#this is a fun question and you are the first one to ask it ever

[paarksunghoon]

resignation (4)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: please do not ask me about chapter updates.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: kissing & dry humping.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

please leave a comment/reblog and let me know what you think!

***

What does it mean when you have a wet dream about your boss? 

Surely this happens to everybody. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about because the other party involved has no idea what transpired. This feeling is like accidentally calling your teacher “Mom” or “Dad,” only a thousand times worse. 

You don’t remember much, only fragments and jump cuts that make you question if what you dreamt was real at all. But you remember what his naked chest and torso looked like and the way your hands roamed the expanse of his skin as you sat on top of him. You remember the way his legs parted to situate your body on his thighs, and you remember the way he looked when he was tugging on his dick to finish all over your body. 

It was enough to wake you with a startle. 

It’s just before 5AM and nothing you do can put you back to sleep. Your heart is beating erratically, and your mind races from scenario to scenario. Revisiting the remnants of your dream makes you flustered and you feel guilty. Surely it’s normal to think about your boss like that, right? 

There’s not much that Sunghoon isn’t perfect at. He can be a bit impatient and particular, but he’s the epitome of everybody’s dream. He’s so sure of himself all of the time and knows what he wants. Most importantly, Sunghoon is not afraid of pursuing his goals until the very end. 

It’s unfortunate that passionate, secure men are exactly your type. You don’t play games; you’re too old for that. This will-they-won’t-they is a thing of the past and a scenario you would’ve loved to experience back when you were seventeen. In adulthood, you appreciate men who respect your independence and find it attractive, even. 

Hearing Sunghoon tell his colleagues he knows to trust you because of how you need little help does more damage than good. Sunghoon’s praise is not the basis of your career, but it’s an added bonus when it all comes down to it. 

He’s everything you could ever want in a guy, but you can’t do anything about it. You haven’t been able to think about how attractive you found him to be upon the first day of meeting him because Sunghoon is your boss. He’s the one who delegates your work and at the end of the day, it would be unprofessional. 

It doesn’t stop you from having wet dreams about him, apparently. 

Getting yourself to leave your apartment is much harder than it usually is. You refuse to get in your car for a while and try to stall yourself until the inevitable anxiety about being late to work pushes you to get in it. Music doesn’t help quell your mind on the drive either. It all sounds like static noise to you with how loud and vibrational the wet dream is. Pulling up to the parking garage and your designated spot feels like a challenge. Stepping into the lobby and riding the elevator up to your floor feels damn near suffocating. 

It’s just your luck that Sunghoon happened to show up earlier than you did for once, truly. You like to be prepared and have a daily agenda to go over with him, but you need your peace and quiet to gather all your thoughts and priorities before beginning the workday. 

He stands with his back facing you. Sunghoon’s broad shoulders are covered by a black button down with sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow. Your breath hitches and you don’t think you can handle seeing him if he turns around, especially when you know he could probably see how you’re out of it today. 

You take a few deep breaths before your heels click against the hardwood floor, alerting Sunghoon of your presence. He turns around when he hears you and you try not to trip and fall. Damn his good looks so early in the morning. Damn him for not needing any makeup while you caked your under eyes with concealer. Screw him for looking so attractive when you’re trying to think of him as anything but. 

“Morning.”

“You’re here early.” 

Sunghoon smiles. “I know. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I figured I’d come to the office early.” 

Did he have a wet dream about you too?

The thought disappears as soon as you think it because that seems both ludicrous and egotistical. Sunghoon doesn’t think of you like that. He sees you as his personal assistant and nothing more. 

Why does that feeling disappoint you? 

You’re desperately trying to keep a calm demeanor as you walk closer towards him. You try your hardest to push the dream away from your mind as the two of you look at each other, and instead take a seat by your desk. He follows behind you and lingers by the front of it as you take out your legal pad to write today’s agenda. The weight of his eyes are heavy.

“No meetings until 11AM when the Choi’s come for an informational meeting with the Decelis company for lunch at the InterContinental, and begin discussing the steps until I resign for good.”

“You have your shit down.” 

“It’s my job.”

“Do we really have to talk about the fact that you’re quitting?” 

You turn your chair to face him. “Yes. I’m leaving in a month and a half, there are a million projects I need to finish, and I need to make sure your new assistant has what it takes.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” 

“I have. It’s my decision and I stand by it. But I really did enjoy my time at this company and I want to make sure you have somebody who can manage you.” 

“Manage me?” 

You smirk when he chokes. “Don’t act like you’re a saint, Sunghoon. You rely on me for nearly all of your business and I’ve learned more about this company’s inner workings than anybody else. My work is triple what other assistants do at this office, but it gets results.”

“I’m passionate about my job.” 

“So am I.” 

Sunghoon leans over your desk and puts both palms on the wood below him. He looks at you and bends down until he’s significantly closer to your face. Even with the clear distance between the both of you, your cheeks feel like they’re heating up. Suddenly, your dreams from the night before reappear in your vision. You start imagining what Sunghoon would look like without his shirt on at this very angle. 

“You’re the best at what you do. You’re smart, intuitive, and you’re not afraid to argue with me and hurt pride. I’ve never had a business partner who’s been as sharp as you.” 

You’re nearly stunned into silence. Sunghoon’s plush lips look inviting and his piercing stare makes you feel all kinds of things an assistant shouldn’t be feeling about her boss. His words still register and float around your head.

“Business partner is a stretch.” 

“You make ideas and execute them. That’s more than what a personal assistant would do. It’s commendable how much you’ve learned about this company over the years.”

“The best I can do is help you find a worthy assistant. 

“I suppose.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything after that. Instead, he turns away without looking at you and retreats into his office. 

***

What makes a good assistant? 

So far, your list consists of:

Sense of urgency.

Able to meet deadlines.

Pays close attention to fine details and can multitask. 

Able to operate basic functions like Google and Microsoft Suite. 

Willing to work overtime, including nights and weekends. 

Manage calendars and be the bridge between employer and client.

Fulfill and execute holiday gifting for clients and partners. 

Create and maintain lists when needed. 

Of course, those are just the basic managerial tasks you do on a day to day basis. If you could be honest about what this job entails, the list would look something like:

Have a strong sense of urgency. 

Cannot be afraid to speak to strangers and build repertoire. 

Knows how to read a room and make judgment based on intuition. 

Knows how to speak multiple languages, even if merely conversational. 

Is an early bird and a night owl. 

Won’t be scared by how little time off is able to be taken.

Won’t be upset when needed to work very early hours and late evenings. 

Will not complain about accompanying the employer to personal matters. 

Knows how to be confident in a room full of people.

Doesn’t tolerate bullshit. 

Writing this job listing feels impossible at this point. It’s too long, too broad, and too complicated. You delete the entire draft and stare at the blank page as if to hope the listing to write itself. You’re trying to pass the time because your meeting with Sunghoon to discuss the next steps before you leave makes you feel like you’ll go insane.

But most of your projects are waiting on other people now. It’s a blessing and a curse to be one step ahead of everybody else. You’ve done all you could to follow up and distract yourself with your duties, but you can’t do anything until other people present their parts. 

Writing this job listing is something you’ve been putting off for the past week. It seems too hard to truly encapsulate what this job entails. It’s been bittersweet to walk down memory lane and think about all of the strengths you’ve learned over your time with Sunghoon. You want to do right by him and pick somebody that’s worthy of this position. You’ve spent so much of your career dedicated to him and the last thing you want is to undo all of the work you’ve done. 

Time doesn’t seem to be moving any faster and the thought of being alone with him after his obligations makes you feel uneasy. He lets you work in peace while he does his job. It’s not until an hour before his meeting do you see Sunghoon. It was hard to remain a stoic professional with a client when all you can think about is having sex with him on the large oakwood table your arms are resting on. When Sunghoon leaves for his lunch meeting, you picture his face buried deep in your cunt below your own desk. 

The way you think of your boss is unbecoming. There is a clear, set boundary you need to respect and maintain. But being near him makes things harder for you. 

If you were a better person, you’d quit while you’re ahead and stick to yourself until you were free from this company. It’s hard to work alongside somebody you’re physically attracted to. You see him walking around in his suits, so impeccably dressed that you’re not surprised at just how many people seek him out. He’s on magazine covers and rubs elbows with Korea’s rich and famous. Sunghoon’s circle resembles that of people who don’t need to think twice about spending money because they know it’ll never run out. The fact that he’s handsome, smart, and wealthy isn’t lost on you. In fact, it makes things that much worse. 

You’re not any of that. You don’t come from obscene wealth, nor do you have the friends and connections that Sunghoon does. You live in his world only as an adjacent, and then you go back to your apartment and order Chinese takeout while trying to feel like a regular human being. The imposter syndrome is what keeps you up at night. You’re afforded luxurious ways to travel, fine dining and drinks, and free clothes from time to time, but all of it is in the name of Sunghoon. He’s the one with the power to grant you these opulent wishes. You’re here because of him and who he is within society, not because it thinks you deserve to be here. 

It aches you to think that the next person to have your job will likely come to this startling truth like you did. Coming home to a small, studio apartment after an all expenses paid business trip to Berlin was a cold splash of water to the face. You are nothing without the company you work for. Somewhere along the line, you started to resent this lifestyle. It has consumed your life in ways you never thought imaginable. The late nights, days away from your bed, and the constant urge to prove yourself worthy is never ending. Even now, when most of Sunghoon’s colleagues and acquaintances know your name, people think of you as a mere servant.

The task then becomes how you can convey this through the job listing without making it sound like this job is miserable. It can be, but hinting at that is neither professional nor is it realistic. You need to find a worthy successor before you effectively leave. You can’t leave Sunghoon hanging without trying your best. He’s been good to you throughout the years, and the least you can do is make sure his next assistant doesn't make him resent having one. 

When Sunghoon is back from his lunch meeting, you’re calmer than you were at the beginning of the day. Knowing he’s been out of your sight has been good to quell your nerves. So has eating lunch. Instead of joining other assistants at the cafeteria, you’ve elected to pack yourself a lunch and enjoy the confines of your office until it’s time for you to go back to work. That hour is spent distracting yourself through Instagram, where an endless scroll of videos provides more entertainment than work does. 

It’s nearly four in the afternoon when Sunghoon comes back from his lunch meeting. He comes back looking triumphant and stops by your office after putting his suit jacket away in his office closet, knocking once before opening the door. 

“I take it the meeting went well?” you ask, not bothering to look up from your monitor as you type an email. 

“Swimmingly. Decelis has agreed to our terms and I had a very wonderful filet mignon as well.”

“BigHit called and requested a formal introduction. You have availability next Wednesday at 8AM and the following Tuesday at 10AM.”

“Let’s do Tuesday. Nobody likes an 8AM meeting.” 

“Got it.” 

Sunghoon steps inside and closes the door behind you when he hears the sound of an email being sent. You blink away the strain in your eyes from looking at a screen for too long and see him sitting on the chair in front of your desk. 

“It’s important we talk about what’s gonna happen for the next month and a half before you go, huh?” 

You sigh. “It is, Sunghoon. My time here has been good to me. I don’t want to leave you with somebody incompetent.”

“I feel touched that you’d extend your time here by two months to look for a new assistant.”

“You should. I’m trying to fill out a job listing before I post it. That’s been stalling me from figuring out what else I need to do. I figure I’ll tackle that and see what projects I can distribute until your new assistant gets the hang of things.” 

“What about the tasks you’re working on now?”

“Handled. I’m waiting for responses.”

“I’m gonna miss how hard you work,” he tells you. “It’ll be weird not seeing you everyday.” 

“You’ll get used to it. First up on the agenda: job requirements. I have a few basics–using software, meeting deadlines, accompanying you on business trips–what else is there that I can add?” 

Sunghoon looks over the list you’ve created. “Owning a passport and the willingness to travel is a must. But I’ll handle business when I need to travel by myself until I can fully trust my assistant.” 

You write it down. “Good idea. I think the first time I traveled with you was to Tokyo six months in. Pretty early to trust me, if I say so myself.” 

“Yeah, well, you proved to be a trustworthy person.”

“How so?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I don’t know. You always seemed like you were keen on putting your head down and doing your job. Somewhere in the mix, I guess you started learning my habits and picked up on things quicker than other assistants I’ve had. I knew I could trust you when you had the briefings prepared when we met with Hybe.”

“Hybe?”

“You know, the independent record label we helped fund and is now considered one of the biggest music corporations in Asia?” 

“I know who they are,” you retort. Sunghoon just smiles. “But I don’t remember that at all.”

“You came into my office the day before the meeting and gave me an entire binder’s worth of prep I never asked you to do. Information on the company, the CEO and founder, artist growth potential, the whole nine yards. I’d never had a thorough assistant at that time. You walked into my office and apologized if you were overstepping before you left me with that behemoth of a binder. It was impeccable and it’s what helped solidify my decision to work with them. And now, Hybe is a major record label with business in America.” 

“Oh…I never knew that.”

“I tried to keep it on the down low so it didn’t get to your head. I was just getting to know you, and didn’t want to take the chance of your ego blowing out of proportion.”

You scowl. “It wouldn’t have.”

“I know that now. But at that time, we were still getting used to the swing of things. That let me know you were loyal to me and had my back. I knew I could trust you with the everyday administrative work, and I knew I could trust you to form a good, solid opinion when it came to this business. It’s why I decided to take you abroad for international business and to handle things back in Korea.” 

Sunghoon’s words make you dizzy. It’s as if a warmth has bloomed in your chest from all of the positive things he’s saying about you. You’ve tried your best to keep yourself humble when it comes to your career for the fear of crossing a boundary you shouldn’t have. You don’t have the power Sunghoon does, nor do you have the capital to back yourself up. The wins, both big and small, are celebrated by yourself before you move onto the next project. 

Everything he’s telling you makes you wonder if you never truly appreciated the things you’ve accomplished just because you were insecure about your role in the company. You’re an extension of Sunghoon, not his equal. Even when you’d assist him in decision making or give your input that ultimately influenced his opinions, it never felt like something worth celebrating. Not unless he’d give you a verbal praise.

The stories he’s telling you about his time working with you makes you look at your job differently. For as competent as you are, you’ve got tunnel vision. Work is work and there’s nothing more to it. You’ve always believed that the essence of your accomplishments lie with Sunghoon, but now you’re starting to wonder about all of the things he’s noticed about you without having vocalized them. The wake of your departure seems to have stirred up emotions within Sunghoon, but you’re having a hard time trying to figure out what they are. 

“I don’t know what to say, Sunghoon. Thanks, I think.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you’re really good at your job. I know it’s stressful trying to find a replacement, but I want to make sure they can reach your level with time. There won’t be anybody who can do what you do.” 

Your face heats up and you go back to brainstorming. 

“I’ve got a general idea for the listing now and I’ll type the copy for your approval by the end of the week. Let’s move on to our clients, shall we?”

When the clock hand tells you it’s six o’clock, Sunghoon asks if you have anywhere to be tonight. When you tell him no, he asks that you stay at the office longer with the promise of ordering takeout to be shared between the two of you. You decide to stay, even if it means you have to work, because you’d never turn down a free meal from him. It’s the only time you allow yourself to splurge on food and Sunghoon prefers to eat at high end restaurants anyway. 

You settle on dim sum. Sunghoon orders just enough for the both of you and it sits across the desk in the main meeting office with Thai tea in to-go cups. He’s loosened his tie and doesn’t bother with appearances now that most of his colleagues have left for the day. You don’t see this carefree side of him often, as he likes to dress to impress. Sunghoon believes impressions are everything in the business of venture capitalism. He doesn't want anybody to get the wrong idea about him because he knows assumptions run far and wild, and he’d rather have people say favorable things about him than not. 

You’ve done a good job at forgetting the dream you had by using work and food as a distraction. But the second Sunghoon loosened his tie and untucked his button down made your mind briefly flash to the dirty things that transpired in your mind. You will yourself to push those thoughts to the back of your head for the umpteenth time. 

“Humor me,” Sunghoon says to break the silence as he looks up from his pile of documents. “You told me you don’t have a personal life and that’s why you want to quit.”

“I didn’t say it like that.” 

“Could’ve fooled me. Weren’t you the one who said you don’t have time for yourself?” 

