#perhaps i can start writing my characters after this
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kirkodiletears · 3 days ago
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This used to be a part of a post, but I decided to make it into a separate one, because it speaks of crusual things for understanding SVSSS, it's plot and it's characters.
As I found out recently, there's a huge misunderstanding going on in the English-speaking segment, probably dew to an English translation of SVSSS (only a speculation, I myself never had this problem, although I read in several other languages as well, so I can compare) concerning the fact whether or not PIDW was originally planned by Airplane as a yaoi with bingqiu as an OTP. (Spoiler: yes, it was). Some readers are mislead by two quotes, that they take as a contradictory, which in truth, they are NOT.
The first one is from a Chapter "The story begins". It is the last chapter of the novel, after this the extras start. And this particular chapter is a culmination: this is where the truth is reveled. Like in a detective story, where we finally find out, who the killer is. This meant to become a real "bomb", that makes a reader go WOOOW!!! And this is THE KEY for understanding the whole story: the plot and the characters, especially Luo Bing-mei (and Luo Bing-ge). And it speaks about the original INTENTIONS of the Airplane, that he betrayed in order to please the crowd and that came true in the universe of the System. (original scrapped outline(c))
The second quote, from the extras, on the other hand speaks of an EXISTING PIDW, (original outline(c)), that he actually wrote, but never finished, because he died and woke up in the Universe of the System. And it gives us a glimpse into the way he planned to finish it.
The first quote, from the final chapter:
Shen Qingqiu looked him up and down. “You don’t look crushed at all after all this foolish messing around ended up completely changing your own novel.”
Shang Qinghua said, “You can’t say it like that ah. Maybe you think it’s just all foolish messing around that isn’t worth a damn, but for Bing-ge, your foolish messing around is probably the meaning of this entire world.”
... holy s***, Great God Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was able to say something like that?!
Shen Qingqiu was terrified. “F***. You didn’t turn back into the original character, did you?”
Shang Qinghua said seriously, “Don’t be like that. I’m also a young person with literary ideals. Of course, I have my own reflections and emotions.”
Shen Qingqiu laughed coldly. “What literary ideals? How come all I saw in the original work was shameless fanservice?” Not to mention his hand speed that could produce ten thousand words a day, and the courage to even occasionally explode with twenty thousand. If he didn’t have such equipment, there was no way 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》 would have been able to hold out before it was serialized!
Shang Qinghua spread his hands. “You think that I always wrote shameless content that lacked any integrity from the very start? I’ve also written belles-lettres4 before, but they were all unpopular, so I had no choice but to go down a path that catered to the masses. It must be said that writing novels is a very lonely undertaking. Rather than writing a stallion male protagonist who’ll be stereotypical in the end, it’s more in line with my philosophy for writing to create the current Bing-ge━this kind of weirdo male protagonist whose character is a bit more complicated, has contradictions and conflicts, and has a rough destiny.”
Shen Qingqiu concluded, “So, your philosophy for writing is to write about gay guys?”
Shang Qinghua: “Do you look down upon gay male protagonists? Works of art and artists all like to create gay guys. Belles-lettres favors gays, do you know that?”
He waved his arms wildly and passionately. “Cucumber Bro, if the System hadn’t chosen you, this faithful die-hard reader, perhaps the plot wouldn’t have deviated so thoroughly, thoroughly to the point that it deviated all the way back to my original scrapped outline. Even though the me back in reality━who couldn’t endure the loneliness and was under financial pressure━chose to finish writing 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》 according to other people’s preferences and what they found cool... now, all thanks to you, essentially everything that I wanted to write has already unfolded in front of my eyes. Cucumber Bro!”
He patted Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders with deep sentiment and solemnity. “You... are the chosen one; as for my career, I have no more regrets!”
... why did it sound like the System and this world were both products of Shang Qinghua’s resentment over scrapping that outline and going with what was mainstream?
Shen Qingqiu, who shamefully became this kind of “chosen one”: “Who’s your faithful die-hard reader?”
Shang Qinghua waved his hand and one-sidedly declared his victory. “I’m not going to talk to you; you’re an anti-fan.”
Shen Qingqiu was about to say, “I’m only an anti, not a fan!” when he suddenly heard Shang Qinghua starting crooning something like, “Emotions are warm, kindness hard to bear, lips moving together, desires turning the evening to the next morning, never resting from dawn to dusk.” The crucial point was that melody, which sounded extremely familiar to the point that it made Shen Qingqiu’s hands and teeth itch. He pointed at him and said, “Shang Qinghua, what are you singing?”
Shang Qinghua continued to croon. “The warmth of emotions makes gratitude hard to bear. Lips to lips, locked in a kiss. Let this night linger ‘til tomorrow’s dawn. Day after day, night after night; never to end. Will tomorrow be another today? When ‘til Zheng Yang reaches its zenith? As Zheng Yang ascends, the voice of Autumn stirs. A sheathless Xiu Ya, a spurt of cold nectar. Tragic pleas amidst choked sobs, thus in vain; for he rises again5...”
Shen Qingqiu was in disbelief. “F*** you—why don’t you just try and sing another line?”
Shang Qinghua said, “Great Lord Shen, why aren’t you listening to what I’m saying? You must never go around casually f***ing people. Bing-ge will go crazy. I’m telling you, this Resentment of Chunshan is equivalent to Shi Ba Mo6. You two are the legendary national homos, do you understand? I have no problems with you shutting me up, but ultimately it’s useless. You can’t possibly make all the countless people in the world shut up...” (NB, Ch 81)
The second quote, from the extras:
【 Basic completion of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s original outline achieved (slight deviation in romance plotline); objective complete. Retrieving function to return to original world; download complete. Activate Return Home sequence? 】 Basic completion of the original outline? That he agreed with. All the holes that needed to be filled had been filled. But this “slight deviation of romance plot” wasn’t quite right. Bing-ge was now fully gay; how could you say that was a “slight deviation”? Ah, fine, fine, in fact, in his original outline, Bing-ge hadn’t even had a romance plotline; he had been doomed to fade away, alone and unaging forever. If you insisted on adding a romance plotline, all right, that was whatever, so putting aside all the System’s rambling…this meant he could return to his original world?! (Seven Seas, Ch. 26)
Basic completion of the original outline and filling it's plotholes - THIS is what's talked about in this quote! Not the scrapped original outline!
The English translation, which I only read recently, in my opinion is not very clear, in comparison to, for example, Russian translations, and not just the most popular version by Псой и Сысой, for ex: there are more than one, and they all pretty much nailed it. 感情线 used in original (that's what, apparently, caused the doubts for some reason, in spite that the quote itself absolutely clearly speaks of 《Proud Immortal Demon Way》’s original outline, the one big "error of a novel", that needed to be redressed, and not the scrapped original outline that never saw the daylight) itself refers to a "romantic plotline". So the author himself tells you, that his original Bing-ge had none. But how come? Why is that? Bing-ge, as we know, has got a huge harem, he for sure cannot be the case of dying alone without love!.. Or can he? Apparently, this is exactly his fate - no love. And the Airplane, the way he planned the original scrapped outline, knows better than anyone else - there's, well, none. The Protagonist's harem is nothing to do with romance whatsoever (see the quote below from the forum as an example, what the readers of PIDW themselves think of the relationship between Bing-ge and his harem). It all has to do with protagonists coolness and power and getting everything, including all the women, because he is super powerful and he is the center of that universe. It's about power, it's about lust, it's about influence and control, and showing, who the real boss is. But not love or romance. PIDW is not a romantic novel in a slightest: its a third rate pornography and a ode to toxic masculinity, so distasteful and disgusting, that the resentment of it's author with his own creation was powerful enough to create the whole new universe (The System) just to correct it! And this particular quote speaks of Bing-ge not having ANY SIGNIFICANT RELATIONSHIP, LOVE. Псой и Сысой for translating 感情线 in this particular case use much more explicit and profound "заслуживающие упоминания эмоциональные привязанности" ("the emotional connections worth mentioning"), rather than abstract "romantic plotline". Because the only significant person in his life pushed Bing-ge away. (And we know, who that person is, thanks to the System Universe - his shizhun.) Romance has nothing to do with the amount of partners he fucks - they are not of any romantic or emotional significance for Bing-ge. This is how his relationship with the harem is described by the PIDW reader's forum in the novel:
"Airplane really doesn’t know how to write romance plotlines, best if he just doesn’t. I feel like Luo Binghe doesn’t have feelings for any of his wives, he just wants to use them. And I can’t see any of those women with real moving emotion for him. "(NB, Ch. 73)
So - no romance for Bing-ge in PIDW, the Airplane didn't grant him this privilege and happiness. And yes - the ending for the tyrant he's become in PIDW is not happy in a slightest.
So, binqui did not appear out of nowhere, and yes - it has always been there from a beginning, in the core of everything. Implied. This is not only canon: it is the exact essence of it, the base, the foundation, which explaines everything that happens in the novel and even beyond - in PIDW, where the mighty protagonist that has everything, except the only one thing he really needs - the love of his shizun - is doomed to an eternal unhappiness and loneliness.
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piesafterdark · 3 days ago
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Predictions for Arcane as a franchise + my thoughts! Season 2, Act 3 spoilers ahead.
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jayce, viktor, and jinx can't be dead. Let me tell you why.
no. 1, Arcane's been pretty explicit with deaths. Silco, Vi and Cait's moms, Benzo, the sergeant from season 1 act 1 etc etc we've all seen dead bodies, time pass without them coming back, or character arcs shifting to accommodate deaths (lsha's and Silco's death shaping Jinx). In season 2, Maddie's, Ambessa's, and random extra's deaths were all shown on screen. Therefore, if we don't see a body, the body's still moving.
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no. 2, while this is Arcane's last season, there's going to be more Runeterra shows. Of course we don't know what's going to happen over there, but I don't think Riot and Fortische are just going to throw Arcane's characters away unless they do. "the arcane is waking up" and all that jazz. Seems to me like the arcane isn't back to sleep, and who has experience with the arcane. Oh, right, all these cool guys. Leading to points 3 and 4.
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no. 3, Jayce's crystal, given to him by the mage (Viktor) in season 1, was used for teleportation, if I remember correctly. Rather than dying/getting sucked into the crystal, they've been teleported somewhere else and will be used to shift the focus onto that location. This fits. Moving to a completely different location would disrupt the glorious evolution. Plus we didn't see their bodies so.
EDIT: apparently it was the rune of insight or smth. my bad. Still, theres a chance? Please Riot, pleaaseee
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from arcanegifs
no. 4, Jinx my beloved. There was a line of shimmer leaving the explosion at the bottom of the pit, and the epilogue of Cait looking at the pit and seeing air ducts hints that Jinx/Powder escaped. I'm pretty sure the Zepplin shown at the end was to imply she left Piltover and Zaun, finally becoming her own person. Throughout the show, her identity was determined by her relationships (hair mirroring Silco's, smoke tattoos for Vi, mental illness from causing her brothers' deaths), and with hallucination Silco suggesting the best way to change the Cycle of Killing is leaving, that's what she chose to do. Additionally, her handwriting for the "the end" at the finale suggests that she was there to write it. She's alive guys trust me. Her change of scenery can be used to shift the focus to a different location.
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My personal Thoughts:
on no. 4, I would hate it if they decided to kill Jinx after she found herself. It's overused. Seeing Jinx/Powder finally become herself without Silco's, Zaun's, and her sister's baggage in a new place would be super interesting. As someone who doesn't play League, I've heard there's some blond character she's shipped with from a different country/city? Foreshadowing perhaps? Plus it'd be so in character for her to start a new series with a chaotic "I bet you're wondering what I did after I faked my death."
Cait and Vi will probably remain in Piltover/Zaun doing reform (the show's whole point). The reason why Vi didn't look super duper sad is probably because she's going through shock or because Cait reassured her that Jinx/Powder isn't dead (air ducts). Ekko's probably going to do reform w/ the power couple because that's his motivation.
The sex scene's context is a bit odd, but Jinx literally gave Vi permission to be with Cait so... ? When life gives you lemons, give your gf head i guess. Wish Cait did apology head though, she really hurt Vi... But then again, Vi probably wanted to get lost in the sauce and forget about everything around her, hence the "I don't fucking care" comment.
Jayce was right, Viktor was blinded. Love that they're in love.
It's so interesting to see Sevika going from backing revolutionaries (Silco and Vander) to becoming a revolutionary herself and actually getting a seat on the council!! She went from kingmaker to king.
Thought season 2 was kinda rushed? Idk wished we had hour long episodes just to flesh things out.... still a great season.
It's not over. With the success this show's been giving Netflix, there's at least twenty more on the horizon. God bless Riot and Fortische.
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going to go cry now.
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clockwork-reveries · 1 year ago
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Anatomy of a Corinthian
Before we get into the specifics, let's get started with what they don't have:
Taste (Some can identify chemicals or composition of something, but not in a taste way,
Smell ( Again, some can detect specific components of the air but not smell it.)
Immune, digestive, urinary, reproductive, endocrine, respiratory, and excretory body systems.
Blood or sweat. They have coolant in their bodies but it is only to keep the body stable.
Tears. They can hold their hands up to their eyes and making sobbing noises, if they are sad, but no real fluid comes out. Some do modify themselves to cry, however.
Limited brain capacity. A Corinthian can multitask. For example, one could be driving a car, adjusting their outfit, talking to someone, and Googling something in their mind and would not lose focus. However, this still takes a lot.
Anything that is biological and is made of cells, not atoms.
The ability to feel nausea, dizziness, or illness. They can get confused or disoriented, though. That's different.
Become inebriated, drugged, or anything through non-electronic means.
The requirement for sleep. They may get exhausted whether it is physically or mentally, but to fix that is by recharging or recovering over time.
the actual anatomy stuff
I won't get too complicated with this.
Corinthians have preset models that have the same template. All D-B5 models are exactly 5'5 or 165.1 cm, for example. They may modify whatever as they wish. Also, all models have numbers before them to signify what generation they are. C model(s) are similar to the Corinthians, and all the letters from then on are later models, who are more useful or fluid that others. They are all created without skin, eye color, and no hair initially.
Due to their lack of many organs and components, they weight similarly to humans.
They have a combination of rigid cable and metal skeletons that mimic that of a humans. Not heavy, but tough enough to withstand more than a human's bones. Actuators that serve as muscles are a combination of inflated air (think of a really strong football) and a rubbery-like tough material. Tendons are more pliant cables. On the surface is synthetic skin, usually created out of recycled plastic. It has some give and stretch, but less than a person. You can see panel lines along the skin, some more subtle than others. The most obvious ones are near the cheekbones, shoulders, or wrists. Sensors, coolant and energy lines, are all underneath the strong layers of skin.
Joints mirror that of a person and have the correct hinge, ball and socket, etc in the right places. Their hair is also plastic, but in a way that seems real rather than cheap and frizzy, mind you. Hair can be simulated to grow longer or shorter.
While the core is the "brain" of the Corinthian, it is located deep within in their chassis like a heart, hooked up to everything. It stores their memories, feelings, code, and more. It can store enough to last a (robot's) lifetime. Inside of their skull is sort of a storage computer, where they can access the internet and store things like images or files. They cannot run most programs like chat apps or games, nor can they play Youtube videos in their brain.
Eyes are little camera. They are hard plastic and their irises can be exchanged and customized just like doll eye chips, oh, and so can the pupils to some extent. They are wired to the core, just like everything else
Noses have no real function due to Corinthians not having airways. They exist because it would look very weird if Corinthians didn't have them.
The insides of the mouths are a very vinyl plastic-like feel,very smooth and needing no salivation in order to talk quickly. Tongues are made of the same rubbery material as skin, just textured differently, and teeth are resin.
Corinthians have some what of a larynx to store their fabricated vocal cords but it ends there. The cords are nearly like rubber bands, and because it is very hard to replicate voices perfectly, most Corinthians have much variation in their voices. However, a little voice-synthesizer box can be used, and they do not even need to open their mouths or anything in order to produce their voices that way. They may also generate a unique voice by sampling a real human one and using their synthesizer to speak.
Corinthians need to recharge. Upon opening the back chassis panel, there is a a wire that may be plugged into any suitable charging device or at least ports that are compatible. Something that is commonly done is siphoning power from your phone when you're tired. Corinthians cannot transfer energy to each other. Coolant is kept in a little storage tank in the very lower part of the chassis to function like a real heart.
Other facts
Models are simply just bases. There are usually no rules against changing how you look whenever, as long as it follows the Corinthian Code of Conduct.
Corinthians can run, jump, spin, and more with ease.
These are just standard facts, some Corinthians have modified themselves to cry, bleed coolant, and more.
These AI can develop mental illnesses, or having permanent coding errors that effect them. Some may not be able to see all the way. move correctly, and more. Changing the code to solve this can set off a chain of strange errors that may ruin a Corinthian entirely, but it is still being looked into.
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astearisms · 1 year ago
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fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started
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shy-sapphic-ace · 1 year ago
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I'm trying to write this story about a noir-type detective and I'm just finding it so difficult?? Like not even for plot or whatever, I think I'm okay with that, but I'm trying so hard to make my detective guy all angsty and broody and dark, like oooh he's so tortured and sad but he handles it like a Man(TM), that kinda stuff, but every time I make him interact with anyone he just ends up being super polite and friendly. He calls everyone Mr. and Miss and old people Sir or Ma'am. Like, earlier I was just writing and the words were coming along well and when I reread it he was talking about this restaurant he likes because "the tea reminds me of how my grandma used to make it :)" It really shows that I have never actually written angst in my life.
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travalerray · 9 months ago
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fanfic writing is always like:
questionable characterisation (not really familiar yet) => oh this is actually good => questionable characterisation (projecting)
#looking at my m/dzs fics and uh#uhhhhhh#J/C and L/WJ are the biggest victims of this#which is why I make a point to revisit the novel when I can esp for longfics#but sometimes I go back and see ''oh I really wrote this one shot well. Perhaps my writing at the beginning was actually good?'' and get#slapped in the face by four idiots and the City of ghosts#now that I think about it. Writing L/XC consistently as having an overprotective complex over his didi and writing W/WX having a weird#complex over his shidi is making me laugh so much#kk's rambles tag#having written and changed my opinions about the characters during the course of a singular fic only happened for tainted Ambitions#so you have the strange shift from the revenge fantasy drama to something that might actually be compelling if done well#(I want to do it well but I don't want to touch b/nha with a ten foot pole these days. Not because of the fandom but because I don't like#the source material anymore. Controversial opinion but anyways)#my opinions about dg/rp didn't change much during fic writing nor did the characterisation change that much#even if it has the second highest fic count after m/dzs. Hm.#probably because i mostly write for it as a writing exercise#and the one I did start as a proper fic is abandoned because I lost energy#(my personal opinion is that my j/c POV is the most suited to my writing due to my tendency to make similar protagonists in my original#works. It's a little funny because his manner of speech in his internal narrative is plenty similar to both Romila and Rajanya in the#''why in the ever living Fuck'' even if they all have different motives.#or maybe I am too used to writing cranky people with unresolved and unrequited love. Anyways)
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soaps-mohawk · 3 months ago
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 34: The Whole Truth
Summary: In life, we will be confronted with difficult choices. Sometimes you won't know you've made the wrong choice until it's too late
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 12,582 words
Warnings: Dead dove: do not eat, Angst, graphic violence and torture, mentions of predatory behavior towards a minor, Phillip Graves is a major creep, lots blood and injuries, kidnapping and its aftermath, hostage situations, anxiety and panic attacks, language, very explicitly described torture, ‘mega gets hit a lot, choking, biting, ‘mega gets stabbed with an ice pick, author can’t write COD missions, vomiting, lots of heavy emotions, detailed descriptions of pain, guns, background character dies on screen, descriptions of guilt and grief, lots of POV changes, some descriptive language of gore and blood at the end, rehashing of ‘mega’s injuries from the last chapter, a lot of angst and very heavy content, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe
A/N: This chapter deals with some pretty heavy content. Please, please, please read and heed the warnings. I have included content warnings for the more graphic parts before they happen, so if you don't want to read those, you can skip ahead to the next part. I suggest taking breaks if you need to, read it in installments if necessary. And I cannot stress it enough, please heed the warnings.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“Hi darlin’.” His grin widens like he’s happy to see you. “Been a long time.” 
You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, your brain still sluggish. You feel sick as you try to process, try to figure out why and how. You try to move your arms again, but your wrists are stuck, hands burning as you pull. You desperately want them free, desperately need them free. 
“Easy,” Phil says, putting his hands on yours, pushing them flat against the arms of the chair. They’re warm and calloused, the same hand that had been on your face a few moments ago. “You’re gonna hurt yourself. More than you already have been.” He lifts your left leg, making you groan quietly as a deep ache throbs down to your foot and up to your hip. 
Running. A gunshot. Pain.
“He had strict orders not to harm you.” Phil says, adjusting the bandage wrapped around your calf. “Don’t worry. We got you all fixed up.” He sets your leg back down gingerly, his touch lingering for a moment before he looks back up at you. 
“Why?” You croak out, trying to make sense of what happened. 
Corporal McKinney broke into the barracks and chased you into the woods. He shot you and drugged you and now you’re here, restrained in a chair staring at a man you haven’t seen for years. A man who was once your dad’s best friend. 
“A lot has happened since we saw each other last.” He says, pushing himself to stand. “I left the Marines after a few years, formed my own group of military contractors. Invited your dad to join, but you know how he is. All honor and duty and serving the country. Of course, you haven’t seen him in quite a while, have you?” 
You stare up at him, starting to get scared. You never liked Phil. There was always something about him that put you off. He always stared too long, always sat too close to you. He always greeted you with a hug that lasted too long, squeezing you too tightly against him. He was sweet on you in a way he wasn’t with anyone else. He could be intense, brash and almost downright rude sometimes. He was a firm believer in traditional packs too, even if he never spoke about his own pack, his own omega. He had to have one, if he was as dedicated as he said. 
