#also lol if anyone wants to help me out with the world building... i am listening

[giantkillerjack]

Me, an American, researching the fall of the Roman Republic and noticing some... parallels:

Image description: a gif from what looks like a 90s anime film, showing a woman leaning in to look at a computer and seeing that it is glitching and repeating itself. She looks at it wide-eyed in concern and fascination.

[kwanisms]

Sweet Temptations — p.seonghwa

» ateez masterlist | seonghwa masterlist «

➮ florist!Seonghwa × fem!Reader wc: 22.1k (sorry lmao) summary: Y/N favorite part of working at the Sweet Temptations Cafe is the view of the gorgeous flower shop across the street and the handsome and kind florist who comes in every morning at 7 am on the dot. genres/themes/au: smut; flower love language, strangers to lovers; non idol au, florist au, barista au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, flirty Seonghwa, also Seonghwa being a menace, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

join my taglist! MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: this is my submission for the @cultofdionysus Spring event, The Language of Flowers. I have no excuse for the word count lmao just enjoy it. I’m probably going to stick to posting longer oneshots because I enjoy world building. Thank you so much @cheolism for beta-reading this for me ꒰｡•◡•｡꒱ thank you to everyone who reads this and if you reblog it, just know I’m tucking you into bed and kissing ur forehead 😘 as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: male masturbation, corruption kink, unprotected sex (wrap that shit), oral (m receiving, f receiving), mild facefucking (f receiving), dirty talk, praise (f receiving), finger sucking, spitting, choking (f receiving), marking/biting (f receiving), semi public sex, rough sex, hair pulling (m receiving), mild breeding kink, use of pet names (baeknari/lily, petal, blossom, sweetheart, kitten, etc.), dom!Seonghwa, sub!Reader, and I think that’s it but I could have missed some lol

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Park Seonghwa was a simple man, known for three things: his love for coffee, his punctuality, and his affinity for flowers. 

It had never been his intention to open a flower shop but somehow it had happened. When he was a child, his father had loved gardening, as had his mother. From a young age Seonghwa had learned the language of flowers, particularly of those in his parents’ garden. Along with his exceedingly good looks, his knowledge of flowers ended up helping him score points with the girls in his class.

As a teenager, Seonghwa wanted to be an athlete, particularly in volleyball, having lost his love for flowers and their secret language. He'd intended to make that his career but after the untimely death of his grandmother, Seonghwa rediscovered a passion and love for flowers. He changed his major from sports to business administration and upon graduating with a degree, he set out to start a business.

Four years had passed since he opened his flower shop, The Flower Guy, and he was surprised by the overwhelmingly positive response from the town. Business had been booming ever since he opened his shop and it didn’t die down. He’d built up a steady clientele, from other businesses to wedding planners. 

He’d been able to turn it into his livelihood and couldn’t be happier with the decisions that led him to where he was now, even as he swept the floor of the shop, pushing the dirt into the waiting dustpan.

The sun was setting over the town square, basking the buildings in its dying golden glow. With a stretch and a sigh, Seonghwa checked the time on his watch before walking over, turning the lock on the door, and flipping off the switch for the open sign. He went back to his sweeping, brushing all the dirt and debris from the stone tile into the dustpan before picking it up and making his way to the back of his shop to deposit the dirt.

He checked the door leading to the narrow alley behind his shop, making sure the lock was secure — although if anyone did manage to break in, the most they would find were some flowers and maybe some gardening tools. Seonghwa was a smart man and always made sure to empty the register and do his accounting at the end of each day, taking everything home to put in his safe there. The safe in the shop was for show and only kept papers inside.

After putting away the broom and dustpan, he set to work mopping the tiles from the door to the back before putting the microfiber mop away. He then set to work, misting all the flowers in the back room. After he grabbed the till from the register, moving back to the office to start the process of closing up and counting the profits of the day.

You flipped the sign from opened to closed and let out a yawn. The square outside was almost deserted, only a few people still outside, enjoying the nice weather of the day. 

“Y/N, could you wipe down the tables and counter for me?” you heard from behind you and turned to find your manager, Addie, already starting to mop. 

Without a word, you headed through the shop, ducking behind the counter to grab a clean rag and the bucket of soapy disinfectant water. You grabbed a pair of gloves, pulling them on before heading out to start wiping the tables down and cleaning them up. You worked in silence, the soft piano tones of the overhead speakers playing on low volume.

The cafe wasn’t very big, and the tables weren’t exceptionally dirty, so it didn’t take you any longer than usual to wipe all of them down. You were wiping down the counter, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot of spilled coffee you must have missed earlier in the day when Addie returned, opening the drawer of the first register and starting to read the card slips, inputting any of the tips that hadn’t been put into the computer.

Once done, she pulled out the money and added it to the jar you kept on the counter by the register for tips before moving to the other register and repeating the process. It had just been the two of you working the front end and one person, Lin, in the kitchen. 

Wednesdays weren’t a particularly busy day for the cafe and the amount of work you had closing reflected that. Addie went to the back to do the daily accounting while you checked on Lin in the kitchen, offering them your help. Once you were both done, you announced your departure to Addie who wished you both a good night.

Outside, you said goodbye to your coworker and noticed the door of the flower shop opening. The florist was exiting, shutting the door behind him and locking it with his key which he returned to his pocket. He turned and froze, noticing you watching him.

“Good evening,” you said as he started forward again, closing the distance between you. 

“Evening, baeknari,” he said, a smile on his face as he reached you, matching your pace as you started to walk alongside him.

‘That nickname again,’ you thought to yourself, a smile threatening to spread across your lips.

You remembered when you’d asked him what it meant and he told you that in Korean it meant white lily. For some reason, him calling you ‘white lily’ made you giddy.

“Busy today?” you asked, keeping your hands tucked in your pockets.

“Not terribly,” he replied, his own hands tucked in his coat pockets. “Mainly just people coming to buy flowers for their partners. Got a couple events booked next week,” he added. 

“Do you book a lot of events?” you asked as the two of you walked towards the main street. 

“A fair few.Mostly birthdays and the odd anniversary,” he explained. “The floral arrangements for those are always easy.”

You smiled as you glanced up at him.

Ever since you’d first met Seonghwa, there was something about him that drew you to him. Maybe it was his passion for his craft, his sense of humor, or maybe his incredibly good looks. Regardless, you had been intrigued immediately and were interested in getting to know him on a more personal level.

You knew almost next to nothing about the man other than he liked banana nut muffins, caramel macchiatos with white chocolate sauce, and flowers. You could pick out other little facts based on your short interactions with him. He dressed like a model, wearing clothes that probably cost more than you were willing to spend. Then again, he could probably make anything he wore look expensive.

He also smelled amazing, like warm vanilla and cinnamon.

Not that you took to smelling him often. The scent just permeated the air around him; not in a way that had you coughing or gagging, though. He reeked of expensive taste and oozed a confidence and charisma that you could only dream of possessing.

“What are the hardest events?” you asked, looking up at him. The two of you stopped at the main thoroughfare and Seonghwa turned to look at you, fixing you with his dark brown eyes. He hesitated a moment before answering your question.

“Weddings,” he said honestly. “I love booking weddings because I can make a lot of money doing floral arrangements for an entire venue but there’s the…” he trailed off, glancing away and across the street. You took a step forward, not realizing it until he looked back down at you and was considerably closer.

That was the thing about Seonghwa, he had this innate ability to draw people into him, figuratively and literally. He was alluring and magnanimous. He always managed to invade your thoughts and made you want more of him, whether that be through conversation or something more intimate —

‘Get it together, Y/N. You’re in public!’

“The what?” you asked softly. Seonghwa chuckled lightly before answering.

“The brides,” he replied. Your brows knitted together, confusion taking over your features. 

“The brides?” you asked. “What’s wrong with the brides?” 

Seonghwa shook his head. “Nothing, inherently. It’s just some of them.”

You nodded, understanding instantly.

“Ah,” you replied, fighting the urge to smirk. “Bridezillas.”

He nodded, eyes scanning your face as you glanced at a passing couple with a dog, a smile crossing your face. One of your favorite things about this town was all the dog owners. You loved dogs.

‘Distracted much?’

You turned back to Seonghwa. “Yeah,” he finally said. “The bridezillas.”

You opened your mouth to respond but was cut short by the shrill sound of a ringing phone. Seonghwa sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, holding up a finger. “Hold that thought,” he said, fishing his phone from his pocket, and checked the screen.

Whoever was on the other end he must not have wanted to talk to, because he groaned and rolled his eyes yet again. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly, looking up at you. “I have to take this and if I know this person, they’re going to talk and talk and talk. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded as he started to back away, his phone still ringing. “Have a good night!” you called as he answered the phone. 

“You, too!” he said before turning away and starting to walk in the direction of his home, leaving you to turn and walk the opposite direction.

“This had better be good, Joong,” Seonghwa snapped. “I was in the middle of a conversation with —”

“With Cafe Girl?”

Seonghwa sighed, coming to a halt and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“Yes. And for the last time, her name is Y/N.”

Hongjoong chuckled on the other end. “Yeah, her. Have you asked her out yet?”

Seonghwa continued walking, switching his phone to the other side. “No,” he answered. “Not yet.”

Hongjoong booed him and Seonghwa clenched his jaw as he walked through the few pedestrians on the sidewalk, making his way to his apartment. “You’re never gonna get in her bed if you don’t ask her out.” 

Seonghwa could have strangled his friend.

“Is there a point to your call?” Seonghwa asked as he approached the door to his building.

“Oh, right! I have this thing,” Hongjoong started. “An event.” 

Seonghwa snorted as he typed the code in to get into his building. “You have an event?” he asked incredulously as he walked across the lobby, nodding at one of his neighbors picking up their mail as he stopped by his mailbox to retrieve his.

“Yes,” Hongjoong said, sounding indignant. “I have an event and I was wonder—”

“Let me guess,” Seonghwa said as he pressed the button for the elevator. “You want me to do floral arrangements?” 

He heard Hongjoong scoff over the phone. “No, I was gonna ask you to attend, smartass.” 

Seonghwa got off at his floor and made his way to his door, bowing politely to his neighbor as he passed.

“When is it?” Seonghwa asked as he reached his door, fishing out his keys and unlocking the door.

Once inside, he kicked his shoes off and walked over to deposit his mail on the kitchen counter.

“Next month, the 30th.” 

Seonghwa told him to hold, pulling his phone away from his ear to check his calendar.

“I should be free,” he said. “Send me the details,” he added as he started to go through his mail.

“Awesome. And actually, on second thought, could you perhaps make me something pretty to display?”

Seonghwa chuckled, shaking his head. “Goodbye Joong,” he said, hanging up before his best friend could say anything else.

“The nerve of that guy,” he whispered as he set his phone down. “To expect me to make him shit for free.”

Of course, Seonghwa would make something nice for Hongjoong and he would definitely be doing it for free.

Free food and alcohol that is.

——————————————————

‘Well, shit.’

Seonghwa stared at the long line from outside the cafe and sighed, reluctantly pulling open the door and stepping, holding the door for two people who were leaving. He glanced over the heads of the patrons before him to find you working diligently to take orders with another cashier and even hopping on to help fulfill orders, making lattes and wrapping up scones, muffins, and other pastries all with a smile on your face.

One of his favorite things about you. You never complained, at least not in front of the customers. You never let them see how overwhelmed or stressed you were. You always had a smile on your face, working fast to make sure everyone’s orders came out in a timely manner. 

You handed over a bag full of pastries, giving the customer in front of you another radiant smile before they stepped aside to wait for their coffee and you were able to take the next order. Seonghwa couldn’t help but watch you work. He always had a habit of watching you when he came in.

He hated how creepy that made him sound but he was just so fascinated with how well you seemed to work under pressure and how well you kept it together when a customer was screaming in your face. You were always so polite and so sweet and Seonghwa knew he wasn’t the only one who noticed you.

There were always a plethora of men who flirted with you, asking for your number, asking what time you got off work. And always you turned them down gently and sent them on their way; every single guy got the same treatment.

Well, every guy except for Seonghwa. He noticed that when the other guys flirted, you smiled and steered the conversation back to their order, yet when Seonghwa did the exact same thing, flirting with you as if you hadn’t heard every pick up line in the book, you never once turned him down. 

In fact, if Seonghwa was remembering correctly, you often flirted back with him, smile widening into a genuine one before you looked down at the counter and either busied yourself with a marker or your apron, something you often did when you were flustered.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but with him, you always flirted back and it drove Seonghwa increasingly mad. Especially when your smiles turned shy, you shifted nervously, or pretended to be busy, all tell tale signs you were shy or flustered. 

Seonghwa remembered the first day you started working here, having been a regular customer for several years. He’d seen several guys flirt with you before he approached the counter and made a joke about them, which made you genuinely laugh. That was the exact moment he knew you were going to plague his every thought. 

That laugh, the way you threw your head back, the genuine joy and amusement on your face and the cute stickers you added to his cup sent the signal that you just might be interested in him and so every day for the last two years, he’s been coming to this cafe.

Not for the coffee, not for the pastries, but to see your beautiful face. Hopefully make you smile or laugh, and when he did, it gave him enough fuel to get through the day, more than the coffee or the muffins you sold him every morning.

Seonghwa was only a few paces from the counter when you noticed him. You had been making a latte when you glanced over and noticed him, a shy smile gracing your lips before you went back to work so as to not spill any of the boiling hot coffee on your hands.

The next customer went, ordering what seemed to be the entire left side of the menu; thankfully the person before Seonghwa ordered a simple black coffee and a sugar-free blueberry muffin; then it was his turn. You wiped down the counter and smiled at him which soon turned apologetic.

“I’m so sorry,” you started softly. Seonghwa’s stomach sank and he wondered what you could possibly need to apologize to him for. “We ran out of your usual muffin,” you explained and Seonghwa smiled, his stomach settling back where it was supposed to be. No banana nut muffins? No problem.

“Oh that’s alright,” he said, glancing at the menu quickly. “Just the usual coffee and I’ll try a lemon poppyseed muffin instead,” he ordered, pulling his wallet out as you punched his order in and pressing the card reader option on the terminal.

“Sorry it’s so busy,” you added in an undertone. Seonghwa tapped his card against the reader until it beeped and put his card away in his wallet, placing it back in his pocket. 

“And take your time,” he added. “I’m not in any rush.” You smiled and mouthed ‘thank you’ before turning to start making his coffee.

It wasn’t like anyone else couldn’t make his coffee, but he preferred it when you did and knew you preferred it, too. You often drew little doodles or added stickers and left encouraging messages on his cup sleeve — which he totally didn’t keep when he needed a mood pick up during the long hours at the shop.

He waited patiently off to the side, checking his phone. He wished he could get your number one of these days but he really had no way of asking, considering he knew you’d never be able to give your number to a customer while you were working. That had to be against a bunch of rules.

But he could leave his number with you, right? God, he was stupid. Why hadn’t he thought of that before?

Seonghwa approached the counter to speak to your co-worker. “Hi,” he said softly. “Do you have a post-it note and a pen I could borrow?” he asked. The college-aged student nodded, grabbing a stack of yellow post-its and a pen, handing them off to Seonghwa. He took them with a thanks, scribbling down his number and name.

You moved from the coffee maker and slid open the cold case to grab his muffin with a deli paper. You placed it into a paper sack and grabbed the coffee cup, moving to the pick up area where Seonghwa was waiting. “One caramel macchiato with white chocolate sauce and a lemon poppyseed muffin,” you said with a smile as you placed his order on the counter and pushed it towards him.

Seonghwa leaned forward, thanking you and pressing the folded yellow post-it into your hand before grabbing his coffee and muffin, giving you a wink, and making his way to the door. He didn’t stop to see if you opened the note. He would find out later if you took him up on his offer.

As he reached the door to his shop, fishing his keys out to unlock the door and let himself in, he felt his pocket vibrate in his pocket and chuckled to himself. “That was fast,” he whispered as he shut the door and turned the lock, moving through the front room and into the office.

He set his coffee and muffin down, reached into his coat pocket and pulled his phone out, expecting to see an unknown number but instead saw a text from Hongjoong.

Joongie: what was that shit we got when we were in the city last month? The wine. The red one Seonghwa rolled his eyes before typing in a quick response. Seonghwa: the red wine we got at dinner from that one restaurant? It was Roscato – Rosso Dolce. Joongie: ur a life saver! (: thank u! Seonghwa: is this to impress a girl? Joongie: I’ll never tell ;)

Seonghwa rolled his eyes and locked the screen of his phone, setting it down on the desk and removing his coat to hang up. He sat down and opened his bag to pull out the muffin and took a nibble. It wasn’t bad. The banana nut ones were his favorite but this would do.

He grabbed the coffee cup and smiled at the words and doodles on the page as well as a couple stickers. ‘She must have done this when I wasn’t looking,’ he told himself, smiling at the little notes you left on his coffee sleeve. Another one for his collection.

The rush had finally ended and you could take your break. You grabbed a simple iced coffee and a muffin, moving to the back to sit at the break table and pulled the yellow note from your apron. You unfolded it and read on the note.

You smiled, gently nibbling on your bottom lip as you slipped your phone out of your pocket and opened your texting app, entering his digits into your phone and sending a quick text.

Y/N: hey. it’s Y/N (: I’d love to get dinner with you. Just say the time and place

You continued to pick and nibble on your muffin, scrolling on your phone as you ticked away the minutes of your break. You decided to send one more text to let Seonghwa know you were heading back to work and would be unavailable until after your shift was over.

Once it sent, you pocketed the device and went back to work, trying desperately not to think about the phone in your apron pocket that vibrated every so often and what that notification might be. 

The rest of your shift was uneventful as you took orders from the few stragglers that came in, others coming in to take up residence at a table and work on either work or school work while sipping on their coffee and taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.

“Could you take these back to the kitchen to be washed,” Addie asked softly, pulling you out of your stupor as you stood doodling mindlessly on a notepad you kept at the register. You set the pen down and stood up, taking the carafes from her and heading for the doorway into the kitchen where Lin was currently washing dishes. 

“Need any help back here?” you asked, hopefully but they shook their head. 

“Nah,” Lin answered. “I got it. But thank you,” they added.

You turned away and headed back up front, sighing heavily as you returned to your spot. You glanced up at the clock. Time seemed to be ticking slowly, minute by minute. Inching by like a snail on a garden wall. Slow and steady wins the race but what race? Race of being bored to death?

‘Okay, Y/N, stop being dramatic.’

“Addie,” you murmured, chin resting in your hand as you looked around at the mostly empty cafe. “I’m dying of boredom here,” you announced before turning to face her. “Please tell me you have something for me to do,” you said, almost pleadingly. Addie chuckled and nodded towards the dining area. 

“If you’re desperate for something to do, you can wipe down the empty tables,” she answered and you smiled, ducking down to grab the small bucket of soapy sanitizer water and a clean rag, before standing up and making your way out from behind the counter.

Cleaning the tables was something to keep your body occupied but unfortunately it didn’t do much for keeping your mind occupied. Every once in a while, you threw glances towards the windows that looked out into the town square where you could see the front of the flower shop. 

You pulled your phone out and snuck a glance at the screen but there were no notifications beyond your  discord group chats with friends. ‘He must be really busy,’ you thought to yourself as you tucked your phone away and went back to wiping down the tables.

Every time a table cleared, you were quick to wipe it down, brushing any debris onto the floor to sweep up later with the broom.

When the last of the customers cleared out and Addie shut the door, locking it and flipping the open sign over to the side that read ‘closed,’ you were beyond excited to get out of the cafe and go home. 

Grabbing the broom, you started from the back, sweeping around the cafe, making little piles of dirt, trash, and other debris to come by and pick up with the dustpan later. Lin finished the dishes in the back and was restocking the small fridges under the counter while Addie was preparing things for the following day.

Once your small mounds of dust and trash had been swept up, you made your way to the back to fill the mop bucket and grab the mop. Taking it back to the front, you worked from the far side of the shop towards the counter while Lin returned to the kitchen to clean the back.

By the time both you and Lin had finished mopping and drying key areas of the floor, Addie had finished counting the tills and was in the office, doing the final accounting duties of the day.

“We’re finished, Addie,” Lin said as you both peered into the office. 