Curse him. 

“Yeah, I did.” He drops the document on the table and puts the straw of his Thai tea in his mouth, letting it dangle carelessly. 

“You surely have things and people when you’re not at the office. I don’t make you work here like you’re chained to the building.” 

“True,” you tell him as you turn to face him. “That doesn’t mean I have my shit figured out, though.”

“Who does?” 

“People like you don’t have to think about your future.” 

He nods. “Okay, I guess you’re right. I know we don’t come from the same backgrounds, but that doesn’t mean your life isn’t rich without money.” 

“It’s not that I don’t have anything, but lately, it’s felt like nothing sticks around long enough for me to make it part of my life. My hobbies are short-lived. My family lives far away. I don’t have many friends.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What? Not having hobbies.”

“Not having friends.” 

“It’s true.”

“What do you mean by that?”

You push a dumpling in your mouth and speak between bites. “I didn’t have many friends before moving to Seoul. Everyone I knew from university moved after graduating except my roommate during my last year. She’s the only person who I’d consider my friend.”

“What about your neighbor, Nabi? The one who watches your cat when you’re with me?” 

“Is that friendship if I’m asking her for favors?” 

“Kinda. You trust her to watch over Pochi and you told me you’re both getting to know each other a little. I’d count that as friends.” 

“Okay, I have two friends. I don’t have an entire network of people I see. I never had many friends growing up because I was too focused on getting out of my hometown and making it in Seoul. Well, I did that, but it feels like I’m paying the price.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about not being likable.” 

“That’s not the issue, though. I just…I don’t have time to make connections because this job takes up so much of my day. When people invite me out, I have to decline half the time or I come at the tail end of the night because I’m working late. All of that adds up. I’ve only known this job and trying to be the best that I can possibly be that I’ve forgotten how to have fun. I don’t know anything other than this job.”

He looks away from you for a moment before returning back to your gaze. 

“I’m sorry I contributed to that.” 

“It’s not your fault. It comes with the job and I knew what I signed up for. You’ve been a lenient boss compared to other people at this company, and that says a lot.”

“I demand a lot from you, don’t I?” 

“Will I be in trouble if I agree?”

He smirks. “Maybe.” 

“Then my lips are sealed.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I can relate to this job being a lifeline. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long, did you know that? I watched my dad do this work when I grew up and I always had a knack for negotiating. It was my calling and I did everything I could to work my way up from the bottom, even though I knew he’d make me a partner whenever I asked. Sometimes I wonder if I’m too invested in this business. My parents keep asking me when I’ll settle down, and I never have an answer.”

“Will you?”

He looks directly at you. “We’ll see about that. For now, I don’t think about it too much. I like my life and it’s too busy to care about those kinds of things anyhow. If the opportunity doesn’t present itself, I won’t force one to appear.” 

“I’m the same way, I think. I don’t really talk to my parents all that much, but when I do, they’re always asking about when I’ll get a husband. It’s never about my job and my life. It’s always about whether or not their only daughter will grow to be a spinstress.” 

“Surely you’ve been on a few dates since moving to Seoul, no? I would’ve figured you found somebody by now.” 

You ignore his comment for your sanity. “I’ve been on a few, yeah. All of them went nowhere. I’m not the type of person who goes on multiple first dates, though. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen for me naturally.”

“Don’t you use dating apps?”

You laugh humorlessly. “I tried for the first year. Had people swipe right and talked a little, but nothing ever transpired from that. I wondered if I was that awful to talk to or if people who used dating apps were shallow. I deleted them one night and never redownloaded them again.” 

“Dating apps are a scam anyway. Jaeyun uses them from time to time and runs into that same issue. Ever the romantic at heart, even though he won’t admit it.” 

“I want to meet someone naturally and get to know them before I decide anything.” You look at Sunghoon. “Sorry, was that too personal? We’re still at the office.” 

“Nah. Don’t worry about that. I was the one who asked. So you’re the type of person who believes in fate.” 

“Kind of? I don’t know if I’d put it like that, but I’m like you. I don’t want to force things if it’s clearly not going to work out. I’d rather save my time and breath instead of wasting it.” 

“I think that’s admirable.”

“It’s slow and miserable, is what it is.” 

Sunghoon throws his head back and laughs. “Slow and steady wins the race, doesn’t it? 

“It’s taking its sweet ass time.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re the type to date to marry.” 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Just making sure.” 

“I want to like the person I date and not go out with a bunch of guys to see who sticks. That seems unproductive. I want a guy to take me seriously and not look at me like I’m a sack of meat, for once. Someone who will put me first and not leave me unsatisfied.” 

The tips of your ears burn red when you finish your sentence. The implication of your words ring in your ears as you look at Sunghoon, but he looks at you like nothing you said was out of the ordinary. If he’s picked up on what you mean, he doesn’t tell you that he does. 

“Love is a hard thing to find. I don’t know what I’d do if I had it.” 

“Me either. Quitting this job isn’t about finding a boyfriend, per se, but it’s part of it. I want to have enough time to do whatever the hell I want, and that includes dating.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything for a minute. He looks at you like he’s trying to decipher something, and you’re having a hard time keeping still under his watchful gaze. But he turns his attention to the empty takeout cartons and the empty Thai tea cups, putting them back into the plastic bag before tossing them into the trash can. You watch as he compiles the documents back into its holding place before he looks at you. 

“We’ve spent a lot of time talking but we haven’t moved an inch with these projects. Are you up for coming back to my house and working for an hour or two? I can’t think in this damn office anymore and I want a glass of bourbon.” 

“I don’t know. I need to feed Pochi. I also drove to work today.”

“Tell your neighbor to do it. I’ll drive you to the office tomorrow morning.” 

When Sunghoon pulls into the driveway of his ginormous penthouse, you tell yourself the latest you’ll stay is ten o’clock. It’s half past eight and you’re not the least bit tired, which concerns you. Your neighbor has agreed to watch Pochi and knows where you keep your spare key in order to take her back to her apartment. Once she’s sent you a picture of Pochi eating from her bowl, you allow yourself to relax. 

His garage hides behind a served driveway that makes you feel like you’re at the entrance of a luxurious hotel. The garage itself looks like it could store five cars and Sunghoon’s Supra sits right next to the BMW he drives when he goes to work. The Supra is a convertible and what he likes to call his “weekend car.” It’s the vehicle he uses when he’s not working. It’s the one he used to pick you up when the two of you went to dinner. 

The foyer is as grand as you remember it. His interior is minimalistic with elements of nature scattered across the house in the form of decor. Photographs of sea and forests, sculptures, and delicate souvenirs decorate the living area. You’ve never been able to tone down your amazement when you visit. Sunghoon is clean and meticulous. His home reflects that. 

Like the gentleman Sunghoon is, he offers you alcohol when he pours himself a glass of bourbon, but you elect for ice water if you want to make it through the night on these projects. You need to be laser focused because you run the risk of sleeping right on his marble counter and on top of the documents currently sprawled out against the large kitchen island. He provides a salty, crunchy snack because he knows you don’t have a sweet tooth like he does. You cave in eventually and eat a few chips. 

It’s all business talk for the next hour and a half. He jumps from topic to topic in order to make sure everything is accounted for and things that need attention get taken care of. Working with him feels like fighting with a partner in crime. You understand the way his brain works and you’re able to keep up with him when he’s talking at a million miles an hour. This is the kind of attitude he puts up when he’s networking, and you’ve learned over the years that seldom do people get the full, talkative Sunghoon unless he’s trying to get something out of them. With you, it’s a never ending cycle of conversations and opinions. You hear from him more than you don’t and he doesn’t shy away from talking your ear off. 

It does make you feel special sometimes. Sunghoon always indulges you and never puts your ideas and opinion on the backburner. You like that he’s able to carry a conversation and knows when to shut up (for the most part). He gives you the same level of enthusiasm back and respects your space when you come into the office without your mood to socialize. Those days are for getting work done only, and you’ve come to appreciate Sunghoon’s ability to know when you aren’t feeling like yourself. 

It comes with working together for six years, naturally. Seeing each other more frequently than friends and family creates some kind of mutual understanding. You’d like to think it’s a great working relationship so far. Sunghoon starts with the big ideas and you fill in the details. He’s able to pull innovation out of you and you’re able to reel him in and think about logic. It’s like a perfectly oiled machine with no hiccups. It’s been like this since you can remember and you’ll miss it when you leave. 

Eventually, ten o’clock comes and your eyes grow tired of blinking. Sunghoon feels the same, as his tie is far too loose around his neck and his hair is sticking all over the place from him running his hand through it. You’re no better, either. Your hair is down from its updo and your makeup is smudging to the point of no return. 

You’re about to pack up and leave when Sunghoon stops you. 

“Stay the night.” 

“What?” 

“I’m too tired to drive you right now.” Sunghoon yawns. “I’m sorry, I know I said I would. I didn’t think I’d be so tired. You can stay in my guest bedroom.”

“I’ll call a cab or take the bus home.” 

“It’s late and I don’t want you out there by yourself. I’ll be awake and wondering if something happened to you.” 

His words feel oddly sentimental in the dead of night. You shake it off, though. You’re both tired. 

“Pochi needs me, Sunghoon. I can’t expect my neighbor to watch her without saying anything.”

“Text her, then. If she doesn’t want to, I’ll call you an Uber home.” 

you: Hi Nabi, I’m so sorry to text you so late. I’ve been caught up at work and don’t think I’ll be back until tomorrow. Do you think you can watch Pochi overnight and put her back in my apartment before you leave for work tomorrow?

nabi: ah, I see. you’re with your hot boss, aren’t you? If that’s the case, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure pochi gets breakfast and replenish her water 

you: You’re a SAVIOR

nabi: didn’t deny being with ur hot boss. interesting 

you: Goodnight :) 

“Nabi’s gonna watch my cat for the night.” 

Sunghoon smiles tiredly. “Great. Let me show you to the guest bedroom and get you some clothes you can change into. There’s makeup remover and skin care stuff in the bathroom.”

“Do you make it a habit of keeping girls to the point where you keep that stuff in your house?”

He laughs. “No, but my sister comes to visit me often enough that I know to keep it in case she stays later than planned.” 

“That's…sweet.” 

“Just trying to be a good older brother.” 

He leads you to the guest bedroom and you’re far too sleepy to marvel at the sheer size. Sunghoon fetches a shirt and sleep shorts, both of which are a bit bigger on you, and bids you goodnight. It feels weird being in his house and staying the night, but Sunghoon was right. There’s no use calling a cab when you’re like this. You slip under the covers hoping for a restful, dreamless night. 

Except, you wake up three hours later and can’t seem to fall back to sleep. 

It’s like your body knows you aren’t where you’re supposed to be. You don’t recall any kind of dream when you realize you’re awake and staring at the ceiling. Tossing and turning don’t seem to be like great options either because it makes you feel even more restless than before. Surely a glass of water won’t be too much. Sunghoon is probably in his room and you watched where he grabbed his glass from. 

As you make your way towards the kitchen, you see the faint light of a television screen from around the corridor. Sunghoon sits on the couch in front of it. He’s watching a rerun of a drama that premiered earlier this year on low volume. When he hears your footsteps behind him, he turns around and is surprised to see that you’re awake. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

His voice is so raspy. Shit. 

“No. Don’t know why.”

“Me either.” 

He pats the seat next to him and you sit right next to him. Neither of you speaks, too engrossed in the drama to address how different the atmosphere feels. There’s no work, no obligations, and no boundaries that exist here. It’s like his living room is some kind of liminal space that’s putting you through a limbo you’ve never experienced before. Sunghoon’s body heat radiates into you and it feels like you might as well be sitting next to a human furnace. 

Neither of you talk about why you can’t sleep. You’re not sure why you’re having a hard time, especially since the guest bed is far more comfortable than the one you have back in your apartment. But you do notice Sunghoon peeking at you every once in a while. It makes you feel a bit uneasy because you’re not wearing any makeup and your hair is surely a mess from sleeping, but then you start to notice that he’s looking at you when the couple on the television screen kiss. 

It almost feels like you’re in a movie scene when you look back, too. Sunghoon catches your eyes and doesn’t look away this time. He holds your gaze and you gulp when you see his Adam’s apple move. 

Are you dreaming right now? Is this some kind of test the universe is putting you under? 

Time seems to have slowed down and you’re drowning out the noise of the television the more Sunghoon looks at you. At this moment, he isn’t your boss. He’s not somebody who you’ve learned from, nor is he somebody who is miles out of your league. Sunghoon is the handsome boy next door who you’ve had a small crush on for the past six years but have ignored for the sake of keeping the peace. He’s the guy you’d notice in the grocery store and would think about when you two eventually part ways. 

All of your thoughts cut off when you realize he’s leaning in close to you. 

On instinct, you lean in closer, too. The distance between the two of you closes slowly. He inches towards you like he’s attempting to be as cautious as possible, and you’re following his lead. Your body aches for him. That much you know. 

Sunghoon’s lips touch yours eventually and it’s nothing like the hot and steamy dream you had the night prior. Instead, it’s delicate like the touch of a feather. Neither of you dare to touch one another more than you already are with your knee brushing the side of his thigh. His lips feel so good against yours and that’s all you can think about. 

He pulls away after a brief moment and when he doesn’t see any resistance, Sunghoon moves to touch you. Sunghoon cradles your jaw so delicately and it’s a new feeling for you. Nobody has been this gentle while he’s touching you, and your confident demeanor lowers just a little bit. His lips are dangerously soft and warm. The sound of the kisses bouncing off of his walls makes you fall that much deeper. 

When you open your eyes for a peek at Sunghoon, his eyes are completely closed. 

You surge forward and put more pressure into the kiss. He responds well and matches your desire, tilting his head to the other side as if to explore this part of your mouth. It’s so wet and warm. Sunghoon’s hands move from your cheeks to your shoulder until it runs right down your arm. His fingertips dance along your own until he reaches the bottom hem of the shirt you’re wearing. 

Sunghoon’s hesitation turns you on even more. It’s like he’s trying to withhold himself from touching you even further for the fear of making you uncomfortable, and that grace alone makes you want him to touch you even more. Without a word, you push his hand underneath the material of the shirt, and Sunghoon grips your thigh like he’s never felt you before. You can’t remember a single time somebody has turned you on by a mere touch. Something about Sunghoon makes you want to run without looking back. 

There’s no real battle for who gets to be in control. You’re enjoying your time and it feels like Sunghoon is too, especially with the way he caresses your jaw while his lips are on you. You feel so safe in this moment and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Should kissing always feel like you’re ready to lose your inhibitions? Surely, this is a first for you. 

You don’t know who moves first, but you move onto his lap with his hands moving to your waist. He keeps you there like that with his mouth attached to yours and your arms balance on either side of his head while you sit yourself down onto him.

Sunghoon is rock hard underneath you. The two of you feel it. You gasp in shock and Sunghoon opens his eyes to look up at you. 

He’s big. You know he is. That taste of his imprint practically makes you salivate when you feel his dick perfectly slotted against your core for just a second. It excites you to no end, but the way Sunghoon’s looking at you makes you quiver.

“Fuck…” Sunghoon pushes you up and looks away from you to look at his dick straining against his sweatpants. “You weren’t supposed to make me hard.”

“You weren’t supposed to kiss me.”

“But I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” 

Sunghoon leans up to push a short lived peck to your lips. 

“I’m your assistant.

“That you are,” he says with a smile.

“And you’re my boss.” 

“That I am.” 

He smiles anyhow and maneuvers your body until he’s above you. Your back hits the cushions and all of a sudden, you can see just how turned on Sunghoon is. He looks like a mixture of innocent and mischievous, and you decide that’s a dangerous look for you to receive. 

Sunghoon bends down to kiss you again, this time with a little more bravado than the mere peck. Your arms wrap around his muscular shoulders as you pull him closer into your body. He braces himself with one arm beside the couch cushion and in the process, his covered dick pushes right against your core.

The feeling of Sunghoon slowly grinding against you is magnetic. It makes you grind right back into him and use his body as leverage to push yourself up from the couch. You let out a sharp moan when the fabric of your panties creates a delicious kind of friction against your clit. Sunghoon closes his eyes shut and moans too. 

