit, you’re a mess,” he sighs, a small chuckle coming out of his throat, too. “You’re gonna have to take a shower.”
“Oh,” you say, mind still understanding his request while your eyes focus on his. After a beat, you realize that you feel kind of insecure of showering in his place when you don’t know where you both stand on your relationship, so you shake your head. “I can go home to shower and come back later, if it’s okay with you.”
He shakes his head back at you. “No, it’s not. That’d be dumb,” he says, standing up in his full height and making you change your gaze from looking down to looking up at him. You feel a pang in your chest at the rejection, thinking he’s saying it would be stupid to come back to him after, but he smooths one hand over your shoulder and clarifies. “Why would you do that when there’s a perfectly good bathroom here you can use?”
You blink at him, your head again very slow in keeping up with his words. Maybe it’s because it’s been a rough day in a rough week in a rough month in a rough trimester. Maybe it’s because your last brain cell was burned while taking your international law exam. Maybe it’s being close with him again after some time, seeing his deep brown eyes, smelling his cologne and standing in his apartment that makes you so dull. Maybe it’s every one of those reasons. At this moment, you think you’re more pathetic than ever.
And you’re pretty sure Sungchan thinks you are, too, because his features crease again as he looks at you, taking a step back and tugging on your hand to come with him. “Come on. I’ll put your clothes in the washer while you shower.”
You quickly step on the heels of your shoes to take them off and follow him down the hallway to the small bathroom by the end of it. Sungchan fetches you a sealed bar of soap from the cabinet under the sink and a new fluffy towel from his dresser. Then, he waits outside of the bathroom for you to strip off your clothes and hand him every piece – hoodie, shirt, pants, undergarments and socks – through the half open door. He smiles at you for only a second before turning on his heels to take the clothes to the washer, saying you can take your time.
You leave the door leaning on its threshold, not quite closed, because, first of all, Sungchan has seen you naked multiple times and there’s no reason to be shy now, and second of all, you half expect him to come join you. So, you step in the shower, the white tiles cold against your toes as you turn the tap to burning hot just how you like it.
It’s relaxing having the heated water hitting your naked skin after being out in the cold with wet clothes for minutes that felt like years. You indulge yourself in it, sighing and letting your limbs loose, facing down and resting the top of your head against the tiles under the head of the shower, moving your body to fully stand under the water to feel it hit your shoulders as your mind travels back to Sungchan. It’s hard to over analyze his every move, touch and word when he’s just a few steps from you. But you’re an expert on doing that in every possible scenario by now. So, you recall every second of your five-minute interaction with him since you stepped inside his place, trying to look for signs of anything. You try to discover if he’s bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you can’t come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.
You try to discover if he’s bothered by your presence or if he looked happy to see you, if he helped you out because of his affection or just general kindness, if he was worried because he cares about you in a special way or just because he cares. Still, you can’t come up with answers to your doubts because he was always pretty hard to read anyway.
Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. Although you’ve seen him being comfortable and goofy around friends, he often keeps to himself and can even be described as a shy person most of the days. Even though his playful side comes up occasionally when he’s with you, most of the time you are met with silence that makes you conjecture a million theories that are never proven.
Plus, you’re achingly jumbled today and the truth is you always feel foolish around him. Like your strong attraction to him makes you dim-witted, tongue-tied and incoherent. Just like the first time you ever saw him.
The first time you ever saw him was in your freshman year in the second semester at college, in your Ethics class. He’s a STEM major, which obviously meant he was taking it for an extra credit, but you didn’t know that yet when you walked into the east building expecting to see a class filled with law students and came across the tall and hot math nerd.
One moment, you are hurriedly walking up the steps to your seat as the lecture hall fills with scholars and your professor takes his place in front of the board. In the next one, you’re bumping into a desk and sending a collection of papers and one very pricey scientific calculator to fall on the ground with loud bangs and blasts. You’re desperate as you squat down and rest your books on the following step to search for the batteries and the hood of the calculator that flew around during your mishap. And as your hand finds the last battery missing, another hand clasps over it to retrieve the item and you glance up to meet Sungchan’s eyes. You both stand up at the same time, in which you notice how tall he is, your senses taking in his soft hair, strong grip and big eyes surrounded by his glasses’ frame. And then you flinch, taking your hand back from his and muttering a small hushed apology before walking the last steps to your desk and avoiding eye contact with him for the rest of the lesson.
When class is dismissed, despite feeling extremely embarrassed, you gather up your courage and walk down to his desk to apologize profusely, saying how deeply bad you’re feeling and asking if his calculator is still working or if you have to work out a plan to pay for a new one for him.
“Don’t worry. It’s working fine,” he says, the sound of his voice sending a crazy shiver up your spine you never felt before. The first one of many to come. “But if you’re feeling deeply bad about it, you can take me out for dinner.”
You blink at him. The first one of many dim-witted moments to come in his presence. And he chuckles, fingers brushing over your elbow as he steps back from his desk and maneuvers you fully in front of him. You feel your organs internally jolting, like you’ve been struck by an electric shock or like you were numb and dead until now and have suddenly been relieved by a crazy scientist. And it’s all because of his small touch.
“I’m kidding,” he announces after you fail to reply, removing his hand from you, his eyes looking down and the tips of his ears tinting red as he says it. “We’re fine. There’s no need to apologize anymore.”
“Thank you for being so understanding,” you reply, finally getting out of your head and finding your voice again after being revived by his fingertips. “Really. Most people wouldn’t be this chill.”
He walks around you with one hand on the strap of his backpack and steps down two levels of the stairs, becoming almost eye-level with you when he raises an eyebrow up and says, “Guess I’m not like most people.”
And then he turns his back on you, finishing the final steps of the lecture hall and getting out as you stupidly blink at his back.
It’s ridiculous how much you become obsessed with him after that.
Even though you consider yourself smart enough to not develop a crush on your first year of college, you walk head first into that booby trap. Very quickly and happily, too. 
It takes you a few days after your first meeting to learn that he’s actually a sophomore majoring in biological engineering, which didn’t help at all, because your social sciences brain couldn’t understand a thing about STEM. You also learn that he’s originally from another state and that, yes, he is in your Ethics class for an extra credit. From observing him in your shared class, you figure out he actually keeps to himself and likes to doodle on his textbook while the professor is talking. From a couple of shared acquaintances, you’re told that he’s shy, has never been seen with a partner before and doesn’t really attend parties. He’s a quiet one, they say. So much so that when you tell the person that he jokingly asked you out when you bumped into him, they don’t quite believe you.
As the weeks go by with no new interaction between you two except for the few stolen glances you throw his way during lessons, you start to think you imagined the whole thing. The electric buzz in your inner system when he touched you, the blush on his cheeks and ears, the way his eyes scanned you up and down and how his hand lingered a little too long on your arm… It could all just be a fleeting moment. Or only a natural response of your body from seeing and being close to such an attractive person. It certainly couldn’t mean anything special. You convince yourself that it meant nothing.
And then, the next day, you see him at a café close to campus. He’s there with a few close friends, chatting up and joking with each other, and you’re intrigued by how his smiles are easier to appear and how loud he can laugh in a candid and carefree moment. Also, you feel that same attraction again. That gut-punching-needing-to-be-closer magnetic pull between you two. It makes your nerves stand on end, goosebumps raise all over your body and your focus zero on him. It makes your skin prickle, like every atom of your body is buzzing in excitement and craving to be touched by him. And by the way Sungchan’s breath catches when his eyes meet yours and his posture changes, secretly eyeing you up and down every chance he gets, you can tell he feels it, too.
But it takes so long for you to be close to him. Being from strikingly different majors, you are almost never in the same parts of campus. Apart from the class you two met in and the programming class you took in your sophomore year – which you swore to your friends it was just because you were curious about it and not because of the student body attending to it – you mostly live different lives and stand out of each other's ways.
However, slowly and surely, your life becomes intertwined with his, like someone is playing puzzles with the pieces of you both. First, you become a TA to your environmental law Professor and end up tutoring one-on-one with his cousin Sungho. One day, while you are reviewing the paper he wrote for his class, Sungho tells you how Sungchan said “she’s super hot” when he told him you were his TA. You have to hide your smile behind the paper sheets in your hands to not give away that you’re attracted to him and scold Sungho for distracting you. That’s the first time you have actual evidence of Sungchan’s interest in you and it makes you smile for days.
Then, one of your friends starts hooking up with one of his friends and soon enough you are hanging out together in the same group. It helps you discover new things about him to obsess about. Like how he has the cutest mole on the corner of his upper lip you just need to drop a kiss on. And how his closest friends often call him Jinsu and how he always smiles when he hears it. You learn he’s a gym rat. And that he’s always down to help his peers whenever they have a problem and need a hand. It’s so freaking adorable.
And then, you both join in an extracurricular philosophy workshop you could’ve sworn you heard him ask Haneul, your friend, when was the final date of submission to in one of your hangouts. All these new opportunities to meet him frequently allow you to actually talk to him a few times, and soon enough you're sharing stories about your lives, joking and flirting with each other.
And that’s how, finally, in your junior year of college, your and Sungchan’s paths are unmistakably crossed and you become actual friends. So, when you surprisingly see him at a frat party, it’s natural for you to greet him while he plays Super Mario Bros with his friend Sohee. You strike a conversation about how you thought he didn’t like parties and Sungchan confirms it’s true and tells you how Sohee is a member of the fraternity and actually dragged him there. You laugh at his antics and then he jokes about something else so you smile again.
You want to sit next to him to keep your conversation going, but there’s a bunch of people littered across the room in various stages of drunkenness and practically no space left on the couch he’s on. Sungchan notices your eyes searching for a spot and makes as much room as he can, pulling you to sit on the arm of the sofa next to him. Then, he slings one arm around your body, keeping you steady and close to him, and rests his hand on your lap, his other hand joining from your opposite side with the video game controller. While he fixes his grip on the controller to keep playing, his knuckles graze your jeans clad thighs and you realize that you’re trapped around his arms for the time being.
It makes you instantly go rigid, his sudden closeness already making you dizzy and short of breath. And then, like it’s an afterthought of his, Sungchan leans on your side and looks up at you, his eyes carefully watching your reaction as he asks, “Is this okay?”
You purse your lips together and nod even though the thumping of your heart is so loud in your ears you’re not sure you heard him correctly. “Yeah.”
He nods back at you, a close-lipped smile appearing on his lips as he focuses back on the game playing on the TV. You have to concentrate on keeping your breaths steady as the side of his face brushes your arms, his hair soft and his stubble rough on your skin. You have to bite on your lower lip to keep yourself from sighing when his hands press on your thighs or on your lower stomach, controller lying in your lap as he waits for the game to load. Only after a while you feel comfortable enough to sit back against the cushions and let your hand wander to his shoulders, trembling fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt because your hormones are in a frenzy inside of you.
“You having fun?” He asks after they finish off a match on the game, hot breath falling over your arm and sending an electrical current on your body.
“Yeah. Until now, at least,” you reply, dangling your feet under you to give you something to focus on that it’s not him.
“Wanna have more fun?” He asks, and there’s an unmistakable glint in his eye that sends butterflies flying around in your stomach.
“Like what?” You reply, purposely leaning into the obvious sinful intentions laced in his words.
“We can get out of here,” he says then, fingers twitching the hem of your shirt and brushing on your skin, eyes scanning over your features and looking for any signs that you’re uncomfortable by his actions or words. He licks his lips when he notices how your eyes drop to his mouth and moves his hand to play with a strand of your hair before finishing off his proposition. “Have a drink somewhere more private… If you want.”
You know that the drink is an excuse for something else and that somewhere more private is actually his house. But you’ve been wanting this for so long that you have no desire to play it cool or pretend you don’t want this.
“Sure,” is all you reply, accepting whatever fate has in store for you now.
When Sungchan gets up from the couch and says goodbyes to his friends, he grabs your hand for you two to leave together, checking your eyes one last time to be sure you’re willing to do this just as much as him. You smile at him and that seems to be enough to placate his worries, because he smiles back and pushes you to follow through. You know you’ll kiss him as you make your way down the stairs of the frat house, one hand still gripping Sungchan’s and the other texting your friends to let them know you’re leaving with him. You know you’ll at least make out when he shields your side, protecting you from any unsteady drunk that may trip over you as you try to reach the door out of the house. And you’re pretty sure you’ll fuck as you both wait on the sidewalk for the Uber he asked for, his hand intertwined with yours as he hums along with the music from the party.
Still, you pretend like you’re naïve and clueless just for the mystery still hanging in the air.
Once the car pulls up on the curb, Sungchan leads you inside and enters after. He still holds your hand, resting it against his thigh as you take the left seat of the car and he sits back on the right one. The middle seat between you both is vacant and none of you make a move to sit closer to one another. You can cut the tension with a knife as soon as the car moves and the music from the party fades away. Slowly, he starts to play with your hand, rubbing and grabbing at your knuckles and you hold your breath. A moment later, your palm is up on his lap as he spreads your fingers open, his nails softly grazing the length of each and every one of them. He chuckles when the action makes you shiver and you hide your face with your free hand from embarrassment, turning away to look out the window. But then he changes places, splaying his fingers so you can rub your nails on the length of them now, and the same shudder that ran through you takes over Sungchan’s body, a cute blush appearing on his cheeks. Sungchan is a man of few actions and even lesser words. But in that moment, using just the palm of your hands, he chose to become vulnerable to you. His attitude says this is real and I feel it too. And you can’t be more grateful for him finally dropping the mysterious act and becoming transparent for once. At that, you smile and he intertwines his fingers with yours, clutching your hand fully.
You both stop watching your hands to finally look at one another. He sighs contentedly under your gaze and his free hand, the one that isn’t already attached to yours, finds its way on your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. His eyes slip to your lips and back to your eyes, searching for something. And only after you nod at him, he dives in, capturing your mouth on his and successfully filling the space in between your seats, leaning his body on yours.
You’ve never been kissed like this before, with so much energy you feel renewed. But you try not to think too much about it and instead feel it as you reciprocate the kiss, your lips and hands restless to show him just how much you felt for him for the past two years.
Sungchan keeps kissing you as the car stops its journey and the driver has to announce you arrived. He keeps kissing you while you walk up the steps of his building to find his apartment. He keeps kissing you whilst he punches the code on his door to get it open. He is still kissing you as you take off your shoes and coats by the hall and he’s leading you inside, whispering a breathless “this is my place” that drives you both into a fit of giggles. He kisses you inside his room, on his bed, as he takes off your clothes. He kisses you even when he puts on the condom and you jerk him off before he slides inside you. He keeps kissing you whilst you adjust to his size and ask him to move faster. When he’s fucking you, he kisses every part of you his lips can reach – your forehead, your cheek, the tip of your nose, your eyebrows, your neck, your ears, your shoulders, your clavicle and your boobs. You think his mouth never leaves your body, never fully at least, when he kisses your lips again whilst you tell him you’re so close. And as you cum, walls spasming and squeezing his cock to milk him dry from his own orgasm, he kisses you one more time.
After, when you’re lying in bed spent and he spoons you, he tells you how much he wanted to do this the first time you met. How you short-circuited his system and made him ask you out on that first moment and how serious he actually was about that. How he didn’t know what to do with himself when you didn’t reply. You chuckle at his confession and let the night wash away his words as you’re lulled to sleep by his warm skin on yours and his groggy soft voice. Before the slumber overtakes you, you swallow the words of your own confession that are burning on your tongue, thinking you’ll have the time to tell him later.
And that’s how you end up here, in a seven-month situationship with him, never quite speaking those words.
By now, it’s nuts the kind of power Sungchan holds over you. And you’re not sure he even knows it. Your relationship – if it even can be called that – is, for the most part, purely skin-on-skin raw sexual desire. Every time you are near Sungchan, you are energetic, your hormones kicking into high gear. For some time, you thought that after a few times sleeping together, you’d be able to get over it and get him out of your system. You hoped that your attraction to him would pass or that it would at least dim. That hooking up would get so common it’d turn boring, that you wouldn’t get the jitters around him anymore or that you’d run out of things to experience and new kinks to try out.
But every time you do it – every time, without fail – you finish it wanting more. You keep coming back to his arms and he keeps letting you in. The chemistry is still off the charts.
You love the way his calloused hands touch you and his soft lips kiss you. You’re crazy about how he has memorized all of your body parts and all of your ticks to make you scream with pleasure in bed. You’re obsessed with how he’s had your skin marked up with his fingers, teeth and scent. You’re captivated by his filthy words on your ear and his gentle hard thrusts against your hips. You’re fixated by how his dick fits perfectly inside you and how he knows how to make you cum in minutes. And you’re haunted by the fact that all of that combined might mean that you are in love with him.
Because sometimes, when you’re not fucking or going about all the stops that would lead you to fuck, you feel genuine deep attachment with him.
In a rare moment he laughs when you tell him how you argued with your crazy conservative forensics’ Professor in front of the Dean in a criminology symposium because he dared to assume asexual women are frigid. Or he lets you lay your head on his chest as he tells you how he and his roommate Shotaro became friends. Or he places a piece of your hair over your ear while you eat dinner together at the pizza place near your place. Or you belt out early 2000’s music together on his beat-up Kia Sephia 1993 while you drive around town. Or you tell him about wanting to change your major to Literature, that you never planned to take Law in the first place, and he encourages you to do what you really want. Or you both stay up late sharing your fears and uncertainties about life after college. Or he pulls you into his arms, holding you closer and tightly against him because your body drifted away from him while sleeping. Or he tells you how he loves your caresses as you pet his hair to lull him back to sleep while the rising sun infiltrates through his room curtains. Or he says he remembered you during the day because he saw your favorite flower blossoming near the building to his calculus class. Or he not so casually asks who was the guy you were talking too close with the last time he saw you on campus, jealousy shining in his eyes. Or he reads the latest philosophy book you recommended and gives you an in-depth review of all the points he found important. Or he buys you a cupcake when you meet up a day after your birthday and acts nonchalant, tips of his ear becoming red, as you ask him what it is for. Or he sends you a Spotify playlist of an artist he thinks you’d really like the sound. Or he asks how your grandmother is doing a few days after you came back from a quick trip home because she was sick.
In those rare moments, you hold yourself together to not bawl your eyes out because of his kind gestures. It’s hard not feeling sentimental being treated with the minimal tenderness when you grew up in a house with strict rules and no space for feelings. Of course, there were the frequent occasions where your parents would scream their lungs out at each other saying the nastiest stuff you ever heard, but, other than that, feelings were bottled up and could only come out in screeches if you were an adult. Your parents turned their maximum effort to make sure food was on the table and you and your siblings were upstanding citizens, and as much as you’re grateful for that, sometimes you resent them for never truly making you feel seen and appreciated.
Maybe that’s the reason why when Sungchan shows you care and desire, you mistake it for love. Because, in those sacred moments in the dead of the night when he shares a part of him with you, something he never told or showed before, you want to crawl out of your skin and into his to become a part of him. That’s when you think – you feel – like you love him. And you feel like maybe he loves you, too.
The fact that he speaks in a gentle and low tone as opposed to the wails you used to listen to as a child is just an added bonus.
After fifteen minutes, you finally close the water tap and the stream of your daydream about Sungchan to step out of the shower. As you dab your body up with a towel, you find out Sungchan has left a change of his clothes for you on the sink while your mind was far away. You quickly dry yourself off and put on the clothes, a pair of his boxers and a set of gray sweatpants and sweatshirt that retains the heat from the hot water on your body and makes you feel like a human again and not a dirty wet popsicle. Then you wipe a hand on the mirror over the sink to get rid of the steam on it and start brushing your hair back with your fingers to redo your ponytail. Once you’re satisfied, you put the towel up to dry and leave the bathroom, walking the small path to Sungchan’s room. You can’t help but notice that Shotaro’s room, that is right beside Sungchan’s, has its door open and lights out, with no signs of Shotaro inside, which means you and Sungchan have the house alone to yourselves. A wicked smile makes its way to your face as you think of all the noise you can make without a care in the world. But you soon tamper your wild thoughts and breath in before knocking on Sungchan’s closed door, only opening it after you hear his permission to come inside.
His bedroom is small and you’ve been in here so many times you already know it by heart. A twin bed by the window, some basic white curtains, a nightstand, a small desk with a chair by the foot of the bed, a dresser just in front of it and that’s it. It’s a tiny room in a tiny apartment, not much different than yours, and you suppose there’s not much else a college student can afford in a building off-campus.
When you come inside, Sungchan is sitting on his chair, laptop open as he types away. And as you close the door again, he turns on his seat to welcome you with a smile on his face.
“Hey,” he says, eyeing you up and down. “Did the clothes fit okay?”
You look down at the attire that so clearly belongs to him but fits you well enough because even though he’s taller than you, you’re more full-figured than him. “Yeah. Thanks for lending me them. And for letting me shower.”
“No problem. I already turned on the dryer for your clothes, they should be done in a minute. I also wiped down your raincoat, sneakers and your bag. Shoes are still in the hall. Raincoat and backpack are right there,” he tells you, pointing at a spot behind you where your belongings are gathered, right near his dresser.
Your eyes follow his direction to recognize where your things are and then you look back to him, feeling like a deer caught in headlights as you lean back on the wall with hands bound behind your back. Even though you wanted to meet him, you feel misplaced now that you’re here. Like the time apart has made you become strangers to one another. You don’t know what to expect anymore. Sungchan has been nothing but welcoming until now, but you keep fearfully anticipating his every move and word, waiting to be rejected, sure that your presence is annoying him and he’ll ask you to leave at any minute.
Contrarily to all of your fears, Sungchan puts you out of your misery as he extends a hand and beckons you to come closer. When you step in his general direction, he takes your hand in his and draws you in so you’re standing in between his legs. With him still seated in his chair, you’re taller than him, and you like the leverage of looking down on him that it gives you. But instead of meeting his eyes with confidence, you focus your gaze on a spot behind his head as you feel his hands wrapping around your waist and you place your own on his shoulders.
It's only when Sungchan moves one hand to your face and tips your chin back that you really look at him. He’s wearing a pair of gray sweatpants that match yours and a white t-shirt that hugs his form and shows his biceps, his fringe styled in a way that leaves a heart-shaped spot on his forehead that you want to drop a kiss on. His reading glasses frame his eyes, the lenses lightly scratched. It’s completely unfair how absolutely ravishing he looks in simple clothing and so little styling.
“Hi there,” he whispers when your eyes stop wandering over his features and finally focus on his face, the smile on his lips making you feel warm all over.
“Hey,” you reply, fingers picking at the fabric of his shirt over his chest for lack of something better to do. “Thank you for everything. You’re the best.”
“Of course, princess,” he says, hand moving to the nape of your neck to pull your face closer. He pecks your lips two times before pulling back. You instantly melt against him, containing the urge to follow his mouth with yours. “I wouldn’t be okay with you standing in those wet cold clothes. Plus, you look cute wearing mine, too.”
You smile shyly at him, your cheeks burning because of the compliment and he nuzzles his nose against yours, muttering a “So damn cute,” before pressing his lips on yours again.
You sigh against him, mouth parting to immediately receive his tongue. It’s slow and sweet, you both getting acquainted with each other again, one of his hands around your waist to press you against his front, and the other one rubbing circles on your nape. Your own hands wrap around his neck and pull at the strands of his hair, earning a soft groan from him. He tastes like mint toothpaste and heaven, and you’re embarrassed by how much you missed this. His closeness, his smell, his touch, his kiss. All of it. All of him. You want him all the time.
“Finals week has been treating you badly, doll?” He asks when you both pull back for air and you groan at his question, hanging your head low and resting your forehead on his right shoulder. He chuckles at you.
“Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” you whimper, the press of his lips on your neck making your voice airy.
He nods and softly pushes your head back so he can look at you again. “Fine, let’s not talk about it. But I still have an essay due tomorrow that I’m trying to finish today, so I don’t think I’ll be able to spend much time with you right now.”
“Oh, okay,” you reply. “You want me to go?”
He shakes his head and looks at you pointedly, muzzling another one of your attempts to flee. “Please stay. I’ll order some food if you’re hungry and you can eat while I work.”
You scrunch your nose at the offer with a hand over your stomach. “I actually feel nauseous after that exam.”
He laughs at you and starts humming, making the most adorable thinking face while he tries to come up with a plan that doesn’t involve you leaving.
“I can charge my phone and watch TikTok videos on your bed while you work? If the sound doesn’t bother you. I’ll make sure the volume is really low.” You suggest. “And after, I don’t know…” You trail off, feeling warm all over again because you actually know exactly what comes after. What comes after is you getting impaled by his dick and writhing in pleasure. And you hope that what comes after is you both finally confessing your feelings for each other, too. But that’s just a hope.
And also, it’s not even the time to think about that, so you shake your head to scare those thoughts away and give him another option, “I can go back home after a while. I actually need to sleep early because I have another exam in the third period tomorrow.”
“Okay, sounds like a plan,” he replies, nodding his head and pulling you in for another long and sweet kiss.
That is interrupted by the familiar pinging sound of a message coming through his laptop iMessage app and your eyes instinctively follow it to check what it is. But Sungchan is quicker than you, scrambling up and turning his torso to reach for the mouse and close the notification before you have the chance to see it. It’s a small moment that doesn’t quite alarm you because you know Sungchan is a private person and there’s no way he’d let you look through his texts. Still, as he turns back to drop a last kiss on your lips and you walk away to search for your phone in your bag, something about it nags at the back of your head.
