#thank you for those final votes

[cuz-reasons]

Summary: Warden Ingo wakes up in a place he doesn't recognize. Subway Boss Ingo wakes up in a place he's only read about. Neither are where they should be.

I come bearing the winner of the winner of that poll I did last week

[daz4i]

NO FUCKING WAY NIKOLAI ACTUALLY WON AJSKFLGLLH

[deus-ex-mona]

✨baller✨ results tbh~

[nicksolemnlyswears]

JUST TEASIN’

summary: you call joel an old man…amongst other names

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 4.4k [i need to learn how to keep things concise]

warnings: 18+, cursing, spanking, p in v, fingering, oral (male receiving), age gap? totally legal though, joel's in his early 40s and reader is in her early 30s, joel is an ass guy which is strange cause i always make my men boob guys, idk i guess this is pretty tame

a/n: as a joke i tend to call pedro and joel peepaw cause he’s older and a total dilf but i love these men so fucking much. i'll be the first to get on my knees

thought i’d make a sweet oneshot about how they’d react to you calling them old. it’s a mix of fluff and smut. a little something for everyone!

also don’t judge me, this is my first time writing for joel 🥺

there’s a little nudge to another favorite fictional men of mine

i want to thank @yxtkiwiyxt for providing me with all the pedro pascal pictures and gifs and movie trailers and for ranting with me all day every day about how amazing this human is… if anyone is to blame about this oneshot it’s her ❤️

It’s one of those lazy Sunday mornings where everyone sleeps in, leaving the Miller household at complete ease. There are no responsibilities to tend to and nowhere to go.

You’re the only one awake, singing quietly under your breath and flipping pancakes until they’re nice and golden. Joel will come seeking you out soon, missing the warmth of your body and Sarah will follow when Joel cracks her door open to let the sweet smell of batter waft into her room.

No matter how hard you try you’re always the first one up. Sometimes you stay in bed with your husband, tracing figures on his bare skin until he pulls you into him and kisses your head good morning, raspy voice begging you for five more minutes.

But most of the time you decide on getting up and having an early start to your day, which includes making breakfast and sorting through your work emails.

The puppy Sarah adopted a couple weeks ago, sits on your feet, licking your legs as if begging for the fluffy sweetness of the pancakes. He had a taste of it when batter dripped on the floor, he licked it up before you had the chance of cleaning it.

Lost in your little world, singing to the tune of Lana del Rey you fail to notice your husband coming down the stairs. Joel leans against the kitchen island admiring you in your distracted state. The loose brown curls in a disarray at the top of his head.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, noting your messy hair pulled up to a half ponytail half bun thing he can’t begin to explain. Down they go to the cropped tshirt with his company’s logo on the back. The frayed edges are the byproduct of your use of kitchen scissors to crop it yourself.

Joel bites his lip as he ogles at your ass and thick thighs framed by the tiniest cotton shorts he’s ever seen. They fail to cover the bottom of your butt cheeks, exposing a sliver of the indigo panties and the crease where thighs meet butt.

Unable to stay away, Joel wraps his warm arms around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. He squeezes you to him, bodies pressed flushed to reveal the stiffness in his pajama pants.

The puppy wags his tail in the presence of his favorite human, standing on two legs to call his attention. The man didn’t want him in the first place but was out voted by the females in the household.

“Morning,” Joel murmurs, placing kisses all over your cheeks and down your neck until he finally presses a warm kiss on your shoulder where he rests his chin to look over at the stovetop.

“Morning old man,” you say with a giggle as his scruffy beard tickles your skin. Your lips press against his in a quick kiss, muffling his sigh of disappointment.

“Don’t start, sweetheart,” he warns. His lips brushing against your ear. Joel’s hands find themselves under your tshirt, his thumbs ghosting over your underboob. At the same time the fingertips of his other hand teasingly dip on the waistband of your shorts.

“Or what?” You say with a bite to your lip, flipping over the last batch of pancakes. Couple more seconds and they would’ve burned—that’s how much he distracts you.

“It’s too early for this!” Sarah’s high pitched voice yells. “Not in the kitchen and not in front of the baby, please!”

The puppy scrambles over to Sarah, jumping into her arms. He recognizes she’s the one who will cave and give him scraps of food.

Joel, startled, takes his hands off of you, facing Sarah with an apologetic smile, not that she sees it as she covers her eyes with a hand. “Are you decent? Can I look now? I’m really hungry if you don’t mind.”

You laugh loudly, shaking your head at Sarah’s dramatics. She takes after Joel and is well on her way to beat him at his own game.

“We’re not doin’ anythin’,” Joel mumbles, sitting on one of the kitchen island stools and petting the pups fluffy head, and the ear that flipped over cutely.

“Not yet,” you whisper to him as you place his stack of pancakes in front of him.

“I heard that!” Sarah yells, covering her ears this time. Joel laughs, nudging her shoulder and telling her to pass the syrup.

You lean across from them, grabbing a sliced strawberry to plop into your mouth. Sarah takes over the conversation as you and Joel share a glance. This is far from over.

Later on the day you head outside with a tray of lemonade and pie in your hands. You’ve gotta take care of your dear husband before the Texas heat gets the best of him.

You nudge Joel’s leg with your foot. He’s under the beat up truck, fixing some odd part. He has the means to replace the old thing but he likes to remind you that ‘Betsy,’ as he’s named his truck, is a part of the family and will never be replaced.

“Thanks, darlin,‘“ he drawls, wiping his dirty hands on a random rag he found on the bed of the truck.

Joel takes a second too long to get up from the floor. You see the hesitance in his eyes as he tries to think the best way to stand without hurting or pulling a muscle.

This is your chance. “Need help there, grandpa?” You pipe up, resting the tray on the portable table scattered with tools.

Joel openly glares at you while you smile broadly at him. It’s not often you make fun of his age, or rather, the age gap between the two of you. It’s only when you’re feeling a particular sort of way.

The age gap between the two of you isn’t the craziest but it’s large enough for people to notice. Joel is easily through the first half of his fourth decade, while you are barely entering your third.

“Watch your mouth,” Joel warns you, standing up quickly despite the cracking of his knees and the ache on his lower back.

Your eyes spark when he grabs the glass of cool lemonade and begins chugging it. The drops of sweat sliding down his neck and into the damp collar of his shirt stealing your attention and any innocent thought you’ve might’ve had about him. They weren’t many to begin with.

You clench your thighs together as you imagine licking that same trail, tasting his salty skin. Say what you want but you love a man that works with his hands and gets all dirty and grimy.

Joel catches onto the glazed look covering your eyes and grasps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His body gravitating towards yours as if nature demanded it.

You’re overly conscious of the motor oil covering his hands if not you would’ve sucked his thumb into your mouth, reminding him just exactly you can do with your tongue.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, darlin’?”

Him. It’s all about him. He’s always interrupting whatever sane thought you have. Scenarios of you being bent over the hood of the truck as he sinks his aching length from behind. You riding him in the front seat as you’ve done on more than one occasion, fogging up the windows. The time he was knuckles deep inside of you, teasing fingers drenched during his lunch break.

“How good gray looks on you,” you reply, diverting the conversation somewhere else entirely. A delicate fingers wraps around the charming curl that constantly falls over his forehead, twirling it around.

Joel doesn’t take kindly to your comment, rolling his eyes and clicking his jaw as he lets go of you to return to the truck. Your hand which had been playing with his curl drops to your side as you cock your hip to assess him.

He’s much too aware of the age gap, it makes him insecure. Like you’ll one day realize you’re with an old man and leave him for someone younger.

Except in your eyes he’s the most perfect man alive. The grey streaks of hair that mix with the typical brown of his curls give him an air of authority, making him look dashing in all ways. A silver fox. Strong muscles from working manual labor most of his life are now covered with a healthy layer of fat but remain strong nonetheless. Warm brown eyes that sweep you off your feet every morning as soon as they open.

That man is aging like fine wine and he doesn’t begin to realize it. You feel extremely lucky to be the only one to enjoy it…squeaky joints and all.

Joel is experienced and mature and loyal. He simply wants to have a nice life with his family. A family you’re now a part of. It’s all a woman could ask for.

“You know I love you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans over the hood.

“Love to torture me,” he scoffs, taking hold of one of your hands affectionately. He can never stay mad at you.

“I don’t know what you mean? I brought you lemonade and even that apple pie you love so much,” you feign innocence, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back.

Facing you with a sigh, he lets his heavy hands fall on your hips, “What’re you playing at?”

“Me? Nothing,” you say with a wicked smile, “I’m gonna go with Sarah to the mall to get her homecoming dress. Will you be alright here with Ghost?”

He’s quickly distracted by the words Sarah and Homecoming. His babygirl is growing too fast, starting High School and going on dances with boys. She hasn’t told him yet if she’s been invited by someone and he hopes it stays that way.

There’s no way he’s letting her go with a date and you can’t convince him other wise. If she wants a date she can take the puppy she adopted, Ghost. Joel is determined to teach the ball of fur how to defend his daughter.

“Here,” he says, pulling out his wallet to hand you his credit card.

“No, it’s my treat!” You say, pushing his hand away.

“Take it,” Joel insists, trying to slip it into the tight pair of jeans you’re wearing. Fuck. How didn’t he notice until now.

It should be illegal to wear jeans that make you look THAT good. The blue material hugs your thighs tightly and lifts your perky ass to heaven—not that you other wise need it.

He doesn’t hold back and slides his palms on your back pockets, giving you a firm squeeze. You stumble, falling onto him with a weak protest.

“‘M so fucking lucky you’re my woman,” he groans, taking another feel. Temporarily forgetting the conversation at hand, yet another comment directed at his age snaps Joel back to reality.

“Honey, I know I married an older man but it wasn’t for your money,” you tease again, patting his cheek and removing his hands from your pockets—credit card and all.

A sharp slap to your ass, startles you, eliciting a cheeky giggle. All this teasing and you’re leaving him home alone with the mutt.

You don’t apologize, you’ll never apologize for teasing him. Unless it’s in the right circumstances…in his bed.

Towards the end of the night you finish pushing him to the edge of no return. Remember, opportunities are always around when you’re determined.

“Dad, can you sign this for school?” Sarah comes into the living room where you and Joel are watching a movie. Ghost’s head is plopped on his lap, where Joel had been ‘forced’ to pet him.

“What’s this for?” Joel tries to read the paper but has to keep it at arms reach to be able to read it. Failing, he searches for his glasses until Sarah points at his head where they’ve been resting for half the night, nestled between his curls.

You stifle a laugh as you think of what to say. “Sorry Sarah, good old peepaw needs his glasses to read.”

It’s clear you’re pushing it far as Joel freezes only to glare at you. If looks could kill you’d be six feet underground. Sarah laughs until her belly hurts, repeating the word peepaw between breaths.

“You two are bullies,” Joel shakes his head in disbelief, signing the permit and handing it to Sarah who is wiping her tears away.

“I’m heading to bed, goodnight old man,” Sarah tells a pouting Joel, kissing his cheek and running up the stairs. “Come on, Ghost. Bedtime!”

“Peepaw? Really?” Joel raises his eyebrows at you when both Sarah and Ghost are gone.

You shrug feigning innocence, hiding your smile with the edge of the blanket. ”Yeah, peepaw. It’s cute.”

“It ain’t cute,” Joel kisses his teeth before turning off the TV and standing from the couch, leaving you behind.

“Where are you going?” You call after him.

“To bed,” he dryly responds, shutting off the lights and climbing the stairs. He only leaves the lamp by the couch on. How considerate of him.

“What? Joel it’s barely 10!” Hiding your satisfaction is difficult. Joel’s ticked off, a day of calling him old will do that. It’s exactly what you hoped for.

“Guess that’s what old men do, darlin,’” Joel says sarcastically half way up the stairs.

With a hand over your mouth, you follow him, “Honey, come on. Don’t be angry, it’s harmless teasing. Are you really heading to bed?”

Joel turns at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you, “You really think I’m an old man?”

“Technically speaking you are an older man,” you quip, scrunching your nose cutely.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Joel crosses his arms, reprimanding you for your cheekiness.

“I dunno why you get like this, you should know I love my older men,” you say sultrily, although it falls on deaf ears as Joel retreats to the bedroom.

When you step into the bedroom you’re instantly pressed against the door, slamming it shut. Joel’s sneaky hands lock it. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darlin.’ Don’t make me bend you over my knee and give you a spanking.”

The thought alone makes you shudder in delight. Wetness instantly seeping into your underwear. You’ve finally succeeded. You have him right where you want him.

With your hands braced on his chest you deliver the final blow. “You sure your knees can take it?”

Disbelief flashes in Joel’s eyes, “That’s it!”

Grabbing your arms Joel leads you to the bed where he sits on the edge. He roughly pull down on your jeans, panties and all, leaving them pooled on your knees, limiting your mobility.

With another tug he lays you face down on his lap, holding your wrists behind you in a tight grip. Joel shakes his head at your upturned ass that’s waiting a little too eagerly for his touch.

Delight bubbles out of you and Joel is determined to take you down a notch or two. Let’s see how you handle this after fucking with him all damn day.

The first swat comes without warning, eliciting a gasp from you. It’s sharp and borderline painful. A red handprint magically appearing on your left butt cheek.

Joel massages and paws at the skin, getting ready to deliver another one. “Cat got your tongue?” He questions at your sudden silence.

You try to look over your shoulder and say, “Is that all you got?”

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Joel’s mouth. Then, three fast slaps are delivered, successfully earning him a whine from your pretty lips. He rubs on the sweltering flesh, easing some of the sting.

Finding their way to your thighs his fingers dig between them to cup your pussy. It’s no surprise that it’s warm, messy and slick. Clear strands extending from it to the inside of your thighs and covering his digits.

You’re a fucking vixen who loves to torture him for your own fucking pleasure and he’s the damn fool who falls for it each and every time.

“Touch me,” you huff, wiggling on his lap to grind on his hand, hoping to gain more contact with his coated digits.

“Touch you? Oh, darlin’ you’re not getting off the hook so easily,” Joel mentions darkly, retrieving his hand and landing yet another smack to your ass, making it ripple from the impact.

“Ow!” You flinch yet remain in the same position, expecting more. You fucking love when Joel gets rough with you. It’s a shame you have to gauge it out of him like this.

“Wasn’t this what you wanted? Hm?” Joel’s asks and when he doesn’t get a response his hand flies down once more. “What was it you called me?”

There’s a beat of silence before his hand strikes, this time aiming towards the middle. “Gra-grandpa,” you stutter at the small burst of pleasure.

“Mhm, what else darlin’?” He prompts again. His middle finger tracing the slit of your pussy, feeling you grow impossibly wetter. His pretty little wife is always so reactive to his touch.

“Old man.”

The stinging in your skin grows warmer, no doubt turning a considerable shade of cherry red. Yet the ache in your cunt obscures it all. The scraps of attention only makes your arousal worse.

“I think there was one more,” Joel hums, urging you on. His slick finger teasing your weeping entrance.

“P-peepaw,” you gasp when Joel pushes it in until his knuckle meets your delicate skin.

“That’s right, peepaw,” Joel repeats absentmindedly, pushing his middle finger in and out. Listening intently to the squishing sound your pussy makes.

He’ll have you calling him something else by the end of the night.

Tight walls grip his finger like a vice, refusing to let go. Soft puffs of air tumble out of your mouth and he knows your eyes are closed as you concentrate on the minimal pleasure he’s providing you with. It’ll never be enough to make you cum but it’ll keep you bothered.

“Get up,” Joel orders with a softer smack to your bottom, wiping his slick covered finger on your skin. He helps you up from the restrained position he kept you in and makes work of taking off your clothes.

Joel pulls and tugs on your shirt roughly, throwing it mindlessly across the room. He palms your tits briefly, pinching one of your nipples to make you whine his name. With cracking knees he kneels on the floor to help you out your jeans and underwear, kneading your thighs with his big strong hands.

He catches a glance of your reddening skin and feels a prickle of pride at the mark he left. Most of it will fade by morning but you’ll feel it nonetheless.

Sitting back on the edge of the bed he wordlessly motions you to get on your knees. A wicked smile spreads on your cheeks as you do as you’re told, kneeling between his spread legs.

Eager hands grasp his belt, undoing the worn leather to get to the button of his jeans. He provides no help, leaning back on his hands and simply watching you with hooded and expecting eyes.

You pull down on his jeans and underwear, revealing the happy trail that comes down his navel to the patch of brown at his pelvis.

His hard cock springs free once you’ve worked his pants down enough. A throaty groan coming from above you at the release of tension.

“Mmm,” you hum, grasping his length in your fist. His eyes meet yours when you look up to press a kiss to the tip, your hand pulling the thin skin back to reveal it.

“Stop with the teasin,’” Joel growls audibly, chastising you.

You rolls your eyes obnoxiosuly, “You’re no fun, g-“

A hand flies to your hair, gripping the roots tightly. Your eyes fly open, starting up at Joel. “You sure you want to finish that sentence, babygirl?”

“Maybe not,” you shrug with a pout, your hand mindlessly pumping his length.

“That’s what I thought.” Joel keeps his grip on your hair, pulling it back to see every detail of you taking his cock into your pretty mouth.

Your tongue goes flat against the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that runs along his length and letting saliva drip all down and into your fisted hand. Joel watches intently as your lips wrap around the angry red tip of his cock.

You start off slow taking more of his length with each bob of your head. Your eyes never leaves his face, observing every small reaction he makes. The sharp intake of breath when your tongue grazes his tip, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he fails to keep his moans in.

The sudden jerk of Joel’s hips causes your eyes to water and screw shut. The initial intrusion of his cockhead unexpected yet welcome. Joel throws his head back, “That’s a fucking good girl.”

Those magic words make everything worth it as you messily continue to suck and lick every inch of his cock. Neither the tears in the corner of your eyes nor the saliva dripping down his length stop you from tasting him.

You swear you’re dripping on the floor as your pussy flutters at his pleased words. You could touch yourself but all your energy and attention goes to pleasing the man above you.

The pain of kneeling hard wood floor for an extended period of time doesn’t bother you and the ache on your jaw is barely noticeable because all your concentration is on Joel and making him feel good.

Joel continues to set the pace, his grip tight on your scalp. “Fuck, just like that,” he moans when you tease the crown of his cock expertly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel’s voice lilts in a reprimanding voice.

A string of saliva connects you to the tip of him as your hand continuing to work on the rest of his length.

Joel takes note of your red rimmed eyes and flushed nose as well as in your swollen lips and moussed hair. The picture of you completely filthy and sexy.

Joel cups the back of your neck, bringing you up to his height. He brings you into a sloppy kiss consisting of teeth and tongue and saliva. Joel loves that can taste himself in your mouth. A job well done.

You straddle his lap so his cock grazes your dripping pussy, tugging needily at his tshirt. “Take it off,” you beg. Your lips separate for a brief second as the shirt comes off before they smash back together.

He complies but quickly reminds himself that this all started because you were calling him old. He can’t be quick to reward you.

You foolishly believe that’s it and you get to have him. Eagerly you try to sink into his cock but he holds you still, not letting you take him to the hilt.

“Who’s the tease now?” You pant against his lips, stealing another long kiss before whispering in his ear begging him to take you, to use you.

“I like to see you begging for it.” That’s Joel’s response as he pushes you off of him.

You protest but fall silent when he removes his remaining clothes. God you’re like a teenager desperate to fuck with clothes and all.

It drives Joel nuts the way you look at him with lust filled eyes. You bite your lip as you take him in all his glory, hands reaching to touch his chest.

He pulls you back to him, his cock wedged between the two of you. The saliva covering it, sticking to your skin. He cups your face, “You have something to say?”

“Nope.”

Joel to cos his head in disappointment, pushing you into bed and maneuvering you till your head is buried in the pillows and your ass is high in the air. It’s tinged a dozen shades of pink and red from his hands.

You wiggle your hips offering yourself to him. Air hits your pussy, giving you an idea of how aroused you are. That’s what happens whenever you have the pleasure of going down in Joel.

Joel grips himself, spreading his pre before pumping his hand. Smack. His hand flies down to strike your ass once more. Your back arches when Joel teases your entrance with the tip. He runs it up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. He lightly pushes into you so only the tip is inside before he pulls out again.

“Please fuck me,” you plead breathlessly, attempting to rock back to get more of him inside you.

Joel laughs. “Now you’re nice and polite. Is there something else you want to tell me?” He asks expecting an apology.

“No,” you repeat stubbornly.

He’ll get you soon enough. There’s no way you’ll resist.

Joel’s cock brushes against your clit, making you jump and moan. He does it again and again. Your pussy clenches desperately wanting him inside of you.

“You sure? You don’t want to apologize?” He gives you another chance. Sinking his cock deeper into you to give you a taste before he pulls out.

You huff and pout but you can’t take it anymore. You need him. “I’m sorry!”

“Now, was that so hard,” Joel grunts, pushing his length all the way in, rewarding you.

You bury your head into the pillow, stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Joel’s cock and be happy.

With a tight grip on your waist Joel fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic.

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but Joel knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keeping you from cumming.

“I wanna cum,” you cry out frustrated but he ignores you, edging you.

“If you want to cum tonight you have to stop calling me old,” Joel grits. This is torture for him as much as it is for you.

“I said I’m sorry,” you sob into the pillow, your back arching as you try and take matters into your own hands. Smack, another spank, warning you to stop.

“Will you stop calling me grandpa?”

You have the audacity to fucking hesitate. He’s serious about not letting you cum but he’s confident he’ll get you to cave in.

Joel pulls out his cock when you refuse to answer. He instantly misses the warmth and tightness of your walls. His cock is soaked with your slick, a creamy white substance covering him from root to tip.

Licking his middle and ring fingers he replaces his cock, feeling your walls clench around them. He pumps them angling them downward to reach that spot inside of you, his other hand pressing on your lower back so you arch more.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp when this thumb presses on your bud. An orgasm quickly building. “Please Joel.” You wanted to cum around his cock not his fingers but at this point you’ll take anything you can get. Your mind is completely clouded and years for release.

“Did you reconsider what you wanted to call me?” Joel curves his fingers, quickening the pace.

“Yes,” you whine as your hips grind against his hand.

“And what’s that?” His fingers are sticky, your essence dripping down his hand.

“Please, daddy,” you cry abashedly, hiding your reddening face in the pillows.

“I didn’t hear ya’ darlin’. How about you look at me when you speak?” Joel dares to say while his fingers continue to drive into you.

Fuck, your legs are shaking and the knot continues to tighten in your belly. You have to say it or Joel will stop. You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Please, daddy.”

“That’s more like it,” Joel’s raspy voice says, removing his fingers when you’re at the cusp once more.

You audibly groan in frustration but it’s interrupted when Joel eases his cock back into you Fucking you just as you want it, hard and fast.

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you both to titer over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

When Joel pulls out you fall to lie on your stomach, catching your breath. He lies beside you doing the same. Sharing a glance you both start laughing.

“Next time you want it rough just tell me,” Joel shakes his head at you. He knew all along and yet it still pissed him off.

“It’s not the same, honey,” you sigh, kissing his shoulder. The nearest part of him you can reach without moving too much.

The following morning you wake up with a kink in your back and Joel being the ever loving husband brings you painkillers to bed where you’re lying still, “Take these grandma. They’ll make you feel better.”

He won’t ever call you ‘grandma’ again. The daggers you sent him were fucking terrifying.

listen...typically i'm not the biggest fan of the daddy kink...but when it works, it works

[cypherscript]

Linchpin

The GIW have finally done it; they finally rid the world of the strongest ghost in their recorded history and the world finally know peace from ghost kind.

Watchtower - Four years three months later.

"Right," Tim Drake-Wayne aka Red Robin stood before a small council of Batman, Wonder Woman, Booster Gold, Martian Manhunter and the Flash, "Thank you, everyone for allowing me to request this meeting but it's imperative that this matter be seen to before something irreversible comes to pass."

"Red Robin, wandering."