His pace is moderate, but it’s enough for the two of you to become a bit lost. Sunghoon’s imprint makes you wetter when you realize he’s really big. It makes you shudder when you picture what it’ll feel like if Sunghoon puts it inside you. 

The two of you open your eyes at the same time. It’s as if some sort of veil has been uplifted when you see his sweaty forehead and when he sees your shirt ride up your body. The two of you back away from each other like fire and ice.

“W-Wow,” you stutter.

“I’m a good kisser, don’t you think?” 

You swat his bicep. “So arrogant and yet you were rutting into me like a dog in heat.” 

“Can you blame me?” Sunghoon asks, biting his lip. “You look like that while wearing my shirt.”

“Like what?”

“Sex on legs.” 

You choke. 

“Sunghoon.” 

He laughs and looks at the clock. It’s so late. You turn to look too, and the time makes your heart rate pick up. It’s past midnight and you two have to be up in four hours. 

“Shit,” you mumble. 

“Don’t want it to end, love?” 

You look back at him and, for whatever sheepish reason, nod. 

“We’ll have more time tomorrow.” 

Sunghoon bends down to kiss you twice more before pulling himself up and offering you a hand. He pulls you up as well and turns the TV off and leads you to your room before opening the door for you.

“Sunghoon—”

“I’ll make you cum tomorrow,” he promises before kissing you one last time. “For now, get some rest.” 

Your knees buckle when he looks you up and down. Sunghoon’s devilish grin doesn’t falter until you’ve forcibly closed the door on his face. 

***

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[gay-dorito-dust]

How would Dante, Vergil and if possible, Nero react to their SO getting hurt. Like their SO jumps in front of them to take the blow from an enemy, and they just get hurt.

Dante

This is where the fun stops, not that it was ever fun to begin with, but the moment you put yourself in the line of danger for him and ended up -obviously- no better for it.

He stops making jokes and sarcastic quips and stops holding back. He’s a completely different man within a blink of an eye the second your hurt it’s enough to make people question whether he had been goofing his abilities this entire time, all because his change was that drastic that the demon might’ve had been fighting a different man entirely.

His strikes become more aggressive and fast for the demon to keep up with as their being hit by a man who was still holding back in a way, even if it was by a tiny thread, unable to strike back as they were being pushed over the edge towards their end.

Dante couldn’t think clearly of anything but the fact that you were hurt and loosing lots of blood, so he wanted to finish these demons off fast as he can before anything worse could possibly happen, reminded of the night where he and his brother lost everything; lost their mother, their home and their innocence as they wonder whether the demons were waiting the departure of Sparda before moving in to attack since they hated him so much for showing them his back.

He doesn’t give them room to breathe as they didn’t deserve such a luxury that you were loosing at a fast rate, it didn’t feel fair to Dante as he hacked and slashed everything he could see within his peripherals, feeding the demon within it could have his brother looking at him in a different light.

This many will literally keep fighting until there was absolutely zero threats to you safety, it doesn’t matter if his body aches and is tired, he will continue to fight until he is certain there isn’t a demon that’ll lay a harmful hand upon you.

Vergil

He feels like that little boy again. Helpless, weak, staring at the wound upon your body that only seemed to remind him of why he craved power in the first place. To protect and prevent bad things from ever happening to him again…

Yet his newly obtained power didn’t save you, it didn’t protect you even in the slightest, and Vergil feel ice within his veins as everything within him screamed for revenge against the one who brought you harm. His human half was telling him to stay with you, make sure nothing happens to you if he were to look away for a second, but his demon side was telling him to hunt the bastard down and make them pay in every possible way that he could think of.

So Vergil was extremely torn but chose to hover over you protectively instead, never stepping too far away from you and when he did, he would rush back over to you with increasing anger and frustration at the thought of leaving you alone with a horde of demons lurking somewhere in the shadows; awfully aware that you were injured.

Vergil wouldn’t allow that but he couldn’t help but ask himself why you would do such a thing when you were aware that he could protect himself, heal himself and get back to fighting, where as you couldn’t and yet despite this you were willing to protect himself from what you perceived as a threat regardless.

He wouldn’t walk this life without you in it after all you’ve done for him, he wouldn’t allow for his light to be taken away from him in such a manner, he refused to loose the one thing that brought him to be at peace with his human self and made him realise many things. To harm you was a cowardly thing to do, no matter if you didn’t step in the way of the attack meant for him, his brain had hardwired to believed the attack was meant to lure you into protecting him, and thus accomplished what the demon had set out to do.

To harm you was a mistake and Vergil was about to become the demons biggest problem, and he was going to make sure they never forgot the face of the man who had cut them done to size for hurting his beloved. His ‘Eva’ if you will.

He vowed to never let anything bad happen again, and he was more than willing to make do on that promise to prevent your situation from worsening, for he withheld a fear of the person he’d become without you.

Nero

He’s livid, enraged, frustrated.

Takes after his father in having his human and demon side torn in what he should do; stay with you until help came? Or go after those who did this and make their end a misery.

Instead he makes sure you’re in a safer spot, talking to you constantly as he keeps you conscious, telling you stories that he’s never told anyone before while fighting back this crippling fear of losing someone close to him; someone who meant everything to him and kept him above water upon multiple occasions.

His father and uncle can handle the threat, Nero would stay by your side and make things as comfortable as he could, for he knew that if he returned to the battle he would be worried to death about whether it was okay to leave you on your own.

A distraction he couldn’t afford to have or whatever his father would say during this, but Nero didn’t care about that at all, he cared about you more then some mission becuase if he lost you then he would feel lost within himself for the rest of his life; reminding himself of the most important life he could’ve saved but didn’t becuase the mission came first.

He didn’t care if it was selfish, he honestly could care less as he will always prioritise his and his alone to protect, and now that you were hurt he was becoming even more selfish by having stayed near you to monitor your health as closely as possible. His fingers linger on your pulse point longer than necessary as he chants ‘you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay’ to himself whenever he feared that you might’ve gotten worse after five seconds, calming his racing brain that his best was indeed enough to keep you here with him.

Even after help comes for you, Nero is stuck to your side like gorilla glue, unable to let even a sliver of distance build between you two, fearing that if you were to separate from one another then you’d get worse all of sudden. His gripping your hand tightly as he prays for what felt like the first time in his life to allow him to keep you in his life just that little while longer, he needed you in his life for all the moments you’ll shared together in life, this wasn’t the end of it; he refused it to be.

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 17!

we're another week closer to buddie canon, i feel it in my bones <3

please take a look at both the fic ratings and the tags before reading! some of these contain spoilers for season 8. if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that you ever wanted from me | stevesconverse | 7.8k | T

the one where Eddie takes care of Buck when he's being plagued by a bad migraine. i'm such a sucker for fics like this <3 seeing these two take care of each other is just so, so good, and this is the loveliest example of that!!

flash mobs and jumbotron proposals | glorious_spoon/@glorious-spoon | 10.2k | E

Buck asks a question. Eddie dithers. this has such wonderful eddie characterisation!! i loved his thought process and also the conversation with bobby <3

it only hurts this much right now | daffodilsonaprettystring/@daffodilsonaprettystring | 7.1k | GA

Buck wakes up with a headache, but goes into work anyways despite the pain. Eddie is not pleased with this. But it's fine, Buck has done this before, he can do it again... right? such a wonderful fic!! i love the conversation buck has with eddie here <3

king of the castle | organyx | 12.5k | E

Buck and Eddie challenge each other to see who can go the longest without an orgasm. Eddie’s pretty confident he can win. this is hot and silly and freaky and has the absolute best buddie banter. so good!!

saddle up and ride | lecornergirl/@clusterbuck | 2.7k | E

He looks up at Buck, positioned above him like this, and he knows exactly what he wants. “Ride me,” he says, and only realises how authoritative it came out when Buck’s eyes widen. “I mean—if you—” JOINT. ACCOUNT. you will get this when you read it. just. JOINT. ACCOUNT. incredible fic <3

stress relief | greenbergsays/@greenbergsays | 5.6k | E

Set in the aftermath of the sniper shooting. Eddie is feeling frustrated and Buck offers a helping hand. hot and soft and just so very beautiful <3 what a vision of a fic!!

sweetness follows | pairofraggedclaws/@pairofraggedclaws | 4.3k | T

Buck and Eddie figure it out, through the eyes of Chimney, Hen, and Bobby. i love a good multipe pov fic and also i love the firefam and also i love buddie so basically this fic is perfect for me <3

want to feel you when i'm falling in love | smilingbuckley/@smilingbuckley | 1k | GA

Buck keeps getting cold at night and struggles falling asleep. Eddie cuddles him about it. listen i am a simple person, okay? i see the tag cuddling and snuggling, i see that the fic is written by an author whose work i love, i click the link and devour the fic like it's the first glass of water i've had in days. this is so very lovely <3

what a view | maybeamystery/@frysquint | 3.1k | GA

They’re coming back from a late call for a shift that was supposed to end at two-thirty but didn’t, and Buck has been keeping a close eye on the time. He’s a busy guy with things to do and places to be. One minute he’s glancing at his phone for the two hundredth time in the last thirty minutes, and the next, the whole world goes blurry and out of focus. this was a reread! i love the dialogue here, it feels so true to character!

what makes you smile | EiraLloyd/@unlifeira | 5.6k | T

Three times Buck draws something that makes Eddie smile, and one time Eddie draws something that makes Buck smile. well, guess what? this entire fic made ME smile <3 it's just so fun and so lovely and so buddie and i love the drawings!!

where we belong | carpediaz/@sofa-king-lame | 34.8k | E

The one where Eddie outsources his hair washing post shooting, meets Buck, and learns to accept the good things in life. okay but where do i make an appointment with hairdresser buck. please let me make an appointment with hairdresser buck!! i love the writing here, the descriptions are lovely and the dialogue is brilliant and the domesticity of it all is just <3

you make the world taste better | farfromthstars/@doeeyeseddie | 11.8k | T

Newly arrived to LA, Eddie decides to take his son to parent/child cooking classes. The instructor is so much more than he expected. this was a reread of one of my favourites <3 i love chris here and his relationship with both buck and eddie, and the firefam presence is so lovely!! just such a gem!

you touched down in the base of my fears | fruitsdoesnotknow/@fruitsdontknow | 10.2k | T

the 118 attempt an escape room. Buck and Eddie attempt to be normal for sixty minutes. if you need some cheering up this week, i cannot recommend this fic enough <3 i love hen and ravi and bobby and the buddie of it all and it's just so, so good!!

[iamthatonefangirl]

okay imma need a nsfw alphabet for bucky!! maybe tfatws? let me be, we all know im all for that man

you know I gotchu bae. fatws bucky nsfw alphabet incoming...

aftercare: this man is obviously a god at aftercare, no questions asked. he’s kissing every inch of your face, making sure you’re okay and happy and satisfied. even if he’s exhausted he’s always offering to give you one more, two more, as many more as you want, really… he'll make you drink way too much water and then he’s practically pushing you out of the bed to make you pee even when you want nothing more than to sleep. 

body part: he loves every inch of you. doesn’t matter what you think. he loves you. he loves any part of you he can hold onto, dig his fingers into and keep you close to him, whether it’s your chest, your thighs, your hips. the most vulnerable parts of you are the most real, and those are his favorite. he just wants to feel you. 

when he first took his shirt off in front of you, he was concerned. he knows you’re a good person with a caring heart and would never judge him for his scars on his shoulder, but he was still scared. if you flinched away, or cringed, or anything, when you saw him… his heart would shatter. he’d never love again. he wouldn’t see the point in living. 

but you smiled, and looked at him with nothing but adoration and lust. you gently brought your hands to his chest, and his heart fucking melted. he watched your face, taking in your facial expressions as you stepped closer and took in the sight of him. he watched and waited to see what you might do or say. waited for you to scowl and tell him he was ugly. 

but you just… pressed your lips to the scars on his shoulder, and he felt like he could cry. you've only ever made him feel whole.

cum: he’s making a huge mess all over your sheets, skin, everywhere. he loves filling you up and then fucking it back into you. “don’t waste it, baby,” he’s teasing you, overstimulating you with his fingers and plugging you up. 

dirty secret: he kind of wants to learn for himself how it feels when he ties you up. 

experience: you’re his first since after hydra. it scared him, at first, how much he liked you when he met you. he wanted to open up to you, give you everything right off the bat, fuck you senseless right off the bat, but he couldn’t. it took him time, of course, and you were happy to take it slow. but god, the first time you had sex was like heaven. he was a young man once upon a time. an extremely attractive young man, and so it’s fair to say that he knows wtf he’s doing now that he’s comfortable with you. 

favorite position: call him boring, but he loves missionary. he wants to be able to see your eyes, your reactions, and kiss your face while he’s making you feel good. he loves having you lay on the bed, relaxing, while he takes you apart, giving you the princess treatment you deserve.

but when you ride him, fuck, it takes his breath away with how pretty you look. he always finishes way too fast and ends up apologizing over and over again, but you don’t care. he’ll get hard again soon enough. until then he can sit there and deal with the overstimulation <3

goofy: this man loves to have fun with you, especially in bed. most of the time when you’re in the heat of the moment, you’re both pretty serious, but that doesn’t mean there’s no room for fun. one time you were in the middle of getting your shit rocked from behind, making the whole bed shake like crazy, and the lamp on the table ended up getting knocked over, startling both of you. you both couldn’t help but laugh until you cried, at which point he turned you onto your back and kissed you, both of you making jokes about it while you fucked you until you finished, still giggling. 

hair: nothing special. he keeps it clean and tidy. he doesn't let his hair get long anymore, too many bad memories. but he gets the sense you find it attractive so maybe... 

intimacy: this man craves connection with you. he’s always reminding you how much he loves you and needs you in his life, kissing your eyes and nose and cheeks every time he says it. he holds you close and can’t help but remind you of how pretty you are, how well you take care of him, praising and worshipping you as he makes the sweetest love to you. 

jack-off: trying to get back to normal after hydra was… a struggle. it’s fair to say he didn’t get himself off very much before he met you. you have sex fairly regularly, but being with you helped him feel more comfortable and capable of doing it himself. fairly early in your relationship you asked him if you could just watch, and he was hesitant. so you gave him your own little show, which totally spurred him on to do the same for you. ever since then, and the way you looked at him with such lust in your eyes as he touched himself, he’s been so much more confident and willing. you’re just happy he’s getting back to finding himself and being comfortable again in his body. 

kink: he loves to gag you. he just can’t help himself. he totally gets off on putting you in a spider gag and tying your hands above your head while he can sit there and mess with your head, praising and degrading you at the same time for being his good little fuck doll? yeah, that’ll do it for him. 

he’s a sucker for fucking you in front of a mirror. he’ll push you up against the bathroom counter, wrap a hand around your throat, and kick your feet apart, watching your reactions in the mirror. he loves how you devolve into a mess in front of his eyes while he holds himself together, watching the way he’s railing you into oblivion. he holds your head in place so you’re forced to watch him smirk while you’re drooling everywhere.

he loves having control over you and waving it around in your face to taunt you. it’s fun to put you in your place, spank you into submission. total size kink, too.

location: he loves doing it in the bedroom, call him old-fashioned. taking you apart in his bed, making you comfortable, giving it to you the way you deserve. only the best for you. 

but he’s only a man. anywhere you want it, he’ll give it to you. you’ve definitely fucked in his car. on his motorcycle. in an alley outside the dancing club you went to that one time. he’s no exhibitionist, but…

motivation: when you tease him. you love making dirty jokes to him to get him riled up, and it always works. if you’re trying to walk past him in a tight space, you’ll grab his ass or his bulge or grind up against him and then pretend like nothing happened. you’ll buy boxes of popsicles at the store for the sole purpose of licking it like you do his cock. one of these days he’s gonna take the damn popsicle out of your mouth and fuck you with it.

no: no knives, no guns. even if it doesn’t scare you, it scares him too much to think about exposing you to that kind of violence given his history. 

oral: he’s a real man. loves to go down on you when you’re aching and sensitive for him after he’s wrecked you. you’re hissing, telling him to be careful, and he’s rubbing your thighs to soothe you. he loves when you’re vulnerable like this, super tired, walking the line between pain and pleasure, and yet you still let him lick you to his heart’s content. 