“All right,” she replied. “I’ll see you two tomorrow?” 

You nodded, waving and then made your way to the front door, Lin not far behind.

“Do you want to grab an early dinner?” Lin asked as they pulled their beanie on, the ends of their hair multicolored flipping up. You smiled and shook your head. 

“No, but thank you,” you replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow!” you announced as you turned to walk in the direction of your home, Lin heading the opposite way.

As you passed, you glanced over at the floral shop to see the lights inside were still on from what you could see; the open sign had also been flipped to show it was now closed. You hadn’t seen anyone go in or out of the shop since Seonghwa entered it this morning and you wondered if it was normally closed on certain weekdays and you just hadn’t noticed before.

You were half tempted to stop by, knock on the door and tell Seonghwa in person that you were interested in going on that date, but you’d have to just trust he would get your texts. You didn’t want to come off as desperate but something inside you told you Seonghwa wouldn’t mind even if you did.

Still, you would wait for his response.

Seonghwa looked up from sweeping to notice the cafe had already flipped its open sign. He could see your figure in the distance walking away from the shop and he watched as you walked away, resisting the urge to exit his own shop and stop you. He’d just wait until he got home to check his messages. 

He hadn’t been able to look at his phone since that morning when Hongjoong texted him. He had orders to fill for school dances and other events. It was also pruning day so he really couldn’t have his phone on him with how much work he had to do.

He turned away as your form disappeared from his line of sight and continued sweeping. His hands tightened around the broomstick, the frequency of his sweeping motion increasing as he remembered the way your eyes looked up at him in curiosity when he handed you the note and it made his mind run wild.

‘No. Stop it.’

He shook his head and tried to go back to the task at hand but it wasn’t long until his mind wandered, imagining how you’d look bending over to sweep the cafe and again he had to take a deep breath and force his mind elsewhere. It was getting ridiculous, the way his thoughts ran wild when you were on the forefront of his mind.

He was no stranger to fantasies but this was beyond fantasizing at this point. He couldn’t help but think about you doing the most mundane tasks before his imagination got away from him and he was imagining bending you over his kitchen counter, or laying you back on the counter of the cafe as he buried his head between your thighs —

“Stop it!” he shouted, throwing the broom to the floor with a clatter as he ran his fingers through his hair, eyes screwed shut as he regulated his breathing, shoulders rising and falling as he failed to gain control of his own thoughts and emotions.

His constant fantasizing made him feel like some sort of crazed sexual deviant and he often wondered if maybe he just needed to get laid and the thoughts might go away. Unfortunately for him, the only person he wanted was the source of his anguish, the subject of all his fantasies and thoughts.

Seonghwa grumbled to himself, bending over to pick up the broom and resume sweeping. He needed to get it done fast so he could go home to find some relief.

Once the shop was clean and locked up tightly, Seonghwa left out the front door, the bell ringing as he opened the door and shut it. Once he locked it, he began making his way across the square in the same direction you had initially gone, only to eventually turn right and head for his own apartment.

It wasn’t much, an old brick building that was once a high school before the new one was built and the old one turned into apartments. It was the first place Seonghwa looked when he was moving to this town and found a one bedroom apartment with a den. He’d lived there ever since, turning the clean slate into a home.

The bedroom Seonghwa had turned into an office and opted to sleep in the den where there were no windows. He had this thing about light; he couldn’t sleep if any lights were on, even if they came from outside. The den had no window, and so he didn’t need to buy blackout curtains. The doors to the den were double sliding doors that met in the middle and with the twist of a knob, locked together. It wasn’t as sturdy as a bedroom door, but it did the job.

Seonghwa unlocked the door, letting himself into the apartment where he shut and locked the door. He then leaned against it, letting out a sigh that morphed into a groan. He took off his shoes, setting them by the shoe rack, and removed his coat, hanging it up in the closet by the front door.

He set his mail on the counter and started going through it, sorting the important stuff from the junk.

Once that was done, he checked the time and sighed before picking up his phone and scrolling through the options for delivery. Once he settled on something, he placed his order and went about his business until there was a buzz at the intercom.

The restaurant must not have been busy because his food arrived promptly and he buzzed the driver up, paying him and giving a generous tip before closing the door and settling down with his meal and a show for background noise.

His thoughts shifted to you and what you might be having for dinner. Were you eating alone? Were you watching TV? Had you gone on a date? That last thought almost soured his mood but he forced the thought from his mind and dug his phone out of his pocket.

He had a handful of texts from an unknown number and opened the messages. 

xxx-xxxx-xxxx: hey. it’s Y/N (: I’d love to get dinner with you. Just say the time and place xxx-xxxx-xxxx: i was on my break but i have to go back now and won’t be able to check my phone  xxx-xxxx-xxxx: just let me know! xxx-xxxx-xxxx: hey i just got off and i’m heading home.  xxx-xxxx-xxxx: i’m still interested in getting dinner with you sometime

Seonghwa smiled to himself reading your texts before he promptly saved your number to his phone and shot you a few texts back.

Seonghwa: hey sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I just sat down to eat dinner. It was a busy day at the shop Seonghwa: if you’re still interested, i’d love to get dinner some time this week Seonghwa: does this Saturday work for you?

He set his phone aside and resumed eating only for his screen to light up with a new text from you. ‘She responded so fast?’ he thought. ‘Is she eager?’ Or perhaps, like him, she was desperate. Not that he would judge. He would never think of you in a bad way. He knew he was desperate, maybe even pathetic at times, but you? Not you. You were nothing like him.

Y/N: saturday sounds perfect (: what time?

He typed a quick response, trying not to get overly excited by the fact that you wanted to see him too. ‘It’s not that serious,’ he told himself. ‘Down boy.’

Seonghwa: how about 7? I know this Italian place not far from my apartment

He held his phone in his hand, food all but forgotten as he waited for your response which came just as quickly as it had before.

Y/N: sounds perfect! Send me the address and I’ll meet you there

Seonghwa smiled to himself as he typed in the restaurant name and address for you to save before he set his phone down and looked at his forgotten meal, cursing silently as he picked up his utensil and continued eating.

He had a date with you on Saturday at seven pm and he was going to need to be on his best behavior.

After eating, he cleaned up and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. Since the sweeping incident, he hadn’t been able to calm down and decided it would be best if he just relieved himself in the shower.

It had come down to this plenty of times before, fantasizing about you while he was at work only to have to come home and jerk off so he could settle down and go to sleep. It was like second nature at this point. He had a few fantasies he could relive in moments like these, letting out a sigh as the hot water beat down on him, running down his body as he stood under the stream.

He pushed his hair out of his face, keeping his eyes shut as he let his hands rest on the back of his neck. Taking a deep breath, he let one of his hands wander, sliding down his chest, moving slowly further and further down until the tips of his fingers brushed over his pubic region, stopping to take a deep breath.

Behind his eyelids, he imagined your face, your sweet smile when he would flirt with you, the way you looked away clearly flustered by his attention. The images in his mind shifted to you standing in his kitchen; it wasn’t entirely uncommon for his fantasies to start off with doing something domestic like cooking.

He let out a sigh as his fingers wrapped around the base of his cock. In his mind, he had you bent over the counter, panties around your ankles as he guided the tip of his cock to your soaking entrance. 

Slowly Seonghwa’s hand moved, stroking himself as he imagined it was your cunt instead that was cripping him tightly. He could almost hear your whimpers as he imagined he was thrusting into your warm, velvety walls instead of into his fist.

“Fuck,” he hissed, chest rising and falling with labored breaths as he continued to stroke himself, squeezing the base of his cock like he imagined your cunt would as you started to spasm around him. A few more strokes and he let out a stifled moan as he came, ropes of white hitting the shower tile. 

He took a few moments to regain his composure before spraying down the tiles, washing away the shame of fantasizing about you. He always felt guilty following this sessions in the shower or in his bed as he imagined fucking you or your mouth but the shame would ebb away and the desire to have you, to corrupt you, would return in full force.

As he continued with the routine of his shower, he wondered what you looked like when you came. Did your eyes roll back as your lips parted in a silent moan?

Did you cry out, tears in the corner of your eyes as you came? He wanted nothing more than to find out, but he had to remind himself to take it slow. He didn’t want to scare you.

‘Baby steps.’

Once he was cleaned, dried, and dressed in his pajamas, Seonghwa entered the den, shutting the doors behind him and moving to set his phone on the wireless charger. He noticed he had another text from you.

Y/N: goodnight Seonghwa (:

He smiled as he sent a text back before putting his phone on Do Not Disturb and set it on the charger. He turned off the light and got into bed, thankfully drifting off to sleep quickly.

As quickly as sleep came, the dreams followed and the next morning, Seonghwa woke up with a raging hard-on and a new fantasy involving the cute barista from his favorite cafe.

After taking a quick shower to relieve himself, Seonghwa got dressed and headed out of the apartment, making his way down the stairs when he checked his pocket to find he was missing his phone. “Damn it,” he cursed softly and headed back up, letting himself into his apartment and grabbing his phone from where he left it in his room.

He checked the screen to see if it was charged and found a few message notifications. He opened the device and smiled as he read the texts from you.

Y/N: good morning Seonghwa Y/N: i hope you slept well! (: Y/N: i can’t wait to see you in the cafe this morning

Seonghwa chuckled, pocketing the phone and headed back out to start making his way to the town square. The whole walk there, he contemplated going to another cafe but felt that might be a little mean. Maybe he just wanted you to long for his presence the way he longed for yours.

The scene in the cafe was the opposite of the previous morning and you were currently camped out by the register, ringing up an order for a small elderly woman. When she paid and stepped aside it was Seonghwa’s turn and he was instantly glad he decided not to visit another cafe.

The smile that spread across your lips and reached to your eyes was even more radiant than any smile he’d seen before. “Good morning,” you said breathlessly and Seonghwa knew it the way you said it was more than a standard employee greeting a customer.

There was a sparkle in your eyes he’d never seen before. Almost a yearning, like you were excited to see him. ‘Cute,’ he told himself as he glanced up at the menu. As if he even needed to. 

“The usual?” you asked before he could start order and he smiled at your eagerness to serve him.

Before he could stop it, his mind wandered and he wondered if you were this eager to please in other areas. ‘Don’t do this. Not right now,’ he told himself. He swallowed thickly and nodded. “Yes please,” he replied, feeling relieved when you looked down to punch in his order.

You told him his total, pressing the button for the card reader yet again, same routine as the day before and he paid by tapping his card against the reader. Once it beeped, you printed off the receipt and set it on a stack after he refused it. You opened the case to get his muffin, a banana nut one, from the second shelf, put it in a paper bag, and handed it to him before getting started on his coffee.

Seonghwa normally busied himself with his phone while you worked but this time, he didn’t look away. Instead he allowed his eyes to wander, taking in your backside. He was eternally grateful the cafe didn’t force you to wear some ugly uniform. 

You wore a knee length cream colored dress with a white lace trim peeking out from under the hem. The dress was fitted at the waist, showing off your curves as you worked. The sleeves were short and there was a collared v-neck. The dark brown apron you wore complimented the dress, offering some contrast.

Seonghwa didn’t often take in what you were wearing, but the dress was really pretty on you. He wondered if you always wore clothes like this to work or if you had dressed up for him.

You finished his coffee, placing a lid on it and then sliding the cup into a sleeve before picking up a marker and starting to write on it. He saw you sneak a couple of stickers onto the sleeve before walking over to the pick up counter and set his coffee down. 

“One caramel macchiato with white chocolate sauce,” you said softly, almost shyly as he stepped forward to take it. 

“Thank you,” he said softly and smiled as you adjusted the ties of your apron that most certainly didn’t need adjusting. “See you later,” Seonghwa said softly, sending you a wink and making his way towards the door, pushing it open with his back and stepping out into the square.

You sighed and watched Seonghwa walk out of the door, crossing the square to the floral shop and watched as he opened the door. “What are you looking at?” Lin asked in your ear and you flinched, turning your gaze away from the windows, grabbing a towel and starting to wipe the counters.

“N-nothing,” you stammered but Lin already saw everything. 

“Isn’t that the florist?” they asked. You shrugged, falling silent as you scrubbed at a stubborn spot on the counter. 

“He’s pretty handsome,” Lin added as you pretended to be busy.

“Who’s pretty handsome?” a voice asked and you both turned to see Addie standing by the espresso machine, arms crossed as she leaned against the counter. “The florist,” Lin answered before you could stop them. Addie raised an eyebrow, glancing out the cafe windows over at the flower shop before looking back at you.

“What about him?”

“Y/N was sighing and watching him walk away,” Lin said, smirking at you as your cheeks burned and you looked away. 

“Sighing?” Addie asked, glancing at you. “Oh no, is Y/N in love?” she asked, a slight teasing tone in her voice. 

You rolled your eyes, setting the rag under the counter and started to walk away.

“I hate you guys,” you muttered, but you in fact did not hate them. A fact they were well aware of.

Throughout your shift, you sent texts to Seonghwa and he replied when he could. You could see people going in and out of the shop all day, some leaving with large bouquets and others with small ones or single flowers. Business was clearly booming, or was it blooming?

While you were waiting for your shift to end, you decided to pull up the restaurant Seonghwa had suggested, something you should have done yesterday when he first brought it up but it slipped your mind. He had mentioned it was an Italian place and the menu looked good.

As the day wore on, you were getting more and more excited for your date with the handsome florist.

Saturday, for you, could not come fast enough.

——————————————————

For Seonghwa, Saturday came much too fast and he wasn’t sure if he could handle it. The fantasies starring you had increased in frequency and he was finding it harder (no pun intended) to not pop a boner at the mere thought of you. He needed to learn to control himself. 

He stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the cuff of his black shirt as he looked over his appearance, seeing if anything was out of place. He took a deep breath and gave his reflection a nod before moving to grab his coat, sliding it on. From the counter, he retrieved his keys, wallet, and phone, pocketing the items as he walked over to the door, slipping on his shoes, and let himself out into the hall.

The ride in the small old elevator down to the main floor took a few minutes from his apartment on the top floor and soon he was walking through the empty lobby, footsteps echoing against the walls as he crossed the tile floor to the front door.

The walk to the restaurant wasn’t a long one and he hoped it wasn’t too far for you either. He didn’t know exactly where you lived, he just knew you always turned left at the main road when walking home and he always went right.

The restaurant had opened up recently in a newly renovated building of connected shops. Seonghwa had seen it in passing a couple times and now that the opportunity to go on a date had presented itself, he figured it would be the perfect time to check it out, and who better to experience it with than the person who occupied almost all his thoughts.

Seonghwa arrived after a brisk walk, pulling the door open and then holding it for two people exiting. He stepped inside, approaching the host stand where a young woman with shoulder length brown hair wearing a plain black tee, black slacks stood.

She smiled up at him as he approached.

“Hi, just one?” she asked, grabbing a menu. 

“Uh, two actually. I have a reservation,” Seonghwa answered. 

She smiled, setting the menu down and opening the book. “Name?” she asked, picking up a black pen and scanning the sheet.

“Park,” he answered, waiting for her to find his name. 

“You’re a little early,” she noted, checking the time. “I can mark you down and when your table opens up, I can send you a text,” she offered, looking up. 

“I think I’ll just sit at the bar,” he said, watching as he scribbled something down on the page. 

“Alright,” she said, smiling as she clicked the pen. “I’ll let you know when a table opens up.”

Seonghwa thanked her and made his way over to the bar, catching the bartender’s attention as he took a seat. The bartender, a man who seemed to be around his age, set a napkin in front of him. “What can I get you?” he asked. Seonghwa glanced at the glass bottles that lined a shelf behind him.

“Could I get a whiskey, neat?” he asked, looking back at the bartender who nodded and turned to open the case with the chilled glasses. Seonghwa took the opportunity to shrug out of his coat and look around as he unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs.

He had expected the restaurant to have a more modern feel but instead of a clean and sterile environment, the textured wallpaper was a cream colored, contrasting with the dark warm wood floors and accents. The tables were all round, covered in white tablecloth. The larger tables were in the middle with white cushioned chairs to accommodate 6 people. Along the windowed walls were smaller tables for two to three people.

Seonghwa turned back as the bartender returned, setting his drink in front of him. Seonghwa thanked him and pulled his wallet out to pay but the bartender declined. “First one’s on the house,” he said with a smile and walked away to go about his duties.

Seonghwa picked up the glass, swirling the amber-colored liquid before raising the glass to his lips and tilting his head back. The burn of the alcohol brought him out of his own swirling thoughts and he let out a small sigh as he set the glass down and waited, hoping you were on your way.

You glanced at your reflection for what felt like the millionth time since putting on your dress.

You’d opted for a white fitted one, which was a bold choice given that you were going to an Italian restaurant. You had gone back and forth on what to wear, trying to decide between a black dress and the white one you were currently sporting.

You checked the time and cursed. If you wanted to get to the restaurant on time, you needed to leave now. Rushing through your apartment, you grabbed your small clutch, putting your wallet, phone, and lip gloss into it and heading for the door where you slipped into your heels, a simple black heel with red bottoms. They had been a gift from your parents upon finishing school and you saved them for special occasions.

Once your coat was on, you headed out of your apartment, locking the door and heading down the stairs and out the front door.

You made the short walk to the bus station, opting to take the bus since you were wearing heels. The restaurant was only down the road from your building but you’d rather not kill your feet and thankfully, the bus showed up only moments later.

You boarded, pulling out your transport card and scanning it before picking a seat behind the driver and keeping your eyes down. You didn’t often take the bus but when you did, you always felt like a million eyes were on you. Of course this wasn’t true, no one was even paying any attention to you.

You really needed to stop reading and listening to r/no sleep and r/lets not meet stories.

The ride to the restaurant was uneventful and as the bus pulled up to the nearest stop, you stood up, briefly adjusting the hem of your dress and thanking the driver before heading for the steps, descending them carefully until your feet met the pavement.

The stop wasn’t too far from the restaurant but you still needed to walk to make it there. You felt mildly subconscious about the people you passed, but you knew that was your anxiety speaking, assuming people were looking at you like you were some kind of main character in a story.

‘This isn’t wattpad, Y/N,’ you told yourself. ‘No one is even looking at you. Wait, no, that’s not true. That guy just looked.’

You offered a polite smile at the man you passed as he looked you up and down and you instantly regretted everything you’d ever done in your life. ‘Great, he probably thinks you’re some kind of streetwalker. Not that there’s anything wrong with prostitution—’

‘Oh shut up,’ another voice told you in the back of your mind.

You looked up as you approached the restaurant and opened the door, stepping into the warm, cozy setting, a low hum as people chatted at low volume over their meals, sharing wine, appetizers, and no doubt gossip. You looked around briefly, taking in the cream-colored wallpaper, dark warm wood floors, and round white cloth covered tables.

The hostess looked up at you, smiling. She was cute and short, her chocolate brown hair cut into a shoulder-length bob. She wore a black tee shirt with cap sleeves and black slacks. She smiled up at you as you pulled your phone out to check to see if Seonghwa had texted you.

“Can I help you?” the hostess asked, drawing your attention away from your screen that had no missed notifications. 

“I’m supposed to be meeting someone,” you explained as you moved closer to the host stand to allow people to pass you.

“Did you have a reservation?” the hostess asked. You noticed a black rectangular name tag with gold lettering that read her name was Jess. 

“Uh, I’m not sure, actually,” you said. “I have a date and he didn’t tell me if he made a reservation. Could I look around and see if he’s here already?” 

Jess smiled and nodded, returning her attention to the guest book in front of her as your eyes swept the room. It wasn’t large but it was certainly cozy. Three clear glass vases of different heights sat in the middle of each table with floating tealights. The overhead lighting was recessed into the ceiling and dimmed to create a more warm and inviting atmosphere.

Your eyes swept over the patrons until you reached the bar and your heart skipped a beat.

‘He’s here. He’s actually here.’

You noticed Seonghwa sitting at the bar, his jacket slung over the back of his stool as he nursed a class of what you could assume was whiskey based on the color. You turned to Jess. “I found him,” you announced softly. “He’s at the bar.”

Jess looked up and followed your line of sight before smiling. “Ahh, him,” she said, glancing at the guest book. “Your table should be ready in a few minutes,” she added, looking back up at you. 