"Right, sorry." Tim taps away on the computer and pulls up several of his personal photos from his day off last month of the night sky with two bright pinpoints of lights. "This is the night sky with Alpha Centauri a month ago. I was on vacation and managed to get some good pictures for that night but something else happened that night." He pulls up another photo of the same night sky but one of the stars were gone.

"Where'd the left star go," Flash asks as he pulls over a digital copy of the two pictures.

"I don't know but it's still not there. A month ago Proxima Centauri went out and no one's saying anything about it online. I was hoping to petition the Justice League to borrow the Watchtower's computer and telescope to check the area."

"I don't see why that would be an issue," Wonder Woman says as she also looks over the pictures with the flash. "Batman?"

"I don't have a problem with it but it needed someone not connected to the issue to vote on it." With that said they voted to let Tim borrow the computer's telescope and began scanning the area. Several hours later they had a really clear picture of the area Proxima Centauri had been. In its spot there was nothing; no gas, no planets, no nebulas or anything but darkness.

"We should probably get Green Lantern or one of the space heroes." Batman's Hn spoke leagues to his current mood.

_____________________________________________________________

"So your little bird was right, Bats. Proxima's gone and it's not the only one. The Guardian's have been receiving distress calls for several universal cycles. Tamaran, Corona Seven, Betelgeuse, Alpha Corvi to name some." Hal says as he reads from a list projected from his ring, "They've traced a Decay Field originating from Earth over four years ago. Supposedly failed supervillain attack? Experimentation gone wrong?"

"We're unsure. We've talked with the United Nations and no one's come forward with anything concrete. We do have a list the length of the Batmobile of possible culprits though."

"Sorry but what's a Decay Field? I can hear those capital letters and don't just say it's a field that decays stuff." Flash asks, looking up from his portion of experiments.

"But it is... The Guardian's explained it like a kill switch to certain technologies. Something happened on Earth four years that made the universe start eating itself."

"Then why not start with our sun? Why start at a star 4 light years away," Batman asks, putting down the League's digitized stellar map, "If the field originated on Earth, Sol should have been the first to vanish."

"Strange isn't it?"

A burst of static comes from the speakers at the table, causing a couple to flinch before a corrupted male voice speaks to them.

Ņ̵͙͔̼̓̏̕̚o̸̢̳̮̖̩̪͉͒̊̓̐t̸͙͓̻̙͗̌͆́̈ ̸̢̖̪̫̪͙̉̆ͅǎ̸̦͔̜͂͗͛͘͠t̸͇̏̂̉̆ ̵̹̖̣͎̘̟̞͒͆a̴̛̟͗́͂̿͜ḻ̸̑́̀l̵̢̗̻̙̜̄͆.̶̢̨̤̞̖͕̾̏͌̽̽ ̷̛̩̘͍̺͚͈̐̔́̾͊̚W̸̨̳̟͍͓̱̊͗̿̓͜e̸̛̛̹̒͜ ̵̞̻̌̓͆̂̕w̷͉͐́e̴̼̗͑̐̈̑̆͝r̴̫̻͇͖̞͂è̶̯̺͙̬̲ ̶̢̣̣̥͐̓̓w̶͇̺̯̝̲̌̚o̸̡̢̗͖̤̮͑̇n̵͇̣͙̫̹̄͌̽d̴̺̼͕̙̐́̂̈e̴̢̧̮̣͍̯̽͝r̵̼͙̩͛͆͝i̷̝̱͎̞͑̏̀n̵̯̰̻̹̭͕̫̈́͛́̌͘g̵̨̛̻̯̺̠͈̜̅͂̌͘͠͝ ̸̺͉͍̹̱͕̈́̅̀̾̈́͘ẅ̷̨̝͔̖͉̜̭͘̕h̴͚̘͕͊̄ȩ̷̢̱̱̤̫̗̈͘n̸̼̦̭̹͆̏͘ ̷̰̫̳͊͌̋̇͂̍̕͜ẙ̷̭͙̘̅̋́̚ó̶͔̪̥̩̭͎̺͋͑́́̒ũ̶͙̝̬͖̯̏̎͠ ̴̢͈͎̤̜̲͛̈̓̀̒̍̕ͅp̸̨͈̱̥̙̗̠̊̋̀e̶͚͊̈́͐̀̋͠ơ̵̧̧͍̥̮p̴͈̘̺̙̫͈̀͆́l̵̝̻̼̳̋ͅͅḙ̵̮͍̻̺̀̑͛́͑̕ ̸̮̥̀̉̈́͑͊͐͂w̵̲̥̅̎̋̓ȏ̴͚̰̩̐̓̎̿̍̀ͅȗ̵̙͓̂͝l̶̟̪͐͗͂̂d̵͎̦̈́̌̀͌ ̵̧̗̲̈́́̔f̵̨͙̪̌̌̀͜͠i̷̳͛̉̊̆̈̓̒n̶̮̗̤͋̾̂̂͘a̶̤̫̘͚͌̓̒̊l̴̟̰̼͉͖̉̎̓͒͆̅͜l̶̾̉̒��̢̹̕y̴̡̙̞͒̒̏̉ ̷̧͙̺̯̼̉ǹ̷̯̲́̉̈̚o̸͓̠̖͌̋͒͛ṭ̵̟̥͕͉̀̔ȋ̴̢͉͎̃͆̈́̈́̈́͠c̵̰̰͎̭̯͑̆͌͗͝ȅ̷̖̫̃̐̈͝ ̵͎̣̖̄̃͋̌̂̌̊w̴̹̦̙̜̙͉̰̓̈́̚h̸͇̣̩̝͇͊̃͑͆̂͝ä̵͚̭̪̖̀͗͑̄͘t̶̛̟̳̣͔͍̿̓͆͘͠ ̷̨̠̪͔͎̐̇͌ẁ̷̢͖͓̹͛̈a̷̭͚̭̳̙͇̽́̉̽̐͘s̷̨̲̖͌̆̊̋̐̈́ͅ ̵̻̻̯͍̤̊̂͝͝ĝ̴̨̢̰̙̞̲̂̽̈o̴̪̥̙̽̅͗̓í̷͈̯̾́̋̾̊n̸̳̘͍͒̋̏͆̀̐͜ͅg̸̻̿͗̐̊̍̚͝ ̶̤̰̹̭͙̬͙̇̀ṏ̴̘̮̱̦͍́͂̑̚͜͝ņ̵̼͊.̴̡̜͔͍͇͍̃̐

(Not at all. We were wondering when you people would finally notic what was going on.)

"Who are you," Batman demands as the voice chuckles, "Is this your doing?"

Ņ̷͙̹̱͕̀͐̄́͜ớ̷̩̠̻̅̉̈́̎̀ͅ.̷̮̲̰̩͆͗͂̆́̒̚

(no)

"But you know about it, what's doing this and how do we stop it?"

I̷̢̬͉̖͗̒̀̈ ̷̟͎̯̺̺͕̅̆͆̌̐̔́d̷͙͔̜̿ȏ̶̡͓̩͝ņ̴̜̤̟̳́͑̂̚͠͝͠'̵̝̜̉̆́t̷̛̯͌̓̎̎ ̴̞́̈̍ţ̴̢͓͙́ḧ̸̲͛̿͗̍i̶̧̯̱̠̩̥̭͛̉̊̌̈̒͝n̷͖̯̩̺͛͂̊̑͐͠ķ̶̧̙̖̐͐̀̄ ̷̛̦̲̎̋̑y̷̧̯̝̝̦̌̒͌͂o̴̧̹̲͉̟̝̱̊̏u̵̱̣̘̳͖̇͗͆͐ͅ ̷͙͇̝̳͒̎̑̓͜͝ͅͅc̵̫̼̠̮͕̠̃ą̸̣͇̩̬̟͌̋͠n̵̛̬̟̼͈̪͓̲̆̀̔̋̈́̕.̸̢̝̳̜̥̗̾́.̸̢̪͔̹͈̂̈̆͛̇́̔.̸͓̯͓̞̃̉̃ ̸̢͉͉̳̬͙̗͗͂͌̄̏T̵͚̩̙̽̈́͛͌́̀h̶̘̲̙̪̗̾i̵̭͕̙̟̒̔͝ͅș̵͗̈́̚͝ ̶̥̲̹̜̖̼̯̉̍į̶͓̥̀̍̓s̸̢̡͓̬̰̹̋̿̿̃́̽͜ ̵̀̈̇́͐̚ͅp̸̡̨͎͇̦̌̍͜ṳ̸̫̖̘̑͋͂̕̕͝n̵͔͔͇̺͚̪͋͂ͅĩ̸̢̛̥̬̮̙̈́́̔s̸̩̝̝̓̀̈́ḧ̸̫͇́̓̄́̕ṃ̸̨̐̄̾̌͂͝ẽ̴͓̈́n̵̮̥̯͑͛͂̀́͝ţ̷̨̟̖͚̹̺͗̋͑͌̄.̷̭̐̈̕

(I don't think you can, this is punishment.)

"Punishment for what?! We didn't do anything," Flash shouts as he stands up to yell at the voice.

Ỳ̸͕̖̼͐o̵̘̻̩̹̽̀̍͑͗̊̓ú̴̢͇̮̯͍̑̚ ̷̢̢͖̹̍͗͜ḏ̵̨̹͔͆̈́̀̀̑͆͜i̶̲̯̯̱͍͐̆̉͛͋͐ͅd̶͈͇̤̙̃̃͑͌̅̓͆n̷͓̳̅̄'̶͙͓͉̣̝͓͌̽͘t̵̡̝̘͔̮̹͔̊̈́͋͂́̾,̷̧͔̲͕̙̋̚ ̶̳̙͉̩̄̐̄͌b̷̻̮̟̩͑̿̕ű̶̩̩͚t̷̛͎̤̠̪̮́̒͜ͅ ̵̠͓̩̤̋̇̂͆̕ͅc̶̘̹͒ị̵̢̟̩̄́͐̒͝t̶̠̥͙̗͎̺̘́͗̄͂̅̚ḯ̸͆̒̀͂̑̎��̞̳̝̰z̴̯͉̾̑̈́͝͝ę̵̻̼̟̗̌̎͝͝n̴̘̓̈́̎̊͌͛s̷̝̭͔͈͗̂͐̇ ̵̱̇͑̆̋̓͜͝͠ő̶̥̝̠̞̇͆̊̀͌͗͜f̸͈̖͆̀̑̈̇̄̓ ̷̨͇̦͕̺̩̃̓̇̇͐̀t̴̬̬͇͔͛̃̊̿̀̏́h̷̯̠͒̒͋̆̂̅͠é̶̡ ̸̰̘͈̹̳̈́Ẽ̸̢̟̥̺͈̙̓̈̄͘͠͝a̶̛͎̥̦͙͆̑͋̿͝͠ͅr̶̺̟̱̈́̀ţ̵̝̩̬͍̉̔͊́̕͠h̶̥̠̣̹̰̻̖͆͂̉͌͠ ̶̳̣̠͚̮̌͆̋̅͂̈́ḧ̶͖͉̟̮̜̻̖́̊ã̸̲̦̗̜̌̿͌́̑̚v̵̯͚̲̯̖͋̽͝ͅȩ̴̛͕̯̖̈́͌ͅ.̸̩͚̽

(You didn't but the citizens of the Earth have.)

"What did they do to warrant starting a Decay Field to eat the universe?!" The next words spoken was a combination of several voices.

T̷̝̹̥̘̯̠̓̑̽ͅh̶̺͓͕̝̍͗̐̃̄̚ȇ̶̜͉͈̦̮̓͝͠y̵͔̗̫͎͙͚͠ ̷̟̓̃͂ķ̷̦̳͎̓̃͛͌̒͝ͅi̴̫̪̮̰̭̠̘̊͑͛́̐l̴̖̲̙̀̿l̵̹̦̪͐̌̎͆ę̷̨̙͇̮͇̊ḋ̵͉͙͖̦̪̰̒͝ ̴̮̜̥̟͚͇͊̀ḿ̵̱̼̮̠̪̘̓̃̀̐͐͝ŷ̸̖̞̤͐̄͛͆ ̸͎̯̠̰̆͋̓̌̂͌͛b̶̢̜̙͎͌̓̐e̸̛̥̳͒̋̽́́s̴̨̙͑́͑̒͐̐t̷͙͌̀̄͝ ̵̰͑̓͜f̷̛̦̭̀́̅̌r̷̖̹̫͕̬̩̔į̴͎͖̯̜̲̥͒̀͊̓̆͒͘ẻ̵̬͈͊͝n̶̤̼̥͚̱͉̔͗̂͝d̶̯̼̋̏̂̈̿͝ͅ.̴̻̭̣̭̪̣̖̒̐̒̄͝ (They killed my best friend.)

T̶̰̗́̋̓͝h̶̞͔̠̪͖͎̝́ě̴͇̭̻̗̣̉̔y̴̛̝̼͎͇̼͌̽̏̚ ̴̢̛̞͕͓̜̻̑͋̍́k̷̲̃̓̊̊́̽ǐ̷̡̟͔̜͈̃ḽ̶̢̭̠͕͒̈́͊́̈́l̵̠͎̎̋̄͘ȅ̷͖̪͖͒̈́d̴̩͖̳̜̯̹̋͑ ̷̜̜̯̬̤͂̑̀̍͋͒̆m̴̙͕̹̩̞͐̌̅̾y̷̡̱͉̠̗͇̏̓̉ͅ ̴̨̖͇̠͜͝p̷̺̯̖̹͚͎͛̋͌ȃ̵̧̪̼̫͈̺̞̾͋̓͛r̶͇̺̫͂̍̑̕t̵̟̦̞̞͍̀̒̉́̋̓n̸͎̻̻̒ȇ̵̢̪̣̤̫͐͜r̸̡̯̪͖̻̃̉̓͘̕͝.̸̹̖̜̈́̃̎̓ (They killed my partner.)

T̴̗̻̫̼̙͛̐̿̈́͂̈̐̎̔̆̀͑͐͠͝ͅh̸̘̞̫̺̗̹͆̽͒̅ȩ̴̡͕̄ÿ̵̢̳̺̗̲̠̩̹̟͈̞̘́͊̓̀́̏̒͑̐̿̊ ̸̼̞͖̻̰̤͚́k̴̛͚̬̹͚͒̐͊̍̉́́̚͝͠ͅͅi̵̘͈̿̌̋̂̈͌̋̐͑̕͝l̵̘̊̒̄́̈́͂̒̍́̿͗̐̉͝͝l̴̬͔͎̍̓͋̉̐̀͂̕͘͠͝e̷̙̭̪̝̭̜̻̠̓͋͑̔̓̈́̋̈͒̒̉̔̏̚͝d̸͕̫̼͉̫͓̜̩̪̺̫͈͋͝ͅ ̸̧̧̼̙̰̮͓̖̑̈́͋͌̅̃̑́̍͛̂͠t̶̡͎̼̖̳̼̣͚͓̝̘͉̊̍̈́͛͆́̾̀͊̃̚͝ḧ̸̨̛̺̹̭̖̠̞́͛̀e̸̡͚̤̮̼̳̽͗͛̾̀̆͂͑̀͛͜͝ ̸̛̪̝̺͓͇̜̀́̿̄̏̕̚w̸͉͕͐̾̋̏͒̂͒̓̚ḩ̴̠̹͇̘͔͚̈́̿̄͆̓̑͑̚͝͠͠͝��̘̻ę̶̛͔̲̰̖̗̈͋̾͑̂́̅̈͑͆́̀̓͝l̶̨͇͇͉͖͂̃̈̂p̷̛͇̭̺̲̠͕̝̹͍̙̓̍̈́̾̆́̋̐̀̿̓̂̉ (they killed the whelp)

Ţ̵̇̍͐͝ḥ̶̢͎̇ͅě̶̢̨̇̉̎̉ÿ̶̹͔̼́̅͌͑̚ ̸̖̤͛̿̎̍̂̍ͅk̴͓̞̼̙̰̼̅̑͌̍̄i̷͓̣͎͑͂̌̽̈́̾͝l̸̮͖̖̲͑͑͋̐l̸̛̛͇̹̙̳̟͌̽̃̌è̴͇̒͗͐͂d̷̮͈̋̚ͅ ̴͉͈̞͙̙͇̈́̋͂̚ȯ̶͚͓͋̍̍ǔ̴̢͎̹͕̀͆̇̒̂r̶̮̖̱͂̉̽̔ ̵̤͙̺̒́͌̿̈͠s̷̛͔̣̹̱̼͆͐o̸͕͖̘̬̭͒͑̾̆̓̇n̸̡͖̙̗̩̆̀͌̃.̵̬͉͎̞̬͗́͊̀̂̓̕(they killed our son.)

T̷͖͇̱̜̺̳͠ͅh̷̥͍̼̼̥̊ͅę̶̨̺͇͖̹̒͒ỹ̸̟̟̜̗̘̠̓̓̑̑̄͜ ̷̗̲́͊͋̅ͅk̸̻̤͉̝̽͊̃̉̄͒̃i̴͔͙̰̮̐ͅl̸̤̥̭̊̾͘l̶̢̠̹̩͉̦̏͒͘e̷̢͕̠̥̜̘͓̿̈́̏̅͝d̷̪̭͕̓̐͛̿̈̚ͅ ̶̙̱̩̠̄̎̈́́͘̕m̵̪̫͉̲͑͑ͅy̸̢̬̹̞̳͗̃͌̔̔ ̶̢̼͖̼͕̋̎͛͝͠k̶̞̱̘̲̺͔̔̏̇̍̕ǐ̶̜̟͆̍ṋ̶͈͓̱͌͛̑̂͐̇g̸̩͕̻̃̍̔̃̏̚.̵͙̖͐͠ (They killed my king)

T̶͙͍̤̼͕̎͌͜h̴̩̬̞̕̕͜e̷̫͔̟̔͐͒ͅÿ̴̢̢̻̯̩̱́́̇̄͗̑͠ ̸̧̤̪͈̗͈̼̉̓͋̐k̸̢̟̲͝í̵̢̩ͅl̸͈͒̄͋͝͝l̴̡͍̥̱̙̫̣̄̈́͌e̸̛͔̾̒͛̂̉d̴̪̀̓͜ ̴̧̭͚̥͛͗t̶̨͙̬̥͉̼̎͋̍͜h̶͙̲̟̆ḙ̶͕̿ ̶̧̬͒̍͠͝Ḡ̴̨̓ṛ̶͙̺̘̭̮͍̏̒͗͋̇͝e̶̖̙̥͛̄͆̾͋̐̚a̷͚̙̠̙̠͝ͅt̵̰̥̺̹̂̓ ̸̞́̈́Ó̶̞̳̈́̃͋̇́n̴͙̘̤͉͆̆͗̇̈͆̋e̷̛̹͂͝.̵̝̲̣̅(they killed the Great One)

I̵̜͎͎̘͍͒̈̑̄̔͝l̴̝͔̙̞̓͋̅i̶̖͉̠͎͍̽̒ ̸͇̰̝͙̮̩͒̓̒̆̊̚m̷̨̨̘͔̀͊͌̆̈͐̐͜ơ̷̢̺͉͓̤͍̺̒͝r̵̨̧̰͎̓̎̽͒͛t̸̤̲̙̄͐́̈́̕̕͜į̶̧̭̙̗͙͙̊̉̍͛̿̋g̵̜̺̘̙̼͇̃i̵͈̅̀̅s̵̞̯̯̩͖͖̎ ̴̡̤̞̇̾̆̈̓͝m̵̺͈̺̻̫̰̋̽͐̍͛̕͜ȉ̴̮̙̳̄͛ą̵͕̭̲̱͈̒ǹ̸̨̛̫̺̯̥̗́͜͝ ̵̨̳̝͓̼͆͂͂͛̍͘s̴̡̢̟̘̝̠̘̃̏͑̑̎͠à̶̧̛͖̦v̷͚̇̈́́̏͝â̴̢͓̚n̶̢̗͓̘͖̹͂̂̚ṱ̶̒̂̈̃͆ŏ̸̬̥̎̕ń̵̨̛͇̲̫̦̮̎̾̔̀ (ili mortigis mian savanton/killed my savior)

T̸̢̨͍̲̝̣͎͈̖͓͇͈̘͓̐̉̏̉͊̍̈́̋̕h̸̢̨̙͇̳̜͖̎̇͛̈́͜ḛ̶̡̻͕̝̫̣͇̉̅y̷̢͖̤̫̔̎̌ ̵͎͍̭̟̗̼̹̪̠͉̲̍͆̓́͜k̴̢̗̺̘̳̰͎̲͇̃̌͆͂̀̔̾͛͂̉͘͝͝i̶̟̹̳̱̤͚͖͖̫̲̓̾̄̅̆̎͂̕l̴̨̡̡̲̥͓̠̰̼̥̂͑̀͝ḻ̷̡͕̩̫̾͐́͑̓̃́͒̈́͆̿̓͌̚͘ͅȩ̶̡̣̮̯̳͓̼̓̉̽̄̍́̔̓̆̎̀ď̷͈̬̱̂ ̶͖̺̝͉̜͇̅͐̓̆͗̿̋̿̀̍͝b̵̧̮͆̂̄̒̐̿͋͌̆̍̓̈́͘͝ä̴̡̛͔̫̉͆̍̔̄́̈́͝b̸̮͙͛̃͛̀̃̍̓y̵̱͑̈́̽̇̄̓̔̌̚͝͠p̶͈̮̣̠̮͖͇̠̫̫̦̝̩̉̐̂̈́̐͐ǫ̵̯͙͓͚͍̂̊͊̉̾̌̂́͠͝p̷͙̯̪͔̙̗̞̘͙̅̄̒͒̍͛͋̈͋̕(they killed babypop)

T̴̯̮̝͙͕̐̍h̸̡̢̋͌͊ȅ̴̟̼̀̈́̄̀͌͠ý̸̨̯̩͐̎͒͒̒̕ͅ ̶̡͈̝͎̞͗̊͘k̸̭͇͙̬̫̙͊̎͆̓͝͝ͅi̶̦̝̳̪͂̅̈́̑l̷̛͈̭̺̄́̔̈́͋́l̶͙̳̯̩̈́͐e̴͇̰̭͙̙̿͜d̴̛͉͚͍̋͂̀̔̉ ̶̤̞͙͕̃̓͒͐m̴͈̹̟̃y̵̠̜̏̽̐̀́̀͝ ̶̢̥͉̊̊̊͐͝f̶͎̥͉́́ḁ̸̩̤̱̲̬̒̕͘ṯ̷̯̬̘̮͙̚ḩ̸̖͍͌̀̓̃͘ẻ̵̢͎̓͝r̸̨̩̗̘̗̒̈̆̓͂͘̕.̶̥̀͐̓̉(They killed my father)

Ţ̷̠̘̦̍̏̆̍̀͊̚ẖ̷̼̪̝͇̪̥͑e̸̢̨̻͚̬̯̭̊͗̀͝y̵̪͛̾̅́̓̕ ̶̤͕͆̑̓͐k̵̖͎͍̬͙͒̍i̴̛͙̬͚̫̻͑̆͆͂l̵̨͒̂͑l̷̛͖̫̫̳̭̱̀̀ę̴͈͕͖̜͎̋̆͒̓͘̚d̸̢̼͙̬͐͋̎̉͝ ̵̲̥͋̃̆͂͗͝m̷̞̭̖͚̭̣̑͛͗y̶̛̜͎͆̂͑̑ ̸̩̤̫̹́̾̈͂̏ḇ̷̞̱̣̂̋̚̚r̵̛̻̙̯̯̆̋̽̈́̚͝ô̷̱̍̈́t̶̡̙͈̘̹̫͆͒̽͐̏h̴̥̝́͊̅͌̓̔̒͜è̶͙̰̱́̅̾̉̽͂r̴͍͗̍͂̾̂̆.̷̺̖̥̖̹̾̓́̔ (They killed my brother)

Ṱ̵̻̤̩̰͛͆͑͒̍ͅh̸̜̼̅̀̏͒̄͐ĕ̵̲͚͕̓ͅy̷̻̣̭̰͎͊͂̇͛͗ͅ ̴̜̘̣̙͑̄k̵̭̝̹͛͒̽͘ȉ̵̫ļ̴̡͇̺͈̞͐͂̅͑ͅl̶̫̈́̃͊̏ę̶̛͖̪̺̤̌̓d̸̛̤̱͂ ̴̞͇̫̘͊m̴̛͖̩̲͊̏̈́̓͑̆ÿ̵͔͎́́ ̴͎͎͎͕̳͖̭͊͒͋̒͑̿s̷̬̹̔̒̾̉̿́̕͜t̵̹̋ụ̸̩̂̆̓d̷̢̧̪̞̦̻̓́̋̐̇̂e̷̡̢̯̤̜̞͈͛̑̎̿͝ń̵̙ẗ̵̨̛͔̯́.̷̨̟̰̩̲͆̉̚ (They killed my student)

"Stop! Stop!" Flash shouts over the voices, "We can't understand what you're saying! Who is 'They'?!"