he loves your mouth on his cock. it’s a sight to see. getting you on your knees for him, seeing you so willing, parting your lips and drooling on him. he loves it. he moans like crazy and loves talking to you while you’re pleasuring him, saying, “that’s my girl. letting me use her mouth like this. gonna let me fuck it like the rest of your holes, hmm?”

pace: he loves going slow and fucking you deep, but when he wants to? oh he’ll fuck the everliving daylights out of you. he’ll make you beg him to go faster, give it to you rough, and once you’ve said “please” enough times, sounding all pretty and desperate for him, he’ll give you what you want, making you come over and over while he just keeps fucking you. it’s heavenly. 

quickie: he doesn’t really seek you out much for it, he’s happy to take care of himself or wait until the timing is right. but he loves when you ask for it. one minute he’s busy with something, the next you’re on him, telling him, “I need you to fuck me right fucking now” and he’s gonna do it. he’s gonna make sure you’re happy and well fucked any time you need it. this is when he’ll get a little rougher with you, a little more possessive and controlling, giving you that all-encompassing feeling of pleasure, body and mind. 

risk: he’s hesitant, as are you. he’s not big on taking risks, but the few times you have fucked in public have been exhilarating. he’d be open to doing it again, maybe just once. he’s got an image he’s trying to rebuild. 

stamina: he’s got stamina for days. he’s literally super human. of course, he’s still 100 years old, and the years are starting to catch up to him. but he can still fuck, don’t doubt that. 

toys: anything to get you off, he’ll try. it’s pretty often that he’ll use a vibrator on your clit while he fucks you, all the pleasure going to your head and making your thoughts blur together. he wants to make you forget about everything but how he makes you feel.

every once in a while he’ll fuck your mouth and make you fuck yourself with a dildo just to see how needy and whiney you can get for him. but honestly he’s the one that gets needy because it’s not long before he’s like “fuck this” and he picks you up, chucks the dildo across the room, and then drags you to bed to fuck you himself. also he wants to get you a butt plug to make you wear it in public, bonus points if it vibrates and he can control it from his phone. 

unfair: he does not have it in him. he will tease and edge you maybe once, but he has to watch you come for him, he has to, it's his crack. knowing that he’s making you feel good is more important than anything else. he lowkey wants to ask you to tease him for hours just to see what happens.

volume: bro is a moaning mess for you okay. he tried to hold back the first few times you had sex, but then you got concerned that you weren’t doing enough. when you managed to pull a real moan from him, you fucking celebrated and hollered and he blushed like crazy. so then he finally quit holding back, knowing you wanted to hear him, and he’s like a whiney baby when he fucks you now. 

wild card: he bought a ring. 

x-ray: he’s clearly doing pretty well for himself. he’s got the prettiest dick on the planet, pink and leaky and too big for you to wrap your whole hand around. you try anyways, looking up at him with big puppy eyes as you stroke him up and down, teasing him with little kitten licks to the tip. he stretches you out just right, every time. “such a good girl, opening up so well for me, you know that? just wanna take all of me, but you’re just so little… guess I’ll just have to make you take it, huh?” he says as he stretches you on his fingers.

yearning: he’s a loverboy at heart 🤍 he loves you and always wants to have you close and always wants to touch you. if he’s asleep and you need him to fuck you, he wants you to wake him up, he doesn’t care. 