With your phone and charger in hand and the TikTok app open, you make yourself comfortable on his bed. As your brain forgets all about international laws and politics and gets a serotonin boost from puppies and kittens’ videos, Sungchan pulls your feet from the bed to lay them on his lap as he remains seated on his chair. When he’s clicking away on the mouse or scrolling through his screen to read something, he rests his free hand on your ankles and starts massaging the soles of your feet. The domesticity of it all tugs on your heart and you can’t help but smile as you watch his back. Soon enough, the warmth of his room, his kneading on your feet and the comfy feeling get to you and you start to feel sleepy.
So, you connect your charger plug on the outlet behind Sungchan’s bedside table and hook it up on your phone, letting the device rest on the table as you promise Sungchan you’re just going to close your eyes for a few minutes. Then, you end up falling asleep in just a few seconds.
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You feel the warmth first. A source of heat enveloping you in a strong and sturdy body. Then, you feel the gentleness, the soft touch on your hair, the slide of a thumb under your ear that pulls you from your slumber and into the arms of reality.
As you blink your eyes open, you’re met with Sungchan’s deep light brown eyes, illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table. The atmosphere is comfortable. You’re warm and cozy laying on Sungchan’s twin bed with his arms surrounding you. The rain is still falling outside, although now it has turned into a light drizzle. There’s flimsy wind coming in through the small opening of the window that cools the air and prevents everything from becoming too hot. But you like the heat and think you could be easily lured back to sleep because of it.
“Hi there,” Sungchan mutters before you have the chance to close your eyes again, his head resting on the same pillow as yours.
“Hi, Jinsu” you say groggily, rubbing a hand over your sleepy face. You notice how he smiles and his eyes glint at your use of his favorite nickname, and an emotion stirs deep inside you for seeing him so happy with something so simple. 
You get awkward for a moment thinking you must have mucus on your eyes and a bloated face right now, but Sungchan just keeps smiling at you and it’s enough to take your mind away from the embarrassment. His thumb rubs soothing circles on the nape of your neck as you adjust yourself over the sheets. “Sorry for waking you up. I was just getting comfortable to sleep,” he says. 
“S’okay.” You smile back at him, reaching over to caress his hair, your fingers threading through its strands. “For how long did I nap?”
“Two hours or so,” he says, sliding his hand down to your waist. “You snored, too.”
You give him a scoff, followed by a yawn that starts small and turns big. It makes you stretch your whole body, extending all of your limbs from your arms to your toes, cracking your knuckles and everything, and Sungchan gives you space to do so. When you’re finished, you turn on your back, getting comfortable again and closing your eyes briefly with a quiet hum.
“I should probably go, then,” you say with eyes still closed. It was about 7:30 p.m. when you settled in his bed, which means now it’s close to ten. If you want a quality sleep and to wake up on time tomorrow, you actually should get going. But Sungchan’s bed feels too comfy right now. Being in his arms is not bad either. 
You don’t see, but you can feel him scooting over to you, sheets rustling as he gets closer, his nose nuzzling yours and his hand fiddling with the bottom hem of your sweatshirt, your senses heightened by your drowsy mind and the lack of vision.
“You can stay a little while longer,” he replies with a playful tilt in his words, his fingers skimming over your belly button making you jump slightly, and you open your eyes to see the left side of his mouth popping up as he shamelessly presses his body on the side of yours. “I don’t mind.”
“Oh, you don’t?” you mumble, suddenly feeling the need to lower your voice with his lips so close to yours, eyes narrowing at his obvious naughty intentions. “That’s so nice of you.”
“Uh-huh, that’s me,” he finally leans in to give you a peck on the lips. “I’m sooo nice,” it’s the last thing he says before kissing you fully.
This kiss is heavy and intimate. His hand around your neck keeps you in place as he savors you, tongue entering your mouth. He strokes the back of your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the inside of your cheeks and your own tongue, groaning at whatever he finds there. His other hand grazes the skin of your waist tenderly in a way that may have made you think he’d treat you delicately if he wasn’t kissing you with so much fervor and energy. He takes whatever he wants from you until you pull away, already out of breath.
“I thought you were going to sleep,” you tease, lips ghosting over his, and he smirks at you.
He moves his lips to your ear and whispers, “Yeah, but I’m all woken up now,” as his hand moves up and down your stomach, faintly caressing your skin in a way that makes your insides burn. He presses his pelvis on the side of your thigh and you feel his dick hardening while still being constrained inside his pants. “Can’t you feel it?”
You reply a faint yeah before he’s all over you again, mouth desperate on yours as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth and bites, hands gripping your waist and body crowding you against the sheets. He’s consuming you whole and he wants more. And you give it to him. All of you. Honestly, at this point you’d give him whatever he asked.
“You don’t have exams tomorrow?” You ask in between kisses, breathless and shaky, the still sane part of your mind trying to estimate how much time you have together and what you’d be able to do with it.
Sungchan shakes his head slightly and kisses the corner of your mouth, putting a strand of your hair that’s fallen free from your ponytail behind your ear. “I’m finished with exams,” he whispers and kisses your cheek, then moves his lips to your earlobe, kissing there, too. “I have all the time in the world for you right now, princess.”
You want to kiss him again, but his head moves up, his nose sinking into your hair and deeply inhaling before pressing his lips on your hairline. “I missed the smell of your shampoo so much,” he says, eyes focusing back on your face as he slides his lips to your temple.
You sigh against him, his words making your heart flutter. Still, you can’t help but tease him when his eyes meet yours again. “Well, if you contacted me earlier, you wouldn’t have missed it,” you say, pouting at him, your hand bawling at his shirt as you finally show how upset the two weeks of radio silence made you feel.
Sungchan laughs at you and cradles his hand on the side of your face, his thumb caressing over your cheekbone as he holds you close. “Oh, did you get mad I didn’t text you, princess?” He mutters, his eyes glinting while yours are sad. “You should’ve texted me, then.”
You keep pouting, making a dissatisfied noise with his reply. Then, you cast your eyes down to the collar of his shirt as you say, “I wanted you to talk to me first.”
Sungchan chuckles and closes his palm on your chin, tilting your head up so you have nowhere to look but into his eyes. “But you ended up calling me up either way, didn’t you?” He teases in a low gruff voice with dark eyes. His fingers press against the sides of your cheeks to pucker your lips for him and he drops four consecutives pecks on your mouth that have you sighing. “Sounded so cute on the phone, too, saying you needed to see me,” he finishes.
The mockery of his words falls hard on you, making you feel ashamed as he reminisces your exact words, directly pointing out the truth: that you were the one who pursued him and not the other way around. You whimper in discontent, your face contorting as you try to get away from his grip, but his hold on your chin tightens when you move. So you press your nails on his shoulders over his shirt, hoping the fabric gives away and your force is enough to draw blood, and look at him with hard eyes and anger on your face. “Sungchan, I don’t like-”
“Why don’t you just tell me you missed me, huh?” He asks, interrupting you and making you roll your eyes at him, a snappy reply on your tongue. “Because I missed you, princess. I really did.”
And just like that the anger fizzles out and the irritable words are gone from your brain. His confession makes you melt back against him, breath hitching and eyes going wide. You notice he’s still smirking, probably because he knows he got you right where he wanted. Teasing you nonstop for half a minute and then confessing he missed you just so he can get a reaction out of you. And you give it to him, falling on the trap just like he wanted. You always do.
“Did you really?” You ask, big eyes focusing on his lips and neck pushing forward, needing to hear his confirmation. If you were a pet, your ears would be up and alert, patiently waiting for your owner to assert his authority over you.
“I did,” he says, nodding his head and smoothing his hands over your features now, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. “And did you miss me, princess?”
You nod before he’s even finished speaking. Knowing he missed you just how much you missed him fills you with urgency and you’re sure you have eager and wanton eyes as you grip on the back of his head and pull his face closer, focusing your gaze back on his as you sheepishly confess back, “I missed you, Jinsu.”
Sungchan’s smile slowly spreads across his lips as he hears and sees your words coming out of your lips. He pats on the top of your head briefly, like you really are his pet, and coos at you. “There you go, pretty girl.”
And then he’s pulling you in for a kiss again, his mouth devouring you whole as he creeps one hand under your head to support it and slides his other one to grasp at your hip.
He shifts on the bed, leaning over you with a leg in between yours, his grip tightening as your tongues meet. In no time you’re both breathing heavily, lips red, swollen and covered in spit as your hands weave through his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer. He moves his lips down to your neck, sucking and biting everywhere, and drives his hands up your stomach under your shirt, feeling the skin just under your boobs before his fingers enclose over one of them.
You sigh and crane your neck to the side as he keeps peppering kisses on your collar, his thumb now pressing against your nipple as it hardens over his ministrations, another moan flying free from your mouth. You try to match his pace, descending one hand to his stomach to pull up his t-shirt, your fingers grazing his abs.
He pulls away then, kneeling on the bed to remove his shirt and throw it on some corner of his room. You spend approximately two seconds kissing his lower stomach before he’s pulling your sweatshirt – his sweatshirt – over your head, too, and pouncing on you a minute later, his other knee also coming in between your legs as he latches his mouth around one boob, laying you back down.
“Fuck, Sungchan,” you groan, your hands clamping on his hair again because he’s sucking on your nipple at just the perfect angle whilst his thigh presses on your crotch with just the ideal amount of friction to make you dizzy. You’re sure you're wet already and it’s not even been over ten minutes since you woke up.
“Missed these tits so much too, princess,” he says over your damp nipple, eyes focusing on yours and raising goosebumps all over you. It’s an incredibly lewd image. His glossy and pretty lips, coated on your saliva, telling you over your areola how much he missed your boobs. Yeah, you’ll probably be thinking about it for a long time, keeping this memory to your mind to use it specifically when you masturbate in the near future. Or you’ll be putting a video representation of it as the cause of your death on your grave when you’re buried. One of these two options, for sure.
He presses kisses all over the valley of your chest before sucking around the skin of your other boob. His tongue peeks out of his mouth to kitten lick at your nipple at the same time his blunt nails graze against the skin just under your belly button on your right side, and you fidget under him. It’s a weak spot he had memorized as soon as you started sleeping together and he tortures you with it every damn time you two fuck just to see you squirm.
“Desperate already?” He says as he rubs the same place over and over, his eyes watching your stomach contract with each caress.
“You’re such a douchebag,” you tell him.
“Why?” he kisses your nipple and focuses his eyes back on yours, stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “Am I not making you feel good?”
“You fucking know why,” you respond, moving your hand to his wrist to stop his abuse of your weak spot and sliding his hand down to cup the place in between your thighs over your clothes. “And this is where your hand has to be to make me feel good.”
Sungchan laughs at that, pressing his hand harder on you and sucking on your boob one more time. His eyes and lips are glistening as he says, “So bossy. You’re lucky I like it.”
And then his mouth is claiming yours again while he sits up and his hands make quick work of yanking down your sweatpants and underwear – once again, his clothes – and throwing them away from you, making you lay back and bend your legs. Once he’s done, you move down the bed, sitting to grasp your fingers over the drawstring of his sweatpants, trying to loosen it so he can get just as naked as you are, but he moves his hips out of your reach just before you can finish it.
“I want to feel you, too,” you whine as he hovers over you, one hand pushing on your shoulder to reposition you the way he wants it, your back stretching against the covers again.
He smiles and drops a small peck on the corner of your mouth before moving his body down the bed, hands spreading open your thighs and lips pressing kisses on your belly and going down, down, down.
“In a minute, doll,” he says over your right knee, his hands now moving to the inside of your thighs, so close to where you most want him. “Have to make you feel good first, just like you asked.”
His mouth moves up now, lips sucking and bruising your thighs, tongue lavishing over your soft skin, one hand crossed on your waist to hold your body down and another pinching the supple flesh of your butt and thigh, pushing and pulling as he pleases and extending your torture so much more. You love it just as much as you hate it. It’s amazing how much he knows your body, how much he remembers all of your ticks just to use them against you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s him. He makes you feel this way. Always has. Probably always will.
You are about to beg for something more, the first letter of a please making its way out of your now dry lips. And then he’s parting your folds and kissing up your crotch, becoming face to face with your glistening cunt. He buries his nose just on the outer part of it and breathes in deeply for a moment, quite literally inhaling your scent, and you think he just has to be mad. There’s no way in hell he’s a sane person.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans, his eyes meeting your wide ones when you press your elbows on the bedspread to support your upper body and watch what he’s doing. “Missed this sweet little pussy, too.” He slides his forefinger up your slit and rubs at your clit, making you shiver. “And she missed me, right, doll? Fucking dripping already. And all for me.”
“Holy shit, you’re crazy,” you moan, brushing his hair back as he keeps rubbing your clit, your hips wiggling with every complete circle he finishes, eyes never leaving his.
“And you love it,” he states and you can’t argue with that. And then he’s licking a wide strip up your pussy, his middle finger reaching down to find your entrance at the same time.
It would be ridiculous to get close to cumming just from that alone, but it’s been so long and you’ve been so pent up you already feel the characteristic churning deep in your stomach. Still, like always, Sungchan takes his time with you, massaging your entrance with his fingers, tongue finding that spot just under your clit that makes you see stars.
The seven months you’ve been doing this have been so full of sexual experiments that now he knows you prefer indirect stimulation rather than the direct on-the-nose approach. He knows you like to be eased into it, to slowly lose yourself to pleasure over getting quickly to your orgasm.
So, he keeps rubbing over your hole before putting his finger in, stroking your walls lazily as you moan softly, his tongue licking over the same spot over and over, oftentimes catching just the underside of your clit and making you swivel your hips trying to follow his lips.
“That’s it, doll. Doing so good for me,” he says as he speeds up his movements, joining another finger inside of your pussy and focusing on the image of your eyes closed, chest heaving and lips bitten. “Feels good?”
“Feels so good, Jinsu,” you reply, opening your glassy eyes to meet his, grabbing at his forearm that’s crossed over the front of your body. Sungchan is so focused on bringing you pleasure that the veins on his arms are popped up, so pretty you wish to run your tongue over each one. All of it just adds to the raw sexual tension lingering in the air.
“I love it when you call me that. You know just the way to drive me crazy, princess,” he groans, eyes never leaving yours as he moves his mouth to your clit again, now sucking harshly on it as his two fingers scissor you open.
Another thing you love about Sungchan is his dirty talk. You still don’t understand how he stays so silent and bashful most of the time and turns into another person in bed, becoming bold and forward. It’s not uncommon for him to be completely calm and collected when you’re in a friendly gather and then say the most obscene things while fucking you half an hour later, the shy persona thrown out the window. Sometimes he starts teasing you with texts, dirty looks or small touches even while you are out with friends. And the knowledge that he gets to be a completely different person just for you got you off one too many times.
You move your free hand to the back of his neck and push him more into your cunt. He gets the message and pulls your legs further apart, one hand going under your bum to support your lower half as you start bucking your hips into his face, sliding your elbows under you to arch your back while you’re searching for pleasure. He’s fucking you with his tongue so good right now you feel your sanity slipping away. The breeze coming from the window gives you goosebumps because of the contrast with the heat of your body, and your nipples stand hard as you whimper, hand pulling on the strands on Sungchan’s nape.
He groans against you, the vibration going straight to your heat and enveloping your whole body. When he pulls aways slightly, he keeps rubbing at your clit with his fingers.
“Gonna cum for me, princess?” He asks while resting his chin on your thigh and you moan, nodding desperately as you lift your head to look up into his glazed eyes. Words would fail you right now, so you do your best to convey your feelings through your actions, the hand on his forearm gripping him so hard he gives you his hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Do it, baby. You look so pretty when you cum.”
Over Sungchan’s eyes, you catch the way he’s rutting his hips on the bed, obviously looking for some kind of friction. The image shows that he’s just as turned on as you while eating you out and it makes you crazier. His shoulder blades and his back are tensed and you rest one foot over his shoulder just to feel the muscles moving under it, so fucking attractive. And when you focus back to his face, he’s panting, gaze never leaving yours as he dips his head again to suck hard on your clit, and that’s when you cum.
Your orgasm takes over your whole body and you shudder as Sungchan doesn’t stop, three of his fingers finding your hole again and pistoning inside you whilst you fall apart, his left cheek resting against your thigh and his eyes never leaving your pussy. You convulse around his hand and under his body, body going haywire while the intense pleasure overwhelms your senses.
You don’t know what to do with yourself. If you should keep your hands pressing against his nape and your hips lifting off in the air or if you should stop and take a breather. It all feels too fucking good it almost smothers you, but you don’t feel like stopping. Sungchan makes the decision for you then, choosing to keep his tongue out to taste you and his fingers curling on the spongy spot inside you that makes you writhe.
But suddenly it’s too much and you sit up to try to push him away with a hand on his forehead and clasp your other one over his wrist that is bended as he still guides his digits furiously inside you. Your legs try to close over his head, but he presses a hand firmly on the inside of your left thigh to keep them apart, his eyes determined as he meets yours again and pulls away slightly from your clit.
“Wait, I’m–“ You try to speak, but the word sensitive doesn’t come out as you feel your thighs trembling.
“I know, doll, I know,” he coos at you with pouty lips, still overstimulating you and enjoying every second of it, his eyes relaying fake empathy. “But you can give me one more, right?” You shake your head no with pleading eyes. Sungchan doesn’t budge. “Yes, you can. I believe in you. Gonna feel so good, too.”
You realize there’s no escaping this. You could use your safe word, but you don’t want to. Not when Sungchan is assertive and so good to you that it makes you feel obedient, keen to do everything in your power to make him feel good as well. So you bite your lip and nod your head at the same time you feel something change deep inside you. Your thighs that were trembling now spread open again and your pelvis starts chasing the feeling of his hand instead of avoiding it. Sungchan makes note of every new reaction, a sly smile appearing on his lips, and his eyes zero in on your cunt again. You relax your back enough to have your elbows hitting the sheets again, head falling back. Your hands weaken their grip on Sungchan’s wrist and head as he doubles down his efforts, fingers unwavering working to bring you to the edge. Soon enough, you feel the tightness in your belly, how it’s so steadfast you can’t help but let yourself fall into it. 
When you sob his name and curl your toes on his back, he looks at you with fierce eyes and one command on his moist lips.
“Cum,” he whispers, soft and yet harsh.
Just like that, the band snaps again and your walls spasm, gushing over Sungchan’s fingers. You arch your back off the bed, hips shooting up to feel everything he has left to give you, your mouth hanging open in a silent moan.
Like before, Sungchan keeps going, working you through it again and the lewd slippery sounds your cunt makes on his hand have you whimpering, nails scratching his wrist and eyes screwing shut to feel it all until it becomes too much again.
This time, when you weakly push at his forehead, Sungchan pulls back. His forearms support his body up as he hovers over you, lips trailing up your whole body as he kisses and sucks every part of you he can reach. “Such a good damn pussy,” he whispers just over the apex between your thighs. “And such a fucking pretty princess,” he says above your belly button. “Made you cum so good, right?” He questions after he sucks one of your nipples on his mouth again, and you paw at his head. “I could do this all night, doll,” he states before licking your other nipple. “And you’d let me, right?” He says before biting a mark on your clavicle.
When his lips come in contact with your own, you pant inside his mouth, trying to match his kisses even though you’re still gasping for air and with your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You just loop your arms around his neck and let him kiss you, tasting yourself on his tongue and feeling the heat creeping on your cheeks because of the vulgarity of it all.
He bites your bottom lip when you don’t give him an immediate answer and withdraws with it still between his teeth, digging harshly on your plush and hypersensitive skin until you hiss in pain. Only then he releases it. “Right?” He demands.
Your mind is still hazy and you’re still out of breath post two mind blowing orgasms, but you know better than to deny Sungchan when he’s feeling dominating. “Right,” you mutter in your most docile tone.
He smiles and swipes your cheek with his knuckles, thumb stroking on your abused lip before he presses another kiss on it. “Good girl.”
The praise goes straight to your system and you buzz in excitement, like you’re reawakening because of his words. Suddenly, you feel the urge to show him just how good of a girl you can be, how you can make him feel so good he might even forget his name.
You kiss him again and slip your hands down his body to feel his pecs, then his abs, until finally your fingers wrap around the imprint of his dick on his sweatpants. Sungchan hisses, head resting on the crook of your neck and shoulder, hips thrusting down on your hand.
“I need to suck you off,” you say, pushing him with a hand on his chest to make him sit up as you keep working his erection through his pants with your other hand.
Sungchan follows your directions, pulling your upper half up with him but keeping his arms tight around you, constricting you from moving any further. “If you do that right now, I’m gonna cum,” his whispers with eyes boring into yours, a silent plea in them.
You drop a peck on his lips and look at him with the same intensity as you reply. “Great. Then cum in my mouth.”
Just like that he weakens his hold of you and you’re able to slip from his arms to kneel on the floor, pulling on his waist for him to be in the position you want. Sungchan becomes compliant to your whims, just following your moves. Even though you never assigned each other fixed roles in bed, you are usually the one being pliable and manhandled, so it is a nice change to get him to obey your orders. He drops his legs over the side of the bed where you’re located and gives you enough space to shimmy your body in between them. This time he lets you pull at the string of his sweatpants to slacken it and lifts his hips when you pull down on the waistband of it, your hands removing his briefs, too. Both pieces of fabric pool around his ankles as you hold your head up and pull his face down for another kiss. He lets you kiss him while he gets rid of the clothes surrounding his calves, becoming hyper aware of your hands roaming over his body as his dick remains untouched.
Only when you pull back you get a good look at his cock, red, angry and leaking with precum. You lick your lips and keep rubbing your hands at Sungchan’s skin, and his eyes follow the way your right hand tweaks his nipples and your lips close around the space over his left knee.
“Please don’t tease right now, doll,” he says, voice whiny and eyes urgent as your hands start going down his stomach, your nails slightly scratching his skin. 
“Oh yeah? But I thought you liked teasing,” you say with a smirk before kissing his thigh. He opens his legs some more, opening up more space, and shuffles his pelvis closer to the side of the bed, leaning back on one arm. “Or are you that desperate already?”
He sneers at you repeating his earlier words back to him, but when you finally wrap your hand around the base of his dick, the smile is gone and he opens his mouth in a silent groan, brows furrowing together. Sungchan is so thick and heavy in your hand the tips of your fingers don’t touch your thumb as you grip him. Although his size never fails to impress you, you’re used to it by now, and you’re particularly fond of how much pleasure it brings you.
You just find it unfair how even his dick is pretty. Long and thick, mushroom tip with the same pink tinge of his lips and nipples, standing up with a slight curve that always digs so good on that spongy place inside of you. You move your hand up and down his shaft to smear his slick all over him. Your mouth waters at the sight and soon enough you’re pressing a kiss to his tip and watching him purr, thrusting his hips up to follow the feel of your lips when you move back.
“Stay still,” you command and he purses his lips together and nods. His forehead is already beaded with sweat and you love the image of it. You smile softly at him before you kitten-lick his tip, watching his mouth open to deliver quiets aahs and oohs while you tongue at his slit and the underside of his head.
After a while, you finally take him inside your mouth. His tip prods on your cheek as you suck his dick forcefully and that’s enough to make Sungchan groan, head lolling back. You back away again and he whines, lifting his face to look in your eyes again.
“I know, baby boy. So sensitive, right?” You blow air over his head and he fidgets, wiggling his hips slightly. God, he looks gorgeous surrendering himself for you like this. You’ll have to do this more in the near future.
You smile and run your tongue all around his head, teasing him one last time before enveloping your lips around him again, tongue stroking the underside of his cock. Sungchan grips a hand on your hair, threading the strands of your now lopsided and messy ponytail in between his fingers. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down for him, hand stroking the rest of his dick where you’re not able to cover with your mouth. He moans at you and you put another hand on his thigh for balance, breathing in deep through your nose and preparing to take him deeper. A second later you’re relaxing your throat as his dick invades that space, too, concentrating on keeping your breath regulated while he thrusts his hips up.
“Just like that, princess,” he whimpers under you.
You hold out for the longest you can before you feel your gag reflex kicking in and then you retreat with a gasp, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his dick, your eyes blurry from unshed tears as you make up for the loss of your mouth with your hand. Sungchan moves both of his hands to your cheeks, holding you tenderly as his thumbs press on your waterline to catch the tears clouding your vision.
When you blink, his face becomes clear to you again. His eyes are glassy and lust filled, his open mouth is panting and his chest, cheeks and neck are splotched. It fills you with pride that he’s gotten into such a fucked-up state just because of you.
“Feels good?” You ask in between deep breaths, trying to fill your lungs with air before preparing to take him in your mouth again whilst you keep pumping his cock.
“Yes. You’ve gotten so good at this, doll. Doing your best job yet,” he says and the pride swells in your chest, an instant ego boost cursing through your system.
Before you met Sungchan, you didn’t care enough about receiving or giving oral. You had a couple of boyfriends before, but you were still inexperienced and slightly disgusted of doing and experimenting certain things. And even though they had given you head before, and you’d tried your best to reciprocate, it was always a means to an end, never the primary goal of your sexual encounters.
But Sungchan was different. The first time he ate you out, he didn’t stop until you finished three times in sequence. It was so good it made you want to do the same for him. He made you feel seductive and bold enough to try new things. And he had the patience to teach you just the way he liked it. He didn’t become frustrated when your rhythm was shitty and you had to take long breaks to breathe before going back at it again. He didn’t push your head to take him all the way when you weren’t prepared. He waited for your affirmative response, leading and encouraging you, praising you whenever you achieved a new skill or did something different. He was good to you. And in turn, you became good for him.