“Thank you,” you said before making your way over to the bar, heart hammering in your chest with each stride.

Seonghwa had certainly dressed up, making you glad you had as well.  Most of the patrons in the restaurant had dressed up and you felt like you didn’t stand out too much. You cleared your throat as you stopped beside Seonghwa and he looked up.

His face lit up as he took in your form. “You made it,” he said as you set your bag on the bar and climbed up into the stool next to him. “What’re you drinking?” he asked. You glanced at the bar and took notice of all the alcohol bottles. 

“Oh it’s fine,” you finally said. “I don’t really drink,” you added.

Seonghwa smiled and nodded. “Well, if you’d like a non-alcoholic cocktail, order whatever you’d like,” he said as he lifted his glass, downing the rest of his drink. As he set the glass down and nodded to the bartender, you decided maybe one drink wouldn’t be so bad. 

If anything, it might help you loosen up. Your shoulders felt tense and you knew it was because you were nervous. You were here, at this upscale Italian restaurant, with quite possibly the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on. For some reason, he’d asked you out. 

“Actually,” you started as the bartender set a new drink in front of your date. Seonghwa looked up to meet your gaze.

“Maybe a glass of wine,” you suggested. Seonghwa looked up at the bartender. 

“What options do you have?” he asked. 

“Something red and semi-sweet,” you added. The bartender nodded and moved to get your glass. 

“You like semi-sweet reds?” Seonghwa asked, his lips pulled into an uneven smirk.

You nodded. “Yeah, I like a lot of dolce wines,” you admitted. “I don’t drink often, but when I do, it’s usually something like Roscato — rosso dolce,” you added. Seonghwa chuckled under his breath as he picked up his drink and took a sip. The bartender returned with your glass of wine and set it in front of you.

“Did I say something funny?” you asked, pulling the glass of wine closer. Seonghwa shook his head.

“No, not funny,” he explained. “It’s just a coincidence. A friend of mine asked me for the name of a wine we tried at a restaurant on my last trip to visit him and it was Roscato,” he continued, looking up to meet your gaze. “Rosso dolce,” he added.

Your lips parted and you let out a short, soft laugh. “Oh,” you replied as you raised your glass.

“That is a coincidence.”

An hour later, you were sitting at a small table in the corner by the last window, having shared some appetizer whose name you couldn’t pronounce and an empty bowl of spaghetti aglio e olio sitting before you as Seonghwa looked at the dessert menu. “Do you want to try the tiramisu?” Seonghwa asked as you took a sip of your third glass of wine.

“Do you want to share it?” you offered. 

Seonghwa glanced up at you, an amused look in his eye, like some unspoken joke that only he seemed to be privy to. “Sure,” he finally answered, looking back down at the menu and allowing you to breathe easier.

The server finally returned and Seonghwa asked for a tiramisu to split as you finished your glass.

“Would you like more wine, miss?” the server asked and you contemplated for a moment and then nodded. 

Before the server could walk away, Seonghwa stopped him. “Could you bring another glass and the rest of the bottle, please?” he asked. The server nodded and walked away to put in your order.

You stared at him as he took a sip of his water. “The whole bottle?” you asked, biting back the urge to laugh. 

Seonghwa shrugged. “I’m sure there’s only a couple more glasses left in that bottle anyway,” he said, the tone of his voice teasing.

“So,” you started, catching Seonghwa’s attention. “Flowers?” you asked.

He smiled, chuckling light as he shook his head.

“Don’t tell me you think it’s weird,” he said softly and your smile faded.

“What?” you asked softly. “No. I think it’s great actually.”

Seonghwa looked up to meet your gaze. “It’s refreshing to meet a guy who’s into flowers. Not a lot of guys know the difference between the meaning of a red rose and a yellow one,” you added, smiling when Seonghwa stifled a laugh.

“Have you had a guy buy you yellow roses?” he asked incredulously. You nodded and he went into another fit of giggles. “Yellow roses… my god.”

When his laughter had subsided, he cleared his throat. “I’ve always loved flowers,” he explained.

“My parents loved gardening,” he continued. “It was a normal part of my childhood. I learned about caring for and growing flowers and the language of flowers at a young age. I’ve always been surrounded by gardening.”

You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm as he spoke, a smile on your lips.

“When I was a teenager, I actually wanted to be an athlete,” he added, absentmindedly playing with the rim of his empty whiskey glass. “I fell in love with volleyball and wanted to pursue it in college. I actually even started pursuing volleyball at the collegiate level,” he continued.

A smile crossed his face as he reminisced. “I met some of my best friends playing volleyball,” he added.

His smile fell slightly, no doubt a painful memory coming to the forefront of his mind.

“And then my grandmother died.”

Your smile fell and you felt your heart tug. You reached across the table with your free hand, placing it over his. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. Seonghwa smiled, moving his hand under yours to take your hand in his. 

“It’s been a long time,” he started. “But thank you.”

He held your hand as he continued his story.

“Her death made me rediscover a passion and appreciation for flowers,” he continued. “We had the most beautiful arrangements at her funeral. It made me think ‘I could do that. I could make floral arrangements.’ So, I did.”

“I went back to school, changed my major, and started taking flower arranging classes. I got my degree in business administration and started arranging flowers in my parents’ house until I had saved enough to purchase a store front.”

You watched him speak, a certain fondness in your heart as he talked so earnestly. “I also chose to move from the city and I found this place while looking, falling in love with the small town atmosphere. I love being able to walk to everything like I did in the city but there aren’t as many people here,” he added.

“I’ve been here and had my shop for four years now and I wouldn’t change a single thing about my life,” he finished, looking up at you with a smile on his face. 

You opened your mouth to respond but the server returned at that moment, setting a single slice of tiramisu down before he set down another wine glass and the opened bottle of wine. “Anything else I can get you?” he asked, looking between the two of you as Seonghwa lifted the bottle. 

“No, thank you,” Seonghwa answered, glancing at you as he started to pour some wine into the new glass with a wink.

The server took that as his cue to leave, allowing Seonghwa to sit up straight and pour wine into your glass. You thanked him and looked down at the dessert. “Have you ever had tiramisu?” Seonghwa asked as he picked up his fork. You shook your head.

“Well, I’ve had those store made ones, nothing like this though,” you replied, picking up your own dessert fork. 

“Ladies first,” Seonghwa said, gesturing to the cake. 

You glanced at it and back to him. “No, it’s okay, you can have the first bite,” you offered. Seonghwa chuckled lightly, taking his fork and slicing off a corner of the cake.

He brought it up and moved the fork towards you. “I insist,” he said softly. Your cheeks grew warm at the show of affection. You’d never been on a date where someone fed you and it felt exceedingly intimate.

And you liked it.

You parted your lips, allowing Seonghwa to guide the fork into your mouth. You’d had tiramisu before but this was unlike anything you’d had. It tasted like heaven. You swallowed, acutely aware of Seonghwa’s gaze on your face.

“It’s good,” you said softly. 

Seonghwa’s eyes darted down to your lips before he reached up with his free hand, thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “You had some cream,” he muttered, bringing his hand to his mouth and licking off the cream. The cream that had been on your lip.

You were suddenly overcome with the urge to smear cream all over your lips if it meant he would clean it off with his tongue.

‘Whoa,’ you thought to yourself as you took another bite of cake with your own fork. ‘Where did that come from?’ 

“Can I ask you something?” you said suddenly, looking up to meet Seonghwa’s curious gaze.

“Of course,” he said, licking his lips and taking a sip of his wine.

“Do you have a favorite flower?” you asked.

Seonghwa hesitated as he contemplated his answer before smiling, a soft chuckle escaping him.

“White lilies,” he answered. You felt your lips pull into a smile.

“White lilies?” you asked as you took another bite of the tiramisu. Seonghwa nodded, watching as you licked your lips. “Why?”

He set his fork down and leaned forward, resting his hand on his knuckles, fixing you with a knowing smirk only he seemed to be the only one in the know.

“I think white lilies are pretty. Lilies in general are very beautiful flowers. The splayed open petals, the way they curl back and the various colors. Tiger lilies are also very beautiful but there’s just something about the white ones,” he explained.

You took another bite. “What do white lilies mean,” you asked suddenly, looking up at him, “in the language of flowers?” 

Seonghwa fixed you with a peculiar look. His expression hardened slightly and you feared for a moment that you’d upset him but as quickly as his expression changed, it shifted again.

“Purity and chastity,” Seonghwa answered. Your cheeks grew warm under the gaze he was giving you. Something had snapped in him and the look he was giving you now was sending chills up your spine, a surge of arousal pulsing through your body and you had to physically force yourself to look away.

‘Purity and chastity, huh?’

Between the two of you, the cake vanished in no time and you polished off the bottle of wine not long after with small talk about the food, the setting, and work.

“So,” you said as you stepped out onto the sidewalk, Seonghwa following. You tied your coat closed and looked down the street towards the bus stop. “Wait,” you said, checking the time. ‘Oh. Oh no.’

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling your heart sink. 

“What?” Seonghwa asked. 

“I missed the last bus,” you said, mentally facepalming yourself for being so absentminded. 

“I could walk you,” Seonghwa offered. 

You smiled up at him. “It’s not that,” you explained, glancing down at your feet.

Seonghwa followed your line of sight and noticed the shoes. “Oh,” he said softly before looking around.

“Well, we could walk,” he suggested as he slipped his hands into his coat pocket. “And if your feet start to hurt, I could always carry you,” he added with a smile. You let out a laugh and looked down the street towards your place.

“Okay,” you said softly. Seonghwa offered his arm, keeping his hand in his pocket and you took the offer, slipping your hand between his arm and side and started to walk with him.

“I didn’t say it sooner,” he started as you walked, the sounds behind you starting to die down as you walked away from the line of shops. “But you look gorgeous.” 

Your cheeks started to heat up at his compliment and you nibbled on your bottom lip. “Thank you,” you said softly.

Silence fell over the two of you as you walked down the street, but it was a comfortable silence. You wondered what he was thinking and where things would go from here. Would he walk you to your door, kiss you goodnight? Would he want to come in? Did you want him to come in?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Seonghwa’s voice.

“How’re your feet doing?” he asked, his tone light.

You smiled, glancing up at him. “They’re okay,” you replied. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, slowing to a stop.

“I could still carry you.”

You laughed softly, lightly hitting his arm and continued walking. “Actually,” you said, stopping and letting go of his arm to lean down and carefully remove your shoes. “I’ll just go barefoot.”

Seonghwa chuckled as you collected your shoes and stood upright. Seonghwa held out his hand and your heart skipped a beat. “Let me carry them for you,” he said. You were about to protest but he took them anyway before offering his arm again.

You thanked him softly and the two of you continued walking. “Better?” he asked, looking down at you. You nodded, the cool pavement felt good against your feet that were starting to ache and burn from wearing the pumps. 

“Much,” you replied.

The walk didn’t take too long and soon, you were climbing the steps to your apartment building.

You turned to Seonghwa and smiled, taking back your shoes. “Thank you,” you said, carefully putting your shoes back on. Seonghwa smiled at you, hands tucked into his pockets. Silence filled the space between you before you spoke, apparently at the same time as Seonghwa.

“Do you want to come up?”

“I should probably get going.”

You felt your heart sink slightly. ‘Oh.’

“I’d love to,” Seonghwa started. “But I have a lot of stuff to get done tomorrow.”

You nodded, watching as his eyes dipped to look at your lips and back up. ‘Yes. Please just kiss me.’

You started to lean in only for Seonghwa to clear his throat. “I’ll wait for you to go in.”

‘...what?’

“O-okay,” you said softly, turning to put the code to your building in. Once the door was opened, you turned to Seonghwa. “Are you sure you don’t want to come up?” you asked softly. 

Seonghwa smiled. “Another time,” he said, and it sounded like a promise.

That seemed to calm your nerves, but you were still put off that he didn’t even want to kiss you goodnight. This was the first time a man hadn’t tried to get himself invited to your apartment.

“Well,” you hesitated. “Goodnight?”

Seonghwa nodded, a smile still on his lips. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You made your way inside and up the steps to your door, unlocking and letting yourself in. As you removed your coat and shoes, you felt as if in a daze. You walked over to the kitchen to get a glass of water, chugging half of it as you stared at the wall before turning to face the rest of your apartment, holding the half empty glass to your chest as the realization dawned on you.

“What the fuck?”

Seonghwa arrived home and immediately hopped into the shower to relieve the erection he’d been sporting for the last two hours since you walked into the restaurant. He wondered if you knew the effect you had on him. Had you worn the white, form fitting dress on purpose?

If so, why? It was like you were unknowingly torturing him.

The way the dress hugged your curves, the hem reaching to the middle of your thighs. The sweetheart neckline accentuating your bust, showing off your collar. Multiple times Seonghwa had fought the urge to drag you to the bathroom and bend you over the sink, eager to stuff you full of his painfully hard cock.

He let out a hiss, dropping his head as his hand moved over his cock quickly, imagining you kneeling in front of him in that white dress. “Fuck,” he cursed, his orgasm washing over him under the hot stream of water as he imagined releasing on your chest instead of on the shower wall.

He was growing tired of this. Coming home almost every day after interacting with you to relieve himself in the shower just so he could go about the rest of his evening. He was going to have to do something about it eventually. Whether that be finally sleeping with you or finding release elsewhere, he couldn’t fully satisfy his urges with masturbation alone anymore.

He quickly cleaned off the shower wall and himself before drying off and getting ready for bed.

As he lay in the sheets, he cursed himself for not taking your offer to go up to your place but he knew if he had, it might have been too much for you and he refused to do anything that would frighten you. No, if he was going to sleep with you, he was going to need to take it slowly.

You deserved much more than that.

Sleep didn’t come easily to him that night and he continued to toss and turn throughout the night until he finally settled into restless slumber.

The next morning, he had a plethora of chores to get done, trying to keep himself occupied as he got through them one at a time.

Each time your face invaded his thoughts, he cursed himself for saying no but ultimately he knew it was the right thing to do. Regardless of how much he wanted you, he wouldn’t give that easily into his primal desires. No, he had to do this the right way.

And he would.

——————————————————

Work for Seonghwa had gotten hectic over the next few days, booking events and preparing for a large wedding he’d booked a few months prior. He’d spent a lot of free time in the shop, cultivating the white flowers he had in stock and had been growing specifically for the wedding.

It was tedious work that kept his hands busy but his mind still wandered.

He hadn’t been in the cafe as often as before and he felt bad about that, hoping you weren’t taking it as a sign he wasn’t interested. He always made sure to let you know his interest was still there when he did visit and he couldn’t help but enjoy the way your face lit up every time you found him standing at your counter.

The innocence in your expression was the reason he was distancing himself but at the same time, it was what drew him in. The need to corrupt you and mold you to his fantasies. He knew it was wrong. You weren’t some art medium to bend and shape. You were a person with your own feelings and interests. He knew that and that’s why he had to be good.

He had to behave. 

For the fifth time that morning since visiting the cafe, he shoved thoughts of you aside as he worked, pruning and clipping. He couldn’t afford to be distracted with thoughts of you right now. He needed to fucking focus and he couldn’t do that when all he could think about was you on your back —

“Enough already!” he snapped, slamming down the shears in his hand against the work table. He stepped back, running his fingers through his hair and taking a few deep breaths.

Oh, you were going to be the death of him for sure.

It had been almost two weeks since your date with Seonghwa and the aftermath was nothing short of strange. Through text he seemed perfectly normal and when he came into the cafe, he was the same as he’d ever been, flirting with you every time.

At least up until a few days leading up to where you were now.

The last couple days, his texts fell off or were short and you feared the worst.

He’d taken you on a date and hated it.

You kept replaying the date in your mind and couldn’t exactly pinpoint any moment that might have put him off. Had you done something? Said something?

As you mulled over everything, it dawned on you that whatever it was, it had to have happened after you left the restaurant. He wouldn’t have fed you like that if he wasn’t into you, right? Like, not everyone did shit like that. 

You thought maybe you taking your shoes off was what turned him off but then he offered to carry your shoes like some lead actor in a Korean drama. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t like you still? So from that to reaching your door, what could have happened?

You scribbled on a blank notepad as you thought over it again and again until your brain hurt and you slammed the pen on your desk. You covered your face with your hands, pressing your palms into your eyes until stars appeared behind your eyelids.

You groaned loudly and let out a frustrated growl.

“It just doesn’t make any sense!” you hissed, dropping your hands into your lap and looked down at your desk, blinking away the stars. You glanced at the clock beside you that read 12:01 am and decided to call it a night and pushed your chair back. “Fuck this,” you grumbled as you turned off the desk light and made your way to your bedroom.

You had work in the morning and you couldn’t spend any more time on this tonight.

Letting out a sigh, you looked across the small square at the flower shop. The open sign was off, indicating that the show wasn’t open which was unusual for Seonghwa. He rarely ever closed the shop and you feared that maybe he might be sick or even worse. Unfortunately, you were currently on the clock and couldn’t leave the shop. Not to mention it was busier than one person could handle so you really couldn’t leave, even for a short break to check the shop and see how Seonghwa was doing.

“Y/N?” a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. 

You turned to your co-worker, an apologetic smile on your face. “Sorry, Addie, I’m really out of it today.” Addie gave you a small smile, knowing you weren’t normally like this and for you to be distracted, something really had to be wrong.

“You know,” she said softly, approaching you as she stopped sweeping. “If something is bothering you, you know you can talk to me.” 

You offered as sincere a smile as you could muster. “Thanks, Addie,” you replied. “I’m okay though. Just lost in thought is all.”

You’d die before you told her what those thoughts were.

Sure, you were partially worried about Seonghwa but part of you was lingering on what could have happened the other day. The night after your date. The night you had expected him to come into your place but instead he left you standing on your front step with not even a kiss goodbye. You had spent part of the night wondering if you’d done something wrong. The other part of the night you had spent wondering what might have happened had Seonghwa kissed you and came in like you planned on inviting him to do.

To say you wanted him was a downright understatement. You needed him. There was just something so incredibly sexy about him. Something romantic as well, and as demonstrated by the date you shared. But under all of the sweetness, the sex appeal, there was something more dangerous and yet you couldn’t put your finger on it exactly. You just knew Seonghwa was everything and more you wanted in a man and you needed him in the worst way possible.

To distract yourself, you chose to take orders while Addie fulfilled them. Talking to the customers and ringing up their orders didn’t take much brain power but it still kept your mind from wandering, especially at work which was a dangerous combination when the object of your current fantasies was across the square in his closed shop, working diligently on a large order.

Seonghwa had been working tirelessly on this order for a wedding. It was coming up, he’d booked the order months ago as was common practice for weddings. He had centerpieces, bouquets, and other floral decorations and arrangements to make and it had been taking up most of his time since the date which allowed him the time to focus on something other than his intense primal desire to bend you over the counter of his shop and rail you into next week.

Ever since leaving you on the doorstep to your place without even a goodnight kiss, he’d been beating himself up but he knew that if he had kissed you, it would have led to more and while he did want that, god did he want that, he didn’t want to scare you away. He wanted — no — he needed you in the worst ways possible but he couldn’t scare you off like that. Not when he wanted to do things to you he only ever dreamt of and dream he did.

That night and almost every night since, he’s dreamt up different ways to take you. In his shop, in the cafe when all others have gone home for the night, in his bed, in his kitchen, on the counter, everywhere. All he could think of was you, you, you. In every position possible. On your back, on your knees, on your stomach. He wanted to corrupt you so badly that you’d never want to be with another person but him.

It invaded his every waking moment and sometimes even work couldn’t stop the fantasies.

He was a man obsessed and his obsession could scare you away and he didn’t want that. You deserved more. You deserved to be courted, properly, but goddamnit all if he didn’t want to say fuck the rules, and just do what he wanted but you were far too precious. Too pure. His white lily.

He couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do that. Not to you.

He would do this the right way. He had to.

Seonghwa cursed as he poked his finger with yet another boutonniere pin, dropping the small bundle of flowers onto the work table and moving to clean the prick which started bleeding. These damn things would be the end of him. Why couldn’t he just use clips instead of fucking straight pins? ‘Outrageous.’ 