He was far too much like your father. 
Phil was always kinder to you, though. Softer. Not quite as callous and bellicose as your father in public. He was polite, always happy to lend a hand, always glad to roughhouse with your brothers to get their energy out. You saw the way your mother looked at him though. Perhaps her apprehension bled into you, those dormant omega instincts picking up on something she was projecting. 
He made you uncomfortable, and she knew it. 
What could an omega do, though, in a world where they don’t have opinions, they can’t argue, they can’t disagree. Your mother never said anything because in the world your family existed in, the world Phil existed in, she couldn’t. 
“He was so angry when he called.” Phil continues, staring down at you. “Ranting and raving about how his oldest daughter betrayed him by presenting as an omega. He couldn’t stand having such a useless child in his perfect pack.” You flinch at his words, even though you heard your father spew those very words after your presentation firsthand. 
“He called you?” You ask, the pieces starting to come together as your brain finally snaps fully into awareness. You knew he called someone, but you hadn’t thought it would ever be Phil. 
“Of course.” Phil chuckles. “We were good friends, pals, buddies. He knew I could help him.” A shiver runs down your spine. You know what he’s going to say next. “So I did. I have some contacts in some high places, people who owe me favors. So I made some calls, pulled some strings, got you into FIOT immediately, with some strings attached of course.” He leans down so you’re almost face to face. “I wanted you. They put a note in your file. You wouldn’t be placed in the registry when you were old enough, you would go to me and my pack.” 
Bile churns in your stomach as you process his words. It all makes sense now. The stares, the hugs, the closeness with your father, your rapid enrollment in an institute that can take weeks to process applications. It was all so you could be his. Something he’s wanted from early on. 
“You would have been mine,” He pushes himself up straight again, starting to pace back and forth in front of you. “If the fucking CIA hadn’t gotten involved!” You flinch as his voice raises, the frustration starting to darken his scent. “They froze your file, made the claim null and void. All for what, their little initiative that never really existed in the first place?” He huffs out a laugh, a smirk tilting his lips. “Small world, though. Who knew we’d be seeing each other again after so long.” 
He steps closer, looking down at you. You hold his gaze, suddenly feeling afraid. Even though you know him, even though you spent a good part of your childhood around him, you’re afraid of him right now. Your mind starts to revert back, the urge to lower your eyes, break eye contact like you’re supposed to flashing through your mind. 
Don’t stare alphas in the eyes. They’ll take that as a challenge. It’s not your job to challenge them. Your job is to be subservient. 
You would have been subservient to him if the CIA hadn’t gotten involved. You would have been under his control, bowing to him and his will. You’d have pups by now, at least one. He’d always talked about having a big pack with lots of pups someday, always glancing at you when he said it. 
You’re going to vomit all over him. 
It’s not just the truth that scares you, though. You’re being held captive here. That thought has registered in your mind now, the reality settling in as you get over the shock of the last few minutes. Corporal McKinney kidnapped you from base, and now you’re restrained in a chair surrounded by unknown alphas. Phil isn’t going to help you, take pity on you. He’s not here to be nice, to have a little chat and catch up on life.
That possibly ended as soon as he was denied what he wanted. 
His hand cups your chin, holding your face up as he looks down at you. His thumb is rough as it strokes your jaw, a tickling feeling starting in the back of your mind again. There’s an almost bittersweet look in his eyes as he holds your gaze. You refuse to lower it, refuse to give him that satisfaction. “You’ve grown up a lot.” He says, his hand sliding down your neck to the collar of your shirt. “You always were cute, though. I knew early on you were going to be an omega. You were far too...calm and compliant compared to your brothers. Always so polite and eager to please. You can tell if you pay attention, you know. Those dormant instincts start to show themselves long before presentation.” 
His hand pulls your collar to the side, revealing your mark. His eyes harden as he stares at it, his lips turning down into a frown. A shiver runs down your spine as the darkness in his scent intensifies. He’s not holding you hostage just to tell you about what could have been, what direction your life might have taken. He’s here for a reason, and you know your pack is involved. Something has happened, something behind the scenes, something John was looking into. 
“What’s going on?” You ask as he releases your collar, taking a step back. 
“Well, you’re being held hostage.” He says, like it isn’t already obvious. “You’re...shall we say...leverage to ensure your pack follows orders.” 
You blink at him. You haven’t heard from or spoken to your pack in weeks. You should be relieved that they’re apparently still alive, but what if you had been right and they don’t want you anymore? Why would they take you if your pack has abandoned you? Or did they take you to ensure they wouldn’t...
“Laswell stuck her nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been.” Phil says, crossing his arms. “It’s only so long before your pack finds out. Let’s just say...they’re not going to be happy about it. So, to ensure they don’t do something impulsive and reckless as they are known to do, you’re going to play hostage.” 
You gulp as you stare up at him, suddenly feeling very afraid. Your scent spikes in the air, clouding it with the bitter scent of anxiety. It was the plan all along. You knew it even if you hadn’t been told outright. Deep down you’ve always known it wasn’t about strengthening packs. It wasn’t about studying how an omega would increase or decrease the efficiency of military packs. With the events of the last few months, the idea had started to form in your mind. You know you weren’t alone in those thoughts. John and Simon were digging into the cameras for a reason. They were put up for a reason. 
It was always about control.
That was the point of the initiative. That was why they put cameras up, that was why General Shepherd was so invested in the state of your pack and if you had been mated. He needed to ensure you were close enough to them so if something happened that wasn’t supposed to, you could be used against them. 
You’re nothing more than leverage. 
Your scent spikes in the air, clouding the room as reality sinks into you. Something happened that caused this. Something called your pack away to isolate you, to leave you vulnerable. They wanted you alone as a contingency. 
Something did happen. 
Now you’re here, being held captive by a man you used to know, a man who could have been your alpha had things not played out the way they did. The thought has your stomach churning. How far will they go? How far will Phil take things? Could he be merciful because of your history? Or will his ruined plan make him more ruthless? 
You’ll be punished for something you can’t control. 
Phil makes a soft sound as he looks at you, shaking with fear in the chair. “Don’t be scared. As long as your pack does as they’re told, I won’t have to hurt you.” He turns the light back to face you, nearly blinding you. “Now, smile for the camera.” 
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They’re safe. 
It had been close. A rough position to be in, but they managed it. He never doubted them and their abilities, but four against nearly fifty with no backup were not good odds. He’s been in tighter places before, and while he had his doubts, he is grateful Johnny and Simon were sent in when they were. Even if it was a bit suspicious.
“All accounted for.” John says as he sinks down onto one of the jump seats next to Kyle. 
They’re all battered and bruised from their final fight. He’s ready to get home, ready to get back to you. From the sound of it, things were not going well, according to Johnny and Simon. He has a lot to make up for, a lot of apologies to make. 
“Fucking Russian PMCs.” He says, speaking to Kate over the comms. “It’s not a coincidence Kate.” 
Kate lets out a sigh that crackles through the comm. “No, it’s not. My team and I came across some information while we were digging into the cameras.” 
“What information?” He asks slowly and carefully. He doesn’t like being kept in the dark, especially when it comes to his pack. Especially when it comes to you. 
“Not just information on the initiative, but information on General Shepherd.” 
“What information?” He asks again, slower this time as Johnny and Simon move in closer. 
“Shepherd was the one that sold those weapons to AQ and the Russians.” 
John looks at the other three members of his team. He knew something was wrong, something was off about the way Shepherd had acted while informing them about this mission. “He wanted those missiles found and destroyed so he could cover his own ass.” He says, his stomach starting to twist. He doesn’t like the way this is going. 
“But we found out the truth before you could find all the missiles.” Kate continues. “He sent you on a wild goose chase to give himself a chance to escape.” 
John’s hand tightens into a fist. “Where is he now?” 
“He’s gone dark. Totally off radar.” 
John pushes himself up to stand, the adrenaline pumping again. “I’m going to find that bastard-” 
“John.” Kate says, cutting him off. “There’s something else.” 
The twisting in his stomach intensifies. There’s a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind. He doesn’t want to entertain the dark thoughts that are brewing. “What?” 
“They took your omega.” 
His stomach clenches, his breath catching in his lungs. The other three shift on their feet, all of them stepping closer. The scent in the plane thickens, anger and confusion mixing into a toxic cocktail. He hopes he heard that wrong, that there was some kind of interference in the connection and his brain made up the words he missed. “Repeat that.” 
“They took your omega.” Kate says again.
He lets out a long breath, his muscles tensing. He’s had a bad feeling tickling in the back of his mind for the last few days. Something was wrong, something was off. He should have known it was all a ruse. Why would AQ and the Russians store a missile in any of the places they had been sent to in the last week? It hadn’t made sense, and he had wanted to voice his doubts, but the consequences of a missile being launched because they decided not to look in one place was greater than his own perceived doubts. 
They had been right though. 
Of course it had all been a plan. Of course there had been something fishy about it. He’s hardly ever wrong. He’s been praised on his instincts on the field and off. He should have known. Pulling Simon and Johnny when they did should have been enough evidence, even if they had been needed in the end. 
“You’re positive?” He knows she is. There’s no mistaking something like that, there’s no doubting it. 
“There’s a video.” Kate says, John’s stomach dropping. “I’m sending it to you now.” 
John pulls out his phone, his fingers white as he holds it up. He’s angry, beyond angry. If they’ve laid a hand on you...if you’ve been hurt because of his own failings, his own inability to see the truth...
He clicks on the video when it comes in, a familiar face popping up on screen. “Hi boys. Been a while.” 
“Fucking Graves.” Johnny growls, his hands closing into fists in anger. 
“I have a little something of yours I think you might be interested in.” He turns the camera around, your face popping up on screen. You’re restrained in a chair, wrists red from the zip ties, but there’s a glare on your face, looking as mean and threatening as you can. There’s a bruise on your cheek and what looks like a healing cut on your lip. Someone hit you. 
“Smile for the camera.” Graves says, a bit too cheerfully. 
You don’t smile, your glare sharpening as the camera gets closer to your face. There’s still fight left in you. Whatever has happened hasn’t been too bad. Yet. 
“Let’s make this simple.” Graves says. “You stay away from Shepherd, and I won’t have to hurt this pretty little face. She is pretty, isn’t she?” 
You shift in the chair, your leg lifting before you kick outward. 
“Ow, you little bitch.” The camera jostles for a moment before it’s straightened back up, a hand shooting out to wrap around your throat. There’s no sign of any struggle, the glare still prominent on your face. “Feisty thing. Gotta keep up with those wild boys somehow.” 
The hand tilts your face just slightly, showing the mark on your neck. It is you, not that John doubted that from the beginning. It may have been almost two months, but he wouldn’t forget your face that easily. 
“Like I said,” Graves continues. “Follow your orders and she’ll be released unharmed.” 
The screen goes dark and John resists the urge to throw his phone. He shoves it back into his pocket, turning towards the wall of the plane. He throws his fist against the metal as hard as he can. It hurts, but he can barely feel it over the rage burning hot in him. 
“Fucking Shepherd!” He shouts, rearing back to throw his hand against the wall again.
Graves has his omega. Graves has his omega and now you’re being used as leverage. They’re all being played like puppets. 
A hand catches his fist before he can punch the wall again, easing him back. “Easy.” Kyle says, trying to soothe him as best he can. “We have proof of life, we know that she’s alright for now.” 
“For now.” He growls, looking around at the members of his team. “But for how long?” 
“They knew we’d go after Shepherd as soon as we learned the truth.” Simon says. “This has been in the plans for a long time.”
“They’re trying to get us to make a choice. Focus on getting our omega back while letting Shepherd escape, or go after Shepherd and let our omega be tortured.” Kyle says. 
“Those fuckin’ wankstains.” Johnny says, shifting on his feet. He’s angry, the bitter scent filling the enclosed area of the plane. They’re all angry, angry at those responsible, and angry at themselves for falling for it. “They were usin’ us the whole time.” 
John lets out a long breath. It’s a hard decision to make. Go after Shepherd and cut the head off the snake, or go after you and let the person orchestrating all of this escape. Graves won’t stop, even if they do manage to take out Shepherd. He has his orders, and he will follow them, with or without Shepherd pulling the strings.
There might be a second contingency. They kill Shepherd, you die too. 
No matter what, you won’t be safe. If they go after you, Shepherd escapes and if they try to hunt him down later, he’ll use you again, or worse. They don’t have to kill Shepherd, though. They have proof he’s a traitor. He can be brought to justice if he’s caught. Death is too gentle of a punishment for what he’s done. He deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life. 
They have to make sacrifices for the good of the world. 
“We’re going after Shepherd.” He says, taking a deep breath. “None of us will be safe if we don’t.” 
“That’s dangerous, John.” Kate says. “We don’t know how far Shepherd or Graves will take this. You know how Graves is. He may not be able to be stopped, even if Shepherd tells him to.” 
He takes a second to breathe. His pack is silent, all three of them staring at him, waiting for him to make this decision. He is pack alpha, he is their Captain. They do what he tells them to do, follow his orders no matter what. Kate is right, this is a risk, but sacrifices have to be made. Hands have to be dirtied to keep the world clean. 
He just hopes you’ll forgive him. 
“We’re going after Shepherd.” John says definitely. 
“This is a bad idea, John.” Kate warns him. 
“It’s the only option we have. They’re trying to draw us away. It’s a risk we have to take.” He can see the apprehension on his packmate’s faces. They’re all feeling it, the drive to go after their omega, but deep down he is right. They’ll never be safe until Shepherd is taken care of. Going after Graves only removes one small piece of the puzzle. The job always comes first. 
“Get us locations, places he might try to dig in and hide.” He says, heading towards the cockpit. “We’ll find this arsehole and kill him ourselves. 
***
Kate lets out a sigh as the comms close off. It’s a mistake. She knows it is. The guilt is eating her alive. She fell for this, she brought you into this, and now you might get hurt because of it. How she didn’t see the reality has shame burning through her. They were all blind, all led astray, all fooled by the red herring. 
There was never an initiative. It was never about strengthening packs. It was always about control. They wanted a way to control packs. Shepherd knew if the secret ever came out, there would be no stopping the consequences. Legal or illegal, retribution would come for him if the truth was revealed. 
This was his way of stopping it. 
That's why the 141 were the guinea pigs. 
They are the most dangerous threat to Shepherd, and he handed them a way to control them under the guise of strengthening packs, experimenting on how their dynamics and efficiency would shift with an omega added in. Even worse, they all fell for it. 
John is making a mistake. Graves won’t stop so long as Shepherd knows they’re coming after him. The last thing she wants is for you to get hurt because of their decisions, their mistakes. Shepherd won’t order Graves to kill you. That’s too much of a risk. It would give the 141 nothing to lose, and that would put them at their most dangerous. 
Will Graves listen to that order? 
She can send out a team to get eyes on Graves, find his position at least. That way, if things do take a turn, she’ll at least have a direction to point them in. 
They were all too trusting and ignorant. You’re innocent in all of this. 
It’s her fault. 
They’re going to need help. 
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Christine can’t sit still anymore. She can't take it. It’s been almost eighteen hours since your disappearance and there’s been nothing. No word, no news. She knows you’re alive. Kate had confirmed that, but that hasn’t eased the burning questions eating away at her mind. What is your current state? Who took you and why? Where is your pack and are they even aware of what’s happening? 
She’s been sitting and twirling her thumbs. She can’t bring herself to do any paperwork, any research. What is there to do besides sit and worry? She doesn’t have a patient to take care of because she lost the one she was supposed to watch. 
She huffs out a breath, pulling her phone out of her pocket and dialing Kate. If Kate won’t call, she’ll call herself. Kate’s probably busy though, so Christine can’t blame her too much for not calling. She’s probably so far from the front of Kate’s mind right now. 
The phone rings twice before Kate answers, sounding tired and disheveled, just as much as Christine feels. 
“Laswell.”
“Kate, I need to be there.” She doesn't hold back, doesn’t try to make small talk. There’s no time for it. She knows how Kate is doing, and it’s not great. 
“Christine, I don’t know if I can take that risk.” She says. 
“I need to be there. I can't take sitting around here anymore, and when you find her, she’s going to need someone she knows there, someone that knows how to take care of her.” Christine lets out a breath, the relief of getting her thoughts out taking some of the weight off her shoulders. 
Kate sighs, but she has to know Christine is right. She’s not sure what state you’re in, and depending on how bad it is, and where your pack is, you’re going to need her. Even if you think she was behind this. “I’ll have a plane ready to go in thirty minutes.” 
“Thank you, Kate.” She says, letting out a sigh of relief. 
“Don’t miss the flight.” 
Christine hangs up, gathering a couple things from her office before closing and locking her door. She nearly runs to her barracks, packing a bag quickly. She’s not sure what to bring, or how long this will take. She’s not even sure exactly where she’s going. 
She hurries to the airfield, phone in hand. She’s not sure where the plane is or which one she’s taking. She’s just relieved Kate is doing this for her. 
Her phone buzzes as she reaches the tarmac, making her puse. She lets out an annoyed sigh before answering the call. 
“Of course you have to call at the worst possible moment.” She says. 
“I’ve always had the worst timing.” Alex’s voice comes through the speaker, and she can almost hear the smile on his face. 
“I can’t talk long. I’m about to board a plane.” She says. 
“I know. We’ll pick you up on the tarmac.” 
She blinks in surprise. It’s been years since she’s seen her brother, months since she’s spoken with him. Ever since he retired from Delta Force, his regular calls have been happening less and less, and they’ve reached near radio silence over the last couple years. Now he’s involved in this too? 
“Kate called in a favor.” He continues, and that’s all she needs to know. “We’ll see you in a few hours.” 
“Yeah.” She says, tears brimming in her eyes as she smiles. Despite everything, she’s glad she gets to see her brother again. Glad she has some support in this. Your pack will be mad. They’ll blame her. She’s not afraid of them, but she knows Alex will stand behind her no
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**Content Warning: light torture, ‘mega gets punched, further injury to previous injuries, panic attack**
Your hands are starting to go numb. The constant attempts to free yourself from the zip ties isn’t helping, but you’re beginning to get twitchy. Your omega is scratching at the back of your mind, begging to be free, but you know you won’t survive it. The room is full of armed mercenaries, and you’re sure if you tried to take out Phil first, you’d be pumped full of bullets before you could even do any damage. 
He’s leaning against the wall far too casually, staring at the phone he’d used to record the first video of you. His explanation had been simple. Your pack stops going after General Shepherd, you don’t get hurt. The longer they chase Shepherd, the more Phil gets to torture you until they decide your life is worth more than Shepherd’s. 
Will they choose you over Shepherd? What if they’ve already decided to abandon you? What if your fears were right and they’ve given up, and that’s why they were gone so long? They won’t care what happens to you, if they have written you off as a burden, as a loss. They’ll let Phil torture you to death and they won’t even blink an eye. You’ll just be another casualty. 
It makes your stomach hurt, the idea of your pack letting you die. Even the idea of someone who had once been a friend of your family being so cold towards you has nausea bubbling in your belly. He doesn’t care. His only worry is money, not the past. He doesn’t care. He’ll do the bidding of whoever offers the highest price. 
He lets out a sigh, pocketing his phone as he pushes himself off of the wall. “Looks like your boys don’t follow orders well.” He bends down, putting his hands on his knees so he’s face to face with you. “They’ve decided to leave you here with me. Looks like Shepherd was wrong. They don’t really care about you as much as everyone thought they did. Makes me sad, them abandoning you so easily.” 
You try to ignore his words, try to convince yourself he’s doing it on purpose, trying to mentally break you. Yet you can’t deny those words play exactly into your doubts, your fears. Have they really left you here, choosing Shepherd over you? Would they decide to do that? How easy had that decision been made?  
Tears blur your vision as you stare up at Phil, your eyes burning as you try to put on the bravest face you can. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of knowing he’s getting to you, playing into your fears. 
“Unfortunately, that means I have to hurt you.” He stands up straight, staring down at you for a moment before pulling his fist back, hitting you across the face. 
You see stars for a moment, your head snapping to the side. The left side of your face is numb, the taste of metal flooding over your tongue. You’re bleeding, blood pooling in your mouth. A hand grips your chin, pulling you back so you’re sitting up straight in the chair. You stare up at Phil, the fear fading away to anger as you glare up at him. Your face is throbbing, and you know it’s going to swell and bruise later, more than it already has thanks to Corporal McKinney. 
Traitorous bastard. 
They all are. 
“I do feel bad for hurting that pretty face.” He says, stroking your jaw with his thumb. 
The movement is impulsive, the anger becoming too much. You spit the blood in your mouth in his face, the droplets splattering across his skin. He turns his head away for a moment, bringing his other hand up to wipe at the blood. 
“That wasn’t very nice.” He says, looking down at you. 
“Fuck you, you fucking creep!” You yell, kicking at him with your bad leg. 
He releases your face, catching your leg easily. He pushes his thumb against the bullet wound, all the fight leaving you as pain tears through your body. You let out a scream, trying to pull your leg away but he won’t let you. He holds his thumb there as you scream, the tears streaming down your face. 
“Okay, okay please! Please stop!” You beg, the pain radiating up into your hip and side. You can’t take it anymore, your brain starting to go fuzzy as you hyperventilate. 
He releases your leg, his hand wrapping around your throat to lift your face. The tears are streaming down your cheeks, mixing with the blood from the cut on your cheek. There’s no sympathy, not even regret in his eyes as he stares down at you. 
“I don’t want to hurt you, but if you can’t behave, I’ll have to do just that.” He releases you as you continue to hyperventilate, your eyes starting to glaze. You’re distressing. Will Phil help you? Will he do what he has to do to keep you alive? If you die, there won’t be anything stopping your pack. The entire plan will be over. They’ll go after Shepherd, then they’ll hunt down Phil. 