zzz: he conks the fuck out so quickly. once he knows you’re okay, and you’re hydrated, and you’ve peed, he’s dragging you by the waist to pull you against his chest and he’s out. 

~~~

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[riyangiis]

professor anaxagoras definitely snores.

the bad thing is, you're the victim of it.

dear hyacine might've accidentally revealed that scholars experience hair loss, there's no doubt that snoring is also in the picture too, right?

sharing surnames and living together has made you happy indeed, but when you were first met with his snores and when it was directly at your ear, you barely slept that night.

as expected as it may be, it pains you to get used to nights of loud snores that keep you awake at night. you only let it slide knowing that the cause is your overworking husband hugging a dromas doll in his sleep.

you can't recall how many nights you stayed up because you couldn't stand anaxa's snoring, even though you were the one to convince him to rest for working and drowning himself in knowledge so much.

you only think about all of those sleepless nights now, in the hallway that leads to anaxa's classroom.

because said hallway is filled with the students' jokes of their professor's hair loss problem, which would then turn into theories of more problems, a lot of them including snoring. you try your best to avoid the students in order to avoid a full-on interrogation.

ever since hyacine's exposing, whenever his students spot the two of you, they would not stop bothering you!

"how did you find out professor anaxagoras had hair loss?" the curious student asked hyacine, but she stays silent knowing the wrath of said professor.. (he does in fact carry a gun with him for discipline.)

"im curious, (name). what other problems does he have? does he snore?" the kind student asked you, but you too as well stay silent for you do not want your husband to find the students laughing about it, soon to be complaining and trying to find the messenger. (once again, he has a gun.)

"do you want to find out for yourselves?" you reply,

and that was a very, very bad answer. the clueless you would not think that they would take it seriously.

you walk in anaxa's office to see him working on equations or theories again, with some drafts set aside on his table making a mess. you sigh at the sight of him focused and not noticing your presence inside the room.

you walk over to him and tap his shoulder, "anaxa, you should rest now." he turns to you and opens his mouth to make an excuse, although he was met with your worried and sweet expression that he couldn't bear to say no to you.

neither of you noticed the subtle noises outside while walking to your shared room, the cause of them being the same curious students seeking to find an answer, maybe learning that behavior from their teacher.

when the both of you were preparing to rest, the students leaned closely to the wall, listening carefully to hear any signs of snoring but are still met with nothing. just as when they were about to give up─

very loud snore, from anaxagoras.

victory was theirs, for their questions have been answered.

they tried to hold their laughs at the sound of their strict teacher snoring so loudly, then left the place immediately to spread the message to their classmates.

being the sleepless spouse you are, of course you noticed, and you were terrified to see the anger to be formed inside him for being caught and made fun of for doing what is totally normal. yeah, snoring unbelievably loud that you can't sleep is so normal.

you were prepared to hear the whispers and the laughs inside the hallway, not the terror of your husband finding out that the students did such thing.

walking again inside the hallway to find something, you have created the scenario in your head already.

"hehe, did you know that prof nax snores?"

"he's always doing science stuff, i expected it!"

"no but, he snores very loudly!" giggles can be heard between the two girls.

just how you visioned it.

you freeze at the sight of anaxa walking in the other hallway to the classroom, students holding their laughs, you hide behind a wall to see what would happen.

anaxa gets close to a group joking about the same thing, close enough to hear that is. you watch as he stops in his tracks, head turning to the group,

"what is this talk about me.. snoring?" and there it goes.

heads turn away from him, clearly guilty of doing the same. anaxagoras scans the hallway and notices that most students know about it already, while the others are just finding out as the message is constantly being thrown around.

the group turned speechless and stared at the teacher nervously, "and may i ask how did you come up with such thing?"

one of the students, a brave one, answers. "w-we heard it from a lot of people.." anaxagoras stares into his eyes to see any hint of dishonesty, only to be met with fear.

"hmm, i'll have you know that it is nothing but a rumor. students like you should not believe in absurdity so easily." anaxagoras turns away from the group and goes on his way again.

the crowd stays silent. with proof or not, nobody dares to utter a word about it again. because this is about anaxagoras, and he has made it very clear that he has a gun with him countless times.

you chuckled when he dismissed it as nothing but a rumor, because you know well that you are going to hear those noises again. now you are listening to anaxa's complaints about how they found out.

"my students are too curious for their own good, how dare they share such thing that almost everyone jokes about it?" you laugh at the sight of anaxa stressed.

"really anaxa? a rumor? lying is one way to stop the truth from spreading." anaxa glares at you, "tell me.. were you the one to start it?"

"i only told them to find out for theirselves, and look what they did!" your smile grew wider, remembering the group that snuck out to answer their question.

anaxa sighs and holds your hand, "nevermind, it is not in me to care about useless things. let's go to bed."

in all honesty, you should be the one complaining. you had to deal with everything and you were maybe a little happy that you weren't going to be alone with the knowledge of your husband's snoring. now, he denied everything and said it was nothing but a rumor, leaving the students in fear of anaxagoras' anger.

the both of you lay on your shared bed, anaxa immediately falls to sleep, with you hearing the familiar sound of his snoring and seeing the dromas doll trapped in his arms.

professor anaxagoras does snore.

the bad thing is, it's now just a false rumor, and you're left alone having to deal with it again.

[delilahsturniolo]

⟡ ݁₊ welcome to the end of the world! (please leave your sanity at the door.)

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 . . . four friends: nick, matt, chris, and you—find themselves stuck together at the end of the world, trying to survive a zombie apocalypse with nothing but their wits, a questionable supply of snacks, and zero emotional maturity. you’re just trying to stay alive without losing your mind—or falling for someone on the team.

𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 . . . mentions of blood, descriptions of a wound, romantic tension, slow burn.

CHAPTER TEN: NEW BLOOD, OLD WOUNDS

read more parts here!

you limp down the cracked sidewalk, leg aching, heart worse. the sky’s bleeding pink into a gray, tired dusk, and the group is quieter than ever. it’s like everyone’s waiting for someone else to break first. lana’s trailing behind chris and nick, arms crossed tight over her chest, eyes flicking to every shadow. she hasn’t said much since the diner, just quiet thanks and awkward silences. she doesn’t trust any of you yet, and, honestly? you don’t really trust her either.

you glance at matt. he’s walking ahead, again. not too far, but enough that it feels like a statement, a message. his jaw’s clenched. his knuckles white around his weapon. like if he just focuses hard enough, he can pretend he didn’t say something that shattered the air between you two like broken glass. and you wish you could stop replaying it…

“we kissed once. it doesn’t have to mean anything.”

it meant everything. even if he’s too afraid to admit it.

nick finally breaks the silence, walking backward like a tour guide in a war zone. “okay. i vote we find shelter and maybe have a full group therapy session, but like, in a chill, emotionally repressed way.”

“we’re not stopping yet,” matt says without looking back.“dude,” nick deadpans, “you’re limping. she’s bleeding. chris has been muttering to the cat for twenty minutes.”

“he has a name,” chris snaps, holding whiskers tighter. “and he’s helping me emotionally process our near-death experience.” lana finally speaks. “there’s a place up ahead. small house. boarded up, but i saw it on the way in. it looked empty.” matt hesitates. eyes narrow. “you’re just now mentioning that?” she shrugs. “you didn’t ask.”

nick raises a brow. “oh, cool. i love when strangers maybe lead us into traps. very fun for me personally.” but no one has a better option, so you go. the house is small. half-swallowed by vines, windows thick with grime. the door creaks open with a sound like a dying animal. but it’s quiet. still. no fresh blood, no smell of rot. for once… it feels safe.

nick checks the back, chris sets up a sleeping spot for whiskers, and lana sits in the farthest corner, hugging her knees like she wants to disappear into them. you collapse against a wall, pressing a cloth to your leg. it stings, bad. you’re trying to hide how much it hurts, but matt notices. of course he does. he crosses the room, dropping his pack next to you without saying a word. pulls out gauze. alcohol. tape. you blink at him. “i can do it myself.”

“you shouldn’t have to,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. and before you can argue, he’s kneeling in front of you, carefully peeling back the cloth, your breath catches. because even now, even when you’re angry and hurting and full of everything you never said.

his hands are gentle.

he doesn’t look up, just focuses on the wound. “i didn’t mean to say what i said like that.” you don’t respond. he dabs the alcohol and you flinch. he curses under his breath. “sorry.”

“why’d you say it then?” you ask, voice quiet. he pauses. tape in hand. “because,” he finally says, “you make me forget that we’re not safe. that this could all be gone in a second. and i—i can’t lose you.” you swallow. “so your solution is to push me away?” he looks up at you now. eyes dark and tired and pleading. “i’m not good at this,” he says. “but i’m trying. i want you. even if it’s stupid. even if it’s risky. i just… don’t know how to be in love and be in survival mode at the same time.”

your heart stops. “in love?”

his eyes widen just slightly. like he didn’t mean to say it. like the words slipped out before he could stop them. but he doesn’t take them back. you don’t say anything, just stare at him like the floor’s disappeared under you. he finishes taping your leg, slower now. hands lingering. breath shallow.

then, suddenly—

a crash from outside.

everyone jumps. nick swears. chris grabs a pan. lana stands, wide-eyed. you freeze. matt stands, already moving toward the window. “stay here.”

“like hell i am,” you say, following him. and when you peer through the cracked slats, your blood runs cold. figures. three of them. not undead. alive. armed. heading straight for the house.

not zombies. people.

matt turns to you, low and panicked. “we’ve got company. and not the good kind.”

“you think they saw us?” as if on cue, a voice beamed from outside.

“we know you’re in there. come out with your weapons down. you’ve got ten seconds.” everyone’s frozen. you look at matt, matt looks at you back. and all of that tension, all the fear, the love, the mess of feelings…is right there between you again. he steps closer, matt grabs your hand and holds it. “if we make it out of this,” he says, “we’re not ignoring this anymore. okay?” you squeeze his hand. “okay.” the door rattles. you all lift your weapons. outside, the countdown begins.

“ten… nine… eight…”

© delilahsturniolo

[girlfromflor]

went through hell yesterday and now I'm thinking about kyle garrick who takes care of you so tenderly when you're feeling sick – at first, at least. | gn!reader, kyle is like a daddydom(?) but there's no use of daddy in this one

he doesn't even question why that night, he just asks "what are you feeling, my love?" concern taking over every feature of his beautiful face.

to which you answer "headache... feel like throwing up," with a big pout and shaky hands from nausea.

he makes something salty and light for you to try and eat at least something, but as you shake your head and say with trembling voice that you "really can't, kyle", he nods and helps you walk all the way to your bedroom where he sets you down on the bed and gives you a pill to help and soothe the headache.

he watches as you drink it grimacing and he can only say "i know, baby, but you can sleep now. and you'll wake up feeling better tomorrow, eh?"

he let's you hide your trembling, cold hands underneath his shirt. you forehead tucked in chest as he hugs you until you're asleep. and when you wake up, he's still there – by your side, holding you like you're the most precious thing he ever came across.

when he wakes up, the very first thing he does is make sure you're feeling 100% better. once that's out of the way, he asks "now, tell me what happened yesterday, love."

you, as guilty as you could feel, answer him with a mumble. "forgot to eat dinner yesterday..."

you can feel the way the soothing brushes of his fingers in your skin halt for a second, before he's questioning "did you, baby? what was it that you were doing that made you forget to eat?"

he knows you get caught up in your own head sometimes, that you get so entranced in your hobbies that you forget to do the most basic things for your own comfort. you tell him that you were just distracted with a new tool you got that would help you finish your project of the moment, to which he answers with a sigh.

"baby, i know you were having fun and distracted, but what is the rule for when you have a new project you're working on?"

he waits as you take your time to answer. he's always so patient with you, it makes tears well up in your eyes. "i have to set up an alarm and always prioritize things related to my health and comfort..." you answer firmly, you had to repeat that a lot of times for you to not know it by now.

"hm, that's right. so, if you remember that, how come you forgot about it yesterday?" he's not mad, you can tell, but he's worried. worried something else got to you and that you actively neglected it other than just forgetting.

"'s just that i didn't have my phone close, so i couldn't have heard the alarm go off. 'm sorry, it wasn't on purpose..." you rush to answer, voice slowly being enveloped in anxiety, but he just sushes you with a kiss to your cheek.

"c'mon now, baby. you know it's okay. this isn't for me, is for you," he says and pull you closer in his embrace. "go on, say it, baby. you don't have to be sorry."

"it's okay... it's okay, and this is about me, not you," you take a deep breath and that works for calming you down. kyle always knows how to keep you grounded.

"yeah, that's right, love." he plants another kiss in your cheek, and then one to your nose. "but you cannot neglect your meals like that, can you?"

"no, i can't..." the response comes automatically, you feel so safe with him knowing he's taking care of you that you don't mind whatever punishment he'll give you for not following the rules.

he hums in agreement, deep tone of his voice rumbling in his chest. he's already moving out of your arms and finding his place between your thighs, holding them spread to his liking.

"'m gonna use my mouth on you, and you'll feel really good, baby," he points out, matter-of-factly. "but just when you're about to cum, i'll stop," he adds, and you can feel yourself squirming already. kyle is too good with his mouth, and he knows that.

"and you'll take it. my good, precious baby can do it, yeah?"

fuck, this is going to be a long morning.

[sandwitchstories]

The Festival Of Dolls

Welcome back to another adventure in Mouse's Mini-verse! This time the family goes on an outing to the Hinamatsuri Festival !

If you prefer to read it on AO3 click here !

WC: 2600+

Summary: It is the day of the Hinamatsuri Festival, also known as Girls Day. Mouse is excited for food, Sukuna is craving sake, Monkey is watching everything and you're just trying to go with the flow. AKA a fun family day at a spring festival.

AN: To anyone new to my Daddy Duty series- Mouse is Sukuna's two year old daughter. Welcome to Mouse's Mini-verse!

CW: Reader called Mama but not described, family fluff, toddler in the wild, suggestive ending with 'grown up time' a bit more than implied

A/N: We are going to pretend that I did not write about traditions that were started hundreds of years post Heian era… Suspension of disbelief activate!

Heart divider by @strangergraphics All other graphics by me

“Where are we going, Papa?” Mouse asked as she walked holding her father’s pinky. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them from behind. Your husband, 7’3”, shoulders almost as broad, 4 arms, mountain of a man walking with a pink hair little pixie dressed in an equally pink kimono and pink kutsu shoes, holding his little finger with her whole fist, skipping beside him. 

She looked up at the man they called a monster like he hung to sun and moon. Like her Papa made the very stars themselves. Such a Papa’s Girl.

“We are going to a Hinamatsuri festival,” he answered.

“But what it for?” Mouse asked, curious as ever. 

“It’s a festival to celebrate girls. This is the festival that will have kyoto-bina like the ones you got when you were born,” you further explained.

“You will not touch these ones either, Mouse,” Sukuna looked down at her with one of the eyes on the side of his face.

“I promise, Papa!” she gave a cheesy grin up at him. She looked behind and gave you the same grin. “Make sure Monkey knows not to touch it too, okay Mama?”

“Monkey, no touching anything,” you said, glancing down at the baby in a wrap on your chest. 

He gave you a drooly grin. You smiled as you wiped his chubby little face. He definitely had his father’s features, including having 4 eyes (minus the bone deformation), but he had your hair and eye color. 

You knew it was traditional to wear the baby on your back, but you felt better with him on your front. You were already used to people staring and gawking, so what was one more thing for them to look at if it was what made you feel comfortable? Besides, if he was on your back, you would miss out on the cute little faces he made as he discovered the world around him. 

“Papa, what we do at the Hina-mad-sushi party?” Mouse paused to pick up a rock.

“It’s Hinamatsuri Festival. No more rocks, Mouse. That’s your 10th today,” Sukuna said with exasperation.

“But Papa, look!” she excitedly pointed out another rock and started to try to drag him towards it.

Sukuna let go of her hand and caught the back of her kimono as she instantly tried to flee, lifting her up into his arms. “We will see Momo in their first bloom and I will enjoy sake.” 

“Why I no get sake?” Mouse asked, cocking her head slightly to the side.

“Because little girls cannot have alcohol.”

“But it girls day?” she replied, pressing her lips together as she looked into her father’s face.

“You’ll get plenty of sweets and treats,” you chimed in, distracting her from talk of sake. 

Mouse squealed happily and hugged Sukuna’s neck before sitting back on his arm to grab his face in her hands. “Papa!”

“What now, Mouse?” You could tell he was dreading whatever the next question would be, but he held her gaze.

“What we gonna eat first?” 

Sukuna grinned from ear to ear. “I think we shall start with hichigir i and then hishimoch i.”

“I want Sakura mochi!” Mouse cheered, throwing her hands in the air excitedly. 

“We need to find some hina arare for Monkey too,” you reminded them.

Sukuna slowed slightly and shifted Mouse to his upper arm. He reached out the hand on his lower arm to tangle his fingers with yours. He glanced down at you with a soft gaze. “And ichigo daifuku for my precious one.”

The whole town was stunning in appearance as it came alive for the festival. Buildings were decorated in vibrant colors and there were delicious foods as far as the eyes could see. Mouse and Sukuna wasted not even a second before diving into the food options and eating their fill. You happily ate your ichigo daifuku and tried bites of everything they excitedly described to you and offered while Monkey slept against your chest.

After enjoying the food selections, Sukuna stated he needed to acquire something while you were in town. Knowing Mouse as you do, you knew that standing in place for any amount of time was akin to torture for your daughter. Not wanting to deal with a melt down in public, you looked around and found your destination.

Before you began walking, you adjusted the now awake and aware Monkey so that he was upright and could look around. Mouse and you both giggled at how all 4 of his eyes became as large as kozara as he took in the colors and people. It was sometimes startling just how intelligent his gaze was. He turned back and looked at you, cocking his head to the side for a moment and then giving you a giant drooly smile, placing an equally drool covered hand on your cheek.

“Thanks, Monkey,” you  shook your head with a laugh, using a hankie you had tucked away to wipe your face.

“Him licked you with his hand!” Mouse giggled.

“That is definitely an interesting interpretation of what just happened.” Mouse came up with the most random things, never failing to make you smile.

“Can I do that to Papa?” she asked, taking your hand as you began to move. 

“I would not recommend it.”

“What about Urau-rau?”

“Not if you want to live to see another day,” you snorted softly in amusement. Not even Sukuna would be able to stop Uraume in that situation. “Let’s go with not doing it to anyone.”

“Boooooring,” Mouse huffed and pretended to deflate. You really appreciated her father teaching her that word. Not.

You walked over to where the hinadan was set up, filled to the brim with beautiful, handcrafted Hina dolls. You and Mouse spent a good amount of time pointing out to each other different sets of dolls that caught your eyes while Monkey babbled and played with your hair.

Sukuna returned to your side, smirking when he saw Monkey was up. Monkey laughed happily when he saw his Papa and then hid his face in your chest like he was shy. Mouse, as per usual went running to Sukuna as fast as she could, laughing freely with her head thrown back as Sukuna caught her and put her on his shoulder.

“Papa made me big like him!” Mouse said, hugging Sukuna’s head. “Papa! Take us to the pretty flowers now, please and thank you!”

“Why should I?” he asked, turning his head slightly and the two eyes on deformed side of his face shifting up to look at her.

“Because it’s Girls Day. That means you have to listen to me,” she stated, ignoring his glare and pointing towards the bright flowers. “That way, Papa! Please and thank you!”

“Watch it, brat. I haven’t eaten in a long time,” he warned. 

Your shoulders shook as you suppressed laughter as Sukuna headed in the direction Mouse had pointed. You followed behind listening to them go back and forth with a smile on your face. It only took about 10 feet for Sukuna to realize you were not trying to catch up. With an annoyed huff and an almost offended look on his face, he reached out his hand for yours and interlocked your fingers before he started walking again. 