Once he cleaned the tip of his finger and it had stopped bleeding, he put a bandaid on it. He had twelve of these damn things to make. Who the hell has twelve groomsmen? At least the corsages were easy. Seonghwa picked up the boutonniere and started working again, cursing yet again when he stabbed himself. He groaned loudly, grateful he’d closed the shop for a few days to work on this order.

It was going to be a long night.

You called out a goodbye to your coworker as you headed out the front door. As you entered the mainly empty courtyard, you chanced a glance over at the floral shop. A single light from the back was flooding into the shop but the open sign remained flipped, as it had been all day.

‘So he is in there,’ you thought as you hiked the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder, trying not to wallow in the doubt and self-pity swirling in the pit of your stomach. Why hasn't he answered your texts? You were certain he’d seen them or at least you hoped he had. His read receipts were off so you couldn’t be exactly sure if he had seen them.

The walk home took longer than usual due to your preoccupied state. You’d almost run into someone at least three times, muttering an apology before hurrying on your way. Thankfully you made it home without further incident. Upon looking at the stoop to your front door, memories of that night came flooding back, when Seonghwa took you on what was probably the nicest date you’d ever been on only to leave you hanging at your front door.

As you climbed the steps, you fished out your keys and unlocked the door, letting yourself in. Stepping over the mail sitting on your welcome rug, you shut the door, locked it, and removed your shoes before bending down and grabbing the pile of envelopes.

You shuffled through them as you stood by the door before removing your coat, hanging it up and heading into the kitchen where you set your bag and keys on the counter and continued to look through your mail. Most of it was bills, advertisements, and a few card companies offering their services that you immediately tossed in the trash bin until a plain white envelope with a noticeable handwritten script caught your attention.

You set the rest of the mail down and looked over the one in your hands. Your name was written on the front but nothing else. No address and more importantly no return sender was listed. You hesitated, briefly remembering about mail bombs but snorted, amused at yourself for even considering a notion.

Why would someone send you a bomb?

You grabbed a knife from the nearby block and slit open the envelope, setting the knife on the counter and pulling out a few folded sheets of paper from inside. There weren't many pages, maybe just a few, but you opened them, reading the first line of the first page and felt your heart skip a beat.

Your breaths came out in ragged pants as you read through the letter, rereading a couple parts. Even though it was just words on paper, you could imagine the depth of his longing as he wrote the words. You let out a sigh of relief. He was just busy with work but he also didn’t want to scare you off, whatever that meant. 

It made you wonder just what he could possibly mean. 

‘I can be kind of intense at times.’ Intense how?

You carefully folded up the letter and placed the pages back into the envelope and set it down on the counter. “Saturday,” you whispered, checking the calendar hanging on the wall above your trash bin. That was only a few days away. Should you tell him you got his letter? Should you just show up?

You contemplated with yourself, the soft ticking of the clock on your wall punctuating the silence. You grabbed your bag, dug for your phone and pulled the device out, unlocking the screen and pulling up your message thread with Seonghwa.

You nibbled at your bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth and mulling over what to say before settling with a simple text.

You: I got your letter. I agree, I think we should talk face to face.

You pressed send before sending another one immediately after.

You: I’ll see you Saturday

You pressed send and set your phone down, breathing heavily as you stared at the screen.

The typing indicator appeared quickly and a reply came through just as fast. You peered down at the phone, reading the message Seonghwa had sent back.

Seonghwa: Saturday then 💮

When Seonghwa had dropped the unmarked letter through your mail slot the other morning, he never expected you to text him though he wasn’t complaining. At least he knew he hadn’t scared you off with the letter or with his words. He now only had to face you. He’d finished the last of the floral arrangements for the wedding last night and was currently in the van, making his way to the venue across town.

This wedding was a huge event. It was being held at an old rustic farm turned into an event venue. The roads were paved up until the turn onto the dirt road. Thankfully Seonghwa was only providing the flowers and not the containers. The venue had all of that.

Turning off the dirty farm road and onto the paved winding driveway made him breathe a little easier as he checked the time 11:41 am. He was well on time and would have from now until three to help set up and get all the arrangements in their designated vases and places.

Afterwards, he could focus on what he wanted to say to you on the drive back. 

The farmhouse came into view and Seonghwa let out a small huff. It was much prettier in person than it had been on the website. The house itself was an off white color with dark midnight blue shutters. The front door was the same dark blue with a porch wrapping around the bottom level.

The entire house was three levels. All the windows looked like the original ones and it was clear to him that someone had spent a lot of time and money to renovate this place, putting a lot of care into it. He continued up the winding driveway, noticing the white barn standing some yards from the main house. There were white and silver balloons lining the last 20 or so feet of the drive.

Seonghwa carefully pulled up beside the house and parked the van before opening the door and getting out. He saw a lot of people working, carrying tables, chairs, bundles of fabric with silk bows. Some were dressed in uniforms and some in dresses and button downs with slacks. Seonghwa looked around for someone in charge before he saw a woman carrying a clipboard and directing three people carrying a large round table.

He approached her, calling out and catching her attention. She was a shorter woman, maybe around his mother’s age. She wore a nice light pink dress suit and wore black thin framed glasses. She eyed him up and down, lifting her glasses to get a better look.

“Can I help you?” she asked, polite but clearly in a hurry. 

“I’m the florist,” Seonghwa announced. “I have the arrangements and just need to know where to go. 

The look on her face shifted from annoyed to beaming in a split second and it took all of Seonghwa’s willpower not to burst into laughter.

“Oh perfect, you’re right on time!” she exclaimed. “We’re setting the ceremony up in the house.”

Seonghwa nodded and moved to follow her so she could show him exactly where everything went. She pointed at the planters marking the end of the aisle where the bride would enter. 

“And then we have a fridge to keep the pieces for the reception fresh,” she added pointing to the kitchen area. “Do you need assistance?” she asked, turning to look up at him. 

Seonghwa nodded. “It’s just me, so any help would be greatly appreciated.” The woman, who Seonghwa assumed to be the planner, called over to two people, beckoning them over. 

“Would you please help this young man with the flowers,” she asked. The two nodded and followed Seonghwa out to the van. 

“I have everything labeled,” Seonghwa explained as he fished his keys out. “Centerpieces, boutonnieres, corsages, bouquets, and the large pieces are for the planters inside,” he continued as they reached the back of the van and he unlocked the doors.

Unloading the flowers wasn’t an arduous task especially since Seonghwa took it upon himself to label everything. It was just a matter of moving them inside and then separating the floral arrangements. “Here is the bride’s bouquet,” he said, unwrapping the plastic from the stems and turning to the planner. 

“I have twelve more,” he added, nodding towards the counter where twelve smaller bouquets lay alongside the corsages. 

“And the boutonnieres?” the planner asked as she scribbled on her clipboard. 

“All here,” Seonghwa said, gesturing to the counter. “Twelve boutonnieres with pins. Stabbed myself a fair bit making those,” he added with a chuckle. The woman did not laugh.

‘Tough crowd.’

Once everything was accounted for, Seonghwa helped set up the arrangements for the ceremony, placing the large bouquets in the planters, delivering the bouquets and corsages to the bridal suite, accepting the compliments from the bridesmaids and bride herself who was in stark contrast from the planner, extremely sweet and thankful. The last duty he had was to deliver the boutonnieres to the groomsmen and groom which was a far more lackluster affair than delivering to the bridal suite.

Once he was done, he started down the steps and over to the planner to secure the final payment. He’d agreed to take the payment in installments. First was the deposit followed by the first payment and now he needed the final payment. He cleared his throat as she finished speaking with one of the venue owners and she turned to him. “All flowers accounted for and delivered,” he said softly. The wedding planner stared at him blankly before he sighed.

“The final payment?” he said in a hushed voice. The planner’s eyes widened before she nodded. 

“Right,” she said quietly. “Of course.” 

She beckoned him to follow her and led him through the house and out one of the many side doors. Seonghwa followed her down the steps and over towards the barn where a man in a suit stood, talking to a few others.

The planner waved him over and discussed the topic of payment and the man nodded, pulling out his wallet. Seonghwa thanked him as the last installment was made and thanked the planner as they walked back towards the house. With his job done, Seonghwa got back in the van, taking a quick look behind to make sure nothing got left before backing up and making his way back to the dirt road.

He had about an hour until he got back to town and another 20 before he got to the shop. He checked the clock on the dash to see the time was now 2:30 pm. Time sure does fly. 

Now it was just him and his thoughts until then.

You glanced at your watch. It was 4:07 pm and Seonghwa was nowhere to be found. It was only seven minutes past four so you weren’t going to just turn around and go home. You’d give him another few minutes before you called it.

He had said any time after four and it was after four. You pulled out your phone to see if he’d called and you maybe missed it but there was nothing. No calls, no texts except the one from the other day. The day you’d gotten the letter.

Seonghwa: Saturday then 💮

You sighed as a breeze blew through the square, pulling your coat tighter around your body. ‘Come on, Seonghwa,’ you thought as you looked around. You glanced down, inspecting your outfit as a leaf landed on your knee, clinging to the material of your stocking.

It had been unseasonably cold for spring and all leaves and flowers that have been trying to grow have had a hard time braving the elements as winter tried to hold on. New green leaves quickly withered and died, the temperatures not staying warm long enough to nurture the growth.

Cherry blossoms hadn’t even sprouted due to the cooler temperatures and rainy weather. Spring was always among your favorite times of the year but sometimes, it just didn’t feel like spring and felt more like autumn or even winter at times.

You were startled out of your thoughts by the sound of the door next to where you were sitting opened, the bell ringing and making you jump and turn to find Seonghwa looking at you with as much surprise as you felt. You had expected him to come to the front door, not from inside the store. 

“Sorry,” he said immediately as you stood up, smoothing down your skirt. “Got held up by a sheep jam of all things,” he added with a smirk before noticing your cold-tinged face, his smile immediately falling. “Oh, have you been waiting long?” 

You shook your head. “No,” you said breathlessly. 

‘Liar. It’s been almost 30 minutes.’ 

Seonghwa checked his watch and then looked up and smiled at you. 

“Here,” he said softly, gesturing for you to enter.

You crossed the threshold, the warmth of the shop offering you sanctuary from the plummeting temperatures. Seonghwa shut the door, turning the lock in place before turning to look at you. “So you, uh, got my letter?” he asked as he led the way through the shop. 

“Yeah,” you murmured, following him into the backroom of the shop. You’d never seen this part of his shop before and it was like something out of a romance movie.

The room was rectangular with a short wall against the shop. The walls were lined with tiered planter boxes, built into the wooden wall, an array of flowers growing in each box, various colors and species. The back wall faced the forested area behind the shops. Glass windows dominated the wall allowing in as much natural light as possible.

In the middle of the room stood a butcher block work table with various tools for cutting, pruning, gardening, and what you assumed was flower arranging. The wall that the room shared with the main shop room had built-in-storage drawers under another flat wooden surface with various fertilizers, soil bags, and gardening solutions.

Hanging up next to the work table by the doorway was a garden hose, coiled and hanging neatly on its hanger, one end connected to a spigot and the other with a hose attachment. Seonghwa walked over to the work table in the center of the room and started cleaning up.

“I had some last minute adjustments to make before I delivered the order for the wedding,” he explained as he used a small hand brush to sweep any dirt, petals, and other debris off the table and onto the floor. 

“I didn’t have a chance to clean up before I left, so I just want to get this swept up and then we can talk, if that’s okay?” he asked, glancing up at you as you removed your coat and hung it along with your bag up by the door next to his.

“I don’t mind,” you said as you grabbed a broom and walked over. “As long as you let me help you.”

Seonghwa gave you a soft smile and nodded, silently thanking you as you started to sweep up, collecting all the dirt, petals, leaves, and other debris from around the room while he gathered his tools, cleaned them and put them away. You opened the back door and brushed all the debris out the back. It was all dirt, petals, leaves, and twigs, so it should go back to nature, right?

When you shut the door, Seonghwa was wiping down the wooden work table surface. You returned the broom back to its spot by the door and turned to Seonghwa, your hand lingering on the mop. “Do you need to mop as well?” Seonghwa looked up at you and shook his head.

“No,” he answered. “I do all my deep cleaning on Mondays,” he explained as he carried the rag over to a small hamper and dropped it in. 

“So,” he said, turning to you. “I guess we should talk.” 

You nodded, watching as he washed his hands at the small sink next to the built-in work table.

“You said in your letter,” you started, reaching into your bag and pulling out the envelope, not noticing the look of surprise on Seonghwa’s face. 

“You brought it with you?” he asked and you looked up as you pulled the pages out. 

“I wanted to reference it directly instead of relying on my memory,” you answered as you opened the letter and cleared your throat.

“That you wanted to clear up your emotions,” you started, glancing at the first page and then back up at Seonghwa as he turned to lean against the work table, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yet, it doesn’t really feel like it’s cleared up at all,” you said, looking back down.

“Isn’t it?” Seonghwa asked, drawing your attention back to him. “I think I made them perfectly clear, baeknari,” he said softly, using the nickname he’d taken to calling you. Glancing down quickly, you re-read through part of the first page.

“I said that I had a great time with you,” Seonghwa started when you didn’t speak again. “I also recall stating that I like you far more than you seem to think,” he added with a smirk. You swallowed thickly. “And I’m pretty sure I also said that I think you underestimate my attraction to you,” he continued.

You glanced up at him. “What do you mean by that?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Seonghwa merely smiled. 

“Just that. It’s more than a simple attraction, my dear,” he answered. “I’m not just attracted to you.” Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. ‘More than attraction?’

“You also said you think about me more than any man would normally admit,” you said, trying to avoid the look Seonghwa was giving you. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, goosebumps erupting over your skin under your sweater despite the warmth of the greenhouse.

“I do,” Seonghwa admitted. You glanced up at him. 

“How so?” you asked, your curiosity piqued. 

Seonghwa let out a chuckle, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “I think about you almost all the time,” he admitted, shocking you. “I think about you when I wake up. I think about you when I come to work and I see the cafe. Every time I look out the shop window and see that cafe, I think about you,” he continued.

“I think about you when I go home. I think about you when I go to bed. You occupy every thought.”

Your heart had started to race, beating erratically in your chest as he spoke.

“I think about you when I eat breakfast. And lunch. And dinner,” he continued, looking up to meet your eyes. His heated gaze sent a surge of arousal through your body. It was such a dark look. Like prey caught in the gaze of a predator. It was almost primal.

“I think about you when I’m driving; when I’m working…” he trailed off, keeping your gaze locked in his.

“When I shower.”

That seemed to do it, a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins, arousal pooling in your panties.

“Wh-when you shower?” you asked, voice cracking slightly. Seonghwa nodded wordlessly.

“I told you,” he started. “I think about you all the time. More than could be considered normal. You shouldn’t occupy my every waking thought and yet you do. Maybe I’m obsessed, but it’s not normal to think about someone as much as I think about you.”

“Obsessed?” you whispered, drawing his attention. 

“Don’t worry,” he said, shifting his weight again, moving his hands to rest against the edge of the counter. “I know what’s acceptable and what’s not. And I would never do anything to purposely make you feel uncomfortable or unsafe.”

You glanced down at the letter in your hand, scanning the words on the sheet before looking back up. 

“You said you can’t write about the things you think about,” you started. Seonghwa clicked his tongue, standing up and walking over to take the sheet. 

“No,” he said softly. “I corrected myself and said I shouldn’t write them,” he explained. 

“I can definitely write them down,” he continued, handing the sheet back to you. He moved back over to the work table, putting space between the two of you.

“But you’d prefer to say them in person?” you added, looking back up at him. Seonghwa nodded.

“I do want to say them. I want to tell you everything I think of and everything I want to do to you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, making a small sound which Seonghwa noticed. You busied yourself with his letter, changing the page to scan the next sheet. “You said you didn’t kiss me because if you had, then you ‘wouldn’t have been able to stop’,” you read. 

“Wouldn’t have been able to stop what?”

Seonghwa tilted his head, fixing you with a peculiar look. “Myself, angel. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself,” he answered. 

“From what?” you whispered, feeling heat rising to your cheeks. You weren’t dumb. You had an idea of what Seonghwa meant but you wanted to hear him say it.

“From following you into your house and doing everything I’ve imagined doing,” he replied, that dark look in his eyes back as he spoke. 

“And what do you imagine doing to me?” you asked softly. Seonghwa’s lips twitched, fighting a smirk before he cleared his throat.

“Would you like me to tell you,” he asked, looking down at the table and back. “Or would you like me to show you?”

You were at a crossroads. If you accepted his offer, it would probably lead to sex which you weren’t opposed to. If you declined, where would that lead? Would you leave and never speak to him again? 

You knew you wanted Seonghwa. He was kind, passionate, ambitious, generous, intelligent, witty, and insanely attractive. You wanted him so bad. So who were you to deny yourself?

Your eyes scanned the letter one last time before folding it, placing the sheets back in the envelope and sliding the letter back into your purse before crossing the room, sliding between Seonghwa and the work table before looking up to meet his gaze.

“You said you’re afraid of scaring me off,” you started. “Is that right?”

Seonghwa nodded, you noticed how he swallowed. “Why would I be scared?” you asked softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. Seonghwa leaned into your touch, lips parting as a soft sigh escaped him. Your thumb moved, brushing over his bottom lip.

“Because,” he started, his breath hot against your skin. “I can be kind of—”

“Intense?” you asked, smiling when he nodded. “What makes you think that would scare me?”

Without warning, Seonghwa’s hands found purchase on your hips, pushing you against the edge of the work table. “I’m not a very sweet or soft lover,” he murmured against your hand. “I’m rough, hard,” he continued, one hand grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Unforgiving.”

You brought your free hand up to run your fingers through his hair before grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging sharply. “And who said I am?” you asked softly, enjoying the way he moaned against your hand. He let go of your wrist, fingers skimming your neck lightly.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Kitten,” he murmured, eyes scanning up to meet your gaze. “Keep this up and I’ll take you right here.”

You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, forcing his hand against your throat. “Do it, then,” you whispered. Seonghwa hesitated, eyes searching your face. “What did you say?” he asked, his voice quiet but clear.

“I said do it,” you repeated. “Take me, Seonghwa. I’m yours. I always was.”

The next moment, Seonghwa’s lips crashed against yours, one hand firmly on your hip, the other moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips parted, tongue quickly slipping into your mouth, moving against yours. You whimpered against his lips, his mouth swallowing it eagerly.

“God I would love to take you home,” Seonghwa murmured against your lips, hand still on the back of your neck, holding you in place. “Lay you down in my bed and take my time with you like you deserve.” 

You felt his other hand slide down your hip to your thigh. “So why don’t you?” you asked, hands moving up his chest to hold onto his shoulders.

“Because,” he started, gripping your thigh and hiking your knee up to his waist. He guided you to lay back on the work table. 

“I’m an impatient man,” he continued, his hand sliding down the outside of your thigh to your ass. “And I told you I’m a rough, unforgiving lover.”

You felt him roll his hips into yours grinding his erection into your soaked panties, giving you some slight friction against your aching clit. “And you told me to take you right here,” he added, slowly lowering your head to the work table, his hand moving around to ghost over your throat before sliding down your chest, not giving it much attention as he continued to move it lower until he reached the hem of your sweater. 

“As cute as this is,” he murmured, pulling at your top. “It needs to come off.”

You sat up, grabbing the hem of your sweater and pulling it up over your head and dropping it on the table. Underneath you wore a simple ribbed white turtleneck top with short sleeves tucked into your skirt. Seonghwa grabbed at your shirt, leaning over to capture your lips in a heated kiss.

He pushed it up past your chest, hands cupping your breasts firmly but gently. “Take it off,” he ordered. You raised yourself up from the surface of the table to pull the shirt off, letting it fall wherever you dropped it. You were left in your skirt and a lacy lavender bralette with straps crossing over your chest. 

Seonghwa let out a sigh as he took in your form, eyes shining with lust and another emotion you couldn’t exactly place. You suddenly felt self conscious under his gaze and moved your hands to cover yourself but he stopped you, grabbing your wrists and pinning your hands down against the wood.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled. “Don’t you cover yourself. I’ve wondered for so long what kind of lingerie you wear and to see it now? Don’t you dare hide it from me.” He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips. You sighed out as he left a trail of kisses from your lips across your cheek and down the side of your neck, stopping to nip at the skin above your pulse point.

