#like. man. this got long sure but also. man.

[kkusuka]

i would love to be john price's (141's) little bird.

(afab reader, you're lowkey a housewife, g/n pronouns, this was also a lot longer than i meant it to be-1.2k words- and i also wrote it entirely in class)

just the cute little thing he comes home to after long missions; ready to give him anything he needs to fully enjoy his time at home. barefoot and wide-eyed waiting for your bear of a husband to return from his long hard mission, keeping him fed and fucked as much as he needs. and he just loves you so much-- so much that he needs to show everyone how good you are for him.

it's not like he sets out to rub it in, but when his sergeant mentions not having anyone waiting for him at home-- john just can’t help but invite him over, you always talk about how much you love taking care of him, adding another man shouldn't be a problem! and what kind of captain would he be if he didn't take care of his subordinates?

and you aren't complaining! you love when john lets you see into his job! and gaz is just so sweet, saying please and thank you, offering to help clean the dishes, and politely refusing any leftovers even when you all know he has no food to go back to. so, you just have to keep inviting him over, night after night. and he's so good at conversations, even when he and your husband talk with all their military jargon, he makes sure you understand all of it; you just want to keep him in your house forever! so you kind of do…

you can't imagine making him go all the way home to his cold and dark apartment, it's so far and you know he's tired from his month of constant action-- so suddenly kyle has a bedroom set up right next to yours (close enough to hear how john thanks you for being so good to his sergeant, and just maybe a hand goes down below his waistband) a fully stocked bathroom and a place to put his shoes when you all come back your occasion dinners out. (they're dates, you don't think it but they do)

but kyle is not a man so stay silent about his blessings. you're too nice, too pretty to not tell soap about-- and trust john isn't going to complain, and he knows that you won’t either. 'the best roast i think i've ever had' and 'knows exactly how to make a man feel at home' and soap is not one to stray from his desires.

so you end up with your boys, and a bubbling scotsman in your dinning room with no warning. and you're upset, no one told you that you had to make more food and now there isn't enough to give everyone your usual heaping portion- and there is no way you're letting anyone go hungry in your home!

so you end up bouncing around the kitchen, trying to whip something up before the main course finishes in the oven and who but soap offers to help you out! he's got a hand on you at all times (two on your waist when you're chopping the onion, he just wouldn't know what to do with himself if you got hurt making him dinner. so he has to hold you steady, he has to run his hands over your hips keep you stabilized-- don't think too much into it, just stay focused on chopping bonnie)

and soap knows that he can talk for hours, but he can't help it when your eyes light up when he mentions his childhood in scotland and his missions around the world. and your small flinch and frown when he talks about getting hurt. their lass just can't help but worry about them. he just can't stay away from his captains sweet bird-- not when you send him off with a steaming pile of leftovers and a tight hug (pressed against him as hard as you can because you don’t want him to go)

johnny, a man to brag, never shuts up about how it took kyle three months to get a room but it only took him two. (sometimes when he comes back from the bathroom in the morning he can see into your room as you're getting ready. and he doesn't mean to do it but your panties are his favorite shade of blue and they look so amazing on you-- he wants to see them up close so bad.)

and so he tells ghost of all his troubles- unasked and randomly the next time they got sent out. and does ghost really care about johnny's playground crush on their captains bird? yes. how had he been left the only one not getting home cooked meals after being sent out? is he going to say anything about it?

not a chance.

so it takes a little while before the final place at your dinner table to be filled. but after a particularly grueling mission (and already wishing to come over), ghost is finally convinced he belongs with the rest of his team.

and you've never been happier to make extra food; you've been hearing for months about the illusive fourth man of your husband's battalion but having him stand in your kitchen with a cute little store bought dessert was certainly worth the wait. ( 'Ah didnae ken ye liked pink that much, lt' 'it was all they 'ad, can't show up empty 'anded, johnny')

and is he a little awkward and standoffish, of course-- years of military pressure will do that to a man!

and simon is just too sweet, even if he doesn't know it. he's pulling your chair out for you, and running out in the rain to collect the mail that you'd forgotten all about. he even lets you drag him to the grocery store during your weekly trips. (it's not dragging, he'd follow you into the pits of hell if you'd asked him too so the grocery store is really not a big deal.)

everything is just so perfect when all of your the boys are all in the house together!

and suddenly everything in life makes sense again. that plate that you can never reach on the highest shelf in the kitchen, a body is pressed against you as simon leans over you to grab it leaving you with a squeeze to your hip and red face. the gossip that your husband just never understood in the way he should is studently being told to kyle over coffee every morning as your other boys roll out of bed. the soap opera that you rope johnny into watching every thursday night becomes facemasks and wine time.

and john just loves it. he just loves you so much; loves the way you smile at kyles flirting, loves how you cuddle up to johnny on the couch, loves how you let simon hold you so close when you make his tea in the morning, and he just loves teasing you about it. (teasing? yes. making you face the fact that you want your husbands men to run a train on you like a whore. also yes.)

i wanna keep going but i have to let it end at some point

[nerdygirlramblings]

I have a vision

Like reader and John are married for god knows how long (probaly since he was just a Sergeant) so it's obvious that reader knows Ghost, or rather Simon since John is like a father to him.

So when John comes home after a rough mission, Simon is with him. Usually Simon would sleep on the couch or the guest room but this time it's different. He's on the edge of a breakdown and reader offers him to join them in bed for cuddles, John doesn't mind that.

It ends up with Simon bare and vulnerable and reader and John taking care of him

If you wanna include some smut it's your choice, you're the author

Also the gender of reader because Idc about that

Thank you for this ask! This one took a few different journeys in my head before we got here, but this is the version that felt right. I hope you enjoy the result!

an: I delved into asexuality here, but if I misportrayed the acespec experience, please lmk! This is a new space for me, and I want to get it right.

Simon's known you since before he made lieutenant. You've been Price's since forever. Simon likes you because his Captain loves you. Simon loves you because you support his and Price's relationship.

The first time it had happened, they'd been on base less than an hour, wrung out from the mission and staring down the barrel of after action reports. Price was sitting at his desk, paperwork splayed out and only half finished when Ghost had come in and nearly dropped from sheer exhaustion. He couldn't tell if the weariness was mental or physical or some combination of both, but Price served as a grounding force.

Price wasn't a mind reader but he was an expert in body language, and he'd taken one look at Ghost and known exactly what was wrong. He beckoned the younger man over. It took coaxing and a promise that things would be better to get Ghost to kneel at Price's feet and put his head in Price's lap. Price slid one hand off the paperwork he'd only been half-heartedly completing and ran it up under Ghost's mask, pulling the balaclava off. Thick fingers scrubbed through the sweaty hair and eventually began a light pet.

"You're safe here Simon. I've got you," he rumbled, voice gruff from the cigar on his desk. Simon's not sure how long they were there, Price's hand keeping him grounded while giving him the space to let go. It could have been seconds or days. All he knows is he had never felt as free as he did by the time Price roused him off his knees and shooed him back to his own paperwork.

After that, mission debriefs began including quiet time for Simon and his Captain where the older man would help the younger come back to himself. For someone as touched-starved as Simon had always been, Price's comfort was a blessing.

He doesn't remember what mission they'd come off of the night you found them, but he does recall the startled gasp you made when you walked in with dinner for your husband only to find him with another man in his lap. You'd only met the lieutenant once before. He couldn't, wouldn't, get between Price and you, but he didn't know how to find the strength to leave.

Thankfully, you kept an open mind. Let your husband explain that there was nothing sexual or even romantic to their relationship. Smiled at Simon as he stumbled through how it felt to not have to worry just for a little while. And, when all was said and done, opened your arms and beckoned Simon into them.

For years now your house has been Simon's safe place. He has his own bed in what you tell others is the guest room, but several years back you decorated it in Simon's favorite colors with little touches to help him feel grounded. The kitchen cupboard has his favorite tea, and the crisps he likes are always in the pantry. He has a key to the front door and knows he's always welcome no matter the time, so he thinks nothing of slipping in after midnight, finally back from a solo mission, his humanity hanging on by a thread.

Of course John hears the door the moment the lock rolls back on its tumblers, Simon's heavy tread carrying quietly in the still air. He tries to get out of bed without waking you, but you never sleep well when he's not there, so you notice immediately. Bleary eyes find his as he stands half in the doorway, says, "Simon's just got in. Going to go check on him."

You nod as John slips out of your room. He had given you what few details he could about Simon's mission while the other man was gone. You worried about him, how big a toll this would take on him. So moment after John leaves, you slowly climb out of bed, slip into your robe, quietly pad down the hall. You can hear your husband's low rumble and a sound that rocks you. Crying. You don't think it's John, the timbre's off, but despite hearing it, you struggle to believe Simon is crying.

You didn't believe there was anything that could ever make his lieutenant - the Ghost - cry.

You ease the door open, catching Simon so very human. Broken. Hunched over, head between his knees, hands clasped tight behind his neck. He's still in most of his gear. He must have come straight from transport. John rubs his hand up and down Simon's back, but the man barely reacts. He doesn't seem to realize John's there.

Both go suddenly still at the change in the air when you come into the room.

"Simon," you whisper. Like your husband, you want to comfort him. Unlike your husband, this isn't something you've offered before, not a comfort Simon's been allowed.

You kneel in front of him, gently reaching out for a boot. In the thin light from the window, deft fingers pick apart knots so the boots are easier to slip off. First one then the other thuds to the floor behind you. You run gentle hands up his chest, unclipping the tac vest. John pulls it off Simon's shoulders. Shirt and trousers follow, the two of you working seamlessly, silently to help Simon shed Ghost. When he's down to just his pants, you slip your fingers under the edge of his mask.

"Is this okay?" Your whisper feels like a shout in the darkness.

Simon grunts and dips his chin further into your palm. You take it as permission, pulling the knit up and off. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you run your thumb through the eye black. You can't say what possesses you to do it, but you lean forward and drop little kisses on Simon's eyelids.

When they flutter open, it's like seeing directly into Simon's soul. The brown cracked with pain and desperation. A fear too big to name.

You stand, reaching one hand down to John and the other to Simon. John comes willingly, no questions. Simon needs reassurance. "It's okay, Simon. You're safe here. We've got you," you tell him. You have no idea how much you sound like John did all those years ago. It's that echo alone that allows Simon to follow you back to the room you share with his Captain.

John understands your intent immediately, ushering first you then Simon into the bed. You slide into your usual space against the wall, holding the covers up as Simon stiffly joins you. He lays on his back, ramrod straight, as John sinks into the mattress on his other side. The hand next to Simon fumbles a moment, finding his, and interlacing your fingers together. Your other hand comes to rest on Simon's chest. You curl towards John and he towards you, one hand covering yours over Simon's heart. You breathe slowly, pressing the rhythm ever so slightly into Simon's lungs.

Tension is thick for a moment. Two. Three. By ten, Simon is breathing in time with you, shuddering as silent tears slip out. Lips brush his cheek as you whisper again, "We've got you."

You do. And he knows in his bones you always will.

[tobioapple]

BABY JUST MAKE ME CUM, AND DON’T MAKE A SOUND! ; ur fav + videotaping

notes: hi!! apple here, this is a short drabble before i post something longer im working on, i hope you can forgive any mistakes since i'm not a fluent english speaker, just a gooner with a dream. Reblog and like if you enjoy! I got a lil lazy at the end sorry and also I couldn't wait for my beta reader I just wanted to publish this so m sorry

C.W: blowjobs, fem!reader, creampies, breeding kink, raw sex, pet-naming, dubcon (if you squint)

Guys that tape your faces as they’re fucking your throat, balls crashing onto your chin while the most obscene of noises fill the place, echoing within the four walls of your shared bedroom. He loves to pinch at your nose, making you choke and gag around his cock, stealing groans from his lips. 

He’s so sure there is nothing more beautiful than your face all covered in tears and spit, eyes glossy and makeup all messed up due to how his tip hits at the very back of your throat, bruising it harshly. He has to capture this; it would be a shame not to when you’re looking all pretty for him. He reaches for his phone, focusing the lens just right to capture every single part of you.

You look at the camera, half-lidded doe eyes. as you pull away from him, a small smirk tugs at your face, your head tilting to the right as if asking him what was on his mind.

“What? Can’t a man frame his girl taking it like a dumb cockwhore?” He is clearly having the time of his life, and you can’t help but rub your thighs together to his words. You were a slut for him. “Might as well just send this to those boys that hover around you like dogs in heat lookin’ for a fleshlight to put their dicks in. Would you like that?” You shake your head in disagreement and he just nods “Then, be good and make me finish, will ya?”

So, with nothing but pliancy you take a breath and mouth his girth, obeying his command. It doesn’t take long until he's panting, and so you remain still, letting him mouthfuck you to his liking, only existing to pleasure him. His fingers grip at your hair harshly, his motions becoming more deliberate, desperate to get rid of the gnawing sensation plaguing his throbbing member. Finally, after a few, you can feel the thick liquid spilling all over your tongue. His hand seizes your jaw dominantly, tilting it enough to make you face the camera, “Show ‘em, love” he mutters– with that singular demand, you shamelessly extend your tongue, displaying his spill to the camera, letting the world see the filthy remnants of your actions.

 “You might be even nastier than I am.”

TSUKISHIMA, noya, ATSUMU, shoyo, matsukawa, Keishin, TOJI, shiu kong, todo, megumi, EREN, bertholdt. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Men who focus the way he stretches you out, sure that, at the right angle, he will catch your belly bulging from taking him. He’d choke some cries out of you, insisting that he is not that big to make you whine like that, but still, everytime the tip of his cock crashes against your bruised cervix you cannot do anything else but moan and beg him to go easier. He never complies – At least not until you mutter your safe word, of course. –

He enjoys grinding the head of his cock against your clit, getting you all wet so he can easily slide in, the feeling of his thick girth smashing your walls making you back arch in ecstasy. You’re so tight, and so hungry for him, it’s like your cunt wants to swallow him all. 

He slows down, thrusting way deeper into you, every hit of his balls on your aching sex stealing soft whines out of your lips and when you turn your face to him and smile into the camera, fucked stupid, he can’t help the way he twitches inside of you, pumping every drop of his sperm in your pussy.

“such a good girl, taking it like a champ, look at the camera. Will ya?” so you fix your half lidded eyes onto the lens, obeying orders, he asks. “You like this, don’t you? acting like a whore on video?” and so you nod. You were his own camgirl, and he loved every second of it. 

Daichi, OIKAWA, kuroo, USHIJIMA, semi, IWAIZUMI, kyotani, GOJO, higurama, sukuna, jean, CONNIE, levi. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Loves to flip you over, on all fours, your hips up as he reaches for the camera of his phone, focusing on the way his discharge pumps out of you, leaving the soft skin around your thighs wet and sticky.

“Aw, you’re so full.” He mumbles, you nod. “We cannot let it all go to waste, right? You wouldn’t want that, wanna have a belly full of my babies, don’t you, doll?” He doesn’t need you to reply, the clenching of your folds telling him everything he needs to know.

His index finger teases your entrance slowly, playing with his own seed before pushing it inside you, making sure not one drop of him escapes. He can swear that just the sight of you, trembling and crying from the overstimulation, will make him burst again, but once again the idea of finishing anywhere else that is not you stops him.

“There you go, angel, all yours.”

ATSUMU, tobio, sugawara, asahi, tendo, lev, GETO, nanami, choso, itadori, ARMIN, ERWIN. °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

[breakindishesinaelevator]

Invincible & Blue Diamond!Reader

^^pov you nuzzling mark

(yes these will be put in parts)

these bbls killin yall 🥀🥀

i never really watched steven universe so ive been doing super duper research and hope i got the idea of her character right

and this might just be platonic rather than romantic idk

if theres any romance in this it might be cecil and/or nolan

1.5k words tho i might be a beast (/j 🥀)

fic under the cut :P

“Mark, there’s some kind of giant that’s causing tsunamis, hurricanes, and some real fucked up storms up on the west coast. It’s also abducting people at random! I need you to go and settle this immediately! Before more lives are lost and more people go missing!”

Cecil’s voice cuts out from the comm in Mark’s ear. Mark sighed, he was enjoying his time chatting and having a nice barbecue with his friends. Rolling his shoulders and stretching out his limbs, Mark stands, preparing himself for what could be a possible fight.

“Well! See you guys later, I guess.”

Mark makes a move to walk away from the group before Eve speaks up.

“Another mission from Cecil? God, he can’t give you a break, can he? I mean, you just got back from those two bank robbers who do the same shit every week. What is it now?”

Putting her hand on her hip, Eve is very unhappy with how Cecil is overworking Mark. She stepped away from the team to do her things to help the world and stop being badgered around by the old fart. Why couldn’t Mark do the same? Sure, he needs to get his mind off of things after what happened with his dad, but he needs to know his limits…

“Some… giant on the west coast… Nothing big! Nothing I can’t handle. It’ll be quick! I’ll- I’ll be back for some more wings though!”

Mark’s expression goes from confident to a bit nervous. Yeah, he’s been in this hero business for about a year and a half, but giants were still a bit troublesome to him. Preparing to take off soaring into the sky, he stops after Rex speaks up.

“Hey, man! Why don’t we come and help!”

“Oh- no that’s not- you don’t have to…”

Rex gets up, a big stupid grin on his face. Placing his hands on his civilian clothes, he explodes them into his hero suit.

“If the giant is nothing big then we could come with and wrap things up quickly and have a long time needed beach vacation! We could beat that giant and tan in the sand afterward! And if Cecil needs the Guardians, then fuck him! He can have Samson and Immortal help him out!”

Monster Girl giggles, getting up along with Rudy. Rae smiles, standing up as well, and placing her hands on her hips.

“That’s not a bad idea. I’m so down for a beach day!”

“Then it’s settled! Robot! Fire up your little doohickey and let’s go take down a giant!”

The others exclaim in agreement and preparing for the trip over to California, Mark smiles warmly. He is so happy to have some hero friends like them. Even if they’ve had their arguments and scuffles from time to time (mostly from Rex), he’s still grateful to have allies and friends with them.

————————————————————————

Sighing, you look down at the tiny humans running rampant. Scanning everyone as much as you could, one caught your eye. Is that who you’re looking for? Reaching your hand out, you grab the human’s arm, dragging him up towards you.

The human screams out in pain as his shoulder dislocates from your handling. Dangling him in front of your hooded face, he looked close to who you were looking for. Mustache and seemingly young. It has to be him. It has to be Nolan. He’s probably the closest one you’ve found so far, along with the other 34 humans you’ve caught.

Humming, you move to put him in the bubble you have trailing behind you. A bubble that contains the aforementioned other 34 humans you’ve taken. The bubble wasn’t super uncomfortable for them— it contained little rock formations you found, along with fruits and fountains that could prove useful to them ever if they needed it.

Before you could place him in the bubble, you hear a whizzing sound, then boom! The human is gone!

“Wh-what?”

Flipping around, you search for him, before locking eyes on some pink figure floating a couple of yards in front of you. The same pink figure is holding your human.

You reach out to take him back from the random figure before the pink figure begins to fly towards the shore. Panicking a bit, you move through the ocean and follow her.

“Give him back!”

Now being closer to shore, you’re also closer to the flying pink thing. Reaching out once more, you flinch back as some sort of projectile hits your hand, blowing up on impact.

Whipping over to see what that was, you see a bunch of humans on, what looks to be a flying rubbish contraption, another projectile is thrown at you. The human throwing them laughing maniacally, obviously getting a kick out of hitting you with the explosives.