You were well aware that Sukuna would rather have his nose hairs ripped out individually than admit that holding your hand was as much for himself as it was for you. You did not protest his hold at all. You loved the simple act of holding his hand and it would be unfitting to have the King of Curses walking around pouting. 

Your heart fluttered once again at the wonderful feeling of knowing that your husband needed and craved your touch just as badly and constantly as you did his. You gave his hand a squeeze and smiled up at him as you began to keep pace with him.

The orchard filled with blossoming peach trees was a breathtaking sight. The bright pink and white blossoms covered the branches of trees as far as the eye could see. The sky and clear blue sky were the perfect backdrop. It was peaceful. Serene. Not unlike the garden at your home. Maybe you could convince Sukuna to let you plant some of these

You looked up at Sukuna and smiled as he put a fallen blossom behind Mouse’s ear, making her giggle and hug his head again. Another blossom fell and Mouse managed to catch it in her hands. She giggled and pointed at you. “Papa, Mama needs one! This one! Put it in her hair too, please and thank you!”

You chuckled as he gave a dejected sigh and did as she said. But the gentleness in his eyes and the way he brushed his thumb over your cheek before he cupped it showed just how wholly it was drivel. He was just as madly in love as you were, even after all these years, and you knee it. He looked at your lips and softly said your name followed by the word, “Beautiful.”

“You better knock it off. We are in public and with our children,” you said, blushing. 

“I think it’s time we left,” he smirked at you, his eyes had a heat in them as he looked at your lips again. 

As if on queue, Mouse let out a loud yawn and leaned against her father’s head, wrapping her arms around his throat. Though still awake you could hear the tired whine setting into her voice. “I not ready to go.. I just rest here, please and thank you, Papa?”

Sukuna pulled her off his shoulder, ignoring the noise of protest she made so he could hold her in his arms more easily if she fell asleep. “It’s time to head home, Mouse. We’ve got a long walk to go.”

“I too tired, Papa. My feet will fall off. Let's just stay here, please and thank you, Papa,” Mouse tried a different angle, cuddling into the warmth and strength of her father and looking up at him with giant pleading eyes.

“If your feet fall off… Does that mean I can eat them?” Sukuna flashed his sharp teeth and tickled her leg with his long nails.

“No, Papa! Don’t eat my toes!” Mouse giggled, kicking her feet. She fisted the material of his kimono in her hands and buried her face in it. 

You couldn’t help but be amused at the horrified looks of the judgemental peasants standing within hearing range of you all. They knew who Sukuna was, and the fools were unsure if it was a joke or a threat. Which was honestly fair with your husband’s history, diet and proclivities. 

The judgement and staring had started the moment you all arrived and you were well aware that their narrowed gazes would trail after you until your forms disappeared from their line of sight. After several years with Sukuna, their whispers no longer sounded like screams. Now it sounded more akin to bugs buzzing in the summer heat. A truly fitting analogy for the gossiping gussies.

The moon was high in the sky but the time Mouse and Monkey were both asleep. Tuna, as per usual, crashed out with them held hostage in Mouse’s arms. Uraume doing whatever it was Uraume did. You and Sukuna went to sit on the engawa for a few moments alone. He set aside his tea and pulled you closer to him so he could wrap his arms around you. Another hand turned up your chin and he kissed you several times before pulling away. 

You pouted at his retreat until he pulled a package out from the hidden pocket inside his black haori. You cocked your head to the side as he set it in your hands. “What’s this?”

“If you open it you will answer your own question, precious one,” he said in a teasing tone, kissing your cheek before leaning backwards and resting on the palms of his bottom two hands. 

With a bemused look on your face you carefully unwrapped the package. Your jaw fell open and your eyes filled with tears. Sukuna was truly such a thoughtful person to those he loved…

You had smiled as you placed the Hina dolls Sukuna had bought for Mouse on the hindan. Their beautiful and ornately embroidered clothing was unlike anything you had ever seen.. “These are perfect. Mouse is going to love them. I only wish I had my own to add here with hers like many families do.”

“Did you never have them?” Sukuna had asked, learning against the wall, arms crossed and watching you.

“I did. The empress was adorned in greens and  black with a beautiful silver Fengguan while the emperor was the opposite with a silver Ritsuiōkan to match his wife,” you remembered fondly. “The night they killed my parents and burned my home to the ground my dolls were destroyed. I am glad we will never allow something like this to happen to our Mouse.”

The dolls in your hand were so similar to the ones you had had in your youth, but honestly they were even more beautiful and more ornate. They were truly stunning. The empress’s Jūnihitoe was rich shades of green while her kimono and hakama were black. She had a beautiful silver fengguan with several small black and green stones in it. The emperor’s ikkan sokutai was a rich green with black designs embroidered on it like a pattern and a Ritsuiōkanthat matched his wife’s.

Sukuna’s thoughtfulness once again had your heart going into overdrive. You set the dolls aside, giving him a little grin before launching yourself at him, catching him off guard and managing to take him down. You grinned as he laid flat against the engawa on his back beneath you as you sat now straddling his hips. You leaned over and nipped at his bottom lip.

His large hands moved to your hips, pressing you down against him. He gave you a lazy, cocky grin. “I take it I did well?”

You looked down at him, one hand braced on his broad, muscular chest. The other hand reached up and removed the comb from your hair, letting it fall down freely around you. You placed that hand on his chest as when you finished and sucked in your lower lip. You leaned down and ghosted a kiss across his lips before nipping and pulling at his bottom lip again. You felt his hands gripping you firmer as they moved further back to grope your rear. 

You pressed a kiss to the shell of his ear. “What do you think?”

In less time than it took to blink, you found yourself now flat on your back staring up into your husband’s handsome face. His hands moved to the belt on his robe as he took you in, sliding it off his shoulders as you took your time blatantly checking him out. He still wore his hakama pants, but your hands eagerly and greedily reached out to touch his tanned, contoured flesh. 

“I think I did well,” he said, leaning lower. His mouth went straight to your throat, mouthing up the column of your neck and sucking marks into your flesh as he went until he reached your ear. He nipped and tugged at the bottom lobe, enjoying the small noise you couldn’t hold back. 

“But I am not finished yet, far from it. I’ve got something else to give to you too, precious one. So just sit back…” His mouth moved to your neck and you felt his teeth drag down your skin. “Just sit back, my precious one, and relax. Just take what I give you.”

And that was exactly what you did.

[aithusarosekiller]

NO HATE - but i've seen a lot of people say Trans Papa V, can i ask what i missed haha? love that for y'all fr!!

Hi 😻 I would absolutely love to yap about it! I'm gonna go through all the bases for the theory and touch a little bit on alternate theories bc it's fun to listen to multiple viewpoints even if I will always think that he's trans

It's technically just a theory/hc but since when has that ever stopped me?

So the Peacefield music video came out today and in it, there are vintage looking clips of a young girl ~12 playing in the fields (*cough cough like the twins in rhrn*) who isn't named in the credits or anything. There are a few theories surrounding who she is: some people think that she's just a one-off character to tell a story (which they have done before so it makes sense), some people think that she's sister (which is plausible as she had a religious upbringing and there are nuns in the vid, though she wasn't raised by nuns so it leaves the question of why the nuns are parenting the kids if it's sister).

Some people (me) think that it's perpetua and/or the character in lachryma. And that both mvs tell the story about where V came from. (Which is furthered through satanized and the theory that bald-guy isn't physically perpetua, but the mv is priest-Tobias seeing his true self reflecting in his inability to save people from sin, despite trying to pray the anti-pope away and stay faithful to god by helping others to find god...if that makes sense? It's a huuuuuge stretch but it's fun to think about) And this is my fav theory!

Peacefield started with the graveyard, which at first feels like a very strong sister reference bc of rhrn, and it still could be! But then it just reminded me so much of Lachryma. The Perpetua music video in an identical setting containing a young woman who looks very similar to the girl in peacefield (and dare I say perpetua).

It makes sense if Lachryma is perpetua telling somebody else's story, that's what most songs are. But it's FUN to imagine it being perpetua inside the castle (still trapped in old habits/suffering) and outside (after they decide to step up and say 'I'm done', embracing the evil creature behind them). So if you do want to assume that the person in lachryma is perpetua, and if you do agree that they look very similar to the girl in peacefield, this is what we are left with:

Idk something about that shoulder-length wavy bob feels intentional 😭

(Random other point: the papas don't typically wear the collars so it's interesting that perpetua does, and Tobias also plays the priest in satanized, who ofc wears one. And the ghouls being the clergy is a fun reference but also...the priest is in charge of his clergy and perpetua then goes on to be papa, leading the ghouls and they just FEEL intentionally paralleled beyond the meta 'haha look it's the real band!'. All 4 characters are the same person imo!)

MOVING ON. here are some interesting frames in Peacefield:

1) the girl being imposed over Perpetua, as if she has the mask. 2) perpetua over a skull that had been held in the virgin mary's hand (not necessarily related to the theory, just fun to look at). 3) perpetua placed over the field AND the woman running in it (this is held for a while). Also see the clip of the black cloak and shoes in the grass with absolutely no explanation, I think that is Perpetua. 4) Perpetua imposed over a praying nun

And there's this clip of presumably boy/girl twins playing in a field from Peacefield. Which seems........familiar!

Additional point: in chapter 20, Marika specifically mentions that they're fraternal twins. A throwaway comment? Perhaps. A reference to how different Tobias looks without the Copia prosthetics? Likely.

But for the most part, identical twins can't be the opposite sex so my silly little brain decided that's a hint :) also we still don't know where Perpetua was raised, it wasn't the psaltarians, it probably wasn't sister but yk, it technically shouldn't be Nihil bc he didn't know about the boys (despite what v may say live, which I think is Tobias having a script/slipping back to Cardi)

SO! My personal headcanon regarding perpetua unless the real lore ends up being more fun: he ended up being raised in a convent after being given up out of desperation/unwillingly, he realised he was trans when he was around 25 and managed to transition but still felt like something was missing. Was able to maintain his place in the church somehow but kept feeling a nagging feeling that something was wrong with him. Eventually it got too much and was forced to admit that he couldn't hide behind exorcisms and helping others find god, just wasn't a man of god. The guy in satanized isn't perpetua, he is merely a way of artistically showing priestpetua his true nature. The ministry call out to him and he accepts. He possibly knows judith from the church but I still don't know where I want this to go.

You don't have to take this too seriously, it'll most likely end up being nothing, I just like overanalysing and creating trans headcanons :)

Personally, I've loved the idea of trans Perpetua being raised in a convent since satanized came out but this just made me more insane about it 😭

[rafesorchid]

COTTON CANDY SKIES

plot: after a clumsy first meeting, rafe falls fast for the sweet, scatterbrained reader, and their slow friendship turns into something softer—leading to a shy first date.

CONTENT: Light swearing, slow-burn romance, awkwardness, fluff, light public embarrassment.

part 2 -> coming soon!

have fun!

you were sprawled on your bed, phone upside down on your pillow, legs kicking in the air, waiting for rafe to text back.

you’d sent him a very important question three minutes ago and it felt like a lifetime.

baby: do u think fish get thirsty or no??? baby: bc like. they r in water??? so do they still drink???

you stared at the screen, chewing your lip.

then you gasped when his name popped up.

rafe: baby i ain’t even sure how to answer that rafe: you’re somethin else

baby: lol is that bad baby: i feel like it’s a good question??? baby: i googled it but the answers were too science-y and i got confused

rafe took a second.

then:

rafe: it’s a good question rafe: real good rafe: and you’re real cute for askin' it

you buried your face in your pillow, squealing.

then you scrambled to type back:

baby: awwwww stopppp baby: i was gonna ask u another question but idk if ur busy???

rafe: never too busy for you baby rafe: call me

your heart thumped so hard you thought it might actually launch you off the bed.

your thumb slipped a little — you meant to hit “call” smooth and cool, but almost hit “facetime” by accident — and somehow, you managed to tap it right.

it rang once.

then twice.

and then —

“hey, sweet girl,” rafe’s voice rumbled through the speaker, warm enough to melt you into the mattress.

you swallowed.

“hi rafe!!” you said way too loudly.

then you winced.

“sorry i didn’t mean to yell. i just got excited. i also didn’t mean to call i was trying to text but my thumb is slippery from lotion and—”

you were rambling.

again.

but rafe didn’t seem to mind.

you could hear him smiling.

“s’okay, baby,” he said, voice all syrupy. “like hearin’ your voice better anyway.”

you kicked your feet harder, cheeks burning.

“what were you gonna ask?” he prompted, voice easy and low.

you flopped onto your stomach, squishing your face into the pillow for a second before mumbling,

“do you think clouds taste like cotton candy or like whipped cream?”

there was a pause.

then a deep, helpless chuckle.

“you’re fuckin’ adorable, you know that?” rafe said.

you blinked at the ceiling.

“…is that a compliment?”

“best one you’re ever gettin’,” rafe promised.

“also,” he added, “definitely cotton candy.”

you giggled.

“that’s what i thought too!”

for a second, neither of you said anything.

just breathing.

just feeling the line buzz soft between you.

you fiddled with the string on your hoodie, heart thudding too fast.

you weren’t even dating — not really — but talking to rafe felt like being caught in a daydream.

bright and easy and warm.

then rafe cleared his throat.

“hey,” he said, a little rough. a little shy. “you free saturday?”

you blinked.

“i think so,” you said. “unless i forgot something. sometimes i do that. one time i double-booked myself for a dentist appointment and a haircut and i got my teeth cleaned with half a mullet—”

rafe was laughing, deep and wrecked, before you could even finish.

“baby,” he said, still laughing, “i’ll take my chances.

wanna take you out. like— like a real date.”

your stomach did a full somersault.

“like… a real real date?” you asked, voice small and hopeful.

“yeah, sweet girl,” rafe said, soft and sure.

“been wantin’ to.

figure it’s about time i make it official.”

you buried your face in the pillow again, squealing so quietly he almost couldn’t hear it.

“okay,” you said, breathless. “i’ll go! but only if you promise not to laugh if i spill something. or if i trip. or if i get spaghetti in my hair. that happened one time too—”

rafe cut you off with another warm, easy laugh.

“baby,” he said.

“i’m gonna think you’re perfect no matter what you do.”

you blinked fast, the lump in your throat sneaking up on you.

no one had ever said it like that before.

no teasing.

no hesitation.

just real and simple and true.

“okay,” you whispered.

“i’ll pick you up at six,” he said. “wear whatever you want. you’re already perfect to me.”

you nodded even though he couldn’t see you.

“okay,” you said again, dazed and dreamy.

rafe stayed on the line a second longer.

like he didn’t wanna hang up either.

“sleep good, sweet girl,” he murmured.

“dream somethin’ pretty.”

“like cotton candy clouds?” you asked, sleepy and giggly.

“yeah, baby,” rafe said, voice all honey and smoke. “just like that.”

you fell asleep with your phone still clutched in your hand.

dreaming of pink skies and a boy who looked at you like you were made of sunlight.

author's note

i'm literally sosososos grateful for all 81 of you <3 if you want more specific drabbles/fics send in an ask! love u all lots <3

[cultkinkcoven]

@zaizai-11037 Decided to make a whole post about this because I realized I actually have A LOT to say about this. Hope that’s okay lol

Ok, the first thing is that Lord Lucifer is not a human. You don’t feel jealous when you see the sun shining on someone else’s face because you too can go out and stand in the sunlight. You don’t get jealous that someone across the planet is seeing the moon, because you know you will see her in a few hours. Lucifer is not a man, he is a spirit that can be embodied. He is in the artist’s pen and the poet’s tongue, he is the raven caw and the howling wind. I try not to anthropomorphize him *too much*, because he is not a human. He’s not an invisible man. He is everywhere at once, and I know that he’s still with me even when I can’t see him. He’s still with me when he’s with everyone else.

The other thing is knowing that he’s still speaking to me through his interactions with others. That’s why I love reading other people’s experiences so much, I learn more about him through them. And sometimes those posts inspire me to approach him with new questions. I feel a kinship with others who know him like this, I’m excited and relieved to know I’m not the only one. My immediate response is usually awe rather than jealousy.

And lastly, my Lucifer is mine. Every relationship every person has with him is unique. Lucifer may have many lovers but none of them are the same. I don’t yearn to experience what others are experiencing, I’m busy having my own experiences. It’s nice to witness them experiencing something similar to me, we can relate to each other. But no one else is ever going to be what I am to him, and the same applies to everyone he has ever had a relationship with. My Lucifer talks to me and manifests to me differently than he does to anyone else, even if he uses a few of the same tricks.

I was going to end this post here, but I think that would be a bit dishonest. To be completely real, I DO get a little bit jealous sometimes lol. It’s one of those things that is illogical and unavoidable sometimes, feeling that way isn’t wrong, especially when it is uncontrollable. Such is the way of the human heart. I saw a post from an amazing artist who painted a beautiful piece for him and their caption said something like “I want to be his personal painter” and I was like !!IM! His personal painter!!!

It’s silly lol, and it’s fun to laugh about it. Having jealousy isn’t really the issue, the actions one takes afterwards however may be.

The thing that has always made it easier for me has been Lucifer’s reaction himself. I know he’s just happy to have two painters. He seems to find it endearing when I find myself in these little ruts. My eagerness to please him, to compensate for my slight jealousy, only means I’ll be more vigorous in my devotion. And in some weird way, his teasing makes everything feel less serious.

“Oh, are you working hard for me, my boy?”

“That seemed to strike a nerve, are you going to make me a painting too now?“

He has a sense of pride knowing that I do get jealous, that I do want to be favoured. And I gain fulfillment from my increased efforts.

and i don’t even know if I should say this, but the realest answer of them all is sometimes I do get jealous and I just act like a brat. That’s it. He’s extremely in tune with my mood and he notices the slightest hint of attitude- and then he’s immediately present.

“what’s your problem?”

“who are you looking at like that?”

sometimes the only good answer is to just ask for attention, and Lucifer luckily is usually very willing to give it. He has never turned away from me when I needed him, even when all I needed was validation. He is never too far away and he will always come when I call. He’s very good at easing my obsessive mind.

So the tldr is: asides from the whole not a human being thing, Lord Lucifer is really good at keeping his hoes in check

So happy that Lord Lucifer has other followers … cause on the days I don’t have the time or energy to be at my altar or offer him something, I’m so so relieved to see posts from other Luciferians talking about what they did with him that day. It’s like, oh, thank Gods, there are others leaving him sweet treats and writing him poems and showering him in praises today. He still has the support of his cult behind him even when I’m away, he’s not alone. And seeing other people’s experiences just makes me even more excited to reunite with him. I love seeing his little quirks appear in other people’s conversations with him.

something something spiritual polyamory? ?Rejoicing in the shared love of a God is so magical …

[vidavalor]

hi! back with (yet another) word nerdy question. (I’ve brought cookies this time!) in the 1941 episodes, Crowley refers to the church as “consecrated ground” but furfur calls it “hallowed ground”, i was wondering what your thoughts on that were? always love reading your metas!

Hi there, @the-ineffable-parker 💕 Thank you muchly & what a very fun topic! Alright, throw on some Hozier 😂 so we can talk about what the story's ongoing discussion about how the show's discussion of what constitutes consecrated ground, including this consecrated vs. hallowed contrast, might have to say about themes around autonomy and authority.

I have also had more than one anon send me a request for stuff on consecrated ground so *radio voice* this one also goes out to all you lovelies who were not only nice enough to ask but who gave me an excuse to look at Aziraphale-as-Crowley in the bathtub during an otherwise kind of irritating week. 😂

TW: Mentions of Heaven & Hell violating bodily autonomy.

Consecrated vs. hallowed is an example of offering the audience a pair of near-synonyms for the purpose of having a conversation about the themes that come up when looking at the differences between these words. There are others like this in Good Omens, too:

Welfare vs. quality of life. Magician vs. conjurer. Job vs. profession. Seller vs. purveyor. Father vs. dad. Master vs. boss. The historical mister vs. doctor debate. Lift vs. elevator, etc..

So, what of consecrated vs. hallowed?