You let out a moan as his teeth grazed your skin. Even if a mark did or didn’t form, you’d still know he was there. Seonghwa continued down your neck, leaving love bites in his wake until he reached your chest. “I’d love to sit here and admire you all night in this,” he said softly, fingers skimming the delicate lace of your bralette. “But I really want to take it off,” he continued.

You ran your fingers through his hair as he nuzzled your sternum, hands sliding down to your waist. “Take it off,” you whispered. Seonghwa lifted his head to meet your gaze. He’d barely done anything to you but he looked like he was intoxicated. Drunk off touching you.

“You want me to do that, blossom?” he asked softly. “You want me to undress you?” 

You nodded shyly, heat rising to your cheeks as he reached up to stroke your cheek. His thumb brushed over your lips like yours had earlier and without prompting, you parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking. Seonghwa let out a groan, his free hand fumbling with the clasp on the front of your bralette and managing to undo it.

Keeping his thumb in your mouth, he pulled you to sit up, pushing the bralette off you and letting it fall onto the wooden surface of the table. You swirled your tongue around his thumb and Seonghwa pulled his hand back before cupping your jaw. “Wanna show me what else you can do with that mouth, sweetheart?” You nodded wordlessly as he helped you down from the table.

“On your knees then, Kitten.”

You slowly lowered yourself down, keeping your eyes on his face. Seonghwa ran his fingers through his hair before cupping your chin. “Have you ever done this before?” 

You nodded slowly. “Once,” you answered. “I’ll do my best though.” Seonghwa let out a groan before squeezing your chin gently.

“Open your mouth, blossom,” he ordered, moving his hands to undo his belt and pants as you kneeled there, sitting on your heels. “Tongue out,” he ordered as he moved slowly, sliding his hand into his underwear where your eyes couldn’t see. His hand moved inside his boxers at the sight of you on your knees for him.

“Come here,” he said breathlessly. You raised yourself up off your heels, moving your hands up his thighs. Seonghwa pushed his pants and underwear down just enough to pull his cock free, allowing you to see it. It was larger than you expected but it didn’t look like it would hurt to take.

The head was bulbous, tip slightly red with a bead of precum.

“Open your mouth, baby,” Seonghwa said, drawing your attention away from his cock. You opened your mouth again. “Tongue,” he added and you obliged, letting your tongue fall from your mouth to make space. “Tap my thigh once for yes and twice if it’s too much or you want to stop, okay?” he asked softly. You nodded and waited as he guided the head to your mouth, letting it rest against your tongue. 

It was salty, no doubt from the precum, as he rubbed the head against your tongue before pushing further into your mouth, inhaling sharply as his cock entered your mouth, your tongue brushing against the underside. “Breathe through your nose,” he instructed. You did as he said and once you’d taken a deep breath, Seonghwa pushed the rest of his cock in until it reached the back of your mouth, stopping just before it entered your throat.

“I’m gonna guide your head, okay?” Seonghwa asked. You tapped his thigh to let him know you were fine. Seonghwa guided your head, making you pull back before pulling you forward. He set a steady pace, making sure to stop before you gagged.

After a couple moments, you didn’t need his guidance and started moving on your own, keeping your hands on his thighs, nails raking over the material of his pants. “That’s it, kitten. Keep going,” he muttered, gently stroking your hair. “Just like that.”

You moaned, taking him as far into your mouth as you could. You noticed how his hips started to follow your mouth, shallowly thrusting. “Hold still,” he instructed, placing his hand on the back of your head. He gave you a tentative thrust, gauging your gag reflex. He gave you another, and then another, setting a steady pace of shallow thrusts.

The tip of his cock hit the back of your mouth with a lewd wet sound almost like a gag but you didn’t gag. He was testing your limits and it seemed he could hit the back of your mouth without a reaction. You closed your eyes, breathing through your nose as best as you could with each thrust into your mouth. Seonghwa let out a strained grunt and thrust, hard, forcing his cock into your throat briefly making you gag and your body react violently.

He pulled back, as you gasped, coughing. Your cheeks were stained with tears, drool running down your chin and onto your chest. In every sense of the word, you were a mess but to Seonghwa you were a vision. He carefully pulled you to your feet, guiding you back onto the table before flipping your skirt up, exposing your soiled underwear. He tsked softly, looking up at you.

“How long have you been this wet, sweetheart?” he asked, meeting your gaze.

“A while,” you whispered. Seonghwa sighed and quickly removed your panties, stuffing them into his pocket as he pulled his underwear up to cover his cock. 

“You were so good for me,” he murmured, parting your thighs to look down at your sex, arousal smeared all over your lips.

“Now I’ll be good for you,” he added. You propped yourself up to watch as he lowered his head, pressing wet, open mouth kisses along the inside of your thigh, stopping to sink his teeth into your soft skin. You let out a breathy whine as he skipped over your core, kissing up the inside of your other thigh and biting into your skin, leaving small imprints that would eventually fade.

“Give me your hand, blossom,” he said, holding his hand out, palm up. You placed your hand in his and watched curiously as he guided your hand to his head. “You might want to hold on,” he said with a smirk before dipping his head, spreading your thighs and licking slowly up your slit, pressing his tongue past your folds and finding your clit with relative ease.

Your fingers immediately curled into his hair as you felt some mild relief but as soon as Seonghwa got a taste, it was like a switch was flipped. His fingers dug into your thighs, keeping them parted as he lapped at your cunt greedily, like it was the last meal he’d ever have.

The tip of his tongue slipped into your entrance briefly before gliding back up to tease your clit. You raised your head, propping yourself up on one elbow, keeping a firm grip on his hair and let out a moan when you met his gaze. He flattened his tongue, moving his head from side to side slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he did. 

Your thighs tried to close but he held them open with a vice like grip. You could feel your orgasm building, bubbling up like carbonation in a bottle of soda that had been shaken up. But before it could explode, Seonghwa pulled back, wiping his lips and chin with the back of his hand.

“Sorry, Kitten,” he breathed, leaning over your body, leaving wet kisses up your stomach, stopping at your chest to brush his lips over one of your nipples before parting his lips and swirling his tongue around it. He sucked lightly, letting it fall from his mouth before continuing, kissing up your chest and your neck. “When you cum for me for the first time, it’s going to be around my cock,” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath making your shiver.

You heard him messing with his pants, pushing them back down and pulling his cock free.

“I don’t have any condoms here,” he muttered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I don’t normally fuck pretty little baristas in the backroom of my shop,” he added, a smirk in his tone. 

“So I’m special?” you whispered, breathlessly as he pressed the head of his cock against your leaking entrance. 

“Oh baby, you’re so much more than just special,” he murmured as he rutted against you.

“Such a pretty little thing. So sweet, and not nearly as innocent as I thought,” he added as the underside of his cock rubbed against your clit. “Will you let me fuck you raw, sweetheart? Or are you too innocent for that? Have you ever been fucked raw?”

You shook your head. “No, never,” you answered. “Never been fucked raw.”

Seonghwa chuckled, his hot breath tickling your neck. “So I’m the first? You have no idea how happy that makes me. You’ll let me be the first, right? You’ll let me fuck you raw, won’t you?”

You nodded fervently, the tip of his cock bumping your clit and making you gasp. “Yes, Seonghwa, please. Take me, please. Fuck me please, please,” you pleaded. Seonghwa let out a groan as he slowed his pace, guiding the head of his cock to your hole and pushing it in slowly.

“Oh you really want this,” he commented, watching his cock disappear inside you. “Sucked my cock in so hungrily. What a greedy little cunt you have,” he murmured, sheathing himself in one fluid motion and rocking your body against the wooden table. 

“Oh fuck, Hwa!” you gasped, one hand gripping the table edge above your head, the other grabbing his shoulder. You were half naked under him and other than his pants being undone and pushed halfway down his thighs, Seonghwa was still fully dressed.

Seonghwa cupped your jaw, squishing your cheeks slightly. “What a dirty fucking mouth you have,” he growled, his hips moving, pulling back and snapping forward, thrusting into you harshly. “Open your mouth, Kitten,” you parted your lips, obeying him. Seonghwa stilled his hips for just a moment, spitting into your mouth before resuming his punishing pace.

The table creaked under you with each thrust, the sound of his skin hitting yours filling the room with the sounds of his cock plunging in and out of your wet hole. Heat spread from your cheeks to your neck and chest as your orgasm approached rapidly. 

“Are you gonna cum already, Blossom? I’ve barely even fucked you properly,” he chuckled, his tone mocking instead of sweet which you should have expected. He said he was an unforgiving lover.

You whimpered, hand moving up into his hair and gripping it tightly. “Pull my hair again baby and I’ll teach you what happens when you can’t behave,” he growled, one hand moving to your throat and pinning you down against the table. 

“What will you do?” you challenged.

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes, hips snapping against you and rocking the whole table. “Turn you over and pin you down, fuck you until you full of nothing but my cum. Would you like that, petal? You want to be fucked full of my cum until it drips down your legs like a dirty little cumslut?”

You moaned, walls fluttering around his cock as your orgasm drew nearer. “Oh, that does it for you, does it? Sweet little Y/N, my own little lily, likes being called a cumslut?” Seonghwa teased, making you moan again as his grip on your throat tightened, restricting the flow of your blood but not your oxygen.

“Likes being choked, likes it when I spit into her mouth, likes being fucked like a bitch in heat in the backroom of my flower shop, you really aren’t as innocent as you seem,” he muttered, his hips stuttering momentarily.

“Are you like this with all the guys?” he asked, tightening his grip on your throat. You whimpered, thighs trying to close as his free hand moved, thumb brushing over your clit to send you hurtling towards the edge. “Do you let all the guys have you like this?”

You shook your head, gripping his wrist as the corners of your eyes burned with unshed tears. It felt so fucking good but you were teetering on the edge, unable to full cum as his thumb stopped rubbing your clit and he alternated to giving you shallow thrusts that had you standing on the precipice.

“No!” you gasped. “No one else,” you added. “Only you. No one else has ever filled me up. You’re the first. No one else can. I’m yours!” Your words had the intended effect of Seonghwa and he resumed ramming into you, resting his forehead against yours as he muttered he was close.

“Where do you want it?” he asked quickly, hips faltering slightly. “Inside me, Seonghwa, please. Cum inside me,” you gasped. Seonghwa growled, letting go of your throat in favor of cradling your head as his thrusts grew more erratic, sloppier, his moans coming out in pitched whines until he gave you one final thrust, tipping you over the edge, your thighs shaking as your walls clenched around his cock. You clawed at his shirt, whimpering as he fucked his cum into you weakly until his hips stilled, face buried in the crook of your neck as you both basked in the aftermath of your highs.

You weren’t sure how long it took but as you came down, the realization that you were half naked on Seonghwa’s work table in the backroom of his floral shop dawned on you and you cleared your throat, licking your dry lips, and tried to get his attention.

“Seonghwa,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. He hummed in response, pressing a few short kisses to your neck. “I’m feeling kind of exposed here,” you added. 

Seonghwa lifted his head and let out a huff of air before pushing himself up. His hair was a mess, lips red and swollen from your kisses, his cheeks were pink from exertion. “Shit, let me uh…” he trailed off as he looked around. “Stay right there.”

He carefully pulled his cock free, wincing slightly as he tucked himself back in his pants and rushed over to the drawers on the inside wall. He looked through them quickly and returned with a clean cloth and carefully wiped your skin, the insides of your thighs, your sex and the edge of the table under you.

He dashed around, collecting your clothing and shook them before helping you back into your bralette, top and sweater. “Where are my panties?” you asked, looking around as Seonghwa zipped and buttoned his pants. “Oh,” he said softly, reaching into his pocket and pulling your panties out, unwading them and helping you into them.

“Just until we get you home,” he added as he redid his belt and looked up at you. He reached up, brushing your bottom lip. “Or we can go back to mine,” he offered. You smiled as he leaned in, taking your face in his hands and kissing you sweetly, in high contrast from the pounding he just gave you.

“We can also just go back to mine. It’s closer, isn’t it?” you muttered against his lips, grabbing him by the sweater. 

Seonghwa smiled into the kiss before pulling back. “Is this your way of getting me into your bed, miss?” he asked softly, thumbs grazing over your cheeks.

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Maybe.”

Seonghwa chuckled, kissing your cheeky grin. “Dare I say, it’s working,” he commented, giving you another kiss before pulling away, taking your hand and leading you away from the table and towards the door into the shop. You stopped to grab your things and followed Seonghwa to the front door where he helped you with your coat before unlocking the door and opening it. 

“After you, ma’am,” he said and you gently pushed his chest. 

“Ugh, don’t call me ma’am,��� you groaned as you stepped out into the night air.

Seonghwa followed behind, shutting the door and locking it. “Oh?” he asked, pocketing his keys and leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek and then your lips. “What would you like me to call you, then?” he asked, voice muffled by your lips. 

“I like Blossom,” you said softly after a moment of contemplation.

“Or Petal,” you added. Seonghwa smiled, cupping your cheek and pulling you into yet another kiss.

“Blossom it is,” he replied before pulling away and offering his arm for you to take. You did so and followed his lead. “So your place?” he asked, looking at you as you walked. 

You nodded, smiling up at him. “I can get clean underwear,” you said with a nod.

“Or you can just not wear clothes,” Seonghwa said as you walked, making you giggle.

“Well there’s another reason I’d like to go back to my place,” you added.

“Oh?” Seonghwa asked, looking at you as you pulled him to a stop and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I have spreader bars at my place.”

You giggled at the surprised look on his face before letting go of his arm and continuing forward. Seonghwa quickly caught up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Spreader bars? As in multiple?” he hissed. “Seriously? Next you’ll tell me you have an assortment of fantasy dildos.”

You giggled again, harder and Seonghwa looked at you incredulously. 

“Guess I’m not as innocent as you thought,” you whispered.

“No,” he replied, a smirk forming on his face. “No, I guess not.”

You checked the label on the cup and read the name out loud, smiling as the customer came to get their order. The rush had just ended, the last of your customers trickling out of the door or finding empty seats to sit down and do their work or study.

“I’m gonna take my break, Y/N,” Addie said as you wiped down your counter. 

“Okay,” you called back. 

“Lin can fill in for me.” You smiled as Lin turned to look at you before they looked past you with a look of mild surprise and nodded. You turned around expecting to see a customer but were instead greeted with a singular white lily.

A smile spread across your face as you looked past the petals and saw the face of your boyfriend, the sweet, albeit kinky and sex-crazed, florist who worked across the square. “To what occasion do I owe this beautiful gift?” you asked, taking the flower from him and bringing it to your face to smell the scent.

“Occasion?” Seonghwa asked, leaning against the counter. “Do I need an occasion to bring my beautiful girlfriend a flower?” he asked, reaching across the counter to gently take your chin in his hand and caress your cheek with his thumb. 

“Girlfriend?” a voice asked, making you both turn to find Addie looking from the back room in shock.

Seonghwa chuckled softly and looked back at you. “What time do you get off?” he asked as you admired the flower. 

“In about an hour,” you hummed, looking up at him. 

“Perfect, cause see I know this really great place. The wine is amazing and the food is to die for,” he mused, taking one of your hands.

“No flirting with the employees!” Addie said though you could tell by the tone in her voice she wasn’t serious. 

“So how about it?” Seonghwa asked. “I’ll pick you up here when you get off, we can stop by your place and you can change and then we’ll go?”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Where is this place? Is it new?” you asked. You’d been to most of the restaurants in town and if something new had popped up, you were sure word would have spread. Seonghwa fought the urge to smile, cupping your cheek again.

“You could say that,” he answered. “I’ll see you in an hour,” he added, standing up straight. 

“Wait,” you called, making him stop by the door but also making a few of the patrons look up. Seonghwa calmly walked back over. “Where is this place?” you asked softly, leaning in, ignoring the looks of both your coworkers and the customers alike.

“You’ll like it,” Seonghwa said playfully. “I know the owner.”

You raised an eyebrow at this. “Why won’t you just tell me where it is?”

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning across the counter and catching you in a surprise kiss. “It’s my place,” he finally said with a laugh and stood up straight, drumming quickly on the counter before walking towards the door. “One hour,” he called and stepped out the door, letting it shut behind him.

“Since when are you seeing the florist?” Lin whispered, coming over to get a look at the lily in your hands. “Since last week,” you murmured, remembering the intense sex you had with said florist in his shop and then again the next morning and night at your place.

“You’re hiding something,” Addie said suddenly, startling you with her close proximity.

“What are you hiding?” You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said, turning away and looking out the cafe window to the floral shop across the square where Seonghwa was unlocking the door and entering the shop, shutting the door behind him.

“Nothing at all.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me. Content and support banners made by me using cafekitsune's template.

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Taming the Supe

✨ Soldier Boy x Fem!Therapist!Reader ✨

Minors do ¡NOT! interact with this post. Thanks.

A/N: Let me be upfront and say that I actually haven’t seen the boys 😭 not my cup of tea as far as shows go. So this perception of SB might be very far off. But like, he’s hot and he keeps showing up on my feed so this is happening >:) and in my defense I did try to do a little bit of research on America’s Ass(hole), so hopefully that shows lol. From what I understand he’s a TERRIBLE person who just so happens to be extremely attractive, so slay. Oh, also, to any therapist reading this: I am so, SO sorry.

Icons by me! Any and all interaction is very much appreciated!

Also- I’m looking for a beta reader/ editor! If you think you’d be interested, dm me!

Content Warnings: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ 🌶️honestly that about sums it up. There’s SOME- A LITTLE- plot but it’s more plop if you catch my drift. This is toe-curling, eyes-rolling, name-screaming, tsunami-coming level shit, ya hear?? At least, that’s what I went for. ;)

Just note that SB is… very SB for the better half of it. And he has an INSANE breeding kink.

The ending’s real rushed cause honestly this was mainly written for the spice, but hopefully it’s enjoyable!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible. In all regards.

He was a jackass- apple didn’t fall far from the tree as far as he and his dad were concerned. It wasn’t necessarily Ben’s fault; you cant help your blood. But because of said aforementioned father, Ben was brought up on misogynist ideals and the ideal that he was simultaneously both a disappointment and the bearer of a massive god-complex. The former applied to when he was around his father, the latter to when he was around literally anyone else.

Not only that, but he was separated from society for forty years, being tortured- sorry, “experimented on”- by a skeevy Russian organization that his own teammates had pawned him off too. Sure, he had committed massive, unforgivable atrocities, but quite frankly, the other supes on Payback weren’t much better. Maybe not as bad, but certainly not much better.

He re-walked upon the United States at the very young age of one hundred and three, coupled with PTSD, a god complex and more “back in my day” rants than your weird old uncle could ever hope to spew.

And now the thing is: it’s easy to make him look like he blends in. Trim the disheveled forty-year-old beard, give him some boyish bangs, throw him in a tight white shirt and a Giants jersey with grey sweats and all of a sudden you have a normal looking, abnormally attractive dude. Looks maybe thirty seven. Has a smile that has probably actually, literally charmed the pants off of someone.

But to make him act right? That’s the hard part.

That also where you came in.

You were a therapist with a damn good reputation. Shouldn’t have been involved with Supes in the slightest, but you owed Hughie Campbell a favor. Good kid who just so happened to have powers. So be it.

The kid had stumbled into your office a few years before Soldier Boy returned, and you had had multiple sessions before he dropped of the grid. You paid it no mind- you have a lot of clients, and therapy isn’t a good world to get attached to any of them.

But then one day, after one of Homelander’s many destructive “saves” of the city, you found yourself stuck in a burning building. By some miracle Hughie was in the same building, and he teleported you out and onto safer ground. Sure it was awkward being held up bridal style by a young dude who was ass-naked, but stranger things have happened.

Because of the save, you felt that you owed him, and told him as much. He was gracious, not wanting to take advantage of you, and you went back to not hearing anything from him.