Grunting and getting annoyed very quickly, you watch the contraption fly around you. A robot on the contraption begins shooting beams at you, not like it was doing anything to you, just irritating you more. And as if those things weren’t annoying enough, some green ogre thing jumped off and gave you a mean left hook to the face before landing back on the contraption.

“Grrngh- enough!”

Swatting the contraption out of the air, the humans (and robot) rush off of it in order not to get injured. You reach out to grab them but then, the pink thing comes back, wrapping some kind of pink rope around you. Struggling to move, you get ready to break out of it before another flying being, this time a male, comes at you with a right hook. The force of it knocks you down completely. You gasp, knowing only one being who had that kind of strength.

Now down on the ground, bound by the pink bonds from the pink figure, you look up at what brought you down.

“Nolan?”

Gasping heavily, a blue aura comes from your body in waves, causing the ocean to stir and also causing the heroes in front of you to weep profusely. Tears coming down your face as well.

With Eve now feeling immense sadness, her powers begin to weaken. She looks to the others as they’re now groveling in the sand sobbing. Even Rex! She looks out to the coastline and sees the waves crashing into each other and coming to the shore in big waves. Gasping and looking back to Mark, she sees him staggering in the air, feeling the effects of the giant woman’s power as well. Not as much as them though, due to his Viltrumite genes.

Before the waves could sweep up her and the team and possibly drown them, she used the last of her strength to gather the team and fly them out of the giant’s range so they could recuperate.

“Mark! W-we’ll come back-! Urgh-!”

Mark nods to her in acknowledgment and understanding and Eve takes off with the team. Seeing that they’re gone, Mark flings himself at you, hoping that another few punches would make you stop inflicting this feeling on him and any possible person within a 30-mile radius.

Getting closer and closer to you, he reels his hand back mustering whatever strength he could into his fist. He is stopped though, your hands immediately clasping around him, bringing him closer to your face. Your hood coming down, Mark could see your face in full clarity and the giant tears that were treading from your eyes. You were… ethereal…

“Nolan! I finally have you back!”

Through your tears, you smile greatly, your aura intensifying and your waves getting bigger. Mark looks at you in confusion, his head tilting.

“What?”

Bringing him closer to your face, you nuzzle your cheek against him. Your ginormous tears almost drowning him, he sputters trying to find air. You pull him away from your face a little, fully taking in his appearance before gasping.

“You look worse than ever! In what universe could that possibly be fine?!”

Now bellowing loudly, you crunch over on your knees, sobbing.

“I’ve waited thousands of years for you to come back… Now look at you… Weak… Frail… How can you come back to Homeworld looking like this?”

Oh… The giant woman thinks Mark is his father. …Awkward. Mark squirms uncomfortably. You’re a bit calmer now though. Your saddening aura lessening substantially. The tears on Mark’s face slow down but yours still go. Mark’s vision beginning to clear up, and he finally got a good enough look at you. Long hair, long lashes, blue skin, curvy. Damn. He quickly tried to speak about the moment on hand. The unnatural disasters and the abducted people. But, the only thing on his mind right now is how you know his father and what your relations are with him.

“Uh- The- Where’s-? I’m not- Well- I don’t-“

You place a giant finger on his lips, shushing him.

“No, no. Don’t speak. You must save your voice and energy for the trial.”

“Trial? What trial?”

“Why, yours, of course.”

What. What’d his father do this time?!

[chuuyasheaven]

“Take it all f’me.. that’s it, just like that baby.”

notes : idk I just came up with this last minute, a very quick drabble JUST for y’all ❤️

tags : chuuya n. / afab! reader, oral sex (eating out), fingering, dirty talk, basically pussy worship if u squint, praise, SHORT, uhhh idk, chuuya is a munch 🙂‍↕️, pet names (doll ; baby), slight cussing, grammar, etc.

“God, I’ll never get tired of this.”, Chuuya groaned lowly while being in between your thighs, eating you out like his life depended on it. All you could reply with was a moan, your back arching off the bed as he immediately dugged back into it, devouring your arousal like it was the only thing keeping him alive. “F-fuck— Chuuya.. mm—!”, you moaned out, your eyes shut as he continues to eat you out like a man starved. “Yeah, moan out my name like that, baby.. lemme hear how good I’m makin’ you feel.”, he didn’t have to tell you twice, you’ve been doing this ever since he started.

The longer he kept eating you out like this, so needy and messy, the knot inside your stomach began to tighten. “Chuuya, I-I’m— ah!”, you tried telling him you were getting close but couldn’t form any sentences without moaning in between, which didn’t seem to matter since he knew what you were trying to say. “You gettin’ close, doll?”, he asked in a low whisper, pressing a quick kiss onto your clit, making you shiver slightly. “Fuck, you’re makin’ me so hard right now..”, the way he growled that right against your pussy made you tremble under his grasp, making him smirk yet also twitch in his pants. “You want me to make you cum, baby?”, you nodded before he even got to finish his sentence, making him chuckle deeply. Then he pulled his mouth away from your cunt, making you whine at the loss while he licked his mouth clean.

Before you could ask why he stopped, he pushed two fingers inside you, making sure that they were deep inside. “Chuuya!”, you sharply gasped out, grabbing onto the sheets while throwing your head back. “Hm, such a good girl, takin’ my fingers so well.”, his fingers weren’t even moving slowly, they were appearing and disappearing fast. Your moans grew louder and higher as you started to chase your orgasm meanwhile Chuuya kept on mumbling dirty things and praises to you.

“Take it all f’me.. that’s it, just like that, baby.”

“Look at you, you love my fingers so fuckin’ deep inside you, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck.. if you’re takin’ my fingers so good, imagine how good my cock will feel, doll.”

And it didn’t take long after for you to cum on his fingers, moaning out his name in bliss as he sure that he definitely just came in his underwear just from the sight.

if you couldn’t tell, this was rushed 💔💔

[cosmerelists]

Should You Copy These Cosmere Characters' Homework?

[Teacher voice] Of course, you should NEVER actually copy someone's homework, but... if you WERE going to copy someone's homework and you happened to be in the same class as these Cosmere characters, would it be a good idea to copy their homework in particular?

1. Dalinar: No

You tried it once. Dalinar told you that it's okay to fail sometimes, as long as you do better next time. Then he patted you on the shoulder and walked away. It was a little bit infuriating.

2. Elend: Yes

You know Elend's the smart kid in school. And he does kinda like to disobey authority too... As long as the teacher is a jerk, you should be safe asking Elend to help you pull one over on her.

3. Nale: No

Nale not only won't let you copy his homework, but he's telling the teacher you tried.

4. Renarin: Yes

If you ask Renarin if you can copy his homework, he'll end up helping you finish the homework instead. Not what you asked for or expected, but hey. At least it's done. The weird part is that he seemed like he was expecting this...

5. Painter: Sure

If you venture into the oddly dark corner where Painter is sitting and ask if you can borrow his homework, he'll say something like, "So...you were desperate enough to come to me?" But actually, his homework is pretty okay. He didn't pour his heart & soul into this assignment or anything, but that is a solid C right there.

6. Breeze: No

Breeze was kinda hoping to copy your homework so, you know, it's a little awkward now.

7. Siri: No

Siri also didn't do the homework. She's doing it right now, as fast as she possibly can, and she doesn't really have time for you at the moment.

8. Tress: Yes

Tress will want to help out, and her homework is gonna be in good shape, too. She also told you that she noticed you've seemed extra stressed and sad lately, so she made you this blueberry muffin. Y-You just met her last week!

9. Taravangian: No

There are only two ways this can play out. Either he says yes right away but the homework is horribly incorrect, or he says no and you just know that homework is perfect. There's no winning with this guy.

10. Shai: If you can afford it...

Shai has several copies of the homework, each different. Seriously, different handwriting, slightly different mistakes, different food stains....It's downright elaborate. She does charge a lot of money for one, though.

11. Steris: No

Steris' homework is done. It's perfect. But she's not gonna let you copy it, so.

12. Adolin: Yes

Adolin's homework won't be perfect (for one thing, he can't read), but he'd still be happy to help out. It's probably kinda correct, right?

13. Vivenna: No

I mean, you can try, but she's keeping it covered and glaring at you with a truly terrifying expression.

14. Kaladin: No!

You'll give the poor guy a crisis of conscience! He'll want to help you because you're in need, but he won't want to help you because helping you would be cheating. Don't do that to our boy.

15. Shallan: Sure!

Shallan studies hard, and she doesn't judge. Just...ignore the weird drawing in the margin of the many-headed beasts consuming the world. I-It probably means nothing!

16. Moash: No

Moash will give you all the wrong answers. He'll happily fail this assignment if it means taking you down too!

17. Jasnah: No

The look she gives you when she calmly asks, "Oh, did you not do the homework?" will haunt you for weeks. It's just not worth it, man!

18. Sarene: It's risky...

With Sarene, you never can tell whether her homework will be pristinely correct...or whether she'll give you the most ridiculous joke-answers that will make your teacher hand back your paper with that really sad frowny face on it.

S-She still got 100%, though! Did she give you decoy homework??

[harpsinfinity]

hi hello!! may I request an office au of rookie leon with some smut? we‘re a rank higher than him and he‘s so whipped that he‘s willing to get on his knees if y/n asks + a specific scene where we‘re both working late and alone in the office then y/n tugs on leon‘s tie and one thing leads to another and he’s super super submissive mweheheh >:)

You're an evil genius I LOVE IT

As the manager, it was one of your main priorities to make sure every report was sent out to where it needed to be. In perfect form and on time

Enter Leon, secretly your favourite employee around the office. He always brought you coffee, he somehow memorised your order. His reports were always perfect, sent where they needed to be before the due date

He was the model employee

Little did you know he had a big fat crush on you, he wanted to feel guilty, ashamed that he was absolutely whipped for his boss. But whenever you entered the room, those feelings melted away

Just a single stare from you could bring him to his knees, be your good boy. It was embarrassing how everytime he laid his eyes on you, he popped a boner and had to take care of himself in the bathroom. His face flushed red as he came out

Tonight was another late night in the office, just you and Leon working to get a big project finished for corporate.

11:47pm

Damn, it was really getting late. And the two of you were exhausted and wanting to throw in the towel.

"I don't suppose there's much left is th-"

"done !"

Leon interjected, the bright screen of the computer glowing in his face

"we're good to go, all finished"

He grinned, spinning his chair to face you.

You were amazed, he really was your best worker in the office. And, he really deserved a reward. Didn't he? A reward for always going above you beyond

You sit in the chair facing him as you spoke

"Leon, I've got to say. You are my most hardworking individual here"

You notice his cheeks heat up, a bashful look playing on his features. a smirk gracing your lips as a flustered

"thank you"

Tumbles from his lips

You slip a hand around his tie, tugging him forward like a dog on a lead. Your other hand places itself on his thigh

"you deserve a reward"

You mutter, his lips now centimetres from yours. Your hand trailing further up his thigh, feeling the already growing bulge

"i-is this even allowed?"

He stuttered and fumbled over his words, only making him more flustered and cute.

"surely it can stay between us, can't it?"

Leon muffles a whimper as you begin to palm him through his pants

"just a hard working employee being rewarded by his boss"

one thing led to another,

Your head ended up in his lap, sucking the life out of him. The whines and pants of the man above you had you dripping. But this wasn't about you, it was about him. Your favourite worker

His hips bucked every time the sensitive tip of him hit the back of your throat, a sharp whimper following suit. A string of pleas and praises seeping from his drool coated lips

You could tell his mind was swimming, swimming with nothing but the thoughts of you. How long he'd stroked himself raw imagining it was your hand instead of his, whispering into his ear to guide him into nothing but bliss

You replace your mouth his your hand, pumping him at a maddening pace while your rested your cheek on his thigh

"such a good boy for me"

you cooed, having the satisfaction of feeling his cock twitch and throb at every praise you gave him.

"ohh- fuck! please don't stop, pleasepleaseplease!"

A grin played on your lips, he was so desperate. So sensitive and eager for you, his boss. Hearing him yelp every time your thumb rubbed at the slit of him

It didn't take long for him to spill all over your hand, his chest heaving and eyes glossy as he entered a blissful, pleasure drunk haze

It also didn't take long for him to end up balls deep inside of you, bouncing on his still sensitive cock like no tomorrow

Your lips on his as you gave him the best reward you could

"y-you feel- ngh! so- so good !"

You rode him until he was sniffling, tears of esctacy staining his cheeks. coming inside of you felt better than over your hand, sending dizzying shockwaves up his spine in bursts that exploded in his stomach.

The following day in the office, it was difficult to meet your eye. And everyone gave you suspicious looks when you pulled Leon into your office by the time when he came to give you his reports.

Only leaving your office an hour later with disheveled clothes and a plethora of lipstick marks on his cheeks, jaw and neck

[urbaebarnes]

Ok but since Thunderbolts is coming out soon, how about something where Reader is either his campaign manager, or secretary, or like his handler when he makes appearances and somehow Bucky trusts her more than anyone else on his staff, so he invites her as his plus one to the Gala.

If you want to make it angsty/throw in some action, you could have Valentina sabotage his date at the gala by slipping something in her drink or having her goons tail reader home afterwards. 👀👀👀

Anyway, hope this gives you some inspiration! No pressure to use this tho

AHHHH i actually lysm for this!! thank you for sending me this and basically i got carried away so i'm gonna be splitting this up into like 2/3 different parts which should be out soon!

anyway i basically have the first half of the request in here and the rest will be in the next one! i love love love this idea so much and the new pictures that came out of him in thunderbolts has me in a chokehold like okay we see u babes

also i know very little about UK politics and even lass about US and my limited knowledge of media officers all comes form F1 so this probably makes no sense if your a professional in any of them but shhh its okay we move

Two Hearts: part 1

congressman bucky barnes x pr manager fem reader warnings: no use of y/n, she/her pronouns used, probably curse words (maybe not idk) word count: 1.3k words

You’d started out as his PR manager, for the first few months, that’s all you were to him, and he swore by that, he really did. But somewhere along the way, you’d become something much more, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It didn’t start when you first entered the office, you were a breath of fresh air to the mundane office, but you were just new. Your desk was filled with little trinkets colourful sticky notes plastered over the frame of your computer monitor. But all Bucky thought was that you were sweet.

But then you had to start coming places with him, and doing interviews just off camera so he could look to you for help, and all of a sudden your sweetness became a buoy, something to desperately grasp onto as he felt he was sinking into the depths of the interviewer's questions. Even if you didn’t need to step in, your presence was always calming enough that he knew exactly how to handle it, a situation he’d found himself in too few a time in his life.

So what, you became something along the line of a friend for him, someone he could confide in and sort of trust. Which meant a lot coming from a man who spent months trying to let goddamn Sam in, and you did it within a few weeks.

Somehow throughout the campaign, he couldn’t stop himself from letting you weasel yourself into the list of his most dearest. Between your reassuring smiles and little gifts and honestly just you, Bucky felt like you could very possibly be his person. Sometimes you could just be there and it would put the tiniest of smiles on his face, sending you a little wave across a crowded bar- and yeah Sam would take the piss out of him for it, but he’d gotten past Sam’s endless teasing a while ago.

That bar had become a weird sort of crossover point for your and Bucky’s life outside of work. Sometimes you’d sit with your friend when you finished a little earlier or occasionally a group, Bucky noted he never saw you with a boyfriend but wasn’t really sure why his brain would even think that. He and Sam would meet there after long days at work and oftentimes, you and your friends would be regulars in the crowded building, lazing by the bar as you drank together.

You’d never talk to each other in there, but it seemed that the other was constantly in your eyeline, always watching, subtly checking in. But after a few of these nights, Bucky couldn’t stop his eyes wandering to your figure all night. Sam was twittering about something or another, and he tried to focus, he really did, but how was he supposed to do that when you were sat a few seats away, looking so captivating.

Sam had stopped talking halfway through, not that Bucky had noticed, and instead started laughing as he watched the unusually stone cold exterior of his friend crumble as he longingly stared at your back. “Dude, you're whipped!” He’d managed to get out between his breathless laughs.

Sam’s words had managed to catch his attention, gaze flicking from you to him as the words set in and his brow furrowed. “What- I’m not-”

Despite his protests and insistent denials of having any sort of interest in you in that way, Bucky Sam persisted and eventually, it took more energy to deny it than let Sam have his fun - or at least that’s what Bucky said to himself. And sure that little flutter in his chest he felt whenever you smiled felt as if it grew every single goddamn day, he still couldn’t quite bring himself to admit that he had a crush on you.

But even if he did, it would be wrong and immoral, he was trying to represent a need for change, present to the country why he could be trusted, and you were supposed to help, not make him fall into some strange tango of emotions with you. But you did, and it wasn’t your fault, he didn’t think he could fault you for the goddamn end of the world if you caused it.

So when he needed a plus one to a gala, you were the only logical answer. He trusted you above everybody else who worked with him, and maybe he wanted an excuse to see you outside of your office or press conference or interview rooms. Bucky wanted a glimpse of you he’d seen at the bar with your friends, he just wanted a taste of the life he wished he could have with you.

Your office was a place he’d enjoyed being in more and more as the past few months had occurred. The photo frames on your desk were scattered and everything had a slight messiness that brought a feeling of coziness. He’d often find reasons to linger in there, so it wasn't out of character when he appeared one day.

“Morning.” You greeted him with a smile after his polite knocks, sipping on your coffee, one hand wrapped around your kermit the frog mug whilst typing out an email to a news agency with your other. Bucky had nodded, he was usually less talkative in the mornings -which you’d taken a note of to move any media prep to the afternoons. You blew on the steaming mug before tilting your head, “You good?”

He’d sat himself on the sage green couch tucked in the corner of the room and smiled softly at you before relying. “I have a question for you.”

Immediately, you placed your mug on the coaster and stopped typing, letting your arms cross over the wooden desk, elbow brushing the wrapper of one of those breakfast bars you liked so much. He’d made sure to stock up the kitchen after finding out your habit of snacking on them. “Ask away.”

Now, Bucky Barnes wasn’t generally a nervous man,or at least not when it came to women, but you managed to make it seem like asking you to be his +1 was a life or death event, as though the decision itself would alter the way the earth spins on its axis. Which to him, it may well have.

Bucky avoided your eyes, glancing just past your head at the drapes that were tied beside your large windows looking out into the city. “That gala I have to go to next month, the fundraising one, I don’t- erm…”

You let out a sigh as you leant forward on your arms, lips pursed. “Bucky, you have to go. It’s too late now, I can’t get you out of it, if you’d told me a few days ago then maybe but-”

“No, no, you have it wrong.” He quickly interrupted, shaking his head, “No, I was going to say that I don’t have a plus one, and I would be really grateful and forever in your debt if you’d possibly…” He trailed off again, scrunching his nose and finally meeting your eyes, “Go with me?”

You blinked once.

Then twice.

And finally a third time before you managed to move your head, looking behind you out the window once before looking back at him. “What? You want me to-?” You stopped abruptly, seeing the serious look on his face, his eyes looking straight at you, as though reading your mind.

You’d wondered if he had that superpower a few times before, especially when you first started, which would’ve been a nightmare seeing as at the beginning of your role here, you struggled to hold yourself up when around him. Bucky Barnes was -to put it simply- gorgeous. Everything you’d ever looked for in a man was right in front of you in the body of your boss, and if he could read minds, well you’d ruled that out seeing as you most likely would’ve been fired by now.