Technically, both of these words mean that which is considered to have been made holy through some sort of rite or ceremony. You wouldn't use them interchangeably, though, because one of the words-- hallowed-- has evolved to also have a secular meaning, whereas consecrated has remained a word that-- unless you're writing something blasphemously sexy 😉-- would still just be used exclusively to describe something faith-based.

Hallowed ground can be theatres and libraries and historic buildings and the like but, when we're talking about physical locations, consecrated ground is still considered just places of worship and burial sites and other religious places.

Hallowed is an example of a secular evolution of a word in a direction away from its original, religious meaning. There are many that have gone that route and also many that have been stolen by religious groups. Good Omens focuses attention on quite a few words in these crosshairs, like passion, profession, joy, and halo. Contrasting hallowed with consecrated allows the story to have a discussion about how linguistic evolution away from religion reflects many, if not all, humans also evolving away from it.

The word hallow is a pretty-much-obsolete-unless-you're-writing-a-press-release-for-The-Vatican word for a saint, which is how it came to mean that which is holy. This is also the etymology of why we call the holiday at the end of October 'Halloween', from its earlier name of All Saints' Eve.

Halloween is pretty much the most perfect evolution away from anything once at least somewhat related to Christianity that has ever existed 😂 and the evolution of hallowed is much the same so it doesn't surprise me that a demon like Furfur would prefer to use the word hallowed over the word consecrated. The demons were all ex-communicated from Heaven so they're all for humans blasphemously evolving religious words away from those types of meaning.

This is where we have to get into the big question that bringing up these words in the first place asks of the audience, though, which is:

Who gets to say what is holy?

Good Omens' theme of autonomy is freedom is, unsurprisingly, interwoven with its theme of recognizing your own authority to author your own life.

We sometimes might think that there is a higher authority who can answer things for us-- someone more powerful than ourselves. We might be prone to thinking that fallible human beings who are seen by some as holy should be granted authority by us when it comes to influencing our thoughts and actions. In thinking this, we're selling ourselves short and allowing others control over us. It impacts our ability to self-determine and impedes our freedom and our health. The effects of this are so dangerous that it puts our lives at risk.

There are people, often some men, who will say that there is a God who has granted them the power to speak for them. That their word is God and that if you aren't following their word, you aren't following the word of God, and that means you are evil. You are a demon. You are a heretic. You are anathema. You are a sinner and will be forever damned. And they will use this power they claim comes from God to maintain their own power and while controlling and abusing others.

They will try to poison your mind with self-loathing and try to convince you to harm yourself by repressing yourself and denying your own needs. They will try to tell you what to consume with the body that is, at once, both supposed to be seen as a celestial temple but also repugnant and unholy with impure needs for which you should repent. They will, if you let them, cause you to starve yourself in every possible way there is to do so.

They will try to tell you that you're sinful if you desire or love another consenting adult of whom they don't approve. They will try to tell you what to wear, what to eat, how to behave, to most exemplify what they consider to be pure, and not accept that you might think differently. They see your body as belonging to them and do not recognize your autonomy.

These are just people. They have no authority that you don't give them. They do not care about you-- they want to own you. They will harm you to maintain their own power. You do not need to listen to them. You are the judge of you. Autonomy is freedom and freedom cannot be had by listening to people who try to do you harm. You are the higher authority you're looking for.

The question of who gets to decide what is holy? is, really, also the question of why should anyone recognize as a holy authority anyone who does not respect the sanctity of a person's right to autonomy?

If you notice, Furfur isn't really shocked that Crowley was able to get into a church and remain unharmed. He isn't all omg how did he not go up in flames upon crossing the threshold?! He's just surprised that Crowley elected to go into a church at all, since the whole thing about all the original demons is that they were all thrown out of Heaven. This goes along with other scenes about consecrated ground that we've seen in both seasons.

It seems that the insides of churches are considered the domain of Heaven by the demons, who, as the metaphorically dead, prefer to haunt their territory of churchyards. This would make sense since we've already seen many other scenes showing demons walking across what would be considered consecrated ground without issue, like Crowley, Hastur, & Ligur in the churchyard in 1.01, and Beez in the Edinburgh graveyard in 2.06.

This is where we can also see that there's a question of whether or not there's even such thing as consecrated ground in the 'will burn a demon' sense in Good Omens.

If four demons have been seen walking around churchyards and if Crowley has been drinking Chateauneuf-du-Pape from vineyards in Avignon-- the former site of the papacy where every square inch of it was long ago consecrated by the Catholic Church-- then it's pretty clear that human beings, at least, do not have any authority to consecrate in the religious sense any bit of land or water or the like.

That would go along with the themes we're discussing here, as it effectively says that there is no human being on Earth with any divine power beyond the fact that every human being is a divine star child because being human itself is what is supernatural. The Earth itself is all consecrated ground and should be treated as such but, say, parish priests blessing water and land and all that is not really doing anything.

This would mean that all genuine holy water in the series-- like the stuff that killed Ligur-- would need to be made from or blessed by a literal angel. The "holy water" in the church in 1941 was just water, which is what Crowley was joking about, but he'd later apparently felt that he found some actual holy water in some church by 1967 that he had been planning to rob. Considering that Aziraphale knew about it, it's likely that Aziraphale was even the one who had blessed the water in that church.

This is even if holy water blessed by literal angels in Good Omens is real and, yeah, I say that even after Ligur, because you could argue that it's possible that Ligur believed it was real and that's really how he died. In a story where Crowley willed himself alive through the M25 fire and with the whole make it happen, make it real theme... I'm still not really convinced that holy water and hellfire are things unless you actually believe that they are. They well might be but I think that it's at least a bit open to interpretation.

Additionally, you'd think that the most consecrated place anywhere for a demon ever would be Heaven, right? That they should never be able to step foot back in there ever again, if any of this consecration stuff is real? Except, we've seen that's not the case...

Yes, you could argue that maybe Heaven and Hell did some magical exception thing to trade Michael down and Eric up in the holy water/hellfire part of S1 but Crowley strolling into Heaven in S2 would seem to negate that idea. It's more that angels can get into Hell and demons into Heaven but they mostly usually just don't because those places are considered enemy territory by one another, even if it's all the same terrifying office building.

Crowley explaining angels as bees to Muriel also showed that he already thought it was more a matter of blending in than getting into Heaven. And what did he do when he followed Muriel to their office?

That silly little hop dance, poking fun at the idea of consecrated ground, as he undoubtedly also was thinking about the church in 1941. Heaven, ugh, it's like being on a beach in bare feet! Let's hop to it, Inspector Constable, and get outta here... 😂 As we saw, he was fine to walk in Heaven, which makes it then pretty unlikely that he wasn't also fine to walk in a human church in 1941.

People are going to burn me at the stake for this lol but... I've always thought that things like this make it more than likely that Crowley was just joking about his feet burning when he entered the church in 1941. *ducks* Let's put it this way-- it's interpretable...

So, regardless of whether or not Crowley's feet were actually burning in the church in 1941, he's being flippant about consecrated ground and, as you asked, why might he use that word in this scene, when Furfur used hallowed and Crowley, honestly, probably often would, too, in other scenarios?

Because physical places, as we've mentioned above, are not the only things that people might consider holy.

Crowley has a very understandable distaste for how Heaven-- and Earthly churches like it-- say you are supposed to starve yourself of consumption and pleasure and keep "pure" the celestial temple of your body. Not only are these ideas just very unhealthy, Crowley is not about to let Heaven's ideas of bodily sanctity be his own when Heaven does not acknowledge and respect anyone's bodily autonomy, including his own.

Heaven abused him. They took his memories, burned him, gave him an unwanted snake side to his corporation. They called him evil and kicked him out and, as he put it when projecting his fall all over those poor goats in the Job minisode, had "given him up to be destroyed," which is a word that was once also used to refer to rape. He's talking about how Heaven declared him a demon, ex-communicated him, and said that, in their view, he and his celestial temple belonged to his rapist for eternity.

Crowley has religious trauma still as much as the next demon, sure, but, after all he's seen and that has happened to him, he is, ya know, going to generally be a hard pass on buying into Heaven's opinion on what healthy and holy is.

As it is, everything Crowley and Aziraphale believe are truly sanctified are all things with which The Metatron would disagree anyway.

So, in 1941, Crowley is walking into a Christian church, fully aware that he is literally the epitome of everything that church would say is a sin-- a queer, gender-everything, heathen of a demon. Just as Satan and The Metatron forbid relationships like Crowley and Aziraphale's, so did-- and still do-- many human churches like this one... and there was Crowley dryly aware that he was getting to the Nazi-laden church on time to roll up the aisle like he was soon to be Aziraphale's wife.

Whatever a wife is, as Jim so aptly questioned in S2, since that word has a long, patriarchal history implying an obedience that does not reinforce ideas of women being autonomous beings. This church Crowley's entered in 1941 would say that a wife should be subservient to her husband and that would be what would make her holy. Crowley and Aziraphale and their partnership of equals couldn't be any further from any of that.

Within the church, marriage is a sacrament, which is a type of consecration. It's the church sanctifying an union between people. It's an example of an exercise of authority that is supported by getting people to buy into the idea of their church being the only, true authority.

A marriage not sanctified by the church is, in the church's eyes, not a marriage. They define sin and a love that is seen as a sin can never be holy, in their view. This only matters if you recognize the church's authority.

Just as Heaven and Hell don't recognize Crowley and Aziraphale's love as holy, neither did this church. Neither did the country they were in, either, as it was 1941. Forget about it being illegal to marry Aziraphale at that time, it was still illegal in England just to be queer then, as it also was pretty much everywhere else.

Crowley entered the church knowing that the entire known universe at that time would never recognize his right to marry Aziraphale because it didn't even recognize their right to be themselves, live their own lives, claim their bodies as their own and make their own decisions about them. All of that was-- and still is-- pretty ironic to Crowley because there are things that he considers holy and his and Aziraphale's love is at the top of that list.

As Crowley entered the church, he was more than aware of how matrimonial all of this was. He was going up the aisle to Aziraphale at the altar in a place that preached that everything about them and their love was a sin. Regardless of whether or not you believe his feet were truly burning, Crowley was making fun of the idea that many people believe places like this church are the epitome of holy when, really, what is truly holy is much of what they call sinful.

He was being every snarky, traumatized queer whom the universe had dragged back to mass for a funeral or whatever, bitchily joking to his partner about how it was amazing that they didn't spontaneously combust upon crossing the threshold, evil, sinful heretics that they are. 😂 Argh, angel, I can't believe you're making me go to *church* to rescue you... oh, the consecrated ground-- how it burns my evil toes!

He knew he could get away with being thoroughly obnoxious about it because Aziraphale doesn't really disagree with him about any of this. Crowley's lover got humor. She's the giggle at a funeral. Crowley compares the non-existent physical pain to "like being on a beach in bare feet" and we've seen that he and Aziraphale use the sea to refer to sex so it's saying that this is all just the worst, having to romance Aziraphale by going into a church, but he's naturally there anyway because of course he is. 💘

Walking on a beach in bare feet is also basically the same thing, from a physics standpoint, as firewalking, which people have done as a religious rite/test of faith for ages. People of these faiths believe that being able to walk across hot stones and the like shows that one is holy because it must take divinity to do so. It doesn't. It's science.

It's literally just that the act of continued walking is what keeps your feet from being scalded. Your body is cooler than the stones and, since you're walking quickly over them, no part of your foot ever touches the hot stone long enough to absorb enough of the heat to burn the way that they would if you were to stand still over them. See above link, if interested, for how that connects to the theme of "walking the Earth"-- "professional cobbler"; "Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings Who Walk the Earth", etc..

There is something very dry about Crowley essentially riffing on things like consecrated ground burning demons and humans thinking firewalking sanctifies them because Crowley is literally a scientist who essentially was ex-communicated for suggesting that maybe there's more going on with the universe than it being there for people to be all "wow, God is amazing!" over.

On this theme, as we see Crowley's autonomy violated by Satan in 1.01, "Bohemian Rhapsody" is practically narrating it and Crowley grabbing the wheel to avoid the truck with🎵 Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo🎵 blaring through the speakers was connecting Crowley to another polymath who suffered a similar fate.

In the church in 1941, Crowley is on consecrated ground to him-- but not because he's in a church. Because he's there for Aziraphale, to whom he's utterly devoted, and their relationship is sanctified to Crowley. Their love is holy to them. Crowley keeps his little dance going mostly for the whole scene and you can see Aziraphale look at Crowley and smile at his shenanigans in the bit below.

Joking about consecrated ground and Crowley's humor about it in 1941 is also what I think might be behind Aziraphale initially keeping Crowley's feet out of the holy water during the body swap.

As we saw with Aziraphale's delight over telling Crowley about asking for the rubber duck, he was saying and doing a bunch of things he thought would not only help him to pass as Crowley but which would amuse Crowley when he told him later on. Being able to tell him that he was sure to keep his feet out of the holy water as much as possible would be something that Aziraphale knew was likely to earn him a laugh.

So, Furfur helps to illustrate that the demons are allowed in hallowed places like churches because places of worship truly are, technically, open to anyone there in peace. There are just plenty of people for whom the doors to the church are supposedly open but the hatred there is enough to make them feel less than welcome.

Furfur suspected that Crowley was up to something treasonous when he heard Crowley was in a church with someone because it made more sense to him for Crowley to be there with an angel committing treason than it would be for a demon to want to go to church.

While Crowley, on the other hand, called a church consecrated ground to use the purely holy connotation of the word to make fun of people who felt they could define holiness while not respecting bodily autonomy and personhood, including failing to recognize as sanctified love like that of him and Aziraphale.

In truth, what Crowley and Aziraphale are when they are together is also really the word that Furfur used-- they're hallowed. From the root kailo, meaning: whole, uninjured, and of good omen.

[fadedpiink]

stay one-shot

best friend usopp x gn!reader

synopsis: something shifts between them, and nothing feels the same

contains: best friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, soft angst, emotional comfort, first kiss, confession, sunshine x anxious romantic, 1.3k word count

author's note: ilove usopp so much guysOMGG

you weren’t sure when it started. maybe it was the night he sat beside you during a storm, both of you pretending you weren’t scared — him of the thunder, you of the dark. or maybe it was always there, tucked between the laughter and the long conversations, hiding in plain sight.

either way, it lingered.

tonight, the crew had gone to sleep early. dinner had turned into storytelling — luffy loud, nami sharp, sanji floating somewhere between flirting and frustration. usopp had stolen a little extra time, like he always did, just for you.

you sat side by side on the deck, backs against the railing, knees brushing. the ocean was quiet, just soft waves against the sunny's side. he was rambling about a sea king he'd “totally defeated” once, hands moving wildly, eyes catching the lanternlight.

you smiled, chin on your arms. “you really gonna keep telling that story like it wasn’t a crab the size of a barrel?”

“hey!” he shot back, offended but not. “you weren’t there, you don’t know what kind of monster i had to face. besides, it was biting me.”

“it nibbled your boot.”

“semantics.”

you laughed, breathy and warm, and his smile softened like it always did when he got that sound out of you.

“you always do this,” you said quietly after a beat.

he glanced over. “do what?”

“make everything feel… okay. even when it’s not.”

his eyes lingered on you, searching for something. “well… you do that for me too.”

you nodded once, not trusting yourself to speak.

because the truth was — you didn’t know when being around him had stopped feeling like just fun, and started feeling like safety. like home. like something you weren’t supposed to need but somehow did, deep in your chest, behind your ribs where the big feelings go to hide.

“you ever think about what happens after all this?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

he tilted his head. “you mean… after the one piece?”

“yeah. like… where we go. who we’ll be. who’ll still… stay.”

usopp was quiet for a moment. not in a way that made you nervous — in a way that told you he was really thinking.

“i think…” he started, voice slow, “i think i want to build something. a home. maybe a workshop. something that’s mine.”

you turned to him, surprised. “really?”

he nodded, eyes on the stars now. “yeah. i think i’m tired of proving myself. i just wanna be. y’know?”

you did.

you really did.

“and…” he continued, more careful now, “i think i’d want people i care about to be close. people who’ve always been there.”

your heart skipped.

not in a romantic, sweeping way — in a quiet, maybe this is a turning point kind of way.

he turned to look at you again, and this time he didn’t look away.

“would you stay?” he asked.

the question wrapped itself around your chest. not desperate. not dramatic. just… real.

“if you asked,” you said, “i would.”

a beat passed. maybe two. he looked like he was about to say something, lips parting — but then he just smiled, soft and a little sad.

“cool,” he whispered. “cool.”

you leaned your head onto his shoulder, and he didn’t flinch or freeze like you half expected. he just leaned a little closer too.

the moment settled.

you sat like that for a while, the night pressing gentle against your skin, like the world didn’t need to move if you didn’t.

but then, right before you both stood to go back inside, he said it — just loud enough to be real, just soft enough to pretend it wasn’t.

“i think i love you. but i’m scared to ruin everything.”

you didn’t answer right away. just looked at him, eyes wide, breath caught somewhere halfway.

and then, almost too quiet for the sea to hear: “me too.”

he nodded, once.

you smiled. it trembled.

he reached out and took your hand anyway.

and for tonight, that was enough.

the days after blurred together, soft and strange and a little bittersweet.

it didn’t happen right away.

after that night on the deck — after the trembling “me too” and the warm press of his hand — you both fell back into a rhythm. one that still carried the same laughter, the same late-night talks, the same easy closeness.

but now… there was weight.

like every shared glance had something unsaid behind it. like every shoulder touch lingered just half a second too long. and usopp… usopp didn’t hide it well. he never had.

you’d catch him staring sometimes. looking at you like he was memorizing you for a goodbye he hadn’t spoken yet. like he was still deciding if he was brave enough to have you fully — or if having you halfway was safer. easier.

and you didn’t push. not because you didn’t want to. but because you understood.

you’d seen the way he doubted himself.

you knew the stories he told weren’t just entertainment — they were armor. carefully spun shields against a world that had tried too many times to convince him he wasn’t enough.

so you waited. because loving him meant knowing when to hold on quietly.

but tonight… something was different.

the ship had docked for supplies. most of the crew had gone into town — luffy dragging zoro toward food, nami muttering something about needing more tangerines. you and usopp had stayed behind, both of you pretending it was coincidence.

the sun was just starting to set, sky bleeding gold over the water. you were sitting at the top of the crow’s nest, legs swinging over the edge. you heard his footsteps before you saw him. careful. steady.

“thought you might be up here,” he said, settling beside you.

you smiled. “you always find me.”

he didn’t answer right away. just let the silence stretch, the wind lifting pieces of his hair.