That is, until just after the news article about Soldier Boy’s return broke out. It was definitely a headline that had caused you to raise a brow, but from what you knew America’s first supe was not what Vought made him out to be in the eyes of the public. He was an asshole who killed activists, and was most likely very racist. If anything, seeing the headline made you slightly wary for the good of the world. But you let it slide, figuring that if you already existed in a world where psychos like Homelander did you would probably be fine if there was one more.

Well, you were very much wrong.

A few days after the article broke out, Hughie called you. Asked if you would be okay to take you up on that favor. Of course, you said yes- you were only alive because of him. He had showed up to your house, and teleported you to a dinghy motel with no explanation, rendering you both in the same awkward situation as before. Him holding you bridal style, ass naked. If you had a nickel for every time he’s done that… you’d have ten cents, but it’s still oddly specific of it to happen twice.

“Listen,” he had said, setting you down. You had no choice but to do so, given that he was ass naked and it would be really awkward to see that. So you kept your eyes locked on his as he talked. “You know how Soldier Boy is back?”

“Mhm…” you nodded warily, knowing damn well that that was an ominous hook to your situation.

“Uh, he’s insane.”

“Sorry, he’s, like, he is? Presently?”

“Yeah… he’s in there and I think he would really benefit from a little therapy. His mind’s wired like a grandpa who has stories from every war.”

“Fuck, Hugh,” you cursed. He winced, his sweet eyes opened wide. “Sorry. It’s just.. are you kidding me?” Soldier Boy? It would probably take a team of specialists to figure out what’s going on in that head.

“Look, I know it’s a lot to ask, but could you at least try?”

“Only for you.” It was really hard to have resolve with those puppy dog eyes staring at you.

“Thanks, y/n. Really.”

So you had walked in behind him; waiting as he threw on some sweats that were in a plastic bag outside of the motel room door.

You walked in together, only to see the most beautiful man you’d ever seen sitting on the bed, shoes still on.

Look. Everyone has fantasized about Soldier Boy at least once in their lives. The pinnacle of physical perfection, charisma oozing from his pores- it was hard not to. You were no exception- in your younger years there had certainly been more than a few nights where you were fucking yourself to pictures or videos of him, pathetically rutting on your clit and wishing it was his huge, gloved hands instead.

Of course, that was well before the article on the truth about him broke out. After that he had majorly lost his sex appeal.

However, seeing him in person immediately flashed you back to being younger and sexually frustrated, wondering how a man like that even existed. He was even better looking in person, piercing green eyes boring holes into you.

Thankfully it only took one douchey comment to snap you back to reality.

“So prostitutes are still a thing?” he asked, the question directed at Hughie. You immediately balled your hands into fists at your side, ready to tell this old-ass off, before remembering that you were there on professional business.

“No, no, she’s a therapist,” Hughie told him. “Y/n L/n, the best in the business.”

“You brought me a shrink?” he laughed incredulously. “Fuck you, I don’t have shell shock!”

He definitely had shell shock.

You didn’t bother waiting for Hughie to answer. “Listen, Mr. Boy, I’m only here ‘cause I owe this kid a favor. Would it really pain you so much to talk about yourself for an hour?” Your hands were planted on your hips.

“Man, when did women get so feisty?” he asked, that 1950s accent oozing through his words.

“Once they came to their senses,” I say with sass.

“So what? All I have to do is talk to a pretty thing about me?”

“Pretty much,” you conceded, ignoring the “compliment” he payed you.

“Fine.” Great. He agreed. How wonderful.

“I’m going to get some food, I’ll be back in an hour. If you need anything at all, just text me,” Hughie told me. “Thanks again.”

“Sure,” you replied, leaning in by his ear. “I think you’re going to owe me after this.

“Yeah, you’re probably not wrong,” he agrees, patting you on the back before teleporting away to the store. Man, this power thing… never gets any less weird.

“Take a seat,” Soldier Boy patted his lap.

“Hilarious,” you rolled your eyes, sitting on the other bed. Look, if he hadn’t been the jackass you knew him to be you most definitely would’ve sat on his lap. But you knew better. At least in the moment. “So, tell me about yourself.”

“M’name’s Ben, and I’m a soldier. My daddy hated me, so became a superhero. Surprise, surprise, he still hated me. But I’m better, stronger than he ever was. Might go take a piss on his grave while I’m here.”

“Interesting,” you murmur, putting together a mental file. Name: Ben. No last name? Weird. Daddy issues- makes the god complex make sense. Hmm. “Did you ever have a mother in the picture?”

“No. Died when I was a boy.” Added to file.

“Okay, so then why take the serum?” You know why, but you want to see something.

“You deaf? I said it was cause my daddy hated me.”

“You took a untested, potentially dangerous serum just because of your daddy issues?” you ask, matching his rude tone.

“You- you know what? This is boring. How about you and I fuck instead of this, hm?” he asks. Him saying the word fuck turned you on more than it should, but his misogyny was a quick turnoff.

“I think I’m just going to text Hughie,” you said, moving to stand, wholly unimpressed.

“Wait, no- I did it cause I hated feeling weak. Feeling stupid. Thought it would turn me into someone, just turned me into a jackass machine,” he said honestly, his eyes big and sad.

“Okay,” you said simply, sitting back down. That’s much more like it. “So then what led you to murder innocent people?”

If this were a normal session you would have never asked such a thing. Ever. But this was anything but normal.

“What did you just say to me?” And there it was. A glimpse of that Soldier Boy quick temper. You probably shouldn’t have been making him mad, but you didn’t know how else to go about this given that you weren’t in your professional environment.

“You heard me,” you told him with your arms crossed, trying to bite back the fear caused by

“You’re playing with fire,” he warns, fists balled at his sides. “A question like that’s gonna cost ya.”

You roll your eyes, standing my ground. “Why. Did. You. Murder. Them?”

“Because they deserved it,” he yelled, standing up. You do your best not to flinch, but he was an imposing six-and-some feet tall.

“How? Did the Milk family deserve it? Did their son?” you yell, fighting off the fear in your voice.

He stops then, jaw clenching. “I was the good guy. The hero.” His voice breaks, ever so slightly. His green eyes burn holes into yours. You stare right back, just as intensely.

“So, imposter syndrome.”

“No!” he roared, the sound threatening to bring down the roof of the motel room.

“They were good people. Activists. Made a difference in their community.”

“That got what was coming to them.”

“What? A car being thrown at their house?”

“You…” he steps closer. You sit up in the bed, back against the headboard. “You don’t know me.”

I stand up then. Not nearly as tall as him, but in anger. “Yeah, but I know your actions.”

“Then you should think I’m a hero.”

“I don’t.” I say grimly, arms crossed.

“I’m Soldier Boy, for Christ’s sake,” he spat.

“Yeah, and I’m Y/N L/N. Who fucking cares.” Well this went from therapy to argument real fast.

He leans down then, by my ear. It’s all you can do not to back away as his hot breath fans the column of your neck. “Maybe you should.” His voice is gravelly, rough from anger but also from something else…

“Well I won’t.” You said, maintaining your ground.

“Wrong move, sweetheart,” he said, before crashing his lips to yours. You squeaked into the kiss, surprised, but he just took initiate to shove his tongue in your mouth, exploring with great fervor.

And you knew damn well how wrong this was. How unprofessional you had been; how bad it was that his tongue, this tongue of a murderer, was half down your throat. But in the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, because he was just that good of a kisser. Made you forget about the misogyny and his volatility. At least, for the time being.

He pulled away, smirking down at you.

“If we do this, you’re going to talk to me after. Act like you’re an adult,” you told him sternly, as if your underwear wasn’t soaked with arousal from the kiss.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled.

“I fucking mean it,” you reiterated, hands on his pecs.

“And I fucking said fine,” he retorted. “Ben,” he introduced as an after thought.

“Okay, cool. Ben.”

“That’s the name I better hear coming off those pretty lips in a couple minutes here,” his gaze darkened with lust, emerald green eyes darkened to the color of a forest cloaked in the dead of night..

“O-okay.” And there it is, the first time you gave into the stutter derived from your desire. This was dangerous, but once he kissed you again you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

When he pulled away he thumbed at your lower lip, and you immediately react led to his touch, mouth falling open around the digit. “Good girl,” he praised, and you hated the way you felt proud at his words. He pulled off his jersey and under shirt, urging you to do the same until you both stood before each other, topless. He crowded you against the bed until you fell back, calves draped over the edge. He made room for himself between your legs, kissing you furiously, and you let out little breathy sighs as he did so.

“Attagirl,” he breathed when you gasped his name as he bit along your collarbone. He continued his fiery trail, from the juncture of your earlobe and neck to your collar bone and then down your chest, and you knew damn well that you weren’t going to be able to cover up half of the marks he gave you. But you also couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“You-you can come in me,” you mumbled as he kisses the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I’ll fill you up real good” he said, eliciting a gasp from you when he bites your nipple.

He continued his path of kisses down your body, and in the bottom of your eye you could already see dark marks on the tops of your breasts, making your head fuzzy.

He stopped at your pants, biting the juncture of your hip and and thigh.

“‘m gonna get you ready for me,” he explained, before ripping off your pants and underwear in one go. This is not a metaphor, he literally tore them of you. You whined in protest, but he dismissed you, saying “I’ll get you new ones.”

And even though you knew he most definitely wouldn’t, his breath on your clit stopped you from caring.

He gave you no warning before diving into your soaked pussy, and you all but screamed his name when he fid, your fingers grasping his hair for dear life. He groaned into your cunt but kept going, spurred on by your actions.

The thing was, you hadn’t expected him to be good at eating pussy. He was from, like, the forties, after all. You thought that most people then probably didn’t bother as no one really cared about women and probably their pleasure back then.

Well, Soldier Boy- Ben- was very different.

He worked at you methodically, licking long stripes before thrusting his tongue in an out of you, testing the waters. He kept eye contact, and you could feel the smugness in his gaze as he watched you come apart.

Eventually he switched so that he was sucking on your clit, which would’ve been enough to bring you over already but then he added one of his long, thick fingers to your pussy. You yelped his name, not ready for the stretch and on the edge.

“Don’t stop,” you urged, whining. “Please don’t stop, Ben.”

And he didn’t, adding a second finger and scissoring within you. If his fingers were already like this, his cock…

But you couldn’t think about that then, nor could you really think about anything at all because he started tracing tight patterns on your bud and added a third finger, stretching you so far that you had no choice but to come. He helped you ride out your high for longer than you thought possible, lapping up all of your release before standing up to full height.

“That good, Sweets?” he smirked, looking down at your fucked out self. You nodded dumbly, and he chuckled. “Thought so.”

Your release covered his facial hair, but he didn’t seem to care much, just wiped a little off with his forearm. He then kicked off his shoes and took off his pants and underwear, and that’s when you saw it.

You were already baffled by him- beyond hot, perfect physique, pussy-eating champion, etc.

But his cock? It was huge. And it was perfect, a word that shouldn’t be able to be used to describe the male genitalia.

“Ben- that’s not going to fit-,” you gasp, sounding like a cheap porno.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, and from his tone you could tell he was going to bottom out no matter what.

Oh, god.

He climbed over you, his large forearms on either side of your head as he rested over you in a plank. He put a pillow under your hips, and you knew you were in for it.

He rubbed his glorious dick over your hole, your clit, and through your folds, covering it in your slick, and you moaned his name.

“Good girl,” he praised, before finally lining up with your entrance. You were already clenching around nothing, but then he started pushing in.

If his fingers were big, his dick… even the tip had you a moaning mess.

“Oh, honey, you’re tighter than a virgin who’s never touched herself,” he groaned as he pushed in, you writhing beneath him. “‘n I just stretched you out, too.” The pillow under your hips let him get impossibly deep, and after an eternity he finally bottomed out, so large that you shouldn’t have been able to take him. But you did, and he hadn’t even done anything yet but you were a whimpering, whiny mess under him.

“I’m gonna move now,” he told you, before pulling almost all the way out and back in, slowly. You were writhing under him, but he was undeterred, and just kept going until you gave him easy access.

“Ben?” you asked, your voice sweet. And you didn’t know what possessed you to add the next part of your question, but you did. “Can you fuck me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he groaned, before rearing back again and slamming back into you. It was hard and it was rough, and it was exactly what you wanted even if you knew you weren’t gonna be able to sit right for a week.

You literally had a supe cock in you. You’d seen dildos of these, maybe even owned one, but nothing could do the real thing justice as you whined beneath it.

And if you thought it was already enough just taking him like this, once he started talking you were through.

“Yeah, take it,” he smirked, pounding into you at literal superhuman speed. “I’m going to destroy this cunt until we’re both leaking out of it, and then I’m going to keep going,” he promised against your collarbone, biting anywhere he pleased. You whimper against him, pussy clenching around his enormous length as it crashed in and out of your fluttering walls.

“You like that? Wanna be my little slut?” he grinned, rutting on your clit so you couldn’t answer. “You’d be a real good slut. Would just keep you at home all day, naked and always ready for me. Always full of me too,” he mused, his pace somehow getting rougher. Your mouth was dropped in a permanent ‘o’ as you reveled in the way his huge hands are squeezing your hips and pulling you against him, filing you to the base.

“No other boy can do it like me, sweetheart,” he said cockily. “Fill you up so good, make you mewl.” And as it turns out he was most definitively right about that. But then it was too hard to think about what’s right and wrong when-

“Ben- I- ‘m gonna-.”

“Aww baby, what’s the matter? ‘M I fucking you too good? You can’t talk?”

You moaned pathetically, pulling on his fluffy hair.

“I know, I know,” he said with a soft grunt. “Come for me, pretty thing. Come.” And you did. Hard, all consumingly. It hurt so good that you almost blacked out, but he kept going, doing his damnedest to overstimulate you.

“Ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart. Ain’t even close,” he told you, pulling you off of him and sitting, legs swung over the edge of the bed, feet planted on the ground. He grabbed you, letting you straddle his lap before slamming you down on his length. At this angle he could get impossibly deeper, his dick easily reaching your cervix on every thrust. You screamed, holding onto him for dear life with your face buried in his neck.

“Gonna fill you until you’re full, and then some,” he promised, lifting you up and down, flexing that super strength. “Rub on that pretty clit for me, doll,” he asked. You tried, you really did, but you were just so sensitive.

“That’s okay, I’ll do everything for you, you just take it like a good slut,” he cooed, bringing a hand between the two of you and rutting on your clit without abandon. You came again with a wail of his name before he pistoned into you sloppily, finally spilling his own release into you. And it was messy, and you were far too full to keep going, but he doesn’t care, somehow still hard even though he had just painted your walls with his thick, sticky cum.

You were babbling at this point, raking your nails against him as he kept going to town on your cunt.

“It’s just been too long, baby,” he explained, kissing the side of your head. “Got a little too much energy.” Yeah no shit, with the way that you knew that you were not going to be able to walk.

But he just couldn’t seem to shut up. “Y’know, if I had you back in my day we would’ve had ten kids. You would’ve give birth to one and then I’d put another one in you the next month,” he said as he continued his brutal pace. And damn, this man really had a breeding kink. It was not really your thing-kids tend to get in the way of careers, and also, you were infertile- but anything’s hot when it comes out of those plush lips with the 50s accent, so, naturally, you moan in response.

“Would’ve kept you sated all the time too, sweetheart. Any time you were hot and bothered, had an attitude… I’d fuck it out of you,” he murmured, enveloping you in his arms to hold you closer. You didn’t know if it’s the proximity to him, his voice, or the way that he hasn’t really let you come down from any of your highs, but suddenly you were coming again… just in a different way.

“Aww baby, did you just squirt?” he chuckled. You did all you can to further hide your face in his neck as he just kept going, only concious enough to register your embarrassment and fatigue. He pulls you by your hair to look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart, that was so hot.” You smiled, cheeks pink, your somehow still horny self proud of his compliment.

“It’s okay, just give me one more and you’ll be done, alright?”

“O-okay,” you say shakily. You hadn’t even noticed hot much your legs were quivering until then, and he laughed, squeezing them close.

“You’re so cute, y’know that?” he praised, rubbing your clit. Your blush became even more furious before you came again at him tracing patterns into your poor, overstimulated, sensitive bud. He came in you shortly after with a very sexy grunt, and it was just leaking out of you, going all over the tops of his thighs. He held you at the base of his cock though, not ready to pull out.

“You alright, Dollface?” he asked, gingerly moving- somehow while keeping his cock in you- you onto your back. You nodded, sleepiness overtaking you.

“Good girl,” he nuzzled your nose, gifting you the view of all of the pretty freckles on his cheeks looking like gold specs. You whined as he pulls out, and he tutted, plugging you up with his fingers.

“Don’t tempt me, sweetheart. If you were a supe we’d be going another ten rounds, but I know you’re tired,” he warned, cock still semi-hard.

“Ben,” you gestured towards it, unsure what you were going to say because as much as you wish you had his stamina, you didn’t.

“It’ll be fine, sweets,” he shrugged it off. “Perks of the unbelievable stamina.” He kissed your forehead, before lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of you in attempt to keep the cum in. Pitiful tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes from the overstimulation.

“There, there,” he cooed, kissing them away. “Just don’t want to waste any,” he smirked, before leaving his long, thick fingers where they were inside you, all the way up to the knuckle. Your legs can’t stop shaking, and you try to talk but you can’t.

“Let me get you some water, put your fingers here for me,” he said, waiting until you do so, feeling your sticky release on your hand. You knew damn well that you werenot going to be able to stand.

“Here, sweets,” he returned, still ass naked, holding a glass, taking your fingers out of your cunt and licking them clean. “We taste real good, sugar.” You whimpered, ready to go at it again, abused pussy be damned. Speaking of, the poor cleaning staff… your mixed releases were dripping out of your poor hole, coating the bed and the bottom of your thighs in the stickiness.

“You really are an insatiable little minx,” he chuckled, holding you up so you can take a sip of the water. You obliged, eagerly chugging it down.

“I’m not going to be able to walk,” you muttered, resting your head on his freckled shoulders.

“Looks like you’re going to need to stick around, so I can take care of you,” he squeezed you.

“I’ll tell Hughie to take another hour, tell him that the therapy’s going real well,” you suggested.

“Oh yeah, real well. Definitely a happy ending, if you catch my drift.”

“Multiple happy endings.”

“Atta girl,” he kisses the top of your head.

You sat there in silence for a bit, basking in the afterglow as he rocked you back and fourth gently.

You’d seen so many sides to this man: Misogynistic, quick tempered, sex-god… but sweetness? This was the one that surprised you. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“Ben?” you broke the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Uh, I could help you, y’know. If you want, anyway. And it wouldn’t even be proper therapy- you know, cause we just- yeah.” your words were shaky but you meant them. There was something about the supe that made you think that maybe, just maybe you could help him.

“I dunno, sweets. I think I’m a little too far gone.”

Vulnerability. That’s progress.

“Could you at least try?”

“I can’t say no to you,” he said. And you’d take him up on that.

••••••••••••A Couple Years Later••••••••••••

Ben Johnson, as he was now known, ended up becoming a normal member of society. After a LOT of work, he’s grown into himself. He cares about people, his ego’s lessened, his temper too. You had helped him through the whole way- gotten him a proper therapist and everything. And now you two were a couple who could just go out and get donuts, and do normal couple things.

“They’re cream-filled!” he beams boyishly, his bangs in his face and his eyes sparkling. He sets the box down in front of you, somehow having already gotten powdered sugar in his beard. He leans in and whispers excitedly, “you know, like you!”

“You’re bad,” you giggle, as if you don’t have him leaking out of you where you sit. You had stopped for a quickie before you made it to the donut shop, it wasn’t your fault that you were so irresistible to each other.

“Not anymore, sweetheart,” he winks with a click of the tongue. Which is true- there’s a certain softness to him these days. His jaw isn’t so set, the crow’s feet by his eyes have deepened. He isn’t so volatile, his tempers dissolved a bit. He’s become more human.

Not to mention that he’s made great progress in apologizing to his victims and making amends to the best of his ability. It may never be enough, but now that he has someone to teach him how to be right and a better understanding of the complexities of the modern world, there’s a chance. And that’s a chance worth taking, to help someone who could’ve been good become good.

Taming Soldier Boy was a feat that should have been impossible, but you had nailed it.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hope you enjoyed this fic! If you have any ideas for headcanons or fics, my ask box is always open! I don’t bite- not unless you want me too 😏 (so. So. Sorry 😭)

Xx!