Your voice lowered as a small smile made its way onto your lips, knowing it probably meant nothing, but at the same time, it meant everything to you. “If you’d like me to, I’d love to.”

[tavolgisvist]

‘I’ve had enough’

I’d been keeping largely quiet about John and The Beatles split-up in the press. I didn’t really have many accusations to fling, but being John, he was flinging quite a few in interviews [with Jann Wenner for Rolling Stone]. <…> John would say things like, ‘It was rubbish. The Beatles were crap.’ Also, ‘I don’t believe in The Beatles, I don’t believe in Jesus, I don’t believe in God’ [Plastic Ono Band album]. Those were quite hurtful barbs to be flinging around, and I was the person they were being flung at, and it hurt. So, I’m having to read all this stuff, and on the one hand I’m thinking, ‘Oh fuck off, you fucking idiot,’ but on the other hand I’m thinking, ‘Why would you say that? Are you annoyed at me or are you jealous or what?’ <…> I was sort of answering him here [Dear Friend], asking, ‘Does it need to be this hurtful?’ I think this is a good line: ‘Are you afraid, or is it true?’ meaning, ‘Why is this argument going on? Is it because you’re afraid of something? Are you afraid of the split-up? Are you afraid of my doing something without you? Are you afraid of the consequences of your actions?’ And the little rhyme, ‘Or is it true?’ Are all these hurtful allegations true? This song came out in that kind of mood. It could have been called ‘What the Fuck, Man?’ but I’m not sure we could have gotten away with that then.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present)

“When I slagged off the Beatle thing in the papers, it was like divorce pangs, and me being me it was blast this and fuck that, and it was just like the old days in the Melody Maker, you know, ‘Lennon Blasts Hollies’ on the back page. You know, I’ve always had a bit of a mouth and I’ve got to live up to it. Daily Mirror: ‘Lennon beats up local DJ at Paul’s 21st birthday party’. <…> “So y’see, all that happened when I blew my mouth off was that it was an abscess bursting, except that mine as usual burst in public. <…> …the trouble is people just wanted bigmouth Lennon to shout about the lows. So I made a quick trip to uncover the hidden stones of my mind, and a lot of the bats flew and some of them are going to have to stay. I’ve got perspective now, that’s a fact.

(John Lennon, interview with Ray Coleman for Melody Maker: Lennon – a night in the life, September 14th, 1974)

John actually had Allen Klein and Yoko in the room, suggesting lyrics during writing sessions. In his song ‘How Do You Sleep?’ the line ‘The only thing you done was yesterday’ was apparently Allen Klein’s suggestion, and John said, ‘Hey, great. Put that in.’ I can see the laughs they had doing it, and I had to work very hard not to take it too seriously, but at the back of my mind I was thinking, ‘Wait a minute, All I ever did was “Yesterday”? I suppose that’s a funny pun, but all I ever did was “Yesterday”, “Let It Be”, “The Long and Winding Road”, “Eleanor Rigby”, “Lady Madonna”, . . . – fuck you, John.’

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present)

['How Do You Sleep']’s not serious. Like, if Paul was really, really hurt by it, I’ll soo– I’ll know by the vibes, come round. Even if he doesn’t call, well, I’ll explain it to him. I’ll even write to him, you know. If he really really thinks it’s – thinks it’s really really serious. 

(John Lennon,September 9th, 1971, interview with Howard Smith)

Then we had that fight Paul and me had through the Melody Maker, but it was a period I had to go through.

(John Lennon, interview with Ray Coleman for Melody Maker: Lennon – a night in the life, September 14th, 1974)

As it happened, I was in New York that day [30 January 1972], having met with John the day before. It was a meeting at which we more or less agreed to stop sniping at each other.

(Paul McCartney, The Lyrics: 1956 to the Present)

On January 19, 1975 John Lennon in a letter to Derek Taylor: BOWIES CUTTIN “UNIVERSE” (LET IT BEATLE). AM A GONNA BE THERE (BY REQUEST OF COURSET). THEN POSSIBLEY DOWN TO NEW ORLEONS TO SEE THE McCARTKNEES.

(Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift (Genesis Publications, Guildford, 1984) in in The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

Mardi Gras season was due to begin on Monday, February 10, with the main parade sweeping through town on “Fat Tuesday” itself—the date John and May had targeted for their visit to New Orleans. Sehorn and Toussaint warned Paul that the studio would be inaccessible during the peak of the festivities, and said they were considering closing Sea-Saint completely for the week starting February 10. Wings now had the perfect excuse to put the sessions on hold and throw themselves into the celebratory atmosphere. But Paul’s hope of sharing that celebration with John were dashed during the overdubbing sessions on February 6, when John phoned Sea Saint and the receptionist patched his call through to the control room. “The separation didn’t work out,” Lennon joked, telling Paul that he had moved back to the Dakota on February 3—just as Paul was recording ‘Call Me Back Again,’ the song he started just after reconnecting with John in Los Angeles [March-April 1974]—and that he and Yoko were hoping to work things out.

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

‘I was going down to New Orleans to help out on Paul’s last album Venus and Mars, but I was too busy being happy at the time. If you’re reading this, Paul, I’m sorry I couldn’t make it…’

[…] And then, of course, there’s Yoko. ‘We are back together now. and happier than over before. It’s the old, old story—when you get someone back that you’ve lost it’s better than ever.’ It was the reconciliation which so involved John that he couldn’t tear himself away to work with McCartney in New Orleans.”

(John Lennon, 1975, interview with Penny Grant for Game: Enjoying the big apple)

Paul leaves to take a telephone call.

LINDA: I was just going to say that I think if John had lived, he might still be saying, “OH, I’m much happier now….” <…> PLAYBOY: But wasn’t it clear that John wanted only to work with Yoko? LINDA: No. I know that Paul was desperate to write with John again. And I know John was desperate to write . . . desperate. People thought, Well, he’s taking care of Sean, he’s a househusband and all that, but he wasn’t happy. He couldn’t write and it drove him crazy. And Paul could have helped him–easily.

(Paul and Linda McCartney, Dec.1984, interview with Joan Goodman for Playboy, 1984)

PLAYBOY: "Aside from the millions you've been offered for a reunion concert, how did you feel about producer Lorne Michaels' generous offer of $3200 for appearing together on 'Saturday Night Live'..?" LENNON: "Oh, yeah. Paul and I were together watching that show [April 26, 1976]. He was visiting us at our place in the Dakota. We were watching it and almost went down to the studio, just as a gag. We nearly got into a cab, but we were actually too tired." PLAYBOY: "How did you and Paul happen to be watching TV together?" LENNON: "That was a period when Paul just kept turning up at our door with a guitar. <…> …he and Linda walked in and he and I were just sitting there, watching the show, and we went, 'Ha-ha, wouldn't it be funny if we went down?' but we didn't."

(John Lennon, 1980, interview with David Sheff for Playboy)

Paul recounts the SNL story a few months after it happened

(audio)

Backstage after the first show [May 24, 1976] McCartney phoned his old songwriting partner at the Dakota. Paul had expected John not to attend, but hoped that he might*. He would miss the second show [May 25] too, because he and Yoko were flying to Los Angeles that day. “They said they were glad the show went well. And we left it at that,” Paul reported. John did, however, request a pair of tickets to the second show for Sean’s babysitter.

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

*Why it was so important (and John knew it)

During their trip [27-30 April 1977] the McCartneys were also hoping for a springtime reunion with John and Yoko and paid a surprise visit to the Dakota. But their timing was terrible: John and Yoko were busily preparing for an upcoming trip to Japan while also dealing with Sean as he approached the Terrible Twos. The McCartneys did not make it past the front door of Apartment 72.

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

It's ten years since I really communicated with him. I know as much about him as he does about me, which is zilch. About two years ago, he turned up at the door. I said, 'Look, do you mind ringin' first? I've just had a hard day with the baby. I'm worn out and you're walkin' in with a damn guitar!"

(John Lennon, The September 29th 1980 issue of Newsweek)

LENNON: "That was a period when Paul just kept turning up at our door with a guitar. I would let him in, but finally I said to him, 'Please call before you come over. It's not 1956 and turning up at the door isn't the same anymore. You know, just give me a ring.' He was upset by that, but I didn't mean it badly. I just meant that I was taking care of a baby all day and some guy turns up at the door… PLAYBOY: "Was that the last time you saw Paul?" LENNON: "Yes, but I didn't mean it like that."

(John Lennon, 1980, interview with David Sheff for Playboy)

PAUL: When Sean (John and Yoko's son) was first born, I visited him a few times at the Dakota (Lennon's apartment house in New York). And then it had gone snotty. I used to turn up without calling him. One time, he got annoyed with me. He said, 'Well, look, man… Why do you just keep turning up here and surprise us? Why don't you just call first?' And I took that the wrong way. After that, I don't think I did see him.

(Paul McCartney, spring of 1982, interview with Jim Miller for Newsweek)

That came about when I was just sitting around in the studio one day [May 5, 1977], doing rock ‘n’ roll kind of chords, just very simple bluesy kind of chords. And I just had the chorus. And the rest of it I used to just mumble. So we did it on the boat with me mumbling the vocal track and just shouting ‘I’ve had enough’ when it comes to the chorus. And I wrote some words to it and again we finished that off in London.

(Paul McCartney BBC Radio 1, 1978)

PLAYBOY: In most of his interviews, John said he never missed the Beatles. Did you believe him? PAUL: I don’t know. My theory is that he didn’t. Someone like John would want to end the Beatle period and start the Yoko period. And he wouldn’t like either to interfere with the other. As he was with Yoko, anything about the Beatles tended inevitably to be an intrusion. So I think he was interested enough in his new life to genuinely not miss us.

(Paul McCartney, Dec.1984, interview with Joan Goodman for Playboy, 1984)

Buchan [Alasdair Buchan of the Daily Mirror] pressed McCartney on John Lennon’s recent assertion that he had made his contribution to society and did not plan to work again. “He’s full of wind, isn’t he?” McCartney scoffed. “Maybe he isn’t going to work anymore, but it’s no skin off my nose. It’s really up to John. I’ve heard him talk like that before. . . . I think he must be very bored now.” [November 1977]

(Demos to roll off the Lennon production line during this period included ‘Real Love,’ ‘Now and Then,’ ‘Free as a Bird,’ ‘What Ever Happened To?’ and ‘She Is a Friend of Dorothy’s.’)

(The McCartney Legacy: Volume 2: 1974-1980 by Allan Kozinn and Adrian Sinclair, 2024)

PLAYBOY: "You say you haven't listened to Paul's work and haven't really talked to him since that night in your apartment…" LENNON: "Really talked to him, no, that's the operative word. I haven't really talked to him in ten years. Because I haven't spent time with him. I've been doing other things and so has he. You know, he's got 25 kids and about 20,000,000 records out. How can he spend time talking? He's always working."

(John Lennon, 1980, interview with David Sheff for Playboy)

…If I had known John was going to die I would not have been as stand-offish as I was. You know how people are in relationships. If someone tells you to piss off you say well piss off yourself then. You don’t realise that there may be pain and it’s very hard to say Jesus’s thing. You know – turning the other cheek. “OK, you can tell me to piss off but I still think you’re great”. If I knew John was going to die I would have made a lot more effort to try and get behind his mask and try and get a better relationship with him. As it was I think I did have a pretty good relationship with him but when he started slagging me off I was not prepared to say “well you’re quite right” because I’m human. <…> I just turned round and said piss off. Had I known it was going to be that final – that quick – I would not have said that. <…> That’s my regret really where I now see what I could have said, listen and put my arm round him…

(Paul McCartney, 1983, interview with Neil Tilly for fanzine BREAKOUT! (Issue 15) Aug/Sept 1983)

[magnetokisser]

ALL I CAN SAY IS I'M SORRY. (1/2)

request: hii! could you do a fic of mark grayson x reader? If you’ve watched s3 ep2, could you do where instead of mark having the earpiece hurting him, it was the reader? i wanna know how he’d react to that, maybe cecil done it since he’d know it would hurt mark emotionally more rather than doing it to mark himself.

a/n: im sorry i took so long to answer this! I was waiting until the final episode came out to binge everything, but then i kept getting tiktoks of the episodes and decided to ensue pain and agony a week earlier. I hope this fits what you had in mind! anyway this might be a two part idk! edit: I literally stayed up till 2:00 am to watch episode 8 and oh my god every season past this one is about to be actually like a punch in the gut. anyway this isn't exactly story line accurate but hey </3

summary: donald was cecil’s number one. you were his number two. you had known cecil stedman since you were a kid, well before he took title of president of the GDA. you had known no life outside of the GDA until you met mark grayson, aka invincible; but you hadn’t known him for long enough to question cecil’s word.

warnings: mark goes through more pain and agony, reader takes a resemblance to dc’s black canary, NOT PROOFREAD, cecil is ever so sneaky. cecil being a manipulative dih 🥀, reader is sheltered and oblivious. mark is kinda mean but reader is also selfish. probably will have a part two, mentions and descriptions of violence.

word count:1k~

the stone cold walls of the pentagon never comforted you, no matter how long you lived there. from the secret experiments to the constant world-threatening events, the building was never quiet. and whenever it was quiet.. you didn’t like it. it was unsettling, like something was always on the verge of blowing up, or something. but all of that changed when omni-man’s son got powers, and when omni-man caused the death of thousands during his attempt to get invincible to join his side. to make matters worse, cecil know that omni-man was lying from the moment he landed on this planet. he never did anything about him, and the citizens of chicago paid the price.

after that fateful day, your world tipped on it’s side. so, you started spending more time with invincible. not as a superhero, since cecil used what left of his power to forbid it, but as people. you enjoyed the time you spent with him, but you were sure you enjoyed him more. he was kind, more caring than anyone you had ever met (possibly aside from atom eve), and he liked you for you– not because you could scream louder than the highest frequency. 

so when angstrom levy attacked mark and his family, snapping debbie’s arm in two and hurting his baby brother, you could see a darkness in mark start to spread. it was amplified by the fact his father had a new family on an unknown planet as well. cecil was hiding things from mark, and while you knew, you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to talk to him about it. both in fear of losing his friendship, and losing everything you knew in the pentagon. so when cecil had called you into the white room telling you that the pentagon was under attack, you obeyed him like a dog.

“what’s going on?” you asked, standing behind him with furrowed brows. something about the older man was off; like he was scared. “invincible has gone rogue. he’s killed by guards, and i’m not sure if he’s going to kill me next.” he replied, his face hardening. this made you frown. 

“kill you?” you repeated, glancing between the ‘door’ to the white room and cecil. invincible? kill someone? it sounded wrong– it didn’t sound like mark at all. but you hadn’t talked to him in months, and the last you heard, he had killed angstrom levy.. but he hurt his family. you didn’t think killing him was entirely necessary, but if you had family, you’d be just as angry as mark was, too. 

“yes.” the older man turned to look at you, his face just as cold as ever. “wait for my signal. invincible isn’t in his right mind, and he’s here to attack me. attack us. when you see him, scream. scream as loud as you can.” he said, taking a few steps back and disappearing. you frowned in confusion. he never told you anything, just expected you to sit when told. 

for a few moments, there was silence. you looked around and sighed, unease settling in your nerves. suddenly, you could hear a loud racket in the hallway. grunting, crashes, and the noise was slowly getting closer. surely cecil was just lying, right? this was either a test or he was completely misreading mark. he wouldn't kill cecil, no matter how much he disliked the older man.

just as you were going to ask cecil to call whatever was going on off, mark– no, invincible burst into the room. though he was wearing his goggles, you could tell his eyes were on you. his shoulders were slightly hunched, and his breathing was ragged. he was angry, hurt– betrayed. “mark..?” you called out, taking a step towards him. “where is he?” he looked around, his breath coming out in short and loud gasps. “cecil? i can’t let you see him.” you shook your head, your lips curling into a small frown. 

“you’re protecting him?!” he exclaimed, his hands balling into fists. “if you would tell me what was going on, i’d tell you why! he hasn’t told me anything either!” you threw your hands out, feeling attacked. there was very clearly something wrong with mark, be it emotionally, physically, or mentally. “bullshit! you knew d.a. sinclair wasn’t in jail! you knew he was here, with cecil and you protecting him!” he pointed at you, causing you to look away for a moment. this, unfortunately, was true. you didn’t agree with it at all, but your own selfishness stopped you from letting anybody know. you fell silent following his accusation.

he scoffed, shaking his head as he took another step towards you. “you’re protecting a murderer, and someone who only wants to protect himself,” he growled. “show me where cecil is, and i’ll think about forgiving you.” 

luckily, or maybe unluckily, cecil stepped in for you. his hands were behind his back, and his gaze bore into mark. “there’s no need for that, mark.” he sighed. on command, about 5 reanimen appeared, surrounding mark. without giving him a chance to talk, mark ripped the reanimen to shreds. it was a scary resemblance to his father. “why would you even need these things?! d.a. sinclair and darkwing need to go to jail. they’re murderers!” he exclaimed, turning towards cecil covered in blood. 

“i need them for protection, mark.” cecil spoke, keeping up a calm front as more reanimen appeared. mark continued to fight them, and while they were doing damage, he was still taking them out. “protection from what?!” he asked, punching one of the reanimen out of the way. cecil frowned, his eyes narrowing as mark took another step towards him. 

“you, mark. i need them as protection from you.” 

mark paused and went still for a moment before his face contorted in anger once more. before you could register it, mark flew towards cecil, his hand wrapping around the older man’s throat. you knew he wasn’t trying to prove his point, but he was trying to deny it in the worst way possible. cecil looked towards you as he gasped for air, shaking his head. 

“mark..” you murmured, slowly making your way towards the two. mark looked at you, his grip on cecil loosening for a moment. “i’m sorry.” you whispered, sighing softly. you took a step back and screamed, letting out a supersonic call. mark dropped to the ground and writhed in pain, curling up into a ball. “that, mark, was y/n’s specialty. paired with your earpiece that’s too far into your brain to reach and a copy of the call that monster you fought, her scream can amplify that by tenfold.” he said, watching as mark got up. you didn’t think it would hurt him. you just assumed that he was literally invincible. but there was nothing you could say now. 

“you.. what?” mark stammered. cecil pressed a button, or something, and the void that was the white room disappeared, showing an army of reanimen. you looked around, feeling a mix of fear and shock. the two men kept talking as you looked around, not knowing what to think. this was getting to be too much for you. just as you tuned back into the conversation, mark tried to fly off, and cecil pressed a button to turn on the frequency. “cecil..” you frowned, talking a step towards him. 

“no, y/n. he needs to learn that his ego won’t get him anywhere. he could turn into his father any moment, and we– the entire planet would be defenseless.” he said, turning it off as he turned to you. “that doesn’t mean you have to hurt him! he hasn’t hurt anybody!” you exclaimed, throwing your arms out. 

while the two of you were arguing, mark made his escape. he left the white room and flew through the ceiling of the pentagon, cecil telling donald to tail mark and take him down before he was out of range. if there was one, at least. you were left standing in the white room with reanimen surrounding you, not knowing what to do. if cecil didn't trust mark, did he trust you? he already had his engineering team create earplugs that would block out your scream if needed, so were you really in the same boat as them, or were you in the same boat as mark.

stumbling out of the room, you made your way through the halls of the pentagon. there were two things you needed to do. get out of here, and find mark so you could apologize. maybe it was time you let go of cecil, anyway.