The voices stop and the clearest voice they've heard yet speaks.

T̵͔̊h̸̲͑e̴̘͋ ̴̻̋G̴͚̈́h̸̩͌o̵̮̍s̷͍̽t̶̬͛ ̸͍̒Ȉ̵͚n̸͙̑v̴͙̽e̸̞̓s̴̞͘t̷̠̓ĩ̵͎g̷͖͘a̷̭͒ť̵͓i̵̟̇o̶̞̕n̵̨͠ ̸͓̂W̵̱͂a̵̺͝ŕ̷̥d̶͇͒

[whumptober]

Whumptober 2023

Welcome to Whumptober 2023 — the sixth year running!

COMPLETIONISTS/PARTICIPANT BADGES CAN BE FOUND HERE

To those of you who participated last year, welcome back! To everyone joining this year, welcome!

Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

And this years playlist can be found here.

There are 139 prompt options in total this year - this is including the alternatives list! A special thanks goes out to those who took part in our trope vote back in July. From the 1526 responses to our list of 223 tropes, we looked through the popularity results, as well as your honourable mentions, and were able to produce this years prompts list. Stay tuned, as we will be posting some of the results at a later date!

We’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information and FAQs are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List

No. 1: “But now this room is spinning while I’m trying just to fill in all the gaps.”

Safety Net | Swooning | “How many fingers am I holding up?”

No. 2: “I’ll call out your name, but you won’t call back.”

Thermometer | Delirium | “They don't care about you.”

No. 3: “Like crying out in empty rooms; with no-one there except the moon.”

Journal | Solitary Confinement | “Make it stop.”

No. 4: “I see the danger, It’s written there in your eyes.”

Cattle Prod | Shock | “You in there?”

No. 5: “You better pray I don't get up this time around.”

Debris | Pinned Down | “It's broken.”

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

Recording | Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

No. 7: " “I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds.”

Alleyway | Radio Silence | “Can you hear me?”

No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.”

Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.”

Polaroid | Mistaken Identity | “You're a liar.”

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

No. 11: “All the lights going dark and my hope’s destroyed.”

Animal trap | Captivity | “No one will find you.”

No. 12: “I haven't slept in days but who's counting?”

Red | Insomnia | “I’m up, I’m up.”

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.”

Flare | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

No. 15: “I don't need you to help me I can handle things myself.”

Makeshift Bandages | Suppressed Suffering | “I’m fine.”

No. 16: “Would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Gurney | Flatline | “Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

No. 17: “You’re the lump in my throat and the knot in my chest.”

Collar | Touch Aversion | “Leave me alone.”

No. 18: “I tend to deflect when I’m feeling threatened.”

Blindfold | Tortured For Information | “Hit them harder.”

No. 19: “I’ll take one final step, all you have to do is make me.”

Floral Bouquet | Psychological | “I’m not as stupid as you think I am.”

No. 20: “People don’t change people, time does.”

Blanket | Found Family | “You will regret touching them.”

No. 21: “See the chains around my feet.”

Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

No. 22: “They never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor.”

Glass Shard | Vehicular Accident | “Watch out!”

No. 23: “It’s gonna get me by the end of the night.”

Shadows | Stalking | “Who’s there?”

No. 24: “I’ve got a head full of chemicals; mouth full of ridicule.”

Goodbye Note | Neglect | “I thought they were with you.”

No. 25: “You’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave.”

Storm | Buried Alive | “They’re not breathing!”

No. 26: “Sometimes I get so tired; I don’t even know myself.”

Seeing Double | Working To Exhaustion | “You look awful.”

No. 27: “You drew stars around my scars; But now I’m bleeding.”

Matches | Scars | “Let me see”

No. 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now.”

Bloody Knife | Sacrifice | “You'll have to go through me.”

No. 29: “I only sink deeper the deeper I think.”

Scented Candle | Troubled Past Resurfacing | “What happened to me?”

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Borrowed Clothing | Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

No. 31: “I thought that I was getting better.”

Emptiness | Setbacks | “Take it easy.”

Alternatives List:

Betrayal

Aftermath of Failure

Brass Knuckles

Decoy

Body Modification

Playing Cards

Examination

Hunting

Drugging

Shaking

Panic

Broken

Miscommunication

Lab Rat

Reluctant Whumper

Event Info & Rules

~ Please read our extensive event info posts before sending us an ask ~

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. The 'theme' of each day is the line of lyrics.

The prompts are merely to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is "flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be related to the 'spark' of a relationship. It's truly up to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day: there's lyrics, an object, a trope and a line of dialogue to choose from.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:

#whumptober2023 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(day number)

#lyric, #bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#fandom or #OC, … (ironman, originalcontent, oc …)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #gore tw, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Add "tw" AFTER the trigger/content warning. )

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed the event. You do not need to post anything you have created, we rely on trust and we will not check this.

Questions not addressed in one of our many event info posts can be directed to this blog. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.

Frequently Asked Questions

Q. How does this year’s prompt list work? What do I have to choose?

You can create something based on:

The overall theme/lyric of the day

Prompt 1, 2 or 3

One or several of the alternative prompts

A combination of the above

Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?

When in doubt: JUST DO IT!

Q. Do I have to do all 31 days?

Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.7, #radio silence). If you create works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.

Q. Can I post early/late?

Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.

Q. Will you reblog my post?

Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:

tag your post properly

post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards.

Q. What if I don’t understand a prompt/theme?

Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation. Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.

Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?

This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe.

Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?

Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?

Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle.

Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?

Yes.

Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?

If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If you’ve previously posted something that checks the boxes, we ask that you not include it retroactively for this current year. You can, however, add new chapters relating to one or more of the prompts.

Q. What kind of characters can I write for?

Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, RPF, whoever you like. You can use the generic “whumpee” character or have specific ones.

Q. Does it have to take place in a specific fandom?

No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want.

Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?

Yes, but it only counts once towards being a completionist.

Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?

No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice.

Q. Where can I post my work?

Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive.

Q. Can I start posting early?

You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.

Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s?

Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  

Q. Is co-writing allowed?

Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you.

Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?

One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)

Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?

There is no limit.

Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?

No limit and combine as many as you’d like.

Q. Is a hc/angst/emotional whump focus ok?

Of course! We are not going to establish a threshold for whumpiness. If you think it’s whumpy enough, then it’s whumpy enough. It can be physical, psychological, emotional, or any combination of the three.

Q. What’s considered nsfw?

See this post

Q. What is whump?

Typically the genre includes situations where a fictional character is hurt, be it emotionally, psychologically, or physically. Fanlore provides information here.

Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?

If you don’t think your interpretation is whumpy, then it doesn’t count for Whumptober. Remember that whump comes in many forms, though, and that we don’t have a whump-checker or a threshold for how much whump needs to be included. If you think your interpretation contains enough whump to count, then it does.

Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?

Absolutely! That’s why we post the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start creating early!

Q. How do I tag triggers?

tw at the end of the word, ex. #gore tw

Q. Do I have to use your tags?

Yes, if you want your work archived on the blog. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want. 

Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?

Yes

Q. Can we @ you?

Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2023 tag.

Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?

There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).

Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?

Here on Discord or come into our ask box.

Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?

Yes, but as with everything else, use clear and descriptive tags.

Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?

Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.

Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).

Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!

[rosyblooom]

all u need is a platform x | ln4 smau

PAIRING: lando norris x fem love island contestant!reader SUMMARY: y/n makes a one-off comment about lando norris being her type in a confessional, and the internet rolls with it all the way to lando norris' twitch stream. A/N: just bc i love me some love island 😌

Love Island UK

Twittter

Twitch

Twitter

Instagram

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, yourfriend and 105,830 others

yourusername alright guys, public voting is open! go, go, go!! make sure to vote for the person you want off your screens, so don't vote for y/n!!! tell your friends, family, everyone! we don't wanna see our girl go home anytime soon!! thanks u guys 🥰🥰

#LoveIsland

view all 2,956 comments

username she's one of my favourite islanders🫶 stunning girl

landonorris so if we vote for her she comes OUT you say?👀

yourusername don't you dare🤣 username LMAOO LANDO U BETTER NOT SABOTAGE💀💀

username ugh she's so annoying she needs to stfu🙄 hope she goes home on friday

username he's in the likes👀 ohhh the show's just getting started I see🍿

username I've voted babes! (not y/n of course)

(liked by author)

username I'm sry but I'm gonna have to vote for my girl y/n BUT HEAR ME OUT it's bc there's a better man by the name of lando out here for her I think 😃

username sooo valid (I'm doing the same lmao) landonorris 😊 yourusername uhm- you guys😭😭

Twitter

Love Island UK

Twitter

Instagram

loveisland

liked by yourbestfriend, _jackfowler_, landonorris and 176,488 others

loveisland The public has voted, and that means goodbye to this firecracker! 🧨👋 By the looks of it, it seems Y/N might not need to do much searching for fish in the sea though... 👀

view all 3,582 comments

username ok lando pack it up, jack fowler is in the likes😩

username ugh jack is so fine🫦 username LMAO NOT TOO MUCH ON MY BBY LANDO NOW😭

landonorris 🐠

username lmaooo ENOUGH username help he's so real😭

username finally the bitch is gone

username uhm... chile anyways so

username ppl need to stop putting her up there with maura, amber and the lot cause she's absolutely nowhere close bffr. I rlly don't see the hype🙄

username she's literally the first to break 1 million followers lmao the hype is very much alive even if u don't wanna see it😌 username yeah and how many of those are lando fans hm? exactly username oooh u sound bitter babe xx

username lando and y/n better freaking date soon tho cause if I find out this was all in vain I'm literally gonna flip😭

Twitter

Instagram

thesun

liked by username, username, username and 46,037 others

tagged: landonorris, yourusername

thesun Popular ex-Love Island contestant, Y/N L/N, has arrived in the UK to a warm welcome at Heathrow Airport, where she was greeted by family, friends, and a horde of fans.

Speculation about a potential romance between her and the famous F1 driver, Lando Norris, has been rife on the internet for the past few weeks. Many believe this could be the reason for her sudden dumping from the island, as fans allegedly orchestrated her exit in hopes of pairing the two together.

view all 1,028 comments

username lando can do so much better than some trashy reality tv star 😑

username i got a pic with her!! she was such a sweetheart❤️

username im so excitedddd omg

username let's see what happens now then...😁

username 👀👀

username omg why are ppl still talking about her smh

username i voted for her so it better pay off🙏 i'm looking at u lando

username me and you both 🤝

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: i'm backkk ] [ caption 2: cake bc there's 1.5 million of u guys here😭 AHHH TYSM 🫶🫶 ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, landonorris, _jackfowler_ and 220,748 others

yourusername back in essex and straight to catching up with my lovelies xxx

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yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: don't need ur shoulders, just ur arms and car 😌 ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

f1gossipofficial

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f1gossipofficial Lando Norris has been spotted once again in the company of ex-Love Island contestant Y/N L/N, marking the fourth time in the past month the pair has been seen together in London. This time, fans observed them enjoying dinner together, appearing particularly close as they laughed and had their arms around each other.

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Twitter

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yourusername

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tagged: landonorris

yourusername thank u love island 🤭

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1:06 ──ㅇ────────── 4:11

[fans4wga]

September 25: Read the WGA's email to its membership

[ID: tweet from Adam Conover @/adamconover that says, "We did it. We have a tentative deal. Over the coming days, we'll discuss and vote on it, together, as a democratic union. But today, I want to thank every single WGA member, and every fellow worker who stood with us in solidarity. You made this possible. Thank you. #WGAStrong".

Attached is a screenshot of the first part of the WGA's recent email to its membership. Conover's next tweet says, "Here's the rest of our email to members, which details what happens next:" with the rest of the email attached in screenshots.

Transcript of the WGA's email to its membership:

DEAR MEMBERS,

We have reached a tentative agreement on a new 2023 MBA, which is to say an agreement in principle on all deal points, subject to drafting final contract language.

What we have won in this contract — most particularly, everything we have gained since May 2nd — is due to the willingness of this membership to exercise its power, to demonstrate its solidarity, to walk side-by-side, to endure the pain and uncertainty of the past 146 days. It is the leverage generated by your strike, in concert with the extraordinary support of our union siblings, that finally brought the companies back to the table to make a deal.

We can say, with great pride, that this deal is exceptional — with meaningful gains and protections for writers in every sector of the membership.

What remains now is for our staff to make sure everything we have agreed to is codified in final contract language. And though we are eager to share the details of what has been achieved with you, we cannot do that until the last "i" is dotted. To do so would complicate our ability to finish the job. So, as you have been patient with us before, we ask you to be patient again — one last time.

Once the Memorandum of Agreement with the AMPTP is complete, the Negotiating Committee will vote on whether to recommend the agreement and send it on to the WGAW Board and WGAE Council for approval. The Board and Council will then vote on whether to authorize a contract ratification vote by the membership.

If that authorization is approved, the Board and Council would also vote on whether to lift the restraining order and end the strike at a certain date and time (to be determined) pending ratification. This would allow writers to return to work during the ratification vote, but would not affect the membership's rights to make a final determination on contract approval.

Immediately after those leadership votes, which are tentatively scheduled for Tuesday if the language is settled, we will provide a comprehensive summary of the deal points and the Memorandum of Agreement. We will also convene meetings where members will have the opportunity to learn more about and assess the deal before voting on ratification.

To be clear, no one is to return to work until specifically authorized to by the Guild. We are still on strike until then. But we are, as of today, suspending WGA picketing. Instead, if you are able, we encourage you to join the SAG-AFTRA picket lines this week.

Finally, we appreciated your patience as you waited for news from us — and had to fend off rumors — during the last few days of the negotiation. Please wait for further information from the Guild. We will have more to share with you in the coming days, as we finalize the contract language and go through our unions' processes.

As always, thank you for your support. You will hear from us again very soon.

In solidarity,

WGA NEGOTIATING COMMITTEE

[svt-luna]

let me start by saying I absolutely love your creativity and story telling! Your Luna pieces are so refreshing and I look forward to reading them!!

We have seen a jealous Jeonghan, and I was hoping we could see the jealous side of Luna. As much as I love an unbothered queen, I think it would be interesting to see how she would react in a jealousy situation.

𝜗℘ THE BOY IS MINE

❛ 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘶𝘱, ���𝘢𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘪'𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦— 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. ❜

timeline: 2023

synopsis: In the city of love, Luna finally snaps and learns just how far she’ll go to protect what’s hers.

warnings: 18+ mdni, mature content, sexual content, smut, cursing, possessive!Luna, angry!Luna, Luna’s self-conflicting thoughts, sexual tension, flirting, subtle innuendos, alcohol consumption, kisses!, pet names, piv sex, unprotected sex (girly pop is on birth control), teasing, dirty talk, dry humping, riding, degradation, edging, Jeonghan the menace, Jeonghan’s desire to be possessed, lowkey toxic, a little bit of a red flag for the both of them, they are both freaky af, pure filth!

thank you so so much for loving my works! also, thank you for requesting this, i absolutely fell in love with this idea— i have also been getting a lot of possessive!Luna and angry!Luna requests so i have mixed all of those ideas here. plus, you guys voted for a smut for this one on my last poll… so here it is! so i hope you lovely humans enjoy it!!

‘freak like me, you wanna good girl that does bad things to you.’ that reminds me of them.

Disclaimer: The following chapter contains explicit sexual content and mature themes. It is intended for adult readers only. If you are under the legal age or find these subjects uncomfortable, it is advised for you to refrain from reading further. Reader discretion is strongly advised.

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

There was a quiet shadow that hovered over Luna.

It had been there for as long as she could remember— silent, unseen by others, but always present. It wasn’t something she could simply brush away or ignore, no matter how much she tried.

At first, it had confused her, this weight that pressed down on her chest, something that tugged at her insides, tightening like a vine when certain people or situations crossed her path. But over the years, she had learned to understand it, control it, and accept it as a part of her personality.

It wasn’t something to fear— just a quiet burden she had grown used to carrying.

Luna remembers the first time she noticed that quiet shadow.

She was seven years old, back in Kensington, London. Her memories of that time are vivid— her mom, graceful and elegant, the very image of a ballerina, guiding her students with precision and patience. Luna’s mom had once been a professional ballerina, but after an injury ended her dancing career, she became a ballet teacher, molding the next generation of dancers.

She was who Luna aspired to be, her biggest inspiration. Luna loved ballet because of her mom. It was her way of connecting with the person she admired most, the person she wanted to be like— this was before music had stolen her heart before she dreamed of stages and lights and becoming an idol.

One day, during one of their ballet classes, Luna sat at the edge of the dance floor, her small hands gripping the bar as she watched her mom in the middle of the studio. Her mother was focused, and poised, her sharp eyes tracing the movements of each student as they worked through their routine. But that day, her attention was particularly fixed on one new student— Mila.

Mila was good. Even Luna had to admit that. Her lines were sharp, her movements fluid in a way that most of the other girls in the class couldn’t quite replicate.

Luna’s mom corrected her form, praised her posture, and used her as an example for the rest of the class. She wasn’t biased— Luna’s mom would never show favoritism just because Luna was her daughter. She was a professional, and Luna understood that, even at seven.

Luna didn’t expect her mom to treat her differently from the other students, nor did she want her to. She wanted to earn her mother’s praise the same way everyone else did.

And yet, something about that day sat uncomfortably with her. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t even jealous that Mila was getting all of her mom’s attention.

Luna understood why.

Mila deserved the praise. She was graceful and talented. It made sense that her mom would focus on her. Luna could see that clearly.

But what bothered her was how Mila seemed to cling to her mom, how she wouldn’t leave her side after class ended. She followed her, asking questions, seeking more help with this step or that turn.

It wasn’t the attention itself that made Luna’s heart twist— after all, her mom was the teacher. It was her job to help the students.

Luna understood that, too.

But then, Mila had called her “Mom.”

That was the moment Luna met the shadow.

The quiet shadow that curled inside her, wrapping around her chest like a creeping vine, tightening, making her feel… strange.

She wasn’t mad, not really.

She knew her mom was just doing her job. But hearing Mila call her “Mom” made something inside Luna snap, something she didn’t fully understand yet.

It wasn’t jealousy— it was something different, more deeper.

An anger she hadn’t known existed until that moment.

How dare she? How dare Mila try to claim something that wasn’t hers?

Luna sat there, frozen in place, watching as her mother gently corrected Mila’s posture, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside her daughter.

It was in that quiet moment, with Mila standing so close to her mom, that Luna realized she didn’t want to share.

Not her mother.

Not ever.

Luna remembered how ashamed she had felt for feeling that way.

Even as a child, it hadn’t made sense to her— this sudden, overwhelming wave of anger that had no real direction, no clear target.

It was Mila, but it wasn’t Mila’s fault.

It was her mother, but her mother had done nothing wrong.

The feeling that had curled up in her chest was irrational, something she couldn’t place, and she hadn’t liked it.

Not at all.

Luna hadn’t understood it at the time, but the way it made her skin prickle and her stomach tighten was something she wanted to forget.

She had ignored it, pushing it down deep where she wouldn’t have to face it, wouldn’t have to explain it to herself.

Because how could she? How could she explain a feeling so ugly, so selfish?

She had done nothing about it that day. She had simply sat there, forcing a smile when her mom looked over, her small hands clenched into fists behind her back as she tried to shake off the knot in her throat. And she had told herself it was a one-time thing.

Just a bad day.

She thought she had been tired, maybe hungry, even sick— anything to explain away the strange feelings she couldn’t put words to.

That was it, Luna had thought. She was just having a bad day, and the odd tension in her chest would pass by tomorrow.

But it hadn’t.

Every now and then, when Luna least expected it, that quiet shadow would resurface.

It wasn’t constant— thankfully, it wasn’t something she had to deal with every day. But every once in a while, when someone tried to take or claim something that was hers, the feeling would crawl back into her mind, winding itself around her thoughts like it had all those years ago.

It was subtle and quiet in a way that made it easy to dismiss, but it was there.

Luna could feel it, simmering just beneath the surface.

It could be small things— someone borrowing her Barbie doll without asking or someone stealing her answers in school. Or it could be bigger moments, like when she noticed a friend growing too close to someone she cared about, or when someone new joined a group and immediately seemed to click with people she had known for years.

The feelings were rare, but they came.

And when they did, Luna would find herself reacting in the same way.

She would feel her face flush, red creeping up her neck, and a tightness would settle in her chest. Her gaze would harden, and she’d find herself glaring before she could even stop herself. Her eyes would burn, locking onto the person who had unknowingly triggered that shadow to stir.

But she never did anything about it.

Never once.

Luna was good at brushing it off, pretending it didn’t matter because she knew better. She was logical, rational. She prided herself on being someone who didn’t let her emotions control her. So she never let it show, never let it become something more than a fleeting thought.

Her mind would scream, her heart would pound, but outwardly, she remained composed.

Calm.

Luna never let herself act on it, because she was a good person.

She didn’t lash out, didn’t make a scene, especially not for something so petty. She told herself that it was her problem, not theirs. No one else seemed to notice these things— no one else saw a threat where she did.

It was all in her head, this quiet burden that only she carried.

However, there was only one person in existence who ever seemed to notice this shadow that clung to her, silent and unyielding.

And that was none other than Yoon Jeonghan.

Jeonghan had always been exceptionally good at reading people, an uncanny talent for seeing beyond the surface.

With Luna, though, it was different— he didn’t just read her, he understood her in a way that made her both comforted and unnerved.

He never asked too many questions, never pried, but the way he looked at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking, was something she could never quite shake.

It was during her trainee days at PLEDIS when Luna first realized just how much Jeonghan could see her— really see her.

She was sixteen, and the bright green walls of the infamous training room, known as the ‘Melona Prison,’ loomed around her and the rest of the trainees.

Boys and girls, all in their teens, filled the space, their laughter and chatter bouncing off the mirrored walls. It was another long day of practice, but as usual, they managed to steal moments to goof around, to release the tension building up from endless hours of training.

Jeonghan had been her closest friend back then.

Her best friend.

And she was his.

They were inseparable, the two of them gravitating toward each other with an ease that made everyone else assume they had known each other for years, when in reality, they had only met a few months prior.

Jeonghan had always been Luna’s safe place, the one person who could coax a laugh out of her even when she felt like she was drowning in exhaustion.

But on that particular day, Luna felt something stir inside her, something familiar yet unwanted.

She was sitting against the wall, catching her breath while the others horsed around, when her eyes drifted toward the far corner of the room.

There, Jeonghan stood, his back to her, talking to one of the female trainees— Seoyeon. They were close— closer than Luna liked, though she told herself it didn’t matter.

Jeonghan was charismatic, naturally friendly with everyone, and she had no reason— no right— to feel anything but indifference toward the scene playing out before her.

And yet.

Luna’s gaze sharpened when she saw him lean down, his hand coming up to playfully squeeze Seoyeon’s cheeks. She watched as the girl laughed, a bright, carefree sound that seemed to cut through the room. Jeonghan grinned at her, the way he always did, that smile of his that could disarm anyone in seconds.

Luna felt it again.