Cold ice water hits you in the face, shocking you back into clarity. Phil is holding the cup of water he’d been letting you drink from periodically. You blink at him as water drips into your eyes, your breaths hitching but far slower than they had been. You’re awake and aware now. 
You didn’t even know it was possible to do that. 
“Don’t distress on me now.” He says, putting the cup down. “We have so much ahead of us.” He moves around to the back of your chair, bending down until his breath hits your ear. “Besides, you make me help you out of distress, I might not be able to stop myself.” 
Your eyes pinch closed as his lips brush the shell of your ear before he stands back up, tears mixing with the icy water still sliding down your face. 
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Christine nearly runs down the ramp once the plane has stopped on the runway. She’s jet lagged and worn out after eight hours of worrying, but she’s eager not only to finally get some news on you and your status, but to see her brother for the first time in a long time. 
It’s not hard to find him. 
“Chrissy!” He grins, hugging her tightly. 
She has half a mind to complain about the nickname she’d endured her entire childhood, but she can’t find it in her as she hugs her brother tightly. She’s missed him, more than she realized. Their jobs have kept them busy, her with her medical studies and practice, and Alex with...whatever it is he does. 
“It’s been far too long.” She says, pulling away from him. She’d love to stand there and hug him for an hour, but she can’t. They have more important things to do. Time is of the essence, if her worst fears are true. 
“A lot has happened, a lot has changed.” He says. 
She looks him over, spotting the more noticeable changes in comparison to the last time they were face to face. “You could say that.” 
“We can talk about it later.” He turns to the other person with him, a woman. “Christine, this is Farah.” He introduces her. “Farah, this is my baby sister Christine.” 
“Nice to meet you.” Farah says, shaking her hand. 
“You as well.” Christine looks between them for a moment. She knows that look in Alex’s eyes as he looks at Farah. 
“We should get moving.” Farah says, ignoring him. 
“Laswell has moved off the grid.” Alex says, opening the driver’s side of the SUV. 
Smart, if things are as bad as she thinks they are. 
Christine gets into the back, letting out a long breath. She’s closer now to finding out what’s happened to you. The guilt is still eating her alive. If she just hadn’t left, if she hadn’t believed the phone call, put it above your safety. 
Things might have been worse if she had stayed. 
“Kate filled us in about everything.” Alex says as he drives away from the airfield. “At least in regards to the pack and your involvement.” 
“There’s some things she’s not telling us.” Farah says. “Though if things are as bad as they sound, I don’t blame her.” 
“I don’t know much of anything.” Christine says, staring out the window as they drive out of the city. “I feel like it’s my fault. If I hadn’t left her alone...” 
“It’s hardly your fault.” Alex says, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “If this was all planned, there wouldn’t have been anything that would stop it from happening.” 
“They might have done worse if you had stayed there.” Farah says, speaking Christine’s own fears aloud. 
“I wish I could see her. Make sure she’s alright.” Christine says. “If something happens to her...” 
“From what I hear she’s a hardy omega.” Alex says, trying to comfort her. “She’s withstood a lot. She can survive the 141, she’s probably giving them hell as we speak.” 
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**Content Warnings: light torture, choking to the point of almost passing out, blood, very detailed descriptions of pain, non-fatal stabbing**
It’s getting hard to breathe. Phil’s grip around your throat is getting tighter and tighter, less and less oxygen getting to your bloodstream and your brain. Your mouth has an almost permanent metallic taste as blood drips down your chin. Blood stains Phil’s arm from where you bit him, teeth marks red and angry looking from where they broke the skin. 
“You fucking bitch.” He growls, jaw clenched. “Your alpha should have taught you some manners.” 
His hand squeezes tighter, cutting the air off entirely. You begin to panic, tugging against the restrains with your raw, cut up wrists. Black dots begin to dance in your vision, your legs straining against the zip ties keeping them attached to the chair. Your hands and feet are going numb, your entire body tingling. This is it. You’re going to be choked to death. 
He holds his hand there for a moment, letting you struggle before he lets go and you suck in a gasp of air. You slump over in the chair, blood splattering on the floor as you cough, your throat raw and sore. Tears burn in your eyes as you heave, trying to get the oxygen flowing through your body again. 
Phil bends down to your level as you sit there, head hanging as blood drips from your mouth. Your tongue is raw from how many times you’ve bitten it. It’s impossible to tell how much time has really passed. There’s no windows in the room. The only light source is the cracks around the door behind you. Even then with the bright light in your face constantly, it’s hard to tell anything anymore. 
“Feisty still, but everyone has their limits.” His hand cups your chin as he stands, lifting your face to follow him. His hand holds the back of your head up as he wipes at the blood under your nose and on your chin almost gently. 
Tears stream down your cheeks as you stare up at him, unable to even care anymore that his hand is so close to your neck. All he has to do is move it down just slightly and squeeze and you’ll be unaware of anything around you, at the mercy of his bidding. 
That would almost be a relief. 
He dumps another icy cup of water over your head, keeping you from slipping too much into a panic. The cold water stings the cut on your chest and the one on your arm as it slides down your shoulders. You’ve lost the ability to feel the throbbing in your calf, numb to most of the pain in your body. 
Why haven’t they come for you? Where is your pack? 
Have they written you off for good? Was finding Shepherd more important than you? 
Phil’s phone goes off, your stomach dropping. He stares at the screen for a second before turning back to you. 
You shake your head, the tears cascading down your cheeks. “No,” You start to shake. “No, please-” 
“You know I have to, darlin’.” He moves behind you, tugging on your hair to keep your head up as one of his men stands in front of you with a phone in hand. 
He counts down on his fingers before pressing record. 
“Seems you boys still can’t follow orders. Your omega sure wishes you would.” Phil says as he reaches around your head, holding your chin in his hand. He tilts your head back making you look up at him. “Don’t you, darlin’. Tell them. Tell them how much you wish they’d follow orders.” 
You’re still crying, unable to stop as you stare at the camera. They really have given up on you. They’ve deemed you unworthy of saving. They’ve let you sit here and be beat up and tortured all because they put the job first. 
They really have given up on you. 
Are they even watching? 
“Please,” You croak out, half begging your pack to care, half begging Phil to have mercy. 
“Since you can’t seem to bring yourselves to care about your own omega,” He shifts slightly, someone handing him something behind you. You catch a glint of metal, your heart rate picking up. You’re panicking, breaths coming in shaky gasps. You know he can do worse. He’s threatened worse, but what is he going to do? “It seems you need a little more...motivation.” 
You try to wiggle out of his grasp in panic, wrists bleeding again from tugging at the zip ties. They’re coated in your blood, your leg throbbing but you don’t care. You need to get away, get free. “No, no-”
You let out a scream. 
It’s sharp and piercing, but nowhere near the sharp pain in your neck. It fires through your very nerve endings, making you aware of the very cells in your body. It shoots up into your brain, igniting every neuron in your brain. Your very blood feels like it’s boiling, your skin on fire from the pain. Every inhale feels like you’re breathing in sand, and every exhale is like glass shards dragging through your lungs and up your throat. The tears streaming down your face may as well be slicing through layers of skin, every wound pulsing and throbbing with a new kind of angry vengeance. 
You’re sobbing, nearly choking on air as the pain continues to pulse in your body. It’s too much, every sensation inside and outside of your body meshing together in an agonizing harmony. 
“Shhh.” Phil tries to shush you as he bends down, his cheek resting against the side of your head. “I know, I know. You’ll be alright.” He presses a kiss to the side of your head before letting you go limp in the chair. 
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Your scream still hangs in the air even after the video ends. 
It’s otherwise silent in the room, all eight of them feeling the weight of their decisions on their shoulders. The scents in the air are full of pain and regret and guilt and anger. 
“Was that fatal?” Kate asks, breaking the tense silence. 
“No.” Christine chokes out, her voice shaky. Her hands are trembling where they’re tucked against her sides. Her arms are crossed over her chest, trying to bring herself some kind of comfort after what she had just watched. “He went for the scent gland. It’s not a fatal injury, unless you go too deep, but he knew what he was doing.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “It’s just incredibly painful.” 
Her words hang in the air for a moment, all of them still trying to process what they had just seen. 
John slams his hands on the table, all of them jumping. “I fucking told you.” He says, his voice laced with the deep growl of his alpha. “I fucking told you Kate, she should have been flown out here as soon as you made the call.” 
“I know.” Kate says, undeterred by his anger. She’s seen it many times, though she’s rarely been on the receiving end of it. “I know, I made a bad call. None of us knew they would take it this far.” 
“But we knew something was going on behind the scenes.” John says, still radiating anger. “All precautions should have been taken.” 
“There was no guarantee her being here would have stopped them. She might not have been any safer here.” Kate says, trying to ease his anger, even though she knows it’s completely warranted. “This goes far deeper than we thought it did. Even before this plan was set into motion.” She waits a moment, letting the air settle. “A year ago, a convoy was smuggling missiles and other weapons into the Middle East in an off-the-books operation. The convoy was attacked and the missiles and arms were stolen by a Russian PMC group. The operation was conducted under the command of Shepherd, and the soldiers in the convoy were all Shadow Company.” 
“That’s how Graves is tied into this.” Kyle says. 
“It goes deeper than that.” Kate says, pulling up a file and displaying it on screen. “The missiles and weapons being smuggled weren’t being sent to aid allies in the Middle East. Shepherd sold them to AQ and the Russians. The PMC group that attacked Shadow Company was hired by Shepherd to make it look like an ambush.” 
“Fucking weasel.” Simon growls. 
“I don’t know how much Graves knows, or how much he helped hide the entire operation, but his ties to this go even deeper.” Kate says, and they all shift closer. “Graves has history with your omega.” She says, pulling up an old photo. “We combed through one of her brothers’ Facebook pages. Found an old photo of her dad with Graves. They served on the same base when her family lived in Texas before Graves left to join MARSOC. She would have still been a child at the time.” 
They stare at the photo, Graves clearly identifiable as he stands next to another man, beers in their hands. There’s two other boys in the photo, young and grinning at the camera. Standing in front of Graves is a little girl, a happy grin on her face. They’re all in various combinations of red, white, and blue. 
4th of July, they assume. 
“That’s how she got into the institute so fast.” John says, staring at the photo. He’s never seen a photo of your father before. You must take after your mother. “Graves pulled the strings.” 
Kate nods. “He did, but under the condition he would be the one to claim her when she grew old enough. The CIA wiped out that claim when they froze her file.” 
The 141 all shift on their feet, sharing looks. John feels a sick twisting in his stomach at the implications. Your position in the photo suddenly makes sense. Anger burns in him, deep and bubbling like magma. He’ll kill the bastard. 
“This is revenge then.” Johnny says. 
“In a way, I think.” Kate says. “We took away what he wanted. Graves wasn’t going to pass up this opportunity. He’s not afraid to get his hands dirty.” 
“This all is what the initiative was created for.” Christine says, leaning against the table. “A contingency in case this all was uncovered.” 
“A way to control us.” Kyle says. 
Kate nods. “Yes. It was all a plan to give the 141 a weakness, a way to be controlled should the situation arise. In this case it just so happened to be the uncovering of his traitorous arms deals.” 
“We were all pawns in this.” Christine says. 
“We let them walk right in and take control like that.” John says, turning to Christine. “You let them walk in and take our omega.” 
She turns to face him, undeterred by his agitation and anger. “I did what I thought was right at the time. I got a call from one of the front desk workers in the med center saying that someone was waiting in my office for me.” She explains. “They wouldn’t say who it was, and the whole thing felt off. I knew whoever would be visiting me was not going to be friendly, so I felt it was safer to leave her in the barracks than take her with me and risk something happening in a place she doesn’t know well. In the barracks at least she’d know places to hide and barricade herself.” 
She takes a deep breath, still facing down John fearlessly. He’s coiled tight like a spring, ready to jump at any moment should he deem it necessary. It’s those protective instincts, the knowledge that his omega is somewhere else, taken unwillingly and being tortured feeding into that need to fight. 
“My office door was open when I got there.” She continues. “I always leave it locked. I went in prepared to fight, but I was attacked from behind. Hit over the head and drugged with something fast acting, something that would keep me incapacitated long enough for him to strike.” She stares up into his eyes, projecting her scent just a bit to try and get him to calm down. “We all made mistakes here, things we thought were the right choice at the time.” 
She’s not wrong. They all know it. They had just seen proof of it.  
“The assailant?” John asks, turning back to Kate. 
“Corporal McKinney.” Kate says. “He was in Shepherd’s pocket from the start. Someone who could watch first-hand. Someone who could sneak into the barracks unnoticed without many questions. He was likely the one that put the cameras up.” 
“Fucking wanker.” Simon growls. “He approached her once in the mess. Early on. Tried to introduce himself to her. Backed off as soon as I intervened. Never tried again, at least that we know of.” 
“She never mentioned him.” Christine says. “Or anyone else on base that might have tried to approach her.” 
“Where is he now?” Kyle asks. They’re all angry, frustrated. How had they not seen this happening? 
“Local police tracked his car to an abandoned airfield not far outside of Hereford.” Kate says. “He was dead inside. Police ruled it suicide.” 
“I’m sure it was.” John says. 
They all know it wasn’t. 
“Shadow Company likely picked her up from there with orders to stage a suicide.” Kate says. 
“One less loose string to worry about.” Simon says. “Covers their tracks in England.” 
They all go quiet. How this had all happened right under their noses? They’re all guilty of falling for it, for being too trusting in a world they know they can’t be too careful in. Allies can turn on a dime and become enemies. Betrayals can be easily bought. Things can turn downhill within a blink of an eye. They’re supposed to be prepared for the worst, ready for every possibility. 
They had written this off as a conspiracy, and now their omega is paying for it. 
“We need a plan.” Farah says, breaking the silence. 
“We can’t let Shepherd get away.” John says. 
“We cannae just leave her.” Johnny argues against his alpha. It’s a brave thing, considering his alpha’s current mental state.  
“I don’t know how much more she can take.” Simon backs his beta up, the desperation and pain on your face still visible in all of their minds. 
“Let us go after Shepherd.” Alex says, offering up a solution. “He’s obviously watching for you to come after him.” 
“We can move undetected.” Farah agrees. “He’s less likely to expect us. You need to focus on your omega. Shepherd will show himself again eventually.” 
“Do we have a lead on their location?” Kyle asks, turning back to Kate. 
She nods. “We do now. I sent a team out to try and track location through the videos and where they were being sent from.” She pulls a map up on screen. “We have a location.” 
“Texas.” Alex says. 
“He took her home.” Christine says. 
“We have a plan then. We go after Graves, Farah and Alex start tracking Shepherd. Kate is eyes in the sky for us.” John says. 
“She’s going to need medical attention as soon as possible.” Christine says. She looks at Kate. “Where is the nearest military base from their location?” 
Kate types on her computer. “Naval Air Station Joint Reserve Base in Fort Worth.” 
“Get me there and I’ll be waiting. She’s going to need someone she knows.” She says, looking at John. “She’s not going to just let anyone close to her after this. She may not even let you close.” 
John stares down at her for a long moment. She stares back unflinchingly. She doesn’t get intimidated easily, not after years of dealing with institutes and alphas alike. 
He lets out a breath, staring down at her for a long moment before he nods. “I trust you.” 
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“Short reunion this time.” 
“I’m just glad I got to see your face again.” Christine says, looking up at Alex. 
“Things are...complicated.” He says. “Maybe after all of this is over we can go and get some coffee. Talk about our lives...as much as we can.” 
The corner of her mouth twitches up in a smile. “I’ll hold you to that.” 
Alex pulls her into a hug, holding her tightly. “You’re doing good work, Chrissy.” 
She shakes her head at the nickname, but she holds him just as tightly. “I’m trying to.” 
Alex pulls away, squeezing her arms. “I’d say you are. You care a lot. To the point some might call it a character defect.” 
She scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Not like you’re much better.” She glances at the car where Farah is waiting patiently. “I’m happy for you.” 
“Oh, we’re....” Alex blushes to his ears. “We’re not...” 
She gives him a look. “Mhm sure.” She looks up at him one more time. “Be safe.” 
“As best I can.” He says. “Take care of yourself. Don’t be too hard on yourself either.” 
“I try not to be.” She squeezes his hand before stepping away. 
She watches the SUV drive off, stomach churning with nerves for both of them. Shepherd is dangerous, but Alex has fearlessly faced down danger since he was a kid. He’s always been brave and determined, loyal and unafraid to do what he thinks is right no matter what. She trusts him to take care of himself, she trusts Farah to help him, even if she only met the woman today. 
She trusts them both to take care of each other. She trusts them both to help put an end to this. 
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**Content Warning: Blood, vomiting, 'mega forces herself into a panic attack**
Your body aches, muscles screaming. You can’t take much more. Your cheek throbs painfully, swollen to the point you almost can’t see out of your left eye. The pain burning from your neck makes the other pain in your body nearly irrelevant, nearly nonexistent. It’s like electricity, burning through your very cells. Every movement seems to make it flare, makes the electric shock jolt through you. The burning pain that follows makes you whimper, a pathetic choking sound squeaking out from your bruised throat. 
The pain makes you nauseous, vomit staining the front of your shirt and pants. It’s mostly bile and the little food you’ve gotten since your kidnapping. 
Nutrient bars, meant to keep you fed and nourished for a short period of time. 
You may never be able to eat them again. 
“Fuck.” Graves curses, staring at his phone. “They’ve backed off.” He steps up to you, looking down on your pathetic form. “Looks like your boys do care about you after all.” 
Do they? Are they really coming for you, or have they simply given up chasing Shepherd because they lost all their leads. Will they come for you, or will they leave you here to rot? What will Graves do then? Try to take you as his own omega? Kill you out of anger? 
Your stomach churns and you can feel the bile rising. 
You vomit again, the warm liquid splashing into your lap. You can’t lean far enough anymore, not without the risk of not being able to pull yourself back up, not with the pain burning your every movement. You can’t even lift your head anymore, your body weak and battered and bruised. There’s blood everywhere, on you and on the floor. You can still taste it in your mouth, mixing with the sourness of bile. 
Graves gives you a disgusted look before turning to the others in the room. “Duran, Lewis, keep watch. The rest of you come with me.” 
He leaves the room for the first time in what you assume is days. For once the cocktail of scents begins to disperse, all but two of the alphas finally disappearing. Where they’re going or what they’re going to do, you don’t know. You can’t bring yourself to care either way. You just want to go home. You want to see your mother again, your brothers and sisters, even your father would be a welcome sight after this. You want your alpha, you want him to hold you, to take you in his arms, keep you safe.
He abandoned you. He left you to suffer like this. 
Your breathing picks up as you sit there, chin to chest as you stare at your bloody shirt. The smells in the room are awful, the scents no longer there to block out the sour bile and metallic stench blood. Tears are streaming down your cheeks, pink tinted splatters dripping onto your pants. What are you going to do now? What are they going to do to you now? Will they keep you alive long enough for your pack to arrive then kill you in front of them? Will they torture them too, make them watch as the life slowly leaves your eyes in revenge for chasing after Shepherd? 
A sob rips through your sore throat up out of your lips. 
You just want to go home. 
You just want to be free. 
You can be. 
Distress. The final defense. The last ditch effort omegas have to save themselves. Distress will lead to your omega taking over, and if nothing else, a quiet death you won’t even realize is happening. Your body will give out and you’ll be safely tucked into the back of your brain, comforted by your instincts. You won’t have to worry anymore. You won’t have to care. 
If nothing else, the pain will be over. 
I’m sorry. 
You begin to breathe heavier, ignoring the pain in your body as you push yourself to hyperventilate. The alphas behind you might do something, might try to stop it. They could, but would they even know how? Would it even work if you got too far? They’re not your alpha. They can’t comfort you, bring you back from the edge without forcing you. Will they even bother? 
You tilt your head to the side, putting pressure on your injured scent gland. You sob at the pain, the burning flowing straight into your very cells, making them scream. You push through it, your wrists twisting against the zip ties, digging them further into your already damaged wrists. The pain pushes you to a point of panic, your heart rate through the roof. You can feel it, the tightening of your muscles, your joints locking into place. 
You’ve never done it purposefully before, but in this state, it’s not hard. 
They left you. They’ve abandoned you. They’ve given up. It’s all your fault they left. They’re not coming for you. You’re not worth it. 
The thoughts send you down the spiral, the edges of your vision starting to go dark. You’re floating away, hands and feet going numb as your wheezing, shallow breaths block the oxygen from getting to your brain. You’re sinking, your body floating as you begin to retreat into the back of your mind. The cage is open, your omega soothing you as you drift off, curling up in the back recesses of your mind. 
You’re safe now. She whispers. 
There’s no going back. 
You’re going to get out. 
Even if you have to do it yourself. 
The last breath you remember taking is shaky, making you cough before your vision begins to fade to grey, then to black. You’re getting out of here no matter what. You’re going to go to sleep. If you fail, you’ll never know it. Your death will be quick and gentle and you’ll never know it happened until you’ve moved on to whatever is next. 
You won’t remember any of this. That’s your only consolation. 
Your vision fades to black as all memory and awareness leaves you. The last thing you remember is the snap of the zip ties around your wrists as they break. 
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“Graves has moved with some of his men to the western building. It’s likely the hostage is being held in the eastern building. Gaz and I will go after Graves. Ghost and Soap will try to secure the hostage.” 
“Keller is on her way to NAS JRB as we speak. They’re on standby for medevac.” 
“Stealth is our priority. They know we’re here, we risk losing the hostage. Quick and quiet, take them by surprise. The faster we do this, the sooner it will all be over.” 