“i haven’t stopped thinking about it,” he said finally. voice low. like if he said it too loud, it’d break.

you didn’t ask what “it” was. you already knew.

“me either.”

he looked down at his hands, like they held the answers.

“i keep playing it over. that night. the way you looked at me.” he glanced at you then. “the way it felt like i could breathe again and not at the same time.”

you laughed — soft and sad. “yeah. it kind of wrecked me a little.”

his head tipped toward you, eyes wide. “really?”

you nodded. “in a good way. but yeah.”

he exhaled slowly.

 then:

“can i tell you something?”

you turned to face him fully. “always.”

he fidgeted for a second — nervous, but determined. then he said:

“i don’t want to be afraid anymore. not of this. not of you.”

and then… quietly…

“i want to kiss you.”

your heart cracked open.

not from shock. not even from the tenderness. but from the relief.

like every minute you’d waited — every slow burn second of holding back — had finally found its reason.

you leaned forward, forehead brushing his.

“then do it,” you whispered.

he didn’t move at first. like he wanted to memorize the permission. then — gently, almost reverent — his hand came up to cup your jaw. calloused fingers, warm and shaking just slightly.

and then he kissed you.

not perfectly. not like the stories. his nose bumped yours. your teeth clicked.

but it was real. soft and steady and full of everything he hadn’t been able to say.

he pulled back first, eyes searching yours like he was scared he’d broken something.

but you just smiled. and leaned in again. because he hadn’t broken anything — he’d finally let it begin.

the second kiss was better. less careful. more yours.

when it broke, you didn’t move far. just stayed tucked against him, legs tangled, hands resting over his heartbeat.

“what now?” he asked into your hair.

you sighed, content.

“now we keep going. same as always. but this time… you don’t have to pretend you don’t want to hold my hand.”

he laughed, light and warm and real.

“deal.”

and right there, with the sea whispering below and the sky burning above, something shifted.

best friends, still. but no more pretending.

no more almosts.

just you and usopp, choosing each other

masterlist hope you enjoyed! please like + reblog to show support, and feel free to leave feedback and comments through rb tags, anon messages, or dms!

© fadedpiink 2025

[bullet-prooflove]

Ethical Thieving: Andrew 'Pope' Cody x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @fadeinsol @akotafi @yousigned-upforthis @cowardlycandy

Companion piece to:

The Professional - Pope meets the love of his life when Smurf hires her to crack a safe.

Crazy (NSFW) - Pope's always been crazy but now he's also a man in love.

Tomorrow - Pope's family always fuck up the good in his life.

Do Over Day (NSFW) - Pope tries to make up for the day before.

Pope learns about ‘ethical thieving’ during one of your safe cracking lessons. He’s halfway through the tumblers on an Aspen 305 when you ask the question. “Have you ever stolen anything from a gallery?”

“No.” He tells you as he listens to the fourth one drop. “We’ve never had a fence that can move that type of shit.”

Art theft comes with its own unique set of problems. You usually need to have a buyer in place because the items are too hot to put out on the open market. Those types of people don’t exist in his world, they’re always too high maintenance or pretentious.

“No fence required in this one, no pay day either.”

He glances at you over his shoulder.

“No payday?” He exclaims, shaking his head. “Then why do it?”

“Sometimes it’s not about the money, it’s about righting a wrong.” You explain as he turns his attention back to the safe. He hears the locking mechanism click as he slides home, spinning the handle at the same time. The heavy door opens to reveal his prize, a Snickers bar resting on the middle shelf.

You’ve discovered he works best with an incentive so you’ve been sneaking candy into the safes to give him that drive. You never tell him what it is, which only adds to the intrigue.

“And what wrong would we be righting?” He asks, removing the Snickers and tearing it open with his teeth. He breaks it in half before handing you a piece which you take happily.

“We’d be liberating a portrait that was looted by a war criminal from his private collection.” You tell him with that mischievous look in your eye and that fire in him ignites because you, you might just be his salvation.

He’s never thought about utilizing his skillset for something like this before. All the jobs Smurf has given him have been for profit or to suit her needs, not anyone else’s. This is a chance to do some good, to put something positive back into the world.

“I’m game.” He tells you, focusing on unwrapping more of the candy bar. “It’ll be our first solo job together, maybe kinda like a date.”

“I’m not sure how all our other dates will live up to this one.” You tell him as you hop off the wooden work bench and duck underneath it to remove the schematics for the gallery. “Stealing Nazi artwork is kinda hard to top.”

“I’m sure we’ll find away.” He murmurs as he steps up alongside you, tilting his head to review the plans. “I didn’t miss the implication there would be more than one date by the way.”

“Good.” You tell him, your hip bumping against his. “I was hoping you didn’t.”

**

You really do plan the best first dates.

That private gallery job, it’s everything he could have hoped for.

Challenging, fun and the best part is he gets to burn down the whole fucking place to the ground.

A cleansing, you call it after you discover ‘Girl in A Yellow Sundress’ sitting amidst a plethora of Nazi memorabilia. It’s not the normal type of stuff you see in museums, it’s deranged fucked up shit like teeth from Auschwitz and baby shoes. The essence of human misery emanates from that room like a fucking beacon before it disappears in a puff of smoke, all of those trapped spirits returning to the ether.

The biggest high of the night is when you stop off outside the little house on Oakview. He watches from the driver’s seat as you climb the steps with the black telescopic tube slung over your shoulder. You’re greeted at the door by an old woman, one that grasps you so tightly he’s terrified she’s going to break something with the forcefulness of the notion. It’s that gratitude that lights up something deep within his soul, that knowledge that he helped with that, that he did something right for once in his life.

“Who was she?” He asks you when you’re back at your place, sipping beers on the back porch in the darkness. There’s a couple of candles burning on the wicker table in front of the outdoor couch, illuminating the two of you as you listen to the waves crashing against the shore.

“She was my foster mother once upon a time.” You tell him, pulling the hair clip from your hair. It falls across your features in waves and he wants nothing more than to run his hands through it. “After I killed my father, she took me in, raised me, taught me how to crack a safe. She gave me a trade that didn’t involve selling my body.”

“Is that why we took the painting?” He asks you, his arm coming to rest along the back of the sofa. His fingertips trailing over your bare shoulder, tracing the pattern of that Medusa tattoo on your bicep.

“She barely survived Auschwitz as a girl.” You say softly. “Her parents didn’t. The portrait is of her mother, one she barely remembers because of the Alzheimer’s. I hoped her having it would help with the good parts of her memory, that it would bring her some comfort.”

“You have a good soul.” He tells you, his palm coming to cradle your face, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek. “If you wanna do more of these jobs, help more people, then I’m up for it. Hell, I could probably do with the good karma.”

Your lips brush over the base of his wrist, your eyes on his and he inhales sharply at the intimacy of the sensation.

“Too much?” You ask and he shakes his head, his breathing ragged.

“Not enough.” He murmurs. “I want…”

The words die on his lips because Pope, he’s never really considered his own needs before, he’s been too busy taking care of everyone else’s.

You shift positions, climbing into his lap. The two of you fit together like the missing pieces of a jigsaw, it’s both wonderful and overwhelming all at the same time. His hands come to rest on your waist squeezing lightly as he tilts his head up to meet your gaze.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask him and he nods unsteadily.

“You can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

Your hands thread through his curls, tugging just a little and he moans outloud as your mouth meets his. You have the softest damn lips, he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like chasing over his neck, his chest, his dick. A burst of citrus blossoms on his tongue, the taste of your lip balm and his hips arch causing you to make that sound, the sweet one he hears only in his dreams.

His hands rove over your clothes, stroking, caressing, kneading until your grinding against him so hard, he thinks he’s about to lose it.

“Gonna come.” He warns you, his voice a rasp.

“So am I.” You whisper back, your teeth grazing his lower lip. “You want me to stop?”

“Fuck no.” He whispers as that ecstasy surges up inside him. “I wanna keep going for as long as it takes us.”

Love Pope? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[honeyhonest]

blog etc updates

okay phew. I'm kinda burnt out today but I appreciate all of the support and kind words about my writing. for someone who posts so much I sure don't like it!!! lmao. it means a lot to me that people do, though, I hope I get to write here forever (on that note I am SO SORRY to people who follow this blog for writing, I barely ever post that) because I've had so much fun and I'm genuinely really grateful that I've gotten to know a community that I feel comfortable with. I don't have many followers here, but within the first few months of running this blog I've met people who are now like my favorite mutuals and friends. I'm looking forward to the future, hopefully one where I have more time to write. and organize this blog bc it's a chronic mess LOL

as for pomdove, I think I've decided it's time to move on. it's been causing me so much stress since decemberish and I wasn't kidding when I said it's like I'm in an abusive relationship with that blog because my cortisol hasn't been so high since 2021. some result of the unrepentant hate I get, not being able to write what I want to write, having to do my customer service voice (antithetical to my melancholic personality), guilt about not writing requests and answering asks/dms fast enough, comparing myself to other writers, my dwindling interest in the main cast, and, of course, oh my god I am not a content creator or a company Stop That

it will remain up but muted and inactive, and I will continue my ongoing series (noble bell, ad perpetuam memoriam, and the cauldron of the unborn) on ao3 in the upcoming months. because I likeys them. as of now I'm going to focus on finishing requests. this is more relevant for my followers there, so honeyhonest-only followers don't even worry. all you need to know is that I'm going to finish the tagging system soon

I'm so tired right now

open to comments, questions, and concerns about any of this

EDIT: thought I'd add that you can otherwise find me:

here (main blog) here (personal blog- please follow me there since I don't post as much on main!!!) discord is fellowhonests

[manias-wordcount]

Haaiii!! I hope ur well and that life is not giving u much trouble! I have a request and I read ur rules so feel free to change/correct me on anything you think is wrong! I really don’t mind, DW.

Basically, Kazuha from Genshin Impact with a reader who is Beidou’s younger sister. Nothing too specific.(of course this is like an Kazuha x reader😭)

I imagine like Beidou teasing both the reader and Kazuha since they are a little secretive about their relationship for a long time.

U can make it smut, angst, fluff anything since I’m really desperate for this trope OML😭😭

I’m sorry if I missed any rules or wrote too much I’m a little nervous tho.

If u have any more questions ask and take ur time🫶🏼also forgive me English is not my first language.

Best Kept Secret (Kazuha Kaedehara x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗸𝗮𝘇𝘂𝗵𝗮 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗲𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗲 <𝟯 𝗕𝗨𝗧 𝗦𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗜𝗙 𝗜 𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗬𝗢𝗡𝗘 𝗢𝗢𝗖 𝗜𝗧𝗦 𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗟𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗜'𝗩𝗘 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗘𝗗 </𝟯 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?  

Kazuha doesn’t understand why you insist on keeping this a secret.

But to that, you tell him that sometimes, things are a little more fun when you feel like it’s something you’re not supposed to do. He tells you back with kisses to your jaw that to him, you will never feel like something he’s not supposed to do. And his earnest tone and passionate look are almost enough to get you to finally admit that the real reason you don’t want anyone to know is because you made a bet with your sister that the fact that he’s kissing your skin like you’re the only thing he needs in life is evidence enough that you lost the bet and you lost it badly. And you rather go as long as you possibly can without having to pay your sister her money.

But, it’s because of that reluctance you feel to pay your already very wealthy sister her money that everything seems to snap back into focus for you the moment you hear someone knocking at the door.

Seconds before this, there was nothing to distract you. Nothing to pull you out of this state. Because your thoughts had gone all fuzzy and your mind was full of clouds. Because you were so, so lost in your own little world that you barely even registered the change in the way that the boat was swaying. Nor did you register the sounds of birds getting closer and louder while the scent of petrichor started to mix itself with the familiar scent of the open seas. You just couldn’t. 

And that was all thanks to the boy currently hovering over you, of course.

Though really, you couldn’t blame him for everything. The two of you couldn’t seem to keep your hands off of each other lately. What started as casual brushes against each other’s arms in the dark of the night when no one was looking somehow turned into seeking each other out in the middle of the day, just to pull the other in some supply closet or bedroom or office or whatever and take advantage of what little time you two had before someone invariably started calling one of your names. It’s routine at this point. A routine you couldn’t help but adore.

Especially now that this particular time started with you tugging Kazuha away from his perch and dragging him back to his room on the Alcor. He had only half complained about when you started pulling him away. Mumbling something about how it was going to be a real shame missing the view as the boat pulled into Liyue Harbor. But only seconds after you had closed and locked his door, he was already pushing you onto his bed and climbing over you with a heated look in his eyes.

“Minx,” He had called you, a small smile playing at his lips as he leaned ever so closer. “Though I suppose the view I have right now is far more beautiful than the Sea of Clouds could ever be.”

Although, you didn’t exactly let him finish. You were far too busy pushing up as best as you could from the bed and pressing your lips against his. He wasted no time kissing back, pushing you down into his thin mattress, and brushing his tongue against yours. 

What then ensured was a particularly passionate make-out session. One that left you perpetually breathless as your hands went to thread themselves through Kazuha’s hair and your legs began to tangle with his. Every single time you separated to breathe your own air, Kazuha wouldn’t let you get very far before he was swooping back down to capture your lips once again. In fact, your only real solution was the fact that even in between kisses that were undeniably wet and sloppy and needy, he still felt the need to utter words of praise about you. Words about your beauty. Words about your taste. Words about his adoration- his devotion to you. Over and over and over again in that same little hushed tone of his. 

You laughed the first time you heard him do it. After all, who makes haiku about the girl they’re kissing right in the middle of said kiss? Certainly not anyone you knew. At least, no one from Liyue. But now? It only made you love him more than you ever thought possible.  

That’s why it wasn’t surprising when you realized you had completely lost track of time. Being with him does that to you. And when your only tells are just how messy the bed and your clothes and your hair have gotten, it’s hard to judge if the two of you have actually been here for long enough for anyone to notice or if you’ve both just been practically handsy this time around. 

And unfortunately…you’re not sure of the answer to that by the time you hear the knock sounding at Kazuha’s door. 

“Please don’t answer,” You whisper to him, your lips just barely brushing against his as you speak. Kazuha’s eyes are barely focused at the moment. He seems to be stuck- staring down at you with a blissful expression on his face. You wonder if he’s still captured in the same daze that you were in just a couple seconds ago. “Just let them go away…let them think you’re not here.”

At that, Kazuha nods, but you’re not quite sure he hears you. For good measure, you lean up and give him a quick peck on his lips. Something short. Something sweet. Something that can act as a wake-up call even. Unfortunately for you, it ends up working a little too well. Because right as go in for the peck, he’s back to pressing his lips against yours as a low, quiet moan bubbles up from the back of his throat.

Knock, knock, knock.

The two of you are almost immediately interrupted by another knock, this one more pressing than before. Luckily enough, it seems to snap Kazuha out of it. Because a second later, he leaning far- far back away from you and being very, very still and quiet as he looks to the door. You spend the time counting the seconds that pass in your head, waiting for the figure who is currently lingering just outside the door to pass. You imagine Kazuha is spending his time doing the same as he narrows his eyes at the intruder hidden behind the wood. 

You suppose he doesn’t really appreciate being interrupted. At least, interrupted by people who aren’t you.

But as the seconds stretch into minutes, you both start to come to the realization that whoever is out there already knows someone is in here. Maybe they saw you both. Maybe they heard you both. Or maybe they’re just sure that you both- or at least one of you is inside right now.

Kazuha peaks at you from the corner of his eye, waiting for you to finish going over the options in your head before he makes his next move. You couldn’t really tell who it was just by the knocking, but judging by the shadows you’re able to see peeking out from just below the door, it’s clearly someone who has time to wait around. Odds are, it could be someone who’s good at keeping secrets- especially minor ones that do nothing but save you the inevitable embarrassment you’ll have to face when you end up giving your sister a pocket full of mora. But even bigger odds tell you that it’s someone who is more than willing to rat you out to big sister Beidou because the loyalties of the crew are always gonna be with her and not you.

But then again…you could always try buying someone’s silence. It’d be less embarrassing than paying your sister back. And it’ll at least be a bit cheaper than-

“You in there Kazuha?”

The moment you hear your sister’s voice, all hope you had vanished all at once. You toss your head back on the mattress and mutter a curse under your breath as Kazuha slips you with an amused smile. You just shoot him and glare, close your eyes, and turn over on your side- facing away from him. He chuckles in response, but for a second, you hear soft footsteps heading in the direction of the door. He’s merciful enough that he doesn’t open the door and let your sister in- let alone look inside. Instead, he just stands a little closer and finally responds to the very last person you would like to see right now.

“I am,” He calls back to your sister in a light, conversational tone as you begin trying to recall where you last left your wallet. You don’t exactly need to carry money when most of your days are spent on the Alcor. But it’s still a damn shame to have to spend some of your own cash. Especially all because of some stupid bet about some stupidly cute boy. “Is there something you need?”

“Just wanted to let you know we’ll be docking soon,” Beidou informs him from the other side of the wood, her voice a little muffled. But as you process her words, you start to perk up. Just a little bit, at least. Maybe she doesn’t know you’re here? It’s possible. The two of you have been careful all this time. You might have been a teensy bit more forward than you usually are today. But perhaps there’s still a chance?  Perhaps there’s still a chance to hold onto this secret just a little bit longer. “Come up whenever you’re ready.”

At this point, you can only hold onto hope. So you do. You really, really do.

“I see,”  Kazuha responds as you quietly sit back up on the bed and face his direction. He’s nodding his head absently at her words, and you want to point out the fact that only you can see him do that right now. Instead, you opt for silence, hoping that if you hold your breath and count the second once more, Beidou will end this conversation with Kazuha and disappear before she even thinks about going searching for you too. “Will do.”

“‘Course.” 

And just like that- and just exactly as you hoped- it happens. She ends the conversation with a final word of acknowledgment. She steps back from the door. You even hear her footsteps start to get a little softer as she begins to walk away. Could this be it? Could you really have slipped through the jaws of fate so easily? Could you have bested your sister and kept a secret on her ship? Are you really going to-

“Oh, and you better be gentle with my sister.” 

And just like that, the hope you once had is squeezed right out of you as the sound of your sister’s knowing laughter fills the hallway right outside the door. You collapse back onto Kazuha’s bed with a loud, dramatic huff. One that makes your sister laugh even louder and harder as your very new and very confused lover looks between you and the door that separates the both of you from your sister at the moment. 

You suppose this was bound to happen eventually. And you suppose you’re going to have to explain things to Kazuha too, as doesn’t seem to be getting any luck with getting your sister to stop laughing long enough to let him in on the joke. 

But really? Right now? All you wanna do is go back to laying in bed and making out with your boyfriend. Stealing kisses like they’re oxygen. Listening to him speak your name over and over again like it’s poetry. And forgetting everyone else- forgetting the whole entire world exists. Just you and Kazuha. Kazuha and you. And the little world that exists between the two of you. That’s what you want right now. That’s what you want more than anything right now. But realistically?

You’re going to have to find your wallet first. You know the mighty Captain Beidou won’t let you know peace until you do.