[thesirencult]

Pick A Card Reading: Your Soulmate's Letter To Santa About You 💌

PILE 1

Dear Santa,

I want to thank you for my gift from last year, lol. She is amazing.

She makes me happy and puts a smile on my face. Sometimes I smile so hard my cheeks burn.

I've never felt happier in my life.

The way she talks, the way she moves, the way her eyes brighten up when she looks at a puppy or a piece of chocolate pie, they all drive me wild.

I want to be there for her, this Christmas and every other Christmas after this one. I want to buy her a house as a gift and a ring to go with it, maybe even a car? She doesn't like to drive that much but my baby has to have everything she wants.

What she wants she will get. I love her. I adore her. She owns my heart and soul. I'm proudly whipped.

Thank you Santa, I'll take care of her heart ❤️

~ Your soulmate is a provider. They must be a "golden retriever" type of person. I'm hearing "here comes the boy!". When you first meet them you won't expect to fall so hard for them. They have a compatible sense of humour with you.

PILE 2

Hey Santa Baby,

Am I in the naughty list? Great!

This year I put up with no bs and I said "bye" to everything that held me back. I let go of the old stories and left the world behind.

Well, not the whole world, because I met that special someone and they are amazing. I'm writing down my goals for next year and I want one of them to be to deepen my relationship with my soulmate.

I know that they are special, I'm not crazy! I consciously make the choice to commit to them. I feel like we are twin flames and can not wait to explore they way their mind works.

I want to help them unlock their potential. They are a force to be reckoned with and they don't even know it.

Bye, for now!

~ Your FS (yup, they are) is someone who could very well be a motivational speaker or a content creator in that space. They love doing challenges like 75 hard and lighting up other people's fire. They could also be an athlete or ex athlete. You will love this person's practical nature and approach in life. This person is also very spiritual and they probably have heard of Ayahuasca and other popular terms etc. They remind me of a Tech Founder in silicon valley who is I'm woowoo stuff (no worries, I'm the woo woo stuff).

PILE 3

Santa,

I'm ready to move on from this year. My faith is stronger than ever before.

I've wished for so many things in the last few years. Many of them manifested into my life but one thing still hasn't showed up yet and I'm very bumped because of that.

Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for the life I live and lead. I have almost everything I've wished for but that almost is killing me.

I know she is out there. I've felt her energy before. Since I was a child, whenever I looked up to the stars, I felt this overwhelming connection with someone. This invisible string tagging at my heart at all times. No one has ever made me feel this way and I know that it is unfair to say that for my previous partners but I miss her. I miss someone I've never met. Can you please bring her to me this year? I don't want anything else but my love to come back to me in this lifetime.

I know that the time to meet her is coming. I can feel it, but make it as fast as you can. Please.

I have a lot of goals for the year, especially financial ones. I'll try to focus on them until she comes. Where is she? Where is my love?

I will know she is here when I lay my eyes on her. My heart will speed up and the world as I know it will shutter. Shutter my world darling. I don't care. I made that world by myself and it is time we build our own world together.

P.S. Send loving energy to my soulmate, they need it. Tell them I will buy them their gift myself next year, but for now... This, sadly, has to do.

~ Awww your soulmate is very sweet and... depressed! They don't show it to anyone though but when they are alone at night they drink a glass of wine and think about you. They would want you to be there.

This person is very, stoic and "protected". That give me "military" vibes even if they have nothing to do with the military. This inability to outwardly express their feelings. You will baby them a lot and it is going to look comical but they will love it. Your FS might be older and taller than you and people will laugh when they see how much of a baby they become around your presence. They are very tired of being lonely. Don't get me wrong, this is not someone mopping around, they are just a "closeted" romantic. They hide their true feelings and you will know they love you because they will do acts of service for you or you will catch micro expressions. As soon as you enter in an official relationship they won't be able to keep their hands away from you.

[dulcewrites]

ewan in the saltburn trailer is j sooo giving private school filthy rich aemond i love it

AND YES HE NEEDS HIS POC GF

I have been feeling…. less than inspired lately about hotd tbh but hopefully this will spark something. I know no one asked for this lol. This was inspired by Beyoncé’s Upgrade U. Honestly, I don't think Aemond would be much of a loser in a modern setting. He would be far too elusive and people would find him interesting simply based on that. But I am combining/changing some lore here so he is a #loser in this like I am assuming Ewan's character is Saltburn is.

Upgrade You

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x rich!reader (wc: 2k)

Summary: You have always enjoyed having a project to build or fix up and Aemond Targaryen is no different

You flick a spoolie brush over your brows as you finished up your makeup. The lights from your vanity mirror illuminating you as you put the last touches on your face.

"I don't get it," Melanie sighed as she hugged one of your pillows to her chest. She sat crossed legged on your California king bed. "You're like the smartest person I know. Why do you need to be tutored?"

"Everyone can improve themselves, no matter what someone's specialty may be. Remember that."

Melanie nodded enthusiastically. Sweet girl, you think. A little daft at times but nothing some time under your guidance cannot fix.

She tilts her head curiously. "You are pretty dressed up for a library meeting too."

"Another lesson," you fluff your curls then turn from the mirror to her. "Do not let anyone tell you that you are overdressed. Does the library have a dress code?"

Melanie shakes her head slowly.

"So, who is going to tell me to change?"

"... No one?"

"Exactly."

Melanie chews on her lip in thought as if she is taking mental notes in her head. Though she is not wrong you are quite dressed up just to be studying. But your advice was also not wrong; any moment to be noticed should be taken and made the most of. If are to come into contact with any of your peers, why not make the best impression possible. You also do not have in it in you to tell your new pupil about the real reason as to why you were making this little trip. Best move through life with your cards close to your chest as your mother tells you. You can only imagine how wide Melanie's hazel eyes would get if you told her what you had up your sleeve.

Much like how you help the girls around you cultivate their futures, you must look out for your own as well. Your phone dings, and you smile when you check the notification.

Aemond Targaryen.

Archaic, some would say. Sending the feminist movement back 50 years, many could argue. Being realistic is more how you would put it. You have money, sure. Your parents have afforded you all the opportunities they wanted you to have, and for that you are grateful. But you are not naive; this is still very much a man's world. No matter how much money you have, there will be people who will look at you and hate you for having the gall to want more. For having ideas and wanting to express them. For looking the way, you do - for using the way you look against them.

You may not be able to have a seat at the table... but you can have someone build another for you.

Your family may have resources and money. But they do not have 'my father can use company family buy his way into politics; my mom has ancestry that traces back to French royalty' reach.

Luckily for you, there is someone who does have that access.

A little rough around the edges, but nothing some TLC cannot fix. It was one of your best traits: finding the diamonds in the rough and polishing them off so they shine brighter than before.

You go over to your closet and open the double doors. As your eyes search over the different handbags, you call out back to Melanie.

"Watercolor Dior saddle or creme Bottega Jodie?"

"Dior," she calls back.

You check yourself in the mirror before existing the closet.

"Well," you twirl for Melanie. You run hand over your midi turtleneck dress. You knee length boots clanked around as you moved in a circle.

"Perfect," she beams.

She sees you out to your car. With the window rolled down, she waves you off like a mother seeing their child off for kindergarten.

"Happy studying!"

Sweet and simple, just how you like em.

———

You always thought the best thing about Oxford was how it looked in the fall. The leaves begun to change, sprite green to a blend of red, orange, purple, and brown. Made the most picturesque background. But it seemed like how gently the leaves fell from the trees was the only thing that was coming easily.

Maybe it was naivety on your part, but you thought when you showed up in four-inch patent leather Aquazzura heels and literally no books, Aemond would have got the hint. And yet, here you were talking about the components of stockholder’s equity, as if you cared.

"So," you interrupt him mid rant. "Any fun plans for Winter break? I know it is a while away, but everyone is already taking about what they are doing."

He wrinkles his nose, his glasses being pushes up in the process. "Probably just dinner with the family."

Right. The compound. At least that is what the Targaryen main home looks like. You of course needed to your research.

"Well, there is this crazy Christmas that happens before everyone leaves," you shuffle closer to him, and you hope he gets a whiff of your perfume. "Maybe we can go together?"

Aemond snorts and looks down bit sheepishly. "Highly doubt, I am invited."

You fight the urge to sigh wistfully. Cute, smart, wealthy as fuck... and apparently awfully insecure. Everyone throwing the party should be falling at their knees to have him around. But you have since understood during your time at Oxford that many students here do not understand the opportunities in front of them.

If Aemond had any real confidence, he'd say fuck it because he could buy everyone going if he wanted to. They ignore him because he allows them to. And then you realize he is one of those people; the delusional 'I want to get by on my merit not my name' kind of people.

Oh sweet, silly boy.

"That doesn't matter," you wave him off. "Besides, if anyone says anything, you can just say you're with me. Consider it a thank you for doing this for me."

You let your hand slip on his thigh and squeeze slightly.

"Better yet, let's call it a date."

Rhaenyra would think for the amount of money her family has; they would be able to afford stronger liquor. But she has a feeling that it has nothing to do with money, and more about the 'champagne only' rule Alicent liked.

The expansive backyard was decorated impeccably, as it always is for the annual holiday party that they throw. Twinkly lights in the trees, red and green everywhere, and even a frankly nouveau riche ice sculpture. The affair was black tie, and Rhaenyra could feel the eyes of some guess when she showed up in a red fitted suit. Taking small sips from her glass, she looks around the area. She swears the more years go on, the less she recognizes who is invited to things like this.

"Don't tell me step-mommy has put you in timeout."

She rolls her eyes when she hears a familiar voice. Daemon comes to stand next to her, with a small glass in his hand.

"No, you fucker," Rhaenyra then frowns. "Where did you get the scotch?"

"Why do you think I am in timeout?"

Her uncle always found a way around the rules. Rhaenyra blows air out of her cheeks in annoyance. She looks down at her watch; another rule is that they were required to stay at 2 hours. Only 45 minutes has passed since she arrived.

"Heard you are going to the company retreat this year," Daemon downs the rest of the drink and winces at the burning.

"Someone has to represent the family with dad," she shrugs, a small amount of smugness seeping into her tone. "He asked me to go."

"Hmmm," Daemon smirks at her smugness. "You and Aemond."

Rhaenyra blinks confused. "What?"

"Yup," he leans against the wall. "I suppose Viserys found a new muse."

Rhaenyra snorts at his words but then licks her lips nervously. It sounds cruel to think, but it was never something she ever really worried about - her father preferring her siblings over her. At least not something she worried about in her adulthood. Sure, as a girl, newly off the passing of her mother, seeing her father marry a woman only six years her senior rattled her. Aegon being born shortly after only made things more tense. But, and to his own detriment really, Viserys had made sure she came first.

"I did not know Aemond had an interest in the company in the first place."

"He didn't," Daemon's mouth pinches a little. "Not until... recently."

Rhaenyra follows her uncle's gaze out to where Aemond was standing. He always managed to look more grow up than his sibling, more than Helaena and Aegon. A mimicry that Rhaenyra thinks he picked up from his mother, but something seemed different now.

New haircut, no glasses, new suit. Armani? No, Tom Ford. With a Cartier tie clip and sparking cuff links to match. He is surrounded by some of the lawyers that work at the company.

"Looks like university has done him well," Rhaenyra tries to sound as even keeled as possible. "Good for him."

"No," Daemon sounds bored with her strained pleasantries. "That is what pussy does someone who has never got any before."

Rhaenyra blanches. The last thing she wants to think about is her younger brother having sex. She sets her champagne down in disgust.

"Don't be gross."

Daemon huffs before directing his attention towards the other side of the courtyard. His eyes zero in on Alicent, who tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder as she laughs with a young woman. A pretty young woman.

"Only met this semester and managed to get a holiday party invite, and a seat next to mother dearest. She must some charmer."

"You know," Rhaenyra starts. "Not every woman that is around this family is some sort of ruthless social climber."

"Of course, not every woman. Only the smart ones."

She sighs. That was not just pointed at the girl, but at Alicent too. Even though Alicent grew up with an even cushier life than they did. A type of old money that even the Targaryens had to give credence to. Strangely enough, Daemon seemed to take Viserys remarrying worse than Rhaenyra did. Even Rhaenyra over the years has grown to accept the fate that is their blended family. Accepted it enough to be cordial, albeit sometimes still awkward, with Alicent. They have forever been bonded in having to deal with the moods that come with Viserys Targaryen. But Daemon... it seems like he has never forgiven his brother for the act of moving on. He seemed to only grow more jaded since the divorce from Laena.

"How do you even know this?"

"Aemond told Aegon who told Helaena who told Rhaena who told Baela who told me."

Rhaenyra breaks her gaze from the two women. "Keeping tabs on your nephew that you barely speak to?"

Daemon gave her an empty smile. Almost a little cruel like he would crush her like a bug if it would not so pitiful. "You naive little thing. When you figure things out, let me know."

Rhaenyra wants to ask him what he means by that, but Daemon pushes himself off the wall he was leaning against to leave Rhaenyra alone.

Alone was a feeling she was used to. Rhaenyra often found solace in the loneliness that she found herself stuck in. If she did not find comfort in it, it would swallow her whole. Jaw unhinged and bloodthirsty.

Her eyes went back to the where Alicent and the girl were sitting, but Helaena seemed to replace the girl's place to speak with her mother. Instead of getting chummy with Alicent, the mystery woman had gone over to Aemond. Rhaenyra felt a little queasy watching them. Like watching two little dolls or those silly little cake toppers people get. Picture perfect like the stock photos that came in picture frames.

She shook her head at herself with an internal laugh. Here she was picking apart her baby brother's seemingly first real relationship; she was no better than Daemon if she did that. It was she told herself when she watched one of the wives of the company's lawyers come up to the girl and give her kiss on the cheek. Like they were old family friends.

Rhaenyra suddenly finds herself straightening out her jacket and her heels moving across the outdoor area. Might as well introduce herself... as a kind sister figure, of course.

She has a funny feeling she will be seeing this girl around more often.

[sailoryooons]

Okay hear me out, but maybe a little bit of enemies to lovers, little bit of smutty goodness between witch hunter!yoongi and witch!reader?? Idk why this popped in my head but I’m kind of desperate to see a little something now lol.

Also, I love you ❤️

❀ Pairing: Witch hunter!Yoongi x f. witch!reader

❀ Summary: For years, you and Yoongi have played cat and mouse. It’s his duty to rid the world of witches, but he always finds a new excuse to let you slip through his fingers. When you find yourself at his mercy, you wonder if the great witch hunter will finally end your game of chase, or if there’s something that will stay his hand. 

❀ Word Count: 4188 

❀ Genre: Urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, a hint of angst, smut

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: On screen character death (not permanent though), depictions of blood and intense action sequences, scary demon thing, depiction of weapons, hints at violence between two groups of people, mild world building, a bit of angst, explicit language, explicit sexual content featuring light nipple play, unprotected vaginal sex, emotional sex, a lot of spit, UNEDITED. 

❀ Published: August 3, 2023

❀ A/N: I don’t know why I thought I’d be able to control myself with some of these ideas because god dammit Sarah, I want to turn this into more than ~4k of a work. Like this idea inspired me so much, you have no idea how insane I wanted to go on this but I had to CONTROL MYSELF because I promised that this year I would keep it tame. I love you so much and I’m so sorry that this is like 90% plot and 10% smut but I kept inching toward 5k and I was like I HAVE GOT TO STOP MYSELF JESUS CHRIST and dkfgjdiogjfoigjg I am telling you right now, I want to come back and revisit this fic and makie it like a four chapter thing or something because GOD I LOVED THIS IDEA AND YOU KNEW JUST WHAT TO REQUEST. Also this is unedited!!!!

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust | Song Inspiration |

Most nights, Yoongi dreams of you. He knows better, and yet he can’t help himself. It’s like you’re living under his skin, a virus that has taken root in the marrow of his bones. He doesn’t know how he would dig you out if he tried.

If he tried. 

If anyone from the Conclave knew the dangerous game that Yoongi is playing, he would be ousted or killed. Killing would be the mercy, but he’s garnered enough hate within the elite members of the Conclave to know they’d rather him suffer cut off from his resources. His friends. His family. 

Still, Yoongi walks a dangerous line. He knows it’s wrong, letting a witch infect him like a sickness. He is sure that he’s under your spell. There’s no other explanation for the way he always lets you slip away. For the way he closes his eyes and imagines the flutter of your heart against his, the sound of your gasps, the warmth of your hands.

Stars explode behind Yoongi’s eyes as he presses the heels of his hands into them. He’s exhausted, limbs heavy and sore from a day of bloody work. The activity downtown has only worsened the last few months, making Yoongi hunt multiple times a day and return home banged up. 

The pain he can handle. Witches and their demons are nothing new to him. But he knows there’s something he’s missing, something lurking beneath the surface of the increased activity and the strong demonic presence in the city.

Yoongi knows he could ask you. He’s thought about it a few times over the last few weeks but he’s talked himself out of it each time. The curiosity has always lingered there, waiting for him to ask in those moments where you cross his path, coy and sharp as ever. In the minutes you linger, shooting him insults he thinks you don’t mean and playing little word games. 

He doesn’t ask, though. And you never offer, despite the fact that your sharp eyes and knowing smirk lead him to believe you know he wants to ask. 

Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t. Not giving you what you want is part of the fun. He likes the way it makes you bristle, magic crackling at your fingertips. He loves the way it makes you narrow your eyes at him, lobbing empty threats that make him want to purr. 

Whatever this effect you have on him is potent. He can’t shake you off, can’t outrun you. 

And worse, he doesn’t want to.

Rain begins to beat on the bedroom window outside. Though his limbs are heavy from slogging through the sewer system downtown after a witch and her ivax demon, he’s a little too keyed up to sleep. Yoongi senses something staticy in the air, an energy that he can’t name.

Opening up his phone, he flips through his text threads with members of the Conclave. It seems everyone is in it tonight, the demonic activity buzzing and the monsters worse than usual. He frowns when he sees Seokjin mention a prowler crawling through the warehouse district. Yoongi knows that’s where you live and an unexpected sense of unease slivers down his spine.

He locks his phone and tosses it on the bed. He doesn’t need to worry about you. You’re one of the most skilled witches in the city and you’ve killed scores of demons and others alike. He should remove your head for the number of hunters you’ve put in the ground, but you’ve killed triple that in witches. 

Which is why you’re alone. It’s not lost on Yoongi that you’re a witch without a coven and with unusual alliances living in a warehouse all alone with a prowler on the loose. If you know it’s there - you have to know it’s there, being you - he knows you’ll go after it. 

“Fuck,” he sighs at the ceiling. 

Grabbing his phone, Yoongi sends off a quick text. 

Yoongi: Anyone dispatching to take care of the prowler?

Councilman Haer: Negative. The Conclave will not be dispatching. The Warehouse District is not critical and it’ll go back down after it’s satiated. Prowlers aren’t controlled by witches, it might even take a few out for us.

Yoongi stomach flips as he squeezes his phone tight before getting up. He’s tired of the Conclave’s inaction. He knows he’ll get in trouble for going after something so dangerous without backup, but he can’t ask Seokjin and Hoseok to back him up on this one. Not unauthorized, and not for something so dangerous. 

Unsanctioned hunts is exactly how Yoongi has ended up at the bottom of the pool among Conclave members, but he doesn’t care. Politics can’t erase the fact that he’s the best fucking hunter in the city, and no councilman who won’t get their hands dirty can give him grief for doing what needs to be done.

This isn’t about the Conclave, though. Yoongi knows it. Seokjin would know it, if Yoongi told him what he was doing. But the thought of a prowler tearing through the low-income streets in the Warehouse District doesn’t resonate with him. Neither does knowing that you are one of the witches in the line of fire. 

Yoongi dresses and arms himself with military proficiency. A black, long-sleeved shirt with a form-fitted leather vest over it to prevent most stabs and cuts, knives sheathed along the ribbing of the vest, breathable pants with a tactical belt and pockets full of hunting necessities, and his necklace with the Conclave helix. 