“I like to pleasure you,” you say sincerely and trace your tongue on the vein that runs under his cock.
Sungchan jitters on the bed. “Yeah, and you trained so hard for that, right? Always sucking on my cock like you want to milk me dry, too.”
You nod, suckling and peppering small kisses all over his tip. “I do want to suck you dry.”
He smirks at that and moves his hand to the back of your neck again, tightening his grip. “Then why don’t you put it in your mouth again, baby?”
You smirk back at him and take your last big whiff of air before opening your lips to take him inside again. You hollow out your cheeks and bob your head up and down immediately, gripping at the base of his dick a hand and letting his moans, sighs and hums of approval guide your ministrations. You suction on the parts of his cock your mouth can reach and flatten your tongue on the underside of it, playing with his most sensitive parts while Sungchan keeps praising you.
“Shit. So good to me, doll. Keep doing that,” he grunts and you nod.
When his nails dig on your nape and his tip hits the back of your throat, you breathe through your nose and let him jerk his hips up until your forehead meets his stomach and your nose rubs on his pubic hair. You press both of your hands on his thighs and allow him to use your mouth until you can’t breathe and think straight anymore.
When you back out heaving, Sungchan moves his fingers to your face to catch the droll falling from your lips and clean the tears striking your cheeks. He waits for you to gather your surroundings again, still complimenting you and your work.
“Damn, you’re such a good girl,” he says tenderly, thumbs running over the apple of your cheeks. “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.”
The praise, of course, gets to you again. So, you tighten your grip on the root of his cock, starting to pump him faster, and take your other hand away from his thigh, pressing your fingers together and shaping your palm in a conch-like way to rub it on the tip of his dick, your thumb going under the head to rub at the sensitive spot located there. Sungchan moans loudly at that and you lean over to lick on his balls at the best of your ability giving the position you’re both in, not giving up even if the carpeted floor is digging on your skin.
Sungchan scrunches his eyes closed and slides one of his hands to the back of your neck and moves the other to grasp over yours on the head of his cock, pulling it away to rest them together at his thigh. “I’m close, princess.”
You catch his warning and wrap your lips on his cock again, instantly taking him in your throat as he desperately yanks his hips up in your mouth, fingers pressing on your nape and moans growing heavy and breathless. Your free hand fiddles with his balls, your nose presses on his lower stomach again and you swear you can feel him in your windpipe. And that’s when he releases, painting the inside of your mouth white with thick ropes of cum that only seize after a minute. When his body becomes loose and his hand on your neck turns weak, you pull away with a pop, watching his dick twitch and slap against his stomach.
You breathe deep and press your hands on the mattress on both of his sides to get up slowly, back and knees complaining about being in the same position for long minutes. Despite looking limp and still dazed, Sungchan pulls you to him so quickly you almost lose your balance. He peppers kisses on your belly and boobs while your hands press on his shoulders. And when you groan and move a hand to rub your left knee, he pulls your leg up to place your foot on the bed and hunches to close his lips on your skin, his tongue lavishing against the redness there. It tickles and you chuckle at him, but that doesn’t stop him from giving your right leg the same attention. He places your left foot on the ground and bends your right leg to press your toes on the mattress, repeating the same process. You smile fondly at him and caress his hair while he drops kisses on your right knee. And when he’s done, he slides your leg down so you’re now pressing your knee on the bed on the side of his thigh.
“You’re so good to me,” he whispers as he pulls you in for another kiss.
You press your body closer to his and feel the way his dick is hardening again, rubbing on your thigh, precum wetting it. But as you shuffle to straddle him completely, Sungchan stops you with a hand on your waist.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, voice hoarse from the blowjob. Sungchan doesn’t reply, scooting closer to his nightstand to open his drawer instead.
He pulls a foil packet from the already opened box of condoms and you look at him with confusion written all over your face. You guys have been doing it raw for three months now, ever since you told each other you were clean and not seeing anybody else and you started taking the pill. Sungchan loves finishing inside of you. So of course, you’re a little bit puzzled about why he’s choosing to wear a condom now, all of the sudden.
Well, maybe he’s afraid you met someone else during your time apart, but this possibility doesn’t even make sense. So you try to quash away his worries.
“I haven’t seen anyone else, Sungchan,” you tell him as he opens the foil packet and discards the trash on his night stand, right beside your cell phone.
“I know, doll,” he says back, eyes fleeting on yours for a moment before they focus on wrapping the condom around his dick. His voice sounds confident when he says it and it irks you how he’s so certain you won’t sleep with anyone else. “It’s just quicker to clean up this way.”
You tilt your head to the side and cross your arms. It doesn’t make sense. You can always shower after. That happened all the time. And it frequently led to you having round two in the bathroom, which you are not opposed to at all.
When Sungchan finishes securing the condom on his dick, he grabs your hand to drop a kiss on the back of it and pulls you closer. You budge just slightly and his eyes catch the way your stance is guarded and you’re not opening yourself up for him yet. He smiles, eyes crinkling with the motion. “Come on, princess. We have to be quick, right? Don’t you have to sleep early for that final on your third period tomorrow?”
His words are lovingly convincing and he’s technically right. But you still eye him suspiciously. Your finals are the last thing on your mind right now and you don’t believe Sungchan is worried about your sleep cycle after you just spent almost an hour pleasuring each other. It just doesn’t make sense, your mind screams at you.
You’re sure something is wrong, but when Sungchan starts kissing your clavicle and grabbing at the back of your thighs to pull you against his front, you fold, letting his lips and hands distract you from it. Then you straddle him, eager to have him inside you to pull away from the siren alarm ringing loud inside your head. He’s rock hard again and you take his cock in your hand, slapping it against your pussy lips to share your juices and the condom’s lubricant with each other. Sungchan rests his forehead against yours as you look down together at the scene.
When you move up enough for the head of his cock to catch on your hole, you both sigh, but it slips and hits your clit, so you scoot forward to get better leverage to put him inside you. Sungchan supports you with gripping hands on your back while you move your hips back up and finally his cock prods on your entrance. You’re both sighing together again when he enters you, and when Sungchan meets resistance half his way inside, he pulls you up slightly and rubs your hips, muttering about how good you’re taking him until you release more wetness, your walls fluttering and stretching to accommodate all of him.
Soon enough his thick cock is deep inside you and Sungchan bottoms out with a huff, watching as your pussy envelopes him whole. His mouth is slightly open and his two front teeth show behind his upper lip just like a bunny’s, sweat glistening on his forehead, that heart-shaped spot his hairline makes taunting you again. Your heart swells at the sight of it all, and you hate how cute he is whilst his cock is splitting you open. You place a kiss on the spot on his forehead just like you wanted before and then drop another one on the mole on the corner of his upper lip. Sungchan pulls your lips to his as you experimentally move up and down on him.
“You feel so good, princess,” he moans, breaking the kiss.
“Big,” you whimper out, scratching at his shoulders. “Feels so full, Jinsu.”
He chuckles and kisses on your temple. “I know, princess. But you like it, right?”
“Yeah,” you sigh, grabbing at his chest and gazing at his eyes again. “I like it so much.”
And you do. You like it so much that you start riding him with full energy, needing to show him how much you like him inside you, how much you like him. You try to convey with your body the words you haven’t been able to reveal, trying to show him and yourself how much this is right because of how good it feels. Because maybe if you bounce on his dick just right, suck on his pulse point the way he likes it and give him high pitched moans that compliment his performance he’ll start to like you back.
“You’re so perfect,” he says over your ear, his fringe tickling your cheek. “So fucking perfect.”
You want to scream at him that he’s right, that you are perfect, perfect for him. But instead, you purse your lips together and focus on rolling your hips against his until your thighs burn. Sungchan’s hands are splayed on your butt cheeks and he aids you, helping you by moving you up and down in a steady rhythm. He looks at your face as you scrunch up your nose and close your eyes to focus on keep riding him. You try to pick up your movements, needing a faster place to bounce back on him in a way that doesn’t tire you out as much. But Sungchan keeps slowing you down, distracting you by kissing on your pulse point, fondling your boobs, sucking on your nipples or pulling your face to kiss you. While he showers you with affection with his lips, his hand presses deeply and firmly on your back so you ride him languidly, almost stopping at times when the movements pull hoarse moans out of you both.
After a while, you start slacking because you’re actually becoming tired, trembling and losing your flow completely. Sungchan increases his efforts, trying to move you on him with only his hands, but you already surpassed the time you are usually able to ride him and your body is spent. You press your lips on his clavicle and slump against him, giving up completely.
You feel Sungchan lips on the nape of your neck and then his light chuckle. “Want me to take over?” He asks in a gentle tone.
“Yes please,” you breathe against his sternum.
He rubs the expanse of your legs and kisses your shoulder before pressing his hands on the back of your thighs and getting up with you on his lap. You think he’s going to lay you back on his sheets, but are surprised when he carries you over to his dresser, his hand knocking over and away some bottles of perfume and deodorant as he drops you on top of it. You jolt from how cold the wood feels on your heated skin and his cock slips out of you, making you both laugh a beat later.
“Why not the bed?” You ask breathless and still chuckling, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his middle as you shuffle to the edge of the dresser, watching Sungchan’s eyes turn into half-moons as he laughs with you.
“Just wanted to have you here, too,” he whispers, draping his arms tight around you and kissing you again.
He’s so playful and happy today, kissing you so much and complimenting you, slowing down and taking his time with you, his touches so careful and gentle you can’t help but start hoping. You hope that this, whatever this new side of him he’s showing you today, means something more. The feeling chews brutally on your heart, making you aware that you probably won’t come out of it alive.
Sungchan hooks one arm under your leg and pulls you to his body until half of your butt is hanging on the edge of the dresser, then grabs at his dick to guide it back to your hole, groaning when he’s fully inside of you again. You think he’s going to thrust his hips hard and fast, but he surprises you one more time by pulling back slowly, almost all the way out, before driving himself inside of you again just as gently. You sigh at the fullness and he does it again, his eyes fixated on where you two meet. This way you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock hitting all the right stops inside you, your toes curling and a moan boiling on your throat from how good it all feels. When he glides back one more time, you lift his head to look into his eyes, and he keeps your gaze as he leisurely fills you up one more time.
 “I love feeling every part of you like this,” he says when he’s bottomed out again, and you think you might die from heartache if he keeps treating you this way.
However, you don’t have the time – and you seriously don’t want to – dwell on it because in the next moment he’s thrusting inside you more forcefully and faster, making you pant and moan profusely again. You let your eyes roam over his form whilst he fucks you deep and hard. He’s so attractive it makes you a little crazy. Sturdy and toned body, a defined chest, six-pack glistening with sweat, biceps flexing as he keeps you in place, veins on his forearms bulging up, a muscular back and firm hips and long strong legs supporting all of it. So tall and strong. His face is ridiculously good-looking, too. Thick brows, wide eyes, a structured nose and pink full lips, his cupid’s bow so well designed you think it was handcrafted by God himself. You don’t know whether to thank him or Sungchan’s parents for putting him in the world. He’s perfect. And great at fucking. You kind of hate him.
Sungchan catches your wandering eyes over him and grins at you. “Like what you see?” He whispers, chest pressing on yours as he slows down his pace.
You roll your eyes. You also hate him for being so smug. “You’re handsome. What should I do? Look away?”
He chuckles and kisses your cheek. “No. You can look all you want, doll. Memorize it even.”
You pinch his shoulders and graze your teeth on his cheek for that and he shakes with laughter. “Such a cocky boy,” you whisper.
He holds your face in both of his hands as his hips keep meeting yours, going back to the slow measured thrusts inside you. “You’re so beautiful, too,” he mutters and kisses you again, halting all of his movements as his tongue darts inside your lips, tasting every crevice of your mouth. But you’re burning inside and you don’t care for slow and sweet anymore. You want him to ruin you, so you buck your hips forward for him to fill you up all over again.
He exhales and bites on your lower lip as you try working him inside of you the same way he was doing, but you fail. Your rhythm is shit and you’re still exhausted from riding him earlier, so you whine and grip his shoulders. “Sungchan, take me back to the bed so you can fuck me right,” you mumble, wiggling your body and trying to hop down the dresser as he keeps pressed against you, peppering kisses over your neck. “Please, Jinsu.”
He draws back from your neck, then, and quickly hooks his arms over your legs, hands splaying on your butt, to carry you back to the bed, remaining connected with you. You like how he makes you feel so small, as if you weigh nothing even though you have fat on your belly and plump thighs and arms. He never comments on it, too, and you’re so grateful for him never making you feel anything but desirable as your back meets his sheets and he hovers over you again. He's big in more ways than one.
You arch your back so his cock keeps filling you up, searching for that place inside you he always hits so good. But Sungchan has other plans, and his hands come to your wrists to stop your movements, holding your hands over your head as he presses all of his body on yours, your boobs squishing against him. His eyes bore into yours as he leisurely presses his cock inside you again and you bear your nails down on his knuckles. You desperately want to feel him with your hands. And you badly want him to stop looking at you with that intense gaze that makes you think – makes you feel – he cares about you the same way you care about him.
When he kisses you again, you can’t take it anymore, huffing at being constrained by your hands and urging him to look at you. “Can you flip me over?” You ask and Sungchan’s eyes shine bright at your sentence. He can never resist having you in doggy and you smile mischievously when you’re already laying on your stomach a second later, Sungchan manhandling you the way he wants.
“Hands and knees, baby,” he instructs and you fumble to obey his command, pushing yourself up and back on your knees and positioning your hands on the bed at the length of your shoulders to support your body.
Sungchan instantly corrects your form, one hand sneaking in between your thighs to spread them further apart and another pressing on your back for you to lean your upper body down, making you arch. You sigh from feeling his warm touch over your skin, wiggling your ass in the air for him. He chuckles at you and gives a soft slap at your right butt cheek and you laugh with him.
“You look so pretty in this position,” he says, now placing himself behind you and shimmying his knees in between your legs. “You know I love to fuck you like this, right?”
“Yes,” you whisper, anticipation building high as you feel him prepare to enter you again. “And I love when you fuck me like this.”
Sungchan hums at you, and you finally feel the warmth of his skin on yours as he slaps his dick over the curve of your ass, making you purr. “And I love this ass, too,” he mutters, resting his cock on your body as his hands grab at your ass. Then he gives it another hit, this time harder than the first one, his palm softly massaging the spot after. You stumble on the bed slightly from the shock, smothering a moan. “Love how it looks when I fuck you.”
You know by now that he’s enjoying his time teasing and playing with you, but you’re so desperate to feel him inside of you again that you don’t mind begging for it. “Jinsu, please. Can you please put it back in?”
He snickers at you and finally finishes rearranging himself, his knuckles brushing against the back of your thighs as he begins tugging on his dick again and guiding it inside you, the head of it pressing on your entrance. “Okay, doll, but just because I want it just as bad as you.”
He slides hard and fully inside you in one go, driving you forward on the mattress. You sigh contently, feeling full and complete. In this new angle, he feels even deeper. Sungchan groans as he feels your cunt spasming around him, one hand gripping your right hip and the other kneading your ass. He pulls back halfway and pushes in again, harder than before, and your eyes roll to the back of your head from how good it already feels.
“You good, princess?” He asks, stilling inside of you.
“Yeah. Feels so deep,” you whisper, leaning the side of your face on the sheets above you to try to look back to him. You only get a glimpse of his left ear and cheek and how his biceps look holding you down, the rest of your view being obstructed by your own body.
“Hmm, I know,” he muses, languidly moving in and out of you, now both of his hands landing on your ass cheeks to spread them apart. You’re pretty sure he’s indulging himself in feeling the plush of your skin spilling between his fingers and watching how your pussy swallows him whole from that angle. He’s addicted to the image and feel of you like this. “I always hit it so deep like this.”
“Uh-huh. And you can hit it harder and faster, too, right?” You tease, pushing yourself back on his cock to make him fuck you swiftly.
He laughs and moves one hand to your hip again, leaning further into you and pressing his hips against yours. “Sorry. Got distracted by your ass again”, he confesses and it’s your time to snicker at him. But soon he begins to drive his cock harder and faster inside you, just like you asked, and your laugh is replaced by moans. “Better now?”
“Fuck yes,” you groan, feeling his dick hit all the right places inside of you. “Please don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he assures you, his hips kissing yours again and again, the sound of your skins smacking together echoing through the room.
He’s been driving you crazy the whole night with his slow and measured thrusts, his gentle and nice words and his overflowing affection, so it’s no wonder you’re already moaning loudly and fisting the sheets of his bed in very little time. Sungchan is no better than you, though. You can hear him grunting every time his hips kiss yours and feel his legs tensing beneath you. He probably planned to excessively and deliberately tease you until you were begging to cum, but he didn’t realize he’d also be overstimulating himself before getting to the finish line. It’s as annoying as it is adorable.
“Holy shit. You really look so good like this, princess,” he grunts, his eyes admiring how your ass jiggles against him with every forceful drive of his cock inside of you. “Wanna burn this image on my mind. I won’t ever forget it.”
Your chest expands at his admission, getting dizzy from the knowledge that he’s so transfixed by you that he says something like that in the heat of the moment. The feeling curls inside your chest and you smile. Maybe he does reciprocate your feelings for him. Who knows?
You open your mouth to say something teasing about his statement, but the words are long forgotten when he reaches his hand up your shoulder to wrap around it and tugs you back against him hard, moving you back to him as he continues driving himself forwards. Your loud moans of his name turn into broken whimpers of random words you don’t even remember thinking.
“So wet and warm for me, gripping me so tight,” he says above you and you wonder how he’s still capable of forming sentences when that ability is now so hard for you. “Fucking perfect.”
“Your dick is perfect,” you try to make out even though your brain is a mess. “You are perfect.”
He moans and grips you tighter, showing he understood you. “Thank you, doll. Now c'mere,” he says, moving his palm on your shoulder the other way around, hooking it under you. “Wanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.”
Again, he maneuvers you the way he wishes to. With his cock still inside you, he removes his legs from between yours to position them outside of you now, putting pressure so you have no choice but to drive your legs together. The movement makes your pussy snugger around his cock and he moans, halting for a beat to bask in the feeling of it. Then he pushes your upper half up, hauling you up with his grip on your shoulder, making you raise yourself again until your back meets his chest. You feel prickles on your arm at the close contact and sweat makes you both sticky, your skin gluing you to him as Sungchan now moves a hand to grab at one of your tits and the other one to cross over your whole waist, clinging your body to his.
You’re molded together. You won’t complain about it.
He rests his chin on your shoulder and grazes his thumbnail on your nipple, making you hiss. Then he starts moving again, his hips driving backwards and forwards with enough force to drive you away from him. Except his arms are still steady and firm around you, keeping you connected even through his hard thrusts inside of you, and you reach down to grip his thighs, your nails scratching him.
“That’s it, princess, taking me so well,” he rasps on your ear and you bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from being too loud.
“Shit, Jinsu, I think I’m-" You try to stutter out, your voice becoming high and airy as the head of his cock rubs deliciously on your g-spot.
“Fuck yeah, I can feel you clenching around me,” he says and after his words you feel your cunt contracting even more, trying to keep him inside of you forever. “You’re going to cum for me one last time?”
“Yesyesyes.” You turn your head slightly back so you can rest your forehead on his temple. He turns his face to yours, too, and you watch as droplets of sweat fall from his hair to his face. You move your hand to his face to keep him there and Sungchan does the same with the hand that was gripping your waist, moving it to the side of your face to stroke over your cheekbone with his fingers. “I’m so close, Jinsu,” you murmur, lips ghosting over his.
“Me too, princess,” he replies and drops a kiss on the corner of your lips. “Let’s do it together, okay?”
You nod just as he slides his hand from your boob to your clit, rubbing it in quick little circles. The added stimulation on your clitoris makes you light-headed and you try to grip at the last shreds of your sanity to stay in the moment with him. Sungchan’s eyes shine against yours and you overwhelm your senses trying to concentrate on feeling everything at once. His hands and hold all over you, his fingers coaxing your orgasm out of you, his legs hitting on the back of your thighs, his hair brushing against your forehead, the smell of him and of sex – the smell of both of you together – invading your nostrils, his strength driving his hips against yours, his perfect dick hitting inside of you so good, his voice whispering dirty sweet nothings to you. And his lips that attach to yours the moment you’re on the edge of breaking apart, finally making you cum.
Sungchan kisses you while your pussy convulses on his cock and he thrusts inside you one, two, three more times until he’s spilling inside the condom. You keep clenching around him, trying to milk him until the last drop, and he keeps stroking your clit and kissing your lips. Only when your body starts twitching from the overstimulation and you grab at his forearm, he removes his hand from your cunt and detaches his lips from yours to kiss your cheek next. You sigh lazily, trembling on his arms as he pecks the same spot over and over, still muttering compliments and thank you’s. You can’t make out what he’s saying exactly because your blood is still ringing in your ears, your heart is beating rapidly, your thighs are sore and your body is starting to feel the first signs of exhaustion. So, you caress his forearm and hope it’s enough to return the sentiment.
His grip on you loosens just a little and you try to shift ahead. Sungchan, of course, notices your movement, and in no time he’s delicately laying both of you back on the bed, your heated chest rubbing against the cool sheets becoming a luxury as he keeps his rib cage connected to your back, being careful not to drop his full weight on you. He closes his lips over your shoulder blades and you indulge yourself in the attention and tenderness he’s still giving you while you catch your breath.
After some time of exchanging lazy caresses and quick kisses, he finally disconnects his body from yours, pulling out of you and getting up to tie off the end of the condom. You instantly miss his warmth and wrap a hand around his wrist, turning on your side to look at him. He smiles at you and bends over to kiss your forehead quickly.
“I have to drop this in the trash and clean myself a little. I’ll be back in a minute,” he states and gives you another kiss, this time on the lips. Then he tugs his briefs back on, turns and walks out of the bedroom in the direction of the bathroom.
You exhale deeply as you turn your head to the ceiling, watching the shadows casted on it by the small droplets of rain still falling randomly outside. Your mind starts to work right away, trying to recap everything you just lived with Sungchan to hunt for signs of his feelings for you. But you’re so tired you banish the thoughts to the back of your head, covering yourself with the bedding from your toes to your head in a feeble attempt to hide from your own mind.
Sungchan is back a minute later, laying on the bed and draping himself all over and around you. You pinch his ribs when he drops his full weight on your stomach and he laughs, pulling at the sheets to see your face and body again. Once your head is out, he threatens to tickle you in retaliation for the tweak in his chest and you lift your arms in surrender, laughing with him.
When you’re both done laughing, Sungchan takes your hands in his and pins them to the bed beside your head, then kisses you. You smile between the soft press of his lips, giddy in oxytocin and pleasure.
“You should probably use the bathroom, too,” he states when he pulls back and you know he’s right. You need to pee and freshen up. And find the courage to leave his house and go to yours. You still have an exam in the morning. “I’ll grab your clothes from the dryer while you’re at it.”
You sigh dramatically and pull yourself from the bed and Sungchan’s arms. He chuckles and hands you a sheet to cover your body before you make your way to the bathroom, murmuring about how “Shotaro could get home anytime”.
You nod and when you turn to walk away, he gives a pat at your bottom, making you yelp. You look over your shoulder to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, but the smile on your face lets him know it’s all in good fun.
Inside the restroom, you take your time peeing and stretching your limbs back to their places. You hope the soreness from being tense or in the same positions for too long will go away after a good night's sleep. Then you step into the shower to quickly rinse yourself of any bodily fluids and sweat, cleaning your hands methodically and letting some water fall into your messy hair. You wrap your body with the same towel you used earlier and move to stand in front of the mirror again to finger-comb your hair back in a ponytail. But the lilac polka dotted bow scrunchie you had on isn’t with you anymore, probably getting lost around Sungchan’s room in the midst of everything.
You come back from the bathroom and find Sungchan seated on his bed, waiting for you already dressed and with your dried clothes placed by his side, a pensive look in his face while he stares at the wall opposed to him.
“I think I lost my scrunchie,” you say to him, pouting both because your favorite hair accessory and because Sungchan is already clothed. You were hoping you’d ogle his body some more before going.
Sungchan’s head snaps up when you arrive, like you’ve caught him off guard while his mind was elsewhere, but he promptly shakes his reaction off with a smile. “We’ll search for it later.” He puts your clothes on his lap and invites you closer. “Here, I’ll help you dress.”
You saunter over to him and stand in between his legs, thinking he’s just going to hand you each piece of your clothing as you dress up. He surprises you when he picks up your panties, holding it with his two hands inside its waistband, and bends down, lowering the item so you can pass your legs through the openings.
You quirk an eyebrow up at him. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he replies with a smirk, staying very still as you analyze him, gaze unwavering on yours. You shrug and do as he pleases, standing on one foot and then on the other as you pass your legs through the loops successfully one at a time. He tugs the underwear up until it’s placed correctly around your hips, then pinches gingerly on the place where your right thigh becomes your right butt cheek, as he proudly says, “Atta girl.”
You roll your eyes at him. “I think you’re kinda obsessed with my ass.”
He smiles and preens his neck up to kiss on your clavicle. You fight the urge to search the contact of his lips again when he retreats. “You’re right, I kinda am.” Then he picks up your bra next and signals his forefinger up and in a circular motion for you to turn around.