[wallofchynax]

Older!Shawn x 20s!Reader NSFW Alphabet Headcanons

aka part two to my other Shawn Michaels NSFW Alphabet

REQUESTS CURRENTLY CLOSED.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Shawn doesn't half ass aftercare. He's been around long enough to know fucking hard means that he's got to care for you harder aftrwards. When the adrenaline fades, he's tender. His hands are running slow strokes down your spine. He'll ease his fingers all over you, over any marks that's he's felt on you while pressing loving kisses against you. If you are both feeling lazy, he'll pull you against his chest and then let you rest against the head of his skin, whispering into your hair but he'll get a wet cloth and clean you up, working any tension out of your hips, back or legs. He just wants to make sure your okay before he pulls you to his chest and falls asleep with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Obsessed with your legs. Like, of course it's in a sexy way but he also needs to feel them around him at all times. He likes your thighs thick, soft, something that he can grab onto and sink his fingers into when your riding him. Just similarly, he likes how soft your skin is and how it feels under his much rougher hand, dragging over the smooth curve of your waist, the dip of your back, the roundness of your ass. He’ll palm your tits absentmindedly when you’re lying in bed, flicking his thumb over your nipple just to feel you shiver under his touch.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He finishes hard. Years of stamina, pent-up need make sure of that. He likes it messy, when he sees it drippiing out of your and when he smears it across your skin or dripping onto bed from your spent pussy. If he finishes inside of you, he won't move for a moment just to make your that his cum stays inside of you, loving the way your pussy flutters around him as you come down from your high. He loves watching it leak out, especially when when you spread your legs open as it just means he can push it back in with his fingers.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Shawn has been around, done things most men only dream of but his dirtiest secret? He wants to ruin you for anyone else.

It’s not just about fucking you, it’s about owning you in a way that lingers. He wants to be the name that flashes through your mind when someone else even tries to touch you. He wants every other man to feel inadequate in comparison, wants you to struggle not to bring him up when another guy asks what you like.

So he fucks you like it’s the last time, every time. He makes sure you feel him even after he’s gone, leaves your legs trembling, your body ruined, your thighs sticky from the mess he made of you. If he’s feeling really possessive, he’ll make you say it; make you tell him that no one else has ever fucked you like this, that no one else could ever come close.

And if you try to be cute? If you tease him, test him, hint that maybe you could find someone else?

He laughs, low and dark, before dragging his cock along your slick entrance, teasing you just to watch you squirm.

"That so, sweetheart? Guess I’ll just have to remind you who you belong to."

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Listen let's be real. He thrived in the wildest era in wrestling. He's done things, seen things and fucked in ways most men wouldn't have been able to dream of. However, there's a difference betwen a man who gets laid and a man who knows how to fuck. Shawnw didn't just do it. He mastered it. Years of learning what makes a body tick, what makes a woman melt underneath him, how to keep her coming back even when she's worn she's done. He knows all the tricks in the book.

Shawn can tell just by looking at you what you need. If you want it slow and deep, he'll take hia time and drag it out making you feel each stroke until you're begging for him. If you want it rough, he'll throw you down, grip your wrists and fuck you hard enough to make you cry. He knows where to touch you and how to angle his hips just right to make you see stars.

And he knows he's good. He watches you struggle to catch your breath and he knows your fucked out so he had the audacity to grin at you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He’s got the strength, the experience, and the stamina to take you in any way he wants but he has a few different. Missionary but not the slow kind -the one where he's got your legs hooked over his shoulders, your ass slightly lifted so he can drive himself into you at a perfect angle. He likes to see your face, watching your mouth fall open as he rocks into you. Loves the way your tits bounce with every rough snap of his hips, how your fingers reach back and clutch at the sheets or on his arms.

As much as he loves it when you wrap your legs around him, Shawn loves your ass. He loves the shape, the softness, the way it bounces when you ride him. He’ll lean back, hands gripping your hips as he lets you work, encouraging you with breathy groans, watching your body move for him. If you slow down? His hands tighten, he’ll guide you, make sure you take his cock the way he wants. And when you get close? He grabs you, slamming you down onto his cock, his hips meeting yours in brutal, perfect rhythm until you’re both a shaking, panting mess.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s not the type to be dead serious the entire time; he likes keeping things light, keeping you on your toes, keeping you blushing.

Before things get heated, he’ll be playful as hell. He’ll pin you down with that smug smirk, nipping at your neck while murmuring something ridiculous like;

"Damn, sweetheart, you looking at me like I’m Sunday dinner. You that hungry for me?"

He loves making you flustered, loves the way you roll your eyes but still react when he runs his hands down your waist, squeezing at your curves.

But when things really get going? That playfulness turns into calculated teasing. There’s always a moment when that teasing, cocky exterior cracks - when your body clenches tight around him, when your nails drag down his back, when you whimper just right—and suddenly, that smug bastard is groaning, gripping you tighter, and losing his rhythm. That’s when the jokes fade, when his teeth clench, when his movements turn desperate and rough, chasing that final, explosive high.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

His grooming is effortlessly manly, not overly pristine but not manly. He keeps it neat and tidy, trimmed enough to be clean but he's a grown ass man so he's not shaving himself completely clean. His happy trail is just faint enough that makes you want to follow it towards his thick and heavy cock. If you kiss your way down and run your tongue along it, you'll hear the deepest filthiest groan. You also love that he has facial hair. Enough to leave a faint burn on your thighs when he eats you out, enough to feel deliciously rough when he kisses down your stomach. If you tell him you like it? He just chuckles and murmurs, "That so, baby? Guess I’ll have to keep it for ya."

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He may be a cocky, teasing dominant bastard but he's lethal when it comes to intimacy. He knows how to make you feel cherished AND ruined all at once.

He doesn't just fuck you. He consumes you entirely. He kisses you like he means it. His hands never stop moving you, grabbing your hips, pulling you against him, needing your body and worshipping it just as you need him to. He looks into your eyes; dark with lust and full of something soft and meaningful. But intimacy with Shawn isn’t just about slow, deep strokes and whispered praises. Sometimes, it’s the tiny moments—the little things that make you realize how much he truly cares. The way he cups your face after making you cum hard, when he laughs softly against your neck peppering it with kisses, how even when he's spent, he still holds you against his chest keeping you close, constantly touching you even when he's falling asleep.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He is a grown man with a high sex drive and sometimes he does need to take matters into his own hand but often, it's because he's thinking of you. If you aren't there, he'll be leaned back in a chair or against the headboard of your bed fisting his cock slowly as his mind runs over filthy details about you. The way you sound, the way your tight heat clenches around him, the way your breath hitches when he sinks in deep. He strokes himself at that same rhythm, long and slow, groaning under his breath as he pictures you on your knees for him, those pretty lips wrapped around his cock.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dominance - Shawn has been in control his whole life, and that doesn’t change in the bedroom. He loves being the one calling the shots, having you completely at his mercy, making you whimper just by tightening his grip on your waist. He pins you down, keeps you where he wants you. If you try and take control, he'll flip you over in seconds and pin your wrists above your head, holding you as he fucks you, making sure you look him in the eyes as he stretches you out so he can see your face twist in pleasure as you feel it.

Praise with Posession - He's possessive. He doesn't just fucks you. He claims you and needs to have you in a way that no one else can have you. He's constantly telling you how good you feel, calling you his girl, his baby and his sweetheart especially when he's balls deep inside of you.

Man handling - He’s got strong hands, calloused from years of wrestling, and he knows how to use them. Loves grabbing, squeezing, smacking your ass hard enough to leave a print. If you’re being a brat, testing his patience? He’ll haul you over his lap and make sure you learn your lesson - one smack for every time you ran your mouth.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Even in his old age, he's still a bit of a thrill seeker who loves the risk of having you in his hands whenever the urge stikes. He loves a good risk—backstage, a dressing room, the backseat of his truck. He lives for the thrill of getting caught, for the way your breath hitches when someone walks by a little too close. But when he has you alone, in private? He savors it, taking his time, making sure you’re left breathless and ruined.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

You. Everything about you. The way you bite your lip when you’re nervous, the way your body moves when you’re dancing, the way your ass fills out those tight little shorts. He’s got a thing for you looking all sweet and innocent while he knows exactly what he’s going to do to you later. When your biting your lip, all he can think about how good those lips look around his cock, when you wear his shirts around with absolutely nothing else on or even when you are stretching and don't realise your tits pushing forward, the curve of your ass...you don't realise what your are doing to him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Similarly to the 90s headcanons, Shawn is a dominant lover, but he doesn’t entertain actual cruelty. He doesn’t do degradation, not in the serious sense. He’ll tease, call you his dirty little slut, maybe play rough, but he won’t cross into making you feel bad about yourself. He adores your body, every inch of it, and he won’t hear a damn word otherwise.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man could live between your thighs. He loves eating pussy. Loves taking his time relishing it. He’ll spread you open with his thumbs, watching your folds glisten before running his tongue up your slit in one slow, teasing stroke. He’ll suck your clit into his mouth, flick his tongue just right, then hum against your skin, eyes flicking up to watch you arch and whimper. He wants you to come on his face, needs to feel your thighs shaking around his head while he holds you down and keeps going.

And he couldd stay there forever. He loves the aftermath, watching your thighs tremble and your cunt clench and leak because he managed to work you that hard.

Of course, you are more than happy to give him some love too. He loves it messy, loves seeing spit dribble down your chin as you work your mouth down his thick cock. He likes grabbing the back of your head, not forcing, just guiding, groaning deep when he hits the back of your throat. If you keep eye contact? He’s fucking done for.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He loves drawing out the pleasure, keeping you on edge until you’re practically begging him to move faster. But when he’s worked up and when you’ve been teasing him all damn day, brushing up against him, throwing him those little smirks—he’ll ruin you. He’ll bend you over, grip your hips tight, and fuck you with enough force to have the headboard knocking against the wall. His strokes are long and deep, his thrusts rough, filling you up with every stroke.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He may be older but it doesn't mean he's slowed down. If you are out together and there's tension, he'll grab you and pull somewhere secluded. He loves bending you over a table in a empty room at work, yanking your panties to the side and sinking his cock into you. loves having to clamp his hand over your mouth when you get too loud. Quickies with Shawn aren’t lazy, they are usually desperate and full of hunger ready to make a mess out of you before people realise you are gone.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s got a thing for pushing the limit. Not just quickies—full-on someone could catch us at any moment kind of thing. Locker rooms, his car, an empty dressing room, he lives for the thrill, the tension, the knowledge that you’ll have to act normal after. And it’s not just getting caught, he wants people to suspect, to see the way you’re trying not to squirm in your seat, to notice the faint red marks on your thighs from where he held you down.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Shawn will be honest with you in that he cannot go forever like he did when he was in his 30s but it doesn't mean he's gotten worse with age. Shawn still fucks like a goddamn machine when he wants to. He had just learned to pace himself more; he doesn't rush himself through it anymore and works to make it last this time by slowing down when he feels himself getting close. However, if you want to REALLY push Shawn, you need to say something like "that all you got, old man," and HE WILL suddenly find more energy to make you regret your entire existance.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t need them, but he’s not opposed either.

He’ll use a bullet vibrator while he’s inside you, pressing it against your clit while he thrusts deep, watching the way your body reacts, how you get so tight around him the closer you get to breaking. He lives for overstimulation, making you come so hard you physically can’t take it anymore.

He doesn't use toys for himself. When he jerks off, he doesn't need anything other than his hand and thoughts of how good your tight cunt is around his cock.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s downright cruel when he wants to be. He thrives on dragging things out, keeping you right on the edge but never letting you tip over until he decides you’ve earned it.Just warm breath ghosting over your slick folds, a barely-there graze of his lips against your inner thigh. He'll ask you to use your words to get what you want than then proceed to make you beg until you do.

When he’s buried inside you, he knows exactly how to make you beg. Slow, deep thrusts, grinding his cock into you without giving you the pace you need. If you start moving your hips to chase friction? He pins you down, grips your waist hard enough to leave bruises, and stills completely.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Shawn never holds back from anything, especially when it comes to the volume of his voice. He's got that deep quality to his voice which is all rasp and grit. The first thrust brings out that deep guttual groan that rumbles in his chest. When he's fucking you, he drags his moans out. low, throaty sounds, like he’s savoring how good you feel. And if you clench around him? If you pull him deeper with your legs wrapped tight around his waist? That's when he loses it enitrely, his voice gets breathier, rough as if he's trying to keep control. When he's fucking you hard, his breath comes in fast and sharp between curses and growls.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He loves mirror sex. He wants to see your body react, wants to see how you look when you see the way you tremble and part your mouth with every thrust. He’ll sit back, spread his legs wide, and pull you onto his lap, making you ride him while facing the mirror. His hands will be everywhere, palming your tits, sliding down to your swollen clit, gripping your hips to force you to take him deeper.

"See that, sweetheart? That’s mine. That little pussy? That fuckin’ body? All mine."

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Thick, heavy and with a slight curve to hit that spot inside of you every time. He's defiantely got some weight so that when he stretches you, there's a nice burn. You feel every single inch and every single vein when she's inside ot you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He's got a high sex drive but it's in a controlled way. He doesn't get desperate - he gets hungry. He watches you like a man being straved of food.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Afterward? He’s spent, but he doesn’t let go. He tucks you against his chest, one arm slung over your waist, his body a warm, solid weight behind you. If he’s feeling affectionate, he’ll run his fingers along your back, soothing you into sleep. Even in his exhaustion, his touch lingers, as if he just can’t stop touching you.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Precious - L.JH

🦆Who: Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x female reader 🦆What: Angst. Fluff. Nursery school teacher Jihoon. Single parent reader. 🦆Word count: 11.8k 🦆Warnings: Big ol’ misunderstanding, which technically, is intentional but not designed this way. That’ll make sense when you read. Junhui is reader’s best friend and a menace but also the best friend a person could want. Reader has a 4/5-year-old daughter. One-sided pining that isn’t one sided at all, they’re both just kind of stupid and bad at communicating at first. They learn though, don’t worry. 🦆Summary: “Your daughter absolutely adores her nursery school teacher, Mr Lee, and it doesn’t take you long to understand why.”

Masterlist Read the sequel Thinking about: Nursery school teacher L.JH.

A/N- this was originally supposed to be a little under 3k fluff piece about reader’s daughter adoring her nursery teacher and reader quickly understanding why. But I got ever so slightly carried away :))

If you want to know more about a certain nanny featured in this, you can check out the connected story, Thinking about: Nanny K.MG.

It starts with a meltdown.

You’ve only been home twenty minutes and have barely started the prep for dinner when your daughter runs into the kitchen with tears streaming down her chubby, little cheeks and wails of despair falling from her wobbling lips.

“Oh, baby girl, what is it?” You immediately abandon the rice you’ve been rinsing, to wipe your hands on your work trousers, so that they’re mostly dry when you pluck up your distressed child to hold tight and soothe.

It takes almost ten minutes of rocking and murmuring calming words and sounds before your daughter can blubber out an explanation.

“Bubba lost!” She explains, and although it means nothing to pretty much anyone else, you know. Bubba is her comfort plushie, even if it is perhaps the ugliest looking duck plushie you’ve ever seen.

When your best friend had given it to you when you were pregnant with your daughter five years ago, it had really been a joke. But your strange little angel of a child seems to share her pseudo uncle’s sense of humour; the moment she found the duck shoved in your wardrobe at two-years-old, it was love at first sight. Maybe it’s your own fault for naming her after him.

“Oh, Juni,” you coo before pressing a kiss to each splotchy, tear-sticky cheek. “Bubba’s not in your bag?” You ask as you carry her through to the living room, where her school backpack is on the floor with the usual contents tipped out around it from her frantic search for the plushie for her usual post-nursery, unwind snuggle time.

“Lost!” She wails, a fresh set of tears starting up, so you return to bouncing her slightly as you start wandering around the apartment in search of the toy. Though, you know that she takes it to nursery every single day for the post-lunch nap, and you hadn’t received a call from the school about a tearful, tired daughter, so she clearly had it with her at school today.

Once you’ve confirmed that Bubba is not in the apartment, you go back to the kitchen and grab your phone.

“Okay, baby, I need you to calm down so that I can call your school and ask if Bubba is in the classroom, okay?” You say, and it’s something like a miracle how quickly Juni stops making loud noises, even if she’s still sniffling and crying. “Thank you.” You kiss her head then press the dial button beside the school’s number.

Honestly, you aren’t sure anyone will answer; most of the staff, if not all, will surely have already left the building by this point. But to your relief, the ringing cuts off and a friendly voice answers the call, greeting with the school’s name and asking how he can help you.

“Oh, hello, I’m calling to ask if someone could check my daughter’s classroom to see if she left her duck plushie behind?” You wonder politely, while mentally pleading this man to be as kind as he sounds.

“Ah, of course, of course, which class?”

“Little Lambs,” you answer with the cute name of your daughter’s class.

You’re pretty sure that every class in the whole school is named after an animal, though you do know the other two classes for the youngest children are named cutely too: Darling Ducklings for the younger class and Cutie Cubs for the older class.

Juni had been so upset to have missed the chance to be called a Duckling, but you had been working remotely until this school year and hadn’t wanted to be apart from her so soon. At least she’s excited to be in the tiger themed classroom next year, even if she keeps asking if Mr Lee can still be her teacher instead of Mr Kwon.

Not because she dislikes Mr Kwon; she’s said he’s fun and nice, but she adores Mr Lee and talks about him at the most random times. She’s even asked if he can attend her birthday party and you had to deal with a tantrum when you told her that no, her teacher cannot attend a birthday party for a five-year-old. She still asks though.

“Oh! That’s right next to mine! I was just heading that way to see if Mr Lee is heading home yet, so if you just hold on a sec, I’ll go talk to him and we can look.”

“Thank you so much,” you breathe out in relief.

“Of course! Uhh, I don’t know how to put the call on hold so uhm, just wait?”

You laugh softly. “That’s fine, thank you.”

“Okay, great, be right back!”  The phone clatters gently as it’s placed down before you hear the man running away. You find the irony of a teacher running through the school halls amusing; he no doubts spends a good chunk of his day telling the children to walk nicely down the halls.

“B-Bubba?” Juni questions, looking at you with big, red rimmed eyes.

“The teacher is going to ask Mr Lee.”

In an instant, Juni lights up at the mention of her third favourite human, behind only you and your best friend. “Mr Lee!”

It prompts her to start babbling on about her day with the man as if she hadn’t already told you everything on the drive home, but you don’t mind hearing it again. You love seeing her so animated and happy, even with tear stains on her cheeks.

The phone is still held near your ear so when a different voice greets you five minutes later, you’re ready. “Is this Juni’s mother?”

“It is,” you confirm.

“Oh, good. Hi, it’s Mr Lee, Juni’s teacher. I found Bubba amongst the class plushies, so I assume he got put there accidentally. I’m leaving to head home now, so I can drop him off on the way.”

“Oh, you don’t have to; I can come back, it’s not a long drive. I don’t want to bother you, Mr Lee.” Juni squeaks excitedly at the mention of her teacher, making you hold back a fond, little laugh so that the man doesn’t hear it.

“It’s no bother, I know how important Bubba is to her and that you’ve been at work all day yourself. I think it’s on my way anyway, you live near the park with the elephant slide, right? Juni mentions it a lot.”

“Ah, yeah, her uncle takes her there all the time.”

Mr Lee chuckles softly. “Yeah, she says. She really loves him a lot; talks about nothing but him, and you, of course.”

“Funny, she talks about nothing but you at home.”