That tightening in her chest. The heat rushing to her face. Her hands curled into fists on her lap, her knuckles turning white as she stared at them.

She wasn’t mad.

She wasn’t jealous.

She had no reason to be.

Jeonghan was her best friend, and she knew how he was.

He wasn’t doing anything wrong.

And the trainee— she was just enjoying his attention.

Luna understood.

She understood perfectly well.

But why, then, was she so angry?

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked toward her then, catching her in her quiet storm. His gaze lingered on her for just a second too long before a grin spread across his face.

It didn’t even take him a moment to read her— he had known instantly, like he always did.

Leaving Seoyeon, Jeonghan strolled over to where Luna sat, his expression lazy, amused. He dropped down beside her without a word, his shoulder brushing against hers, and with that same teasing smirk, he reached out and squeezed her cheeks just like he had done to Seoyeon.

“Nana-ya,” he sang in that lilting, sing-song voice of his, his eyes twinkling with that hidden understanding that made Luna’s heart stop for a moment.

That’s when it clicked.

After years of brushing off that quiet shadow, after years of pretending it didn’t exist, Luna finally understood.

She had met this shadow before, but it wasn’t until now— until this exact moment, with Jeonghan sitting next to her, arm slung lazily around her shoulders— that she realized what it was.

Luna wasn’t jealous.

She had never been jealous.

As she sat there, Jeonghan’s presence steady beside her, watching the other trainees continue to fool around, Luna’s mind whirred with realization.

Luna didn’t want to be Seoyeon, just like she hadn’t wanted to be Mila all those years ago. She had no desire to trade places with them, to be in their shoes.

That wasn’t the problem at all.

No, what bothered her— what had always bothered her— was seeing someone else take what was hers. Watching them try to claim something that belonged to her, something she held dear.

It wasn’t envy.

It was never about wanting what someone else had.

It was about protecting what was already hers.

Jeonghan gave her a knowing glance, his arm tightening slightly around her shoulders, and that was all it took.

In that moment, Luna understood.

The shadow she had known since she was a child wasn’t jealousy.

Jealousy was wanting something that wasn’t yours.

Possessiveness, however, was not wanting anyone to take what already belonged to you.

And Luna was possessive.

If jealousy is an ugly green friend, Luna’s friend was possessiveness, a quiet shadow, always hovering close, guarding fiercely and pulling tightly at whatever it holds dear.

Possessiveness.

The word tasted bitter in Luna’s mind, like something dark and twisted that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.

She despised it.

Even the sound of it in her thoughts made her skin crawl.

Possess.

It was a word meant for things— objects, items you could hold, keep, or claim as your own.

But not people.

People weren’t possessions.

They weren’t things you could control, own, or dictate.

And yet, she felt it— deeply.

From time to time, that ugly shadow would wrap its fingers around her chest, tightening with every breath until she felt suffocated by it.

It was a feeling she had grown to hate.

Luna didn’t want to possess anyone.

She never wanted to be the kind of person who clung to someone so tightly that it hurt.

People weren’t objects to own. They had their own lives, their own choices, their own freedom. And yet, the shadow— her shadow— didn’t care about that. It didn’t care about logic or reason. It only cared about keeping what was hers close, about holding on so fiercely that no one else could ever take it away.

Luna hated it.

She found it toxic, the way it crept up on her, curling around her like smoke, impossible to escape. There were moments when the feeling would rise up in her chest like a wave, threatening to crash over everything she held dear.

But Luna always fought it. She had to.

She would remind herself that this wasn’t who she wanted to be, that people were not things to be controlled or claimed. Every time that feeling surfaced, she forced herself to ground it, to bury it deep inside where it couldn’t reach anyone else.

It was her burden to bear.

Even now, sitting in that green training room, the feeling flickered in her veins like an old, unwelcome memory.

Luna could feel it watching her, that quiet shadow, as Jeonghan laughed with someone else, as his hand touched someone else.

But she didn’t act on it. She never did. What would be the point?

Jeonghan wasn’t hers, not in the way that word implied. He was her best friend, sure, but she had no claim over him. No right to feel this way. So, she ignored it. She always did. She let the feeling settle somewhere in her chest, a familiar ache she was used to managing.

But deep down, Luna knew she couldn’t control when it would show up. And every time it did, she made sure to ground herself, to force herself not to react. To breathe through it until the feeling passed.

She never wanted to be ruled by it.

Luna glanced at Jeonghan, still sitting beside her, his arm draped lazily over her shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His warmth was steady and reassuring, but it was also a reminder— a reminder of the one person who could make her feel this way.

Jeonghan had always been the one who stirred something different in her, something she couldn’t quite explain. He was her closest friend, yes, but he was also the person who made her feel like this shadow had more power than it should.

And unbeknownst to sixteen-year-old Luna, at that very moment, the person who would make her feel the weight of this shadow more than anyone else for more years to come was sitting right next to her.

Yoon Jeonghan.

It was him.

It had always been him.

Jeonghan was Jeonghan.

There was something undeniable about him, something that people couldn’t help but notice.

He had the look— handsome in that effortless way that didn’t need to be flaunted. But “handsome” didn’t even cover it.

No, Jeonghan wasn’t just handsome.

He was beautiful.

Strikingly, impossibly beautiful.

His features were delicate but sharp, almost ethereal in a way that made Luna think, God, he’s beautiful every time she looked at him. But that wasn’t what made him special.

Jeonghan’s beauty was simply the surface of something much deeper.

He was naturally easy to be with. Effortless. Comfortable. People gravitated toward him, not just because of how he looked but because of how he made them feel. Jeonghan had a way of making anyone feel seecn like they mattered, like they were worth his time. He was charming, of course, but it was never forced. It was natural, something that seemed to come from him without any effort.

People just liked him, and it was no mystery why.

From their teen years in the cramped, fluorescent-lit practice rooms of PLEDIS to the bright lights of concert stages, from the endless hours of rehearsals to the long nights of sleepless training, Jeonghan had always been Jeonghan.

Their friendship had blossomed during those years, starting as something simple, easy, and natural. And from their trainee days to their debut, to their lives as successful idols, it had been the same.

The bond between them grew and deepened. The long hours spent together, the shared struggles and triumphs, the quiet moments in between it all— it was like they were always meant to find each other.

It had been gradual, a quiet blossoming from friendship into something more. It wasn’t a sudden realization for Luna. It was more like the slow unveiling of something that had been there all along, something neither of them had fully acknowledged until it became impossible to ignore.

And throughout it all, there was that strange feeling, the shadow lurking at the edges of her awareness.

Luna’s possessiveness.

Surprisingly, she realized early on that it didn’t apply to the members of SEVENTEEN, and thank God for that. When it came to them, Luna felt nothing but warmth, affection, and camaraderie. The idea of being possessive over her members felt absurd. They were family, an extension of herself in so many ways. She never minded when they were close with Jeonghan, never minded when they teased or hugged him.

And thankfully, it didn’t apply to the fans either. SEVENTEEN’s fans adored Jeonghan— of course they did. They loved him with a fervor that could only be described as awe-inspiring. And yet, when it came to them, that shadow never reared its head.

Luna felt nothing but gratitude toward them. In a way, they shared Jeonghan, all of them basking in the warmth of his presence, and that was fine.

It never bothered her.

For a long time, Luna thought maybe that strange feeling had disappeared altogether like she had outgrown it— an awkward teenage phase she’d left behind. She thought maybe she had matured, evolved past that irrational emotion, and put it to rest.

Until it showed up again.

And it was always because of Jeonghan.

It always was.

Luna realized, as time went on, that the possessiveness wasn’t something she’d outgrown.

It was just lying in wait, dormant, until the right circumstances stirred it back to life. And those circumstances always revolved around Yoon Jeonghan.

Even before they were officially together, Luna would noticed it.

Little moments that seemed harmless on the surface, but made that old familiar feeling stir within her chest. New staff members, stylists, random people who crossed their paths— everyone seemed to be drawn to Yoon Jeonghan like a magnet.

Luna would watch it happen, time and time again, seeing the way people gravitated toward him, and how they lit up when he flashed that effortless smile.

And each time, that shadow would bloom out of thin air, wrapping its fingers around her tightly.

It would start in her chest, a subtle tightening she tried to ignore. But then, she’d feel her face flush, heat creeping up her neck, and her hands would ball into fists in her lap. Her jaw would clench, and that sharp glare would settle in her eyes. She would sit there, watching, fighting the urge to do anything about it, because what could she do?

It wasn’t like Jeonghan was doing anything wrong.

He was just being Jeonghan.

But every time someone flirted with him— especially when it was right in front of her— that shadow flared, dark and consuming.

And it only got worse once they were officially together.

Once Jeonghan became hers in the way that mattered, the possessiveness grew more potent, more intense.

Luna had always prided herself on being rational, on keeping her emotions in check. But when it came to Jeonghan, there were moments when that possessiveness felt like it might consume her whole.

It wasn’t the members. She was perfectly fine with them. They were family. She trusted them with everything, including Jeonghan. And the fans— she never felt threatened by their love for him. They were a part of their lives, an integral part, and she shared in their adoration of him.

But when it came to other people— people who didn’t know him like she did, people who only saw him as that beautiful, charming idol— Luna could feel that shadow rise up in her like a wave, ready to crash down and smother everything in its path.

The new staff who whispered about him, the random stylist with a too-long gaze, the brief interactions with people who clearly had crushes on him— it all drove her insane.

And Jeonghan… Jeonghan, being the person he was, didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he did notice, and he simply didn’t care. He’d smile that lazy, mischievous smile, charm them without even meaning to, and Luna would sit there, her blood simmering beneath the surface.

Luna hated it.

She hated the way it made her feel, the way her emotions spiraled out of control when it came to him.

Because it wasn’t jealousy. No, it was never jealousy. Jealousy was wanting something that wasn’t yours. Luna didn’t want what she didn’t have.

She just didn’t want anyone else to have what was already hers.

When other people gawked at Jeonghan, whispered about him, had crushes on him, and flirted with him—especially when she was right there— Luna felt like she could lose it.

The shadow inside her, that friend she’d grown so familiar with, would flare to life, ready to guard what was hers, to protect it fiercely from anyone who dared come too close.

She wasn’t jealous. She was possessive. And there was a difference.

Jeonghan was hers, and no one else’s.

Luna hated thinking this way.

She despised the possessiveness that clawed at her insides, wrapping around her chest like a vice, making it hard to breathe.

It wasn’t who she wanted to be.

She didn’t want to be the kind of person who felt like she had to hold onto someone so tightly as if they might slip away if she let go for even a second.

People weren’t possessions, least of all Jeonghan. She knew that. She reminded herself of it constantly. He’s not an object. He’s not your property.

But despite her best efforts, that gnawing feeling never truly left.

Every time someone got too close to Jeonghan, every time someone lingered in conversation with him a little too long, every time eyes wandered over his beautiful face and easy smile, Luna felt it stir again. And God, she hated it. She hated that it made her feel this way, irrational and out of control.

And yet, no matter how hard Luna tried to mask it, to suppress it, she could tell— Jeonghan could tell.

Jeonghan always knew.

He could read her like a book, his favorite book, in fact.

Luna could see it in the way his eyes would find hers when she was glaring at whoever had decided to flirt with him.

He never looked surprised or confused. No, Jeonghan knew exactly what she was feeling, and even more, he enjoyed it.

That was the thing about Jeonghan.

He was a mischievous tease to the core, always playing around with people, always stirring up trouble just to see what would happen. He enjoyed the chase, the thrill, the challenge.

And Luna? She was his favorite challenge.

Of course, Jeonghan wasn’t doing it on purpose— not in the way that would hurt her.

He wasn’t cruel— he loves her too much.

He would never actually flirt with someone else to provoke her or make her feel insecure. He wouldn’t do that to her, and Luna knew that deep down. But there was something about the way he reveled in her possessiveness, in the way she reacted to it, that made her blood boil even more.

Whenever that familiar tension rose between them, whenever she was on the verge of snapping, Jeonghan would always, without fail, baby her. He’d get more clingy, more affectionate, more of a tease as if he was purposefully testing her limits. His voice would drop into that soft, teasing tone, laced with a kind of condescending flirtation that only he could pull off.

He’d speak in that sing-song voice he reserved just for her, leaning in close with a playful grin, the words dripping with an infuriating sweetness that made her want to both kiss him and strangle him at the same time.

“Aww, is someone getting a little upset, hm? You know there’s no need for that, pretty girl,” he’d coo, the endearment rolling off his tongue like honey.

Or worse: “What’s the matter? You know you don’t have to worry, baby. No one else could ever take me from you,” he’d say, leaning in even closer, his breath warm against her ear, his tone dipping lower. “Only you, baby.”

And then there was the one that always pushed her the hardest, the one that made her breath catch in her throat every time: “You look so cute when you’re mad, you know that? Like a little kitten, all puffed up. What are you going to do about it, hmm? Just glare at me all day?”

Luna’s glare was sharp, piercing through the teasing words that dripped from Jeonghan’s mouth. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, the familiar flush of frustration mingled with that damned possessiveness.

His words always had a way of igniting something deep within her, something she despised but couldn’t fully control.

Jeonghan, of course, noticed. He always did.

He leaned down, his lips still curled into that maddeningly soft smile, one hand reaching out to cup the back of her neck. His fingers were warm, and the touch, though gentle, sent a shiver down her spine. He held her there, not tightly, but just enough to make her feel trapped in that moment, in his presence.

Jeonghan nudged his nose against hers, brushing their foreheads together as he tilted his head. His voice dropped to that low, teasing tone that he knew got under her skin. “My moon,” he murmured, his breath fanning across her lips, “you know I’d never get taken from you, right?”

His thumb stroked lightly at the base of her neck, his grip softening as if lulling her into a sense of security. “They’d have to drag me away kicking and screaming.” His lips were so close now, almost brushing against hers, his gaze locking onto her eyes, studying the irritation simmering in them, the way her lips twitched like she was fighting back a snarl.

But there was that underlying tone again, that subtle challenge woven into his words, as though he was daring her to act, daring her to stop pretending she could ignore it. He leaned in just a fraction more, his lips ghosting against hers without quite closing the distance.

“No one can compare to you, baby,” His voice lowered even more, a whisper now, intimate, taunting. “You should show them that, hmm?”

The words hung in the air between them, a gauntlet thrown at her feet. His fingers tightened ever so slightly on her neck, not forceful, but just enough to remind her of his presence, of the fact that he was right there, within reach, hers to hold onto if she wanted.

His eyes gleamed with that familiar mischievous spark, the one that always set her on edge. “What’s it going to be, Nana-ya? Are you just going to keep glaring at me?” His voice softened, but the challenge lingered. “Or are you going to show them?”

The way he said it, like a coo, like a teasing dare, made her blood simmer even more. He was pushing her, testing her limits again, and he knew it. He was always so sure of himself, so confident that no matter how hard she tried to keep her composure, he could make her unravel.

There was always that underlying tone in his voice, that unspoken dare woven into his words like he was tempting her— pushing her to do something about it.

No, scratch that… Jeonghan wanted her to do something about it.

He was daring her to let that possessiveness out, to stop holding back, to give in to the anger simmering beneath the surface.

And Luna hated how much she wanted to. She hated that part of her wanted to rise to his challenge, to make it clear to everyone that Jeonghan was hers and hers alone.

But she never did.

Instead, she would just glare at him, her eyes narrowing into sharp slits, her fists tightening at her sides as she fought the urge to snap. She’d take a deep breath, then another, and force herself to look away, to move on, to push the emotions back down where they belonged. She refused to give in to it, no matter how much Jeonghan taunted her, no matter how much his teasing made her want to lose control.

She never let it take over.

Jeonghan knew this about her, though. He could see through her every time, peeling back the layers of her composure with a single glance. She thought she was doing a good job of keeping it together, of staying calm, but Jeonghan could always tell what was really going on beneath the surface. He knew exactly what she was feeling, and he knew, too, that she wasn’t going to act on it.

Not yet, at least.

And that amused him.

Unbeknownst to Luna, Jeonghan enjoyed the game just as much as she feared it.

He found her possessiveness endearing, almost charming in a way, because it was so unlike her usual composed self. It was a side of her that only he got to see, a raw vulnerability that she kept hidden from the rest of the world.

And Jeonghan, with his sly smile and ever-calculating mind, wanted her to act on it.

He wanted to see what would happen if she let go if she stopped holding back and let that fiery possessiveness take over. He wasn’t afraid of it; in fact, he reveled in it. He knew how much it frustrated her, how hard she worked to keep it in check, and it thrilled him to push her just enough to see her struggle with it.

Because Jeonghan always got what he wanted in the end.

Always.

And what he wanted was for Luna to stop fighting it.

Jeonghan wanted her to let go, to show him how much she cared, how much she hated seeing other people fawn over him, how much she wanted to claim him in front of everyone.

He knew she could do it, and he was going to get her there.

He always did.

Then, Jeonghan finally got his way.

It finally happened in Paris, of all places.

Jeonghan always knew how to push her buttons, but Luna had never truly snapped before. She always found a way to hold it together, to remind herself that he was his own person, that she couldn’t— shouldn’t— be so possessive.

But Paris, with its old-world charm, its elegant streets and glittering lights, became the stage where everything came undone.

They had flown out for Fashion Week 2023, the pinnacle of their already busy schedules. Jeonghan, being the brand ambassador for Yves Saint Laurent, was the centerpiece of their show, while Luna, as Miu Miu’s ambassador, would be attending their event.

Their schedules aligned but diverged, each pulled into their separate orbits by the fashion world’s demands.

Everything had been normal up until that point.

Well, as normal as it could be for two idols navigating the storm of fame, fashion, and flashing cameras.

The flight to Paris had been peaceful. The two of them sat side by side, hidden behind the anonymity of first-class curtains, though they didn’t really talk much— both too absorbed in resting in preparation for their individual roles in the whirlwind that was Fashion Week. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a sense of routine, of being used to this kind of life.

When they landed, they were whisked away to separate fittings— Jeonghan heading toward the sleek, moody atmosphere of YSL’s atelier, while Luna was surrounded by the playful and elegant charm of Miu Miu.

They had exchanged texts throughout the day— small updates about their schedules, complaints about too-tight shoes, or a particularly exhausting interview, but they hadn’t seen each other much. The demands of Fashion Week were relentless, pulling them in different directions.

The day of Jeonghan’s YSL show came first. Luna didn’t attend— she was in the middle of her own preparations for Miu Miu—but she saw the photos. Jeonghan looked breathtaking, dressed in sleek black, with sharp lines and an effortless cool that sent waves through the fashion world.

The press and fans fawned over him and so did Luna.

Then came her own day— Miu Miu’s show. It was an entirely different vibe from YSL, more playful and eclectic, but Luna shone just as brightly. She reveled in the attention for a moment, feeling the pride that came with representing such a prestigious brand. But the busyness of it all kept them from each other again, just fleeting texts exchanged between interviews and fittings, always running parallel but never quite crossing paths.

Once their obligations were done, they finally had a few days off together. That was when they started playing tourist, doing all the things they rarely got to enjoy because of their packed schedules. Mornings were filled with museum visits— Louvre, Musée d’Orsay, and even the quirky and vibrant Centre Pompidou. They took photos for each other, snapping candid shots for their fans to see later, knowing these moments would end up on SEVENTEEN’s YouTube channel as part of their SEVENTEEN Records series.

Luna still remembered the way Jeonghan would lean into her as they walked through the narrow Parisian streets, his breath tickling her ear as he made quiet jokes, teasing her about how her coat looked too big for her— “You’re being swallowed whole, baby.” She had shoved him lightly, laughing at his antics, but the warmth between them was undeniable.

They were just two people, away from the madness of their lives for a while, enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

Afternoons were spent shopping in the chic boutiques of Le Marais, where they wandered hand in hand, occasionally separating to browse different sections, only to reconvene with secret smiles and a few more bags to carry.

They tried on clothes, Luna teasing Jeonghan when he lingered too long in front of the mirror, and he returned the favor by commenting on how she had too many shoes already— though that didn’t stop him from buying her another pair.

It had been peaceful— normal, even— and for a moment, Luna thought that maybe she’d outgrown that old possessiveness. That shadow of possessiveness that once lingered at the edge of her thoughts felt distant. It seemed like an awkward phase she had passed, something she could leave behind in her teenage years.

But she should have known better.

Luna had told herself that possessiveness was something she could overcome, that it was just a phase from when their relationship was new and uncertain.

But now, she realized how wrong she had been.

That shadow had never disappeared— it had simply been lying in wait, simmering under the surface, lingering in the quiet moments between them, waiting for just the right moment to break free.

And Jeonghan knew it, he had always known it. He wanted her to let it out, to snap, to show just how much she wanted to claim him, no matter who was watching.

And, of course, it would all happen here, in Paris— the city of romance, the city that demanded passion in all things.

Their dinner was planned at an upscale restaurant tucked away from the bustling streets. They had reserved a private room to avoid the scrutiny of prying eyes, to keep the illusion of their relationship hidden for just a bit longer.

It was rare for them to have such an intimate setting in public, without the watchful presence of managers or bodyguards. Just the two of them, free to be themselves, free to let their guards down.

As they stepped inside, heads turned immediately.

There was no fanfare, no cameras flashing or crowds gathering around, but Luna and Jeonghan commanded attention just by their presence.

Tall and slender, both of them had an air of sophistication mixed with the slightest edge of danger, as if they didn’t quite belong in the same world as everyone else.

Luna’s long, wavy, blonde hair fell loosely behind her, framing her sharp features, and she was dressed entirely in black. A fitted black top tucked neatly into a black mini-skirt, accentuated with a thick black belt, thigh-high black boots that hugged her legs perfectly, and a long black leather coat that gave her an almost ethereal, otherworldly aura. She looked like she had stepped out of a noir film, every detail perfectly curated.

Beside her, Jeonghan was equally striking, his shoulder-length black hair framing his face in soft waves. He wore a black top that clung to his lean frame, black pants that accentuated his long legs, and polished black boots that added an extra touch of elegance. His long, dark coat fell in gentle folds around him, moving with a grace that was almost hypnotic.

As they walked in, the soft murmur of conversation in the restaurant quieted. Eyes followed them, some openly staring, others trying to be more discreet but failing to hide their curiosity.

A few older patrons, French locals enjoying a quiet meal, looked at them with a kind of bewildered fascination, as if trying to place them in some distant memory. They didn’t know exactly who they were, but there was something unmistakably famous about the two of them.

Younger diners, however, recognized them immediately. A few phones came out, subtle but visible, snapping photos and recording videos, capturing this rare glimpse of Luna and Jeonghan together.

But they weren’t worried.

Their fans were used to seeing them together; they knew how close they were, how often they appeared in public side by side, laughing and touching, their bond evident to anyone who watched.

Some fans were convinced they were dating, while others chalked it up to an unbreakable friendship.

The truth, of course, was the former— a truth that Jeonghan and Luna kept carefully guarded, shared only with their family and the members of SEVENTEEN. They knew all too well how the media could twist things, and they preferred to keep their relationship a cherished secret, just for them.

Luna stepped up to the maître d’, her expression neutral, almost cold at first, as she spoke softly. “Bonsoir,” she greeted, her voice calm and polite, her French accent carefully practiced. “We have a reservation under Bae Jiyeon.”

The maître d’ nodded, checking his ledger, clearly aware of the weight these two held, even without their entourage. As he glanced up, Luna allowed a small smile to break through her composed facade, a warmth that contrasted sharply with her intense gaze, and Jeonghan’s hand slipped to her back, a gentle but firm touch as he leaned in, listening.

“Ah, yes, Mademoiselle Bae,” the maître d’ replied, his tone respectful. “Right this way, please.”

Jeonghan gave the man a brief smile, a subtle flash of charm that was both polite and distant, a glimpse of the man he was when the cameras were on him.

The staff and patrons continued to watch as they were led deeper into the restaurant, a quiet murmur of whispers trailing behind them. There was a low hum of intrigue from the older patrons, and the younger ones, who recognized them, clutched their phones tightly, capturing every second.