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**Content Warning: blood and slight gore, someone gets shot offscreen, some gorey and explicit imagery towards the end**
He’s not unfamiliar with high stakes missions. It’s his specialty. He’s cool and calm under stress and pressure, which is why he gets chosen for them. He can detach easily, get the job done and then go home and forget. 
So why are his hands shaking? 
This isn’t a high stakes mission, not like one he’s used to doing. The stakes are higher, higher than he’s ever had before. It’s not just eliminating some faceless target, it’s not just rescuing some faceless hostage. 
It’s rescuing you. 
He hates that you were involved in all of this. He hates that they all fell for it, blind to the truth, blind to Shepherd’s traitorous actions. They refused to entertain those conspiratorial thoughts, and now you’re paying for it. He knows why Price made the decision he did, he understands the logic behind it. 
He hated it, though. 
How far would Graves have taken it if they had chosen to go after you first. Would things have gotten this bad? Or would he still have hurt you, tortured you just out of sheer anger for what happened between the two of you? He wouldn’t give up just because Shepherd told him to stop. He’s ruthless and uncaring of who he hurts and why. He gets his orders and he completes them, no matter what, so long as whoever is giving those orders can pay a high enough price. 
How much did he get for this assignment? How much did he settle for once he learned you were involved? 
Far too much despite that fact, most likely. Maybe he should become a merc. Less rules and more money.
It’s not a bad idea. 
He lasers his focus on the building as they creep through the trees, moving silently. Two against however many are inside. It was impossible to tell with how many were moving between the two buildings constantly. 
He brought the whole squad. He planned on putting up a fight regardless. 
At least they have the element of surprise on their hands. 
“We move silently through the building.” He says as they approach the door. There’s two guards standing outside. “They know we’re inside, things could go downhill quickly.” 
“On you, LT.” Johnny says, taking point beside him. 
“Drop one, I’ll take the other.” He says, aiming at one of the two Shadows guarding the door. 
It’s quick and quiet, their bodies slumping onto the damp dirt. Simon scans the area before moving forward to the door. It’s unlocked, Johnny pushing it open slowly to check for a trip wire. 
None. 
Sloppy, or perhaps on purpose. They can’t be too careful. Shepherd will have let Graves know they’re not on his trail anymore. He’ll be expecting them. 
They split up, combing the bottom floor of the building. He takes out two more Shadows, checking every room for a sign of their target, but they find none. 
“Second floor.” He says, waiting at the base of the stairwell for Johnny to join him. 
“You think she’s in here?” Johnny asks as they creep up the stairs, careful not to make too much noise. 
“Well, we’ll find out.” 
It’s far too unguarded to where they’re holding you. Graves will have assumed they’d split up. He must have moved most of his men to the western building to put up as much of a barricade as possible. He can picture Graves standing there, the smirk on his face as he holds a gun to your head. Will he take that risk, shoot you in front of them and give them nothing to live for? Or will he use a knife, letting you die a slow, painful death in front of them? 
Or, maybe he moved them to the western building to make them think that’s where you are. Focus their attacks there so they leave you behind. He gets cornered, he send the word to kill you before any of them can get to you. 
More red herrings. 
He pauses before he reaches the top of the steps, taking out the shadow standing down the hallway. They split up again, looking through rooms at the top of the stairs, making their way down the hallway. 
One of the doors is open, and he silently motions for Johnny. He counts down silently in his head before rounding the corner, rifle up as he scans the room. His stomach churns as he looks inside, taking a couple cautious steps forward. He’s seen a lot of things in his time, done a lot of things, but this is different. 
“Screaming Jesus.” Johnny says, lowering his rifle as he steps in behind Simon. 
There’s blood everywhere. 
It’s coating the floors, leaving a sticky residue as it dries. It’s the room you were in. He recognizes it from the video, and the bright light in the corner is a dead giveaway. The chair in the middle of the room has been broken, the wood of the arms snapped off and splintered. There’s four bloody zip ties on the floor, along with several instruments on the floor including the ice pick. 
He wants to shove that into Graves’ eye for what he did to you. 
There’s two bodies on the floor, one of them dead in a pool of his own blood, the other choking as blood seeps onto the floor under him. He steps up to the shadow, putting his boot on his chest and pushing. The Shadow lets out a groan, coughing up blood. 
“Where the fuck is she?” He growls, staring down at the quickly paling face. 
“Fucking bitch went crazy.” He chokes out. “Went running.” 
Simon steps back, pulling out his handgun and firing two bullets into the Shadow’s head. 
“Price, we found the room.” He says into his comm. “The hostage isn’t here. A half-dead Shadow said she bolted.” 
“LT.” Johnny says, motioning to the door, the only other exit from the room. There’s a bloody handprint on the door, one too small to be one of the Shadows’. 
“I think she managed to get out.” He says, staring at the handprint. His stomach drops, his hand tightening around his rifle. He glances down at the bodies, throats cut and faces bloody. “I think her omega took over.” 
“You and Soap go after her. She’ll do the one thing she knows to do, the one instinctual thing she can do if she has nothing to fight.” Price says. “We’ve got Graves cornered.” 
Simon pushes the door open, cool air flowing into the stuffy room. There’s bloody shoe prints heading down the stairs. He can see the rapid turn on the concrete below before they head off towards the trees. 
“I’ve got a trail.” He says. 
“Go.” Price says. “Simon...you know what you have to do.” 
He does.
He motions for Johnny to follow before hurrying down the stairs. The longer they delay, the further you’ll get. He doesn’t doubt some Shadows followed you if you made that much of a ruckus. The more time they waste, the more dangerous things get, and not just because they might lose you or the shadows might catch up. 
He races towards the treeline, rifle in hand, but there’s no one else standing guard. Price and Gaz will have taken care of those in the other building, and those that were outside probably went after you. 
He slows once they break the treeline, trying to catch any hint of your scent that might be left. His only hope is that you’ve left a trail. He’s a tracker, he knows what he’s doing. His senses are stronger, more in tune. He can find you. He can track you down. He has to. 
The guilt is eating him alive. If something happens to you, he’ll never forgive himself. He’s right here, so close and yet so far. You’re running on borrowed time and there’s only so much of it left. Eventually you have to slow, eventually your body will start giving up. Will it be too late then? If a Shadow finds you when you can’t fight back...
“Dead Shadow ahead.” Johnny says, motioning to the slumped over body ahead of them. “We’re on the trail.” 
“Let’s hope she left more markers on the way.” He says, kicking the Shadow, but the stab wound in his neck is all Simon needs to know. “Keep going straight.” He says, continuing on the path they’ve been following. He needs just a whiff, a hint of your scent. Something. 
They come across another dead Shadow, this one off to the side of the path they had been following. He turns, making an adjustment before moving forward. Johnny keeps close, both of them watching for more Shadows, or for any glimpse of you. All they can hope is they’re on the right path. 
He nearly sets off in a run as he hears a sound ahead. It’s a yowl, almost like a mountain lion. It sends a tingle down his back, his alpha blaring warning alarms. A threatened omega is a dangerous thing. Fierce and protective of themselves, capable of great feats and lethal if you get too close. 
It’s you, no doubt. 
Price had been right. 
He has no choice. 
He pushes forward, his steps quick as he makes his way through the bushes. He spots you near a boulder, trying to fight off a Shadow. He’s got the upper hand, using his size against you. You’re getting tired, your movements slowing. Simon aims with his rifle, a shot to the head dropping the Shadow. You drop into a crouch, surveying the trees. You’re covered in blood, a knife in your hand as your wild eyes search for them. 
“Distract her.” He says to Johnny. “Make yourself as unthreatening as possible. I’ll go around and get her from behind.” 
He doesn’t even wait for an acknowledgement before he’s moving, slipping around to the side of the boulder. Johnny steps into the clearing slowly, holding his hands up, talking to you quietly.
“Easy, kitten. Ye know who I am.” Johnny is careful not to get too close, his steps slow as he moves to the side, getting you to turn. “We’re just here to help ye. Get ye home and safe.” 
You’re holding the knife up, brandishing it at Johnny. Simon isn’t sure if you’ve ever thrown a knife before, but he doesn’t put it past you to try in this state. 
He hopes Johnny’s reflexes are fast enough. 
He slips out from behind the boulder as you pause, wasting no time as he races up behind you and grabbing you before you can bolt or go for Johnny’s neck. You let out another yowl, struggling against him as he wraps an arm around your chest. Your teeth sink into his arm and he lets out a curse, but he doesn’t let go. He lets go, they won’t get another chance. It’ll be too late. 
He doesn't want to do it. His mind flashes back to his father and mother, one of the few times his mother fought back. It hadn’t lasted long before her body went limp, practically a ragdoll in his father’s hold. Simon had grabbed Tommy and ran, barricading them in his room. They didn’t want to see what was going to happen next. 
He doesn’t want that kind of control over you, he doesn’t want to put you through that trauma. The disorientation, the fear, the confusion. That must have been what it felt like after being sedated during your heat. You had been sick for days, crying in Johnny’s room. He had heard every sob, every attempt to soothe you. 
He put you through that. He made you face that down despite the fear on your face as Johnny escorted you to the med center. 
And now he has to do it again. 
He has to this time. He has no choice. His only other option is to let you die. Price will never forgive him. Johnny won’t even look at him again. He’d betray them worse than you did, worse than Shepherd, worse than Graves. 
You never really betrayed them in the first place, though. 
You were afraid, untrusting of them, unsure because of your past. He had been foolish to blame you, foolish to think it was somehow your fault. You acted out of fear, out of terror. How you must have felt in those moments when that beta showed up, when you faced down Shepherd alone, when you returned to find your space invaded and those cameras all over your room. They weren’t there to protect you, they weren’t there to support you. They left you alone and you hid it from them because you didn’t know any better, because you were so afraid. 
He’s a goddamn fucking prick he’s been. 
Tears blur his vision as he tucks his free arm behind you, shifting your position just enough so he can get his hand around the back of your neck. You kick out with your legs, releasing his arm, your head tilting back in a last ditch, instinctual effort to protect yourself. 
His eyes squeeze closed as you let out a yelp, his fingers digging into the back of your neck. It’s hard enough it will leave a bruise, but he has to be sure. It’s the only thing that might save you. It’s his only option, his only chance to keep you alive. 
“There you go.” He says quietly into your ear. “Need you to relax for me.” 
Your body goes limp in his hold, head resting back against his hand as he holds you there. Your muscles twitch as the tension leaves you, eyelids fluttering before they close. His arm stings where your teeth had sunk into his skin, hard enough to draw blood, but he doesn’t care. 
“Keep resting.” He says, easing his hand from the back of your neck as he shifts you in his arms. “Gonna get you somewhere safe.” 
You’re like a ragdoll in his arms as he lifts you up, cradling you against his chest. You’re warm, hair sticking to your forehead. 
“Call it in.” He tells Johnny, his eyes still glued to your face. “We need that medevac now.” 
“Price, we got her.” Johnny says into his comm. “We need medevac stat.” 
You look so peaceful despite the blood soaking your body. Partially yours, partially the Shadows you killed in your escape. You look like a gruesome painting, a gorey depiction of an omega pushed too far. Something they’d put on display in a museum, a photo that would win prizes in celebration of such a natural state caught on camera. It would be circulated for decades, something talked about centuries from now. 
A raw view of humanity’s inner beasts. 
He can’t stand it, seeing you like this. They did this to you. They are the reason you’re like this. They made the bad call in the end, they put you through this. You won’t forgive them, not after everything. You went weeks without them, without a word and then this happened. Innocence tainted in the blood of the guilty. The bloodstained omega held in the arms of the blood-tainted alpha. He should be the one covered in their blood. He should be the one carrying the weight of torture and desperation on his shoulders. 
The guardian dog covered in blood in the name of protecting his innocent sheep. 
How he’s failed you. How they all failed you. 
He pushes past the pain, past the grief, past the guilt and the horror of what they did to you, what they put you through. 
They’ve got you back. You’re safe. 
It’s over. 
NEXT ->
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endursent · 13 days ago
Text
- My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It
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【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , angst if you squint(?) , gn!reader 】
【 characters; aventurine , blade , dr. ratio , jiaoqiu , jing yuan , moze , sunday 】
【 premise; " Your partner has been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned him into a cat, you have no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet you also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】
【 note; might make more parts, who knows. also two one-shots/fics between gss chapters? in this writing economy? 】
【 word count; 3.303 | read on ao3 | genshin impact ver】
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Aventurine;
You thought he’d be more agitated than this—usually Aventurine doesn’t stay still for long periods of time, always out and about, as if resting for too long or standing still raises the hairs on his neck as something rapidly approaches from behind him, unseen to anyone else.
  And yet now… he sleeps curled on the sofa in his apartment, you continue to scratch your head over the situation and how to fix it—you tried to ask Dr. Ratio, who you’ve only met once by chance with Aventurine, but he seemed knowledgeable, and you’ve seen some of his theses cited in arguments online…
  But all he replied with to your very concerned and urgent text message from Aventurine’s phone was; “lol”
  So you’re officially on your own, it’s bad enough that Ratio has rejected your plea for help and now knows about this, if it gets out to Aventurine’s coworkers…
  You sigh and plop yourself down on the sofa next to his curled form, yellow-orange fur swaying at your movements as he doesn’t even look up. For a moment, you’re a bit concerned… hopefully he’s still breathing.
  Reaching a hand out, one finger pointed straighter than others, Aventurine suddenly looks up—and closes his jaw around your finger. It’s a gentle hold, not exactly a bite despite the way it looks and the prick of his teeth. You blink at him, he slow blinks at you. “You’re so sleepy,” you note. Aventurine just licks your finger, letting go of it—though it was barely a hold.
  After having gotten what seemed to be a long-awaited proper rest over the span of two days, Aventurine seems to spring to life, not in the way he’s zooming all over the oversized apartment or knocking things over, he just seems very excited to see you when you come home from work—your partner might have turned into a cat for real, but your superior will NOT believe you—he sits on your thighs whether you’re on the couch, by the dinner table, kneeling to fix something under a shelf, anything. 
  He’s usually quite independent, so this somewhat clingy behaviour is surprising, but you don’t entirely mind, his fur is very soft.
  Aventurine didn’t even make a single sound when you bathed him after accidentally spilling some bolognese sauce on his back—he was wandering around your feet and nearly tripped you when you turned around. 
  Perhaps this temporary (hopefully) form has made him more confident in seeking the closeness to you he craves, the need for connection that he’s too reluctant to engage in most times despite being together for so long. 
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Blade;
You squint your eyes open in the darkness of the night, why is it so hard to breathe suddenly? It woke you up, as if there was something hot and heavy on your chest.
  And there is, when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you see large flame-coloured eyes staring at you. Blade’s pitch black fur blends into the darkness of the night, but his eyes do not—if you didn’t know better you’d think there were two eyes floating in front of your face, but the body attached to them is very much standing on your chest.
  “... what?” you mumble sleepily, why is he staring at you like that? He doesn’t do this normally… you think. Maybe… does he?
  No response—you’re not sure what to expect, it’s not like he can talk in this form. 
  He does this every night, to a point you’ve started laying on your side so he at least has to stand on the bed. One night, you even reach out and grab him, pulling him into your arms so he’s unable to stand and stare like that. You come out with scratched arms, but it was worth the somewhat peaceful sleep when he finally settles. 
  It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’s always been in the corner of your eyes, sometimes waiting for you to finish what you’re doing, sometimes just standing there—not necessarily even looking at you or engaging with you in any way. He just likes to stand in the same room. 
  Except now he’s perched on shelves, under sofas or chairs, looming behind a corner so you almost step on him.
  Over time, he becomes a bit restless, but other than hiding away in warm, dark spots… but as you settle into bed, he’s always ready and hops onto your stomach as soon as your back hits the mattress. 
  The other Stellaron Hunters’ reactions range from curious concern to finding it hilarious. Firefly mentioned they have two cat members now, Blade wasn’t very happy about it… the day after she offhandedly mentioned that she could barely sleep and felt like someone was watching her the entire time. You decided not to mention his habit. 
  Blade doesn’t quite follow you at your heel the entire time… but he does always seem to be in the same general area, as he always has. It’s a bit of a relief, you thought you might get lonely without his constant presence. 
  He sometimes doesn’t run off when you pet him. Sometimes. 
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Dr. Ratio;
Ratio is appalled by this development, he hates it. He doesn’t have opposable thumbs, he can’t communicate properly, and you won’t stop pinching his ears. You’re lucky he doesn’t bite you. 
  He, in his infinite wisdom, developed a way for him to communicate with you. He may be a cat now, but his work doesn’t have space to halt for even a day! And so it’s up to you to continue it under his guidance, because he will not be seen like this by his assistants. 
  His way is quite funny, for complex explanations or lengthy dialogue, he will slap his paws on a holo-keyboard to type it out, but otherwise he presses buttons laid out on one of his workbenches for general commands. “Write”, “Open drawer”, “Fetch tool” (he then vaguely gestures which one), and even “Eat” and “Nap”.
  You asked him if he wanted to add a voice-over to the buttons so you wouldn’t just have to listen to a buzzer made to catch your attention, but he just stared at you blankly.
  You pinch and rub his ears, despite protests.
  To ensure subtlety, he demands you carry him in your bag in and out of the lab and past the reception… and you can’t in good faith deny that it’s adorable to see his head poke out of your bag and squint around to make sure the coast is clear once you’re outside. 
  Ratio had never imagined to hear as absurd of a suggestion as when you asked him if you should ask any of his Intelligentsia Guild colleagues about this, surely they can put their brains together and come up with a solution? 
  Absolutely not, he says, by knocking an empty coffee paper cup over. 
  You caught him staring longingly at his own bathtub and asked if he wanted to take a dip, you can wash him. The idea sounded good… until he stuck his purple paw into the soapy water and felt the spine-shattering feeling of his fur sticking together and immediately wriggled so aggressively out of your grip—startling you of course—that you both went tumbling into the water.
  He sat on his bed, towel under his body and over his back with a traumatised expression on his face for about forty eight minutes straight. Not even an offering of some nice cheese from the fridge brought him out of it. 
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Jiaoqiu;
Different from the rest of the cast, Jiaoqiu has found himself in the form of an extremely furry fox, matched exactly to the colour of his hair. He’s so soft that you can’t help but run your fingers through it, messing up the direction of the coat and requiring Jiaoqiu to stand up and shake himself a few times to right it out. It comes to a point he will nip at your fingers if your hand comes too close.
  One afternoon, you’re wondering where he went off to—he has a chronic tendency to wander off, even in regular foxian form—you go into the pantry to see his tail swaying excitedly, half of his body disappearing into a woven bag of peanuts. Startled for a moment that he might not be able to digest that—you’ve never had to take care of an actual fox before—you hurry towards him and pull him out, holding Jiaoqiu up.
  He screams in such a disturbingly human way you almost drop him. Whether the scream was of surprise or protest is hard to tell.
  You stand in front of him, sat on the divan in your home and try to look stern… but the smile and closed eyes he makes even in this form is so eerily similar to how he normally would with his usual expression that it almost freaks you out. You shouldn’t be surprised, he’s basically just a furry version of himself… but it’s too close! 
  And he got away with it too, damn him. 
  Despite the pale pink fur, the tip of his tail and ears, his legs and paws are all dark, and you can’t help but hold them, stroke through the fur through the change of colour and Jiaoqiu—though normally not liking his tail or ears to be touched, in this form he seems to accept it… he can’t lie to you with turning his snout up, you see his tail sway when your hand comes close, despite how he would nip at them before—you’ve cracked the code, smooth the fur back down after ruffling it, and it’s acceptable.
  Don’t think for a second that you’re safe to indulge in any unhealthy habits or dumb decisions even though his “warning smile” is absent, he will bite your pants and pull so hard they might rip. You were about to be roped into some nonsense by Feixiao, seeing the perfect opportunity to borrow you for some “racing”, when Jiaoqiu comes running at breakneck speed, bites your pants, and effectively drags you away.
  Feixiao just watches with a grin. Good luck next time.
  He sulks a bit about not being able to do his job for such an extended period of time, he has a good sense of responsibility and doesn't like to sway from his sworn duties too much.
  Also, he can tell by the smell alone that the food you make for yourself in the absence of his skilled work is severely lacking in critical ingredients, and is also plated wrong. But that’s more of a subjective nitpick—maybe he’s just getting restless.
  He decides to hide one of your shoes and watch in amusement as you search high and low through the house the next morning. Sitting on the carpet with a foxy smile. 
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Jing Yuan;
Jing Yuan is delighted. He plops himself down on you no matter what you’re doing, if there is no surface to curl up, he will lie down by your feet, or anywhere he can be touching you with at least a part of his body. 
  Raking your hand through his thick fur, you pull your hand back and it’s covered in white hairs, he sheds more than Mimi.
  You vehemently vetoed his decision to rename Mimi to Wave-Treading Snow Lion when it began growing and showing signs of not being a grimalkin like he suspected it was.
  Speaking of Mimi, you walk into the Seat of Divine Foresight and see the two of them splayed out by the massive windows, artificial sunlight bathing them in warmth as Mimi lies on the floor belly up… and Jing Yuan lies on Mimi’s belly, his own facing up towards the sun. You don’t dare disturb them—mostly because you worry that Mimi will roll over and crush poor Jing Yuan under it. 
  So you set the documents on his desk slowly and sneak back out, the Cloud Knights always present in the room stand still and try not to do more than whisper between themselves.
  If you thought Jing Yuan was sleepy before, you were in for a surprise. As soon as his hands turned to paws, he was lounging around as lazily as he could get away with, which was infinite in this form—perhaps this was the taste of retirement he needed, and it might convince him to go through with it… you hope. For his sake. 