There’s a moment of silence and you start to wonder if you should’ve kept that to yourself but then his soft, disbelieving voice comes back before you can backtrack and try to apologise for overstepping. “Really? She talks about me?”

“Yeah, she adores you.”

“Oh,” he says on a puff of an awed exhale. “That’s…I didn’t realise any of my students like me that much. That’s really…it means a lot to me to hear, thank you for telling me. I’ll be by in about twenty minutes with Bubba, if that’s okay?”

“Are you sure it’s not too much for you?”

“No, no, not at all. Really. I’m more than happy to do this, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

“Ah, okay, thank you, Mr Lee, we really appreciate your kindness.”

“You’re both welcome. I’ll see you soon.” The call ends and you lock your phone to place it back on the counter.

“Bubba?” Juni asks.

For a moment, you debate not telling her exactly what is happening because you know how she’ll react, but you also don’t like to hide things from you daughter unless entirely necessary.

So, you take a breath and put her down on the floor before answering. “Mr Lee is bringing him.”

As expected, Juni starts to yell and jump excitedly. You chuckle fondly and get back to preparing dinner, while hoping that she will calm soon enough.

Almost half an hour after ending the call, the doorbell rings and you practically have to tackle your daughter on the couch, so that she doesn’t run off to answer the door.

Usually, she never tries to answer the front door, or even touch it, though you still keep it locked with the chain across just in case; but she’s been bouncing and excitedly prattling on about Mr Lee visiting for half an hour now, so you’re not sure she’ll remember the safety rule.

“Okay, be calm. Remember, he’s just bringing Bubba,” you remind your daughter as you get up and walk to the door with her. Juni nods emphatically in understanding, though you’re not convinced she’s absorbed your words any of the times you’ve said them because she has already said multiple times that she’s going to show Mr Lee her favourite toys.

After peering through the spy hole and finding who you can only assume is Mr Lee when he’s bundled up so well with his scarf wrapped around the bottom of his face as his dark hair half obscuring his eyes as it sticks out from under his beanie, you unlock the door and open it.

“Mr Lee!” Juni shrieks as soon as the door is open enough to see the man in the hall. You notice his eyes curve, chill pinkened cheeks bunching up under his scarf before he pulls it down to tuck thickly under his chin so he can smile at your daughter.

“Hi, Nini, I brought you someone,” he greets, surprising you with the nickname you were unaware anyone, other than you, calls her, but you don’t mind. It somehow sounds even cuter from the man. He crouches down as he pulls his messenger bag around to his front and you spot Bubba’s head sticking out of one side.

“Bubba!” Juni gasps and bounces forward to pat the duck’s scruffy yet soft fur.

“We had a nice walk, and he had fun seeing all the sights on the way, but I think he’s more than ready to be back with you now,” Mr Lee says as he unzips his bag to gently pull out the duck to offer. Juni immediately takes it to hug tight and bury her face in its pale yellow and splotchy grey body.

“What do you say, Juni?” You prompt, tapping Juni’s head gently.

“Thank you, Mr Lee!” Juni all but yells, then launches herself forward to hug the man. Clearly, he’s already used to her abrupt and intense affection as he doesn’t falter in catching her and hugging her back.

The sight of this sweet man with his cute, pink tipped nose and cheeks embracing your daughter and looking genuinely happy to be here and accepting her enthusiastic love, makes your heart flutter.

The only man who has ever shown your daughter love is your best friend, but that’s entirely different; you and Junhui fooled around once as teens and decided it was gross and swore to never touch one another like that again.

Just as you manage to get your heart under control, by reminding yourself that this is your daughter’s teacher; someone who you can’t get involved with even if you wanted to, he looks at you and you’re pelted with the full force of his precious smile. Your stomach somersaults and your heart takes up breakdancing, or at least it feels like it by how it suddenly erratically thumps against your ribs.

“Thank you,” you say, forcing yourself to be normal, even if your voice comes out soft and a little breathy.

Something in Mr Lee’s expression changes, the smile lessens a little but not in an unhappy way, more like a thought is running through his mind as his head tilts ever so slightly. It takes him a second too long to respond. “You’re welcome.”

“Mr Lee, see my toys!” Juni encourages, grappling for the man’s glove clad hand as she backs towards the open door, trying to tug him, but she’s only a tiny four-year-old and he’s a grown adult; he doesn’t even wobble in his crouched form.

“Ah, baby, remember, Mr Lee is on his way home; he only came to drop off Bubba. He can’t come in and see your toys,” you explain.

Juni immediately pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes. “Peas, mama?”

“Please,” you correct gently. She pouts harder.

“How about we have a show and tell soon?” Mr Lee suggests, drawing your daughter’s attention back to him.

“What that?”

“Show and tell is where you bring something in to show the class. You can bring in your favourite toy and show the whole class, so long as your parents let you bring it, of course. You can only bring in something mama says is allowed to come to school, okay, Nini?”

“I bring Hector!”

“No!” You argue quickly, earning another pout from your troublesomely cute daughter. “Hector cannot go to school with you, Juni, that is a firm no.”

“But Hector best toy.”

“Hector is twice the size of you,” you remind.

“Now I’m curious about Hector, I won’t lie,” Mr Lee admits with a little chuckle.

“See Hector!” Juni enthuses, once again tugging the man.

“Juni,” you sigh. “Mr Lee needs to go home.”

“Well, I can spare five minutes to meet Hector, if that’s okay?” He replies, looking at you from where he’s still crouched with one hand in Juni’s and actually holding her instead of just letting her hold onto his much larger hand. Surprisingly, there’s a hint of pleading in his slightly rounded eyes and you’re too stunned by this man actively wanting to indulge your daughter that you just nod dumbly.

“Yay!” Juni squeals and scrambles to walk backward while tugging Mr Lee, who gets up now and lets her. He has to stop though when although Juni can fit past your body, the gap isn’t enough for him.

There’s a moment where you’re face to face and so close that you can feel the chill of the winter still clinging to his clothes, and you just hold eye contact with one another silently as a sudden tension fills the little gap between you.

It’s Juni that breaks the moment, even if she doesn’t realise. “Scusey, mama!” She nudges your leg, prompting you to blink back to reality and step aside to allow the man into the apartment. “Thank you!”

Mr Lee only stops when he realises that he’s wearing winter boots, which are a pain to undo. “Oh, uh, my shoes are a lot to get off,” he admits sheepishly. “I forgot I’m wearing these and not my work shoes, sorry, Nini, can you bring Hector out here, by any chance?”

You eye his boots as you lean against the front door and hear it click to a complete close under your weight.

“Otay, wait here!” Juni agrees and lets go of Mr Lee to scramble off to her bedroom.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you say, just loud enough for the man and not your daughter to hear.

He turns to look at you, blinking innocently from behind the strands of dark hair in front of his eyes. “Huh?”

“Indulge her; you must have to get home.”

He shrugs. “I’m in no rush. As I said on the phone; I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” He reaches up to try and move his hair out of his face, but between his beanie trapping it and his thick gloves making it hard for him to accurately touch his hair as he can’t really feel it, he just uselessly swipes over his face a few times. It’s oddly endearing.

“Do you want some help?” You offer, pushing off the door and motioning to his hair loosely without trying to get any closer.

“It’s okay-”

“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” you repeat his own words back at him.

He stares at you dumbly for a second, pink lips parted in surprise before they curl up at one edge as he laughs softly. “Touche. I uh, I’d appreciate the help, I don’t want to take my gloves off because they’re tucked in past my wrists and it’s a pain to tuck them without removing my coat.”

“Past your wrists?” You wonder as you move closer and lift your hands to carefully move the strands of his hair from out of his face, baring his eyes directly to you from only a few feet away. “Where did you get those? That sounds useful.”

“Oh, uhm, I got them abroad. My friend got married at a ski resort for some reason despite not knowing how to ski nor having ever been to a ski resort in his life, but yeah…I bought them in the town there.”

“Bet it was beautiful though.”

“Mm, yeah. Could’ve done without having to wear a suit in the snow for the sake of photos. They had to photoshop the pink from my face; it was very cold.”

You giggle at the thought of Mr Lee standing pink faced in a suit amongst beautiful, snowy mountains and part of you wants to see the original photos, but you know that would be weird to ask.

So instead, you simply finish tucking his hair neatly into his beanie to keep it in place without entirely exposing his forehead and temples to the cold. You’re entirely unaware of the way he’s staring at you in awe; blown away by how precious your giggle is and wondering if he can make you do it again.

“There,” you say when you’re done. “You can see clearly again, Mr Lee.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs as you lower your hands and step back while smiling at him. “You can call me Jihoon when it’s just us,” he blurts in offer.

You almost ask him if he plans to create situations where it’s just the two of you but the familiar sound of Hector’s wheels rolling on the laminate draws both of your attention away from one another and in the direction of Juni’s bedroom. Which is a good thing too, because you’re pretty sure your retort would’ve been an inappropriate flirtation.

“That’s Hector?” Jihoon mutters with wide eyes on the half mechanical, half plush creature on wheels.

To the best of your abilities, all you can describe it as is cyborg Godzilla in need of a better plastic surgeon because it truly is a monstrosity. Once again, it’s something that Junhui gifted to your daughter, and she loves wholeheartedly.

“My best friend is a menace, and he passed it on to her,” you deadpan and count it as a win when Jihoon snorts a laugh in response.

“Like Hector, Mr Lee?” Juni asks once she’s just about managed to stop the remote-controlled lizard creature before it collides with the man.

“He’s very impressive,” Jihoon replies diplomatically and now you’re the one barely catching a laugh in time and instead letting out an almost snort at his answer. He side-eyes you amusedly and presses his lips together to fight his laugh, as evident by the upturned corners of his mouth and crinkles next to his eyes before he looks back at Juni. “But your mama is right; Hector should definitely stay at home.”

“Otay, I shown tell ‘nother toy,” Juni declares simply.

“Show and tell,” Jihoon corrects gently before you get the chance. Juni just nods as if that’s exactly what she had said, making the pair of you smile fondly at her little figure focused on the large remote in her tiny hands to try and turn Hector around. “Hey, can I have a turn?” He requests.

Juni’s head jerks up to look at her teacher before nodding enthusiastically and bouncing over to offer the control while pointing out the joystick and buttons to tell him how to use it.

For a few minutes, you watch as Jihoon squats down in the entrance hall with Juni standing between his knees and her back to his chest in the circle of his arms as they both watch Hector roam around under Jihoon’s direction.

“Roar! Do the roar!” Juni says, in the exact same voice Junhui does to quote the little boy in the fourth Shrek movie.

Jihoon doesn’t manage to catch his laugh in time, and it comes out in a sudden bark before he manages to press his lips together, turning his laughter into strange, sputtered “pffts” that make you laugh silently.

Juni looks over her left shoulder at her teacher with the dirtiest side-eye you have ever seen, and you can’t help it; you burst into laughter, which sets Jihoon off laughing, making him turn his head so he’s not laughing in the child’s face. Now you’re also getting the side-eye from your four-year-old, but you’re doubled over with your hands on your knees and don’t even notice.

It takes the pair of you over a minute to stop laughing, though one look at the other’s laughter-teary eyes sets you both off again. Juni huffs in impatience and takes the controller from her teacher to press the button that makes Hector roar, while you and Jihoon continue to laugh away together.

The trill of your alarm going off in the kitchen is the only reason you manage to collect yourself. “Oh,” you sniffle, wiping under your eyes as you straighten up, a few giggles still slipping past.

“Dinner!” Juni exclaims eagerly and turns to look at Jihoon. “Dinner time, Mr Lee!”

“Ah, I suppose it is. You eat well, okay, and I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he says as he gets up, wiping the wet marks from his own cheeks.

Juni frowns at him. “Stay dinner.”

“I can’t, that’s your family time. I’ll eat lunch with you tomorrow instead, okay?”

“Pomise?” She asks, lifting her hand, and almost dropping the controller in the process, so she holds it close to her chest, to extend her adorable, little pinkie finger to the man.

“I promise,” he agrees, linking his glove clad pinkie with her tiny one. It’s a precious sight, but not as precious as how your daughter glows with joy then hugs the man before rushing to the kitchen to turn the alarm off, yelling goodbye as she goes.

“I hope you’re a man of honour, Jihoon,” you comment as Jihoon turns to the front door while you open it.

He pauses mid step for a split second before exiting the apartment and turning to look at you with a shy smile. “I am. I’ve never gone back on a promise.”

“Ah, good; I’d hate to have to think badly on you for breaking my daughter’s trust and heart.”

“I won’t ever intentionally hurt her, I promise,” his words are entirely sincere, and you find yourself unable to doubt him, yet you still extend your pinkie to him without breaking eye contact. Jihoon glances at your offered hand and smiles a little before lifting his hand to link his pinkie around yours without hesitation as his gaze returns to your own. “She’s safe with me.”

“I know,” you assure and slowly unhook your pinkie, so he copies, and you both take your hands back.

“Mama!” Juni yells impatiently from the kitchen.

“Is she this loud at school?” You wonder amusedly.

“She’s certainly easy to hear, I can say that much,” Jihoon replies with a chuckle and starts adjusting his scarf to pull over his chin yet keeps his mouth free to talk. “Enjoy your dinner, I’ll uh, see you at drop off tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see you then. Have a safe journey home, Jihoon.”

“Thanks.” He shoots you a smile and wavers, swaying in place before pulling his scarf up to cover his mouth, waving goodbye then walks down the hallway.

You wait until he’s out of sight before shutting and locking the door.

Even though Juni is once again calling you from the kitchen, you take a moment to will your fluttering heart to calm before going to join your daughter and hope that you’re not developing a crush on her teacher.

As it turns out; your hoping was in vain.

After that evening, every time you see Jihoon at drop off and pick up for the following two months, he smiles at you and wanders over if he’s not busy with another student or parent, to make small talk in the morning and tell you about Juni’s achievements and quirks of the day in the afternoon.

It’s the most you’ve ever conversed with the man in the handful of months he’s been Juni’s teacher, and as much as you truly love the attention that you’ve noticed he doesn’t go out of his way to other parents, you’ve also noticed something else. The silver band on his ring finger.

Once you notice the wedding ring, you try to not engage in conversation as much. You even send Junhui on pick-ups when you know your hormones are too excitable to remember that you can’t enjoy the attention of the man.

Though there’s only so much you can do when Jihoon approaches you one morning looking more awake than usual, with his eyes sparkling in the early spring sun and excitement stretching his smile wide on his pretty face.

He calls your name in a way that makes other parents look between you suspiciously, yet the man doesn’t notice. “Guess what!”

“Uhm, what?” You ask, awkwardly shuffling your weight from foot to foot and hoping he calms a little, as much as you love seeing him so animated, because it’s drawing attention. More attention than usual due to his clear favouritism towards you and your daughter every morning and afternoon.

“Are you okay?” He suddenly frowns in concern, noticing the way you’re trying to make yourself a little smaller as if that will stop the parents eyeing you. “Are you ill?”

“No, just…I should really get to work.”

“Oh, uhm, okay. Sorry, I probably keep you a lot, huh?” He reaches out towards Juni’s backpack in your hold, your daughter off somewhere with her friends on the playground until morning bell rings to tell them they must go into the class to get ready. “I won’t keep you; I can take Juni in so you can get to work on time.”

“Oh, right, yeah, thanks.” You hand over the bag then step back and look around for your daughter.

You hear her before you see her; squealing happily as she runs around with a little boy you can never remember the name of; you just know that his nanny always brings him to school and picks him up. Even if the nanny looks at him so adoringly you thought for the longest time that he’s the boy’s father, not full-time babysitter.

The pair are running circles around the tall man, who is moving his gaze between the two to watch over them, and the collection of mothers hovering and trying to flirt with him. It’s not an unusual sight at all, even when you know some of the women are married, but at least the nanny never seems to be interested and only replies politely.

“I’ll go say goodbye,” you say, motioning over to your daughter while looking back at Jihoon.

“Of course, I’ll see you at pick up.”

“Oh, uh, I think Junhui is picking her up today. Park trip,” you say, even though you’re very certain Junhui planned to get home on time to conveniently meet his cute neighbour in the car park and hit on her, and maybe even finally ask her on a date. But you know he’ll drop any plan for the sake of your daughter, though you make a mental note to pick up his favourite takeout on your way home from work tonight.

“Ah, I see. Well, have a nice weekend and I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“Yep, see you then,” you agree, then turn and approach your daughter. “Juni!” She immediately comes to a stop and looks at you, but the little boy doesn’t stop in time and collides with her, sending them both to the floor. “Oh, shit,” you whisper and rush over to kneel beside the nanny, who is already cooing over the pair and checking them over.

“We otay!” Juni assures and the little boy looks at her with tears in his eyes and a wobbling lip but noticing her smile, he sniffles, wipes his eyes then grins himself, making you and his nanny chuckle.

“We otay,” he agrees.

“Well, I’m glad you’re both otay,” the nanny says as you both help the children to their feet.

“Mama, can DanDan come my party?” Juni asks, looking at you with her trademark puppy dog eyes.

“Sunday is a bit close notice to ask someone to your party, most parents want more notice,” you point out softly. “I’d have to call his parents, and I don’t have their number.”

“You can take mine,” the nanny offers, drawing your attention.

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice a few of the mothers behind him baulk and you assume he’s avoided giving his number to any of them. You feel a little ping of pride in your chest at effortlessly getting the attractive man’s number, even if you truly don’t want it for the reasons they do.

“If you text me the details, I can talk to Danil’s mother about it and pass on your number when she gets home from work. Then she can call you herself. I don’t feel right giving her number to you without her consent.”

“No, no, that’s completely understandable. I’d really appreciate that,” you assure, taking your phone from your pocket to unlock and open a new contact. You hand him the device, so that he can input his details himself and not risk the too-nosey mothers overhearing the digits.

“Where bag, mama?” Juni asks, noticing the lack of her backpack in your grasp.

“Mr Lee took it, I’ve got to get to work now so he’s taking over from me,” you reply.

“Oh, otay. See you later.” She moves over to hug you tight and kiss your cheek noisily, which you return theatrically, making her giggle happily.

“Uncle Jun is going to pick you up today, Nini, okay?”

“Jun-Jun time!” She shrieks happily and starts bouncing around Danil, who watches her with giggles tumbling from his lips. “DanDan come park too?!”

“That’s really not my decision, baby,” you remind as you accept your phone back and notice that the man has saved his number as ‘Danil’s nanny’. You look at him funnily.

“Hm?” He wonders, noticing your expression.

“You didn’t put your name.”

“Oh, well, I just thought that would make more sense, because you only want my number because I’m Danil’s nanny.”

“Well, yeah but it’s a big derogatory, is it not? Just referring to you as nothing more than his nanny; you’re your own person, you know?”

“I know,” he chuckles and smiles at you softly. “I’m Mingyu, I don’t think we’ve ever actually talked before; you’re one of the only mothers who’s never approached me.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed you draw a certain kind of attention,” you scoff amusedly and side-eye the lingering mothers, who abruptly look away and fail at playing innocent. Mingyu glances over and giggles quietly as he turns back around. “They don’t much like me. I’ve told them all off for various things; mostly trying to chat up my best friend when he picks up Juni and making him uncomfortable.”

“Best friend? Not partner?”

“Ew, gross!” You fake a gag that makes him laugh.

Suddenly, you realise you’re both still kneeling on the rubber tarmac, even if the kids are running off again, so you get to your feet, brushing off your knees as you go and Mingyu copies, extending to his full height and towering over you.