The maître d’ guided them down a softly lit hallway to a secluded area, hidden behind dark, ornate doors. He opened one with a flourish, gesturing for them to enter. “Your private dining room, just as you requested. I hope you both enjoy your evening.”

Luna offered him a soft nod. “Merci.”

With a final nod from Jeonghan, the maître d’ closed the door behind them, leaving them alone in the dimly lit room. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over the space, reflecting off the fine crystal glasses and polished silverware.

Luna settled into the plush velvet of the round booth, tucking her legs gracefully beneath the table as she took in the quiet ambiance around them. The dim lighting softened every edge, casting a warm, intimate glow over the room.

Jeonghan slid in beside her, his body close enough that she could feel his warmth without even touching. He stretched one arm along the back of the seat behind her, his hand resting on the cushion just inches from her shoulder, his fingers occasionally brushing the fabric of her coat as he settled in. It felt effortless, as if they belonged there, hidden away in their private world.

Luna picked up the leather-bound menu, her fingers running over the embossed gold lettering on the front before she opened it, eyes scanning the options. She was quickly absorbed in the list, flipping through each page with a quiet focus.

Jeonghan, however, didn’t even glance at his own menu. Instead, he leaned in, reading over her shoulder, his chin nearly brushing her temple as he followed her gaze.

“Not even going to look at your own?” she murmured, a playful hint in her voice as she kept her eyes on the page.

Jeonghan tilted his head, the hint of a smile curving his lips. “Why should I? I trust you to pick something good for me,” he replied smoothly, his voice low and lazy, his hand slipping a little lower on the cushion behind her. His thumb brushed against the back of her shoulder, a gentle, absentminded gesture as he spoke.

Luna gave a soft chuckle, shaking her head as she scanned the menu. “You say that now, but if I end up picking something you don’t like, you’ll be the first to complain.”

He leaned a little closer, his breath warm against her cheek. “Hmm, I don’t think I’ll have any complaints if it’s coming from you,” he teased, the words slipping out like silk.

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at her lips as she focused back on the menu. “Alright, well… let’s see. For appetizers, there’s escargot, but I know that’s probably not something you’d enjoy.” She paused, glancing up at him with a knowing look.

Jeonghan made a face, feigning horror. “Snails? Really? Are you trying to test my love for you? I mean… I’d try for you.” He let out a soft laugh, his fingers brushing lightly against her hip where his hand rested.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I was just making sure,” Luna replied, a grin slipping through. “Alright, no snails for you, then. How about a charcuterie board? Some cheeses, cured meats… I know you like those.”

Jeonghan nodded, his eyes fixed on her face rather than the menu. “Sounds perfect. See? You know me so well.”

Luna flipped to the next page, detailing the entrees. Jeonghan’s hand moved subtly along the back of her seat, his fingertips tracing small circles against her coat’s fabric, eventually resting on her hip with a gentle, almost possessive hold. It was casual, natural, the way his touch lingered on her, as if he had every right to her space and she welcomed it without question.

She continued reading aloud, her tone calm and thoughtful. “For the main course, they have a classic coq au vin, which is chicken braised with red wine, mushrooms, and garlic. Or there’s a filet mignon with a red wine reduction sauce. I think you’d like that.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against her hip. “Mmm… I think you’re right. The filet sounds good,” he murmured, his voice almost a purr as he let her continue describing the dishes.

Luna flipped another page, her own shoulder relaxing under his gentle hold. “They also have bouillabaisse, which is a seafood stew. But I’m guessing you’re more in the mood for the filet tonight?” she asked, glancing up at him with a knowing smile.

Jeonghan nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting into a lazy grin. “You always know what I want. Makes it easy for me,” he said, his fingers pressing just a little more firmly against her hip, a subtle reminder of his presence. “I’d be lost without you here to guide me through all this.”

She raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, you’d manage just fine. But I’m happy to help.”

His hand stayed on her hip, his touch steady and familiar, as he looked down at her with an expression that was both playful and intent. “And I’m happy to let you,” he murmured, his eyes holding hers for a beat longer, a hint of challenge and warmth flickering in his gaze.

They exchanged an easy smile, the conversation flowing naturally, unhurried, as if this was exactly where they were supposed to be.

The small gestures between them— the gentle brush of his fingers, the quiet way she explained each dish— were all woven with the kind of comfort and intimacy that only came with time and understanding.

Luna didn’t mind his hand on her hip, didn’t mind his arm stretched behind her as if he owned that space around her. It felt right, his touch a steady reminder that he was hers and she was his, even here, in this quiet little corner of Paris where no one else needed to know the truth.

“So, filet mignon for you, then,” she said finally, closing the menu with a satisfied nod.

Jeonghan’s smile deepened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Whatever you say, my pretty moon.” His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but filled with a warmth that made her heart skip.

As Luna settled back, the two of them sat in their shared silence, content, feeling the weight of their secret world cocooned within these four walls, away from prying eyes. For now, they had each other, the food yet to come, and the unspoken understanding between them— one that didn’t need words, just the simple, easy closeness they shared in these stolen moments.

The quiet murmur of the restaurant was briefly interrupted as the waitress finally entered their secluded corner, her gaze drifting from the notepad in her hand to the couple seated in the booth.

Luna looked up, ready to greet her with a soft, polite smile, but her expression shifted the moment she caught sight of the waitress’s lingering stare— one that didn’t even attempt subtlety as her eyes moved up and down Jeonghan, taking in every detail as though committing him to memory.

Luna’s smile faltered, her eyes narrowing slightly as she watched the way the waitress’s gaze lingered on him.

She couldn’t blame her.

Jeonghan was striking, painfully so. His hair fell in loose, casual waves framing his face, his shirt collar open just enough to suggest sophistication and ease. His presence had a way of turning heads, and Luna was more than used to it by now— people stopped and stared at him every day. They did the same for her too, and in most cases, she brushed it off, almost amused by it.

But there was something different in the way the waitress was looking at him, something just a bit too bold, too unprofessional.

Jeonghan leaned back in his seat, a small, knowing smile on his face as he eyed Luna, his expression amused as if he could read every thought in her mind.

The cocky bastard was egging her on.

Luna shook her head, trying to dispel the initial irritation that had crept in, telling herself it was nothing. She didn’t need to let her imagination get the better of her.

It was probably nothing, just the standard reaction most people had to seeing someone as breathtaking as him.

She was better than this, Luna reminded herself. She wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions or judge someone so quickly. Her mother had taught her better than that.

She was a good person, a good girl, Luna repeated to herself.

Taking a breath, she straightened her shoulders and looked up at the waitress, offering her a renewed, polite smile. “Hi, we’re ready to order,” she said, her tone calm and measured.

The waitress finally pulled her eyes away from Jeonghan, glancing at Luna, but there was a flicker of something sharp, a hint of annoyance as she met her gaze.

It was subtle, almost too quick to catch, but Luna didn’t miss the way the waitress’s eyes hardened, the friendly mask slipping just enough to reveal something beneath it. Luna’s brows raised slightly in surprise, but she held her tongue, reminding herself to give the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe the waitress was just tired, or maybe she was having a bad day.

Luna forced herself to ignore it, smiling gently as she started to place their order.

“We’ll start with the charcuterie board,” she began, her tone steady as she listed the items they had discussed. “And for the main course, he’ll have the filet mignon, medium rare, with the red wine reduction sauce. And I’ll have the coq au vin.”

The waitress scribbled down the order without much acknowledgment, her expression indifferent as she glanced up, her attention sliding right back to Jeonghan with a warm, overly bright smile. Ignoring Luna entirely, she leaned in just a fraction, her eyes locking onto him with an intensity that made Luna’s jaw tighten.

“And what kind of wine would you like to have with your meal?” the waitress asked, her voice suddenly softer, more intimate. Her attention was so fixed on Jeonghan that it was as if Luna didn’t even exist.

Jeonghan, however, barely looked at her, giving a polite nod as he glanced at Luna, his silent way of deferring the choice to her.

“We’ll have the Bordeaux,” Luna said smoothly, her tone polite but firm, making it clear she was still there, still a part of the conversation. She offered a slight smile, determined to maintain her composure.

The waitress shot her a fleeting look, one that barely hid her disdain, before turning her attention back to Jeonghan. “And do you visit Paris often?” she asked him, her tone a little too friendly, a little too familiar.

Jeonghan blinked, clearly taken aback by the question, and gave her a polite but hesitant nod. “Sometimes… for work,” he replied in his choppy English, clearly trying his best.

Luna felt a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement tug at her as she watched Jeonghan struggle to answer. His attempts at English were always adorable, endearing in a way that only he could pull off, and it was something she had fallen for countless times.

But in this moment, watching the waitress’s smile widen with newfound interest, she felt a pang of irritation. It was as though every word out of his mouth only drew the waitress in deeper, her gaze growing more flirtatious, more determined.

The waitress leaned closer, a coy smile playing on her lips as she asked, “Are you a model? You look like you could be one.” Her voice held a breathy quality now, her eyes never leaving him.

Luna clenched her jaw, willing herself to keep her composure. She told herself to let it go, that the waitress probably didn’t know who they were, and maybe that was a blessing in disguise. But that didn’t make it any less irritating.

Jeonghan, however, remained unfazed, his face cool and relaxed as he replied, “Sometimes… we model.” His English was halting, but his tone was confident, and he let his hand drift to Luna’s thigh, his fingers resting there as he gave her a small, almost mischievous smile.

He was referring to both of them, making it clear that Luna was just as much a part of that world as he was.

The waitress’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of irritation crossing her face before she quickly recovered. “Have I seen you before?” she asked, her tone implying something more, her eyes flicking to Luna with a hint of challenge, as if daring her to respond.

Luna’s irritation spiked, but she forced herself to remain calm. Instead, she simply pulled out her phone, her fingers moving swiftly across the screen as she began typing a message to Seungkwan, her fingers practically flying as she poured out her frustration. She knew Seungkwan would appreciate the gossip, and it was the only thing keeping her from doing something she might regret— like flipping the table.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan turned back to the waitress, his face a picture of casual indifference as he replied in his choppy English, “Probably with her… my girlfriend.” His tone was calm, almost bored, as he gestured to Luna with a slight nod, his hand still resting on her thigh.

Luna’s fingers froze mid-text, her eyes snapping up to side-eye Jeonghan.

A small part of her wanted to gush over how adorable his broken English was, how proud she was of him for managing to get the words out so smoothly. But her possessiveness was clouding everything else, making her focus on how risky it was for him to say that out loud, especially when they were supposed to keep their relationship hidden from the public eye.

Jeonghan, however, seemed completely unbothered, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he met her gaze, his expression filled with a knowing, almost smug amusement. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he clearly didn’t care about the risk.

It was as if he was challenging her, daring her to react and do the same, all while maintaining that calm, cool demeanor.

They were so focused on each other, locked in a silent exchange, that neither of them noticed when the waitress huffed quietly and left the room, her frustration evident in her hurried steps as she disappeared back into the restaurant.

Luna let out a slow breath, feeling her irritation slowly melt away as she glanced down at Jeonghan’s hand still resting possessively on her thigh. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at her lips as she looked back at him, shaking her head in quiet exasperation.

“You know, you didn’t have to say it like that,” she murmured, her voice soft yet teasing, her annoyance already forgotten.

Jeonghan simply shrugged, his smirk deepening as he met her gaze. “She needed to know,” he replied nonchalantly, his voice low and casual, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Luna crossed her arms, frustration evident as she glared up at Jeonghan. “What if she tells, Han?” she hissed under her breath, her voice a blend of worry and annoyance. “We’re gonna get in troub—”

But Jeonghan didn’t let her finish.

Before she could get another word out, he reached out, his slender fingers tilting her chin up with the gentlest touch, forcing her to look directly into his eyes. His gaze was intense, smoldering with a fire that seemed to flicker just for her. Her breath caught, heart stammering in her chest as the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk, equal parts mischievous and reassuring.

The kiss was fervent, searing, filled with a raw passion that took her by surprise.

Jeonghan's lips moved over hers with purpose, a demanding rhythm that left her struggling to keep up. He pressed closer, his hand sliding behind her head, fingers threading through her hair as he held her firmly in place. His other hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing along her cheekbone in a surprisingly tender contrast to the urgency of his mouth on hers.

Luna's heart raced, pounding against her chest as she surrendered to the moment, her initial shock melting into a haze of sensation. She tried to match his intensity, but Jeonghan's fervor was relentless, his lips guiding hers in a way that left no room for hesitation. His mouth was warm and soft, but his kiss was anything but gentle-each movement a silent declaration, as if he was staking his claim, proving a point without a single word.

He angled his head slightly, deepening the kiss, his lips parting to invite her in, his tongue brushing teasingly against hers, coaxing her to respond. The warmth of his breath mingled with hers, filling the small space between them with a dizzying sense of intimacy. Every touch, every brush of his lips, felt deliberate, designed to make her melt under his touch.

Luna's hands moved instinctively, grasping at his shoulders to steady herself as his kiss grew more insistent, more consuming.

Her fingers tightened against the fabric of his shirt, holding on as he continued to kiss her with a fervor that bordered on overwhelming. She could feel the strength in his hold, the way his hands held her close, anchoring her to him as though he couldn't bear to let her go.

Her mind spun, her senses flooded with him-the scent of his cologne, the softness of his hair brushing against her forehead, the heat radiating from his body as he pressed closer. The world around them faded, leaving only the taste of him on her lips, the warmth of his skin under her fingertips.

The world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in this intimate bubble, a silent declaration of their connection.

Just when she thought she'd drown in the intensity of it all, Jeonghan's pace slowed, his lips lingering against hers in a series of softer, slower kisses, as if savoring the moment. His hand moved from her face to her jaw, thumb gently tracing the curve of her cheek, while his fingers splayed possessively along the back of her neck, keeping her close. His lips parted from hers just enough for them to share a breath, his forehead resting against hers as his eyes remained closed, as though he were still savoring the taste of her.

Slowly, he pulled back, his gaze meeting hers with a satisfied, almost smug gleam, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he observed her dazed expression. He didn’t let go of her face, his hands lingering, fingers tracing gentle circles along her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine.

“People will believe what they want to believe,” he murmured softly, his voice low and soothing, each word wrapping around her like a warm blanket. “Our fans… they already think we’re together, and even if some don’t, it doesn’t change what’s real between us.”

His words were so matter-of-fact, his tone so calm, it eased something within her. His thumb continued to stroke her cheek, his gaze unwavering, steady and reassuring. “Besides,” he added with a little smile, “that waitress? She has no proof. She clearly doesn’t know who we are, and even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.” He leaned back slightly, tilting his head to study her, as if gauging her reaction. “No one can touch us. Not here. Not like this.”

Luna felt her heart rate begin to slow, her body relaxing under the weight of his calm certainty. Her lips parted slightly as she tried to form a response, but Jeonghan was already there, cradling her face as though she were something delicate, precious. His fingers traced along her jaw, then down to her hands, where he lifted her fingers to his lips, pressing gentle kisses to each one. His lips were soft, feather-light as he moved from one finger to the next, then finally to the center of her palm, where he lingered, eyes never leaving hers.

“You’re too good for this world, my angel,” he murmured, voice filled with a gentle affection that left her chest feeling tight.

His words were soft, coaxing her like one would soothe a child, and somehow, despite her normally assertive, strong-willed self, she felt herself softening under his touch, the tension slipping from her shoulders as she let herself be pulled into the warmth of his adoration.

Only Jeonghan could make her feel like this— vulnerable, small, and cherished, all at once.

She pouted, her lips curving downward as she finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “But… what if she spits in my food?”

Jeonghan chuckled, a warm, deep sound that reverberated through her, and for a brief moment, his gaze softened even further, filled with a fondness that seemed to overflow. “Then we’ll switch dishes,” he replied, his tone halfway between serious and playful. “Or,” he continued with a slight smirk, his fingers still caressing her hand, “I’ll get her fired if you want.”

She gasped, swatting at his chest lightly. “Hannie!” she scolded, though her voice held no real anger, just the remnants of her lingering irritation mixed with a playful reprimand. “That’s mean!”

His smirk softened, morphing into a gentle smile as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, a feather-light touch that was far less urgent than before, filled with a quiet reverence instead. “You’re an angel,” he murmured against her lips, his voice a hushed whisper as he pulled back just enough to look at her. “My pretty angel. Such a good girl.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through her, leaving her speechless, her face heating up at his doting tone. There was something about the way he was looking at her, the softness in his eyes, that made her want to melt, to let go of every worry and just stay here with him, lost in this moment.

As they settled back into their seats, Luna felt an almost tangible shift in the air between them. The kiss had left her dazed, a gentle flush still coloring her cheeks, and Jeonghan’s casual return to their conversation only added to the surreal nature of the moment. She found herself leaning into him, their shoulders brushing, her hand casually resting on his thigh beneath the table.

They spoke in hushed tones, laughter and soft smiles passing between them, as though they were in their own world where time moved a little slower, and the rest of the restaurant faded into the background.

Every once in a while, Jeonghan would reach out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering just a second longer than necessary, making her pulse quicken all over again. She responded by nudging him with her shoulder, pretending to be annoyed, though the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

When their food finally arrived, it was the same waitress who reappeared, balancing their plates and the wine bottle with a practiced ease. Luna glanced up to thank her, but Jeonghan’s gaze was already fixed on the waitress, his expression carefully unreadable as he watched her approach. As she moved to set the dish in front of Luna, Jeonghan’s voice cut in smoothly, yet with a hint of something sharper beneath his polite tone.

“Here.” He pointed to the space in front of him, gesturing for the waitress to place Luna’s dish there instead.

The waitress hesitated, a slight flicker of confusion crossing her face as she looked between the two of them. But she quickly masked it, her expression returning to the same blank professionalism she’d shown throughout the evening. She set the dish down in front of Jeonghan without a word, her gaze momentarily meeting his.

Jeonghan held her stare, searching for any sign of guilt or discomfort, any indication that she might have tampered with their order out of petty jealousy. But the waitress remained stoic, her demeanor calm and unbothered, which he noted with a slight nod of approval.

“Thank you,” Luna said politely, offering a small smile as the waitress set down her own dish and poured the wine. Jeonghan echoed her thanks with a subtle dip of his head, his attention already shifting back to Luna as the waitress left them in peace.

Once the waitress was out of earshot, Jeonghan reached across the table, nudging Luna’s plate toward her with a grin. “Well, I didn’t see any poison in it,” he murmured, his voice teasing, though the protective glint in his eye made her heart skip a beat. She couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a bit ridiculous for her earlier concerns, yet touched by how quickly he’d picked up on her worries and how naturally he’d moved to reassure her.

They settled into their meal, casually swapping bites from each other’s plates. Jeonghan’s utensils found their way to her dish as often as her own did, a shared rhythm developing between them as they tasted each other’s choices. He’d lift a piece of food to her lips, his gaze warm and attentive, waiting for her reaction with a small smile. She’d make a face if it was something she didn’t particularly like, and he’d chuckle, offering her his glass of wine to wash it down.

“Here, try this one,” Luna said, holding out a forkful of her dish to him. Jeonghan leaned forward, his eyes never leaving hers as he accepted the bite, savoring it with a small, appreciative nod. His hand found its way to hers on the table, his thumb idly tracing circles on her skin, grounding her in the intimacy of the moment.

The wine bottle sat between them, and they poured for each other in turns, watching the liquid swirl in their glasses before clinking them together softly. Jeonghan raised his glass, a playful glint in his eye. “To dealing with overly friendly waitstaff and stealing each other’s food,” he toasted, his smirk making her laugh.

“To stealing each other’s food,” she echoed, touching her glass to his, feeling the warmth of the wine spread through her with each sip.

Their conversation flowed effortlessly as they enjoyed their meal, slipping into easy banter and shared glances, as though they’d done this a thousand times before. Each bite, each sip of wine, felt like a part of the dance between them—unhurried, comfortable, intimate. It was as if the restaurant around them had faded away, leaving only the two of them and the soft glow of candlelight illuminating their little corner.

By the time they’d finished eating, their plates nearly empty, they sat back in their seats, both satisfied and content. Jeonghan reached over, his fingers brushing a stray crumb from the corner of her mouth, his touch lingering as his eyes softened.

Luna’s heart fluttered, a smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him, her fingers lacing with his beneath the table. She felt a profound sense of gratitude and joy, as though every part of this night was a precious memory they were crafting together, one that would stay with her long after they’d left this place.

And as they sat there, basking in the quiet intimacy that had settled over them, Luna couldn’t shake the feeling that moments like this— moments that were simple, genuine, and filled with laughter and warmth— were what made everything worth it.

As dinner came to an end, Jeonghan signaled for the check, slipping his card to a new waiter without a second thought. They exchanged quiet smiles as they waited, still reveling in the comfortable intimacy that had blossomed over the evening. When the waiter returned, Jeonghan handled the payment swiftly, and with one last glance around the cozy, dimly-lit restaurant, they made their way out into the crisp night air.

The cab ride back to the hotel was quiet, but in a way that felt perfectly right. Luna rested her head on Jeonghan’s shoulder, her hand intertwined with his in her lap, their fingers loosely laced together. They didn’t need words; the warmth of his hand in hers and the faint thrum of the car engine beneath them were all they needed in that moment. It was as though the rest of the world had faded, leaving only the two of them and the soft hum of the city around them.

Once they reached their hotel, they navigated their way through the lobby, exchanging tired smiles as they waited for the elevator. By the time they reached their room, a gentle, lazy fatigue had settled over them, the kind that made them crave the cozy confines of their space together.

As soon as they were inside, Luna kicked off her shoes, the satisfying clack of her heels hitting the floor filling the room. She shrugged off her coat, letting it fall to the floor in an unceremonious heap, before draping herself across the sofa with a sigh of relief. She stretched out, curling her legs up beneath her as she settled back, pulling out her phone and beginning to scroll lazily.

Jeonghan, meanwhile, slipped out of his own coat, his gaze drifting over to her as he hung it up. His eyes raked over her relaxed form, taking in the way her hair tumbled over her shoulders, her casual posture, the slight pout on her lips as she focused on her phone. He smiled, an affectionate warmth spreading through him as he crossed the room toward her.

Without a word, he settled beside her on the sofa, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her gently into his side. Instinctively, Luna leaned into him, snuggling up without looking away from her phone, her head coming to rest on his chest as she continued scrolling. Jeonghan watched her from above, a soft smile playing at his lips as he took in the way she fit perfectly against him.

They sat in comfortable silence, a quiet intimacy enveloping them. Some couples might have found this unproductive, or even a little boring, but for them, this was everything. This was where they were most at home, in the quiet spaces between words, in the shared stillness that felt like a world of its own. Both of them, introverted and often easily drained, found a sense of peace in simply being together like this, with no need for conversation or grand gestures.

Luna shifted slightly, curling up closer against him, her body fitting perfectly into the crook of his side. Jeonghan held her a bit tighter, his hand slipping up to run through her hair, his fingers combing gently through the soft, blonde strands. He removed a stray strand from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a tenderness that was second nature by now.

Then, suddenly, Luna gasped, her body jolting slightly as she sat up, startling Jeonghan. His face remained composed, though his eyes widened a touch as he looked at her in surprise.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows raising as he watched her.

“We forgot to eat dessert,” Luna pouted, her expression serious as though this was a matter of utmost importance.

Jeonghan blinked, and then his concerned look melted into one of pure, unfiltered fondness. His lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling as he watched her, a quiet chuckle slipping out.

“Aigo…” he cooed, slipping into his sing-song, babying tone. “What do we do? Hmm?” His voice held a teasing lilt, his gaze resting on her pout as if it were the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.

Luna huffed, still pouting as she glanced back at him, her eyes holding that familiar glint that told him she was about to ask for something. He waited, raising an eyebrow, letting the silence hang between them as if to say, Well?

“You want us to order room service?” Jeonghan asked, already knowing her answer.

Luna nodded, her eyes lighting up with a hopeful gleam as she met his gaze.