You turn on your heels and Sungchan’s fingertips start caressing both of your arms, moving softly along your biceps until your forearms and then to your wrists, bra still on his right hand between his pinky and ring fingers. Once he gets to your hands, he hooks the straps of the undergarment over your arms and pulls it up until each one is located on your shoulders. His hands go to your back to close the clasp, and you feel the teeth in the clip nipping slightly at your skin as he fastens it. He drops a kiss on your scapula and goosebumps raise all over your body. You wonder if he’s doing this on purpose, if his plan is to tease you and ruin you again and, at least, if this is as hot to him as it is to you. If he keeps this up, you might only get out of his place in the morning.
He grabs at your hips and turns back to him again, then holds your jeans, scrunching up the fabric of the legs so you can see the openings from the waistband until the bottom hems. That’s when you break your silence. “Is this some type of kink of yours?”
He chortles at you and holds the pants down for you to put on. You comply, passing your legs through the openings just like you did with the panties, and letting him yank it up. You pay attention to his eyes as he does it. His gaze sparkles as he watches your skin disappearing between his fingers and behind the fabric. You think it’s kind of cute and it reminds you of when you were little and did the same with your toys, changing their outfits nearly every minute. He’s playing with you as if you really are his doll, dressing you up for him. But behind the glow on his eyes, you also catch a hint of longing. Something indescribable, that you can’t quite put your finger on.
Sungchan drums his fingers around the waistband of your jeans until they go around all the way to find the button on its front. “Not a kink,” he says sincerely, pressing the button through its loop and then moving his digits down the fly to feel around for the zipper. “Just doing something nice for you.”
“Why?” You question, suspicious eyes falling over his face as he focuses on tugging the zipper up and securing your fastened pants.
He shrugs. “Because I want to.” Then, he hooks his fingers on the belt loops in front of your pants and pulls on them, therefore also pulling you to him. “Because you deserve it,” he says simply with a smile.
You blush at his words, smiling back at him and leaning down to press a kiss on his lips. You want to get lost in his mouth again. You want to get rid of your clothes once more and lay down with him in this bed for a week, finals and chores and college responsibilities be damned. But Sungchan, ever the responsible one, withdraws and puts some distance between your bodies before you get too eager.
“There’s still some clothes left to put on,” he says, snickering when you sigh in response.
You cave in to his will, collaborating with him to put your shirt over your head and then your hoodie. When you’re completely dressed and you straighten the clothes on your body, Sungchan finishes his little game of dress up by tying the strings of your sweater together with a bow. “Pretty girl,” he says.
“Pretty boy,” you say back, moving to sit on his lap, your legs perpendicular to his, one arm going around his shoulders and the other one resting over his, your fingers poking on the collar of his shirt, nails scratching the skin underneath. “I just think it’s a little unfair that I didn’t get to help you dress.”
He chuckles and moves his hand to close around yours, turning it to press his lips on your knuckles. “Maybe another time.”
You scrunch your nose up, obviously not satisfied with his reply. “Another time, then. I should probably get going anyway.”
Sungchan nods, but instead of letting you go, he pulls you close once more, wrapping his arms around your middle, his hands rubbing your back and his face hiding between your neck and shoulder. You hug him back just as tight, running your fingers through his hair while he breathes in your scent and presses kisses into every part his lips can reach. You stay like this for what feels like hours. Every time you think he’s done, he fixes his hold to hug you even tighter, almost binding you two together. When he finally slackens his grip a little, it’s only to move his hand to the back of your head and coax your lips in his. His tongue enters your mouth hungry and yearning, and you kiss him back with all the energy you can muster up. Just like all the kisses before, this one leaves you breathless and dazzled. Your mind is already fogged up and numb by the time he finally pulls back and, with moist lips and a piercing gaze, presses his mouth to yours one final time.
“You should probably get going,” he repeats back to you. You have to blink your eyes open two times to understand what he’s saying and command your wobbly legs to remember how to stand up again. “I’ll give you a ride.”
You nod at him and when you get up from his lap, Sungchan slides his hands down your shoulders to your upper arms, then to your forearms and wrists. He squeezes your hands two times before letting you go. You move to his nightstand to retrieve your cell phone, now charged and full of notifications you still leave unopened, and put it in your pocket. Then you bend down to plug the charger out of the switch.
“Uh, I actually wanted to talk to you about something before you go,” Sungchan says the moment you take the charger out and you hear the uncertainty in his words, the fear.
Your heart skips a beat, your mind already whirring with a thousand possibilities of whatever he has to say. But you try to keep your expression emotionless and your eagerness at bay while you stand upright again. “Sure. What is it?” You roll up the charger’s wire and nod to him, encouraging him to keep going before turning on your heels to put your things away in your bag.
You’re already with your back turned to him, crouching down to your backpack and opening the zipper of its front pocket when he speaks again. “You remember the girl I partnered up with for my organic chemistry project?”
You pause when you hear him. The zipper’s slide is still as ever beneath your fingertips, the sound of the teeth getting dragged away completely stopping as you remain unmoving. You can sense something is wrong. You feel it in your bones. Whatever his next words are going to be, you’ll not like it one bit.
If Sungchan notices your momentary stillness, he doesn’t make any comment about it. You feel suspended in the air, on the edge of an information that’ll make you jump over the cliff. You wish you could go back to two minutes ago, when you didn’t know he had something to tell you. But your curiosity and the red flags you so carefully stepped around before now come to the forefront of your mind. And you take the bait, dragging the teeth of the zipper back until its stop to mask up for any agitation in your voice when you reply. “The sophomore majoring in biology? Yeah, what about her?”
“We’ve been hanging out for a while now,” he replies quickly this time while you’re putting your charger inside the bag and closing the pocket back. “It’s been working out pretty well.”
You stand up, then, and Sungchan pauses. He’s probably inspecting your reaction before letting the full truth out. You know exactly what he’s going to say. He’s about to reject you, to choose her over you. You wish you couldn’t be able to hear right now. But you need to listen to him so you can move on from whatever this fucked-up thing between you two is. And you decide you need to see it, too, turning around to watch him and crossing your arms over your chest, waiting for the impact.
“I actually really like her,” he says, eyes fixed on the spot behind you on the wall, not quite looking at you. His tone is heavy on the really. He probably just likes you. But her? He really likes her.
And there it is. The whole truth. All those things you ignored before had been there for a reason. The two weeks with no contact. The text on his laptop that he scurried to hide from you. His insistence on wearing a condom. The many kisses, the slow fucking, the compliments. His intense gaze. Even his fucking words.
“I love it when you call me that.”
“I love feeling every part of you like this.”
“Wanna burn this image on my mind. I won’t ever forget it.”
“You’re fucking perfect.”
“Wanna feel your skin on mine when you cum.”
“You’re going to cum for me one last time?”
All of those words weren’t because he’s in love with you. He didn’t really miss you, either. Maybe your body, sure. But not you, not really. Not at all.
The only reason why he was saying all of that was because he was savoring his time with you. He was saying goodbye. And you fell for it like a fool.
You have every right to be mad at Sungchan for taking advantage of your vulnerable self just to fuck you one last time. He likely planned to just keep ghosting you until you got the message, but then you called him and offered the perfect opportunity of a farewell shag on a silver platter. And he wasn’t going to reject it. He played his cards right, of course.
But you’re not mad at him. At least he gave you three earth-shattering orgasms before breaking your heart.
You’re really mad with yourself. Because you fucking knew it. The signs were everywhere. His silence about the status of your relationship wasn’t because he liked you too much to confess to you or because he was afraid you’d not like him back. It was a strategy. It was about keeping you on his side for as long as he wanted to have you. Good and easy pussy. He didn’t even have to make an effort to lie to you. You did it yourself, bending the truths so you could keep being with him, in whichever way he’d let you.
Plus, there’s no way a man like Sungchan would settle for someone like you. You just choose to push away all the hints he gave you just to feed on crumbs of his affection. A trauma response or some shit like that, no doubt. You’d have to ask your psychology student friend.
God, you really are pathetic.
“You’re not going to say anything?” Sungchan asks, and you notice you’ve been lost throwing a pity party on your own thoughts for a while.
To your merit, you shake it off like a champ, smiling at him and falling into your chill girl persona. “That’s great, Jinsu,” you say, smiling even though you’re dying inside. “I guess that means we should stop meeting up, right?”
Sungchan’s eyes widen. He obviously wasn’t expecting that reaction. You’ve probably shown your feelings for him a little too much and that made him real sure you’d have an outburst. But you’re a chill girl right now.
Chill girls don’t care about their flings liking someone else. Chill girls don’t want to know everything about it, too. They aren’t curious in the slightest about how long he’s been seeing her, how many times he’s fucked her, if he calls her princess and doll too and if she’s been on the same sheets they’ve just cummed all over in.
And chill girls particularly don’t mind when their friend with benefits for half a year is choosing someone he’s only known for two months over them.
He recovers quickly, looking sheepish while he nods, his cheeks blushing. “Yeah, would that be a problem? I’m actually planning to ask her to be my girlfriend this weekend.”
Shit, you didn’t need to know that. It hurts a little too much. Your smile falters for a beat. Then you turn away from him, busying yourself with picking your backpack up to put it over your body. “No problem at all.”
But Sungchan plays with your feelings until the end, putting his hands on your shoulders to spin you back to face him. “Are you really okay with this?” He questions with his best puppy eyes.
He’s still cute while he does it. What a fucker. Now you hate him for real.
If he thinks you’re going to spill your heart out to him and ask him to choose you, pick you, love you in a rendition to Meredith Grey’s speech, he’s very wrong. You still have some pride left.
“Yes. I’m happy for you, Jinsu,” you reply through gritted teeth, the same frozen smile from earlier on your face. You can only be so chill about this and he’s pushing it.
“Oh!” He exclaims after your words, like a lightbulb went out in his head. He at least has the decency to stutter and seem embarrassed as he asks, “Uh… Would you mind going back to call me by my name, too?”
Of course. You just lost your privilege to his nickname. Jinsu is reserved for his close friends and his soon-to-be girlfriend. And, obviously, he can’t risk his new girl hearing another woman calling him such an intimate pet name. She’d have questions.
And you’re nothing for him anymore. You have to stick with his name now.
“Of course, Sungchan.”
“Thanks, princess,” he says, and you quirk an eyebrow up at him. If you can’t call him Jinsu, his nicknames for you are forbidden, too. He covers his mouth with a hand when he notices what he said. “Sorry. Y/N.”
After that, you both walk to the foyer to put on your sneakers so Sungchan can take you home. You don’t want to be in his presence anymore and you try to argue that you would be okay getting an Uber, but he blabbers on about how he insists about it and that’s the least he could do.
You agree just to get it over with. Sungchan picks his car key from the holder in the hall and opens the door for you. You get a last look at his place before stepping out. You feel weird once you’re out and the door closes behind you, realizing that you’ll never be inside his house again. The feeling churns in your heart and your eyes prickle, but you breathe deep and will it to go away.
You both are silent the whole two flights of stairs down his garage. And you stay like that while you get in his car and he turns the engine on, still not speaking a thing as he drives out of the small building complex and takes the path to your home. The only noise is the music coming out the radio and his old car sputtering up.
Luckily enough, your apartment is just a ten-minute drive from his. When he stops the car at your building’s curb, you gather your things from the carpet and say your goodbye. But Sungchan puts his hand over your, though, stopping you from opening the door.
“Can I have one last hug?” He has the audacity to ask.
That’s when you break your chill act.
You look over at him with raw and rough hatred. And he sees it, because he instantly retreats his fingers from you and flinches on his seat. “No, Sungchan,” you almost growl at him, venom dripping from your mouth. “I think your girlfriend wouldn’t like that.”
She probably will not like finding your favorite scrunchie inside the first drawer of his nightstand where you left it before getting out of his room, too. But that’s not your problem to deal with.
After your final words, you open the door and get out of his car, practically running inside your complex. You stay somber while you walk inside and wait for the elevator. You stay solemn while you ride the elevator, waiting for it to get to your floor. You even remain serious while you type your code in and finally get inside your house.
But when you take your shoes off and drop your bag on the floor, your entryway light flickers over your head for a few seconds until the bulb goes out, leaving you in complete darkness. You stare into the dark and are also met with the silent empty space of your apartment.
You move your hand to the bow on your hoodie, the last snippet of your encounter with Sungchan you still have on. You pull on the strings and it disappears. Then you break down, curling over yourself until you’re on your knees, releasing loud sobs with chunks of tears coming out of your eyes.
What comes after is… being utterly alone. 
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author’s note: phew! thank you for reading this little monster. please consider letting me know what you think about it in the comments or my askbox. feel free to scream at me all you want, i welcome it! <3
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quinnylouhughesx43 · 17 hours
Text
Believe in Me — jh86
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summary: in which the summer following Jack’s rookie year is coming to an end. Not only did his rookie year come with being shafted by the league as the biggest bust, but he managed to get painted as the biggest (and newest) playboy of the league. His personal management team, the team’s management, and PR step in to clear this all up, but it takes work from Jack.
warnings/points of importance: use of y/n, fem!reader x jack, use of nicknames for female character and for Jack, fake dating trope, oblivious pining trope(?), childhood friends, minor usage of foul language, creation of side original characters for plot, time jumps, memories inserted - tumblr’s intention and italics used to notate, inner thoughts marked with ‘..’ and italicized if they occur
word count: 4.32
notes: any names used for original characters that relate to someone’s name or closely relate to a person’s name is purely by happenstance. The names were rolled by random from a generator where I inserted random first and last names.
© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.
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Y/n sat cross-legged on the worn wooden planks of the back porch swing, her eyes following the lazy dance of the sunset as it descended behind the distant tree line. Her childhood home had changed so little over the years, the same comforting embrace of familiarity wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a chilly evening. The porch swing squeaked in a soothing rhythm as both her and Jack slowly swung, a nostalgic tune that had serenaded countless summer nights spent sharing secrets and laughter with Jack. The only other kid who had been in her grade when she moved in, well really one of the only other neighborhood children. The other two children in the neighborhood were his brothers. All three of which had become as much a part of her life as the very foundation of the house she grew up in.
She had spent all day out with his family by the pool, her mother insisted he come to their house for dinner though. Nothing to offer course for their life, well a year ago it wouldn’t have been.
"Do you want to talk about your new headline?" Y/n tried to hold back the hint of amusement in her tone but failed miserably. Jack's rookie season had just come to an end before the beginning of summer. In just a few months he had gone from the talk of the league as the number one draft pick to talk of the league as a "bust."
He was nothing close to a bust. It was just how the year fell.
Jack leaned back in the swing, the sun's final strokes of light for the day painting his cheekbones. He sighed; a heavy exhale filled with the weight of the rumors that had been following him like a dark shadow. "It's just how it's going to be now. You know how it is with the media. They're desperate to find a new angle to keep me going." There were a few moments of silence shared between them before he found the words to continue. "First, it's all about my game, how I'm not scoring enough or I'm not this hotshot star that every analyst built me up to be. Season ends and it's about my supposed love life." His voice was a mix of annoyance and defeat. He was used to being the center of attention, truthfully he strived to be in the center of attention. He just wasn't used to it always being negative attention.
"To be it all, I have this video chat meeting with public relations, franchise management, and my management team about some idea they have come up with to help bring attention away from everything." Jack groaned. "We have three days left of the summer before we drive back to Jersey, I don't want to spend one of them in meetings."
Y/n nodded sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on his forearm and leaning herself over on him. "It's okay, bubs. Maybe it's nothing too serious." But she could tell from the furrow in his brow, the way his jaw clenched and the tension in his voice that he was already aware of what they had come up with. Or at least he had an idea. She didn't dare pry, they may be best friends, but Jack was clearly not ready to share his thoughts. "And... If it is serious I will be in Jersey this season to help you through it."
Jack gave her a grateful smile before standing up from the porch swing, stretching his arms out wide. "Yeah, you're right. I shouldn't worry about it tonight." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, a gesture that was as commonplace as breathing between the two of them. "Thanks for the pep talk, toots." He said, using the childhood nickname that never failed to make her smile despite the circumstances. "I should head back down the street to my parent's place. It's getting late."
As he turned to leave, the rising moon cast a cool glow over the yard, highlighting the tall blades of grass that danced with the intermittent breeze. Y/n watched him go, her mind racing with the implications of what might happen at that during his meeting tomorrow. Would they really suggest something so ridiculous? And if they did, how would Jack handle it?
Jack's footsteps grew fainter until they were swallowed by the night. The house, once alive with the echoes of their laughter, now felt eerily quiet. Y/n remained seated out on the swing, her thoughts spiraling into a whirlwind of doubt and concern. She knew Jack was strong, capable of taking on any challenge thrown his way, but the thought of him being manipulated into some scheme to save the face of the Devils franchise made her sick. Then she thought, what if they didn't call a meeting to manipulate him into anything? What if it's simply to offer suggestions on what he can do differently going forward?
Y/n eventually shut that portion of her brain off and headed inside herself. A long hot shower and her bed was calling her name.
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The next day Jack sat in his father's home office, the room smelling faintly of cologne and leather, waiting for the others to join the video call. The space was a testament to his father's success, filled with trophies and framed newspaper articles from his own days as a star player and coach. It was both inspiring and daunting, a constant reminder of the legacy he and his brothers were trying to live up to. The computer screen flickered to life, displaying a Zoom call with a row of faces, some familiar, some not. His management team, PR reps, and a couple of team officials stared back at him, all expectant and poised.
Jack leaned back in the chair, his casual attire feeling woefully inadequate among the suits and professional backgrounds of his callers. He had taken his mother's advice and dressed comfortably, but now he wished he had at least put on a button-up shirt. He glanced down at his New Jersey Devils t-shirt, the logo stretched slightly across his chest. It was a fan favorite, one that had been thrown at him in excitement by a young fan at a game. It felt like a piece of armor, a symbol of his pride and commitment to the team, but today it just made him feel like he was the kid, and he was playing dress-up in his dad's old gear.
The meeting began with a round of forced smiles and awkward greetings. The tension was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Y/n's words from the night before echoed in his mind, a comforting whisper amidst the storm of uncertainty. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for whoever their absurd suggestion be his girlfriend when they had conjured up the fake relationship idea to "fix" his image.
"Jack, before we start, do you remember the guidelines I told you for this relationship or should we go over them again with everyone here?" The voice was cold and calculated, belonging to one of the stern-faced PR reps. Her eyes bore into him through the screen, demanding his full attention.
Jack's stomach lurched. He had hoped they would just come right out with what was new, news. "I think everyone is aware of what we're trying to achieve here, but please go ahead," he said, trying to keep the sarcasm at bay.
The stern-faced public relations rep, Ms. Castellanos, nodded curtly. "Good. So, the first guideline is that you two must be seen together at least three times a week. This includes public appearances such as dates, her being seen attending your games, and even casual outings like grocery shopping or walking the dog. That is if you or her have one."
Jack's eyes widened slightly, glancing down at his half empty coffee mug. He didn't have a dog, but he still didn't know who this girl they paired him up with was. Plus, he didn't know if Y/n had picked up any new hobbies involving pets in her last year of college. It was never mentioned during their weekly calls or on visits. It would be important to know that since she’s going to be living with him.
"Jack, are you listening?" The voice brought him back to the present, the sternness of Ms. Castellanos' tone was unmistakable.
Jack swallowed down the anxiety that was bubbling up inside him and nodded in acknowledgement.
Ms. Castellanos continued, "Guideline two, and perhaps the most important one, is that the relationship must appear genuine. You must exhibit believable public affection and body language. This means holding hands, occasional kisses on the cheek, maybe a few on the lips if the situation calls for it. As for body language," the stone-cold lady stopped speaking, watching Jack carefully once more. "You're both young, attractive, and in the public eye. If you lean into each other, have your arms around each other's waist, or even occasionally rest your head on her shoulder, it'll look natural and convincing. The media will eat it up, and your image will be transformed from a lonely heartthrob to a lovestruck boyfriend in no time."
Jack felt his cheeks flush slightly, the thought of faking intimacy with someone he'd never met before was nerve-wracking, to say the least. He took another sip of his now lukewarm coffee, trying to imagine how awkward the first kiss would be. He had never been one for faking emotions, especially something as intimate as love.
Ms. Castellanos continued, her voice unforgiving. "Guideline four is critical. The relationship must end with your girlfriend, and I stress this, must be the one to initiate the breakup. It should be done publicly and dramatically enough to make headlines, but not so much that it causes a scandal." She paused, allowing the gravity of the situation to sink in. "You cannot under any circumstances leave her. If it looks like you're the one who ended things, it'll only add fuel to the fire of your reputation. You need to be seen as the heartbroken party, the victim of a fickle heart. It'll humanize you, make you more relatable to the fans."
Jack felt his jaw clench at the coldness of the plan. He had agreed to a fake relationship to get the media off his back, but this was starting to feel like a script for a reality TV show gone wrong. "And what happens if we... I mean, if she gets tired of the whole thing?" He stumbled over his words, trying to maintain some semblance of respect for the stranger he was about to be romantically linked with.
"Ah, that's where guideline five comes into play," said Ms. Castellanos, her eyes gleaming with the excitement of her own cleverness. "We've prepared a non-disclosure agreement that she will be signing before the relationship begins. It's quite comprehensive and includes clauses for breaking it off in a controlled manner. She'll understand her role in this, Jack."
Jack's grip tightened around his coffee mug, the cheap porcelain feeling fragile under his thumb. "But who is she?" he repeated, his voice a little louder, a hint of frustration creeping in.
Ms. Castellanos' smile didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Her name is Elena Petrov," she said smoothly. "A local influencer with a clean reputation. She's been briefed on the situation and has agreed to help. She's a fan of the team and understands the importance of this for your career."
"No." Jack huffed out. gaining the attention of everyone on the call. Just the same as Jack, everyone else barely stayed tuned into her annoying voice. "She is the reason I am in this shit hole. Her friend is the last girl I was with. Elena took all the pictures. Maggie? A little help here." Jack pleaded with the IT media girl that for some miraculous reason was sitting in on the call.
"Oh. Uhm, yes. It took me days to get the pictures she put up taken down. And Mr. Hughes, we were able to prove they were edited after looking closer at them," Maggie spoke up, her voice shaky, probably from fear of interrupting the woman that could potentially ruin their lives with a tweet.
Ms. Castellanos' eyes darted from Jack to Maggie and back again, her displeasure clear. "Jack, this is non-negotiable. This is what's best for your career right now. You need to be seen as more than just a party boy. The sooner you start this relationship with Elena, the sooner we can start repairing your image," she said, her voice like a whip cracking through the tension in the room.
Jack's manager, Mr. Taylor, cleared his throat before speaking up, his tone measured and calm. "Perhaps there's another option we haven't considered. What about Y/n?" he suggested, glancing at Jack, who looked up at him, hope flickering in his eyes.
Ms. Castellanos raised an eyebrow. "Your childhood friend?" She sounded skeptical, but the video stream grew quiet, all eyes on Jack.
Jack nodded, feeling the weight of the decision he was about to make. "Yeah, Y/n. We've been best friends since middle school. Everyone already thinks we're together. It'll be believable, and she's... she's not in the spotlight like Elena is. It'll keep things more low-key." He swallowed, hoping he wasn't about to ruin their friendship.
Ms. Castellanos leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "Very well, Jack. We'll consider it. But you need to talk to her and make sure she's on board with this. The last thing we need is for her to spill the beans and ruin the whole charade."
Jack nodded, his heart racing. He knew Y/n would do anything for him but asking her to be his fake girlfriend was a big ask. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation he was about to have. After the call ended, he let out a guttural groan due to frustration. He needed to go shoot some basketball or pucks before he talked Y/n, but he didn't have that time to waste. Instead of blowing off some of his stress he slipped on some shoes, kissed his momma goodbye, and headed out to the house he has visited time and time again.
The warm afternoon air was a major contrast to the coldness of the conversation he had just had. The streetlights flickered to life as Jack approached Y/n's house, the familiar path to her door as comforting as ever. He stopped in front of the door, the color of her door had changed since last summer, but the memories that lie behind it remained the same.
Jack took a deep breath before raising his hand to knock, the sound echoing through his head. Only thing on his mind was the conversation they were about to have. Jack flinched as he realized how hard and urgent he had beat on her mother’s front door. His heart thudded against his chest, partially with the anticipation of her reaction to the proposal and because of how quickly he had walked down the block. Jack took a deep breath in an urgent need to calm himself and appear as normal as possible before he was face to face with her.
Before he could finish his internal mantra of calming himself, the front door swung open in a rush. He was slightly hoping it would somehow be one of her relatives, but there she was, looking up at him with her soft, hopeful eyes. Her hair messily tossed into a messy bun atop her head and a sprinkle of fresh freckles danced across her nose from spending the day in the sun with his family yesterday. She was wearing the momentous hoodie that he had gifted her before leaving last summer. A hoodie that held a lot in its threads for the two of them. For her, it now held a lot of silent screams and wiped away tears from the last year, but it still held their joint memories.