“Anyway, I’ll text you the details when I get the chance.”

“Mm, okay, I look forward to hearing from you. Between you and me, Danil’s never been invited to a party or anything before. Juni is really his only friend, he sings her praises, seriously, so I’m really happy she wants him there and you’re willing to accept him.”

“Of course, I’m not great with remembering who is who amongst these kids, but I know she’s mentioned him a bunch of times, especially lately, and he sounds like a great kid. I’ll be happy to have him at the party, and you and his parents, if you all want to come. It’s a picnic party, because apparently my child thinks the beginning of March is the perfect time to sit outside when it’s likely to rain. So maybe bring spare clothes and be prepared to abruptly move to my apartment if that happens.”

Mingyu chuckles. “We’ll bring raincoats and towels.”

“Perfect!” You beam and he laughs again. “Alright, I really should go, but nice to officially meet you, Mingyu, talk later.” You start walking backwards and hope you don’t crash into a parent or even worse, a child with your ass.

“You too! Wait, what’s your name?!” You call your name out and he smiles brightly. “Have a good day at work!” You give him a thumbs up then turn and jog off out of the school grounds to get to your car, where it’s parked down the street, and head to work.

In the midst of eating dinner, with Junhui and Juni seeming to silently compete in who can shove the most noodles in the mouths judging by their matching, bulging cheeks, the doorbell rings. You choke on your laughter at the way they both turn their heads towards the hallway with wide eyes and dangling noodles, like a pair of greedy, chubby cheeked dogs.

“I swear it’s like she takes after you more than me,” you comment as you get up after putting your cutlery down. “Never should’ve named her after you.” Junhui just grins at you, so you roll your eyes and leave the kitchen to approach the door.

When you peer through the spyhole, you’re genuinely surprised to find a familiar figure standing on the other side.

Confusedly, you unlock the door and open it just enough to look directly at Jihoon, who once again has his hair in his eyes; though at least now, thanks to the warmer weather, he’s no longer hiding half of his face in a thick scarf, even if his coat is done up all the way to his chin.

“Hi,” he greets a little awkwardly.

“Hi,” you reply and put the latch on the door to step outside and pull the door up so that Juni doesn’t hear her teacher’s voice and excitedly abandon her dinner. “Is something wrong? Did Juni forget Bubba again?”

“No, no, I just asked her to give you a note, but I found it on her desk after class, so I guess she forgot it.”

“A note?”

“Yeah, so uhm, as a teacher I sometimes get invitations to new child-friendly exhibits and stuff before they open to the public; so that I can try things out and give feedback from a teacher’s perspective. And it’s also like free publicity for them because then I can see if it’s worth booking a class trip or something.”

“Right?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve heard about the new interactive science museum opening like an hour’s drive away?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar.”

Jihoon’s tongue darts out to lick his lips quickly and you kind of hate yourself for tracking the movement with your eyes despite knowing he’s a married man. You rapidly lift your gaze back up and hope he hasn’t noticed.

“I received an invitation last night to the open day on Sunday; I can take up to two children so long as there’s another adult so that’s one adult per child for the open day. And well…I was wondering if you and Juni would like to go with me?”

“What?” You blink at him. “Me and Juni?”

“Yeah. I don’t have any children in my life, just my students, and I thought it’d be nice to get a child’s perspective; so I know if it’s fun and interesting enough for them. And well, I just…I thought of you. And Juni! I mean I thought of Juni and you. Her-her first, of course. As the child.”

“Of course,” you mumble, still looking at him with furrowed eyebrows from your surprise and confusion at the man turning up at your door to ask you and Juni to do something outside of school hours. “Is that something you usually do?”

“Huh?”

“Ask students and their parents to go to these events with you?”

Jihoon’s cheeks prickle a soft pink and his gaze flickers away quickly, then back at you. “No. I just…I don’t really like the other parents, honestly.”

“They’ve noticed.”

“What?”

“You really didn’t see the way they looked at us this morning?”

Jihoon’s expression turns down and pinches a little in confusion. “What do you mean, looked at us?”

“When you called me; multiple parents looked at us suspiciously and it’s not the first time. They often give me dirty looks; like I’m some kind of homewrecker just because you approach me and not anyone else, at least not smiling like you do me.”

“Oh.” Understanding dawns on his expression. “I didn’t realise; I didn’t even think of how it may seem. I just…”

“I think it would be inappropriate and only worsen their suspicions to be seen with you outside of the playground, Mr Lee.”

Jihoon winces. “You can still call me Jihoon.”

“It’s probably for the best I don’t. It’s too familiar to call my daughter’s teacher by his first name.”

“Right.” He chews on his lip as he nods slowly, eyes downcast to look at his own hands as he laces them together tightly in front of himself. “I understand. I’m sorry for overstepping, I didn’t mean to get too familiar and make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, I’d just rather not have homewrecker pinned to me, you know?”

“You’re not, it’s not like that,” he lifts his head to look at you imploringly. “You’re not a homewrecker.”

“I know; nothing has happened, nor will it. We were just talking. But you probably shouldn’t turn up at my apartment unannounced like this.”

“Ah, yeah, I just…it’s on Sunday so I couldn’t wait until Monday, for obvious reasons.”

“I understand.”

“Well, uhm, I just like…it’s in another town and we can meet there if you want? It could be like coincidence. We don’t have to explore the museum together, just go in together because it’s under my name and all that. Nobody can say anything and it’s not inappropriate to just exist in the same building at other ends.”

“It’s Juni’s birthday party on Sunday.”

“Oh, right,” his eyes widen a little. “I forgot. She tried to invite me, but I said it’d be inappropriate.”

“Yeah, she asked me too, multiple times.” You chuckle a little. “I told you; she loves you.”

“I love her too, in a like…professional teacher way. I love all my students but she’s special. She just has so much love and joy in her that it’s impossible not to favour her, even though I shouldn’t. You’ve done a really good job raising her; I’d be proud if I ever have a child anything like her.”

“Ah, thank you,” you flush softly with the praise. “She’s a good kid.”

“The best.”

There’s a moment here, with your eyes locked and something hanging in the air; it feels anticipatory in a way that brings back the same tender violence as before in your chest.

You want to look away, but you’re stuck in place, unable to turn even though your mind is yelling at you that this is a married man, and you can’t have him the way you yearn to. But your heart beats louder than logic and your apparently fragile morals.

It gets louder still when he takes a half step forward, only stopped by the door pulling open behind you and Junhui’s tall figure looming over you concernedly. Jihoon shuffles back and glances away with something that looks like guilt on his face.

“Mr Lee, what are you doing here?” Junhui asks, putting his arm around your shoulders to pull you back to him.

Being your best friend, Junhui knows all about the feelings you’ve developed for your daughter’s teacher over the past two months of sparkly eyed attention and beautiful smiles. He had slapped your limbs a few times when you confessed to him that you can’t stop thinking about Jihoon, even once you noticed the ring on his finger. Which is half of the reason Junhui has been so willing to do school runs in your place; so that you don’t fall prey to your own heart and become the homewrecker the other parents clearly think you are.

“Just had to discuss something time sensitive but we’re done, so I’ll go now. Have a nice evening. I’ll see you on Monday,” Jihoon replies, giving Junhui a curt smile and one a little lingering to you, before he turns and rushes off down the hall.

“The fuck did he want?” Junhui grunts, tugging you into the apartment and flicking the latch off to securely push the door up and let you lock it back up.

“Just a thing; I’ll explain later, let’s just eat.”

“Mm, alright.”

Junhui is not impressed at all when he learns the information that Jihoon asked you to go with him to the museum, even if Juni was supposed to be the reason for the invitation in the first place.

Your best friend’s disapproval is made more obvious than his rant on Friday night, once Juni was in bed, when you go down to your car on Monday morning with Juni to take her to school and find Junhui sitting on the bonnet of your car chewing on a pastry, which he immediately shares with Juni.

Without him even explaining his presence, he gets in the car with you both to go to the school, munching away and spilling pastry flakes all over the interior, but you’re too silently glad for his presence to berate him. You know he’s only here as a tall, crumb covered buffer in case Jihoon tries to approach you, and you appreciate that a lot.

In the playground as you stand with Junhui and Mingyu, who seem to have become friends since the picnic less than 24 hours ago, you spot Jihoon glancing in your direction multiple times, yet he keeps his distance with a tiny, almost imperceptible frown.

When you leave work the same afternoon, you find Junhui once again sitting on your car, despite the fact he works across the city so had to have left early to get here. Neither of you say a word, even if you want to call him an idiot for ditching work early, but you appreciate your best friend far too much to even pretend to scold him for silently supporting you in your mission to not fall for a married man.

For two straight weeks, Junhui appears every morning and most afternoons for the school run. The only afternoons you don’t leave work to see him waiting are the afternoons where he picks up Juni alone to take for their after-school park trips.

It seems that Junhui is the perfect deterrent because Jihoon doesn’t approach you once in those two weeks.

The only time you talk is when you approached him first to tell him that another child had said things to Juni that makes you think their parents have said something nasty about you in front of the child. So, you wanted to warn Jihoon that Juni will hit the child if they say another bad thing about you, just as Junhui taught her to. “Once can be let go, but twice deserves punishment”, are his exact words and honestly, you don’t even mind that he’s trained her in such a way, with the baby fighting skills to match. It’s taught her to be understanding, while not letting others be endlessly cruel or walk all over her.

Junhui may give your daughter odd habits and interests, but he at least teaches her to have a backbone, and you will forever be grateful to him for that.

Although it’s weird for you to go from being blessed with Jihoon’s direct attention and precious face twice a day for almost two full months, it’s much better for your heart to yearn with the distance than up close.

You had hoped that it will continue and you can gradually get over Jihoon, but a little over two weeks since enforcing the break, your phone rings while you’re in the middle of cooking dinner and the school number appears on your screen.

Somehow, you know it’s Jihoon before even answering. “Hello,” you greet.

“Hi, it’s Ji- uh, Mr Lee,” Jihoon’s familiar voice responds.

“Is something wrong?”

“She hasn’t noticed yet?” He mumbles confusedly.

“Noticed what?”

“Bubba is with me; I found him under my desk, for some reason.”

“Oh,” your tone is confused and without thought, you walk through to the living room, expecting to find Juni on the couch watching her after school cartoons but they’re playing to an empty room.

“Mm, so I thought I should drop him off. Professionally. I know she can’t sleep without him.”

“I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll uhm see you in twenty minutes then.”

“Yeah, see you then,” you agree distractedly and hang up before stepping into your daughter’s room to find her drawing a picture at her little table. “Nini?”

“Yes, mama?” She replies, looking up at you innocently.

“What are you doing?”

“Draw picture for Mr Lee.”

“You’re drawing a picture for Mr Lee?” She hums and nods her head as she looks back down to her paper and returns to colouring. You approach and peer suspiciously at the drawing of who you know is you, because she always draws you the same way, and what vaguely looks like Jihoon, smiling and holding hands. “Baby, what’s this drawing about?”

“You hold hands and be happy.”

“Right, okay and why are you drawing that?” You crouch down beside her and lean your arms on the table to watch her carefully work on her masterpiece.

“Mr Lee sad.”

“What?” Your face falls and you look at your daughter. “Mr Lee is sad?” She nods. “Why do you say that? Did he tell you he’s sad?”

“No. He smiles little bit now.”

“He smiles less?” She nods. “Oh…” You turn your focus to the picture, not sure what to say.

“Mr Lee smiles with you,” Juni states a few seconds later when she puts her crayon down, signalling she’s finished with her drawing. “So, I make picture to make Mr Lee happy and smile because you are hold hands and happy.”

“Oh.”

“I did good picture, mama?” She asks, looking at you with hope in her eyes. “Mr Lee will be happy?”

“It’s a very good drawing, well done, baby,” you answer, carefully avoiding responding to her second question, and kiss her head.

“Mr Lee be here soon?” She wonders as you get up, making you look at her in alarm. “With Bubba?”

Then, it suddenly makes sense; just why your daughter, who is usually so stuck to her post-nursery routine, isn’t sitting on the couch with Bubba or screaming the place down because her comfort plushie is lost. “Juni, did you hide Bubba under Mr Lee’s desk, so that he’ll have to come here?”

Juni’s eyes slowly widen in the way they always do when she realises that she’s done something wrong and is feeling guilty all of a sudden. Her cheeks pinken slightly and you sigh, knowing that you have your confirmation, even as she remains silent.

“That’s not good, baby; you can’t do things like that, okay?”

“But Mr Lee sad!”

“I know you care about Mr Lee, but he is an adult, and it isn’t anyone’s business but his own. You can’t trick him to come here to give him a picture.”

“And see you.”

“What?”

“You make Mr Lee happy, mama. You no talk anymore, only talk to Mingoo and Uncle Jun and not Mr Lee.”

“Wait, is this why you don’t like Mingyu lately?” You baulk, only now having an explanation to your daughter no longer liking to be near the kind man and always dragging Danil off in the mornings, while you and Junhui talk to Mingyu as you all wait for the doors to open for the children to be let in for the day.

“He steal you tenshun.”

“My attention?” She nods. “Baby, Mingyu hasn’t stolen anything; he’s mine and Uncle Jun’s new friend.”

“Mr Lee friend too! Have to be equal to all friends!” She repeats words that you and Junhui have both told her multiple times in gentle reminder when she talks about one child more than others, just so that she doesn’t leave any of her friends out unintentionally.

“Mr Lee isn’t my friend,” you inform. “He’s your teacher, not my friend.”

The way Juni frowns at you can only be described as painfully lost. “But you smile together. You make him happy; he make you happy. Like friends.”

“Mr Lee doesn’t make me happy.”

“Not now, you no talk because Mingoo,” she huffs.

“It’s not because of Mingyu. Mr Lee is your teacher and has other parents and students to give attention to; I’ve stepped back to let him do that.”

“Well don’t!” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Step not back.”

“Forward is opposite to back.”

“I know! I’m not stupid.”

“I never said-”

“You stupid,” her grumbled words cut you off mid-sentence to gawp at her in astonishment. Never before has your daughter called you stupid.

Even though you shouldn’t take it to heart, knowing she’s just upset and still learning, it stings.

“Excuse me?” You ask, putting your hands on your hips when you manage to gather your wits to retort. She looks at you and upon taking in your firm expression, she immediately looks away again. “You do not talk to me or anyone like that, Juni. That is not a nice thing to say.”

“Mr Lee your friend.”

“Don’t change the subject. This is about you calling me stupid.”

“You be stupid for saying not friend. He is.”

“Juni-”

“No! You be stupid! Mr Lee your friend, and he need you! You make him happy, but you ditch for stupid, stupid, stupid Mingoo!”

“Alright, that’s enough, you need calm down time,” you declare, packing up her art supplies quickly to put back on the shelf, while she watches you with rapidly saddening eyes. “When you’ve calmed down and are ready to apologise for being mean, you can come to me, and we will talk properly.”

“You being mean!” She doubles down and abruptly gets up to storm over to her bed and throw herself on top of, where she start to cry.

As much as you want to soothe your distressed child, you know she needs time alone, and frankly so do you, so you turn and leave her room without another word.

It breaks your heart to return to making dinner as if you can’t hear Juni’s crying turn from angry wails to unhappy sobbing down the hall, but you stay firm and wait for her to be ready and come to you.

By the time the doorbell rings, you can only hear the occasional hiccupped inhale and sniffles when you listen carefully over the noises of making dinner.

When you open the door to Jihoon already standing with Bubba in arms against his chest as if he’s been using the toy as his own comfort plushie, you suddenly see why Juni thinks she needs to trick Jihoon to stop by in an attempt to cheer him up.

The man looks paler than usual, with dark smears under his eyes badly hidden with concealer, which isn’t even his shade, and his lips look bitten half raw. He looks like he needs a hug.

“Oh,” you mutter before you can stop yourself.

“Oh? Were-were you expecting someone else?” He asks, looking down the hall with widened eyes as if he expects this mystery visitor to suddenly appear.

“No just…you uh…is it rude to say you don’t look good?” You wince at your own words, but he doesn’t.

Jihoon looks back at you and sighs a little. “It’s the truth.”

“You look like you need a hug, or a strong drink.”

“I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Oh…” He hums vaguely in response and awkwardly looks at the floor between you while tightening his hold on Bubba. “Do…Do you want a hug?” You offer.

Jihoon’s head snaps up to look at you with bulging eyes and a slightly dropped jaw. “Wh-what?”

“A hug? Do you want one?”

“Yes,” he blurts, then shakes his head and steps backwards before you can even try to move closer. “I mean no, no, that’s inappropriate. You’ve made it very clear that you want a strict teacher-parent relationship with me, and I will respect that.”

“I’m offering as a parent, for the sake of my child.”

“Why would hugging me benefit Juni in anyway?” He looks utterly bewildered.

“She hid him under your desk, so you’d have to come here,” you inform, pointing at his chest, where he’s hugging Bubba tight.

Jihoon looks down at the creepy duck, then up at you even more puzzled than previously. “Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s noticed that you’re sad and apparently, I make you happy.”

“Oh…” he mutters and shrinks into himself a little further while no longer making eye contact with you, focusing on Bubba again as he mindlessly strokes his fingers over the fluff. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be obvious.”

“Wait, she’s right?” You baulk. “I thought she was just being a kid.”

“Sorry.”

“I’m the reason you look like this?” You motion to him vaguely, though he doesn’t look away from the duck and just nods in confirmation. “Fuck. Why? This isn’t right, Jihoon. You can’t look this pitiful because I put boundaries that should remain in place so that our lives don’t get fucked up.”

“I wasn’t aware being my friend would fuck up your life but thanks for letting me know,” he grunts and thrusts the duck towards you one handed. “I’ll leave and stop being a bother.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” you assure, naturally taking the toy ready to give back to your daughter. When he tries to lower his empty hand as he turns to leave, you grab it. “This is why. You-” you cut off when you realise that although it’s his left hand you’re grasping, there isn’t a single piece of jewellery under your touch.

Confusedly, you tuck Bubba under your arm to free your own left hand to take his wrist to prevent him from walking away, like you fear he will, when you let go with your right hand to reveal his bare fingers to your sight.

“Where’s your ring?” You mutter and look up to find Jihoon staring at you with wide eyes and frozen in place. “Jihoon?” You prompt when he continues to stare with parted lips.

“H-Huh?” He blinks a few times to try and bring himself back to reality.

“Where’s your ring?”

“Ring? What ring?”

“Your wedding ring.”

“I’m not married,” he mutters, eyebrows pulling together as he too looks at his hand.

“No, no, you are,” you insist while dropping his hand to move Bubba from under your arm to your chest to squeeze slightly as you mind starts to whirl. “You wear a fucking wedding band every day, I saw it earlier. I know you wear one. Jun’s seen it and Juni drew it on her picture! You’re married, Jihoon!”

“Oh,” his eyes slowly widen in understanding. “That’s just a trick.”

“What?”

“Last year, a lot of parents were really inappropriate towards me, so I faked an engagement and came back this year wearing the ring; to stop them bothering me for reasons that aren’t about their children.”

“What?”

“I’m not married, I’m not even seeing anyone. I’m single, like really single,” he emphasises. “I haven’t even been on a date in years.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah…”

An awkward, slightly tense silence comes over the pair of you as you try to stop your mind from spinning and heart racing with hope and a brand-new dance routine.