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head at her fondly. “Alright.”

Her face lit up, a beaming smile spreading across her lips as she practically bounced off the sofa, following him to the small telephone on the desk in the corner of the room. She reached for the room service menu, flipping through it as Jeonghan hovered beside her, watching her with that same indulgent look.

“What do you want, Nana-ya?” he asked, his voice soft, playful.

“Cake,” Luna replied simply, her eyes still scanning the menu before she glanced up at him. “You?”

“We can share,” Jeonghan said with a grin, his eyes meeting hers as she nodded in agreement.

Satisfied, Luna picked up the phone, dialing the number for room service. As she waited for someone to pick up, she felt Jeonghan’s presence close behind her, his hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder. Then, without warning, he leaned down, his head nestling into the curve of her neck as he inhaled her familiar scent, the faint aroma of her perfume filling his senses.

“Room service, how can I assist you?” the receptionist’s polite voice crackled through the phone.

“Yes, hello,” Luna began, her tone polite and measured. “We’d like to order a dessert, please. Just a slice of your chocolate cake.” She paused, glancing at Jeonghan to confirm, and he gave a lazy nod against her shoulder, his breath warm on her skin.

As she spoke, Jeonghan’s lips found her neck, placing gentle, feather-light kisses along her skin, his face nestled in the crook where her neck met her shoulder. She could feel the soft brush of his hair against her cheek, the subtle scrape of his teeth as he teased her with a playful nip. She bit back a smile, her cheeks warming as she focused on the conversation with the receptionist.

“Yes, just one slice of the chocolate cake, please,” she continued, trying to keep her voice steady as Jeonghan’s lips trailed lower, his hand wrapping around her waist as he held her close. He let out a soft, almost petulant whine against her skin, the sound vibrating through her neck, as though he was annoyed she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“Uh… yes, that will be all,” Luna finished, a hint of breathlessness creeping into her voice as she ran her fingers through his hair to appease him, scratching lightly at his scalp in a way that made him sigh contentedly against her.

“Very well, it will be delivered shortly. Thank you,” the receptionist replied.

“Thank you,” Luna managed, before hanging up and setting the phone down with a soft exhale.

“Thank you,” Luna managed, before hanging up and setting the phone down with a soft exhale.

The dim light of the room cast a warm glow across Jeonghan's face as he and Luna held each other's gaze, a silent but magnetic pull between them. His eyes traced over her face, taking in every detail as if he was committing it to memory-the subtle curve of her lips, the flutter of her lashes, the way her cheeks held a faint flush that only deepened as he looked at her.

And she, in turn, scanned his face with equal intensity, noticing the playful glint in his eyes, the slight tilt of his lips that hinted at his next move.

"So," Jeonghan began in a low, teasing murmur, "you think dessert was really worth interrupting our time alone, hmm?"

Luna smirked, shrugging in that casual, flirtatious way of hers. "A girl has her priorities," she quipped, her voice as cool as her expression, though her eyes sparkled with mischief. "And it's not my fault you dragged me out of the restaurant early."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to fill the room and reverberate through her chest. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his gaze never leaving hers. "Oh, is that right? I'm the one to blame?"

She tilted her head back to maintain eye contact as he advanced, her posture cool and composed, though her heart was racing beneath her calm facade. "If you have something to say, Hannie," she teased, her voice just above a whisper, "you should say it instead of just staring."

He arched a brow, clearly amused. "Maybe I'm saying plenty... without words."

Their banter flowed with ease, layered with unspoken tension, each word a deliberate nudge in a game neither wanted to end. As he took another step, Luna found herself instinctively moving back until her legs bumped against a chair, forcing her to sit.

She watched him intently, eyes wide and breath held as he loomed over her, one hand braced on the back of the chair near her head.

Jeonghan leaned in, his dark hair falling forward, nearly brushing her face. His free hand reached up, fingers ghosting over her cheek as he cupped her face gently, his thumb tracing her skin in slow, tantalizing circles. Luna's breath hitched as she looked up at him, her expression softening, her eyes reflecting an unspoken plea. She wanted him to close the distance, to eliminate the aching space between them.

He dipped his head lower, his face so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath mingling with hers. She closed her eyes, leaning in, lips parted in anticipation as their mouths brushed. But just as their lips met, Jeonghan paused, his smirk growing as he pulled back ever so slightly.

Her eyes flew open, meeting his with a mixture of frustration and longing, but he only grinned, his gaze holding a wicked gleam. "What's the rush, hmm?" he murmured, barely containing his laughter as he watched her reaction.

She let out a small, frustrated whine, her voice soft but audible, as she chased his lips again. But he leaned back just enough to keep her wanting, teasing her with the closeness yet denying her what she craved. He cooed at her, his tone dripping with playful condescension, "Aigo... are you that impatient, baby?"

Luna's lips formed into a pout, her eyes pleading as she whispered, "Please, Han..."

His laughter was soft, warm, a gentle rumble that made her heart skip. "Now, how can I say no to that?" he replied, finally relenting as he closed the gap between them.

Their lips met in a kiss that was anything but gentle-he pressed against her with a fervor that matched the tension that had built between them, his mouth moving over hers with practiced ease. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she pulled him closer. His lips were soft but firm, tasting faintly of the wine they'd shared at dinner, and she could feel the warmth of him seeping into her as their mouths moved together, slow and deep.

His hand stayed on her cheek, fingers brushing back the stray strands of her hair as he tilted her head, deepening the kiss with a controlled intensity that left her breathless. Her fingers slipped into his hair, tugging lightly, drawing a soft, muffled groan from him as their mouths continued their unhurried exploration.

Just as she was beginning to lose herself entirely in the kiss, her senses drowned in the taste of him, a sudden sound interrupted them-the shrill ring of the doorbell. Jeonghan pulled back, breathing slightly heavier, his lips curving into a smirk as he glanced toward the door.

Luna's eyes flew open, her expression one of dazed frustration as she realized what had happened. She whined again, softer this time, her fingers still clutching his shirt as she leaned forward, trying to capture his lips once more.

But Jeonghan laughed, straightening as he gently extricated himself from her grasp.

"Guess dessert couldn't wait," he teased, reaching down to press a quick, affectionate peck to her pouty lips before pulling away entirely. “Priorities right?”

She huffed, crossing her arms as she sank back into the chair, watching him move toward the door with an exasperated expression. "I regret mentioning dessert," she muttered under her breath.

“Oh I bet you do,” Jeonghan looked back at her, chuckling softly. "Don't pout, Nana-ya. I'll be right back," he cooed, his voice teasing as he shot her a wink.

Jeonghan moved gracefully to the door, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips, and pulled it open, revealing a young woman dressed smartly in the hotel’s uniform. Her eyes widened a fraction as she took in his features, her gaze lingering a bit longer than necessary, clearly caught off guard by his ethereal presence. Jeonghan offered her a polite smile, his usual charm dripping effortlessly as he opened the door wider to allow her in.

The staff member seemed momentarily stunned, her steps hesitant as she entered the suite with the cake on a silver platter.

Luna, watching from her seat with narrowed eyes, tilted her head back slightly, caught in a moment of exasperation. She wasn’t sure if she should thank the universe for blessing her with such a gorgeous boyfriend or curse it for how every other woman seemed to be magnetically drawn to him. She sighed, the sound soft but noticeable, and leaned back in her chair, arms folded.

“You can place it there. Thank you,” Luna said, her voice polite yet firm as she gestured to the table in front of her.

The staff member barely glanced in Luna’s direction, seemingly dismissive as she followed her instruction but kept her attention fixed on Jeonghan. She set the cake down with a smile that was far too warm for a mere transaction, and as she straightened, her gaze returned to Jeonghan with a coyness that was impossible to ignore.

Jeonghan, sensing Luna’s mood shifting, subtly leaned back against the cabinet behind him, his eyes sliding over to her as though waiting for her to finally reach her limit. His eyebrow lifted in a silent challenge, a playful gleam dancing in his eyes as he watched her closely, a silent spectator to the tension building in the room.

The staff member, oblivious to the silent exchange between the couple, stepped closer to Jeonghan, her tone lilting with a French accent as she spoke. “You are staying long in Paris?” she asked, her voice filled with a flirtatious curiosity. “It is a beautiful city, no?”

Jeonghan offered her a polite nod, his understanding of English limited at best. He caught only pieces of what she said, but he remained courteous, his eyes shifting momentarily to Luna, who sat perfectly still, her gaze fixed on the woman with a barely concealed edge.

Luna, on the other hand, understood every single word. Every subtle inflection, every soft laugh, every lingering glance— all of it rang clear as day to her. She was used to seeing women fawn over Jeonghan; it was practically part of dating him or simply being friends with him. Luna usually had no issues with it, didn’t blame them for admiring what was hers.

But what grated on her now was the lack of respect— the dismissal in the way these women acted, first the waitress earlier and now this. The feeling of possessiveness simmered within her, a dark and shadowy friend she knew well.

The staff member’s next words, however, set something off within her.

“Is she your sister?” the woman asked, gesturing subtly toward Luna without even glancing her way. Her tone was deceptively innocent as she continued, “If so, I can give you my number, and we can get to know each other more. I bet we’d hit it off.”

The question barely registered in Jeonghan’s mind, his limited English leaving him clueless, but Luna? Luna understood every syllable, and as the words settled, she felt the blood rush in her ears, a wave of red tinting her vision.

Jeonghan, however, seemed to sense the shift in the air. His gaze snapped to hers, and there was an unmistakable glint in his eyes— something dark and almost wicked, as if he was daring her, waiting for her to react.

No, he wanted her to react. He wanted her to claim him, just as he’d claimed her earlier at the restaurant, making it clear that she belonged to him.

The woman’s suggestion was the final straw.

“Oh honey, it would take a miracle for him to like you,” Luna’s voice cut through the room, her tone sharper and deeper than usual, each word laced with a lethal edge.

The woman’s head snapped to Luna, her eyes widening in surprise, clearly not expecting such a reaction. Jeonghan leaned further back against the cabinet, arms crossed and an amused smirk curling his lips as he watched the scene unfold, his ego clearly enjoying the moment. If anything, he looked more intrigued by Luna than ever, his gaze holding a fierce appreciation for the fire in her eyes.

“Actually,” Luna continued, her tone unyielding and dripping with sarcasm, “I’m his girlfriend.” She smiled, the expression so sugary sweet it could have given someone a toothache, but there was no mistaking the bite beneath it. “Thank you for going above and beyond as our hotel staff— your service is no longer needed. I’ll make sure that your management gets my feedback on your… attentiveness.” She paused, letting the word hang in the air before adding, “You can leave now.”

Jeonghan may not have understood the specifics of what she said, but he didn’t need to. Her body language, her voice, and the way the staff’s face twisted in irritation before she huffed and turned on her heel told him everything he needed to know. The woman left the room with her head held high, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving the air heavy and charged with an electric tension.

Jeonghan’s smirk widened as he watched Luna, a low chuckle escaping him as he took in the defiance and possessiveness radiating off her. She sat there, her arms still crossed, her gaze challenging as she held his eyes, waiting for his reaction.

“So,” he drawled, moving from the cabinet to stand in front of her, his eyes glinting with amusement, “you were jealous.”

Luna scoffed, though the slight pink tint on her cheeks betrayed her. “Jealous? Don’t make me laugh, Han. You know me, I am never jealous.” she repeated, lifting her chin. “I was simply reminding her of her place.”

Jeonghan laughed softly, the sound rich and smooth as he leaned down, bringing his face closer to hers. “Oh, is that all it was?” he teased, his voice low and taunting. “Looked a bit like jealousy to me.”

Luna’s eyes narrowed, the spark in her gaze sharp and unyielding. She leaned forward, her voice firm as she shot back, “I am not jealous, Yoon Jeonghan. Not of someone like her, not of anyone like her. Do you really think I’d waste my time and energy on something so… so… trivial?”

Jeonghan’s lips curved into a knowing smirk, his amusement only growing as he watched the fire flare in her eyes. “Of course not,” he replied, dragging out the words with deliberate ease. “I must have it wrong, then.” His tone was mockingly thoughtful as he tilted his head, studying her intently. “It’s not jealousy, hmm?” He paused, then added, “No… it’s just my possessive little bunny finally showing her true colors.”

The nickname made Luna’s retort die on her lips. She inhaled sharply, a flicker of awareness flashing across her face as his words settled, leaving her momentarily speechless. Because as much as she wanted to deny it, she knew he was right. The word “possessive” rang true, and he could see the admission in her eyes before she even had to say it.

Unwilling to concede completely, she leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a huff, her expression guarded yet defiant. Jeonghan’s eyes softened with an amused glint as he took in her posture, seeing through every layer she tried to hide behind. He lowered himself down, crouching directly in front of her, bringing their faces level. His gaze was warm yet teasing, as if he were savoring this moment of truth between them.

Luna met his eyes, her gaze unwavering, though there was a slight flush in her cheeks. She might have given in this time, but her defiance lingered, a silent reminder that this battle between them was far from over.

Luna narrowed her eyes, though she couldn’t help the corner of her lips tugging upward. “Don’t flatter yourself, Yoon Jeonghan. I was being considerate,” she replied coolly, the fire in her eyes flickering dangerously. “Thought she’d appreciate knowing that she was wasting her time.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the way she held her ground, the tension between them sizzling with every exchange. “Well,” he murmured, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering at her cheek, “considerate or not, I have to say, I like seeing this side of you.”

“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with a challenge. “And which side is that?”

“The side that knows I’m hers,” he replied smoothly, his gaze never leaving hers.

Luna’s breath hitched slightly, but she kept her composure, refusing to let him see just how much his words affected her. Instead, she leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper as she said, “Then I hope you remember it, too.”

Jeonghan’s smirk softened into something deeper, his eyes warm as he leaned down, his lips just a breath away from hers. “Trust me,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Luna raised an eyebrow at him, her gaze unwavering, an amused spark dancing in her eyes. "Yeah?" she asked, her tone laced with playful skepticism as her arm snaked around his neck, pulling him just a little closer.

Jeonghan held her gaze, unflinching, the corners of his mouth curling in that infuriatingly charming way. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly rose from his crouching position in front of her, her arms still looped around his neck, lifting with him as he stood. Their faces remained mere inches apart, the tension between them crackling like electricity in the air.

"Yeah," he breathed out, his voice low and filled with certainty. He gently guided her to rise with him, his hands steady at her waist, and in one fluid motion, he turned them around. Before she fully registered the shift, Jeonghan had slipped into the chair she'd been sitting in moments earlier, leaving her standing between his legs, his hands still firmly on her waist.

Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he tugged her closer, pulling her down onto his lap in one swift motion that caught her completely off guard. She gasped, her voice spilling out in a startled laugh as she found herself straddling him, her knees bracketing his hips as she settled in his lap.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, her heart pounding as she gazed down at him, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck once more. She began to absentmindedly toy with a strand of his long hair, letting it curl around her fingers as a small, satisfied smile tugged at her lips.

Meanwhile, Jeonghan leaned back in the chair with a lazy, contented grin, his fingers pressing into her waist with a possessive hold. He adjusted himself in the seat, pushing his hips deeper into the cushion and sinking further into the chair, all while his gaze never left hers.

"You seem comfortable," she remarked, a teasing edge to her voice, but the way her fingers trailed through his hair betrayed just how much she was enjoying this, too.

Jeonghan's grin only widened, his fingers tracing gentle circles against her waist.

"Comfortable?" he echoed, his eyes glinting up at her. "With you right here? Very comfortable." He gave her waist a light squeeze, leaning back even further, as if daring her to keep her balance as he gently guided her hips to move against his with a teasing smirk, showing him how much her little stunt earlier had affecting him.

"How about you, hmm? Are you comfortable?" Jeonghan asked her.

Luna's breath hitched as she felt the hard length of him straining against his pants, pressing against her through the thin fabric of her skirt that has ridden up. She bit her lip, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as she savored the sensation, her hips instinctively rolling against him in response. When she opened her eyes again, they were filled with a hunger that mirrored his own.

"Not quite," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, her fingers tightening in his hair. "But I could be."

Jeonghan's smirk faded, replaced by a look of pure, unadulterated desire. His grip on her waist tightened, his thumbs tracing circles on her skin, pushing her skirt higher up her thighs. "What do you want, my angel?" he growled, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down her spine.

She leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, "I want you to prove to me that your mine, Hannie."

He groaned, his fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her closer, his hips bucking against her. "Fuck, Jiyeon," he swore, his voice ragged, "you drive me crazy. Is that what you want?"

She smirked, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she rocked against him, her eyes locked onto his. "Uh huh. That's the plan," she purred, her voice laced with a sultry promise.

Jeonghan's hands slid up her thighs, pushing her skirt up until it bunched around her waist, baring her to him. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his breath hitching as he watched Luna grind onto him, her blonde hair messy as she leaned back, his fingers tightening around her waist as he helped her grind on him.  His cock throbbed, pressing painfully against his zipper, desperate to be freed. He could feel her heat through her panties, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to rip them off and bury himself inside her right then and there.

"Fuck, Luna," he groaned, his voice strained as he watched her, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Just like that."

She smirked, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she continued to ride him, her movements growing bolder, more confident. "Your mine right?" she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Say it, Han. Please, tell me you're mine."

Jeonghan's grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he thrust his hips upward, meeting her grinding movements with his own. "I'm yours, Bae Jiyeon," he growled, his voice ragged with need. "Always fucking yours. I’m yours, every single part of me… don’t ever forget that.”

Luna’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she reached down between them, her fingers finding the button of his pants. With a quick flick, she popped it open, her knuckles brushing against his straining erection as she lowered the zipper.

Jeonghan hissed, his hips jerking involuntarily at the contact, his eyes never leaving hers. Luna licked her lips, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxers, slowly pulling both his pants and underwear down, freeing his cock. It sprang forth, hard and ready, and she couldn't help but admire the sight of him, her mouth watering at the thought of having him inside her.

Jeonghan watched her, his chest heaving as he waited for her next move. Luna's eyes flicked up to meet his, a wicked glint in them as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, giving it a slow, firm stroke that made him groan. Jeonghan's grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh as he fought to maintain control.

"Baby," he purred, his voice ragged. "You're killing me."

She smirked, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she continued to stroke him, her thumb swirling around the sensitive head of his cock. "Not yet, baby," she whispered, her voice laced with a sultry promise. "But I will." His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her, his breath hitching as he watched Luna grind onto him, her blonde hair messy as she leaned back, her fingers tightening around his shaft.

His cock throbbed, desperate to be inside her, but he wanted to watch her, to see her lose control.

"Grind on my lap, pretty angel," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Show me how much you want me."

Luna's eyes flashed with a mix of surprise and excitement, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of pink. She hesitated for a moment before slowly started moving her hips back and forth faster while Jeonghan leaned back, his hands falling off her waist as he let her do all the work.  Luna's eyes fluttered closed, her head tilting back as she focused on the sensation of his hard length rubbing against her clit through her soaked panties. She moaned, her fingers tightening around his cock, stroking him in rhythm with her movements.

Jeonghan watched her, his eyes darkening with lust as he took in the sight of her. Her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, her lips parted, and her cheeks flushed with pleasure. He could feel her heat, her wetness seeping through her panties, coating his length.

The friction was exquisite, driving him wild, but he wanted more. He wanted to feel her bare, to slide into her warmth without any barriers. He reached up, his hands finding the hem of her shirt, and in one swift motion, he pulled it off, revealing her lacy bra underneath. Luna's eyes flew open, her pupils dilated with desire as she looked down at him, her chest heaving.

"Han..." she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Shh," he hushed her, his fingers trailing up her stomach, between her breasts, until they reached the clasp of her bra.

With a flick of his wrist, it came undone, and her breasts spilled out, her nipples already hard and aching for his touch. Luna gasped, her back arching as he cupped one breast, his thumb circling her nipple, sending jolts of pleasure straight to her core.

"Fuck, Han… Hannie," she moaned, her hips grinding harder against him, seeking friction, needing release. "I need you."

He growled, his eyes locked onto her bouncing tits, his cock throbbing with need. "You want my cock, angel?" he rasped, his voice thick with desire. "Tell me how bad you want it."

Luna whimpered, her hips rolling against him, her pussy aching for him. "I want it so fucking bad, Han," she panted, her nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you inside me. Now."

Jeonghan's grip on her hip tightened, his other hand moving to her ass, squeezing it roughly as he helped her grind against him. "You want me to fuck you, my pretty girl?" he coos, his voice low and dirty.

"Say it, Jiyeon. Beg for me."

Luna's breath hitched, her eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and excitement. She loved it when he talked to her like that, when he took control and demanded things from her. It made her feel alive, desired, and utterly fucking sexy.

"I want you, oppa," she moaned, her hips rolling against him, her pussy throbbing with need. "I need you to fuck me hard. Please."

“You do?” Jeonghan hummed as his eyes darkened, his grip on her hip and ass tightening as he lifted her slightly, sliding her panties to the side before positioning himself at her entrance.

Luna's breath hitched as she nodded, her eyes locked onto his as she felt the head of his cock press against her, hot and ready. She was soaking wet, her panties drenched, and she could feel her arousal coating his length, making it slick and easy for him to slide in.

"Look at me, Jiyeonie. Let me see that beautiful face," Jeonghan instructed, his voice low and rough. "I want to see your eyes when I fuck you."

She nodded, her gaze never wavering as he slowly pushed into her, inch by inch, filling her completely. Luna's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to his size, her inner walls stretching to accommodate him. Jeonghan groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the feeling of being inside her, her tight heat enveloping him completely.

"Fuck, angel," he moaned, his voice strained as he opened his eyes to look at her. "You feel so fucking good."

She smirked, her hips rolling against him, taking him deeper. "I could say the same to you, Hannie," she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction.

She began to move, her hips rolling in a slow, sensuous dance as she rode him, taking him deeper with each thrust. Jeonghan's fingers dug into her flesh, his grip tight as he helped guide her movements, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Nana-ya," he groaned, his voice ragged as he watched her, his cock throbbing inside her. "You feel so good. All mine."

Luna smirked, her nails raking down his chest, leaving red lines in their wake. "All yours, huh?" she taunted, her voice low and sultry. "Prove it, Han. Fuck me like you mean it."

Jeonghan's eyes flashed with a primal hunger, his grip on her hips tightening as he slammed up into her, making her gasp. "Like this, baby?" he growled, his voice laced with a dark intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

“Han– Oh, fuck, baby,” Luna's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she met his thrusts, her hips rolling against him, taking him deeper with each stroke.

“Look at you, getting all flustered… my little bunny can’t handle a bit of the attention now, hmm?” Jeonghan's grip on her hips tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh as he slammed into her, his cock filling her completely, hitting that sweet spot deep inside her that made her see stars. “That feel good? Yeah? Just like this?”

"Fuck, Jeonghan!" she cried out, her head tilting back, her blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. "Yes! Just like that!"

Jeonghan chuckled, his teeth sinking into her neck, marking her as he pounded into her, his hips moving with a ferocity that took her breath away.

Luna's fingers clawed at his back, her nails digging into his flesh, leaving red welts in their wake. She could feel the heat building inside her, her orgasm approaching like a freight train, threatening to consume her whole.

"Oppa– Han…," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I'm close."

He lifted his head, his eyes burning into hers, his jaw clenched as he fought for control. "Not yet, baby,” he tutted, his voice low and rough as he stopped making Luna whine.  "Not until I say so."

She glared at him, her chest heaving, her body aching for release. "You're being mean, Hannie," she panted, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

He smirked, before lifting her as he stood up off the chair, her legs wrapping around his waist as he placed her on the bed. "Am I being mean to you, bunny?" he cooed, his voice laced with amusement, "But you like it when I’m like this."

Luna's eyes flashed with anger, but he could see the desire burning in them, too.

She wanted this, needed this, just as much as he did. He leaned down, capturing her mouth in a fierce, demanding kiss, his tongue sliding in to tangle with hers. She moaned, her body melting into his, her legs tightening around his waist as she ground against him, seeking friction.