‘It originally had become Jack’s superstitious hoodie for a while. The lucky hoodie he would wear all the way up to when he would change for warm ups, then she would wear it. This superstition developed during the years of world juniors. The year he brought home the Gold, the superstition shifted. Jack had a “girlfriend” that entire season and she wasn’t fond of the idea of Jack and Y/n swapping clothes like they did. The games with the development program were when she noticed this happening. She confronted Y/n about having a useless crush on her boyfriend and she would be taking over wearing his hoodie from then on. Jack didn’t take lightly to it, that was his best friend, his biggest non-family supporter. So, he decided y/n would wear the hoodie the entire time, from the time they all got dressed for the day to after the game. Now, it’s hers entirely, his decision since he couldn’t be here for her and live out his dream. He wanted her to have a piece of him, but if be a piece of them. Once again, it has become her comfort item as it has been back then.’
She fiddled with the stretched out sleeves hanging over left hand anxiously as her right hand was still grasping the door knob.
"How was your meeting?" The words fell from her lips so fast she hadn't taken a moment to invite him inside. Y/n had sat out on the porch swing all morning waiting to hear from him. Seeing him now ignited her anxiety and her need to know.
Jack let out a simple laugh at her eagerness to know. He softly touched her side, giving a slight nudge as if to signal her to walk backwards into the house.
The coolness of the air conditioning kissing his skin. "It was... interesting," he said, his voice a mix of relief and dread.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. She walked a few steps backwards with his guidance to allow him in, the old floorboards creaking under their weight. "Interesting as in good or interesting bad?"
Jack shrugged, his smile wavering as he let go of her and made his way into the living room. The same room where they had spent hours playing video games, watching movies, doing homework.
—Could he ask her to do this? What if it blows up in their faces and ruins everything. What if he ruins her? He’d never be able to live with himself for hurting her.
The couch looked inviting, but he knew better than to sit down without spilling his guts. "Well, it’s one of those ‘depends on how you take it’ interesting type situations..." he trailed off, his eyes wandering around the room.
Y/n looked at him, her eyebrows rising in a questioning manner. Her eyes were filled with a mix of concern and curiosity. She could read the hesitancy written all across him. Starting with wanting to open up about his meeting. Which is something he's never had an issue with, at least with her, to not wanting to sit down. Almost as if, if he got too comfortable he would tell too much.
Taking a hold of his hand, rubbing her thumb over his palm she leaned her head on his upper arm. A common gesture between them. “Jackers?” She whispered so softly, he nearly missed it. He hummed in response coming out from where he drifted off too. She took a hold of his hand and softly pulled him down to take a seat on the couch with her.
“Jackers, just tell me. Did they come up with something ridiculous?"
Jack let out a small laugh , the sound hollow and forced. "Ridiculous doesn't even begin to cover it," he whined, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "They want me to start a fake relationship with someone who I know is not going to help me. Then my manager suggested someone who would be great and I was for it because we already know each other but.." He took a deep breath, bracing himself for her reaction.
Y/n let go of his hand, in an unnatural reaction as they have been platonically physical since high school, "A fake relationship?" she echoed that one snippet. “With.. With who? Since I’ll be living with you I should be prepared for a new girl even if she is a fake girlfriend.”
Jack took a deep breath and looked up at her, his eyes filled with a desperation she had never seen before. "Toots, I really don't know what to do about this. PR decided on Elena Petrov. B—”
“You mean the friend of the bitch who started this mess? No I’m sorry the two who started this mess? You’re going to pounce around all lovey with the girl who put you here?!” Y/n’s chest heaved up and down heavily. She watched Jack’s face twist in annoyance then soften.
“If you had let me finish… I flat out said no. I will not and am not going to do this plan with her. When I told everyone on the call right then that I wouldn’t, my manager suggested someone else. But I don’t know if they’ll do it. They seem pretty disappointed in me…” Jack kept his voice even and didn’t raise it. He knew how you felt about being yelled at and he couldn’t be the one to cause a panic attack because he got a little upset.
“Well, who did they suggest? Maybe I can help. As long as it’s not Elena..”
“They suggested you. They asked me if I thought you would do it or if I would like you to do it with me. But if you're upset or disappointed, I'll tell them no right now," Jack explained, his voice a low rumble of uncertainty. He started fishing his phone out of his pocket in case he had to call his manager.
Y/n felt her throat tighten as a knot formed, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She had always been there for Jack, and he for her, but this was something entirely different. This was a line they hadn’t truly crossed, and she wasn't sure if she was ready to pretend to cross it again. "Jack, I..." she murmured looking down at her hands in her lap, her voice trembling slightly. "Yes, I'll do it."
Jack's head snapped to look at her, his eyes failing to meet hers as she’s staring down, though a spark of hope igniting within him still. "You will?" he asked, his voice filled with a mix of surprise and relief.
Y/n nodded, her throat tight with unspoken emotions. "Yeah, I'll do it," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "For you, I'll do it."
Jack's shoulders slumped with relief. He reached out to lift her head hesitantly so that he could meet her eyes with his. His eyes searching hers for any hint of hesitation. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly. "You don't have to if you don't want to, management can figure it out.”
Y/n forced a smile and nodding her head yes, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and dread. The thrill of being able to go and do things with Jack was nice, but the dread of being scrutinized by females she didn’t know was already gnawing at her. "Besides, it's only for a couple of months, right?"
Jack's smile didn't part to show his teeth, it stayed tight lipped, evident he wasn't as enthused as his tone of voice was letting on. "Yup! Just for a couple of months."
"Okay, we can totally pull this off. It will be like playing pretend, remember?" She nudged him with her elbow, trying to lighten the mood with a memory from their childhood. More so for herself than him.
"You mean like when we got married under that old oak tree at my grandparents' house in the summer between sixth and seventh grade?" Jack nudged her back.
"Yup when you only agreed to get pretend married so you could get your first kiss."
She let a little giggle slip out as she reminisced on the memory of her and Jack as kids under the oak tree.
A young Jack with his signature smirk standing at the ‘altar’ with the “preacher Luke”. Jack didn’t wait for Luke to do his part of the pretend wedding he skipped straight to the kiss. ‘Couldn’t wait tootsie I was just wanting my 1st’
"If I remember correctly that was your first kiss too, and you asked for another one because of the ‘belly flies’." Jack teased her enjoying seeing her cheeky smile and blush creeping up on to her cheeks.
Y/n’s laughter echoed loudly through the room. "Jack Hughes, you are such a jerk!" She said playfully, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Jack laughed echoing her laughter. "So, do we have an agreement? You'll be okay with fake dating me, even though we never got fake divorced?"
Y/n shook her head yes once again, while rolling her eyes at the boy next to her. “Yes, Jackers. Even though you never fake divorced me, I will fake date you.”
If she only knew that Jack was silently and brutally beating himself up for this. They were in for a roller coaster of chaos and changes.
Now that he had secured one portion of the agreement, he has footwork left in figuring out how to get out of the hoops and twists. Like how to get out of that very public break up after a few months into dating. He wasn’t going to make her out to be some bitch she’s not.
And if Jack has it his way, they won’t be breaking up and it won’t be a “fake” relationship for long either.
Because Jack Hughes is hopelessly in love with his best friend. If he has any luck, besides puck luck, she loves him too.
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notes 2.0: hello! welcome to my newest mini series, believe in me i hope you enjoyed the first part of the series. i am always open to kindly put creative criticism. i truly appreciate all of the continued support by reading, liking, & reblogging! thank you thank you!
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writing-for-life · 2 days
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Sandman Sneak Peek Analysis
There is Brief Lives in this, but you’ll miss it if you blink…
Is everyone recovering? 🤣
So we obviously got our fill of thirst traps, but I wanted to analyse the sneak peek (click to watch) a bit more closely.
Many people were commenting they only see Season of Mists and Song of Orpheus in the clip, but I don’t think that’s true. We obviously don’t know what exactly they did to the arcs and what might have changed, but I still predict that the first batch will be Season of Mists and Brief Lives (with other stuff thrown in, I wrote about it here). [I think we also saw a clip from Thermidor in the sneak peek, and that Lady Johanna Constantine was in it, but that just as an aside.]
So let’s start with stills I think are definitely from
Brief Lives
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I honestly think it’s this (they’re lighting his face from below for a campfire effect, there are candles etc):
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Edit 22/09:
We sleuthed a bit more across several platforms, and some clever people pointed out this:
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These two frames appear in different places of the sneak peak, so we can’t know for certain if they are from the same scene. It is possible though. And if they are: He is wearing his ruby on the one to the left. It’s hard to tell if it’s the same thing to the right, but it could be? If so, that would mean this could be from Song of Orpheus instead of Brief Lives.
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He does wear a clasp in Brief Lives all the way through, so that’s also possible, but again: If these shots are from the same scene, which it honestly looks like, I’m now leaning towards Song of Orpheus, and this particular scene (there’s a fire there, too):
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Plus, if you zoom in and squint really hard, he seems to be wearing something on his shoulder here, too:
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What else?
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We see Despair’s Realm. But we don’t in Season of Mists. So this is either Brief Lives, or they give us a bit of Three Septembers and a January (which I’d love tbh, but I’m not going to hold my breath).
Next:
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I think this could be Ruby’s/Wanda’s death/the fire. It’s really hard to see, but that could be Indya Moore sleeping? Let me know what you think…
Then this one:
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I bet my bottom dollar this is Suffragette City and Ishtar’s dance. Now, the bottom panel is a tricky one because in the sneak peek, it’s actually right after the shot of (presumed) Wanda, so my initial response was it’s the fire. But the curtains look exactly the same as in the one with Ishtar’s dance, plus I think the glass is also in both shots. Which makes me think they either just put those scenes randomly together in the clip despite them being separate, OR that they changed the arc a bit and pulled Wanda/Ruby and Ishtar’s dance together. Either way, we’re definitely in Brief Lives I think.
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Over to…
Season of Mists
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I cackled like a lunatic when I saw this. IYKYK, but I somehow didn’t expect them to give us that one. Hurray (or not, depending on whether you like spiders I guess 🤣)
Angels looking modern…
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Shame really, I wouldn’t have minded a more comics accurate look, but hey. Also: Is that your man Edward, @marlowe-zara ? Hard to tell from this angle, but I think it could be?
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That’s also Andre Flynn in the background (also an Angel then).
Shivering Jemmy with the balloon! 🎈 If she doesn’t dump it on Dream, I’m gonna riot!
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These ones with Lucienne are hard to place, and they could be anything, but they somehow give me stronger Season of Mists than Brief Lives vibes, although both is possible.
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I have a hunch it’s this one:
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Then there’s naturally all the obvious stuff (Cluracan, Susano-o-No-Mikoto, the family dinner etc etc), but I don’t think I have to get into those because they jump out at us straightaway.
More in the realm of
Casting
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I think that might be Ella Rumpf as Eurydice, @tickldpnk8 What do you think?
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This is definitely Wil Coban, but who he? Fae (the ears suggest so much)?
So what’s everyone thinking?
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ateliersss · 1 day
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Bandaids and Kisses
Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: One part of motherhood seemed to be patching up your reckless pup after another adventure in the wild against his parents’ wishes. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 2.885 Before the Blooming Family series
⇨ Hello, you Yautja lovers. With this, we are going back in time, before the happenings of the "Blooming Family" series. I hope you enjoy it! Comments are always appreciated!
⇨ You want to know something hilarious? A Yautja in their early twenties is the equivalent of a human in its 50's/60's, so Akail as a ten-year-old Yautja would be a minus something human baby.
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“Oh my God, Akail! Again?”
You were taken to Yautja Prime about filthy years ago, Life-mated to Mi’ytiar for forty years, and an accepted and established member of his clan for ten years now. Ten years, the same amount of time your son had walked, talked, and breathed. Ruling alongside your mate and hunting for food weren’t enough to make your contribution. Giving Mi’ytiar a pup had apparently been the only thing that changed your role among them; from an outsider (and even a simple plaything for their leader to some) to what you were now — the female counterpart of a clan leader, the Matriarch.
You had heard of several Matriarchs on Yautja Prime. Like you, they were mated to the clan leader, but unlike you, they were the superior one in their dynamic, and even above an Elder or Ancient. You wouldn’t dare to assume the same form of authority for yourself and kept to the secondary leading role just as a queen consort on Earth would. You had much more freedom and control than you could ask for, completely content in the position you were holding right now, and you never felt the need to claim the power of a true Matriarch. The fact that the Females of the Yautja race were viewed much higher in leading roles than the Males was satisfying enough.
Nonetheless, you still had particular obligations and a certain appearance to maintain. You would take part in organizing the journey of the Un-Blooded to become Blooded, ensured the civilized coexistence within the clan by taking on the role of a judge in court on Earth, approved of every newborn pup that is presented to you and deem them worthy, listened to their requests and suggestions and tried to contribute as best as you could, and even had become a beacon of generosity and kindness to the clan for advice and consolation. The list went on and on, but instead of feeling crushed by the huge amount of responsibility, you relished in it. It was an honor, truly.
Another thing that was expected of you was joining the elder Females in their den and listening to their wisdom with other younger Females. Rather than a bothersome duty you had to force yourself to attend, you absolutely loved their company.
And the den was a beautiful place you loved to spend your time in, a flawless merge between ancient architecture and the futuristic Yautja influence, round in shape and with a high dome-ish roof that was held together by a construct of pillars and beams into which hieroglyphs were carved. Fire was burning in the hollow beams and illuminated the room above the heads of everyone present.
A week of adjusting to your new life had gone by without leaving Mi’ytiar’s home — your home the second you had crossed the threshold — before he decided it was time to introduce you to his people. And the place he had brought you to first was the den of the Elders. It had been a tough start, but they were surprisingly objective. Instead of seeing you for what you were, they saw you for who you were. Even if you were among giants, you had felt welcomed.
On this day and decades later, you had joined them as well, taking your place at the fire pit and opposite the entrance on the only chair in the round room. The Matriarch had her very own seat in the den, a throne-like construction made of something that felt like a mix of stone and metal. Meanwhile, the other Females sat on white stepstones on the mossy ground around the pit.
Matheih, the Female that held the unofficially highest rank among the Elders and had been the first you felt comfortable with, was just about to discuss the matter of a Bad Blood who had come too close to the clan's borders when you noticed movement from the corner of your eye. You snapped your head to the entrance and gasped.
Your shocked exclamation had cut Matheih off, causing her to startle. The rest of the Elders either looked at you, or your son who seemed to shrink under the intense eyes of the Females.
You immediately rose from your seat, the others following you swiftly, and you raced around them to Akail who anxiously fiddled with the charm attached to his loin cloth.
One day, you had noticed the longing gaze of your pup fixed to his father’s loin cloth and the trinkets and trophies swinging on his hips. Without further ado, you tailored him something new and decorated it with a thread on which various square stones and animal teeth were strung, the thread sewn into the front of the self-made cloth to the right hip. His eyes had been so bright when you presented it to him.
“Akail, my little warrior.” You sighed when you reached your son, kneeling in front of him to be on the same level as him.
You cupped his cheeks and examined his face. There were several cuts across his face — two on his forehead, one under his right eye, and one above his left eye — and fluorescent green blood was smeared around his wounds and coated his mandibles. When you checked his dreads, running your fingers through the short tendrils, he winced.
“My sweetling, what happened?” You asked when you grabbed his hands and scanned his arms up and down.
“I follow a tochi.” He mumbled and instantly avoided your stern glare.
A lie.
Placing your pointer and middle finger under his chin, you tilted his head up so he was looking into your eyes again.
“Were you near the borders again?” You pressed on and raised an eyebrow.
Akail pulled a grimace. “Yeah.”
Another lie.
“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s dangerous?”
Akail looked down like a kicked puppy. “Sorry, Mama.”
No. No, you were not allowed to melt right now. You needed to be strong and determined to be angry at him for disobeying one of your and his father’s rules. You needed him to understand that running after an animal for the nth time and moving too far away from the clan’s land was risky without someone by his side.
But those damn puppy eyes of his, the same look his father sometimes used on you, they made you weak and yielding.
“Come on.” You softly smiled at him and stretched out a hand to him.
When you stood upright again, Akail wasted no time to grab your hand while his other arm wrapped around your leg, clinging to you. You turned to the Females, excused yourself, and apologized to Matheih for interrupting her before you and Akail left the den.
Hand in hand, you walked the short route to your home.
“Does it hurt, my sweetling?” You asked him when you entered the grounds of your home.
You whistled at Be'jaa who had started barking at the intruders, as well as the two other Hell Hounds Mi’ytiar owned, Vohtu and Gihn’tha, and signaled them that it was just you and to stand down.
“Not anymore, Mama.” Akail vehemently shook his head, putting on a brave face.
You smiled down at him and led him inside, lifted him into your arms, and carried him to the long table that stood in the center of the main room of your home. Behind it and opposite the entrance door, three other doors lead deeper into your home to adjoining rooms like your bedroom. Just like the den of the elders, this room was round with a dome roof made out of orange and light grey glass, but there was at least a meter of additional ceiling going sideways from where the dome ended and from which a ring of rock was hanging down, like a huge ring-shaped lamp circling the whole room.
Just like a routine, you placed him down on the surface, kissed the little space between his nonexistent eyebrows, immediately eliciting a merry purr from him, and got the Medicomp that was stored in one of the box-drawers under the long shelves where your mate displayed his trophies.
You placed the Medicomp next to Akail on the table, sat down, and quickly got to work crushing the plaster and melting it with the burner, adding the blue solvent and mixing it until you got a gel.
“You know the drill, baby. It’s going to hurt.” You warned him, taking one of his hands into your free one before you started applying the gel to the thin cuts on his face.
Immediately, Akail let out a sharp hiss and squeezed your hand as hard as he could. But he remained still, not wanting to ruin your already careful treatment. His eyes danced across your face, admired the color of your eyes that was so different from his, studied your smooth skin that wasn’t as rough or beige and green as his, scanned your mouth that wasn’t hidden behind tusks.
He opened his mouth, but you cut him off before he could even utter the first syllable of his question.
“Be honest with me, Akail. What happened? You don’t just get wounds like that because you followed a tochi.” You questioned him and placed the spatula to the side before you grabbed the cloth that you had added to the Medicomp and dabbed the blood away from his already healing cuts and his mandibles.
“Stumbled over a stone.” He answered in a huff.
Another lie.
“I roll down a slope in a bush.”
Lie, lie, lie.
You hummed. “The bad ones near the stonehenge? I told you to stay away from there. Those statues are unstable and you aren’t yet strong enough to withstand their weight should one fall down on you.”
“Sorry, Mama.” Akail muttered and pulled his head in as if it would help him to escape the shame your words caused him.
You were melting once again at the sincerity in his words and reassurance washed over you. You may have had no idea how to raise a child as you never had the opportunity of doing it before, but you must be doing something right when he was capable of realizing his mistakes and showing remorse. But it wasn’t the kind of remorse you were thinking of.
“It’s alright, my sweetling. And you did so well in keeping still for me. You were very brave.” You cooed and kissed first the healing cuts on his forehead before you turned to the ones at his eyes.
But he wasn’t. If he was as brave as you claimed, he would tell you that it wasn’t the thorns of the bushes overgrowing the stonehenge but the still-developing claws of the older Younglings making fun of you that had caused the wounds. Akail had tried very, very hard to ignore their teasing and provoking snides, but when one of them — the tallest of all people — started talking about how glad he was that his mother was a respectable Female of the tribe and not some foreign, lowly pet that warmed the nest of the clan leader and probably pleased any other Male on the side, little Akail saw only red.
He had jumped the older Youngling and bit down on his neck while his claws inflicted as much damage as they were capable of. But due to his smaller size and frail strength, this advantage was turned against him in the next second when he felt his face being scratched open and his back colliding with the ground when he was pushed off by the older boy.
Luckily, before the situation could escalate even more, two Blooded Yautja neared the small group and Akail used the opportunity to quickly stand up and hurry to the den of the Elders where he knew his mother was.
It hadn’t been the first time and it will probably not be the last time, but he had promised himself to always protect you from anything that could crush your beautiful heart and kind soul that had showed him unconditional love from the moment he had opened his eyes to take his first ever look at his mother. It had been blurry and unfocused, but he remembered your smile. That smile.
“Mama?” Akail asked as he watched you packing up the Medicomp.
“Mhm?” You hummed and lowered yourself on one of the chairs around the table, right in front of him.
Instantly, Akail reached for your shiny hair and started fiddling with it, feeling how soft and silky it was. When he was a toddler, he would often play with it while purring, not being able to speak yet but his sweet chatter combined with his wide eyes was enough for you to be reminded how much he was his father’s son. Both were enamored, maybe even slightly obsessed with your human features.
Akail huffed. “Why you not look like me?”
“Hm?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise at the topic of his sudden question.
“Why you look like this? Why not like me or Papa?” He pushed further and curled a lock of your hair around his pointer finger.
“My sweetling.” You cooed, lifted him up by his waist, and settled him down on your lap, his legs dangling from each side of your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled his face into your chest close to your throat. “Do you remember the bedtime stories I sometimes tell you?”
You only felt vibrations against your skin and you took that as an answer, a cue to continue, “When I was little like you, your grandmama sat next to my bed and told me the same ones.”
Akail pulled his face from your chest and lifted his head to look up at you. “Grandmama?”
I nod. “Yeah. Mama’s mama.” You cupped his little face and peppered it with kisses. “Those stories are from the place I was born. Earth.”
“Are there more looking like you?”
“Yes. Many like me. Earth is similar to home. There are villages all over the planet and they speak different tongues, too. They have a clan leader called a major or a president and they have warriors, but also normal people who work jobs or go to school.”
“What is job?” Akail asked curiously and cocked his head to the side.
“A job is something oomans do to earn a living, to build a life. It is a little different here. For example, with a job you can earn money and buy food, but here, you just go into the forest and hunt. With a job, you can also build a house, but here, you just do it yourself with resources this planet has to offer.” You explained with a soft smile.
“What a ooman?”
“It’s what I am, my little warrior. Mama is ooman, a human. That’s why I look so different than you or your Papa.”
“But why I don’t look more like you?” Akail asked and his adorable face got even more precious when he pulled it into a frown.
You hummed as if you were in thought before you put on a bright grin and started to tickle his sides. “Because I wanted someone unique and extraordinary, and I hoped for someone who is as handsome and strong and chivalrous as your Papa. And speaking of your Papa, he was determined to have a pup like you, my sweetling.”
Mi’ytiar had been very determined indeed that his DNA took root inside you. It also hadn’t been the only thing that had completely dominated you.
“I know I’m not as big and strong and pretty as the other mothers-“
“You more pretty!”
“What?” You asked with raised eyebrows at his offended tone.
“You more pretty! More pretty than other mothers, more pretty than other Females! Say you more pretty!” Akail protested, immediately standing up for you even against your own words.
You had to swallow your emotions during his short rant. This boy had your heart, so precious and pure, and your emotional intelligence, already developed so far for his young age. You had no idea you were able to create something so beautiful and special.
“I’m more pretty.” You repeated his words with a smile, petting the top of his head, and kissed his forehead one, two, three times. “Why don’t you go and look for Papa, hm? I bet he loves to teach you a little something about leadership.”
Akail climbed down from your lap with a click of his mandibles and was already running out of your home. You had followed him, a little slower than the hazardous speed of his, and leaned with your shoulder against the entrance as you watched him in amusement.
You had hated the thought of becoming a mother. You had hated the thought of how children would affect your health and body. You had hated the thought of giving up your freedom for them. You had hated the thought of limiting your own life to adapt to theirs. You had hated the thought of abandoning every hope you had felt, every plan you had made, and every dream you had envisioned to tend to each of their needs.
God, never had you been happier to be wrong.
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Masterlist: here
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Tag List
@rorrika, @lialiwasneverseen, @lil-lilacwitch, @purplekitten30, @eternalmoonshineofahopelessfan,
@ladygrimmx, @blurpleuni-squid, @zaky-ller, @chrishy973, @devilslittlehelper,
@freyablack90
⇨ Want to join the tag list?
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balkanradfem · 2 days
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So, it's chestnut foraging season again! And I'm having some moral struggles about it. Let's discuss.
Few years back, while roaming the forest, I found an excellent chestnut foraging stuff; it was so good I found I could gather 10 kg of chestnuts a day if I appeared there at the brink of dawn. I gifted a lot of chestnuts to the plant lady, who was impressed, and asked me to show her where I found them. I took her to the spot, and she said 'we could sell these. I can put out an add'. And that sounded daunting, but I said okay!
At first she was doing the administrative part of work, finding customers and managing the communications, and I was collecting and delivering chestnuts, but then she grew tired of it, so I took over completely, made my own add and was able to sell them just fine.
Then, the market prices of all food, including chestnuts, rose high up, as in, doubled. The plant lady urged me to up the price of my chestnuts, because they were now dirt cheap in comparison to anything else on the market, and I thought about it, and decided, no. I hate rising in prices, this little chestnut thing is the only price I can control, and I can decide for it to stay the same. It was a bit insane business-wise, because I am impoverished, but I am not letting poverty control my moral standing! The price stayed the same.
The year after, prices rose again, and I still remained stubborn, and the plant lady was trying to convince me that I am not doing a good deed; chestnuts are a luxury item, they're not being bought by people in poverty who would benefit from cheap food, what I'm doing is only going to attract resellers and other people will capitalize on my work. To this I said, well, I'm refusing to sell any quantity over 10kg to a single person, so they won't be able to capitalize that much. And I knew people who I was taking the chestnuts to were just taking them home to their families, or even asked me to split them in multiple bags to give to their neighbours and cousins. So I kept the price low.