“That’s why you stopped talking to me?” Jihoon manages to get out in such a quiet voice that you barely hear him over your pulse thudding in your ears. But you hear and look up at him. “You stopped talking to me because you thought I’m married?”

“You wear a ring,” you reason.

“Yeah, but I thought…I just thought that you don’t want to be friends with me, not that you’re…fuck,” he exhales and lifts his hands to put his face in them. “The one person I didn’t want it to work on,” he groans into his palms, making your stomach flip with fresh hope that he means that he might possibly feel the same way you do.

You watch with anticipation dancing amongst your internal organs, while he scrubs his hands over his face with a few strange groans, then abruptly pushes them up into his hair despite his beanie, resulting in knocking it off to the floor, yet he either doesn’t notice somehow, or simply does not care.

Jihoon looks directly at you with his fingers in his hair before dropping his arms and taking a step closer while opening his mouth to say something with a painfully sincere expression on his face, but a sniffled voice from behind you stops him in his tracks.

“Mama?” Immediately, you turn to look at Juni, where she’s standing down the hall looking miserable with her precious little face swollen with sadness. “I-I’m sorry for call you stupid,” she apologises, lip wobbling.

As soon as you lower to your knees, Juni runs over to throw herself into your open arms and clings to you tightly. “I know, baby, I know. Thank you for apologising; I appreciate it a lot.”

“Never call you stupid again,” she promises, even if you know she likely will forget that promise as she grows, especially as a hormonal teenager. Though you won’t hold it against her.

“Thank you.” You kiss her head and hold her tighter as you get to your feet, stuffing Bubba between your chests for her to immediately grab, while you turn to look at Jihoon.

He’s got something tender in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you and your daughter, and you realise that it’s not the first time that he’s looked at you two like this; like the sight of you settles his very soul.

“Do you like lasagne?” You blurt.

Jihoon slowly looks at you instead of watching Juni rub her face into the almost bald patch on Bubba’s belly, where fur is missing from all the times that she’s done exactly this after an emotionally exhausting cry. “What?” He mutters dumbly.

“Lasagne, do you like it? And garlic bread.”

“Uh, ye-yeah,” he confirms with a nod and shuffles on his feet as both of his hands grip the strap of his bag, where it’s crossed over his chest.

“Do you maybe want to join us for dinner? I made too much for just us because I thought Jun would be here, but he went home with an upset stomach from once again eating out of date yogurt because he doesn’t want to waste it. It wasn’t even his yogurt. I don’t know where he got it from.” Admittedly, you’re rambling with sudden nerves at the thought of Jihoon rejecting your invitation, but you can’t stop yourself. “Only if you don’t have plans. Not that I’m assuming you don’t, because you could be very busy and-”

Hearing your name on his tongue for the first time in two weeks cuts you off immediately, lips pressing together as you blink at him with widened eyes. “I don’t have plans. I’d love to have dinner with both of you.”

Juni perks up as your tense posture deflates a little with relief. “Mr Lee eat dinner too?!” She shrieks, then squeaks and leans towards him when he nods in confirmation.

Jihoon smiles, lighting up in that truly precious smile you haven’t seen in weeks as he steps forward to take your daughter from your arms. Juni immediately cuddles up to him and leans her head contently on his shoulder.

You can only watch as you step back to let him into the apartment and shut the door after him. He’s not wearing winter boots now, just trainers, which he easily slips off beside the shoe rack without putting Juni down or removing his caring hold on her.

“I show Mr Lee picture now?” Juni asks and you just nod so she wiggles, prompting the man to put her down.

Jihoon takes the chance to remove his bag and coat to hang on the hooks, then accept her offered hand to toddle after her down the hall to her bedroom as she rabbits on, about you have no idea what, you’re too focused on the sight of the man happily going along with your daughter as if there’s nowhere that he’d rather be.

Though before he disappears into her bedroom, he looks over at you and smiles in a way that makes you believe that perhaps, there’s one other place he’d be just as happy to be.

Although you had assumed Jihoon would make excuses to leave after dinner is over, he doesn’t. He stays to help clean up. He stays to sit on the couch with Juni on his lap to watch far too much TV for a school night. He stays to read Juni a bedtime story with you, both of you sitting either side of her on her double bed that dwarfs her but fits the three of you perfectly. And he stays to return to the couch with you and look at you with a soft, content smile that hasn’t left his features all evening.

“I think she might’ve been right,” you comment after you’ve both just been sitting for a couple of quiet, peaceful minutes curled up facing one another, knees almost touching with the sides of your heads on the back rest.

“About what?”

“I’m stupid.”

Jihoon chokes out a surprised laugh at your words, making you smile. “I think you’re far from stupid but I’m clearly missing something here, so please do elaborate.”

“You look happy now.”

“I feel happy now.”

“Because of me?” You ask, hope tilting your words upwards.

“Yeah, but also your precious daughter. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d want any child I have to be like her.”

“You want children?”

“I never used to.” He shrugs a little.

“When did that change?”

“September, when a ball of love and energy spilled half a cup of dirty water over her own painting and proceeded to laugh like a maniac while splashing her tiny hands in the mess.”

You can’t help but laugh, knowing that he’s talking about Juni’s very first day at nursery, when she came out covered in dried paint and Jihoon had repeatedly apologised to you about the mess.

“Then I met her mother,” he continues, making your gentle laughter trickle away, hearing the softness in his tone. “And instead of getting angry at me or blaming me for the lack of spare clothes in her child’s backpack like other parents have before, she just laughed and said she’d try to remember to pack spare clothes for the next day. And she did. I had to change her daughter the next day when she tripped and fell in a muddy puddle, and when I told her mother, she only asked if her daughter made the most of being in the puddle. Which, she did; that child always makes the most of being a mess and has taught her friends to do the same.”

“Oops,” you offer with a sheepish smile.

Jihoon chuckles and shakes his head. “Even though it means I have to change and dry at least one child a day now, I wouldn’t ever change it. That little girl is the most amazing child. She’s allowed to be a child while still being emotionally intelligent enough to be the most caring and supportive five-year-old I’ve ever had the pleasure of teaching. I’m dreading the day I have to watch her move on at the end of the year. I don’t want to let her go.”

“She has that effect,” you confirm with a pleased smile at the thought of how much love there is directed at your daughter, which you hope only grows as she does.

“She gets it from her mother.” Jihoon looks between your bodies to where your hands are clasped together around your knees before he reaches out to touch your hand. His lips twitch up a little further when you release your hold to allow him to take one of your hands into his. “Do you think that perhaps, maybe her mother will give me the chance to prove myself to her? That I’m worthy to be by her side and maybe one day, not any day soon; I know it’ll take a long time to get to that point, but maybe one day, I can perhaps have the honour of being a part of her daughter’s life too outside of school?”

“You really want that?” You whisper. Jihoon nods, still looking at your hand as he traces his thumb over your knuckles, entranced by the divots and bumps. “Please look at me, Jihoon,” you plead as you lift your head. He pauses, takes a breath, then looks up at you slowly. Noticing that you’re no longer leaning against the backrest entirely, he straightens up a little too, to match your position. “I think that she already adores you.”

“The mother or daughter?” He replies and swallows thickly.

“Both of us.”

Jihoon’s eyes start to shimmer with joy. “Really? Y-you mean that?”

“Yeah.”

“I fucking adore you both too,” he replies with a sudden heavy exhale. “I like you so much, more than I ever thought I could like someone and that says something because I was convinced that I was in love with my last girlfriend and wanted to marry her.”

“Are you saying that you like me more than the woman you wanted to marry?” You deadpan.

Jihoon opens and closes his mouth a few times in the perfect fish imitation before his cheeks bloom a beautiful, precious pink and he smiles sheepishly at you. “I guess so?”

“Sounds serious,” you tease.

He chuckles and nods. “It does, huh? At least you know that this isn’t something casual or inconsequential to me. If you’d give me the chance, I’d devote myself to you for the rest of my life. You really are my happiness.”

“That’s…I don’t want to be someone’s only reason for being happy, Jihoon. I want you to have joy outside of me too. I already have one person who is dependent on me, and I refuse to accept another, unless I birth them so-” Jihoon suddenly making a strange, choking type sound, cuts you off, causing you to look at his rapidly reddening cheeks with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, yep. Great! I’m great!” He almost wheezes.

“Liar. What is it?”

“Nothing,” he squeaks and squeezes your hand a little. “So uh, is-is that like…something you’d want?”

“You?”

“Another baby,” he blurts, before hiding his blushing face in his hands. “Ignore me, please.”

“No,” you snort a laugh and shuffle closer to pull his hands down from his face. He lets you, but tilts his head downwards to try and hide, though looks at you through his lashes. You’re pretty sure he isn’t intentionally making himself look so cute, yet he looks utterly adorable. “Let’s just start with a date first, yeah?”

“A date?” You nod. Although he’s still very pink, he lifts his head. “I’d really like that.”

“Me too. But I think we should take it slow; you’re still Juni’s teacher and I don’t want to complicate anything. I know you favour her and I’m not going to stop that, but I don’t want anyone to make assumptions that it’s just because you’re fucking me.”

“Fucking you,” he whispers, eyes going a little dazed, up until you laugh, and then he’s groaning and hiding his face in the cushion of the backrest. “I’m so fucking lame. Please pretend you haven’t seen me being so pathetic, so you don’t lose interest.”

“I don’t think you’re lame or pathetic,” you giggle and reach out to gently wiggle your fingers between his cheek and the fabric until he lets you lead him back upright and facing you. You take a moment to focus on curving your palm against his cheek and then soften as he tilts into your hold as if it’s already nothing more than instinctual to seek out your touch. “I think you’re precious, Lee Jihoon.”

Jihoon takes a stuttered breath in before he curls his hand around your wrist to hold onto you as if he’s afraid you’ll cease to exist if he doesn’t. “Is asking to kiss you going too fast?”

You don’t answer, not verbally at least. You extend your thumb to brush against the edge of his bottom lip, smiling as they part softly before you lean in, and he eagerly mirrors your position to meet you halfway with a simple, yet oh so sweet, kiss.

“I really hope you’ll always think I’m precious enough to remain with you,” he admits in a whisper, lips almost brushing yours as his free hand lifts to cup your face adoringly.

“I’m not worried about that at all,” you assure confidently then tug him back in for another soft kiss.

It’s not a lie either, you’re not at all worried that Jihoon will ever be anything but precious to you; you truly can’t imagine him ever doing a thing to change that particular opinion of yours.

What you are worried about, however, is how your daughter will react to you dating for the first time in her life, especially when it’s Jihoon who you’re dating. You hope that she thinks of him as equally as precious as you do, and she’ll be happy about it.

Though you can’t think of that now; you have a precious man to kiss until your lips are swollen and the pink of his cheeks threatens to become permanent. You’ll let your daughter’s reaction to the news be a problem for future you. You have more immediate matters to focus on, after all.

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[simons-simp]

Hook, Line & Sinker | Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader

Fisherman!Ghost, slowburn, afab reader

Part 3 | Previous

The smell of damp earth and petrichor filled your lungs, as the pine needles crunched under your wellies. The birds had come back after the heavy rain and sang loudly on the tops of the trees around you. Your eyes were darting to your legs regularly, paranoid for any mosquitos. When you had arrived there had been swarms of them following you, something you didn't know was common for the area, but maybe it was because there was a lagoon so close by.

In the distance you can always hear the ocean. Its presence is like a backdrop, never ending. You're not used to it - it's as if you were near some large waterfall or there was always strong wind over a hill nearby - that low constant rumble. You could feel the mosquito bites on your foot itching, inaccessible. You tried to focus your mind on the forest around you, the occasional stir of the trees above you, as your mind thought about this new situation of yours. Away from friends and family, it's what you had wanted, no? To get away from it all? The responsibilities of being a loved one? Have you been able to completely switch your phone off? Not really. Even though there were mostly low cellular bars on most of the land, you still desperately clung to it, tethered to the familiarity it brought you.

You climbed over your first hill. The trees here looked like they had been bent over from a storm, although you weren't sure - tire tracks marked the sandy earth and you could suppose this had been man made as well. But ahead of you lay a fallen branch from a tree, it's yellow flowers now laying on the soil. It was quite large but you felt like if you were any stronger you could have moved it out of the way. You stepped around it, noting that up the second hill lay another one of these. Looks like the wind and storm yesterday did more damage than you would have thought.

When you reached the beach, you gasped. Today it was a turbulent green, and close, much closer than last time to the dunes. This time, you were alone on the beach. You looked down the long stretch, on your left where you couldn't even see the end of it, and on your right, the coastal town. As if like some magic, you suddenly felt the sun on your back. The clouds had parted and you could see the blue sky, something that when you had been on the land, you hadn't yet seen that morning. You did feel freer here - the dunes outstretching for miles, parallel to a wild Atlantic ocean. The wind strong, but not so strong as to destabilise you, just enough to give you gasps of fresh air. And no mosquitos.

You relished that you were alone. No large lumbering fisherman you had to keep your eye on. Just you, the wild ocean, and the sun, bringing out her gorgeous hues of greens. You loved how she was always a different colour, always unpredictable. And always wild. Watching the waves crash, one after the other, never stopping on the sand, it felt like she was giving you permission to also be loud, unstoppable, and strong. Not caring if it disturbed anyone, or was too much. The ocean was the ocean, that's just how it was. You held onto your hat tightly, not wanting it to fly off your head unexpectedly. This time, there was no fisherman to grab it before it got lost into the waves.

You noticed the waves were getting closer. Your eyes couldn't help but fall down to the shells and stones again that littered at your feet. You crouched over, your eyes scanning for any interesting one. Once you started to find one or two that piqued your interest, it was hard to stop. You pocketed them into your hand and picked a fragment of a shell. It was orange and striped, but the stripes looked like they belonged to Jupiter or the rings of Saturn. There was something unearthly about it, and in a way, it was. You thought about how the ocean was less explored than space, even though it was right there, just a few feet from you. The wind was really picking up but you kept your head down, looking for more treasures, your hand moving past the first layers of shells and digging a little deeper into the sand. Maybe there were more layers here to uncover.

You were startled when a shadow covered the shells in front of you. You stumbled backwards, and landed on your ass, suddenly very aware of how cold and wet this beach was. You quickly looked up, although you had to crane your neck to actually fully see the behemoth standing above you. It was him.

"You betta watch out b’for' the waves take ye." He said. His voice easily cut over the sound of the crashing waves, a mere few metres away. You didn't know how to respond. You focused on standing back up, your shells now strewn back into the sand and mixed up with the others. You unsteadily came back to your feet, and roughly rubbed your sandy hands against your trousers roughly.

"I was being careful." Is the only thing that finally comes into your mind to answer him. After all, who is he to tell you what to do on the beach? You curse the gods above you for ruining your privacy, and almost as a response, the sunshine that had warmed you so nicely between the strong gusts of wind, was covered behind a large grey cloud. Well, that wasn't coming out any time soon. And where on earth had he come from?

He didn't answer you, just stood staring at you, hands deep into his black waterproof coat, black mask covering his face. Was he sick?

"Not fishing today?" You say, noticing his lack of gear.

"S'my off day." He replies shortly. Another silence. What is he waiting for, what does he want?

You shift your weight onto your other foot and you feel a chill run up your spine. It suddenly hits you that you two are completely alone on this beach. The layer of security that you always feel wrapped around you suddenly feels like it's been violently ripped away.

You try to cling onto the normal, the casual, and give him a small smile, the kind you give to a stranger you acknowledge across the street.

"Ok well, I'm gonna-"

"Let me buy ye a drink" he interrupts. It's like he knew you were trying to slither away. The request surprises you, both because it's still before midday, and because you find it hard to imagine a man like him asking to buy anyone a drink.

"Um... Right now? I still haven't had lunch yet and..." you don't know why but your words fail you. While you started speaking you had made eye contact, deep brown eyes and blond wisps of eyelashes, and his stare was so intense, so smouldering, that you didn't know exactly what you were trying to say to him. You didn't want to go for a drink right? Or did you? Suddenly you weren't so sure of yourself.

"Come on, I know a nice pub where they make a good fish n chips." He says, and he suddenly begins to move past you, hands still on his pockets, as he starts to walk down to the coastal town in the distance. You stand there for a few seconds, watching him walk away…

No one is forcing you to go, and you had to admit there was something about him that creeped you out - maybe the way it seemed he didn't know how to make normal conversation, or his unnaturally large size. But your legs began to walk towards him, following, a few paces behind, before your mind could actually make a decision.

You didn't bother to try and keep up with his strides, content to be a little behind, watching the back of his neck where his short blonde hair started, and you could make out the edge of a black tattoo, whenever the collar of his rainproof jacket moved down with his steps.

You had to admit, there was something a bit off putting about him, like the smell coming from his stall. What should have been a smell you usually enjoy - fresh salty ocean - was mixed in with death and guts: smells that should have stayed contained. The glassy eyes of the fish staring at you, as if to blame them for their predicament, their cold cadavers now laying on ice chips. Perhaps the smell of the dead fish served to cover his own smell of death that came off him.

[annyankers]

for all the amicability in the whirlwind later on i think it's really important to never lose sight of why dru was turned and then why she in turn sired spike. she was tortured and turned for angelus' enjoyment, her continued suffering brings him pleasure. he owns her, she is a Thing to him and she has no way to escape this. she makes spike to be "her brave knight" a position that, especially in fairytales, means a very romantic man physically protects and serves a woman who is usually gonna end up being some kind of damsel in distress.

while yes dru is evil and a vampire she's still obviously very upset about what happened to her and those moments seem to be her times of lucidity, not delusion. not to mention that she's already been beaten out of the notion that she can escape angelus, she tried to as a human and it didn't work, it likely won't work now either, especially if darla sides with him. but with spike around there's someone who basically always takes her side and fights to keep angelus away from her. who is, at least, a buffer between her and her tormentor. he also takes care of her and validates her, something neither darla or angelus seem to be interested in doing at all.

i feel like people tend to intellectually remember what happened to her but forget that it you know, has long lasting consequences when say, they evaluate her behavior in late s2 when angelus comes back. like... yeah ofc she goes back to appeasing him and shit. spike's a wheelchair and she was beaten into shape to be "daddy's little girl" (gag) YEARS before she even MET spike. her abuser is back and her defender is out of commission not to mention her whole view of reality has been actively warped by the most narcissistic sleezoid around.

and all the reasons why people love spike or point to as why he's better with buffy or whatever.... dru was the one who saw those first and picked him because of those. like... it's wild to see people act like they spent a loveless century together and spike was just used the whole time when we SEE them literally in love, he states MULTIPLE times she means so much to him and we get an OUTSIDE SOURCE CONFIRM THEY HAVE "AFFECTION AND JEALOUSY FOR EACH OTHER". we have the spike we know of today because drusilla saw the hero in him and wanted him to rescue her. and ya know, he kinda did. multiple times. over a century of deep, mutual horrifying love. you only even GET spike and buffy in the same ROOM because he loved dru so much he saved her from a mob, traveled with her across a continent (maybe 2 depending on direction) and over an ocean for even a SHOT at a cure. like... cMON.

this got a little off topic into some of my pet peeves but also kinda not because just-- i don't think people always remember that dru is still a victim and a victim who was intentionally frozen the moment of maximum despair and internal destruction. then spent about 20 years being groomed by her tormentor before she ever had anyone care about her as a priority. i think people tend to forget that it was angelus who wanted to turn spike into a monster and drusilla who wanted him to be a hero. it's dru who gives him his swagger, his confidence, his love for life, who encouraged his romanticism and adored his poetics. it's not that she groomed or built him, but just that she saw all that potential already in there and facilitated it and nurtured it. sure in a fucked up vampire way but still.