  Unfortunately, your partner is cursed with a perpetual disturbance of his naps, and a problem comes up in regards to an illegal trade of magically-charged artefacts—one of which having the potential to explode if handled wrong, which could hurt innocents during the exchange. He circles the Seat of Divine Foresight like he would normally in thought… except instead of his boots touching the ground in a rhythmic thump, it’s small paws padding on the floor.
  It’s cute—but then again, he’s always cute.
  Thankfully the problem is resolved due to the Cloud Knights having previously acquired knowledge of suspicious movements over the last weeks and are able to intercept the exchange.
  As a reward for his hard work, you make a big bowl of juicy fruits for him to dive into—though Mimi’s snout got in before him, and stole about half of it… you snooze you lose, dozing general. 
  Of course, he didn’t let you off that easy, cuddles were demanded with headbutts and loud meows of protest if you turned to do anything else, so you were stuck with two cats hogging your attention for the rest of the night, good thing you have two hands to scratch behind both of their ears at the same time.
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Moze;
You thought for a moment he didn’t actually retain his senses, and had ran off somewhere, you dragged Feixiao with you to search the entirety of the Xianzhou Yaoqing… only to return home several hours later, exhausted and disappointed, to see Moze sitting on the kitchen counter with a fish in his mouth, tail swaying contently as he ate it off the bones.
  He would just randomly wander off and return at odd times, once you saw some blood on his paw and worried he had hurt himself, but no matter how you looked or poked and prodded, there was no wound. It must have been the capture of another fish or another… because, surely, Feixiao doesn’t have him doing work like this?
  You suppose it’s quite a good cover… no one would suspect a cat…?
  After locking him in your room for the workday to ensure he doesn’t go off somewhere, as you had asked an elder of the Alchemy Commission to come over and have a look at him, you came back with the old man to find the room empty.
  Given cat form, Moze has become the perfect escape artist—not that there’s much anyone can do to hold him down in his normal form. 
  Try as you might, it becomes somewhat of a game of you trying to keep him in one single place, and him disappearing like a leaf on the wind, only to show up later with a treat… usually for himself, but once he brought you a pouch of sesame balls. You hope he paid for it somehow, but you don’t hold your breath either.
  He sleeps exclusively by your feet, circles a few times and wriggles into a comfortable position against either leg that’s closer. You tried to get him to sleep closer to your torso or on your inviting arm, but he always stood up and returned to the spot by your legs after a few minutes. 
  One time, you were stroking his tail absentmindedly and accidentally pinched it only slightly—yet he still jumped into the air like you had just stepped on it with a loud yeowl, making you yourself jump as he suddenly sped off across the room and almost slammed himself into the door leading to the study.
  You decided not to play with his tail after that, he even left scratches on the floor with his hurried scuttling across the room. 
  You spotted Jiaoqiu trying to feed him some of the ‘concoction’ he was making, which Moze sniffed curiously at—but you’re fairly certain there are not many things in that broth that will settle well—or at all—in his kitty stomach, and thus you swoop in and feign extreme interest in Jiaoqiu’s dish. Of course, the foxian sees through you easily and smiles widely. “Ah, why don’t you try it then?”
  You got yourself into this position, and so, you resign yourself to burnt taste buds for the next few hours. It’s delicious as always, but your poor mouth… Moze rubs his furry head against your legs in comfort. 
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Sunday;
He couldn’t believe it. Sunday stared at himself in the reflecting mirror of the Astral Express’ windows for about ten whole minutes after being brought back to it in the state he was in. His ears flatten to his head and he glares at anyone that tries to approach, he doesn’t want to interact with anyone like this!
  He flees to his room and stays under the bed for several hours before you manage to lure him out with some delicious smelling grilled fish. Sunday reluctantly pokes his head out to grab it—which is when you grab him. 
  He flails and meows, struggling and squirming as you pick him up and stand… only to coo at him and rub his cheeks with your thumbs, musing how cute he is.
  Cute?! This is a horror scenario! 
  Despite his displeased meowing and nibbling on your fingers when you try to pet him, Sunday eventually gives up when he learns that you just find his struggling adorable. Suddenly your staring when he gets annoyed with small things start to make sense. Like when he hit his head on the ridge of a table after bending under it to fetch a pen he dropped, and the brief surge of frustration and annoyance he felt—only for you to swoop in to rub his head and see if it hurt. 
  He sulks the entire time, he doesn’t like it one bit. 
  March asks him if she can put him in outfits like she does with Pom-Pom, and he strategically avoids her for several days. Not a chance. 
  Thankfully, despite you ‘tormenting’ him on the first day, Sunday does seek comfort in you… you’re warm, and somehow you know exactly where to scratch behind his ears and under his chin where he can’t quite reach well enough. 
  You almost pull him in and rub your face into his furry torso when Sunday kneads at your shirt when you lay down to sleep, but decide that watching him is much cuter. You get such cuteness aggression when he does the smallest things. He purrs when you massage his paws or draw your fingers all the way down his back—and get a fistful of hair while you’re at it—and eventually he starts to do it at the smallest gestures… Pom-Pom once brought up concerns to Himeko that they thought that the train might have a problem, some kind of motor malfunction.
  Turns out Sunday was napping in the warm engine room and purring so loudly that when Pom-Pom leaned close to his hiding spot, they thought it was the engine. 
  He doesn’t let anyone pet him properly except you, not because he doesn’t trust the rest of the Express members—trust is a strong word in any case—but because when he closes his eyes in comfort, he wants to open them again and see you stroking through his fur. Nothing personal, though March does take it a bit personally.
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cowboygenesis · 3 months ago
Text
18+ knuckle up | astarion x reader
summary: after a drunken night and a dumb bet you're left in an emotional (and physical) chokehold by your favourite vampire companion.
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pairing: astarion ancunin x afab!bard!reader tags: 18+, smut, fluff, switch dynamics, m/f, fingering, unprotected sex, resolved tension, playfighting, sex after training session. word count: 7.8k notes: this fic was SO fun to write even if im a gale girlie myself. this is my first attempt at writing ANY bg3 character, so i really hope i did okay. if not, let me know! comments help me improve my writing (and warm my heart, seriously, thanks to anyone taking the time out of their day to comment). anyways gang, no beta as ALWAYS, you know how we roll. ENJOY! masterlist.
It still made little sense to you.
You had honed your skills at the most prestigious music schools in Faerûn for years, pouring your heart into every note, every chord, only to find yourself shamelessly ridiculed for an entirely different kind of performance. And by a man you’d grown to like, no less.
"Get up, darling," Astarion’s voice drips with amusement, the self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips with infuriating smugness. His crimson eyes watch you with a predatory glint, locking onto your vulnerable form sprawled in the dirt—a definitive result of his frustratingly agile moves.
You groan lowly, propping yourself up on bruised elbows, wincing as a dull ache pulses through your body. A stray lock of hair falls in front of your face, and you blow it away in frustration.
"I’m starting to think this isn’t educational at all." You glare at him with all the venom you can muster, eyebrows furrowed as his arms cross.
Your eyes absentmindedly scan down his body, taking note of his slightly disheveled shirt and tousled hair. He looks… good. Beautiful, even. Basking in the soft moonlight seeping through the vast greenery above, he stands there like he’s in his element.
He chuckles, seemingly unbothered by your vapid tone. "Oh, but it is, my dear. Think of it as a new, humbling experience. Valuable in its own right."
You bite back a retort as he offers you a hand, his expression making your eye twitch. You never thought you’d fall for arrogance, yet ironically it’s your own conceit that might have brewed your upcoming downfall.
After a particularly boisterous night of drinking in camp—brought on by the recent victory over a pack of gnolls—you foolishly accepted Astarion’s challenge to best him in hand-to-hand combat. Your alcohol-addled brain had been more confident than your body, and now, after a series of harsh jabs and sidesteps, you were being taught the harsh reality of “real” combat.
Defeated, you eventually obliged a quick lesson from the master himself, which he had (admittedly suspiciously) made you take after losing your bet.
At the very least, the bruising would rid you of your lingering hangover once you were done taking the thrashing. Plus, you hoped it would bring you two closer. Figuratively and physically.
He raises an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your hesitation. "Come now, my dear, don’t be so stubborn. You seemed so eager at first,"
"You told me you’d teach me to fight, not fall on my damn face," you lament, but begrudgingly accept his help, allowing him to pull you to your feet.
His grip is firm, and the coolness of his skin sends a small jolt of electricity down your spine. You had often imagined what holding his hand would feel like during the colder nights alone in your tent, and while the circumstances ended up being less than ideal, it was good enough for you. For now.
You rub at your sore arm with a frown and catch that Astarion, unmistakably, stands completely unscathed, his pale complexion almost glowing in the ambient light.
"I’m thinking…” he muses, glancing at the weathered lyre resting peacefully by the roots of a tree. His lips curl into a smirk, and you can feel the teasing jab sting your pride. “Perhaps you’re better suited to the more... delicate aspects of life,"
Your jaw clenches. While bards famously went underestimated— a fact you were reminded of frequently— it hurt more coming from someone you so badly wanted to fuck.
"Oh, I don’t know," you say with a saccharine tone, brushing the residual dirt from your pants; your favorite pair, yet you’d probably end up having to toss them out after your poor performance today. "I think a harp string could make a fine garrote in the right hands."
Astarion’s laughter rings out clearly, and your heart skips a beat unbeknownst to you. "Dully noted. Fortunately for the both of us, we’re stripped of any weaponry in our current pinnacle."
Your eyes roll, running a hand through your disheveled, sweat-slick hair and adjusting your posture to the one he had taught you: one foot forward, back straight.
"Again," you demand, squaring your shoulders. If he wanted to mock you, fine— but you wouldn’t go down without a proper fight.
Astarion’s eyes widen, but his smirk never falters. He sighs in faux exasperation but quickly matches your posture. "So eager to be tossed into the dirt again, darling."
Your face flashes with heat at his painfully languid remark, your mind going places it probably shouldn’t. You knew the pet names were simply an inherent part of his vocabulary and that he used them generously, with everyone, yet a part of you liked to imagine they were reserved for you, and you only.
“Try me again,” you reply curtly, lowering your gaze as you feel the tension sprawling through your aching body.
He shoots you an arrogant smirk, his gaze penetrating your soul with an intensity you didn’t think possible. He bares his fangs, licking over his bottom lip lazily. “Let’s see it, then.”
Astarion approaches, but this time, you’re ready. As he moves to close the distance, you anticipate the first jab, ducking low before he can catch you off-guard. You dart to the side, aiming a swift thrust toward his midsection. It’s clumsy and unpracticed, but it seems to work.
Your fist connects with his toned stomach. He topples off-balance, but only for a fleeting second. His reflexes are too sharp, too honed through his century-long life for you to overcome with your pitiful attempt.
He catches himself with a graceful pivot, turning the stumble into a curt spin that has him facing you once more.
"Fast learner, are we?" he muses, watching you closely through his fists. "I might actually have to try now."
"Don’t flatter yourself," you shoot back, heart racing. At that moment, you recognize you can’t win. Not this time, probably not the next. But you don’t want to forfeit, even if it means enduring a day or two of terrible muscle soreness.
Every sidestep, every deflected blow, brings you closer, the air between you growing heavy with static. You aren’t sure if it’s the heat of the fight or the dangerous proximity, but you can feel it—an irresistible, undeniable pull.
"Careful now," Astarion purrs as you barely miss his face with a rugged swing. He catches your wrist, holding it tight as he leans in, breath ghosting over your ear. "You wouldn’t want to harm me, would you?"
You swallow hard, your body tensing under his tight grip. The closeness is intoxicating, but you force yourself to stay focused, pushing back against the growing heat in your chest.
"Maybe I would." You don’t.
For a moment, neither of you move. The world seems to narrow, the charged atmosphere thick with tacit suspense. You can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, senses sharp, attuned to every breath he takes as they intermingle with yours.
"Darling," a dramatic pout creeps onto his lips, only to be replaced by a sly grin seconds later. You feel his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to slip free. It’s a calculated move, once he grants you himself. "You wound me with your words."
You take a step back, breathless. This isn’t over, not by a long shot, yet your muscles fight against that thought. They scream at you with pain, worn and stretched by what feels like hours of sparring.
“Sounds like you’re the one trying to wound me,” you taunt, shooting him a lowered gaze. “Why’d you take me out here? Trying to make your next kill less obvious?”
The vampire had insisted you two train away from the bustle of camp, even if it meant missing out on tonight’s feast. While the rest of your companions enjoyed the finest ale Baldur’s Gate could offer, you were stuck trying to prove something to your crush.
Astarion's grin widens, his eyes flashing with amusement as he takes a slow, calculated step forward. “Now, now,” he purrs, voice dripping with mock innocence. “If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have seen it coming— no need for childish theatrics.”
You hold his gaze, refusing to let him see the slight tremble in your legs from the strain of the sparring—or maybe it’s from something else entirely, you can’t be sure. You know he’s dangerous, that this game you’ve been playing with him has always had its sharp edges. But there’s something about that edge, about the way he dances so easily between teasing and threatening, that weakens your knees and makes you breathless every damn time.
"Then why are we here?" you challenge, taking a step back to match his forward one. Your voice is steady, but your pulse is hammering in your throat. The woods feel like a world apart from camp, the sounds of chatter distant as you sit in your isolated little bubble of the world. “It’s a little… intimate, don’t you think?”
Astarion tilts his head, studying you with a curious twinkle in his crimson eyes. “That sharp tongue again,” he says quietly, “Do you truly believe I’d go through all the trouble of bringing you out here just to end you? If I wanted your death, I’d make it enjoyable for both of us.”
Your breath catches at his words. His words drip with venom, but somewhere deep down, in the depths of his blackened heart, you swear you feel an instance of temptation.
“What’s the game then?” you ask, holding his gaze despite the anxiety twisting in your chest. “Because by the Gods, I know you love those.”
Astarion’s smirk softens, but the intensity in his eyes never falters. He steps closer again, until there’s barely any space between you, his presence intoxicating. “Maybe I just wanted to see what you’re capable of,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. “Maybe I wanted to see how far you’d let me push you before you push back.”
His hand hovers near yours, fingers brushing lightly against your skin, but he doesn’t make full contact.
“And maybe,” he continues, leaning in just enough that his breath grazes your cheek, “I’m curious what could happen once we both stop playing.”
Your heart is racing now, and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline from the sparring or the charged air between you that’s making your head spin a hundred miles an hour.
“You’ll never know,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with a boldness you don’t quite feel. “Because I’m not backing down from this.”
His grin widens at your rebellion, and with a swift, fluid motion, the man’s playful smirk turns into a vicious one. Before you can react, he spins you around, movements smooth and practiced, making you lose your balance.
Your back hits his chest, and within seconds he wraps one arm around your neck in a tight headlock— his grip is firm, but not painful. Your mind strays to his other arm, feeling it press against your waist to keep you securely against him.
“Such a feisty little thing,” he purrs into your ear, his breath warm against your sweat-slick skin.
You struggle against his hold, trying to twist free, but his grip is relentless. “Fuck you,” you manage to scowl, though the words are strained by the pressure on your throat.
Astarion chuckles softly, and you feel it reverberate through your body. “Oh, she bites back,” he teases, his voice a dark, seductive buzz. “Are you taunting me, darling?”
You try to shift your weight, to find a way out of the headlock, but his grip doesn’t waver. “You’re projecting,” you growl breathlessly.
“And you’re persistent,” he replies, “Suits you well.”
You feel a warmth spread through your belly, tickling your nerve endings and making your thighs squeeze. You thank the Gods he can’t see your flustered face right now.
And suddenly, he releases. Not fully, but his grip weakens enough to allow you a moment to slip out again, stumbling over your own feet as you face him.
“Here’s your second freebie,” he chuckles, getting into position again. “Careful, next one might come at a price.”
“Like I need a third one,”
You recalibrate, then in the spur of the moment, pounce. Your arms extend as they barrel toward him. His eyes widen, but he manages to catch them mid-air; his hands clasping into yours and pushing against you.
“Fair strategy,” he commends, and you sense it might at least be partially earnest. “Desperate, but fair.”
You strain against him, breath hitching when he periodically pushes back. Whenever he does, you feel his gaze boring into you with a crazed intensity.
Then, you try not to think about the fact your digits fit together really damn well— and fail. Take what you can get, right?
“What’s wrong, my dear?” he sneers, slender fingers tightening around your palm. He leans in, your chests threatening to collide. “Getting distracted?”
You grit your teeth, leaning in with your full body weight, but he barely budges. “You wish,” you shoot back breathlessly.
“I feel it,” he corrects in a whisper, leaning in just enough that his lips hover dangerously close to your ear. “It’s in your eyes. You’re not even thinking about our little lesson anymore, are you?”
Your breath hitches at his words, the undoubted truth in them cutting through the haze in your mind. He’s right. The bet, your lesson —somewhere along the lines, your sparring posture went lax. All that matters to you now is the palpable closeness, your hands in his, and his hot, idle breath on your neck. Your throat threatens to cast a strained groan, but you withhold.
“I—” you start to protest, but your voice falters. His chest is now pressed flush against yours, pushing you forward.
“Admit it,” he murmurs, his voice low, seductive. “And I’ll let you win.”
Your hands tremble in the small space they lock with his, the smoldering red of his gaze telling you he knows exactly what he’s doing—how his actions leave you a mess in body and soul.
“I won’t, I— I can’t,” you manage to stutter, but the words sound weak and unconvincing even to your own weary ears.
He chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through you like a slow current. “Liar,” he whispers, and you catch a glimpse of his pearly fangs in your hazed peripherals. “Not a good one, either. Another thing I should school you on.”
Your eyes roll, but the implication accelerates the growing tension within your guts. “Just how generous you are.”
His head tilts gradually, and you go pale as you catch his tongue running along the length of his bottom lip.
“No, darling,” he purrs, “I haven’t shown you generous just yet.”
And then, you catch his eyes darkening. There’s a certain mania to them when they widen, pupils blown out like a cat’s when he suddenly pushes firmly against you. Your feet stumble backward, staring into him as a wild grin plasters on his face.
You yelp when you lose balance, lips ajar and eyes closed shut as you feel your back crash into something soft, or at least, soft enough to leave you un-bruised.
When your eyes flutter open, he’s on top of you. You study his broad shoulders, the pale neck between them, and finally let your half-lidded gazes connect in a silent, tension-filled juncture.
The ambiance of dusk quiets down to a soft murmur, crickets chirping in the distance as his strong body hovers inches above you, hands placed firmly around your wrists to successfully lock you in place.
“Seems to me you’ve lost our little bet,” he purrs out, and your breath hitches as one of his legs slides between yours, slowly inching to put a distance between your knees.
All you can do is stare up at him hungrily, desperately, drinking in his weathered features and pray he’d let you run your fingers through his flaxen locks at some point in the night.
“No clever retort? That’s not the little bard I know and love,” he teases, and your hips almost buck into him at that one word. You know he doesn’t mean it, yet your teeth still clench when your body jolts in response to his familiar lilt.
“You’re playing dirty,” you finally breathe out, cringing at how strained your voice sounds as you lie under his weight.
“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” he retorts, his crimson gaze boring into you before gradually disappearing into your neck.
His lips hover over your skin, hot breath tickling the soft spot near your pulse point as you gasp quietly. You feel him hesitate, arms tensing and releasing over your own as if soaked in apprehension. You strain your muscles, eyes shutting in preparation for the inevitable, sharp bite coming onto your poor vein. Gods, was this his plan all along?
But then, you feel the grip on your wrists loosen.
Your eyes flutter open, and you quickly catch the tousled white locks in your neck as the vampire looms over you.
“Here’s your chance to run,” he hitches, and somehow he sounds just as out of breath as you do.
You lie on the blanket of moss, chest heaving and gaze tracing languidly over the treeline as you feel your body go limp. He’s giving you one last opt-out before… before something happens, be it a bloody massacre or... Or?
Your mind shrieks at you: take advantage, prove yourself on top in this stupid bet— but the little voice in your heart urges you to stay under his firm body; find out if your instincts rang true after all.
You stay. Not only that, but you let your hands slip out of his, one of them snaking down his shoulder while the other runs through his waves. They’re silky, and soft, and when you catch a whiff of rosemary in the air, your grip tightens.
“Astarion,” you whisper, voice surprisingly steady as your heart beats a constant rhythm into the space between you.
His body jerks abruptly, albeit subtly, and you feel him smirking— smiling— into the soft flesh of your neck. “So I was right, after all.”
His face withdraws from you slightly, the residual condensation of his warm breath leaving you shivering. You catch his gaze, half-lidded and scanning your expression with apt concentration.
“Feisty, spirited little thing,” he continues, inching towards you again.
Your stiff body jerks, grazing against him as your shaky hand snakes to his cheek. You cradle it gently but with urgency, and there’s a beat of silence before you finally understand what to do.
You inhale softly, catch his questioning gaze, and crash your lips onto his.
He groans softly when you meet in the middle, lowering himself with his arms. Your chest thrums with the beat of your heart, shooting waves of dopamine down your worn spine.
When you feel his nimble hand on your jaw, your lips part with a sigh. He matches your buzz with his own self-satisfied murmur, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
You smile. He’s sweet and bitter, and you whine gently into the kiss when you recognize brandy on his tongue.
This is what you’ve been waiting for all these lonesome months.
The culmination dawns on you like a powerful current, making your eyes squeeze and your hands tremble in his waves.
He seems to notice your tremor, but instead of slowing down or (Gods forbid) stopping, he dives deeper. You moan into his mouth as he wriggles a hand around your waist, holding you close to his hips and suddenly, you feel a steady pressure grinding into your crotch.
The movement is slow, precise, practiced. His hips buff into yours in a controlled rhythm, making you sense his already taut erection through the thick material of his linen pants.
“Do you get it now, darling?” he murmurs, breaking the kiss to stare lazily into your glassy eyes. “Look what you do to me.”