This year, I'm sickly, having financial issues that are worse than before, still having pain in my arm and can't walk for long, and I thought, ugh. Maybe I should up the prices a little and it would make my life slightly easier. It would still be the cheapest thing on the market but I'd be less stressed. But then I went into the forest, and I forgot all of my struggles. It felt so good to hunt around for the first fallen chestnuts. I climbed a hill. I discovered a new secret spot. I found a chicken-of-the-woods mushroom. I saw a salamander. Tiniest frog ever was letting me see her. And I got a message from someone who bought chestnuts from me last year, asking if I had them again. And I didn't have whatever it takes to tell this person I've upped the price. I was like 'yeah I can get the chestnuts to you. They still cost the same amount'.
So then I had to tell the plant lady my decision, and she is SO disappointed. Her vibe was like 'you are putting yourself in situation where only resellers will benefit from this!' and I'm laughing like, don't worry about it, I'm at peace with my decision. But now I feel bad because she thinks I'm dumb T_T.
And I don't know what the right decision is. I hate capitalism, I hate the idea that the price of something can change even though it's the same item, it hasn't changed, it isn't worth more, it doesn't cost me more to gather it, so just because the state of economy is worse, and the world is going to shit, now it's going to cost more? But it is also ridiculous that on the market, the price of the chestnuts is not only double, but 4 times of what I sell them for. It feels so silly! How are people selling them for such a high price? But from their standpoint, it is me who is silly, for giving them away so cheaply.
So I'm going to see what is your collective opinion! I'm curious.
oh and btw what I'm doing is 100% illegal, we're discussing the morality of me doing illegal black market shit. Other foragers are doing it illegally too so we're equals.
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sitp-recs · 1 day
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Part II: table for two
Following my list featuring the sea (now with a lil banner cause I’m getting in the reccing zone again baby!!!!), I thought I’d make this a series called “fic as a sensory delight” and continue the trend with good old Drarry domesticity walking hand in hand with some food porn appreciation. Who knew that Drarry living their best life while enjoying tasty treats could be so personal? These fics feel like a comfort meal when life gets too crazy and provide a delicious sensory experience. From cottagecore to road trips, found family, case fic, established relationship and even kinky delights - this list has a bit of everything and features food as a main character either bringing Drarry together, healing past traumas, helping them connect with their heritage or simply playing as a love language. I hope these fics bring you as much comfort, joy and healing as they brought me. Happy weekend!
🥘 Breakfast by @moonflower-rose (E, 3k)
Breakfast is Harry's favorite part of the day.
🥘 Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3k)
In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.
🥘 Salt and Sauce by onbeinganangel (T, 3k)
Sure, of course he knows how you take your tea. But does he know your chippy order?
🥘 Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (G, 4k)
Harry’s life, and love, in food.
🥘 Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds You by InnerLilith (E, 11k)
In which Harry takes Draco out for Eritrean food, and Draco has a severe obsession with Harry’s hands. Smut ensues.
🥘 Harry Potter and the Showstopper of Doom by @doubleappled (M, 11k)
In which Harry’s an amateur baker, Draco wants him to go on the Great British Bake-Off, Petunia never misses an episode, Sue is a witch, Paul Hollywood is Paul Hollywood, and everyone eats a lot — like a whole lot — of baked goods.
🥘 Poppiholla by @moonflower-rose (M, 13k)
Harry had accepted that he would pine silently for Malfoy forever, but one, humid summer might change that.
🥘 Connecting Lines, Connecting Crimes by @sleepstxtic (M, 15k)
“Hello, Harry,” Draco said. He was wearing a black turtleneck under a long grey overcoat, and he was already flushed with sweat. His hair was tied into a knot; it was longer than I remembered. He was older than I remembered. There were lines around his eyes, and I wondered if they were from laughing or frowning. “Hello,” I managed. “You must be with the British Ministry?’ He nodded. I thought I might faint.
🥘 Bridges by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 16k)
Harry and Draco are on a trip to Budapest to help with Kingsley's re-election, but that's the boring bit. More interesting: Harry Potter is changing his Tinder preferences to include men. Also interesting: Harry's spending more time with Draco Malfoy than he ever has, wandering around the city. And Harry doesn't hate it. The city's pretty gorgeous too.
🥘 Sourdough by @academicdisasterfic (M, 17k)
Draco writes romance novels and doesn't leave his apartment much. Harry bakes bread and sells it to Draco. Draco is quite weird. Harry might like that.
🥘 Preserving Lemons by @saintgarbanzo, @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (E, 17k)
Harry is cooking food he couldn't care less about; Draco is making art he couldn't care more about. A story about kebabs, miniskirts and the way preservation can transform a lemon.
🥘 Passion Cake by @icmezzo (T, 19k)
It’s all about desire. (Harry orders a magically enhanced cake from a chic London bakery, and from there it all goes to hell in a cake tin. Also, will someone please tell Harry what Passion Cake is?)
🥘 Knead by laughingd0g (E, 83k)
This is not a story about Harry renovating Grimmauld Place. This is a story about coffee shops and brewpubs, about Ginny and Luna on a farm with creatures, about magical Oregon, coastal road trips, flying, friendship, and Draco Malfoy's lean arms.
🥘 Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)
Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.
🥘 Make This Leap by @oflights (M, 118k)
Harry owns a struggling restaurant which is running out of money, and his Head Chef has just handed in notice. He's at a bit of a loss as to what to do until Narcissa Malfoy presents an obvious solution: bring in Draco Malfoy as Chef and part owner. Harry does.
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Last post you talked about your ideal version of canon, I was wondering could you share it with us? If not, that's ok
Oh man, I could go on about my dream version of canon for ages! I've talked about various aspects of it on here with stuff like my "sugar" posts on Nino and Alya, but the broad strokes are:
Serialized story where it's basically one large narrative told in chunks
A true teams setup where Adrien, Marinette, Alya, and Nino feel like this amazing, tight friend group who grows into a found family as they get older, giving platonic and romantic love more equal billing
No guardian order, just have it be a single-person role that gets passed on from person to person
Kagami and Luka in supporting roles that have nothing to do with being love interests
Sympathetic Gabriel who feels like a truly tragic figure, but who does NOT get redeemed
Emilie gets an actual character
No sentinonsense
Revised miracle box that is way smaller and that has strong lore
The Agreste's aquiring the miraculous is far more morally complex, makes sense, and was not done for explicitly selfish reasons
Reverse the love square right from the start and never have the crushes flip
I've talked about all of these things on here, but the one thing that I've only briefly touched on is my love of a reverse square setup. I am passionate about that one, so let's take a moment to talk about why since it's probably going to be the most interesting to read.
I don't hate the canon setup for the crushes, but also I don't think that they're the ideal crushes. When it comes to romance stories, you want to design your love interests around each other. You want them to feel special and like they bring something unique to the table. Canon doesn't really give us that. There's nothing all that special about Adrien that makes him feel like the person that Marinette would be drawn to above all others. Same goes for Chat Noir and Ladybug, but we'll get to them in a second.
What is Marinette's biggest struggle? Her role as Ladybug.
Who is her main support in that role for most of the show? Chat Noir.
Who is her main support on the civilian side even before the reveal? Alya.
So why is Marinette's crush on Adrien and not Chat Noir? I don't know. It's the lesser setup by far and that goes beyond just the logic elements of who it makes the most sense for her to fall in love with. A lot of Marinette's worst behavior actually feels justified in a reverse crush setup, allowing you to write her without major changes to her character.
For example, Marinette keeping a chest of gifts for Adrien is kind of pathetic. She's friends with Adrien and she gives her friends gifts all the time, why can't she give him gifts, too? Reverse the crushes and suddenly this behavior makes perfect sense. Marinette isn't storing up gifts because of overblown fears of rejection. She's storing up gifts for legitimate fears about how her partner will explain these random gifts, thereby risking his identity, meaning that she has a sold argument for waiting until the time is right (post reveal) to give them to him.
There's also the legitimate fear that confessing her love could ruin their dynamic and put Paris at risk. Keeping her feelings to herself is now an act of self-sacrifice and not just an act of nerves. Basically everything about Marinette's hesitance just makes so much more sense if it's on the hero side.
But what about Adrien? How does this fix him?
I love the idea of our male romantic lead falling for our female lead because she's bold and brave, but it honestly doesn't fit Adrien's character. He is surrounded by powerful, confrontational women. Nathalie, Chloe, Kagami, Amilie, Audrey, and Tomoe are all no-nonsense women who get what they want. This means that Ladybug doesn't bring something unique to his life. She fits the standard mold. Adrien falling in love with her after she talks down Hawkmoth doesn't feel like the right choice for his character because it doesn't feel like something he'd be wildly impressed by.
Meanwhile, Marinette is shown to be a generally wonderful friend. She cares about others and will do what she can to make them feel welcome and accepted. That's a much more unique thing for Adrien to experience. Think about the umbrella scenes and imagine if it was Marinette apologizing. Marinette owning that she treated him poorly and asking his forgiveness. How often do you think Adrien gets moments like that? Doesn't it make more sense for something like that to make his heart flutter?
We see Marinette doing things like making banners to celebrate her friends (Timebreaker) and making sure everyone feels included (Reflekta). Imagine her giving Adrien that kind of treatment because it's just who Marinette is. She shows up to his fencing matches to cheer him on. Brings him his favorite snacks as a treat just because, surrounding this poor boy in honest, genuine love and support. Add in respect, too, and he'd be a goner because those are the things that he's not getting anywhere else! The things that make Marinette unique.
This brings us to our new civilian dynamic. In canon, it's Marinette failing to confess in ever more spectacular ways as Alya tries and fails to help. In a reverse crush setup where everyone is friends without gender barriers, it's things like Adrien coming up with his canon confessions and then watching Alya and Nino react with genuine horror because, dude, you're going to give her a panic attack! No! Bad kitty! Stop that! No confessions until you come up with a plan that we approve of and read at least five books of dating advice because holy shit did homeschooling do you dirty in this area!
Then, while Adrien is working to learn how dating works, he learns that Marinette is in love with Chat Noir and, oh no! He thinks she's into his public persona, totally unaware that she knows the real Chat Noir and loves his dorky self. So he tries to emulate his sexy alter ego while Nino and Alya suffer and Marinette is just generally confused because she doesn't think of Chat Noir like that, so she doesn't even notice what Adrien is doing.
This also adds a nice mitigating factor to Adrien's unwillingness to give up even though it's pretty clear that Marinette isn't interested in his civilian self. If he knows that she loves him, then his persistence is less concerning and more comedic. It's not that he can't take a no, it's that he honestly knows with 100% certainty that the answer is NOT no because she's told him that to his face. He just needs her to realize that the guy she's in love with is right here, ready and willing!
The potential for comedy is just so much more broad and so much less mean spirited because Marinette has none of Adrien's reserved nature, so her friends would totally know about her massive "celebrity crush". Adrien comes over for school projects and just stares longingly at her Chat Noir posters, wishing he could tell her his secret, but knowing that he can't.
In my world, that is so much more fun than canon's setup where Marinette has no reason to hope. I also wouldn't draw the crushes out anywhere near as long as canon did. I like getting couples together in the mid-game. It's a nice early plot to hook you in, but defeating the villain is the end game, so we don't need to draw the romance out that long. Romance isn't that special. It's not all that different from an arc about two characters becoming friends.
That's far from the only major change I'd make to shape canon into my ideal version, but it is the probably the change that I love the most. It's also the change that requires the least context to explain, so there you go!
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abbysimsfun · 2 days
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Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 49 (Time to Move In Together?)
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As autumn fell over Simlandia and turned the trees to vibrant shades of orange and red, Conrad stayed the weekend with Heather and her son in Brindleton Bay. He'd received word on his transfer but didn't mention it all weekend, afraid she still wasn't ready.
While they lazed in bed enjoying the quiet before Ash woke upstairs, he carefully broached his news with Heather on Sunday morning.
"My captain called me in on Friday," he said. "She said a job opened up at Brindleton PD, but it's a demotion. They asked me to start as a beat cop to get used to the area."
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"You're probably ten times more experienced than any detectives in Brindleton Bay," argued Heather. "This place can't possibly have more crime than San Myshuno!"
They sat up, continuing their conversation on the edge of the bed. "Every other detective has more experience with the town than me, so it probably evens out," he countered. "I don't mind earning my stripes here if we're together...Are you ready to move in?"
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There was a slight break in his voice. A real fear he'd scare her off.
Her palms itched. "Can I have a few days to think about it? Maybe make sure Ash is ready?"
Conrad offered a gentle smile. "Of course." He knew it was no small thing to commit to a single mother and her son, and Heather guarded her heart more than most.
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He returned to San Myshuno after breakfast, and River's words played like a broken record in Heather's mind. He's your Cassandra. Perfect for you.
She sat down with her son to talk about Conrad, though he was still too young to understand the concept of moving in. "How would you feel if Conrad was here with us all the time? It wouldn't be just us and the cats, anymore. Conrad and Gord would be here, too."
"I like Conerd!" he beamed. "He stay my room?"
Heather smiled. "No, he'd stay in my room. With me."
"You share bed. I share toys!"
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"So you're okay with Conrad and Gord moving in with us?"
"Conerd fun, Mommy. Gord soft! They moving now?"
"Not quite today, but soon."
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Conrad was at the gym when his phone rang that afternoon. He stopped his workout when he saw Heather's name on the call display.
"I love you," she blurted awkwardly as soon as he'd said hello. "I'm sorry to just say it like that, but I do. And you should know because I'm ready. I want you to move in with me and Ash." She started talking a mile a minute to hide her nerves, in case he'd changed his mind since that morning. "I don't know how much notice you need to give or how much stuff you'll want to move, but we could probably get my family to-"
"Heather? Hey, Heather. I love you, too. It's going to be great."
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Once Heather took the leap to voice her true feelings, her nerves evaporated. As she hung up, her heart brimmed with contentment. ->
<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start
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gilverrwrites · 2 days
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STOP WAIT THE TIM DRAKE WITH SIONIS!READER THAT WAS AMAZING
love academic rivals to lovers frfr
anyway but tim is also canonically a high school drop out so sionis!reader finishing school without him (technically dropped out when bruce went missing) 💀 idk why but with roman hating the wayne clan so much, I could see it being kept secret.
like a cute little forbidden fruit/secret relationship. robin & the daughter of the most notorious crime lord in the city?? jeez and you wanna ask why bruce/roman are paranoid /hj
but it's them sneaking around and then tim obviously leaves for his search for batman, dropping out of school, and it leaves sionis!reader all alone.
and then tim comes back!! and bruce is back but bruce doesn't really matter to them(reader), because tim left without a word, without a goodbye, and now he's back and I can imagine all the changes between that happened in that year he was too, the angst of him coming back.
like, would they try to find tim? would they try to go to wayne manor and figure out what the hell happened? I feel like it opens the door to possibilities between them
Hang in there, this is a real rambley ramble.
Ngl, I was picturing it for when he went to Ivy (which he also dropped out of lmao), and I like the idea of them being upfront about it for the comedy/reluctant acceptance angle, but there is still the potential for drama. However, I can see the appeal of them keeping it totally secret too (I'm gonna talk about that later in the post).
For now, heres my vision: You’re Romans favourite kid, his perfect lil angel child, the only one who wants anything to do with him so he dotes on you (to the extent that Roman can dote on anyone) and you go to him one day like; “I get perfect grades, I never miss curfew, I help with the family business, I never ask you for anything, PLEASE accept my boyfriend.” And at first `Roman’s just like… “No.”
Queue the “But Daddy I love him!” tantrum.
Unlike with Jason, Roman has never had any strong feelings toward Tim other than a general distaste cause of the Wayne association, so eventually he tries to come around, but it’s just awkward, and Tim hates it too cause he know your dad is Black Mask, and he can’t do anything without risking being exposed as Red Robin or upsetting you by causing a scene/fight. Is it to much to ask for the two most important men in your life to get along for one dinner? Please?
So, every time they meet the vibes are just off. However, they’re both trying really hard to get along cause they love you.
One night Tim unintentionally catches Black Mask red-handed and he can’t not do his job. The whole time they're fighting, Tim has this whole internal monologue going on about whether he should let Roman off with a warning for your sake, but eventually he’s like WWBD?
So, he hands Roman over to the authorities and the next day he sees you and your bawling! Inconsolable! Your dad is going to prison, your life is ruined. You’re also a bit of drama queen but validly tbh, what will this do for your social standings? Your college applications? Your career aspirations? Fuck Red Robin, you hate that guy!
You were raised by Roman Sionis, of course your inherited at least a little of his melodromatic genes.
Even though you're distressed Tim can’t keep from being like ‘You're mad at the wrong person here! Red Robin is the good guy! You're dad is the criminal, he wouldn't have been arrested if he wasn't a bad person! Who does bad things! He needs to face justice!”
It becomes a massive-ass argument until you’re like “Why can’t you be normal about this? I love my dad and this is going to have a huge effect on my life, why can’t you just be upset for me?”
Tim doesn’t have an answer cause the answer is "I'm Red Robin" but fuck that guy, right? The whole issue goes unresolved.
Or maybe he does snap and tell you the truth but that just makes things worse! "You're my boyfriend and you arrested my father! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?"
When you visit him at Blackgate, your father is quietly elated by the break up, he doesn’t say as much. He plays the concerned father, offers you comfort. He reminds you that when he killed lost his parents, it started a new age of loyalty amonst the Sionis clan. As long as you're good to your family (him), it will be good to you. Oh, and btw, he needs you to handle a few things while he's gone. Don't worry, your family pisses money, he'll be out of here in no time but this stuff is important and time sensitive, and he needs you to keep it on the down low.
The next time you see Tim, he’s Red Robin and you’re the one he catches in the act.
Also, Tim telling that Bat-Fam “So yeah, I’m seeing someone new, it’s Y/N Sionis.” And everyone looks at Steph for a second, then back to Tim and is like “Dude! Get a new type!”
Also also, you visit the Wayne family for the first time, and after growing up drilled to hate these people you’re lowkey so nervous. You’re expecting them to hate you, because you learned nothing from presuming the same thing about Tim. The youngest one is definitely scary, and the butler must be convinced you’re gonna steal something because he will not allow you to be left alone (he’s remembering teenage Roman hanging out with teenage Bruce and being the worst), but otherwise everyone is actually kinda chill. Maybe a bit overly polite but not unpleasant.
But I can totally see the appeal of them keeping it totally secret too. Especially if Tim tells you about being Red Robin. How it might force you to come to terms with your morality by enabling your father/not holding him accountable. Major existential crisis material.
Of if he doesn’t tell you, the angst of your boyfriend just up and leaving without a word, not responding to your calls, texts, emails.
When he does come back you’ve ‘moved on’. Or you thought you had until you saw him again. But after he left you high and dry you’re fuming, and won’t allow him to just walk skate back into your life.
Tim pining after you while you’re excelling in your college/job pursuit. You keep catching glimpses of Red Robin while you’re out on dates or visiting your dad. Tim tells himself he’s just vetting your new boyfriends or ensuring your dad isn’t up to no good. But really its because he’s missed you and doesn’t know how to make up for cutting you out of his life.
He also notices how you never bring your dates home. How you still bury yourself in his old hoodie at night. How you haven’t finished binge watching that show the two of you were working on together. Those little nuggets of hope are what keeps him hanging on.
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karioke13 · 24 hours
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My Transformers One thoughts!!!
✨Spoiler free✨
Holy moly this movie was just so…WOW!!! Before I start with my thoughts, I would like for y’all to know that I’ve never been this hyped for a movie in a long time! I was so excited I was shaking from excitement that my family kept asking if I was okay! 😂
Ok now to my thoughts. First off, I just want to mention how good the voice acting was. Chris Hemsworth did such a phenomenal job as Orion Pax, later Optimus Prime. Whenever his character gave a speech, I was crying because of how amazing and inspiring it was. And Orion in general was just so adorable and fun to watch! Now Brians voice acting was spine chilling! His decent from good friend who sticks to protocols to becoming the revenge seeking Megatron just flowed ever so nicely! The writers did an incredible job with his villain arc. Plus, Brians voice acting just made it even more incredible! And Michael Keegan as Bumblebee was ABSOLUTELY HILARIOUS! My mom loved him she thought he was so funny! He was kinda, sweet and always willing to help his friends. The chemistry that Optimus and Elita have with each other was *chefs kiss* you can tell she really cared for him throughout the whole movie! Everyone’s chemistry with each other was amazing!!! Every single character had such well done chemistry with the others, showing the good writing in this movie!
Now the music and animation, was OFF THE CHARTS. They both flowed so well together. The music made me feel so teary eyed because of how beautiful was! It made you really feel in the moment. And the animation was absolutely STUNNING! Seriously yall, shoutout to all the animators for doing such an amazing job with the animation style. It was just so incredible. So if you are really into animation and/or music definitely check this movie out!!
And finally the plot in this film. I swear this plot is absolutely heartbreaking in this movie. So many moments that make you feel. The friendship bond between Orion Pax and D-16 to the long known enemies Optimus Prime and Megatron was simply so sad to watch. And it really makes you feel hooked to the story watching D-16 going through his good guy to bad guy transformation. It really makes you feel for the guy. There were also so many dark moments too which was pretty shocking but honestly pretty valid for the story and I like how they didn’t try to shy away from all that. The writers really embraced it, show the horrors and the reality of war, corruption and betrayal. Honestly, I haven’t been this hooked on a plot for a movie in a long long time!
I had so much fun watching this movie. It made me feel like a little kid again, getting excited about a movie and what will happen and why the characters change. Seriously shoutout to everyone person who worked in this movie yall did an amazing job! I’m really considering watching this movie because of how good this movie was. 10/10 movie rating for me. I definitely recommend yall to watch this amazing movie, it has such amazing characters as well as a really good lesson from this movie! I can’t wait for more of this Transformers story! I had a really good time! 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡
Also I brought my Optimus Prime plushie and my Bumblebee funko pop, along with my new Transformers One shirt to the movies with me! And I also took some pictures during the movie as well! (No spoilers i promise!!) Have a look! 🤗
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unabashegirl · 1 day
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Different 8 | College HS
Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.
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Author's note: Hiii, here is a new chapter of Different. I hope you enjoy!
check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all 25 chapters, various one shots and much more :)
if you would like to submit request for the next one shot. leave them here x :)
masterlist
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Harry watched her as she slid out of the car. She never really jumped out or stepped off because of her height difference. Her Jeep was too elevated off the ground. He found it adorable. She locked and closed the door before trotting to him and grabbing his hand.
Harry noticed how she pulled on the sleeves of her shirt and how she buttoned up. He could see that she was nervous, and it was a nice change. “Do I look okay?” she whispered as they entered the dorm. “I should have worn makeup,” she said under her breath.
“You look stunning. Stop worrying,” Harry reassured her, nudging her hand away from her hair. “They don’t bite. I promise,” he whispered as he pulled her toward the foyer of the dorm.
“Wait, Harry!” she stopped him, suddenly very concerned and anxious. She wanted to make a good first impression, and Harry had barely spoken about his parents. Therefore, Y/N didn’t have the slightest idea of how to approach them. “What do I say?”
“Just be you.” She inhaled deeply in an attempt to calm her heart rate. Y/N also felt a bit uncomfortable being in the dorm. She felt like it was something prohibited, even though it wasn’t.
“Mum,” Harry called out as they walked up to a small sitting area by the fireplace. The first thing Y/N noticed was how nicely they were both dressed. She could see the resemblance. Y/N could see where Harry had gotten his luscious head of hair, but he definitely had his mother’s eyes.
Harry’s dad got up as soon as he noticed them. He was just as tall as Harry. They looked like printed copies, except he had salt-and-pepper hair.
“This is Y/N,” Harry introduced her as she nervously leaned forward and stretched out a hand.
Harry’s dad cheekily winked at his son, then shifted his attention back to Y/N.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Styles,” she said as soon as he shook her hand.
“It’s nice to finally put a face to your name. We’ve heard lots about you,” he said. “Although, he has been very secretive about you.” Y/N giggled and glanced at Harry for a second. It was true—he had only mentioned very surface-level things about her.
“You are gorgeous,” Mrs. Styles said before anyone else could say something. “Hello,” she breathed, stretching her hand out for Y/N, which she gracefully took without any hesitation.
“Good evening, Mrs. Styles.” Harry stood back and watched the most important women in his life interact with one another.
“Please call me Anne,” she insisted, taking the stress and tension off Y/N. “Now, where is this wonderful café that you keep talking about?”
“It’s just a few blocks away. Is that alright?” Harry threw an arm over his mother’s shoulders as he guided her out of the dorm and toward another exit.
“It’s fine, as long as it has some decent food.” Harry stretched out his other hand for Y/N to take when he noticed that she was quietly drifting behind.
Y/N quietly figured out where he was taking them. It was a cute, cozy café that served all types of food, only a couple of blocks away from school.
“What would you like?” Harry asked her as they finally arrived at the cute coffee shop.
“Coffee, please,” she shyly said as the three stared at her. “Would you like some help?” she asked, slowly rising from her seat.
“No need to,” Harry smiled at her before going up to order.
The family ordered coffee for everyone and a few of everything. They had been traveling most of the day, which was why they were starving.
The conversation naturally started flowing, with Mr. Styles asking Y/N what her parents did for a living, where she lived, and what she was studying. Harry’s mother was too entertained eating a chocolate croissant to interrupt but eventually joined in.