Jeonghan broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin, leaving marks that would remind her of this moment, of him, long after tonight was over. He pushed her back onto the bed, his body following hers down, his hips settling between her thighs.

Luna's breath hitched as she felt the weight of him, the hard length of him pressed against her, throbbing with need. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of desire and defiance, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath.

Jeonghan smirked, his eyes darkening as he took in her flushed cheeks, her swollen lips, and her heaving chest. "You're so fucking beautiful, my love," he murmured, his voice low and rough.

His hands traced patterns on her skin, his fingers skimming over her curves, making her shiver. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, hot and insistent, and it made her ache for him even more.

"Hannie," she whispered, her voice laced with desperation. "Please."

He chuckled, a low, dirty sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Please what, Nana-ya?" he teased, his fingers dipping lower, tracing the edge of her panties. "What do you want me to do to you?  “What is it, baby? You want more? Just say the word, and it’s yours.”

Luna's breath hitched, her body arching into his touch, her eyes locked onto his. "Fuck me, baby, please," she pleaded, her voice ragged with need. "Make me come.”

Jeonghan's eyes darkened, his grip on her thigh tightening as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down roughly. He grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide, and positioned himself at her entrance. She was soaking wet, her arousal coating his length, making it slick and easy for him to slide back in.

Jeonghan's eyes locked onto hers as he slowly pushed into her, inch by inch, filling her completely. “You know I’d do anything for you, right? Anything to make my baby happy. God– I’m in fucking love with you.”

He groaned, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment as he savored the feeling of being inside her, her tight heat enveloping him completely.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you, my sweet girl?” Jeonghan groaned as he continued to thrust into her. She could feel the heat building inside her, her orgasm approaching like a storm on the horizon.

“Han," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I can't... I can't hold on much longer."

Jeonghan moaned, his grip on her hips tightening, his fingers digging into her soft flesh. "Come for me, Jiyeonie," he commanded, his voice low and rough. "Come all over my cock, baby. Show me how much you love it."

Luna's breath hitched, her fingers clawing at his back as she felt the heat inside her coil tighter, ready to snap. "Han," she gasped, her voice ragged, "I'm gonna... I'm gonna..."

“I know, I know baby,” He tightened his hold on her, his hips slamming into hers, his cock filling her completely. "Do it, bunny," he grunted, his voice strained. "Come for me.”

And just like that, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave, consuming her whole.

“Fuck, Han!” She whined his name, her body convulsing beneath him, her inner walls clamping down around him, milking him for all he was worth. Jeonghan groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed her over the edge, his cock pulsing inside her, filling her with his hot seed.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies entwined, their breaths ragged as they came down from their high. Jeonghan rolled off her, his arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her close as he spooned her from behind.

Luna's breath was still ragged, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to regain some semblance of composure. She could feel Jeonghan's cock, still semi-hard, nestled against her ass, and it sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

"Fuck," Jeonghan murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice still heavy with desire. "You drive me insane. Only you, baby. Only ever you," Jeonghan told her, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down her spine.

She hummed in agreement, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the warmth of his body pressed against hers. "Only me," she agreed, her voice soft, intimate, as she turned to face him, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. Her back pressed further into him, feeling the steady beat of his heart matching her own.

"My pretty girl," he muttered against her lips, breaking the kiss to look at her, his gaze dark with desire and affection. "You're insatiable."

A smirk danced across her lips as she pulled away slightly, just enough to settle her head on his chest, draping herself over him with a kind of lazy confidence. "I can't help it," she whispered, her voice taking on a sultry edge. "You bring out the best and worst in me, Hannie."

Jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, wrapping his arms around her, fingers tracing idle patterns along her back. "Well, l'd hate to deprive you of such excellent inspiration," he replied, a playful glint in his eye. "Though if this is the 'worst' in you... I think I might be the luckiest guy alive."

She gave him a playful glare, swatting at his chest. "Don't get too cocky now," she teased, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

"Oh, baby," he cooed, eyes gleaming with that familiar mischief. "I think you're the only one allowed to be cocky here." He leaned down, brushing his lips over her forehead with a featherlight touch. "I'm just here to keep up, give you what you need, and maybe make you a little crazy along the way."

Luna let out a soft laugh, rolling her eyes at his words, but she felt her heart swell with the warmth only he could give her. "Maybe?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow.

"Fine," he conceded, smirking. "A lot crazy. But only for me, right?"

She settled back into him, her voice barely a whisper. "Only for you. Only ever you."

Luna hummed in satisfaction, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest as she snuggled closer, her body worn out from the intense lovemaking.

They lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking. Luna could feel Jeonghan's chest rising and falling rapidly under her, his heart beating rapidly against her ear. She could feel his lips pressed against her forehead, his arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

Luna savored the way Jeonghan made her feel— a feeling of belonging so profound that it left her utterly captivated. She felt claimed, possessed in the best possible way, like she was both his entire world and something he would fight to keep all to himself. No one had ever made her feel like this before, like she was more than just someone to hold.

Jeonghan made her feel desired, cherished, protected… all at once.

She loved the softness in his touch, the gentleness in his eyes, and the way he could melt her defenses with a single word. But she also loved the way he unleashed something wilder within her, something she hadn’t even known existed until she met him. He made her feel wild and untamed, free to give in to desires that once felt foreign, unrestrained in a way that sent a thrill racing through her.

For the first time in her twenty-six years of existence, Luna found herself thankful for the presence of that lingering shadow she usually kept hidden—possessiveness. It was always there, lurking quietly, rarely stirred.

But Jeonghan, with his effortless charm, his mischievous smile, and that knowing gaze, he brought it to life. And instead of shying away from it, she welcomed it. She embraced it because it meant she didn’t have to hold back when it came to him. She could be unapologetically hers and his all at once, unguarded in her feelings, reveling in the thrill of knowing he was hers to claim just as much as he claimed her.

Just as she was sinking into this feeling, basking in that delicious sense of belonging, a sudden thought shot through her mind, jolting her from the warmth of Jeonghan’s arms.

Luna gasped, sitting up abruptly.

Jeonghan’s eyes widened, his hand immediately coming up to steady her, a flash of worry crossing his face. “What?” he asked, his tone laced with confusion and a hint of alarm.

She pouted, her gaze darting toward the table. “My cake!” she exclaimed, voice tinged with frustration as she moved to get up.

Jeonghan watched her, and after a second of stunned silence, he sighed and chuckled, shaking his head in amused disbelief. “You’ve got to stop scaring me like that,” he muttered, standing up to grab the cake himself before she could.

Luna huffed, crossing her arms and shooting him a playful glare. “The cake, Han!” she complained, her pout only deepening at his apparent lack of urgency.

He held up his hands in surrender, smirking as he reached for the cake on the table. “Alright, alright,” he said, indulging her with a gentle tone, his voice full of doting affection as he brought it over to her. “Here’s your precious cake, my demanding little bunny that I love so much.”

“I love you more,” Luna replied instantly, her focus shifting entirely to the cake now in her hands, a gleam of satisfaction lighting up her face.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk. “Are you talking about the cake or me?” he asked, his tone deadpan but his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Luna’s head snapped up, her gaze narrowing as she glared at him, lips curling into a stubborn pout. She held the cake protectively, as if shielding it from any further teasing.

Jeonghan chuckled, clearly entertained by her reaction. He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against her cheek, his voice dropping to a soft, affectionate coo. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Nana-ya,” he teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “I know you love me more. But you’re still adorable when you’re pretending otherwise.”

Luna’s pout deepened, but the hint of a smile betrayed her. She rolled her eyes, and despite herself, her lips quirked upward just slightly.

Jeonghan’s chuckle turned into a warm laugh, his gaze filled with that familiar mix of mischief and adoration that only he could pull off. And in that cozy, sweet moment, with Luna clutching her beloved cake and Jeonghan’s laughter filling the room, the night felt perfect— just the two of them, in their own little world.

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[kathaynesart]

He was going to give him a big hug, but poor Casey looks like he might break at any moment so need to check first.

I had planned on more, but will leave this open for @somerandomdudelmao to react instead! <3 So happy to finally get to draw this interaction! Thank you everyone for your votes to get me here and good luck to Cass' Apocalypse as well as Life Mission and Bloodbath in the final round for the @tmntaucompetition!

For those of you who are confused or new, this is sort of a continuation from the Peepaw Showdown that happened a few months back. You can see the related comics here: Peepaw Showdown 1 Peepaw Showdown 2 Peepaw Showdown 3

Also, have to say that I really love that Casey Jr. has problems with crowded, big open spaces, so wanted to bring that feeling back into this. I'm sure it doesn't help when you're surrounded by a crowd of mutants who look kind of like your dead family, but not quite.

[little-diable]

Forever Mine – Harvey Specter (smut)

Y'all voted on reading my Harvey stuff, so here we go! I am so in love with this man, it's insane. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Harvey and the reader are best friends, but on the night when she asks him to pick her up from yet another horrible date, neither of them manages to hide their feelings any longer.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, jealousy, possessiveness, lots of feelings, friends to lovers

Pairing: Harvey Specter x fem!reader (2.4k words)

“Harvey?” Her voice rang in his ear, drawing his tired eyes towards the clock on his nightstand. It was far past midnight, and even though it wasn’t unusual for Harvey to be awake late into the night, it had been one of those nights where he had passed out the second he had found shelter in his bed, hours ago. 

“(Y/n)? What’s going on?” It took her a moment to reply, to let go of a sigh before finding her voice to answer her best friend’s question. 

“Could you pick me up from somewhere?” Harvey had already set into motion to put on his clothes with the phone balanced between his ear and shoulder. Heavy breaths left her, filled with a sadness that made his heart clench in his chest. 

“What happened, baby?” The nickname left him all too easily, even though it was something he hadn’t called his best friend in years. The sharp intake of air he heard urged him on to move even quicker to find his way out of his apartment.

“Do you remember the bar we went to last month with Mike?” Harvey gripped his car keys tighter, clenching them in his fist. A hum left him as he stepped out of the elevator, letting his shoes meet the cold ground while jogging towards his car. 

“I’m waiting there.” And without another word, (y/n) had ended the call. 

……

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, with her coat tightly wrapped around her frame, and her hands buried in the pockets of said coat. It had been a stupid idea, a fucking stupid idea, she shouldn’t have listened to her friends and how they had urged her to go on that date to finally get over her best friend – Harvey fucking Specter. 

It had been an awful date, nothing but a waste of her time, but deep down she had hoped it’d finally manage to take her mind off her best friend, the man (y/n) longed for with every rising of the sun. The man who’d never be hers. The man who looked at her with a love only family members shared, and nothing more. 

A cry wanted to break out of (y/n) at the familiar pain in her chest, squeezing her heart with its all too familiar grasp. Shaky breaths left her as she saw his car approach, needing to prepare herself for an uncomfortable conversation where Harvey would scold her for meeting up with a man like this, while being all too oblivious about her reasons for that date. 

“Thank you for picking me up.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek before properly sinking into the comfortable leather seat. Harvey’s hand found its rest on her knee, and with his thumb running over the exposed parts of her skin, due to her dress, he began driving. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” (Y/n) could tell that he was driving her back to his place, taking the all too familiar route she could probably walk blindfolded. Her heart was racing in her chest as it whispered to her, begging (y/n) to finally tell Harvey about the emotional chaos growing deep inside of her, while her mind forced her to stay quiet, to not risk a friendship she couldn’t live without. 

“Just a horrible date, nothing special.” The hand resting on her knee stopped moving, frozen to the spot as his eyes flickered to meet hers. For a moment, an uncomfortable silence began to fill the car, it clung to her like a second layer of skin, crawling up its limbs like a parasite. Dates had always been a struggling topic between the two, uncomfortable conversations they both tried to avoid. 

“Do I know the guy?” His voice was husky, growing lower with every further word he spoke. His fingers no longer stroked her skin, they had a tight grasp on her knee as if he was making sure she wouldn’t leave his side, not daring to let go as if he was scared to be alone.

“No, the girls introduced me to him.” Nothing but a hum left Harvey as a reply, letting the sound buzz through (y/n). Only as they arrived at his apartment complex to park the car did they find their voices again, sharing a small “Thank you” while Harvey helped her out of the car and led her to the elevator, with his hand placed on her lower back and his jacket wrapped around her frame. 

“Why do you always go on dates with these men? By now we both know your friends don’t have the best taste.” The question hung in the air, it forced a shudder down her spine while her heart slowly began to win the upper hand to silence her mind. Harvey was intently staring down at her, while keeping close to (y/n) with his hand moving from her lower back to her waist. 

“Don’t ask me this, please, Harvey.” Sadness dripped from her voice, followed by something he couldn’t pinpoint. But something inside of Harvey began to shift, it was whispering to him as if he could tell that whatever he’d force out of her, would change the outcome of this very night, a turning point neither could run from.

“You know I’m not one to back down, sweetheart.” Her tongue kissed her teeth while (y/n) pondered over her choices. She was grateful for the few seconds of silence they were offered as they stepped out of the elevator and entered the apartment she knew like the back of her hand. 

“Talk to me, (y/n), what’s going on?” Harvey was towering over her, even as she kicked off her heels and shrugged out of his jacket to expose the dress he loved seeing on her. His hands held onto her to guide her towards the couch, and even as they sat down next to one another, his hands held contact with her body. 

“Harvey, please, don’t make me do this.” She could tell that whatever he was waiting for her to say was different to what she was about to confess. Harvey was too oblivious, he wouldn’t ever pick up on the love she fostered for him, a secret that would turn their friendship into something (y/n) would curse herself for. Uneasy waters that would swallow them both without giving them a chance to swim. 

“It can’t be that bad, sweetheart. Is there something I don’t know? Did somebody hurt you?” Her glassy eyes got lost in his. She allowed herself to study her handsome best friend for a moment before slowly rising to her feet, desperately searching the now growing distance between the. If she was about to lay this on him, she needed some space, enough room to prepare herself to walk out of his door any moment now. 

Harvey’s jaw muscles ticked, he was growing impatient, angry even – about something he had awfully mixed up. He would burn down the earth for (y/n), would hurt anybody who dared to come too close to her. And yet he still didn't know that he was causing her this pain, a biting sensation that made bile rise in her throat.

“You wouldn’t get it, Harvey. Let it go.” Her eyes found the city below their feet, allowing her to study the numerous lights filling the darkness, the high buildings growing nearby and far away. It was a beautiful sight, a sight that tried to calm her aching heart, though without any luck. She heard Harvey move, could watch in the reflection of his big windows how he rose to his feet and walked up to her. 

“Talk to me, baby.” His muscular front was pressed against back, and for a moment (y/n) allowed herself to imagine being held by him like a lover would cling to their significant other. A thought that guided her next movements as she slowly turned in his grasp to stare up at her handsome best friend. 

With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) shifted her weight to press her lips against his. It was a quick kiss, a simple kiss, and yet it carried more meaning than any other kiss (y/n) had ever given. She felt him freeze at the touch, seemingly not expecting his best friend to cross that invisible line. 

“This is why I don’t want to talk about it with you, Harvey.” A tear dripped from her eye as the words rolled off her tongue. Harvey stared down at her with something so intense, (y/n) couldn’t help but peel herself out of his grasp, set on leaving his apartment and the man she had been in love with for years behind. 

“How dare you!” His angry words made her halt in her steps. Slowly, (y/n) turned back towards Harvey who wore an expression filled with hurt and anger. (Y/n) could only imagine how his opponents in court must feel whenever he directed his anger at them, forcing them to back down from any fight they couldn’t win – not against Harvey Specter.

“How dare you act as if I have no say in this. Have you ever wondered for just a second if I feel the same? If I was forced to carry the same heartbreak for years whenever you called me to pick you up from shitty dates with men who weren’t me?” Even though her heart began to race once again, begging (y/n) to realise what he had just confessed, her anger managed to guide her, letting her voice grow louder just like Harvey’s. 

“Then why didn’t you say something?” He stalked towards her, with eyes so fiery, (y/n) feared he’d burn her on the spot. Almost no space was left between them, with his chest pressed against hers to push her against the door, and his hand pressed to the spot next to her head. 

“Because I’d rather suffer from this heartbreak for years than risk losing you.” She got no time to reply as his lips came down on hers in a stormy kiss. (Y/n) instantly allowed her lips to move with his, letting their tongues tangle while her arms found their way around his neck. Moans rumbled through the both of them, sounds that rang in their ears like a song solemnly composed for this night only. Harvey’s hands found their way down her frame to pick her up without breaking the kiss, guiding them towards the kitchen where he placed her down on his kitchen island. 

“Promise I’ll take my time with you later, but fuck I need to be inside of you now.” Her excited chuckles left Harvey smirking as he shuffled her dress up to her waist, groaning at the sight of her drenched panties. She was mesmerised by the sight of Harvey lingering between her thighs, something (y/n) had only dared to dream of. 

“I bet your date thought he could have you like this tonight, spread out and ready to be fucked. But let me promise you something, sweetheart,” without breaking eye contact, Harvey ripped her panties apart to expose her aching heat to the colder temperatures now stroking her limbs. “No other man but me will ever get to see you like this again, from now on, you’re mine, you belong to me, and I will never share you.” 

“I only want to be yours, Harvey, like you will always be mine.” (Y/n) pulled him down for a kiss while he freed his cock from his dark trousers and reached for a condom. The seconds kept blurring by until Harvey finally pushed into her, letting his cock stretch her walls as his thumb circled her pulsing bundle.

Both moaned at the new sensation, having to adjust to something they had longed for all these years. With her back arched off the kitchen island, she let Harvey fuck her, letting their bodies meet with every thrust as if they were magnets finding together. A storm was rocking through them both, binding them together to forge another bond so strong, neither of them would ever be able to shake it off again.

Harvey’s name rolled off her tongue like a prayer, filling the apartment that would forever keep their deepest secrets. Both clung to the other as if they were scared that this was nothing but a dream, about to evaporate into a bitter nothingness as they’d be ripped from their sleep. 

Wandering hands kept searching the other’s closeness, clinging to the reminder that this was real, that this was not a trick of their brains but something they could forever cling to.

“I love you, fuck, I love you so goddamn much, (y/n).” Harvey’s moaned words left her heart somersaulting, forcing her upper body off the cold top of the kitchen island to meet his lips for a kiss. They were a tangled mess, and yet a mess so sweet, both were high on all the different sensations. 

“I love you too, Harvey.” Her walls fluttered around his cock as he met her swollen spot, pushing her closer to the edge. (Y/n) trembled beneath him, wordlessly begging his thumb to move faster, to circle her bundle with more pressure to push her closer towards her orgasm.

“Cum for me, baby, show me how pretty you look when you cum on my cock.” Harvey’s gritty voice gave her the needed push to cum beneath him. Her moans rang in his ears, filling every part of his body with an unfamiliar kind of pride he hadn't ever felt with another woman. His eyes didn’t stray from her pleasure-drunken features while fucking her through her high, a high he chased with ferocious thrusts.

Harvey came moments later with curses rumbling through him. She clung to him while his cock twitched inside of her, filling the condom with his release. Neither spoke a word as they stayed connected in the most intimate way, clinging to each other while the hazy fog of lust slowly began to lift. 

“Did this really just happen, Harvey?” Her whispered question left Harvey laughing. Slowly, he pulled out of her to toss away the condom before cupping (y/n)'s cheeks with his warm hands. His eyes studied her for a moment before pressing his forehead against hers to let go of a deep, relieved sigh. 

“It did, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you with me forever, sweetheart.”

[pinkgy]

URGENT

Please keep reading this, and if you can, please share this and anything related to this topic, we NEED visibility.

Nicolas Maduro fraudulently won yesterday’s presidential elections, I repeat, NICOLAS MADURO and his allies have committed fraud against VENEZUELA.

EDMUNDO GONZÁLEZ URRUTIA WON THE 2024 VENEZUELA PRESIDENTIAL ELECTIONS BY MORE THAT 70% OF THE VOTES, AND ALSO WON IN EVERY VOTING CENTER IN THE WHOLE COUNTRY. BUT THE DICTATORSHIP OF NICOLAS MADURO REFUSES TO BE TRANSPARENT AND STOLE THE ELECTIONS.

There’s just been a day since this was announced and there’s already tons of harmed and killed citizens, OUR PEOPLE IS GETTING KILLED FOR SPEAKING UP, AND THIS HAS ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THAT.

This is a dictatorship, one that has took the life’s of millions of Venezuelans in the past 25 years.

WE ARE SCARED, i am scared, I want to get out of my house and protest for a better future, for the freedom of my people and for peace to finally win in Venezuela, but I’m scared of getting killed for fighting for my rights. Venezuela right now is dangerous, even staying in your own house is dangerous.

I’m deeply proud of all of those who are on the streets right now, thank you so much for being so brave, and for fighting for this country.

We want to finally have a break, we’ve been suffering for way too long because of this government, this is nothing like what the foreigners think is going on, this is not about the the lack of food, this about that WAY more that half of the country can’t even afford to buy decent groceries with their monthly income (the minimum wage is 3.5$ PER MONTH, and whatever you hear out there where they say that is 800bs is a LIE)

This is not about the inflation, this is about that we have to use a foreign currency, because ours is WORTHLESS.

We are not the country with the biggest oil reserves on the world, the gas on the gas stations in Venezuela is from IRAN, our oil reserves are being STOLEN by the government.

Just by natural resources, we are supposed to be one the countries with the best economies in the world, but we have one of the WORST, because the government and those who are connected to them STEAL EVERYTHING.

We don’t wanna live this way anymore, I don’t wanna say goodbye to another family member, I don’t wanna say goodbye to another of my friends, I want them to stay, to come back, I want to celebrate Christmas with a table full of my loved ones, I want them to be part of my life, I want to be able to go out with my friends in car where there’s no empty spaces, I want to be free.

Please, to whoever is reading this, wherever your Venezuelan or not, please share this and everything related to what’s going on right now, we want this to have visibility, for the whole world to know what’s going on.

Here’s so important information that might help you to understand things a bit better.

And if you wanna know what’s going on the streets and the ATROCITIES this government is doing to Venezuelans, you can check this Twitter/X account. https://x.com/uhn_plus?s=21&t=811ZdyqLhYbY4z4zGa7Qlw

[cuephrase]

Most Disliked Robin Results!!

at long last, (some of) the data you've all been waiting for.

for those of you who are new, i put out a questionnaire to gather data in the interest of discovering if my personal hypothesis that knowing someone's #1 Robin tells you nothing really, but knowing their top two, now that gives you insight. i have since closed that questionnaire, and we are in the data crunching stage. in this anon ask, anon was curious which Robin was getting the most dislike votes. i shared the current numbers w/o revealing who was getting which votes, and invited y'all to vote for which Robin you thought was getting the most dislike votes.

these were the results of the prediction poll:

before i share the final results, with 745 responses, a disclaimer:

the data pool is extremely small in the grand scheme of things!! this data cannot be used to make definitive claims about fandom at large. this is simply what we observed from the small group of fans, predominantly from tumblr, who filled out my questionnaire. cool? cool.

for our purposes, a "Stan" is someone who marked X Robin as their #1 fave Robin, and a "Fan" is someone who marked X Robin in their top two. additionally, whenever you see a top two Duo, for example, Dick & Damian, the character mentioned first is that person's #1. so Dick & Damian duos are distinct from Damian & Dick duos!!

for the non-math nerds, the 95% CI*, or 95% Confidence Interval is there to show that if we were to poll a random 745 responders again, from the same communities, we're about 95% sure the true value is somewhere in here range. *this is a bit of a simplification, but uh, i am not a math teacher + google is free. (i thought about finding a snappy youtube vid but as soon as they started talking math i zoned out whoops.)

finally a big, big thank you to @chinajousama and @tevyaa for their data-crunching + formatting!! none of this would have happened nearly as quickly (or successfully) without them!! 🫶

overall dislike

raw count

converted to percentages with 95% CI

the most important takeaway here, imo, is that ~74% do not dislike any Robin. (shoutout to the Jason & Steph Duo who disliked Dick, Tim, and Damian tho, iconic.)

also, it is not at all what tumblr predicted!! tumblr predicted that dick would be least disliked (by virtue of him getting the least votes) and that's...about all that was correct from the prediction poll.

now how does this breakdown depending on Stans/Fans/Duos?