His hand snakes to your blouse, and before you can register what’s happening, you hear three ivory buttons pop off followed by the cool, evening breeze tickling your heated skin. You don’t need to open your eyes to know your nipples are standing taut in the chilly air, yet the image makes you redden.
“How— how unceremonious,” you croak out, moaning softly when his large hand begins palming at your right breast.
His thumb and forefinger squeeze at your erect nipple, toying with it in smooth, tactile movements and relishing the way his name sounds coming out of your kiss-swollen lips.
“Mm, forgive me,” he chuckles darkly, planting a quick, ardent kiss on your lips before lowering his face to your chest. His tongue licks a slow, tender strip up your sternum before he looks up to smile at you; it’s a genuine look of satisfaction, untouched by the plague that is his faux arrogance. “I’ll make sure to be good next time.”
’Next time?’
You look at him lazily, gaze puzzled and lips ajar to ask but he doesn’t even offer you the chance. His hand dips from your tits to the band of your pants, sliding underneath it with his finger, the coolness of his skin making you gasp.
His mouth assaults your other nipple with sucks, nibbles, and gentle bites, making you mewl under him as his hand continues to travel down the soft flesh of your thigh. He rubs it gently, lovingly, starting under your hip and slowly stroking his way toward the inner region, where you’re most sensitive.
“Divine,” he mumbles against your chest, pressing a kiss to your rib. “So divine.”
His free palm moves to your exposed belly, massaging it gently. You sigh at the slow, consistent pressure, moving your trembling hand to the back of his neck.
When your one eye pops open in curiosity, you see him snug against your body, face contorted with empathic fixation as he labors down your body. It’s intimate, yes, but also… loving. His tongue is warm against your breast, and his palms caress your skin with slow, delicate strokes; the same hands you’ve seen wield blood-soaked daggers and longbows.
He runs two digits along the stretchy fabric of your bottoms, lip caught between his teeth. He catches you staring and smirks up at you.
“Enjoying yourself?” he husks out, and you’re desperate enough to nod wordlessly.
He chuckles at your enthusiasm, hand smoothing down the waistband of your panties that peers from behind your bottoms. Not even your cutest pair, but oh well. He doesn’t even seem to notice, as his digits play with the elastic.
You’re already so exposed, but nothing can prepare you for what he does next.
With a few more kisses to your breasts, he tugs at the two waistbands, pulling down your pants and panties in one go.
The material slides off your legs and you hiss out, feeling the coolness caress your slick core. Your hands instinctively reach to cover up, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a strong grasp around your wrist.
“Oh no, no,” He looks up at you with an arched eyebrow, and somehow, despite his collected mien, you catch a soft dusting of pink across his cheekbones. “Don’t you dare deny me this view. Not after I’ve waited for so long.”
Your face heats up at the brazen comment, but that only seems to draw him closer. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and he takes the hint immediately.
You connect in a heated kiss, and this time, Astarion is the one groaning against you. You work in tandem, like a gentle, effortless dance, heavy breaths intermingling in a sweet symphony of hums and sighs when…
You feel a touch against your heat. The contact is almost impalpable, yet your eyes flutter open in shock as the man’s fingers trace over your slit.
He withdraws from your kiss, hovering inches from your lips with a soft smile.
“S’unfair,” you slur, gazing up at him with a pleasure-drunken gaze. He exhales loudly, and you gasp. His fingers dip in, rubbing slow circles around your clit. “You— Gods—”
“Yeah? Tell me,” he taunts lowly, continuing his torturously languid movements with a devious smirk plastered on his perfect face. “What’s got you so bothered, my sweet?”
He dips down, teasing your entrance with his index. You pant softly at the prolonged stimulation, trying your damn best to stay focused on furrowing your eyebrows in mock anger.
“Got me so exposed and—” you trail tensely as his finger probes your entrance. “—And you’re still in your damn clothes.”
He hums in acknowledgment, but you doubt he’s even listening to you by how he surveys your body, bottom lip caught between his fangs. “I’m about to show you ‘generous’, like I promised.”
And then, he bottoms out. You moan, feeling two of his digits sliding into you, the slickness of your opening making it an easy feat.
You squeeze around him, and he pumps into you once, then twice for good measure. The sound of his movements is unbelievably and utterly obscene, making your stomach knot in delight.
“So wet already,” he purrs through a smirk, watching you writhe under him, “Don’t tell me our little sparring session got you this bothered.”
You roll your eyes, thighs squeezed tight around his wrist as you move your hips in tandem with his rhythm.
“Come on, talk to me,” he taunts again, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and letting his fingers fuck you in a steady, purposeful rhythm. “Now’s not the time to get coy.”
He switches gears, stopping his movement so he can curl his fingers inside you. He presses against the sweet spot, his thumb reaching to simultaneously rub slow circles against your swollen clit.
You cry out at the newfound pressure, the warmth in your belly twisting into a vortex of fiery delight.
“I—” you mewl against him, wrapping your fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt. “I’m gonna— c-cum—”
His movements quicken at your desperate words, digits working hard against your favorite spot.
“Cum then, my darling,” he taunts firmly, his free hand roaming under your jaw and holding it in place. “Cum for me. Let me— let me look at you, sweet thing.”
Your glassy eyes struggle to focus on his face, but once they do, he hits something white-hot inside you.
His lips crash desperately onto yours, but you struggle to kiss him back through the blinding pleasure of your climax. It thunders down your legs, up your belly, making you cry out against his mouth as everything melts away into a wonderful oblivion.
The last thing you see before your muscles go lax is red.
He rubs your clit methodically through your high, letting you ride it out peacefully as he burrows into your neck again.
When your breath steadies, you feel his fingers slowly withdraw. The emptiness that follows makes you cry out softly, helplessly watching as the man runs his palms up and down your sides.
He presses a soft, soothing kiss against your swollen lips, and you can’t help but glare when you see that he’s still fully dressed, even after your heated orgasm.
He catches your pouting and raises an eyebrow.
“Yes, darling?” he purrs, pulling away to take you all in. You’re caught speechless when his hungry gaze scans down your nude body; starting at your smitten face and ending with a lingering glimpse at your spent pussy.
“Please,” you mewl out, raking your hands down his clothed abs. “Gods— Please take these off, I can’t—”
He does.
His hands momentarily withdraw from around you, and with a swift, deft move, he tosses his shirt off.
The silken cloth comes flying into the night like a phantasmal figure, and you watch it catch onto a stray branch to your right.
Your gaze skims hungrily down his sculpted body, watching his muscles tense and release with every little movement. Yes, you’ve seen him shirtless before, yet the context of your current predicament somehow makes it feel like it’s the first time all over again.
Unbeknownst to you, his hands work at his bottoms, swiftly unbuttoning the waistband and letting it sit loose against his hips. You catch a soft, white trail against the edge of his undergarments, leading down to a straining, tented mess below.
Your hand reaches out absent-mindedly, still drunk off the high of your climax and so, so desperate to finally feel him for yourself.
“Not so fast, darling,” he scolds, gently slapping your hand away and letting it wither at your side.
“Let me touch you,” you retort desperately, but he only chuckles as his fingers begin working at his waistband.
“You lost our bet,” he explains, sliding a thumb under the elastic and letting it lower. You catch the very base of his straining erection, and that taunting alone makes you gasp. “Gives me the upper hand.”
“Says who?” you hiss under your breath, failing to give him the glare he deserves as your eyes bore into his.
He gives you a once over, gaze drawing languidly over your exposed body, and only then does the extent of your nudity finally dawn on you.
“Don’t make me laugh.”
You shift under him, shimmying within the small space he allows, and he takes your brief distraction as a moment to unravel his pants completely. They drop to the ground behind you, leaving him in his undergarments, and you bite your lip at how dangerously lax they sit around his hips.
“I think I’ve left you waiting long enough,” he mutters, and your lips go ajar.
The thumb hooked into his briefs starts sliding down his waist, lower and lower until you’re finally even in terms of undress— and you’re ever so starstruck by the sight of his bulging cock hovering over your belly. It stands thick and taut within arm’s reach and you find the fact makes your mouth water.
Then, before you can think of touching him, you feel him place either hand below your knees. He looks up at you with a sly smirk, and you gasp softly when he pushes your thighs flat against your torso, feet in the air and scandalously exposed in front of him.
“You’re playing with me,” you mutter breathlessly, hissing as you feel his length stroking against your inner thigh.
His arms compress you tighter as you feel him lowering, the underside of his cock slapping against your tummy. The gasp that leaves your throat at the sudden contact widens your eyes, and he catches your gaze with his self-satisfied one.
“Do you like that I’m playing with you?” he follows up without a beat, his hips rutting forward. The movement is gentle, yet the pressure is enough to make you whine out in desperation— it’s also the only answer you manage to choke up for him before his cock slides between your wet folds.
“A-Ah— you fucking— fucking prick,” you hiss at the vampire, and so he bears his fangs at you through a wide grin. You find that it makes your breath hitch even amidst your despair.
“Now, now,” he reprimands, words syrupy, “bold words coming from someone so vulnerable.”
His nails dig into the soft flesh of your legs as he slides back and forth, taking meticulous care so that the head of his cock butts against your clit with every dip. The stimulation feels electric, and soon enough, you feel your still-sensitive body ramp up with heated energy for a second time this night.
A minute passes, yet it feels like an eternity. The air between you is thick with tension and the soft, repetitive harmony of your strained moans and his little gasps. You watch his eyes close in concentration, and despite his otherwise relaxed facade, you can tell he’s struggling to resist you by the way his eyebrows knit in the middle.
“Fuck me,” you breathe out, one of your hands extending to claw at his withholding forearm.
When your gazes meet, he looks surprisingly spent; eyes glassed-over, mouth ajar, and the slightest hint of sweat glazing his pale forehead. You realize that his domineering act seemed to come at the expense of his stamina: a resource you had slowly replenished in your comfortable position.
“Not— not yet, darling,” he hitches out, but the words appear tender and helpless to your trained ears. “I— I want to enjoy this— enjoy you—”
Your grip on his forearm tightens, making the bucking of his hips stutter. His eyebrow raises at your touch, but before he can shoot you a witty comment, you’re pushing him forward.
It happens within seconds.
Your knees straighten, feet slamming into his abdomen. He coughs at the sudden, unexpected impact, and you take the opportunity to grab tight onto his forearms. He falls backward, and just before his spine hits the soil beneath, you use the momentum to push yourself onto him.
When his eyes flutter open, you’re straddling his waist.
He blinks in brief confusion, surveying his surroundings before the crimson gaze finally turns to you.
He surveys your face, and you let him. The moment is like a silent meditation, heavy breaths intermingling as he takes your raw beauty in; the longing in your eyes, the soft dusting of pink across your nose, and ultimately, the plush of your lips he had ravaged mere moments ago.
Next, he moves to your body. His eyes scan down your taut nipples, down your tummy, and to the softness of your thighs squeezing his midriff to the ground. When he reaches the junction between your bodies, your hips buck as if on instinct.
“My, just how courageous we are,” he purrs under you, hands reaching to rub down the outside of your thighs. “I wouldn’t be so nice about your dirty tricks if I didn’t find this view thoroughly delectable.”
You shiver at his honeyed words, yet your gaze stays determined on him. Your palms go to rest atop his, marveling at the eccentric softness of his knuckles and the polarizing edge of the nails.
“No one ever said this would be a clean game,” you grin playfully, rocking your hips back to feel his hard length against the curve of your ass. When a soft hiss escapes his lips, you feel your ego inflate. “Sound familiar?”
His eyes roll, but the grin creeping onto his lips deceives him immediately.
His head tilts at you, fangs bearing in the soft moonlight. “You’re trouble.”
The mischief of your smile spins into a warm fondness. Your cheeks warm, and your heart swells, but you don’t quite understand why. “Oh how rich that is coming from you.”
And then you’re rising on your knees, hips hovering over his throbbing erection. Your palms connect, digits intertwining with his as you lower yourself onto him.
You test the waters first, letting his tip brush over your slit with feather-like touches. You hum gently at the teasing pleasure, and so does Astarion.
When you feel your tummy tightening with anticipation, you dive in. With a light shimmy, you line your hips with his, and with more desperation than you planned, you slide down.
You both hiss as the head of his cock penetrates you, the stretch making your palm tighten against his. You bend at the knees, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim after such a long, lonesome time.
Finally, you let your hips slam against his. The sudden, harsh movement makes you gasp out into the tantric air as his tip pokes against your womb. The dull pain quickly shifts into a flat, resonant pleasure, and you waste no time.
Your hips begin to buck against his, building a slow, steady rhythm until you’re confidently riding your vampire lover with a self-satisfied smirk on your lips.
Each thrust makes you mewl, moan, and cry out into the night, that pleasant angle of his cock hitting that same spot his fingers did just minutes ago.
His head rolls back into the ground, and with the remnants of his energy, he issues an occasional, quick rut into you. As it’s rare, you decide to savor it. You squeeze around him with the thrusts, and soon, you feel yourself running out of breath.
“I— I could let you do this for—hells— forever,” he hisses out, and suddenly, you feel his hands unclasp from yours and snake around your waist. “Where have you been all these centuries?”
Your upper body is dragged forward, your tits colliding with his toned chest when he pulls you into a tight, possessive embrace.
You gasp at the warmth between you, and your eyebrows soon furrow when you realize the position limits your hip movement. As you’re forced into a pause from your delirious riding, his lips crash onto yours.
Your tongues share a private, slack dance, heads tilting to adjust as you both hum and groan into the fiery kiss. You attempt to rut into him, and soon enough he gets the hint.
Keeping you immobilized against his chest, his hips pound up into you. The first few smacks are scandalously loud, and you revel in the newfound angle.
You’re lost in him, completely and utterly. When he moans, you respond with a hum— when his embrace tightens around you, you kiss him harder.
The familiar, fiery heat in your tummy bubbles up again. You feel it amp up, grow, and send jolts up your spine when suddenly, you’re being pushed up. When your eyes flutter open, you catch his still closed.
His chest stays firm against yours as he positions you upright, letting you straddle his hips as you’re both left sitting in the soft patch of grass and wildflowers.
With your body regaining its mobility, you start grinding against him again. The position allows for a deliciously intimate closeness, his cock burrowing deep into you as you resume riding him.
The pressure within you grows, emerging as a knot— threatening to unravel with every other thrust. Your clit rubs against the base of his groin, amplifying the pleasure into a sensation you’ve long forgotten about.
“A-Astarion—” you mewl out between kisses, and his hot breath tickles your face when he chuckles.
“Cum for me,” he sighs out, and the assertion comes off soft and pleading as it settles into the groves of your heart.
“O-Okay— I… I—”
He tightens his hold on your waist with one hand, as the other moves to cradle your cheek. His touch is unbelievably delicate and affectionate, and out of all the stimulation he had so graciously provided you this night, it’s that soft touch that sends you over the edge.
Your lips connect in one last kiss, and you moan throatily into his mouth. Your hips still, thighs squeezing as your pussy tightens around his cock in a moment of pure bliss. The steadily rising pressure in your belly finally tips over, sending a wave of bliss down your entire being.
Still, he keeps moving. You almost want to scream against him as his hips begin pounding into you again, the soft slaps quickening as he slowly peaks with you.
Withdrawing from the kiss to lean against your neck, he cums. Hard.
Your slowly declining climax seems to slam the gas pedal as you feel him release deep into you, the warmth spreading through your body like a genial embrace, a fact that makes him groan loudly against your mouth. Your breath stills in your throat, before finally releasing into a long, guttural moan— it echoes into the night, and your vision blurs.
White-hot bliss envelops your body, and you melt into Astarion’s for solace. You feel him grip you, caress your face, kiss away your adrenaline-fueled tears, and pant softly against your lips as your pussy spasms again.
Your orgasm envelops you in slow, pulsating waves as it withdraws, and you’re soon left huffing into the vampire’s flaxen locks. You think you hear him speak, but the ringing in your ears is too potent to know for certain.
Then, as the ringing finally retires, you hear him whisper your name. It’s a soft, patient call against the burning skin of your neck, one you commit to memory as you’re finally awarded your senses back— if only partially.
The forest feels exceptionally silent as you fall into his arms. You recognize the soft chirp of crickets in the distance, perhaps a distant hoot of owls, but it all seems to blend into an indecipherable blur as exhaustion floods your system.
Your head falls into the crook of his neck, and your mind sinks into the soft, languid thumps of his heart. His hand caresses your back, and you sigh deeply.
You sit there for what feels like hours, drinking each other in. You’ve waited so long, and finally, you’re at ease— it’s a feeling you wish to cherish, and if it wasn’t for the pesky passage of time, you’d choose to stay in this damned forest for eons; with him.
You feel him shift against you. His hands withdraw from your waist, and he whispers softly against you. “Come, my love.”
You hum in disagreement, face burrowing deeper into him. Yes, rosemary and brandy— now it’s clear to you.
He exhales sharply, and you smile into his neck. He waits for a beat, before placing a soft kiss to your temple. “Wait here.”
You nod gently and finally allow him to withdraw. The separation makes you sigh, your body shivering in the newfound cold of the night, but you persevere. In the longing to hold on to the moment for a little longer, you keep your eyes closed and hope he’ll return before you open them again.
You hear him shuffle around, walking from left to right, before finally returning to face you. “Hands up,” he mutters softly, and you do as you’re told in your pleasure-drunken stupor.
You feel him drape something silken over your sweat-slick body, the soft material draping your hips before coming to a stop at your thighs. When you breathe in, you immediately realize it’s not your shirt, so you grin.
When you’re comfortably wrapped up, he leans in. Once you finally sense the familiar warmth of his chest, you lean against his shoulder and breathe in his scent.
You’re surprised he does this for you. Tenderness is not exactly something you’d connect with a man of his past, of his skill. Yet, when his hands move to rest under your knees and back, you don’t resist.
He lifts you off the ground, letting your fatigued frame rest against him. He takes it upon himself to get you back to camp, safe and sound, and only slightly perturbed.
You drink in everything you can, letting yourself be greedy for once. The steadiness of his breath, his warm chest, the crinkling of leaves under his feet— it’s an image you swear to place, no matter what difficulties might threaten to befall you in the future.
And he’s silent up until you reach the campgrounds. The chatter of dinnertime has long died down, and when you open your eyes, you spot the crackling embers of firelight flickering away among a circle of stones. The flames cast a soft, warm light onto the closed tents, and you revel in the intimacy of the moment.
“Everyone met their bedtime while we’ve been naughty sneaking out,” he murmurs with a chuckle, and you close your eyes hurriedly in hopes of feigning slumber. Still, you can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face at his brazen comment.
You reach the outskirts and finally spot his tent just below an old, sturdy oak tree. You recall the talks you had out front so many times before, back when your feelings were just sparks of something much stronger and much, much warmer.
He crouches down and with an unsurprising agility climbs into the little shelter with you still in his arms. You lie slack against him, letting his arms lay you gently onto his woolen mat. You melt into the warmth almost immediately, sighing out dreamily when you feel his presence beside you.
It’s silent for a moment, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you catch him staring at you. His gaze is thoughtful but warm, lingering over your form with a certain glimmer.
“I guess it’s official, then,” you sigh out, closing your eyes again and letting a lazy smile drift over your features.
He pauses for a moment, then clears his throat. “What… what is?”
You chuckle softly at his awkward tone, shifting to the side and letting one of your eyes pop open to glance at him.
“My victory,” you state matter-of-factly before quickly shifting to your other side, facing away from him just to let a satisfied grin creep onto your face.
You don’t witness it, but his expression goes from tense, to disconcerted, to irritated in a matter of seconds. His eyes roll, and you suddenly feel a flat slap against your ass.
“Woah there, hey!” you gasp, followed by a cheeky giggle. Your head turns to face him from your comfortable position, and you catch him mirroring your grin.
“Quiet, now,” he commands softly, pivoting to lie beside you. His arm comes over your waist, pulling you into his chest. “Bet’s over, darling. I’m sorry to say, but you’ve not proven yourself capable. Shame, really.”
You blow a raspberry through your smile and shimmy closer to him, your body melting perfectly into his— a fact that has you near to falling asleep.
“Shame indeed. The look on your face was priceless when you ate dirt,” you shrug nonchalantly, “At least that’s the version I’ll be telling everyone come morning.”
He scoffs, the low rumble of it vibrating against your back, but his arm only tightens around you. You feel his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.
“If you do that, I might just have to kill you,” he mutters, but despite the intensity of the words, his voice is soft and loving against your head. His hand drifts to your belly, fingers tracing lazy circles against the soft skin there.
“You would never.”
He’s silent for a beat. Your lips open to build on your clever retort before you feel his sharp exhale on your neck.
“Sleep, darling,” he reprimands, squeezing your midriff gently.
You sigh contentedly, your lips brushing against the pillow as you settle deeper into his embrace. The tent is cocooned in warmth, but you feel the cool kiss of the evening breeze filtering in through the small opening at the entrance. Outside, the campfire crackles faintly, the last embers glowing like distant stars before fading into fine ash.
As you drift closer to sleep, wrapped in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the world around you blurs into the peaceful haze of near-dreams.
Just as the veil of slumber begins to pull you under, you feel his lips press against your hair, a soft whisper brushing against your skin.
“As long as I'll live, I never could.”
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pomefioredove · 7 months ago
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having a crush on you
summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms
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𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭
don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy
he's slowly losing his mind about this
"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind
it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this
hasn't even really thought about it
so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance
and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell
he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"
(maybe a little too well)
but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed
he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs
so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it
in his head
and then does nothing about it for months
...what? he's busy
things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling
well... it doesn't pass
he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt
and you know what?
he is totally cool about it.
just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards
he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up
which again, just makes him crazy
(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)
I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!
there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate
is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...
the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad
he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him
and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves
just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one
(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)
while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you
you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping
you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!
your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...
𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭
contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it
he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always
but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone
the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else
when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself
why?
he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known
he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all
for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break
(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)
is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.
this is Rook we're talking about
on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute
he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling
seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...
definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room
along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over
(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)
you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often
or a few cans of tuna for Grim
all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference
except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day
Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling
though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy
Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey
and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you
he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard
𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫
first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much
second of all he's going to beg for a chance
maybe not in that exact order
Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal
not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy
suddenly he cares about looking nice
(much to Vil's approval)
and now he wants to do nice things for you?
he's gonna bite you
how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!
don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!
then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.
he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship
...yeah, right? right.
if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...
he might be okay with it!
obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you
starts making comments about how tough practice was on him
will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again
he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)
obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling
(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)
but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess
super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way
2K notes · View notes
ellecdc · 8 months ago
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hi!!!!
id love to see a poly!marauders where the reader is muggle born or atlest muggle raised , reader and remus just bond over muggle stuff while the others sit there all confused asking wtf they’re talking about
like music, technology, maybe certain foods, certain slang and books the wizard world doesn’t have.
(ps i love ur blog and everything you write plz keep it up❤️)
hahaha awe so cute - here's a sweet little scene, and thanks for your request <33
poly!marauders x gn!reader who is muggle born
James was not too proud to admit he was rather upset.
And by upset, he meant jealous, terribly jealous. And desperate, so unbelievably desperate. And also sort of pissed off.
The cause of such upset, you might wonder?
Oh, only one of his own sodding boyfriends, of course.
You see, it had been his idea to start chatting with you in order to see where things could go - you know, romantically - between the four of you.
Sirius was eager - which would seem very out of character for the notoriously territorial and stand-offish Black who was wary of anyone interfering with their already established dynamic - but Sirius was equally as enamoured with you as James was from your shared classes and your few interactions around the castle.
Of course - as would be expected - it was Moony that the two of them had to persuade to consider you in earnest. 
“Come on, Moons. Don’t tell me you’re worried that you won’t be the smartest one in the relationship anymore.” Sirius had teased, earning him a glare from the werewolf. 
But of course, James (and Sirius) had been right, and Remus was practically immediately taken with you after James had officially introduced you to his boyfriends at a Gryffindor party. 
It was perhaps very helpful that you happened to be muggle born seeing as Remus had a muggle parent himself, so he was able to bond with you over various muggle things.
And James thought that was wonderful! Truly!
Really.
He honestly did.
But...well, did you guys have to talk about it all of the time!?
And it’s not that James didn’t like you talking about muggle things, or that he didn’t like muggle things in general.
What he didn’t like was that he couldn’t participate in the conversation at all.
And James is sorry, but what in the buggering fuck was a ‘vee sea are’?
James tuned back into the conversation when he began recognizing some of the words you and Remus were saying, though Sirius looked no less confused than he had previously.
“My favourite is probably The Sound of Music.” You admitted somewhat bashfully, features painted with a shy smile as you looked at Remus through your eyelashes.
James didn’t know what you were so shy about, especially considering Remus was beaming at you in response. “Me too!” He agreed readily.
“I love the sound of music!” James chimed in readily, earning him a surprise look from you, a curious look from Remus, and a bemused look from Sirius. 
“Do you really?” You asked sweetly, offering him a hopeful smile.
“I didn’t know you’d ever heard of it.” Remus added quietly.
James scoffed. “Oh, come off it Moons. Of course I love the sound of music! It’s arguably one of my favourite sounds ever!” 
“Awe.” You said sympathetically as Remus barked a laugh.
James looked at the two of you in confusion before he turned to Sirius in hopes for an answer. 
“I don’t know how Prongsie, seeing as they never really asked a question.” Sirius started, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh and squeezing gently, “But I think you got the answer wrong.”
James harrumphed and fell back into his chair, feeling thoroughly dejected. 
“I’m sorry Jamie.” You apologized, looking particularly distraught at having caused James any grief. “We can talk about something else, if you’d like.”
James waved you off quickly. “No, no. I’m sorry, sweets. It doesn’t matter to me what you talk about, as long as I get to continue hearing the sound of your lovely voice, arguably my second favourite sound ever.” 
James may not know what sounds of music you had been talking about, but he was proud that he did know how to make you blush something fierce with nothing but a few simple words. 
1K notes · View notes
yoonia · 2 months ago
Text
blooming wallflowers (m) | knj
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⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again
⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader  ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation.  ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading!  ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia
⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints
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⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission  ⟶ Read on AO3 ⟶ Short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie
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On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together. 
But today is not one of those days. 
“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands. 
“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.” 
Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started. 
“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.  
“I am not!” 
“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.” 
Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!” 
Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry. 
Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it. 
Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter. 
You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute. 
Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now. 
Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something. 
She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon. 
“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them. 
You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries. 
For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things. 
“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—” 
Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn. 
“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry. 
Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to. 
Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.
“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment. 
“Hi there, do you need any help?” 
“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.” 
“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.” 
Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.” 
All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked. 
Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.” 
“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?” 
Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl. 
“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer. 
“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight. 
As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.” 
A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.” 
“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.” 
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Find the beauty in the chaos. 
You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time. 
Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane. 
You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead. 
Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe. 
Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened. 
While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend. 
And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says. 
It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him. 
“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.” 
And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other. 
“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother. 
“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.” 
Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.” 
Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding. 
Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.” 
“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.” 
You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour. 
Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than. 
The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.” 
Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.” 
Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”
The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.” 
“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both. 
Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.” 
Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head. 
Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real? 
“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders. 
No, none of it involves you. 
Maybe. 
You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.” 
You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave. 
Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.” 
You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car. 
Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye. 
“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter. 
“Yes, um. You too.” 
Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls. 
“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.
“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.
“I’ll see you girls around!” 
Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving. 
Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon. 
Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all. 
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There is truly no beauty in this chaos. 
Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.
It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse. 
But, of course, it eventually did. 
Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.
Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now. 
But must it happen when you are inside it?
The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own. 
Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself. 
You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm. 
At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself. 
It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together. 
You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt. 
“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation. 
You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space. 
“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little. 
“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond. 
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator. 
It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away. 
Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in. 
Is the building really burning? 
Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?
What happens if help doesn’t come? 
What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—
You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope. 
Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—
A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.
"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way. 
"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”
"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."
You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.” 
Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall. 
Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.  
"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."
Safe. 
The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside. 
More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.
One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?” 
Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn. 
"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."
You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.
"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."
Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold. 
With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak. 
“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met. 
“I told you we’d meet again soon.”  
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“Is this really necessary?” 
You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem. 
Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere. 
Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office. 
“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.” 
“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?” 
The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still. 
Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by. 
“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.” 
The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—” 
His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.
Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.
“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.” 
Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.” 
He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.” 
You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.” 
“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?” 
“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.” 
At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.” 
For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?” 
You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.” 
With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side. 
“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?” 
You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”
“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.” 
You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.” 
“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.” 
As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next. 
“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest. 
“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.” 
You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing. 
“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.  
“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”  
You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.” 
You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again. 
And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself. 
“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.” 
Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency. 
Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye. 
Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.” 
Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.” 
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It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city. 
The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender. 
“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders. 
Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.” 
“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh. 
“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.” 
“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.” 
Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down. 
Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.  
Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive. 
He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more. 
He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled. 
He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago. 
It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away. 
Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—
He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so. 
“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.” 
Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.” 
Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.” 
Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.” 
“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink. 
Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild. 
“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?” 
“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.” 
As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time. 
“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink. 
“Sure. Anything.” 
“Do you believe in fate?” 
Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?” 
Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home. 
“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.” 
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“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks. 
“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts, 
“To friendship.” 
Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?” 
“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.” 
Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?” 
“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home. 
“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.” 
Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.” 
Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.  
The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage. 
Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel.  It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it. 
“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side. 
“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter. 
You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.
“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at. 
You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.” 
Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.  
“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.” 
Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence. 
“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows. 
You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself. 
As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”
Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.” 
“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over. 
“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”
Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips. 
“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”
“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?” 
“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”
Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.” 
 “Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this. 
You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender. 
“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going. 
The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone. 
Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing. 
You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it. 
Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years. 
As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all. 
Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—
Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name. 
“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach. 
“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?” 
“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.” 
Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them. 
“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon. 
“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.” 
You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.” 
Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?” 
“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?” 
You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes. 
Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink. 
It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night. 
Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night. 
Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.” 
“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?” 
You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once. 
“I think I’m going to stay.” 
Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.” 
You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame. 
“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.  
“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?” 
The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”
“Surprise me.” 
Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.” 
“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?” 
Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”
You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree. 
“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing. 
“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”
He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”
You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”
He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him. 
The look which shows a different kind of want.
And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more. 
It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right? 
Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it. 
But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance. 
Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,
“Do you want to get out of here?” 
Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to. 
“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse. 
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“Your place, or mine?”
A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer. 
You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?” 
Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his. 
“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him. 
“No, they’re at my parents.” 
A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?” 
You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.” 
Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this. 
In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come. 
He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless. 
“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh. 
Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home. 
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In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips. 
He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer. 
“Of course.” 
“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you. 
“Since the fire alert?” 
“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.” 
Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls. 
No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates. 
“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.” 
Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?” 
With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—” 
You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?” 
Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—” 
Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.” 
You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you. 
As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it. 
Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life. 
“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.” 
Namjoon laughs. “What—?” 
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss. 
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“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—” 
It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once. 
“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home. 
As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see. 
Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air. 
Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home. 
Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.  
Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you. 
He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss. 
For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss
Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue. 
He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours. 
The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his. 
Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.  
Tonight is going to be a good night.
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As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door. 
It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer. 
You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot? 
Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way. 
Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does. 
As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from. 
It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions. 
While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste. 
You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards. 
Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.
Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night. 
He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”
Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms. 
A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles. 
You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt. 
His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso. 
It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you. 
You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more. 
Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp. 
“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him. 
“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”  
He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time. 
You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look. 
“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you. 
Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly. 
The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand. 
Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 
You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath. 
“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.” 
Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.” 
“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach. 
“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control. 
He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead. 
With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs. 
Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.” 
He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin. 
Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings. 
Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself. 
Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?” 
“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.” 
At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders. 
Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more. 
Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him. 
Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss. 
His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making. 
In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom. 
His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment. 
Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth. 
Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release. 
“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm. 
Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release. 
“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.” 
“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles. 
“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him. 
Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.” 
Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you. 
It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you. 
As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further. 
Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness. 
Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs. 
“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?” 
Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body. 
Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure. 
With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them. 
Dear God, help me. 
You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind. 
Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place. 
“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.  
“Everything okay?” 
You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.” 
Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.” 
Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.” 
His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.  
“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.” 
You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom. 
Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed. 
Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees. 
Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you. 
Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow. 
An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own. 
Desperation. 
Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel. 
Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done. 
Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name. 
His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you. 
Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs. 
You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds. 
His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure. 
With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core. 
With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other. 
It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body. 
Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high. 
Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.” 
His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry. 
You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss. 
Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth. 
This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm. 
With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. 
Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance. 
“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.” 
He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed. 
The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again. 
You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze. 
He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath. 
“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.” 
You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit. 
Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over. 
“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.
His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late. 
The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.
“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.   
“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away. 
His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?” 
“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.” 
The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?” 
He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position. 
Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time. 
You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough. 
As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you. 
His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core. 
Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly. 
You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips. 
A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent. 
“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size. 
Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts. 
“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free. 
Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now. 
These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure. 
“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.” 
Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers. 
With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it. 
Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin. 
Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns. 
“You’ve already came too many times, so—” 
Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.” 
Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod. 
Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.
“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow. 
Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other. 
Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy. 
“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still. 
Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you. 
“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core. 
“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.” 
With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop. 
“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body. 
It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies. 
It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking. 
“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat. 
You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste. 
He’s close. 
“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.
“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build. 
His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge. 
A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm. 
Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 
The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt. 
Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent. 
“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder. 
“Hmm…yes, it was…” 
A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say. 
Incredible. Astounding. 
“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 
You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him. 
Stay the night. 
The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon. 
“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes. 
“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?” 
“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?” 
Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more. 
You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin. 
You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time. 
Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.” 
Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.” 
You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?” 
His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.” 
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Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines.  Update | you can read more in the short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie
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— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.
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cheapshrimpysheep · 11 months ago
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Hiii congrats on 1k followers!! I've really liked your writing for a while, it's so lovely to read <3 I hope you don't mind me requesting something, if it's okay :D
What if the reader also has a tsum? Then their tsum and the tsum of the person they like keep giving signs that they like each other, like for example Riddle tsum is very affectionate to the reader, but they don't want to admit it and get flustered. If that's okay, can I request that with Riddle, Azul, Jamil, and Silver?
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COMMENTS: Hi! Thank you. I'm so glad you enjoy it. 😊
I really liked your idea a lot. I was even excited to write it. I know that on the Japanese server there was already a second event with Azultsum, but I didn't see anything about the story, I only read the vignette of Azul's card to have an idea of what to write. I still have a little difficulty writing for Silver, but I try my best to understand him.
I hope you and all enjoy it 🩵
CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts; Azul Ashengrotto; Jamil Viper & Silver
TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader
WORD COUNT: An average of 450 words per character.
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With your Tsum in your arms, you find Ace and Deuce, leaning over with their hands on their knees as if they were catching their breath after a run. They look at you first, but quickly the cute little creature you hold in your arms catches their attention. They both have that look on their faces like they think it's the cutest and most beautiful little thing in the world but don't want to admit it.
They say that Riddle also has one of those and he was the one they were chasing and trying to catch, but they lost it. The moment they said Riddle’s name, you felt your Tsum move enthusiastically for a moment.
They hear something, when they look they see Riddletsum in the distance and run towards it, starting the chase again. Your Tsum jumps out of your arms and runs with them, which makes you run after them too.
Your Tsum passes Ace and Deuce, which surprises them because they were so fast, and throws itself at Riddletsum, rolling together for a few seconds until they both stop. When this happened, Riddletsum didn't run away again, and the two were rubbing each other's cheeks happily.
Ace grabbed Riddletsum while it was distracted. It seemed upset about being caught. But the moment Deuce grabbed your Tsum, Riddletsum jumped out of Ace's arms, hits him in the face and threw itself right in Deuce's face to make him release your Tsum. Once back on the ground, Riddletsum positioned itself between your Tsum and those two. Glaring threateningly at Ace and Deuce.
You were the only one who could carry your Tsum without Riddletsum getting jealous. And after that, they would keep your two Tsums together to prevent Riddletsum from running away again or causing trouble. Or hurt someone else.
Whenever Riddle sees the Tsums being all lovey-dovey with each other, he will blush, and try to hide it. He won't comment on it unless you comment first. If you tell him they're cute, he'll shyly agree.
“You know, they remind me of the hedgehogs in a way.” Riddle says “I can't deny that I think it's cute whenever I see them rubbing their noses against each other.”
And as soon as the Tsums hear him say that, they rub their little round noses against each other. Which makes Riddle blush even more.
If at any point you pick up Riddletsum, it will look at you with a huge sparkle in its eyes as if you were the most wonderful person he has ever seen in its life. And freeze looking at you.
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You went to Mostro Lounge with your Tsum because you heard that Azul also had one, and you thought maybe you could help each other take care of them. Which in itself is already a deal. You help me, I help you.
Little did you know that the place was full of customers, and much more than usual. When you arrive at the entrance, there is a line of customers still waiting to enter. You comment to your Tsum that perhaps it would be better for you two to give up on the idea of meeting Azul, at least at that moment, he must be too busy.
Your Tsum starts struggling in your arms until it manages to escape them and run into the Mostro Lounge, passing by the feet of all those customers. You try to run after it, but a hand grabs you on your arm shortly after you pass the entrance.
“HEY! What do you think you're doing jumping the queue?” A Savanaclaw student asked you aggressively.
“Probably exercising their right as VIP customers.” Azul says, in that politely threatening way. “And I suggest you let them go if you don't want to be permanently kicked out of the Mostro Lounge.” The student let go of you. And Azul sees you rubbing the area where he had grabbed you, as if you had been hurt. “An apology would also be polite.” The Savanaclaw student is reluctant out of pride. “You know, I'm not a big fan of doing business with rude customers. And this clause is usually part of my contracts. It's a shame that a lot of people don't read them in full, you know.” Azul smirks.
The student suddenly looks worried, and apologizes to you and promises that it won't happen again.
Once this problem is resolved, Azul greets you with that charming smile of his and asks what he owes for your pleasant visit? Were you there to see Azul Tsum too? You answer yes and tell him about your Tsum and what happened.
And then you start to hear a different kind of commuting in one part of the café. In the middle of the "Aw"s, you also hear phrases like “Double the cuteness.” and “They look even cuter together.”
Azul and you try to get closer to the place that is receiving all the attention, but it appears to be moving. And towards the VIP room. You arrive at the VIP Room door and only see the door closing, as if someone had just entered. Azul opens the door and you go in with him.
You see your two Tsums on one of the sofas. When Azul Tsum realizes that it was you two who entered, it relaxes and starts to cuddle and snuggle with your Tsum as if spoiling it with love and care. Azul automatically blushes.
From then on, Azultsum won't let go of your Tsum! It practically forgot the customers and only had eyes and gifts for your Tsum. As if it were Azultsum's most valuable treasure.
If at any point you pick up Azultsum, it will first look at you with a big shine in its eyes and then it will come close to your face to caress you.
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You went to Scarabia with your Tsum because you heard that Jamil also had one, and you thought maybe you could help each other take care of them. But you didn't know where exactly they were. At least not until you hear Kalim apologizing to someone and saying he wasn't going to do something.
You arrive at the lounge with your Tsum in your arms, and you see Kalim apologizing to Jamiltsum while Jamil enjoys the scene.
“Not even if it has half the animals?” Kalim asks. Jamiltsum jumps up and hits him on the arm. “AH! Fine, fine! No parades this week...” He looked a little disappointed but Jamil was smiling.
Some students who enjoyed Kalim's parades began to comment about being disappointed too. Jamiltsum turned towards them with a threatening aura, which scared them. However, it seemed more stressed than upset.
You feel your Tsum jump out of your arms and see it running towards them. It stops near them and makes a cute little noise as if it is greeting them and to get their attention. Jamil looks at your Tsum with a twinkle in his eyes, like someone who thinks it's cute in a way he doesn't want to admit. Now Kalim...
“OH Great Seven! It's a (Y/N)tsum!” He crouches down to get closer to your Tsum “You're so cuteee! This definitely deserves a party!” POW! Jamiltsum throws itself at Kalim again, this time making him lose his balance and fall.
When it lands in front of your Tsum, it looks upset, but as soon as it looks at your Tsum, it freezes with amazement in its eyes. Your Tsum starts snuggling against it, and Jamiltsum reciprocated by cuddling it back.
A student comments that they look cute together, that they even seem in love with each other. Because of this, both Jamil and Jamiltsum blush. Jamil pulls his hood to hide his face, while Jamiltsum curls up, and your Tsum gets even closer to it, both because it thinks it's cute and to try to help it hide.
When your Tsum is around, Jamiltsum is more easily flattered. Jamiltsum won't let go of your Tsum either. Like Jamil it acts like a bodyguard, and that's exactly what it does with your Tsum. To the point where you start to doubt whether it's really Jamiltsum being overprotective or just jealous whenever someone approaches and starts saying how cute your Tsum is.
If at any point you pick up Jamiltsum, it will first look at you with a big shine in its eyes, but then it’s little face will get all red, and it’ll curl up trying to hide it.
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You were passing through the Courtyard with your Tsum in your arms, when you see a larger than normal amount of birds and squirrels in a particular tree. You get closer and see Silver sleeping against the tree with a Silvertsum in his arms, also sleeping.
You feel your Tsum moving and jumping out of your arms. It approaches them and climbs into Silver's lap to get closer to Silvertsum, which wakes Silver up. He looks at his lap and sees your Tsum looking at him and smiling with its eyes. He smiled, that rare sweet prince charming smile of his.
“Hello little one. It's good to meet you.” He caressed your Tsum's cheek with his finger. “You are as beautiful as (Y/N).”
You make noise through the grass and bushes as you approach them. Silver looks at you in surprise, and blushes slightly at the thought that you could have heard what he had just said. And meanwhile, your Tsum catches up with Silvertsum who jumps off Silver's lap because it woke up with a start.
Silvertsum landed in a defensive position and with a threatening expression, as if its first instinct was to assume its position as a guard during an attack. But soon after it sees your Tsum and has a serene expression again.
Your Tsum is the one who approaches first and starts cuddling with the other. Silvertsum quickly reciprocates with its eyes closed as if they were both smiling. The birdsong becomes louder around you, but it is still a beautiful song.
“They seem to like each other a lot.” He comments, now with his usual neutral face. “Do you think it means something?”
You probably felt like doing a face palm, and the same seemed to have happened with your Tsum. It suddenly took a big jump into Silver's arms and climbed up to his face to caress his cheek. While Silvertsum remained serenely on the ground.
Silver chuckles and smile. “So you like me too?” he asks your Tsum, who nods with it's little body.
And to your surprise, Silvertsum also jumps into your arms. It will try to get closer to your face but it won't move very far, as if it wanted your permission to move forward. If you push it close to your face it will rub its little nose against yours.
Be careful, because Silvertsum easily falls asleep in your arms as it is so comfortable in them.
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If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
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wordstome · 1 year ago
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COD Men as Dream Daddy DILFs
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Call of Duty single dads x gn!single parent reader
⤐Characters: 141 + König + Horangi + Keegan
⤐Premise: You just moved into a neighborhood with a high population of retired military personnel.