They talked about America and how different it was from England. Mrs. Styles also made sure to openly invite Y/N to England. The conversation eventually drifted to the two women as they took charge, sharing different anecdotes and jokes. Harry and his father sat back, only chiming in here and there.
Harry didn’t mind remaining silent as it gave him the opportunity to watch her and the way she expressed herself. It was mesmerizing how she gesticulated and emphasized her points using her hands.
“I’m sure your parents come to visit all the time. How lucky to live so close to you. I wish I could see my Harry that often,” Mrs. Styles said, tearing up a little. They had just arrived, but she already missed him. Y/N tensed up at the mention of her parents and couldn’t help feeling jealous that Harry had loving parents always willing to travel to see him.
Harry looked up at his mom and slightly shook his head, hinting that parents were a touchy subject for Y/N. Mrs. Styles instantly caught on and quickly moved on.
“This has been lovely, but unfortunately, I have to get going. I have an early class tomorrow,” Y/N apologized, remembering that she still had to make herself some lunch and do laundry.
“Of course! Thank you for joining us, Y/N. I’m so happy to finally meet you,” Mrs. Styles said, pulling her into a hug. “Please come visit.”
“Thank you for having me. I hope to see you both soon, and I hope you enjoy your stay,” Y/N said as she hugged Mr. Styles too.
“I’ll be back in a few,” Harry said to them before following after her. “Hey,” he called out to her and stopped her. “Thank you for coming. You were so sweet.”
“I hope they like me,” she whispered, now nervous to know what impression they had of her.
Harry smiled and kissed her, sending a chill down her back.
“I’m sure they do,” he reassured her, pushing a strand of hair back after it had gone rogue. “Why are you pouting?” Harry tilted his head, waiting for an explanation. He ran his fingers across her untucked lip, holding back his desire to bite it.
Harry chuckled and kissed her softly, taking his time. His hands itched with the desire to touch her.
“I have to go,” she exhaled loudly as she gently pulled away.
“Drive safe,” he called out to her. “Text me when you get home.” She turned and smiled at him before continuing to walk. He waited until she had disappeared before heading back inside. “What do you think?” he asked, sitting down beside his mother.
“She’s really sweet. I like her,” Harry smiled back at his mother. “Is she officially your girlfriend?”
“Yes,” Harry lied, not wanting to worry them or let them think that things were complicated.
“Good,” Mr. Styles smiled as they left the café. Harry insisted on accompanying his parents to the hotel before going back to the dorm.
He texted her as soon as he got back to his room, ending the day with a golden brooch.
Thank you for today. I am so lucky to have you. Sweet dreams.
Monday came around like every other day. Harry rushed around his dorm room, trying to get everything ready for class since he had woken up relatively late.
He had lunch with Sarah, who confessed her initial annoyance towards Y/N. Things had changed for her since the weekend.
In the afternoon, Harry had an organic chemistry class on the other side of campus. A class that he had tried his best not to dislike, but it had been impossible lately, especially since the professor always seemed angry and dull.
He sat by the window, which allowed him to get a bit distracted and not fall asleep as easily. As expected, the professor walked in with his permanent frown. He looked like he hated breathing the same air as them. He immediately directed them to their books and handed out a worksheet for people to develop in pairs.
Harry worked on it quickly, not wanting to have to take it home. However, he was interrupted by honking. His attention drifted to the source of it. He did a double-take, not believing his eyes.
“Do you see her?” Harry nudged Ganesh, with whom he was paired. Ganesh chuckled and shook his head at Harry.
“You are one lucky son of a bitch, Harry Styles,” Ganesh responded as they both looked over at her.
She had parked across the street under a tree. Y/N waved and motioned for him to come out.
“What are you still doing here?” Ganesh asked. “Go live a little,” he insisted.
Harry smiled to himself as he considered every possible outcome of not attending class. He quickly threw everything into his backpack and waited until the professor turned to look at his laptop to sneak out.
“What are you doing here?” he laughed, his arms wide open. “Wait, how do you know my schedule?”
“Too many questions! Get in!”
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therealcocoshady · 2 days
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https://www.tumblr.com/therealcocoshady/761142596922982400/fun-fact-in-her-book-debbie-nelson-eminems
Coming to ask what is amy story now I need to know
Ok, so it's actually something Debbie Nelson (his mom) wrote about in her book (chapter 14). Basically, Eminem & Kim had an on and off relationship for years, breaking up before getting back together, before breaking up again... Apparently, at some point, he dated someone else. A girl named Amy, who was apparently very sweet and worked with him at Gilbert's Lodge. Apparently, it didn't prevent our man to keep seeing Kim and, eventually, she ended up pregnant. It seems like, after learning that Kim was expecting, he dumped Amy. Here is a screenshot of the passage :
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Obviously, that whole book is to be taken with a grain of salt. It was written by his mother, in the midst of their legal feud. It does paint Kim in a very negative light and some passages scream "I am a boy mom and I have attachment issues with my son".
That being said, I do believe that Amy story to be plausible. And most importantly : it would make one hell of a fanfiction idea. Absolutely angsty and dramatic and, boy, do I love it already ! ❤️.
Picture this : it's the 90s, you're working at a restaurant and dating Marshall Mathers. You are very smitten with him and he makes you really happy. The two of you are very close and he confides a lot in you, about his family issues, the drama with his ex. He is trying to make it as a rapper and you supper him. You think he is the love of your life and that, one day, the two of you will make it. He promises that, when he makes it, he will marry you and take care of you, and you won't have to wait on tables and deal with rude customers ever again. But one day, out of the blue, he breaks up with you without so much as an explanation. You try to deal with the heartbreak until, weeks later, you see him with his ex, who is noticeably pregnant. Before he can offer an explanation or apology, you walk away, visibly heartbroken. You decide to leave town, determined to start fresh somewhere else. You make a life for yourself and so does he. Years after the breakup, you see him on TV, promoting his Slim Shady LP. You knew he'd make it. You always believed in him and you wish you could say you're happy for him but you're not. You're bitter over your first love, who took your virginity, cheated on you and broke your heart. For almost a decade, you try to escape him, changing channels and stations every time Eminem is mentioned. It's not ideal but you make it work. You almost manage to heal and forget about him. Almost. Until, one night, Marshall fucking Mathers knocks on your door.
What do you think ? Should I give it a go ?
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blathersthecat · 2 days
Text
AU where Ford is a paranormal investigator who's specifically obsessed with the ghost side of things. He'd seen plenty of the average ghost but he wanted to know how their plane works and if there's a way to bridge the gap.
Ford at some point finds the writings in the cave as usual and doesn't know he summoned a straight up demon. Bill actually died with the rest of his people in his dimension, but while the others either moved on or became ghosts (that dwell inside Bill's mind), Bill became a demon instead.
Ford of course, eventually tries to stop making the bridge and gets stuck in the other plane and Stan (with Fiddleford in this) tries to bring him back to the land of the living.
Important context for the next line: Fiddleford's gun is different in this AU. It isn't much of a memory gun but makes the target be more inclined to ignore or become straight up blind to paranormal activity. So it's instead just called the Paranormal Eraser.
The Eraser, when used on Stan's mind, erased the paranormal activity in it, which Bill was, entirely. It was not made to be used at such a high power though (enough power to erase a literal demon) so this is what caused the memory loss because of all it erased.
Fiddleford has a lot changed in this AU so it's all below with some other lore:
- Fiddleford saw Bill in his demon form and heard screams of the dead when he saw across the bridge.
- Besides what happened to Stan, no one ever had the memory side effect like in the show. In this AU, Fiddleford stays fairly sane and doesn't ever start a cult since he regrets what he did pretty quickly after he realizes the paranormal can still mess with him but now he just won't know when they are and that terrifies him.
It's like seeing a ton of roaches in your room and putting on a blindfold so they won't stress you out, but obviously, you know they're still there and it makes it worse - IDK HOW ELSE TO EXPLAIN IT LMAO
- Fiddleford goes back to the shack to try to tell Ford frantically about his grave mistake. But he meets Stan instead. He starts to help Stan with the bridge out of guilt that Ford got taken by this awful stuff in his absence. He blames himself and thinks that Ford would've been okay if only if he stayed.
- Fiddleford has soo much anxiety when it comes to this stuff. He also regrets heavily how he can't help the family much whenever they need him because of his paranormal blindness. Fiddleford can't even see or hear Bill at all at first.
- During weirdmageddon, his head hurts constantly and he feels incredibly disoriented from all the paranormal stuff going on everywhere. But since it's so overwhelming, the effects of the gun start to wane and he actually starts to be able to see the paranormal again.
- Fiddleford was in on the lies with Stan (knows he's called Stanford, tries to tell the kids that Gravity Falls is completely normal, and goes to work with Stan every night)
- Gravity falls doesn't have tons of random anomalies but only has tons of paranormal/ghostly activity.
- The mystery shack is more spooky themed. Stan has a pretty funny blue and green van instead too. He definitely didn't do that to reference anything - the colors are also mixed up for 'copyright reasons')
- Ford was not able to be killed in the other plane since he was technically dead but it was perfectly possible to feel pain and be tortured so he definitely wanted to avoid that.
- Ford has to get used to having to eat, drink, and sleep again now that he's back alive.
- Ford is less upset with Fiddleford than with Stan which seems unfair to Fiddleford who gets very frustrated with Ford because of it since he has gathered a ton of respect for Stan over all these years.
- Bill's goons are other evil spirits.
- The zodiac circle is replaced with an exorcism circle.
- Fiddleford, Stan, and Ford all become ghost hunters together after the kids leave.
Feel free to send any asks about this AU. This is my pride and joy now, oh my god
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cursedvibes · 1 day
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comparing geto and maki's massacres as the same is crazy to me. geto slaughtered an entire village of defenseless people and justified it as protecting sorcerers from the suffering of those who create curses. maki killed the clan because they explicitly wanted to kill her, mai and even megumi, the new head by naobito's will. she was there to pick up cursed tools and they pushed her to violence after killing her sister. unserious comparison.
Yeah...I can see where they are coming from because Geto was also pushed to extremes and was defending Mimiko and Nanako from harm, but Maki and Mai were abused by the clan, their family, their whole life. They actively tried to kill them. The only one being shown as defenceless is Maki's mother, but she had made it very clear before that she wants to see her daughters dead (she didn't actually mean it, but it doesn't matter what she secretly felt when it doesn't show in her actions). She was no better than Ogi, except she wasn't the one holding the blade. I really can't blame Maki snapping after everything that happened, especially after Mai specifically asked her to burn it all down. Like yes, Ranta seemed like he was one of the nicer ones, but that doesn't change the fact that he was part of the squad responsible for the years of abuse the twins suffered. They already knew from Toji how badly this could backfire, but they still went ahead with not treating Maki any better because she's a woman and Toji didn't retaliate against the Clan, so I guess it couldn't have been that bad... You can argue over who deserved death more than others, but that was hardly a situation for rational thought. It is very unfair to expect Maki to be the bigger person and just walk away from being nearly killed and seeing Mai murdered by their own family.
I think a big difference to Geto is also that Maki didn't go on to indiscriminately murder outside the Zenin Clan. Geto killed his own parents after the village massacre, who as far as we know never did anything wrong except being born non-sorcerers. And he kept going like that for 10 more years. Maki didn't. Hell, she even learned to somewhat reconciliate with how her mother treated her and she doesn't go on a killing spree like that among regular sorcerers, much less civilians. There's a big difference.
Also, I don't get where so many people are taking from that she just shook off the massacre like it was no big deal. She had a whole arc dedicated to dealing with the aftermath and learning to accept her body, Mai and what has happened! Maybe if people didn't skip through the Culling Game arc they'd actually know this (not that I'm bitter or anything). Like, my problem is that we never get the kind of bonding we see between her and Noritoshi or even Daido with the people who are supposed to be her friends (Yuuta, Inumaki, Panda, Nobara etc.). She is clearly affected by what happened, but nobody even asks her how she's doing. The best we get is "Maki is scary now". I would've loved to get more insight into her current mentality along the lines of the Sakurajima colony, something on how she will move on from this, how she will live now without her family (except Megumi), but we got nothing. That's my issue, not what came before. I think Perfect Preparation and Sakurajima colony were great for her character. She isn't the most expressive, but you can still see how affected she is by everything and it is directly addressed how suppressing everything isn't good for her, but then we get nothing past that.
But yeah, apparently she's less redeemable to some than Geto. Because she's cold and people don't pay attention to the arcs that actually delve into her character.
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differentpostrebel · 3 days
Text
Lost and Found: A Pirate's Promise
Chapter 33: The Unseen Battle: Allies, Rivals, and the Quest for Justice
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A/N; We are back with another chapter! I promise you guys I wasnt holding these chapters hostage, Its my birthday today! I officially turn 27!. And we are getting two new chapters!. I cant wait for you guys to read these.We starting off with that Sanji POV. As always thank you guys so much for everything! As without further a do let the adventure begin! 
Word Count: 7.3K
Sanji X Reader, Sanji X Y/N, One Piece X Reader 
Sanji POV.. 
I must have dozed off in Y/N’s room, because suddenly the ship’s motion changed and we had arrived at Zou. The familiar sound of Brook’s voice roused me from sleep. “Sanji? Where are you?”
I stretched my arms and got up from the comfort of your bed. The room still smelled faintly of you, and I took a moment to tidy up your bed, leaving it just as you had it. Sighing, I glanced around one last time before heading out to the deck.
“There you are,” Brook greeted me, still holding his tea. “Get changed. We’re heading out to explore.”
I nodded and made my way back to my quarters, my thoughts consumed with worries and hope for you. As I changed into my usual attire, I muttered to myself, “Mosshead, I can only hope for your sake, I get Y/N back.”
After getting dressed, I joined the others on the deck, ready to explore Zou alongside Caesar. 
Y/N POV… 
As we dashed through the chaos, Zoro glanced at me. “Luffy, is that squawking peacock guy a friend of yours?”
“Oh, you mean Cabbage?” Luffy answered, clearly unbothered.
“Yeah, Cabbage. What an odd name for someone too!” I said, trying to catch my breath.
“He’s a real weirdo, huh? I met a whole bunch of people at the Colosseum,” Luffy said.
“Well, at least we aren’t being chased—that’s a relief,” I said. But just as I finished my sentence, our path was blocked by a swarm of citizens and pirates hunting us down.
“Damn, spoke too soon,” I muttered.
“There they are! Make sure the princess is caught too!” one of the men shouted.
“Don’t let them get away!” another yelled.
Grabbing one of my blades, I activated its power, the electrical current mixing with the bright yellow light. Luffy used his Gomu Gomu Whip to kick attackers away, while Zoro employed his Two-Sword Style Rhino Cycle to blow his opponents back. I focused on my attackers, and with a determined smirk, I drew on my blade’s power. “What’s she going to do? She’s surrounded!” one of the men said.
I grinned, clenching my left hand to activate its power and forming a circle. “Now, Rush!” I commanded. A surge of electricity shot through the crowd, causing them to fall one by one.
“We’re still dealing with more!” we shouted in unison.
“What’s the plan, Luffy?” I asked.
“If we handle this mob, we’ll be here all day,” Zoro said, knocking down another opponent.
“He’s got a point,” I agreed, taking down another attacker.
“There you are, Strawhat!” a voice called out from the debris.
“Luffy, do you know him?” I asked.
“Uhh, thought so! We need to go!” Luffy said urgently.
As we fled, I struggled to catch my breath. “We’ve got more company!” I yelled.
Looking at Zoro, I tried to lighten the mood. “If we get out of this one, I’ll work out with you and spar for a week,” I said with a smile.
Zoro smirked. “Looking forward to that!”
Just then, Luffy turned around. “Just go away already!”
“Hey, stop all three of you!” the man shouted as he lunged toward us. “Y/N, look out!” Zoro yelled, pulling me out of harm’s way to avoid being crushed.
The man began to laugh. “Just hear this old man out for a moment. I wanted to let you know I have forgiven the grudge I held against your family,” he said.
“Luffy, I didn’t know you and him go way back,” I said.
“We are here for one thing: to eliminate Doflamingo’s immoral business. We don’t care about the money. A puny bounty like that is mere change for us,” said the man next to the old man.
I let out a breath of relief, placing my hands on my knees. “Well, that’s a relief.”
The old man placed his hands on Luffy’s shoulders. “I must thank you and your friend God Usopp, who rescued me in my darkest hour.”
I turned to Zoro. “Looks like Usopp really outdid himself.”
“That’s why I’ve decided to repay my debt to the Straw Hat crew by obliterating Doflamingo and his monarchy,” the old man said.
“Huh, you too? The only guy kicking his ass is me!” Luffy retorted.
The old man’s expression darkened. “Speak up. What did you say?!”
“You heard me. I said don’t bother!” Luffy shot back.
Just then, the floor rumbled beneath us. “Strawhat! I was searching for you,” a giant’s voice boomed.
“Oh, the giant guy,” Luffy said.
“I say we bury the hatchet between us. As a proud warrior of Elbaf, I’ll slay Doflamingo for God Usopp,” the giant declared.
“Huh! Get lost, I said I got this!” Luffy insisted.
“Now, boys,” I said, as Zoro grabbed my wrist, halting me. “Just wait one moment. I’m here from the Providence Kingdom. We long owed King Riku an enormous debt. I’ll bring down Doflamingo with my own two fists!” he vowed.
More people began to approach us, eager to take down Doflamingo thanks to God Usopp.
“You really attract some oddballs, huh Luffy?” Zoro and I said in unison.
“You’d be a fool to forget about me!” Cabbage said, riding in on his horse.
“Ehh, not this guy again?!” I said, moving closer to Zoro.
“Hey, are you all serious about helping?” I asked, stepping forward.
“Ah, Princess, might I say you look dashing in red,” the old man said.
I raised an eyebrow. “Uh, thanks?”
“Alright, now this is getting annoying,” Zoro said, scratching his head. “What if we do it this way!” he yelled. “Us three will handle taking down Doflamingo, while you guys watch our backs. Sound okay?”
“Absolutely not!” they all yelled in unison.
“This might be a tough negotiation, Zo,” I said, giving him a playful nickname.
“Forget it, there are way too many egos involved,” Zoro said, clearly frustrated.
I agreed with him. “Alright, everyone, listen up! I’m making the call here!” Luffy said, raising his voice. “If anyone’s going to kick Doflamingo’s ass the way it needs to be kicked, it’s going to be me!”
“What did you say?!” one of the men barked, grabbing Luffy roughly.
As I moved to intervene, a spear flew through the air and stopped me mid-step. “What the... a spear?!” I exclaimed, looking in the direction it came from.
“That’s where they were!” one of the voices said. “Splitting up all those bounties could be quite the haul!” said another.
“And the princess is looking rather good for someone with that high of a bounty,” another man added, making me step back uneasily.
“Let’s get that bounty!” one of them shouted.
“Weren’t they the toys from the factory?!” another man exclaimed. “Bastards, how dare they!” said another.
“You ungrateful swines, I’ll see you in hell!” roared the giant as he dealt with the hunters.
“Let’s go, guys!” I urged, turning to Zoro and Luffy.
“Yeah,” Zoro agreed. Just then, a bull charged out of the alley.
“It’s Ucy!” Luffy shouted. “I’ve got an idea!” With determination, Luffy led us to climb onto the bull’s back, and we started racing through the streets.
I clutched the tiara tightly as it began to slip. Zoro noticed and moved closer, his hands finding their way to my legs to secure me on the bull. His touch was firm and reassuring, and I could feel his warmth. “Hold on tight,” he said with a teasing grin. “Wouldn’t want you falling off now, would we?”
“Thanks, Zoro,” I said, trying to suppress the blush on my cheeks. “I appreciate the support.”
Law, still in sea prism stone handcuffs, glared at Zoro from a distance. His eyes were filled with frustration and jealousy. “I should be the one protecting her,” he grumbled under his breath, unable to hide his irritation at seeing Zoro so close to me.
"Master Pika! I spotted the Strawhats! They came right to us! Don’t let them get away!" one of Pika’s subordinates shouted as they began firing at us.
“What, Strawhat!” the old man’s voice boomed.
I turned slightly, still gripping my tiara, Zoro's arms tightening around me for security. “Looks like they followed us here, huh?” I said with a sigh.
“Huh, I told ya, I got this! Get lost!” Luffy shouted, as more and more of the group caught up, trying to attach themselves to the bull.
I shook my head, placing a hand on my forehead. “Well, this is... eventful,” I muttered.
“Luffy, what should we do with all this extra weight?” Zoro asked, his grip still firm on me.
“You bonehead, stop talking trash!” came Pika’s high-pitched voice, which caused all of us to burst out laughing in unison.
“Why is he so squeaky?!” we chorused, unable to hold back our laughter.
Pika’s face twisted with rage, launching a massive attack toward us. “Hope it was worth it! You’ll be laughing in your graves!”
Just then, two of our new allies sprang into action, managing to shatter Pika’s arm with their attacks. Zoro and I exchanged impressed glances.
“Way to go, guys!” I cheered, a smile spreading across my face.
But the celebration didn’t last long, as the bickering resumed almost immediately. The arguing over who would kill Doflamingo first started again, their voices rising over the sound of the crumbling debris.
“Why does it always come back to this?” I said, rolling my eyes as I looked at Zoro, who shared the same exasperated expression.
“Yeah, well, at least they managed to break something useful,” Zoro added with a smirk, still holding onto me as if it was second nature.
As the debris began to fall, Lucy (the bull) managed to dodge them with ease. "That was close. Yeah, giddy up!" Luffy shouted, excited to be riding the bull.
"Easy, boy, we’re all counting on you!" said one of the men on Luffy's side.
"Ah!" I yelped as I suddenly noticed a few more of the men clinging onto the bull. "When did they get here?!" I exclaimed, trying to keep my balance while still holding onto my tiara.
"Ah!" I gasped again, feeling Zoro’s grip on my leg tighten, his hand moving slightly higher.
"Zoro!" I whispered sharply, my face heating up.
"Relax," he said with that familiar, lazy grin. "Just making sure you stay on the bull."
I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath, "Yeah, right."
Luffy, completely oblivious to the tension, was laughing as usual. "Zoro, hold on tighter! This ride’s getting crazy!" he shouted, clearly enjoying the bull ride and trying to get the men clinging to us off.
"Oh, don’t worry, Captain, I’m holding on real tight," Zoro said with a smirk, causing me to blush at his comment. His hand on my leg felt both reassuring and heated.
"Don’t worry, Y/N, I’ve got you. Wouldn’t want you to fall off now," Zoro said, his eyes taking in my figure with a lingering gaze. The way he looked at me made my cheeks flush even more.
"You sure it’s not because of something else?" I teased, though I couldn’t help but smile faintly at his possessiveness.
Law, clearly frustrated and feeling a pang of jealousy, shot a glare at Zoro. "Roronoa, can you stop gripping her like that?"
Zoro’s smirk didn’t falter. "Hey, I’m just making sure she’s nice and secured. Wouldn’t want her to fall off with all this chaos going on."
Law, still handcuffed and unable to join the fray, grumbled under his breath. "Yeah, well, try not to enjoy it too much."
Despite the chaos, I found some comfort in Zoro’s presence. His confident grip and protective stance provided a sense of stability amidst the turmoil.
As we continued the wild ride, I leaned closer to Zoro, feeling the warmth of his body against mine. "Thanks, Zoro. I really do appreciate it."
Zoro’s eyes softened slightly as he looked down at me. "Just doing my job. And keeping you safe is part of that."
As the allies continued their fierce battle against the subordinates, we dodged bullets and struggled with the chaos around us. The argument over who would take down Doflamingo escalated, and tensions were high.
"He’s mine! Go away!" Luffy shouted, his frustration evident. Suddenly, rose petals began to drift down around us, settling on the bull and us.
"When did these get here?!" I exclaimed, brushing one off my hand.
"Haha," came a familiar, infuriating voice. "There’s no way…" I muttered, recognizing it immediately.
Cabbage appeared, landing gracefully on the bull’s back. "Cabbage!" Luffy said, clearly irritated.
"Ah, not this guy again?!" I said, trying to distance myself from Cabbage.
"Destiny, conquested its melody, bringing me back," Cabbage declared dramatically, holding a rose aloft. His gaze shifted to me, and he reached for my hand, pressing a theatrical kiss to my knuckles. "Princess, have you reconsidered my offer?"
"What part of ‘I’m not interested’ wasn’t clear?!" I said, exasperated.
Cabbage completely ignored me, leaning closer with a smirk. "Ahhh, such a feisty young princess. I could get used to that."
Before I could react, I felt a sudden jolt and found myself seated firmly on Zoro’s lap. His strong arms wrapped around me, his grip tight and commanding.
Zoro’s eyes narrowed, and he glared at Cabbage with a fierce intensity. "What the hell do you think you’re doing, Cabbage?"
Cabbage, undeterred, attempted to pry me away from Zoro. "Princess…" he cooed, reaching for my hand.
Zoro’s grip on my waist tightened even more, his hold almost possessive. "Don’t you dare touch her," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "She’s not going anywhere with you."
Cabbage’s persistent kisses on my hand only intensified Zoro’s protective stance. His hands remained firmly on my waist, making sure I was securely held against him.
"Get off me!" I demanded, trying to wrench my hand free from Cabbage’s ironclad grip. Despite my efforts, his hold remained unyielding.