[misguidedasgardian]

AMOR VINCINT OMNIA VI.

VI. Thesis

MASTERLIST

Summary: There was no such thing as settling 

Warnings: Use of she/her pronouns, reader has hair, Ancient Rome AU accuracies and inaccuracies, arranged marriages, age difference (Marcus is late forties reader is 20), cursing, we are shorter than Marcucs, reader is touch starved, depression, angst, reader is lonely, life threatening disease, gladiator fights, animal slaughtering for ritualistic purposes, MIGHT MISS SOME WARNINGS

Notes: Ufff another chapter of which i had scenes written before the prologue! uuhhh

“Ubi tu Gaius, Ego Gaia”, if she was acting, it was very convincing, you thought. As you looked at your mother and you could see, clear as day, the adoration lurking in her eyes.

Perhaps she did like him at least, he was a handsome man, his hair already painted a bit white though, but now you understood where Lucius got his looks. 

Speaking of Lucius, you felt his gaze on you, but you tried to ignore it.

His villa was the greatest and most lavish thing you have ever seen, tall walls and ample spaces, everywhere you looked there was gold, golden statues, marble pillars painted with gold, lavish pools with the most beautiful mosaics you had seen. 

A huge garden, where you stood now, the smell of various flowers hit your senses.

It was customary that the ceremony was done in your mother’s villa, in the Palatine HIll, but… this was her second marriage, and he was Consus Licinio Craso, so, things were… different, they differed from tradition altogether. . 

As you gazed on those who had gathered there, all of Rome, mostly, you were saddened to not see Publio, he had also left, his mission took him North, northern still across the sea to Britannia, even norther, to the border with Caledonia. 

You couldn’t wait for him to return to hear about his stories, you were sure they were going to be great. 

But now you were being drawn to the present by the squealing of the sacrificed pigs.

Why did you always find yourself witnessing that?

Three times in less than a year, including your own in your own wedding.

You took a long breath, the metallic smell of blood reaching even you, standing at the side.

Oh Marcus

He had been gone for four weeks, missed the whole betrothal and wedding, and signing of contracts and all. 

With your friend gone to really witness the “afters” of her wedding, you were really beginning to think it wasn’t a big deal to begin with, it was only a signed paper, which you could undo, so… the theatrical of it all started to bore you.

You stifled a whimper as you looked down in shame

You were becoming a cynic

You were becoming something dark, that you didn’t want to be

You wondered where that sweet girl was, the one who had woken up one morning happy that the sun was shining, and was optimistic about her future, about her arranged marriage, you wondered where she was.

You wondered what she’d think, to look at herself now, crying everyday, alone, so alone.

She’d be terrified of what the future held for her.

“Run”, you’d tell her, “get in a Trirreme for Alexandria, go live in a small farm in the edge of the Nile, raise goats or something, do not fall in love unless they fall in love with you first”

“FELICITER!”, everyone cheered and you had no choice but to pretend you had said it too, and to start clapping. 

As the lavish feast started, you stayed in the garden, trying not to gaze at Lucius with a beautiful young woman dangling from his strong arm. He had been betrothed, which had been a long time coming, you wondered how it didn’t happen sooner, and then you remembered he had been aiming for you for years.

Years

And it all had come to this, you thought as you gazed upon your mother and Consus, speaking inside with senators, he was your new stepfather, your paterfamilias, if you hadn't married Marcus first of course. 

Your mother relinquished all her rights on you to him, you were his, Marcus’ if you divorced him, you wouldn’t get nothing, you couldn’t be your own person, you’d be dependent on him even if you wanted to marry somebody else.

You should have said something when you knew, to protest, to question, but you trusted your mother and she trusted him, so…

It seemed like there was no way out for you. 

You took a seat in a stone bench by one of the fountains, letting the sun fall around you, leaving you in darkness. You’ve come to like the dark though, in this weeks,  it shielded you, you felt like you could put down your mask, especially in crowded events like this, you could stop pretending that everything was fine.

But nothing could be hidden from your mother, who took a seat right by your side.

“Your guests will miss the honored woman”, you mumbled

“They can wait”, she whispered. “How have you taken Marcus’ absence?”. she asked, and you cringed at the name, because she always called him Acacius, calling him by his first name would be an act of familiarity you thought only belonged to you.

“I’m fine”

“I’m glad”, she said, “Because I will be gone for a couple of months”, you looked back at her, alarmed. “We are going to Greece”, she whispered, with a soft smile and a strange shine in her eyes. “Consus fixed this Trirreme, with golden statues and luxury”, as she spoke, you were looking at her carefully, and you couldn’t believe that was your mother at all. You didn’t recognize her, you thought she didn’t care about all that. 

“For long?”, you asked

“Just a couple of months”, she whispered, she eyed you carefully, you nodded. Marcus’ departure had already left you heartbroken enough not to care much, and you had barely seen your mother since you married Marcus anyways.

They all leave

You wondered when Cecilia was going to come back from Sicily .

You missed her terribly. 

“I wish you have a great time, mother”, you whispered

“I’ll leave you to care for Rome”, she said as she would like you were a small child, you only nodded. she caressed the side of your face and your hair. “You have become a woman in this short months”, she admired, caressing your cheeks

Is misery the real barrier between a girl and a woman?

The night ended with little to less excitement for you.

And speaking of excitement…

The twin emperors of Rome were hosting their first games, in celebration of your mothers nuptials. It was set to be a great event, ten days filled with gladiator battles, performances of the greatest glories of Rome, for one, they were going to fill the Colosseum with water to reenact a naval battle.

It was going to be a great spectacle

And for the first time, your heart wasn’t in it.

As you sat there, next to your mother, watching the battles, the blood, the chariots that used to fill you with excitement, you felt little to nothing.

Maybe it was the line between girlhood or womanhood.

That nothing thrilled you anymore.

The spectacle was great, showcasing Rome’s might that still lingered after all the efforts of your grandfather. 

It was still bittersweet. 

You had been raised with whispers of the power and might of the blood that flowed through your veins and yet here you stood, alone, at this point you truly believed you were going to be alone forever.

As you were married now, seemed like you had turned invisible, the men that used to smile and you and talked to you barely gazed upon you, and well, their wives would draw small talk from you, but not completely engaging as your mother and you always kept a close circle, now you knew why, because of the emperors, but still, that meant you had few friends. 

So as everyone was watching the spectacle of gladiators killing each other, you looked at the people, all of them in the pulvinus, to those closest to it. All with wide smiles but your mother, her disgust for blood hidden in the small branches of lavender tangled around her fingers. 

“My sweet, you should come with us”, she offered after the spectacle was over, you looked at her expectantly, “you should come stay with us, in Consus’ villa”, she explained, grabbing onto your forearm, you just watched her silently, then, behind her in the pulvinus, you saw lucius, looking at you with a look that was hard to define 

“I prefer to retrieve myself to the comfort of my home”, you said quickly, you grabbed onto your mother’s hand and squeezed, “I’ll see you soon, mother”. 

You made sure to not come back to the Colosseum for the rest of the game, claiming you were feeling a bit unwell.

You missed what the entire city called the greatest fight they had ever seen. As regards the flooding and the boats included. 

But you had other things to occupy your mind. 

You had hired three painters, who were now drawing very graphic pictures of battles, myths across the walls of the triclinium and atrium, and then some more erotic scenes near your personal rooms and the bath room. 

With the height of spring on you it seemed like the most logical place to start, with arts, as you grew your garden slowly. 

You realize you found solace and contentment while making your villa a home, making it more beautiful, more lively, as if Marcus was not going to give you a family, at least you could spend the money on fixing your surroundings. 

He told you could do it anyways.

You had bought tapestries from Greece, as beautiful amphoras for the oils and grains, beautifully carved wood furniture from Nubia, the finest cottons you had seen from Alexandria, and you had made tunics for you, Thulia and Diana for the coming summer. 

From Alexandria you also had purchased scrolls, with ancient tales of Egypt and Carthage, they were all in Greek, but… you knew how to read it thankfully. 

You didn't even feel guilty when you bought yourself some nice jewelry. a beautiful bracelet of a snake slithering around your forearm.

You used to look at the Roman Eagle with admiration, owls seeking for wisdom and the mythical animal that had fed Romulus and Remus, the founders of Rome itself, the wolves, with reverence.

But as you gazed on that golden snake you’d realise, It had its own qualities, it was sneaky, slithering about on the tall grass, quiet, with the ability of changing its skin, being born again as it were. You wore it everyday now. 

You received missives from your mother who was travelling through the islands of Greece, and you would enjoy her tales of beautiful sights. 

And you were not going to lie, for when you found yourself alone, in your cold room at night, you felt incredible jealousy.

That ship had been built for Lucius and you, he had said so himself, and yet, you laid there, alone, and your mother was aboard it, with her new husband that would take her with him in his journeys.

You didn’t care about the gold, about the boat, about the golden coins, but, you did care about… well… about being married to someone who actually wanted you.

With tumultuous thoughts and dark dreams you managed to actually wake up when the sun was on the horizon. 

And the days, turned to weeks, turned to a couple of months…. 

“I do not think this is a good idea”, you said, stifling a giggle, when you saw the work

 You were correcting one of the painters, who had drained one of the impluvium and was installing a beautiful mosaic 

“I did this to your image, domina”. the man explained, oh yes, he had immortalized you in tiny pieces of beautifully colored stones, the problem was that you were naked, and it was clearly you. “Nobody would tell”, he said lightly, “it’ll be a secret between you and me”, you only shook your head and let him keep to it. 

“Put more jasmines and laurels around it though, it might distract those who gaze upon it o the likeness to me”, you jested, and he chuckled, shaking his head but was determined to please you.

But again, as you started to find some kind of rhythm to your life… someone came and disrupted it.

You heard a commotion outside your villa’s gates, horses neighing, voices shouting, people complaining.

“A legionnaire had never crossed Roman’s gates in the last hundred years”, someone shouted, and if you weren’t in the atrium itself, you wouldn’t have heard any of it.  

And from a second to the nest, both the thick wooden doors of your home opened widely, you jumped where you stood as you truly believed they were going to kill you or something, but no.

“What’s wrong?”, you asked, alarmed, as the atrium, from one moment to the next, was filled with legionnaires, and medicus. Four soldiers carried Marcus himself who laid in a grabatum

It had happened quickly, you had received news from your husband himself that himself as his army had managed to cross the Mediterranean and reached Tarraco, a port in Hispania, and everything went well.

The letter was very formal, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

And now this… two months after

“The General has fallen ill my lady”, Quintus, his right hand man said, placing his arm across his chest in sign of respect towards you

“Is he going to be alright?”, you asked, concerned, you followed the soldiers to Marcus’ rooms, you reached it just when he was being placed gently in his bed

“The General started feeling unwell after we reached Tarraco”, he said, “he refused treatment, and the idea of returning, but three days ago, we had to put him in the first Trirreme back to Rome my lady, he caught a fever in the journey”

“Nobody cared for him in Terraco?”, you asked him, anger started bubbling inside of you

“We… couldn’t trust anybody with the health of the general”, he said carefully, you nodded, your eyes returning to his shaky form on the bed

“We had not managed to break the fever”, said a medicus, that wore some reduced version of the armor, he must have been the one who went with them to treat their wounds…. battle wounds

When you saw your husband there, his forehead sweaty and heavy breathing, is like everything your mother ever thought you came back to you.

You grabbed Diana who was passing by the arm a bit rougher, but this was not the time for pleasantries

“Go to the market, NOW, bring me ginger, chamomile and coriander if you find it”

“Yes Domina”, she said quickly, and ran to fulfill your command, understanding the emergency.

“Thulia!”, you called, and she was by your side in a minute, “bring me a bucket of fresh water, and some linens”, you commanded, she nodded and went quickly

“My lady…”, called the medicus with warning

“I know what I’m doing”, you said firmly.

Since the fresh water and linens arrived first, you wasted no time in sitting by Marcus’ side on the bed, you grabbed the linens, soaked them in water, and placed them all over his trembling body

“We tried that already”, said the old man impatiently

“So we gotta keep trying”, you insisted. You needed to lower his body temperature somehow. Diana came running back, giving you the herbs as she took deep accelerated breaths.

“Thank you”, you said, “the mortar”, you called, and for the first time alone, you prepared the tonic your mother had taught you to use for this sort of cases. 

Once ready, you ran to his side, grabbed the back of his head, made him lean in, and you made him drink your concoction. He frowned and fought it, even in his condition, the thing had a strong smell, and a strong taste as well, but you managed to slide it down his throat, and that is what mattered. 

And you dedicate yourself to care for your husband

Fear took a tight grip on you, was he going to die? The bare thought brought tears to your eyes. He was your husband, your mother’s dearest friend and ally, yes he wasn’t caring, but not because of it you wanted him to die.

You had prayed on your home’s altar for his safety, for his health and for his victories, clearly, you had not been heard. 

Hours passed by and you were stuck to his side, changing the rags over his foreheads. You took the liberty of raising his toga, touching his body. it was so odd, the first you had looked upon his naked legs, his intimacy only covered by his subligaria, and yet you did not wasted time to gaze, you touched his belly, and not only you found it hard, by his years of battle and training, but warm, unnaturally warm. 

You took a long breath feeling the air around you, the spring had made sure to warm the land so you wouldn't be traumatizing his body to much lower temperatures. You grabbed a wet rag and placed it on his belly.

He shuddered, but you needed to lower his temperature

And you had tried everything, now it all depended on him, and on the gods. You realised it was already the middle of the night by the time you ended your care. 

He was still burning, but you wanted to believe that he had lowered his temperature somehow. 

You didn’t even notice how everyone left you alone with him, but you didn’t care, as you tried to care for him as much as you could, with everything your mother had taught you. Many had called her a sorceress, accused her of poisoning men like your own uncle, but they didn’t understand. Not really. 

As sleep overtook you, you fell asleep on top of him, clinging onto him, hoping your body temperature would help to lower his. 

.

“You have to eat something domina”, Diana said softly, you nodded, waking up slowly, still hugging Marcus against you. But you separated from him, grabbing little fruit, bread and cheese that she was offering. You grabbed the pitch of water and tried to give it to Marcus, to your relief, he did drink something.

“Bring me more rags, more water”, you said, and Thulia was the one to bring those things to you. “Fetch the medicus”, you asked of them, and both went to find him their separate ways to make it faster. 

You grabbed a bowl and a rag, ready to start your care again for the morning, when he seemed to stir on his sleep. You watched him carefully, but he didn’t open his eyes, but he did open his mouth…

“Lucilla…”, you froze with the damped cloth in your hand, paralyzed, “... my love”, he whispered.

“Marcus?”, you called, but he was deep in lethargy, his eyes closed and his forehead frowned in anguish

“I love you… Lucilla”, he whined. “But I won't…anymore”

Your heart broke in a million pieces, just like the clay bowl you had in your hands that you dropped and fell to the floor. 

So he did prefer women to men, only that the woman he preferred was your mother. It was horrible the way everything seemed to fall into place. Now you understood so many things you wished you never understood. 

“Gods”, you whispered brokenly.

Luckily, the medicus entered the room.

“You have done great domina, he has almost returned to himself!”, he said, relieved, taking your palace by his side, “you should rest, my lady”, he said softly. 

You only nodded, leaving them alone, you walked the now beautiful corridors back to your own room, as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks. 

PCN: uuhh did you saw that coming?

I have re-ratched gladiator I and Lucilla seemed to now a thing or two about tonics, so I wanted to deepen into that.

taglist! @orcasoul @peelieblue @raynetargaryan2 @thereallchristine @sesdeuxyeux @melsunshine @thelastemzy @vjuvbbjugv @cloudroomblog @capycapy-bara @lokiwife2021 @whirlwindrider29 @peepawispunk @syd-maximoff @ayoungpascallover

[hoiststowline]

Can we get some Hound x reader hcs if you're able pls? No pressure!

_hound x reader hc's

[a/n: anon i know you only sent this last night but anytime i see a hound request i can't help myself. i love writing for him.]

one wouldn't think so, but it's immeasurably difficult to figure out things that hound likes. he has an excellent memory too, so he's all over it whenever you mention things you enjoy, offhand or not. you return the gesture with things you conclude he'd admire, but you are never really certain if he actually does. he's never said/did anything to make you think otherwise, but you want to do everything in your power to ensure that you aren't being inattentive or heedless. it comes to the point of just asking cliffjumper, wondering what his knowledge is on the subject. when you ask, cliff appears surprised, then offers you a wildly unexpected answer. "you," cliffjumper deadpans, feigning annoyance with your question, something you know because he ultimately continues. "he likes you. when you're not here, all he thinks about the next time he gets to see you."

roadtrips, any chance either of you get. hound loves them, even if sometimes they are far too short for his liking. planning longer trips are not impossible, but are for sure more difficult in execution, taking much trial and error. it requires a lot of begging and cashing in favors for both of your schedules to mesh perfectly well for a week, and it's then you two can navigate across the country to wherever he so desires. he's so impressed by your knowledge and information of monuments or the environment, even if they are random facts or things you recall from school. hound could listen to you talk forever, guilty of sometimes looking at you instead of the various stops. you look so happy, and that's all he wants.

hound is known for his gentleness and protectiveness, something that translates into his relationship with his s/o. the first time you would display raw trust to him is likely falling asleep in his cabin or in his presence, your subconscious allowing you to rest because you knew you were safe. he understands full well that sometimes he is too trusting or loyal to a fault, known to have been burned many of times before. hound keeps those important to him very close, so actually witnessing someone display trust in him?? he's melting on the spot, so full of love. he can't think about anything else, captivated by the way your chest rises and falls with each breath.

if he's away for a while, it's rather heavy weight on his shoulders. it's mostly guilt, apologetic that he has to be apart from his s/o for circumstances beyond his control. reunions are what keeps him from dwelling on it too long, temporarily satisfied with quick messages or brief phone calls. of course, nothing will ever suffice the simple action of being with you in person, but he's got responsibilities, as do you. hound is sentimental, he’s a little sappy in seeing you after a long time apart. “I missed you,” isn’t enough, it’s so much more than that, fighting to display his emotions all at once.

hound is more than likely a night owl, even if he doesn't have to recharge as frequently as you do. he is rather fond of driving around at night, listening to the radio, entranced by whatever music passes him by. if you were to join him, it would make him the happiest mech in the world, stereo humming as he converses with you. he definitely picks/saves songs that remind him of you, and adores it when you can recall lyrics from memory.

he for sure has a green friendship bracelet that hangs from his rear view mirror, something you've made that he treasures greatly. it's got one silver star charm on it, a call back to the silver star emblem on his right shoulder. the moment you'd looped it around his mirror, he had sputtered out a "thank you! ah love it!", but he also couldn't quite get over that you had made such a sweet thing for him.

hype-man, hound is your number one hype-man. anything you're unsure about he's there with sound advice, wanting to ease your nerves or anxiety the in any way he can. if you send him outfit ideas from fitting rooms, immediately he's all over it. hound is so infatuated with you, he thinks you look great in everything. "that doesn't help!" you laugh, stuck between two pairs of jeans when he tells you they both look amazing. he's just lucky no one is around to hear his fans kick on, finding it impossible to not fawn over you. you're perfect to him, and he is literally head-over-heels in love with you. <3