*glances at my 3-4 wips* let's talk about some dilfs, shall we? ...Don't look at me. I had a vision. (No relation to the actual characters from Dream Daddy, just a similar premise) Also a disclaimer: I'm writing these dads mostly in their late 30s to 40s, but don't think about their ages and the ages of their kids too much. This is all vibes. And sorry ahead of time if I gave one of the kids the same name as you 💀 Feel free to imagine the kid has a different name because the names really don't matter
p.s. I wanted to write more characters but I had to reel myself in. I could be persuaded to write a part 2 with Vaqueros, Nikolai, Valeria, Nikto, and other Ghosts tbh
Warning: this shit is LENGTHY. Strap yourself in.
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Price: A post about DILFs and you expect me not to start with Captain John Price? Price is the lynchpin of this cul de sac. He's the one inviting everyone over to the barbecue, tries to get the dads to get along, and gives everyone advice. He has the quintessential dad energy. He 100% slaps his knees and says "well!" when he gets up. Price also has major girl dad energy. He's got three adorable little ladies, aged 3 (Clara), 9 (Brianna), and 11 (Alice). Yes, he did name his daughters in ABC order, I can see him doing that. Oh, he dotes on his girls, and they love their dad endlessly. He's the model father: recitals, sports, parent teacher conferences, you name it, he's there.
That's how the two of you meet: he comes up to you at one of the aforementioned events and gives you a firm handshake and apologizes profusely for not coming around to introduce himself earlier. It's not like him not to at least swing by, and he hopes you can forgive him the discourtesy. He hands you his number and says anything you need, just give him a call, or maybe swing by for a beer sometime. He gives you a wink that makes your knees weak, a wink that says he definitely noticed you checking out his muscled arms and broad shoulders. Maybe you will swing by for that beer sometime—and maybe get a little more than just a drink.
Ghost: I could see Simon having a one night stand kid. He certainly never saw himself starting a family after he lost his last one, but he was stressed and probably piss drunk as well. Years and years later, he's back from deployment and finds a social worker with a boy on his doorstep, and the rest is history. I love the idea of Simon with a moody 16 year old, but I actually see Simon and his son having the same dynamic as Mike and Abby Schmidt from the FNAF movie. Since Simon wasn't around for Caden's early childhood, they have a relationship that's undeniably father and son, but leaning towards casual and sibling-like. Simon's figuring his shit out, dealing with his PTSD and the various lasting health issues his time in special forces has left him with, and Caden's a quiet, sensitive 10 year old boy who thinks the world of his dad.
You meet Simon at the local bar. His Ghost days are long behind him, but the balaclava's a hard habit to kick. Besides, he doesn't need people staring at his scars. He's usually there with the 141, but today he's alone, and looks like he could use some company. You sit up at the bar close to him and order a drink, but you don't disturb him, and he visibly relaxes when he realizes you're not going to try to make small talk. It becomes a routine, the two of you: always sharing a quiet drink together at the bar, and then both of you wordlessly go home to your kids. You have a sort of silent conversation every time: Good to see you again. Yeah, you too. Neither of you actually speak a word to the other until Price introduces you to him at a gathering, and you finally hear his voice. "We've met before," he says, with a glint in his eye that suggests perhaps he'd like to be more than just a silent drinking buddy. That's fine with you: you're dying to see what's under the mask and dark hoodie.
Soap: JOCK ALERT. Johnny's basically Craig from Dream Daddy: total dreamboat who goes on runs around the neighborhood and gets all the appreciative looks from the local moms. He thrives on the attention in a way that definitely makes the 141 roll their eyes. He's got an older little girl named Elodie, and a lil baby boy Thomas that he takes everywhere with him. Obviously he's just being a responsible parent taking care of an infant, but secretly, Thomas is a great conversation starter with aforementioned local moms.
Conversely however, it's Johnny who makes the move on you first. Maybe in the grocery store, maybe at one of Price's get-togethers. Sidles up to you and introduces himself with a look in his eye that means trouble. Only the good kind of trouble, of course. If you reciprocate and he finds out you're single, you're not getting rid of him. But why would you want to, anyway? He's endlessly charming, attentive, and good with his hands. When he's fixing a leaky tap for you, of course—what did you think I meant?
Gaz: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is a fucking heartthrob. I'm saying it right here, right now. He's a walks in with flowers, makes you dinner kind of partner. Also househusband vibes, because, surprise: Kyle is still married. This isn't a Joseph (Dream Daddy) situation, though: he and his wife, Emily, have known each other for a long time, a very high school sweethearts situation. Over the years, though, they drifted apart with Kyle in the military, and Emily eventually realized she's not actually into men. They're still married for coparenting purposes: they've got an older teenage girl named Violet, and a younger boy named Elliott. (Yes, I'm naming him after Elliot Knight, sue me.)
Honestly, I think it would be HILARIOUS if you met Kyle on a dating app and realized he's your next-door neighbor. But however you guys meet, Kyle is an old-school courter kind of guy. He is taking you on dinner dates, listening to you rant about your day, and is on your doorstep in a heartbeat when you call him in a panic because your kid's running a 105 fever (41 in Celsius) and you need a ride to the emergency room. (Not that the other dads wouldn't do the same, but I'm trying to convey "most reliable man in the world" vibes here.)
König: Y'all...you don't know how much fucken time I've spent thinking about this man as a dad. He's in the same boat as Ghost where he never saw himself living long enough to start a family, but here he is with the most precious little girl you've ever laid eyes on. Ava's got her father's curly hair and big green eyes, and she has her dad wrapped around her pinky finger. For König, Ava is living proof that he's capable of being more than just a tool for violence.
You meet König through Ava, of course. Your kids are the closest of friends, and the two of them are constantly going over to each other's houses. You're obviously delighted that your kid is making new friends and fitting in so well, but you'd be lying if your heart didn't skip a beat whenever you open your door to see Ava's six foot ten dad standing there with soft eyes and a sheepish smile. I have to stop here, because I've already written an extra paragraph for this man that I've cut out and pasted for safekeeping in my notes app, and if encouraged I will write more. (Please encourage me.)
Horangi: I know we already had a sort of Robert (Dream Daddy) figure with Ghost, but I think Horangi is a dad whose kid is an adult, much like Robert and Val. I also think that out of all the dads, Horangi is likely the one who's still doing some level of military work. Either that, or he has a very demanding job that takes up a lot of his time. He's ashamed of the way he let his gambling affect his family in the past, and is making up for it by being responsible and keeping his finances in order.
You don't meet him until you've lived in the neighborhood for quite a while, but he pops up at a gathering, talking quietly with König in a corner. You'd thought you had met every neighbor in the cul de sac, so you're intrigued by the newcomer. Someone, probably Price, tells you what Hong-jin's deal is, and ever since that you just can't keep your eyes off of him. You can't quite work up the nerve to talk to him, so you occupy yourself talking with the other parents. Some time later, you're at the food table grazing on the snacks when you look up and make eye contact with him. There's something intense in his gaze that makes you freeze, like a deer in headlights. He's definitely checking you out, you think. Your chest erupts into nervous butterflies when he starts walking towards you.
Keegan: Keegan is an adoptive father! I love his dynamic with the Walker boys, so I can see him being the kind of guy who adopts an older teenager so they have a home and a family instead of aging out of the system. Jason and Cecelia are high school age siblings who would have been separated otherwise, and consider Keegan their dad in every way that's important.
I think you and Keegan are definitely rivals in some way. Maybe it's a PTO thing, maybe he gets a little too boisterous at your kids' sports game. Whatever it is, you can't stand the man, but your annoyance whenever he's around only seems to amuse him. You have no problem saying to his face exactly what you think about him, but unfortunately, Keegan can see right through you. And hey, Cecelia could use some experience as a babysitter, so you won't have to worry about spending the night over at his place, will you?
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As always, I wanna hear peoples' thoughts and feedback! If you want to hear more about these dads, drop me an ask <3
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i23kazu · 1 year ago
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♡ GENSHIN MEN & STUDYING WITH YOU
characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley lyney alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. i need motivation. they are my motivation | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
xiao
he's the one who's a all the noise-cancellation, blacklisted apps kind of student. everything is on lockdown and on do not disturb mode – please don't disturb him. poke him with your pen and you'll just see him roll his eyes at you– no, seriously- it's not worth it! however, xiao is also a really good student ; always on task, even on the subjects that he absolutely despises. ask him to tutor you and he might grumble and groan, but what happens when the tutor falls in love with his student?
diluc
possibly the class rep. studying with him is a express ticket to resources that teachers had given him because of his high-class status. he's not proud of it – he believes that each student deserves the chance to have the same access as him – which is why he's willing to share it with you as well. we didn't even have to meet up, you could just have sent it over- you whine, but the tinge of crimson on his cheeks is a telltale sign that perhaps he needed- no, wanted, this excuse.
kaeya
the teasy study buddy. watch him annoy the hell out of you– you know he's teasing, but sometimes it hurts. "haha, i thought i taught you this already? does the little bunny not have enough space in there?" he taps your head with his pen. it's only when your face crumples and you start to mumble out apologies, teardrops cockling your paper – that he panics. "shit- i'm sorry– how can i make it better?" he wipes your tears away. he makes it up with a sweet kiss and a stack of gift cards to your favourite cafes.
childe
he's the friend who keeps you going, truly. if sunshine was bottled up and wrapped with a bow and had an orange cap, it would be childe! watching your face fall after staring at algebra simply won't do, no, no. let him lead you as he tugs on your hands outside of the study room, and just let your feet follow in his footsteps – you'll find yourself outside the library cafe. "alright, it's on me! what do you want?" maybe his wallet is a little lighter, but so is his heart, once he sees your face light up.
wriothesley
wriothesley is the one who has it all planned out. first, you'll start studying at 10pm... which is a little late, but it's alright. you'll get tired around midnight, which will be when he offers you the first cup of chamomile. "won't this put me to sleep?" you whine, accepting it from him anyways. he chuckles and runs his hands through your hair, replying that it's never worked on him. true enough, you start getting sleepy around half past one – finally leaning against his shoulder, your arms going slack. kissing your head, he drapes a blanket around you. good night, (y/n).
lyney
the one who sits besides you, cracking jokes every now and then! but when it's time to study, he can buckle down and start doing work –that's just lyney – the human on and off switch. there's something about him doing work while twirling his poker cards in his hands that's just so mesmerising – a stare too long catches his eye, and he starts doing a trick for you. get back to work!, you laugh and playfully swat his shoulder, turning back to your own paper. he chuckles in return, and unbeknownst to you, turns back with a smile.
alhaitham
alhaitham can be stricter as a study buddy – he's stern with distractions, wanting you to keep your phone to the side as he's explaining concepts – yes, concepts you learnt, but never understood. "hey, eyes here. did you understand, or do i need to go through it again?" he sounds bored, and you feel sorry for him. you mumble a soft i understand back, and he sighs and tells you to take a break. "look up." your eyes trail up from your phone, and instinctively close as he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)
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uyuforu · 6 months ago
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Composite Observations II
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It's been a while since I made some Composite posts! So I have decided to make some more. This one will be based on mine with my FS, I really like it not gonna lie haha. This post can also be taken as Davison or Progressed Composite observations! Also had some Sugar Sugar Rune pictures for this post and used to love this manga when I was young! Also funny thing but I realized Chocolat and Pierre (both main characters of the story) are the same sun signs as me and my FS ;-; One of the first manga I read and watched. I listened to the opening OST while writing this post lmao, i'm so nostalgic. This observation is only for romantic composite!!
All pictures are from Pinterest.
Other posts you could like:
જ⁀➴ Composite Observation I
જ⁀➴ Synastry & Composite with In-Laws I
જ⁀➴ Lunar Return Observations II
Book a private reading: menus ; Q&A ; rules ; instagram
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✮⋆˙ Libra/ 7°/ 19° Rising means the couple will look good together. They look very much in love, and like the it-couple. They are very romantic towards each other too. Couple also look into each other since the start, it was romance since the every first moment. Couple could be very much into PDA.
✮⋆˙ Taurus/ 2°/ 14°/ 26° Rising will also have that it-couple vibe since it's also a sign ruled by Venus. Couple look like they care about they appearance when they are together, but mostly like they care about each other. Couple could also be into PDA. Could also love to shop together and to eat outside.
✮⋆˙ Taurus Sun makes the couple trust each other a lot, and wanting something long term. Couple is very romantic and sensual with each other, like to flirt a lot. They can love to buy each other gifts, and could also love to spend time with each other.
✮⋆˙ 7H Sun makes the couple care the most about each other, they can become the most important person in each other's life very fast. They can also feel like they found the one for them. They could have always seen each other in a serious relationship.
✮⋆˙ North Node conjunct Rising could mean their meeting was destined and they are meant to be in each other's life.
✮⋆˙ 1H Ruler in 2H can mean people view you as a couple who has money, you could look good and always presentable. You could see yourself that way too, and you could also think you look like an it-couple.
✮⋆˙ Aries DSC can be a sign of marrying fast, or things going fast between you two when you get together.
✮⋆˙ Juno 1H could be a sign of love at first sight, or finding each other very attractive physically. It can also be falling in love very fast with each other.
✮⋆˙ Venus conjunct Pluto is a sign of a very passionate relationship. The couple could want to have some steamy times all the times and being physically close to each other could be a need at some point. Love is intense but slightly toxic at some point.
✮⋆˙ Venus 2H is a sign of long term love, this couple can grow long term and stronger with time in this house. This placement can suggest the couple can make money together and work together. They can love to know what the other one loves and their tastes. They wanna know everything of the other one. Love languages can be gifts giving, physical touches and quality time.
✮⋆˙ 2H Ruler in 2H means money will take a big place in this relationship! The couple could gain a lot of money after marriage or while being together. They could also love to buy each other gifts.
✮⋆˙ Pluto 2H means the way the couples look at possessions and money will change once they meet and even get together. It can also means their money status can change when being together. Perhaps they can gain more while being together.
✮⋆˙ Mars 3H makes the couple have real conversations and find each other's mind very stimulating. A lot of flirting too.
✮⋆˙ Venus conjunct Mars could mean the couple love to show their love in their most intimates moment, and it can also mean to be very compatible in the heated moments. Very passionate love.
✮⋆˙ Mars conjunct Pluto could make the relationship vert intense, and more physically. The physical attraction is over the roof.
✮⋆˙ Sagittarius Venus means the couple could love to teach the other one some new things, couple could love to learn new things together. Couple could be from two different cultures and love to learn from each other. Couples could be very spontaneous too.
✮⋆˙ Sagittarius Mars means they can be more curious when being together, and more open minded too. The couple could be more optimistic when being together too. Like to hear the other's point of view too.
✮⋆˙ Scorpio Juno makes their relationship very possessive and obsessive over each other. They can often stalk the other person online and think of them all the time. Very intense and passionate but also very obsessive and slightly toxic.
✮⋆˙ Neptune 3H is a sign of giving each other love letters, wiring beautiful love declarations and perhaps even being each other's muse.
✮⋆˙ 3H Ruler in 4H could mean the way they communicate could be very soft, and very nice, they don't usually scream at each other. They are very nice to each other. They could speak about family and children often. The idea of having a family could be often discussed.
✮⋆˙ Jupiter 4H makes the couple happy to be together, they will feel more happy and lucky once they move in together and create their family. Both feel like they will be able to bloom in this relationship. A huge sign of long term love.
✮⋆˙ 6H Ruler in 3H means one of the challenge of this relationships is to communicate, perhaps communication can be hard sometimes and it can create some problems. Their lesson is to communicate properly to make their relationship work.
✮⋆˙ 8H Ruler in 2H could mean this couple will own a lot of possession and gain a lot of money together. They could also be very private about their possession, not the type to show off.
✮⋆˙ 9H Ruler in 7H could mean this couple will often travel together, during their marriage and traveling, going on adventures are something they will always do and love to do together.
✮⋆˙ 10H Ruler in 7H means this couple's has high chance to get married. Since there is a 7H stellium, this could mean this couple could be meant to indeed get married. This couple could also work together.
✮⋆˙ 11H Ruler in 7H could mean this couple is best friend as the same time to be lovers.
✮⋆˙ North Node Libra makes the couple's purpose to understand how to have a healthy and balanced relationship. The ying and yang energies need to be balanced and perhaps both people need to tune into their own energy. This can also be a sign of being destined to be in a romantic relationship, none of them will be able to just stay friends (Libra is ruled by Venus).
✮⋆˙ North Node 12H isn't a sign of "meant to break up". Please stop associating the 12H as a bad house. It's indeed a house of endings, but not only, and those endings are good. NN Composite in the 12H to me means more of ending illusions about yourself. The relationship will have a true wake up call and perhaps more on the spiritual side, a deep spiritual awakening.
In my case, I indeed have NN Libra 12H, this can be interpreted as the relationship ending bad cycles in our life in order for us to step into our divine masculine and divine feminine energies. It's very spiritual like.
✮⋆˙ North Node conjunct Chiron is a sign of healing because if the relationship. The couple's destiny is to help each of them heal through their relationship.
And yeah it also has Chiron in that 12H too, I'll talk about it more later, but it's clear that the spiritual awakening.
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✮⋆˙ Uranus 4H means the couple will probably change the idea they had of "home" when they meet or even get together.
When I met my FS, I felt so at home with him that he is what I consider home now. The idea I also had of home & family changed when I met him.
✮⋆˙ Jupiter conjunct Uranus is a sign of having an exciting life together, the relationship can also be very spiritual and this aspect can be a sign of a spiritual awakening indeed.
✮⋆˙ 4H Ruler in 4H is a sign of having a long term relationship. It can also be a sign of wanting to live together and have a family together.
✮⋆˙ 5H Ruler in 4H is a sign this couple will want children together, the ruler being Jupiter can create more chances to have some. This is also a sign of living together being fun.
✮⋆˙ 5H Ruler in 3H could mean this couple could laugh and joke a lot together. Talking is fun, they could have a lot of inside joke together. They could also like to sing together, and express their passion to each other. Serenading could be a thing. Talking about having children too.
✮⋆˙ Saturn 6H is a sign that the couple's routine can make it hard for them to build a relationship or to find time to spend together. Their work and busy schedule can create a true obstacle, yet this will be a challenge the couple will need to face and be careful with.
The challenge here will be to organize a good schedule that will enable the couple to still find time for them in this very busy life!
✮⋆˙ Sun conjunct Mercury means the couple is very intellectual and love to exchange ideas, having conversations is not something the couple lack, and if both partner have strong Mercury or Air signs in their own chart, this will be very pleasing for them.
✮⋆˙ Sun conjunct Moon means a divine union, more if it's in the 7H! It can also be a sign of soulmates or high level soulmates in some cases.
✮⋆˙ Leo MC could make this couple famous, or just well known. This couple is a show off couple, and they could be very expressive towards each other. The kind of couple to be huge on PDA.
✮⋆˙ Part of Fortune 10H is a sign of the couple having more chance to work and build something together. Fame as a couple is possible.
✮⋆˙ POF Leo is another fame sign for the couple! Shining and being seen for sure.
✮⋆˙ Taurus Mercury means the couple is very nice, romantic and soft when they interact with each other, and they may not be aggressive even if they argue. Can often use a sensual and charming voice when they talk to each other.
✮⋆˙ Mercury 7H means the couple can flirt a lot and be very romantic. They can think of dating each other right when they first talk, thinking they could totally be in a relationship together.
✮⋆˙ Taurus Moon means the couple thinks this relationship can be long term and they can often feel romantic feelings for each other. They will wanna make anything out of a date together.
✮⋆˙ Moon 7H will make the couple feel like the company of the other person is what they crave the most, they will want to spend only time together, and it's a sign of deep love and commitment.
✮⋆˙ 7H Ruler in 3H could mean this couple is very romantic to each other and may express it a lot to each other. They can make a lot of love declaration to each other.
✮⋆˙ Boda 7H is another big sign of marrying each other. The wedding will be veryyyyy romantic.
✮⋆˙ Taurus Boda makes the wedding of the couple very beautiful and romantic too, the aesthetic will be beautiful.
✮⋆˙ Boda conjunct Mercury is a sign a proposal will most likely happen in their relationship. The couple can also talk a lot about marriage together, and also the wedding they want.
✮⋆˙ 7H Stellium means the couple can't feel like they don't want to do anything without the other one. They feel like their life without each other is meaningless. It creates a very strong bond and they may want to be with each other until the end. They are two who make one. Even if both people are independent, they will not want to be away from each other.
✮⋆˙ Groom 7H could mean groom is very romantic, and he could be in love with briede. He could want to cuddle a lot and do romantic things for briede the most. Groom will probably talk a lot about marriage and wedding matters. Groom conjunct Mercury, another big sign a proposal is indeed a possibility, and Groom could feel like proposing very fast to Briede.
✮⋆˙ Briede 5H could mean briede is romantic too but could want to do more dates, she could be the one making the dates fun more than romantic. Briede will talk a lot about the relationship and children.
✮⋆˙ Groom Taurus will make groom probably have a lot of money, and groom can possibly also be good looking. Groom will care of his appearance and is a flirty person too. Groom could also want to pay in most of dates and will want to buy a lot of things for briede.
✮⋆˙ Briede Pisces means briede will be soft, emotional, has a big empathy, and perhaps too nice. She can also be quite shy, in her world, but very imaginative. Briede will be very romantic and perhaps will do a lot of love declarations for groom. Briede will want to take care of groom too. Briede may be more spiritual than groom.
✮⋆˙ 9H Ruler being Mercury could be a sign this couple speaks many different languages or just are a foreign couple who speaks two different languages.
✮⋆˙ Chiron Libra can mean the couple had some traumas related to love, relationships and will heal those in this relationship.
✮⋆˙ Chiron 12H means this relationship is very spiritual and indeed the two of them will heal the other's wounds. Yet, there can be time of self-sabotage in the relationship because of those wounds.
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Thank you for reading!
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