Cabbage’s gaze was unwavering, his smirk persistent. “Ah, such a spirited princess. You’re even more captivating when you’re resisting.”
Zoro’s eyes flared with anger. “I said don’t touch her. Let go of her now!” His voice was a growl, filled with authority and frustration.
Cabbage’s grip didn’t waver as he leaned in, his eyes locked on mine with an intensity that bordered on obsession. “Princess, you and I are destined to be together. Why resist such a fate?” His tone was both fervent and invasive.
I struggled to keep my balance on Zoro’s lap while desperately trying to shake off Cabbage’s unrelenting hold. “Are you out of your mind?!” I snapped, my voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.
Law, glaring at Cabbage with palpable anger, tried to intervene. “Cabbage, get your hands off her!”
Despite Law’s threat, Cabbage remained undeterred, his focus solely on me. Zoro, his protective instincts fully activated, tightened his grip around my waist, his expression a blend of concern and possessiveness.
Seeing the situation escalate, Luffy acted swiftly. With a powerful kick, he sent Cabbage flying off the bull. “Get lost!” he shouted, his irritation clear as he watched Cabbage hit the ground.
Cabbage landed roughly, his face contorted in frustration as he glared up at us.
“Thanks, Luffy,” I said, relief evident in my voice as I tried to steady myself.
“Don’t mention it,” Luffy replied, his eyes still fixed on Cabbage. “The guy was being a creep.”
Zoro, still holding me securely on his lap, looked at me with a protective concern. “Are you okay, Y/N?” His voice was soft but edged with a possessiveness that was hard to ignore.
I nodded, managing a small smile despite the chaos. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks to you.”
Zoro’s gaze remained focused on me, his hand still firmly around my waist, ensuring that no one else could get close.
I took a moment to check my belongings, my mind racing with the need to ensure everything was still in place. “Rings, check. Bracelet, check. Anklet, check. Swords, check,” I muttered to myself, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I confirmed that everything was secure.
Cabbage’s grip had been surprisingly strong, and with the tug-of-war between him and Zoro, I needed to make sure my rings and other items hadn’t fallen or been misplaced. Satisfied that everything was still intact, I took a deep breath and looked around, grateful for Zoro’s unwavering support and Luffy’s timely intervention.
As we continued to ride the bull, the allies and Cabbage remained hot on our tails, their bickering with Luffy about who would take down Doflamingo only escalating. The commotion around us seemed endless.
Feeling a mix of exhaustion and frustration, I laid my head on Zoro’s shoulder. "This constant bickering is getting out of hand," I sighed, closing my eyes briefly to collect my thoughts.
Zoro’s grip on me tightened slightly, his presence offering a comforting sense of stability amidst the chaos. "Tell me about it," he replied, his voice steady and calm. Just then, our unexpected guests froze, their bickering cut short. "What is it now?" I said, clearly annoyed. We all turned to see Pika towering before us, his massive form looming over. "I won't let you get near Doffy!" Pika growled, his arm regenerating and growing back to full size again.
I sighed, glancing at Zoro. "What a pain," I said, watching Pika’s arm slowly piece itself back together. The bull, Ucy, charged faster up Pika's arm as Luffy jumped off, ready for a fight.
"Mr. Strawhat!" one of the stowaways shouted in panic.
I smirked. "Don’t worry, he's got it!" I turned my attention to Luffy, who was already in full battle mode. "Third Gear! Armament Hardening!" Luffy shouted as his fist, now enormous and hardened, landed a clean hit on Pika's head. The impact was tremendous, and Luffy laughed triumphantly as Pika reeled back.
Zoro, meanwhile, carefully released me from his grip, his eyes narrowing with that sharp intensity he always had before a fight. He rolled his shoulders, getting ready.
"You sense something, Zo?" I asked, my gaze softening as I watched him. There was something captivating about him in moments like this, the way he stood so confidently, always prepared to face whatever came next. 
"Hey, Luffy!" Zoro suddenly shouted, drawing my attention back. Luffy was running alongside Ucy, laughing as usual. "Don’t celebrate just yet, the head you shattered was a stone decoy!"
“What?" I whispered in surprise. "So, does that mean squeaky got away?"
Zoro smirked as a massive figure emerged from the stone. "Well, well, looks like somebody’s pissed off. His real body’s up ahead!"
"You mean to tell me that huge guy is Pika—and he’s got that squeaky voice?!" I said in disbelief.
"He's got a huge katana! It’s not too late to turn around!" the unwanted guests on the bull screamed, clearly terrified.
Luffy grabbed Ucy—and us—leaping into the air just in time to dodge Pika’s colossal strike. "Hahaha, that voice gets me every time!" Luffy laughed, despite the danger.
"He's going to hit again!" someone yelled. Instinctively, I reached for my blades, preparing to defend us. But Zoro’s hand was already on mine, stopping me.
"Zoro, what are you—" I began, but he cut me off.
"I got this," Zoro said, his voice steady, never taking his eyes off Pika. His grip on his swords tightened, his entire body exuding confidence.
"Zoro..." I said quietly, concerned but trusting him completely.
"Y/N, stay with Luffy and Law!" Zoro ordered, his tone firm yet protective. "I’ll handle it from here!"
I nodded reluctantly as Luffy and I settled back on Ucy, the bull charging forward. "Be careful, Zoro!" I shouted after him as his figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance.
The guests, tears streaming down their faces, looked on in awe. "God, you have such badass friends," one of them cried.
Zoro smirked, glancing back one last time. "You go get him, Captain!" he yelled toward Luffy, before turning his full focus back to Pika.
"I'm gonna give Mingo the beating he deserves!" Luffy declared with fire in his eyes.
Minutes passed, and Ucy was gliding gracefully downward, inching closer to the palace. "Woohoo! Go, Ucy!" Luffy cheered, clearly exhilarated by the ride.
Taking advantage of the moment, I clenched my left hand, activating its power. With a burst of energy, I adjusted my balance on Ucy and leaped into the air, gracefully shifting to sit beside Luffy and Law. The unexpected guests below stared in awe, unable to hide their amazement. "How did she—" one of them exclaimed, while the other murmured, "She really is lethal!"
Ignoring their stunned reactions, I focused on Law, who was still in his cuffs, lying on the bull. I gently took a seat next to him, placing a hand on his forearm with a flirtatious smile. "You don’t mind if I sit next to you, do you, Law?" I asked, my fingers lightly tracing his arm. "I thought I'd offer a bit of company."
Law’s initial surprise was quickly replaced by a soft blush as he felt my touch. He flexed his forearm slightly, trying to appear nonchalant despite the rosy tint on his cheeks. "Comfort is always welcome, even in these circumstances," he replied, his voice betraying a hint of flustered amusement. "Especially when it comes with your company."
"Just you wait, Mingo," Luffy declared, his fist clenched in determination. "I don’t want anybody kicking your ass but me."
"Hey, Strawhat," Law said, grabbing Luffy's attention. "I realize we have no choice but to kill Doflamingo now." I reached for one of my blades from the thigh halter, feeling its familiar energy channel within me.
"I know that’s not the plan we had earlier," Law continued, his voice filled with resolve, "but to be completely honest with you, I want to make him suffer with my own hands. I won’t let him defeat me again."
Law hesitated for a brief moment, and I gave him a reassuring nod with my other hand. "Thirteen years ago, there was a person I cared for deeply, and Doflamingo killed him," Law said, his voice filled with pain.
"Law..." I whispered, my heart aching for him. I couldn’t imagine the suffering he must have endured.
"His name was Corazon. He was a top executive for the Donquixote Family."
I was stunned. Glancing at Luffy, I saw he was also processing this new information. "Mingo killed his own friend?" Luffy asked, incredulity in his voice.
"Corazon was the man who saved my life," Law continued, his gaze unwavering. "Corazon was more than just a member of the Donquixote Family. He was... his younger brother."
My hand went to my mouth in shock. "He... killed his own flesh and blood?" I whispered, unable to fully grasp the magnitude of Law's revelation.
Before I could say anything more, one of the unwanted guests interjected, "This is it, Strawhat! We are about to reach the bottom, and we have unexpected guests too!"
As Ucy glided down, I slowly rolled my shoulders, wincing slightly from the bullet wound on my left. I clutched my blade tightly, ready for action. "Yeah, we are the first ones to make it!" Luffy said, his excitement palpable. "That means we get first dibs on Mingo!"
"That’s what I’m talking about, Captain!" I said with a smile.
"Fire!" Luffy commanded as another round of bullets rained down on us.
"Allow me, Luffy," I said, smirking. Clenching the blade with my left hand, I felt the familiar fire blaze around it. With a swift motion, I leaped into the air, heading straight toward the subordinates. As I swung my blade, the bullets transformed into blazing fire, redirecting their trajectory back toward the enemies.
With precise control, I guided the fiery projectiles to impact the subordinates, sending them scattering in retreat. The flames danced around me as I landed gracefully back onto Ucy, “You made it look easy!” Luffy grinned, clearly impressed.
I chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face. “It’s all about confidence and control.”
Law, his cheeks slightly flushed, watched me with admiration. His eyes were wide with awe as he took in the display of power. He couldn’t help but smile, though his face betrayed a noticeable blush. “That was... incredible,” he managed, his voice tinged with genuine admiration. “The way you control the flames... it’s something else.”
I glanced at him, noticing his reaction. “Thanks, Law. I’m glad you think so.” 
His blush deepened as he spoke, making it clear that he was both impressed and somewhat flustered by what he had witnessed. “You really have a way of standing out,” he added, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide his admiration.
One of the unwanted guests, still trying to process the spectacle, stammered, “Did she really just turn those bullets into fire? That was incredible!”
We finally made it to the palace, still riding Ucy with the wind rushing past us. "Only an idiot would mess with the Strawhats!" exclaimed one of the unwanted guests behind us. I turned around, glancing at them in disbelief. “And why are they still here?” I muttered to myself, shaking my head slightly.
Luffy, clearly fed up, chimed in. "The idiots behind me can hit the road too!" He shot a look over his shoulder, causing them to nervously chuckle.
“Come on, Strawhat, you don’t mean that! We’re your buddies!” they said, laughing nervously.
I sighed, turning toward Luffy. "Looks like we’re stuck with them, huh?" I said, shaking my head in exasperation.
Before Luffy could respond, a voice shouted from the front, "Die, Strawhat!"
“Gomu Gomu no Stamp Gatling!” Luffy called out as he launched into a series of rapid-fire kicks, each one landing squarely on the faces of the subordinates ahead of us.
Amid the chaos, a sudden crackle on the transponder snail grabbed my attention. "Strawhat Luffy, Law, and the princess are all at the front part of the palace!" a subordinate yelled, trying to alert the others.
Without hesitation, I clenched my left hand, the fire still blazing within me, and fired a burst of flame straight at the transponder snail, hitting it dead-on. The subordinate yelped in fear as the device burst into flames.
“We won’t be needing any of that now, will we?” I said, turning my gaze back with a smirk.
The unwanted guests stared at me, wide-eyed and stunned. “She really is lethal!” they said in unison, admiration mixed with fear.
I just rolled my eyes, clearly unimpressed by their reaction. “Alright, let’s go!” Luffy shouted, full of energy. Ucy picked up speed as we continued toward the palace. 
Sabo POV… 
The heat of the flames surrounded both me and Fujitora, the air thick with tension and embers. He stood there, calm as ever, but I wasn’t backing down. "I don’t suppose if I asked nicely you’d move out of my way?" Fujitora asked, as if this were some casual conversation.
I grinned, flames flickering around me. "I suppose not. I stand with the Strawhat Pirates and those who’ve risen up to join them. So, if you or anybody else gets in their way... you won’t be taking another step." I wasn’t just speaking for them—I meant every word. I’d be damned if I let anything happen to them. The groans of fallen soldiers echoed in the background, a reminder of the destruction my previous attacks had caused.
"Is that the Revolutionary Army’s job?" Fujitora inquired, still maintaining his calm demeanor.
"It is now," I responded with a cocky smirk, standing tall. "And I think I can say that, seeing as I’m the Chief of Staff." My voice held firm, but there was something deeper in my words. "More so, I say that as a brother."
The marines were stunned, whispers circulating through their ranks. Fujitora remained unphased, but I could tell he was curious. "I see, that begs the question of who your sibling might be," he mused, still calm, even as chaos surrounded us.
The marines began cocking their guns, preparing for another pointless assault. "Don’t bother," Fujitora interrupted. "I know he’s our enemy, but you'd only be wasting ammunition."
"But Vice Admiral—!" one of the marines protested, looking between me and Fujitora.
"You’re leaders, right?" I said, flames swirling around me. "None of you stand a chance."
Just then, a marine, not heeding the warning, fired a shot at me. The bullet was no match for the Flame-Flame Fruit’s power; my flames absorbed it effortlessly. I smirked, relishing the surprise on their faces. "Told ya," I said, glancing at them. "I ate the Flame-Flame Fruit."
The marines stood there, stunned by the revelation. A few more bullets followed, but they all met the same fate—burnt to ash before they even touched me.
"What the hell, man!? Nobody’s fingers should be that strong!" a marine shouted, his voice shaky with disbelief.
I chuckled, feeling the power surge within me. "These aren’t fingers—they’re claws." With a swift motion, I grabbed one of their weapons and crushed it like it was made of paper. Then, with a flick of my wrist, I sent a Fire Fist crashing into the marines, flames erupting and engulfing the area. Some fell immediately, unable to withstand the heat.
"Physical attacks don’t work on him!" one of the vice admirals shouted as he launched his own attack, swinging a sharp cleaver in my direction. I caught it mid-strike, stopping the blow with ease before breaking the cleaver in half with a single motion.
I smirked again. "By the way, once these claws grab a human skull, they can shatter it like an egg."
Before I could follow through with another attack, I felt something—a sudden shift in the air. A meteor. Fujitora’s doing, no doubt. The Birdcage sliced it into pieces before it could fully descend.
"Ah, man, should’ve thought that one through," Fujitora said, his tone almost amused.
I emerged from the smoke, holding onto the vice admiral’s mask. "I know admirals are nothing to scoff at, but that’s one hell of a trick." I wasn’t hiding my admiration, though I made it clear I wasn’t backing down. "I’m still getting used to my new powers," I said, flashing a confident grin.
"You’ve really caused quite the mess," Fujitora commented, though I could tell he wasn’t entirely blaming me.
"Not half as much as you," I shot back, incredulous at the destruction around us.
Fujitora’s eyes softened, as if recalling something. "You mentioned your duty as a brother. It reminds me of Fire Fist Ace. He said that Strawhat Luffy was his brother, though not by blood. Are you his brother?"
His question hit me harder than expected. Memories of Ace, Luffy, and I flashed through my mind—the day we exchanged sake cups, the bond we swore to never break. "The three of us… exchanged a cup of sake. Even in death, our bond will never break," I said, my voice steady though the weight of the memory pressed down on me.
Fujitora remained silent, listening.
I clenched my fists, feeling the familiar pain of not being there for Ace when he needed me most. But this time, I swore things would be different. "Mark my words," I continued, my eyes locked with Fujitora’s, "no matter where I am, or what I’m doing, even if I have to abandon my duties, I won’t let him down. I’ll be there for Luffy."
Fujitora seemed to understand the depth of my promise. But this wasn’t over yet. His next move was coming. I could feel it.
As his first attack launched, I readied myself, gripping the metal pipe tightly in my hands. The flames engulfed me once more, power surging through me.
"Luffy, I swear… I’ll protect you," I thought, as the battle began again.
Y/N POV… 
"Go! Go! Go!" Luffy’s excitement radiated as Ucy barreled forward, knocking down subordinates like they were nothing more than mere obstacles. I tightened my grip, not wanting to be thrown from the bull with all the chaos unfolding around us.
"Luffy? What’s that ahead?" I squinted as the debris began to clear, trying to make sense of the figure coming into view.
Suddenly, Ucy halted abruptly, throwing me forward into Luffy, while Law—ever quick—caught me from behind, softening the impact before the two unwanted guests behind us could knock me over entirely.
"Oww!" I groaned, rubbing my head, feeling the weight of my tiara, making sure it was still secure.
"Cabbage!" Luffy shouted.
I stared, completely stunned. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!"
Before I could fully comprehend the absurdity of the situation, I felt a hand settle firmly on my waist. Looking down, I saw the familiar "DEATH" tattoo on Law’s knuckles. His touch sent a jolt through me, not just from the contact but the possessive energy behind it.
"Don’t worry, princess," Law said, his voice low and dripping with possessiveness. "Even in these sea prism cuffs, I’m not letting him try anything." His tone was both protective and slightly irritated, adding a layer of tension that made my heart race.
I glanced forward and, to my absolute disbelief, Cabbage was there, sitting tall on his white stallion, with a rose in his mouth like some ridiculous storybook hero.
"This man can’t be for real," I muttered, barely able to believe my eyes.
And then, in true dramatic fashion, Cabbage pulled out a megaphone. "Pardon me, but I'll be taking the lead!" he announced loudly, as if we were all here just to witness his grand performance.
"You mean to tell me he actually has that?" I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
Cabbage's gaze landed on me, his voice filled with exaggerated charm, "Why, princess, it seems destiny keeps placing you in my path. Could it be fate that brings us together?" His declaration was loud enough for the whole world to hear.
That was it.
I clenched my blade tighter, feeling the familiar surge of energy pulsing through it. My patience was thinning by the second.
"You idiot!" I snapped. "Why don’t you just scream it to the heavens while you’re at it? Are you trying to get me taken?!" My frustration echoed through the battlefield, as I gripped my blade, ready to unleash its energy if I had to.
Law’s hand on my waist tightened, his presence grounding me, but I could still feel the tension radiating off him. He rolled his eyes slightly at Cabbage’s antics.
Cabbage simply laughed off my frustration, as if my outburst was nothing more than a playful jest, before charging ahead on his white stallion, heading straight towards where Doflamingo was waiting.
"Damn it! I thought I was taking a shortcut for sure," Luffy groaned, his eyes set on Cabbage speeding off. "We gotta pick up the pace, Ucy!" He urged the bull forward, but the gap between us and Cabbage was widening.
Just then, I noticed the crowd we had left behind earlier was now catching up. "How are they catching up to us?" I muttered in disbelief.
"This sucks! We’re losing!" Luffy growled, gritting his teeth in frustration.
As if on cue, the subordinates started firing again. "Shoot the bull!" one of them yelled. Ucy bucked and dodged as bullets whizzed past us, causing all of us to bounce precariously. We clung to Ucy as best as we could, but the wild movement was making it harder to maintain grip.
"Damn these idiots!" I cursed, feeling my grip slipping. Just then, a figure launched himself at the attackers, throwing punches left and right.
"Hey, crapbags! Keep your paws off Strawhat!" the man shouted, knocking subordinates down with each hit.
"Luffy, you know him?" I asked, squinting at the guy in confusion.
"Not a clue," Luffy replied casually.
The man let out an exaggerated groan, clearly offended. "Why, you're breaking my heart, Strawhat! I was in Block C, remember? It's Kelly Funk!" He pouted, trying to jog Luffy’s memory.
Luffy blinked, clueless. "Who?"
Funk let out an exasperated sigh. "Your buddy God Usopp saved my tail today! Just bein' friendly!" he explained, landing another punch on someone sneaking up from behind.
"Anyways," Funk continued, "I found a shortcut you can use! It'll take you right to the Sunflower Field and straight to the palace!"
"Really?!" Luffy's eyes lit up with excitement. "That's awesome! Thank you so much!"
"Yeah, thanks!" I added, trying to maintain my grip on Ucy. But as Funk turned around and his eyes met mine, his cheeks flushed a deep pink.
"Wh-Why… Pr-Princess…" he stammered, swallowing hard. "I… I must say, seeing you in person is truly a rare sight indeed."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised at his sudden bashfulness. "Why do you say that?"
"Because… when I saw your name pop up on Doflamingo’s list, I couldn’t believe it! Might I say, red really does highlight your features more." He smiled nervously, clearly flustered.
I returned a polite, short smile, feigning sweetness. "Can you take us to this shortcut you found?"
"Of course! It’s the least I can do! Right this way!" Funk exclaimed, still blushing as he led the way.
As Ucy continued to follow Funk, I leaned closer to Luffy, lowering my voice. "There's something off about him, Luffy," I murmured, glancing at Funk suspiciously. "I don’t trust him. Keep your guard up."
Luffy looked at me, confused. "Huh? You think so? He seems helpful."
I narrowed my eyes at Funk’s back. "Just a gut feeling. Let’s stay sharp."
As Funk led the way, I was still processing the unexpected situation when Law’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Hey, Strawhat, we need to find the keys to the cuffs. There’s no point in reaching the palace if I can’t fight. At this rate, Doflamingo will just kill me.”
Luffy paused, his expression thoughtful. “Eh, it’ll all work out. Or at least I hope it does!” He said, chuckling to himself.
Law’s frustration was evident. “What if it doesn’t? If we don’t win this fight, then we’re all dead!” His voice was a mix of urgency and annoyance.
Sensing his mounting frustration, I stepped closer to Law, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “Hey, don’t stress too much,” I said, offering him a teasing smile. “We’ve handled worse. And if anyone can get us through this, it’s Luffy. 
Law looked at me, his frustration softening slightly. “You make it sound so easy.”
I leaned in a bit, my fingers lightly brushing against his arm. “Well, it might be easier if you stay calm. I’ve heard that a little distraction can go a long way.”
His eyes widened slightly as I gently traced a finger along his cuff. “A distraction?”
I flashed him a playful grin. “Yeah. You know, just to keep your mind off things. It might help you stay focused.”
Law’s cheeks reddened a bit as he tried to maintain his composure. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that?”
I chuckled, giving him a flirtatious look. “Oh, I’ve got a few ideas.
I started, but before Law could respond, Funk abruptly stopped and revealed the passageway. “There’s something unsettling about this,” I said, eyeing Funk suspiciously.
“Luffy? Are you sure about this?” I asked, still feeling uneasy.
“It’s our only shot to the palace faster, Y/N,” Luffy said confidently.
I glanced at Funk, then back at Luffy, and sighed. “Alright, captain, if you say we should trust it, then let’s go.” I smiled, trying to push away my concerns.
“Ucy! Let’s go!” Luffy called out as we entered the narrow tunnel. The unwanted guests, who had managed to hit their heads on the entrance, tumbled off the bull.
“Ah well, we didn’t need them, did we?” Law remarked, glancing at the two fallen guests.
“Nope, no turning back now. To the sunflower field!” I said encouragingly as we continued riding Ucy.
Just then, we heard the sound of a transponder snail. “Looks like it’s coming from your pocket, Law,” I said, noticing the source.
“Get it,” Law instructed. I reached into his pocket, retrieved the snail, and handed it to Luffy.
“Hello, this is Luffy, the man who’s going to be the King of the Pirates!” Luffy announced with his usual enthusiasm, causing me to chuckle at his exuberance.
“Hi Luffy, it’s me,” came the familiar voice.
“Robin!” we both exclaimed, relieved to hear a familiar voice from our crew.
“Right now, we’re at the plateau, same as before. And you?” Robin asked.
“We’re at the bottom of that other plateau, on the way to some sunflower field,” Luffy replied, keeping his focus on the path ahead.
“Good news, Viola found the keys to the cuffs. Let’s meet up,” Robin said.
“Oh, thank goodness!” I said, breathing a sigh of relief. “Let’s hurry.”
Law, visibly relieved, looked hopeful. “This is Leo, from the Tontatta tribe. Soon, Ms. Rebecca, the rooster guy, and Robin will be heading over there at supersonic speed,” Leo added.
I couldn’t help but gush at his adorable voice. “Aww, his voice sounds so adorable,” I said with a smile.
With that, we ended the call. “It’s pretty dark down here, huh?” I said, looking ahead.
“See, it all worked out!” Luffy said with his characteristic grin.
“Yeah, by coincidence?!” Law retorted, still visibly frustrated
I gave Law a teasing smile, leaning in despite his cuffs. “Progress is progress, and you’ve definitely earned this,” I said softly before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, leaving a faint red lip stain.
Law’s face immediately flushed with color, and he shifted uncomfortably, unable to touch his cheek due to the cuffs. “Y/N…” he stammered, his usual cool demeanor cracking under the sudden affection.
I chuckled at his reaction, finding his flustered state endearing. “You look cute with a little blush on your cheeks,” I said, enjoying the sight of his reaction. 
I said, enjoying the sight of his reaction. As I turned my attention forward, I heard Law’s concerned voice.
“Hey! One second, feels like this passage is sloping down,” he warned.
Suddenly, we found ourselves in a flooded area. “Turn back! This place is flooded!” Law said urgently.
“Crap,” I muttered, glancing around at the rising water. “I knew I had a bad feeling about this,” I admitted.
“Huh? I thought this was a shortcut to the top of the plateau?” Luffy questioned, his confusion evident.
“It’s a dead end!” I said, trying to think quickly. “We gotta get out of here now!” I commanded, urging Ucy to navigate out of the water.
“Wait, you guys hear that?” I said, my senses alert as slow footsteps approached.
“This is nothing more than a sideways water well, more of a trap if you will,” a voice echoed through the passage.
“It’s…” I began, clenching my blade tightly.
“It’s Doflamingo!” Luffy said, his voice filled with determination.
The tension in the air was palpable as Doflamingo’s presence became more pronounced. I felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety, readying myself for whatever confrontation lay ahead.
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