Stans' dislike (Y is responders #1 Robin)

raw count

converted to percentages with 95% CI

"hey!!" you say, "the math is not mathing- if i add up the bottom row i get 774/104%, not 745/100%." correct!! this is because responders were able to dislike more than one Robin.

if we gave the percentages for each row of the very first chart, (the one that lays out how people voted in all the permutations), those percents would add up to 100%. but since we're only breaking it down between the Robins, there's overlap. 14.8% of everyone disliked Tim, that number is true. however, that 14.8% of Tim Dislikers includes people who also disliked other Robins- it's not the percentage of people who exclusively dislike Tim.

tl;dr: it doesn't add up, but the math is right, trust.

"okay, fine, but why don't you have a 95% CI for everyone?" if the sample group was too small to make a prediction (received less than 5 responses), we decided not to give one because there's simply not enough data to give one worth having. tl;dr, if there's a 0.00%* in the 95% CI chart, don't read into those stats too hard!!

Fans' dislike (Y is in responder's top duo)

raw count

converted to percentages with 95% CI

already you can see some differences compared to the Stans' Dislikes- most percentages go up a bit, but a few go down.

now let's see what happens when we look at the breakdown over Duo's Dislike

Duo's dislike

raw count

converted to percentages with 95% CI

note the differences!! for instance, all Jason-first Duos are more likely to dislike Tim than the percentage given for Jason Stans, except for Jason & Tim duos, which duh, but also, Jason & Tim is the second most common Jason-first Duo, making up 25.3% of Jason-first Duos.

also!! Tim fans are the least likely to dislike overall, with 83.2% not disliking any Robin, however, Tim stans, specifically Tim & Dick Duos are the most likely to dislike Damian. (*cough* lingering Red Robin grudge, perhaps? *cough* Tim Stans: i can let a lot of shit go, but that. that i cannot. [i'm a Tim Stan, i'm allowed to tease them, okay?])

another crucial thing to point out here is that the percentages represent how likely Y Duo is to dislike X Robin. this distinction is significant because while it is correct to say that, (based off this data pool), Steph & Damian Duos are the most likely to dislike Tim, it is incorrect to say that most Tim dislikers are Steph & Damian Duos.

"huh??"

something, something squares and rectangles If you grab a random Steph & Damian Duo responder, they are the most likely out of all the Duo responders to dislike Tim. However, if you were to grab a random Tim Disliker responder, the odds of that responder being a Steph & Damian Duo are pretty low.

by number, Dick & Damian Duos make up the biggest portion of Tim Dislikers (26 out of 110 votes). however, they also make up the biggest portion of responders overall with 92 votes, whereas Steph & Damian only got 22.

(side note, if you're like, whoa but Dick & Jason won the tumblr poll- overall, there were more responders that had Dick and Jason in their top 2, however they were split 82/64 and Dick and Damian was split 92/29. those splits are also super interesting to see, bc some are pretty even and others aren't.)

okay, so what's the takeaway here? repeat after me: everybody 👏hates 👏 Tim!! 👏 loud incorrect buzzer yeah, no so the main takeaway here is that so far, it's looking like there is visible variation depending on a Stan/Fan's Duo compared to Stan/Fan opinion. also, that most Robin fans don't dislike a Robin. you can relax, odds are blorbo is not under attack. unless you're a Tim stan. jk jk, i'm sorry, him having 14.8% dislikability is just hysterical to me, like do you see the social distancing, Jason is the second most disliked and Tim has more than double his numbers LMAO.

especially bc that 14.8% is just like, out of all responders, how likely Tim is to be disliked, right, follow me here, hehe. 110 of 223 dislike votes cast were for Tim, right, so of the dislike votes cast there is a ~49.3% chance that a dislike vote is a dislike Tim vote.

but!! if we condense that 223 (dislike votes cast/remember that 1 responder could dislike multiple) to 194 (the actual number of responders who disliked), then it's 110 out of 194, so if a Robin fan dislikes anyone, there is a ~56.7% that they dislike Tim.

try not to laugh at that, i dare you.

now, as a Tim stan, i think this makes sense because out of all the Robins, Tim has the most on panel interaction with every other Robin compared to the others, so like, if any Robin is going to show up and annoy you, odds are it's Timbo. factor in fanfic trends and uh...look, do i love Tim? yes. (i love them all, but that's beside the point.) do i think he's annoying af. also yes. it's part of the appeal, i mean hot people get it, i mean this data is not shocking to me but it is, clearly, deeply amusing. that being said, you might be under attack, because responders were wayyyy more likely to find a Robin Stan annoying than they were to dislike a Robin hehehe. sorry, sorry, i swear i'm not trying to shart shit. i mean, start shit. that was an honest typo but i'm so tired rn and it's funny so i'm leaving it, forgive me. what are your thoughts? any of this surprising to you, or does it track with your predictions? tysm for participating if you responded to the questionnaire!! and if you didn't, no worries, enjoy the Findings. please remember that the goal of this questionnaire/sharing the Findings is not to grade other fans on whether they're "good"/"bad"- discuss to your heart's content but let's try and keep the wank/bad faith takes to a minimum, yeah? thank youuuuu

also enjoy this at a glance graph!! the bars are error bars, they represent that 95% CI :)

anyways!! i just threw a ton of data at you, if there's anything you would like to see me elaborate on/any questions you have, please feel free to send me an ask and we'll do our best to deliver!! there's truly so much to unpack here.

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Water is Thicker Than Blood Chapter 33

So neither deuce nor Yamato, im sorry to say :) but now i know NONE of you were expecting this guy (he is a canon character btw)

{Start} {Prev Next}

“Ass?” Is one of my fav gags that ive had saved up for a while, im glad its finally free!!!!

Everyone please read the keep reading :) 👇

I rigged it~

i bet you guys werent expecting i pull out one of the least known characters in all of One Piece for this silly little comic!

But~! ☝️

i do my research~~~

---

At the time of posting this, the results could not be closer, which has been a very thrilling ride for me to watch with Overseer Knowledge.

I'd say that those who voted 'Another Canon Character' get half credit, since no one guessed the character correctly. Who ever voted 'OC' also gets half credit, cuz i meann... This guy doesn't have a canon design. He doesn't even have a canon name! So even though he is a canon character, i am going to count him as a KOC (kinda Original Character)

---

Yamato Girlies, thank you for showing up [i hand you a bouquet of flowers, each] if it makes you feel any better, i already have Yamato content with design and headcanons galore in this post!

---

As for Deuce Girlies...

[i hand you guys bouquets as well]

im so sorry... but... I've never read the Ace Novels :D

I'm sure if i had, i would have put him in here somewhere as a major character, but I didnt, and i couldnt

it is very evident by the reactions i got on the post that yall are Starved For Deuce Content!

i designed a modern au look for him here just for you guys :)

---

I've put a lot of foreshadowing on who this guy is in the comic! I would love to point it all out, but i wanna see if you guys get it with hind sight :D

i will point it all out eventually though 👍 perhaps at the next SBS :)

---

Thank you all so much for being so invested in my silly little comic! it makes me really happy to see everyone get passionate about something I've been working really hard on!!!

This was all so much light hearted fun :) thanks again!

bonus unshaded/ less shaded Emmanuel design:

so you can see his colors~

[doumadono]

sinful sunday - can i ask for wrio and reader who rides him after a training she had with him (sry for my english)

Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, cunnilingus, cowgirl, creampie, fem!reader

A/N: this request got the second number of votes during the third Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY GENSHIN IMPACT

The training sessions with Wriothesley were never easy, but today had been particularly grueling. 

The sweat trickled down your spine as you leaned against the cool stone wall of the training room, trying to catch your breath. Wriothesley, the stern and unwavering Duke of Meropide, had pushed you to your limits, and beyond.

"You're improving," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your exhausted body. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, the muscles in his arms flexing under his damp shirt. His intense gaze met yours.

"Thanks to you," you replied, managing a smile despite your weariness.

He stepped closer, the proximity making your heart race faster than the intense sparring session had. "It's not just me," he said, his eyes darkening as they raked over your form. "You have strength within you. You just need to unleash it."

His words hung heavy in the air, laden with a meaning that transcended the physical training you had just endured. You had always admired his determination and unyielding spirit, but lately, those feelings had morphed into something deeper, something more primal.

"Wriothesley," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. The intensity of his gaze made it difficult to find the right words, so you opted for action instead. Stepping closer, you placed a tentative hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under your palm.

Without another word, you climbed your tippy toes, and leaned in, pressing your lips to his. 

For a moment, he didn't respond, and you feared you had crossed a line. But then his hands were on your waist, pulling you closer, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, the dark haired man smirked. "You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N," he growled, his grip on your waist tightening.

"I know," you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation. "But it's a risk I'm willing to take."

With a low growl, he captured your lips again, his kiss demanding and possessive. 

You melted against him, your hands roaming over his broad shoulders, feeling the hard muscles beneath. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of sweat and something uniquely Wriothesley.

He broke the kiss abruptly, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "Are you sure you want this?"

"More than anything," you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you.

That was all the confirmation he needed. In a swift motion, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the nearby cot where you often rested after training. He laid you down gently, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his shirt, revealing the chiseled perfection of his body.

You couldn't tear your gaze away, your breath hitching as he crawled over you, his weight pressing you into the cot. His hands were everywhere, exploring every curve of your body with a reverence that made you ache for more. When his lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, you couldn't suppress the moan that escaped your lips.

"Wrio," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his dark hair.

He growled in response, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you shiver with anticipation. "Say my name again," he commanded, his voice rough with desire as his calloused hands slipped under your tank top, squeezing your breasts harshly.

"Wriothesley," you breathed, the sound of his name on your lips sending a thrill through you.

His hands moved lower, tugging at the hem of your top. 

You helped him remove it, the cool air of the training room a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your bodies. When his hands cupped your breasts again, his thumbs teasing your nipples, you arched into his touch, your moans growing louder.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his lips brushing against your collarbone. "So strong, so fierce."

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond as his mouth traveled lower, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. 

When the Duke reached the waistband of your shorts, he paused, his eyes meeting yours in a silent question.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling with pure need.

With a smirk, he obliged, removing your shorts and panties in one swift motion. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, but the sight of Wriothesley between your legs quickly erased any discomfort. 

His lips and tongue explored your stomach, gliding over the taut muscles and down to your mound. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them wide as he lowered his mouth to your pretty pussy.

The first touch of his tongue was electric, a jolt of pleasure that had you crying out his name. 

He was relentless, his mouth and tongue working in tandem to drive you wild. 

He traced his tongue into you, flicking along your needy clit, sending waves of pleasure through your tensed body. 

You moaned, trying to wiggle closer to get his tongue pressed harder against your moist folds. 

Slowly, he licked you, watching you writhe and moan in pleasure, taking satisfaction in the effect he had on your body. Soon, Wriothesley began to lick faster, working you into a frenzy. Just as you teetered on the edge of orgasm, he plunged two fingers deep inside you, thrusting them hard as he suckled your bud. 

Your hands clutched at the edges of the cot, your body writhing under his touch. "Wriothesley," you gasped, your voice breaking as the pressure built within you. "I can't… I'm going to —"

He didn't let up, his eyes locking onto yours as he pushed you over the edge. 

Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing with the force of it. Your release came swiftly, your juices spilling onto his tongue and chin. 

He eagerly lapped at you, savoring the sweet taste as you climaxed. “That’s my girl.” He held you through it, his hands soothing and grounding as you slowly came back to yourself. Before you could fully recover, he was on you again, his mouth claiming yours in a bruising kiss. 

You could taste your juices on his lips. "Wrio," you panted, your hands fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants. "I need you. Now."

He groaned, the sound vibrating through you as he quickly discarded his remaining clothes. When he finally pressed against you, the feel of his hard length against your slick folds had you moaning in anticipation.

But you decided you wouldn't let him reclaim his dominance this time, as he had so many times before, whether at work, during training, or anywhere else. Wrapping your legs tightly around his hips and your arms around his neck, you summoned all your strength and rolled with him, pinning him to the mattress. You mounted him like he was a stallion, determined to take control.

Wriothesley's eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback, not used to having his control usurped so suddenly. But before he could protest, you silenced him with a passionate kiss, your lips melding with his in a fierce dance of desire.

You could feel his initial surprise melting away, replaced by a burning need. As you kissed him deeply, you ground your slick pussy gently against his erect member, the friction sending electric jolts of pleasure through both of you. 

His calloused hands found their way to your hips, gripping them with a mix of desperation and delight as he surrendered to the sensation.

The feel of him, hard and ready against your pussy, made you moan softly.

You lifted one leg, positioning yourself over him, and grabbed his thick cock to guide it into your needy hole. Slowly, you worked your way down, inch by inch, until your pussy lips reached the base of his cock. The sensation of Wriothesley filling you, stretching you, was overwhelming. You paused, savoring the feeling, before beginning to move. Leaning forward, you placed your hands on either side of his muscular shoulders for support. Your breasts hung down over him, and his hands found them like magnets, kneading the flesh gently.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn tight, babe,” Wriothesley murmured before lifting his head slightly to wrap his lips around one of your nipples.

You started to move your pelvis up and down, gasping. “Yes, yes, yes, oh dear Archon!”

Wriothesley began to lift his pelvis in sync with yours, hitting all of the sweet, spongy spots deep within your drenched pussy.

You raised your hips together, his massive cock deep inside you, then he lowered his hips, pulling part way out of your cunny. You then lowered yourself back onto him, pushing him back in your tight hole. “Just like that, Wrio!”

He groaned, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrust up to meet you. "You're incredible," he growled, his eyes locked onto yours. 

The sound of your breathless moans, and the slap of skin against skin filled the room, echoing off the stone walls. There was just you and him, and no one else existed.

As his movements grew more urgent, you sensed from the way his hands tightened on your breast and hip, and from the rhythm of his thrusts that he was close to cuming. You sped up your movements, riding him harder until he gasped and stilled beneath you. You lowered your pelvis onto him, taking him as deep as you could, and watched as he surrendered to his release.

Your body trembled, your nails digging into his chest as you rode out your own waves of pleasure. 

"Fuck!" Wriothesley cursed as he spilled his seed deep within you. He could feel your velvety walls spasming around his throbbing length as if trying to milk every drop of his cum.

For a long moment, you stayed there, entwined, your bodies slick with sweat and trembling with the aftershocks of your passion. 

Wriothesley pulled you down into his arms, his grip firm and reassuring as you nestled against his chest, his cock still buried deep within you. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

"More than okay," you replied, a satisfied smile spreading across your face as you pecked his cheek.

"Good," he said, his hands caressing your back, and moving down to playfully squeeze the meat of your ass. "Because I want to do this again. And again."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

[covenofagatha]

Could you write Agatha/reader where the reader discovers they have a nursing kink 🫠 The ending of chp2 of sugar&spice was so so comforting

I don't know if this is exactly what you had in mind for this request, but hopefully you still like it! Thank you to everyone who voted for this, here you go!!

Nurtured Desires

When your mom's best friend who just had a baby gets caught without a pump, you take matters into your own hands to help her out.

Word count: 1900+

Warnings: nursing kink, lactation, fingering

You’ve always found your mom’s best friend, Agatha Harkness, incredibly attractive. 

But ever since she gave birth three months ago, there’s been something even hotter about her. 

Maybe it’s the way she’s always exhausted but still finds time to smile at you when she sees you. 

Maybe it’s her nurturing side on display that’s tapping into some unresolved mommy issues you have. 

Or maybe it’s the way her breasts are huge and full and she makes no effort to hide her cleavage. 

You feel like a gross guy every time you find your eyes drifting down, but who can blame you? 

You’re pretty sure Agatha has seen you staring a few times, too. But every time, she just gives you a smirk with an imperceptible shake of her head, like she’s scolding you because she knows that she should, not that she wants to.

Her kid, Nicholas, is cute enough. You don’t really know enough about babies to have an opinion, but he gurgles and giggles when he sees you sometimes. When you hold out your finger to him, he’ll grab it with his entire fist and it makes you smile. 

Your mom had been named Nicky’s godmother and you had tagged along with her to the baptism. You can still remember how it felt when Agatha had hugged you, pressing her breasts against your chest. You had been able to think of very little else during the ceremony. 

Agatha had the two of you over to her house a lot after her son was born. Your mom was all too happy to help out, as Nicky’s father was barely ever home and Agatha was exhausted. You kept the older woman company while doing homework for your college classes in the kitchen while she prepared a light snack or in the living room while she caught up on the newest episode of the show she was watching. 

But it was inevitable that Nicky would start crying and Agatha would have to take him into her bedroom to feed him. 

Is it weird that you wanted to know what it was like?

Never before had you been so transfixed by the thought of that, and you had been around several of your mom’s and older sister’s friends who had given birth. 

But everytime, when Agatha could come back out of the room, holding Nicky with her shirt unbuttoned more than it had been, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. 

There is something especially different about today. 

It’s Thanksgiving, and every year Agatha has a lunch where she invites people from the neighborhood over. Her husband has taken Nicky to his parents’ house to give her a break and it seems like she is back to her normal self.

But Agatha has decided to wear a short, tight, navy dress with a very low cut, reminding you that something was still not normal. 

You’re practically drooling over her. There are several times that someone says something to you that you don’t even hear because you’re too busy staring. 

Is she wearing a push-up bra? How are they that perky? You’ve never wanted to suck on something more. 

You physically shake your head to get rid of those thoughts. 

She is your best friend’s mom. She just had a baby. She is married. 

You repeat those sentences like a mantra as you finish helping cook the food. You’ve been tasked with making mashed potatoes, which is a pretty easy job. 

Finally the meal is ready, and while you’re setting the table with your mom and another friend of hers, you notice that Agatha is nowhere to be found. You frown and check back in the kitchen. She’s not there. 

“Mom, did Agatha go to the bathroom?” You ask, hoping she doesn't ask why you care so much. Your mom shrugs absentmindedly, too focused on balancing the plate of cranberry sauce with the bowl of casserole so she doesn’t drop either. 

You glance at the hall bathroom to find the door open. Spurred on by something, you head up the stairs, just to make sure Agatha’s alright. It’s not like her to just disappear. 

“Agatha?” You call out and you hear a muffled sound coming from her bedroom. You can hear the front door open downstairs and you assume more guests are arriving. You tentatively walk into her room, the floor creaking. 

And that’s where you find her sitting on the bed, her back to you. 

“You okay?” You ask, not really sure what’s going on or how to explain what you’re doing. 

She sniffs and turns around and your jaw falls open. 

There’s two damp spots on her chest, visible on the navy material. 

“Uh–” You have no idea what to say. 

“I’m such an idiot, I had all the nursing stuff in Nicky’s bag and it’s with my husband, and I thought I would be okay,” she mutters angrily and you walk over to where she’s sitting, as if in a trance. You think you can smell it. 

“Is there anything I can do?” You ask breathily, falling to your knees in front of her. It sounds like you’re on something and she looks at you with surprise and maybe a little of something else. 

“You want to help me?” Her eyebrow raises like she’s daring you, but you don’t back down. You nod and her lips part. You think her pupils are dilating. “I see you staring, you know. You’re not subtle.” 

You shrug shamelessly, hands coming up to rest on her bare thighs. She gasps as the touch. You think she must be so sensitive. “Let me help, please,” you beg, staring up at her. 

She holds your gaze for a second and then obliges, reaching behind her to drag the dress zipper down. Your heart stutters in your chest when the front of the dress loosens and more and more of her pale skin is revealed. She’s wearing what looks like a special kind of bra and you move to touch without even realizing. 

You cup her swollen breast and run your thumb over her nipple through the fabric. Agatha’s breath hitches and she bites her lip, eyes watching you through hooded lashes. 

“Baby,” Agatha says, silently communicating what she needs, and you pull her right breast out over the bra, sit up on your knees, and take her leaking nipple into your mouth. 

Her head falls back and you moan at the taste. It’s so warm and rich and you start suckling, just wanting to bring her some relief. 

“Fuck,” she says sharply and you feel a spark of heat grow inside you. You keep drawing out the milk and her hand comes down to grab your left one and bring it to her other breast. You scrabble with her bra and she eventually gets fed up and reaches behind her to take it off. You have to take your mouth off of her for a second and she whines at the loss of the stimulation, but you quickly make up for it by sucking her other nipple into your mouth. 

The spark has become an ache, but you’re too caught up in the taste of the older woman to care. 

You use your teeth and tug and her fingers bury into your hair, holding you close. You can hear her making small noises and you switch your mindless lapping to a slow, steady rhythm of deep sucks. She brushes your hair out of your face so she can see you better and is perfectly content to watch you like that. 

You move back to the right nipple, but play with the left with your free fingers. She whimpers when you’re particularly rough with a suck and her hips jerk. 

You freeze around her breast and meet her eyes, which are completely glazed over with lust and desire. 

“Please touch me,” she whispers, hands moving down to hike up her dress. “I need it so bad.” 

Who are you to say no? You reach up under her skirt and feel her underwear and you gasp, her nipple dropping out of your mouth. 

She is soaked. Her underwear is dripping. You wouldn’t be surprised if there was a puddle on the bed under her. You almost cum on the spot. 

You slide them to the side and push two fingers in easily, eyes widening at the feeling of her warm and wet walls clenching around you. Agatha inhales above you and drags your mouth back to her nipple. You latch on, resuming your sucking, and you start moving your fingers. You curl with every thrust, teething harder on her nipples and drinking her milk, and she bucks her hips up every time. You rub her clit with your thumb and her moans are getting louder with all the stimulation. 

“Fuck, baby, so good, so close,” she pants. You can feel her getting tighter around you and you increase the pace of your fingers, sucking rougher. 

She cums and it’s explosive. There’s a gush of milk into your mouth and the hand on her other nipple gets drenched. You fuck her through her orgasm, still sucking the remaining milk out of her, until it gets too much and she pushes you off. 

You’re both breathing hard. You can feel how sticky and wet you’ve become between your legs, but you know better than to ask Agatha for help with that now. You're not sure what this even was.

“Feel better?” You joke and she chuckles, ruffling her hair. 

“Yes, thank you, dear. You seemed like you enjoyed that.” 

Now it’s your turn to laugh. “Yeah, I didn’t really know I was into that. Anytime Nicky isn’t around, just call me up.” It’s meant to be a jestful quip, but her eyes darken. 

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She muses and the blush on your face gives you away. “Okay, go back downstairs now and rejoin the party. We’ve both been gone long enough. I need to change clothes.” You start to move but she stops you. “Oh–and sweetheart?” 

You pause and look back at her. Agatha swipes her thumb across your chin and holds it up, milk droplets coating it. Before thinking, you take it into your mouth and suck, much like you had just been doing to her nipples. Her low groan excites you, but she’s right. At the very least, your mom is wondering where you were. 

“Thank you,” she says with genuine gratitude in her voice and you smile. “Now, go.” She playfully swats your shoulder to shoo you away and you bite back the urge to ask if it’ll happen again. 

You glance back when you get to the door just in time to catch a hint of her naked body and you have to force yourself out of the room so you don’t accidentally go back in for more. 

When you go downstairs, your mom immediately finds you. 

“Where have you been?” She asks. “The food is all ready, we’ve already started eating.” 

“Oh, I had to help Agatha with something.” Technically not a lie. 

She purses her lips but can’t complain. “Well, come get some food before it’s all gone.” 

There’s footsteps on the stairs and you look up to find Agatha walking down in a maroon suit and your mouth runs dry. She sees you staring – like always – and gives you a wink. 

“You know, I’m not really hungry,” you say to your mom, completely distracted by the older woman and the taste of her milk that’s still on your tongue.