At the last second, he grabs a jacket and pulls the hood up to keep the beating rain from soaking him through. While he has some talent with magic to help him heal faster and make his blows stronger and faster, he’s not skilled in the way of weather or anything advanced enough to keep him dry and comfortable. 

Nervousness settles into him as he takes the subway to the Warehouse District. It’s not far, but the train is empty and filled with dirty puddles left behind from passengers. Lights flicker above as the subway rockets unevening on the tracks, making him dizzy. 

When he steps off the train and into the wet underground of the station entrance, he knows something is amiss. His fingers twitch as he jogs up the steps, boots splashing loudly as the rain comes down. Wind whips at him here and when he hears a crack of thunder too loud and rumbling to be human, his instincts kick in.

Yoongi takes off running. He knows where your warehouse-turned-loft is. He’d originally scouted it out to eliminate you. Now, it’s something he’s always kept an eye on, steering other hunters away from your home. It’s silly, he knows. You’d call him weak if you knew, probably. And yet he does it, diverting danger coming your way when he can.

Now, danger is already there. 

The storm rages harder as he heads your direction. Wind pushes at him, making Yoongi lock his muscles as he fights the freezing cold rain and the debris that blows down the street with the force of the storm. He hopes that it keeps people indoors and away from the prowler. 

But Yoongi sees the purple lighting lance out of the sky, an explosion of radiant beauty for a moment before it strikes nearby, blowing transforms into white sparks and he realizes what is so uncanny about this storm. 

It’s you. You’re the storm. 

A roar of rage shakes the air as he comes around the corner to your street. The warehouse you live in is at the end of the road right up against the bay. The wind is mixed with salt spray, stinging his eyes as he runs towards the shadowy outline of your building, nearly impossible to see in the rain and night.

Yoongi manages to roll one of the heavy doors open to your loft, muscles screaming with effort. Stepping inside, chaos greets him. The ceiling is blown out above your home, rain pouring in from the sky. It tastes like lightning and blood. No doubt your storm is what ripped the ceiling apart, but when he sees the prowler, he doesn’t blame you. 

A massive creature stands ten feet tall, rippling with leathered hide and spikes on its back. Long, gangly limbs drag on the floor with black, sharpened talons on the end of each of its three fingers. The prowler walks awkwardly and Yoongi notes the scorch mark in its left shoulder, making it lean as it drags itself toward its intended target. 

Which is you, laying on the ground bloody and rain soaked. Yoongi doesn’t even think. He has no idea if you’re conscious or not, but he’s moving across the room, putting power into his step as he pulls out two of his daggers and jumps high up into the air. 

Yoongi’s intent is to land on the back of the prowler and sink each blade in as he falls. He doesn’t anticipate the demon to turn away from bloodied prey, but it does, swinging its arm wildly to bat him away. He’s lucky that the forearm catches him in the stomach and sends him flying and not the flaws.

Closing his eyes and bracing for impact, Yoongi is surprised when he doesn’t slam into a wall. He opens his eyes to see himself floating toward the floor, suspended briefly before the phantom energy drops him gently. He lands with shock, looking up to where you’re sitting up, one hand extended toward him.

At least you weren’t out cold or dead. Yoongi is really happy that you’re not dead, but it’s cut short as the prowler charges him. 

This time, Yoongi’s ready. He runs at the beast, waiting until he’s right outside of the window of its swiping claws before he dives to his knees, sliding under the creature and between its legs. He twists his hands, cutting the inside of the creature’s thighs as he goes.

It shrieks, shaking the building and scattering Yoongi’s thoughts. He feels fizzy and confused for a moment, the mind breaking scream of the prowler enough to make him vulnerable. He feels a hand on his face and he looks up, momentarily stricken with the thought that he sees an angel. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, and he recognizes your voice. Usually it cracks like a whip, but this is soft. Strange. It terrifies him. “I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me. Just know that I liked our game, Hunter.”

“What are you doing, Witch?”

Your smile is like the sun. He doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful. Your face is covered in blood and rain, turning your neck scarlet as it runs. There’s a gash above your brow and he sees a blackened wound in your stomach. 

It is amazing, how a creature like you, bred to be an evil, wicked thing can look radiant. Holy. Wonderful. Your hand is cradling his face and it feels warm, despite the rain and blood on your hands. Your thumb is soft as it sweeps across his cheek, a touch more reverent than he’s ever known. 

“Witch,” Yoongi starts, unsure what you’re doing. 

“I’ll miss that. Take this.” 

Before Yoongi can react, your hand falls from his face. You move past him with absolute confidence, lifting your chin. You have a limp as you do, and Yoongi reaches after you but you’re already out of his grip.

Something stirs in the air. He’s only felt power rippling like that once before when he was a child, and the entire Conclave worked together to slaughter an Eldritch Witch that had attacked them and taken out more than half of their hunters.

Now, Yoongi feels that dark presence again, energy buzzing against his ears as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. The prowler senses the power disturbance too, backing away from you as dark particles begin to gather around your hands.

Above you, the rain hovers, disrupted by the frequency of your magic. The buzz in Yoongi’s ears gets louder as he climbs to his feet, clapping his hands firmly over his ears, wincing as it gets higher and louder. He thinks it might burst his ear drums or crack his skull open. 

Disks of dark particles circle you as you approach the demon, which is now roaring once more, trying to disrupt your thoughts. It doesn’t work, the air vibrating with dark matter. You’re at the center of the swirling darkness, the rings rotating around you like an access.

The sound stops suddenly, and for a moment, Yoongi thinks he’s deaf. Black matter pulses from you, exploding outward. Yoongi hits the floor, realizing if he gets hit with your magic, he’ll die. Never before has he witnessed the Eldritch Blast of a witch, but he knows that it's only used as a final stand.

I’m going to do something that is probably going to kill me. 

The finality of your words shreds him open as the shockwave of your magic barrels at him. He thinks he’s going to die as it expands toward him, but instead, it arches over him, battling down against a magical barrier. 

Take this. Yoongi realizes you’ve warded him from your destruction, keeping him safe as your blast levels the world around you. He feels the magic beating down on your ward like raging fits, vibrating and shrieking under the pressure of the magic. 

It even keeps him from being injured by the collapsing debris. 

Yoongi looks at you as the world falls to pieces. You go down to one knee, then the other, swaying as the darkness cascades around you in a final flutter of power. Then you fall over, heavy and unmoving as the rest of the building comes down. 

All he can do is scream.

-

Most nights, you dream of Yoongi. You don’t know when it started - perhaps that first night after you met him? You can’t be sure. All you know is that at some point, the hunter poisoned you from the inside out, a disease taking root and rotting you all the way through to your core. 

You always knew that dreaming of him would get you killed one day. But Yoongi was different. Wiser than the rest of his wretched Conclave. Smart enough to question his way of life and his faction’s merciless killings. You think he’ll start asking the right questions soon, that maybe he’ll start seeing the signs that who he has sworn loyalty to isn’t who they say they are.

But Yoongi never asks questions. 

It’s easy to tell he wants to. There’s always that little pause at the end of your meetings. You used to think it was perhaps he was trying to decide whether or not to kill you. Perhaps it was that at first, but now it’s something a little different. A little more. Like he is on the edge of finally asking you what exactly is going on in the city that he protects from monsters.

Yoongi is simple, though. He likes his little life tucked away in the Art District and he likes the wash, rinse, repeat of killing demons and corrupted witches nightly. You think he likes your little run-ins.

Now, you’ve finally paid the price of letting him live these last two years. Had someone told you before you’d met Yoongi that you’d sacrifice yourself for him and the rest of a small neighborhood, you’d have laughed in their face. You weren’t a hero, though some might think slaying your own kind and their creatures was worth praise. 

Penance and praise are not the same, though. 

Dying seems like a good way of paying off your list of wrongs. Especially to save Yoongi. If only to save Yoongi, if you were being honest. 

Witches have a lot of lore about death and where one goes in the afterlife. You’re not sure where you are, if you exist, or if you’re even really a thought. It feels like nothingness and everything all at once, a void of floating consciousness. There’s no pain, but you remember the warehouse. Remember the prowler ripping down the door and coming for you specifically. 

And him. You remember Yoongi coming in, looking like a fucking angel of old as he leapt through the skies. Together you might have taken on the beast. But prowlers are notoriously difficult to destroy, and you were in no shape to protect Yoongi, much less fight by his side as a reliable partner. 

That left you with one option, and though you knew it would end you, you’d done it anyway.

Yoongi’s face swims in your mind. Soft and round, eyes like the bottom of the ocean, a single pink scar carved through his right eye. Mouth soft and petal pink, hair silky and dark, reaching to his shoulders. He’s small for a hunter but he’s strong and broad, his mind his best weapon. 

Witch, Yoongi had said. The last words you’d hear from him, spoken with a softness that you’ve never heard from him before. Rain-soaked and wide eyed Yoongi, looking at you like you held the flame of life, like you were something more than a creature on the other side of the trench. 

The best thing you could do for him was die.

So you summoned your magic from deep within you, that ancient, sleeping thing. You try not to think about what Yoongi’s last memory of you will be, an eldritch horror that will remind him of the creature that slaughtered his family as a child. 

Yoongi will never get to ask his questions. You’ll never get to tell him why you haunt the streets killing your own kind. Yoongi will never know the softness of your kiss. You’ll never know the gentle press of his hands. 

Something brushes across your forehead. You feel now and you frown. Or can you frown, in whatever plane of death this is? You’re not sure, but you feel… the weight of your own body. The beating of your own heart. The rush of air through your lungs as you breathe.

Awareness prickles at the back of your neck like a needle. Slowly, you begin to feel solid. Your fingers twist in soft sheets, and when you turn your head, you feel the plushness of a pillow. Smell petrichor and cedar. 

It smells like… Yoongi. 

“Hmmm?” you feel the vibration in your throat at your unspoken question, nothing but a rumble of noise and confusion. Something cradles your face. “Hunnn..?”

A deep, throaty laugh. “Mmm, I take care of you for a week straight and we’ve moved on to endearments?” 

Your eyes flutter open, lids heavy. The world swims into view, a little blurry as your eyes try to focus in the dimly lit room, taking in the bed you’re in and the face hovering above yours. 

“Yoongi,” you breathe, your heart expanding with unfettered joy. 

“That’s the first time you’ve ever said my name.”

“What?”

“Say it more often.” He leans forward and you watch as his dark eyes drink you in. “And never do that to me again.”

Before you can ask him what that is, Yoongi’s mouth is pressing against yours. You melt immediately, going boneless in a bed you’re unfamiliar with, lost in the citrusy taste of his mouth and the gentle press of his lips. His kiss is soft soft soft, blurring reality as he pulls at your bottom lip teasingly before pulling away.

Eyes fluttering open, you stare at him in wonder. He hovers above your face, haloed by inky-black hair. “Yoongi.”

He smiles. “It sounds much better than hunter. Hun can stay, though.”

“You’re not calling the shots.”

“You’re in no condition to fight me.”

“I killed a prowler, I think you’re no problem.”

His eyes glow. “I think perhaps you’re right. But for now, you’re at my mercy.”

“Kiss me again.” You lift your hands and bring them toward his face, brushing a finger over the bottom of his scar. “And don’t stop this time. I’ll ask my questions later.”

“Of course, witch.” 

Yoongi’s kiss is hungrier now. Desperate. Full of all the questions he never asked and you meet him with equal fire. You don’t care that you’ve beat the odds and lived. You don’t care about anything else but the weight of Yoongi straddling your waist and the feel of his velvet soft skin beneath your hands. 

Every inch of him is warm, filled with the heat of the hunter’s fire that burns through every member of the Conclave. This hunter burns brighter than the rest, though. Warmth blooms where your fingers press over his stomach and chest, ridding him of his shirt. Fire burns where you grab his arms, arching into him as his teeth skim your throat. 

You’ve never felt this in sync with someone, bodies twining together like you were made for one another. Yoongi’s hand is scorching as his touch ghosts down your body, his touch light and teasing as he lowers his mouth to your hardened nipple, catching it and giving a gentle suck.

Honey-dipped moans slip from your mouth. Yoongi’s mouth is wet-hot against your skin, tongue laving hungrily as his hand seeks the heat between your legs. Your thighs open for him easily, giving Yoongi access to the dripping mess of your folds. He curses when his fingers slide between your slit, gathering slick to circle his digits around your clit.

“Fuck,” you hiss, hips twitching. “Don’t bother. I can take you now. Want you now.”

“I told you that you were at my mercy.” You summon your magic, rattling his shelves. Yoongi leans over to your neglected nipple and plucks it with his teeth, making you squeal and shiver, pleasure rattling you. “Fine,” he agrees. “Greedy witch. Should have known.”

“Not greedy,” you shoot back as Yoongi sits up and sheds his pants. Your hands follow him, tracing the faint scars on his stomach, pressing against the muscle of his tapered hips. “I’ve waited for months for you to do something. To say something.”

“I’m not good at that.” 

You hum. “It takes me dying for you to take initiative?” 

“A lesson hard-learned and never to be repeated.”

Yoongi’s cock is hard, bobbing heavily as he shuffles you under him and presses your thighs open for him. The brown tip is sticky with precum, his shaft long and thick enough to make your cunt ache for him more.

“Nice cock,” you tease as he pumps himself, hand gliding and spreading his precum down his shaft.

He grunts. “Can’t wait to feel this fucking pussy,” he mutters, leaning forward and pressing the tip to your entrance. You make a breathy sound, eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure-pained stretch. “Think you can take it, witch?”

“Yes.”

Yoongi sinks in and you second-guess your statement for a second, but the stretch of his cock pressing you open feels good. Deliriously so, your back arching as he bottoms out. You feel him in your gut, deeper than anything ever before and you whine as he draws his hips back before snapping them forward, punching the breath from your lungs.

He sets a deep, hard pace. You grip his biceps, feeling the muscle flex in his arms. Every part of you is on fire, lit up from the closeness of your bodies as Yoongi leans down and melds your mouths together, continuing to fuck you so deep you know you’ll never forget what it feels like.

Every brush of his cock against your g-spot drives you mad. Every whisper of your name - your name, not witch - makes you shudder. His tongue is hungrily as it brushes against yours, his moans deep and throaty as your pussy grips him tight. 

“Fuck,” he pants, sliding a hand down your body to grab your thigh and hoist your leg higher. It changes the angle, making his stroke somehow deeper. Your eyes roll back and your head digs into the mattress as you fist at the sheets. “You can fucking take it.”

“Keep going.”

“As if i could fucking stop.” 

You never want him to stop. Fucking you, kisses you, teasing you, shadowing you as you take on the world. You want every part of your life colored with Yoongi. You want him to be a part of your mornings, your fights, your weaknesses, your strengths. You want to rile him up, needle him with little insults that get him going. Tease him to make him laugh and share that secret smile. 

Every moment has led to this. You don’t know how you never saw this outcome, here with him, crying out his name as your orgasm crests into an unstoppable force. When you come around him, it’s with his name in your mouth and so much need for him in your heart that you think you might explode with energy for a second time. 

After, when you’re wrapped in Yoongi and you feel his hunter’s skin blaze against you, sweat-slick skin pressed close, you think that finally, he’ll ask those questions. You’ll give him answers. 

“Don’t do that ever again, witch,” Yoongi warns. “I will follow you into death.” 

[sobasluuurp]

Ok. About Tenko.

I understand why so many people are angry that he's dead. I really do. I would've loved for him to live as well. I cried when he died.

However.

Just because he's dead doesn't mean his character has been handled poorly. In fact, all things considered, this ending (even though it makes me real fucking sad) makes the most sense for both his character and his story. Let me explain.

First and foremost, there's the matter of Shigaraki's characterization and arc. It goes without saying, but he's an angry, used, and abused child who grew up into an adult who wants nothing more than for everything to end. His goals have always been destructive to an extreme and honestly, the logical end to "let's destroy it all" is LITERALLY everything, including himself. He's also had absolutely zero agency since the moment his parents even thought of conceiving him, and has been struggling to become his own person since the beginning of his arc. He, against his abuser, who covets immortality and eternity.

What better a way for a person such as himself to assert his agency is there than to go out the way he did? To shift his focus away from the faceless masses and to the (similarly faceless, lol) abuser who caused his pain in the first place? To destroy the control AFO has held over him and prove to him that he was always his own person? To say, this is who you molded me into. And because I am who I am, I will now kill you, and take myself down with you, and be glad for it.

(and in the process, destroy the worldview AFO showed us in the Star and Stripe arc, that the ones who survive are the victors. AFO has completely and eternally lost, but Shigaraki is victorious to his last.)

It's his first moment of complete agency in his life -- acting entirely against anyone else's wishes for himself or his actions. And he uses it to do the one thing he's been itching for his whole life -- to destroy the source of his pain.

It's a negative character arc, in a way. It's not what any of us would've wanted for him. In a perfect world, he would be able to recover and readjust, building a life for himself and his found family in peace. He'd be able to experience life fully for the first time, and see that the world is not so bleak after all.

(I'm choking up just thinking about what's been lost. It's a fucking tragedy.)

But not every character arc gets to end happily. Sometimes people do slip through the cracks. That's always been what Shigaraki's character is about.

....and what every other member of the League's characters have been about.

Because here's the thing. The story of Shigaraki's life and death would be incomplete without his relationship to his found family. He's their leader. Their symbol. Their All Might.

Shigaraki's death is not the grimdark, fuck-the-audience, senseless kind of tragedy. He is a martyr, yes, but the people he stood for will in all likelihood survive. He died for the League. His life -- his existence -- brought them together, gave them purpose, and showed them a bright future. It is my steadfast belief that he will be the only death among the main villains. Because this is a story about saving to win, after all. And given that My Hero doesn't like to kill characters off too often and each one of them still has a path to recovery, I think it's a safe assumption to make. Especially since (especially in Toya's and Toga's cases) each of them had a moment of reconciliation at the end of their fights -- the kind of thing that can help them move forward.

And to be honest, we've known for a very, very long time that BNHA is the kind of anime that likes to turn old cliches on their heads. Kacchan did not become a villain during Kamino. La Brava's literal power of love was not enough to win the battle. Deku fought tirelessly to talk-no-jutsu Shigaraki into redemption, and while he did get through to him, he still couldn't save him after everything that happened. It's nuanced and messy in a way that I've come to expect from BNHA.

So yea, Shigaraki died. But Shigaraki also lived. Despite everything that AFO and Kotoro wanted from him (despite the fact that he was never meant to really be alive in the first place), he lived on his own terms and fought so that the people he cared about would be seen. Because he lived, the old world was destroyed, and from his ashes, a better one can be built. He achieved everything that no one thought he could, and reclaimed his life in the process. What better ending could you ask for a tragic character?

[miimo96]

Thoughts on My Adventures with Superman S2 FINALE

This has me kinda scared because Normally when this happens, it usually means 2 thing's; 1 this is either going to be Very long episode or 2, Somebody's going to die, and with the way the creator's have been teasing us with Tweets about Kara's demise, I'm guessing it's the ladder, and if that's the case WTF DC

Also if had a nickel for everytime that a Giant spaceship threatened to Destroy Earth as a way to Rebuild krypton in a Superman story, I'd have 2 nickels, which isn't alot, but it's weird that it's happened twice

So lemme get this straight, this Lex is smart enough to build the parasite suit, have a fail safe for that, is able to frame Superman gaining Millions of followers and government access, infuse Kryptonite to Kryptonian built robots, but isn't smart enough to come up with a fail safe when said robots get hacked!?....yeah I call Bullshit

Hell yeah the Cavalry's here! oh, and Sam too I guess whatever, listen the FANS might've forgiven your ass for abandoning lois 6 episodes ago, but I sure as hell don't, in all seriousnes tho I am glad he got some sort of character development regarding his relationship with Superman, seeing it as how he is now trying to help him instead of ya know, Trying to Kill him 😅 btw I kinda feel stupid for asking myself how the heck they turned invisible, only to realize they were actually holding on to Only the character who Can turn invisible Lol 😅😅 also did anyone else immediately thought've Lobo when he said the Main man, no, just me

Wow I can't belive they actually gave Kara the Winter soldier treatment, from the brainwashing, Down to him effing reactivating it like freakin Zemo, Well looks like Clark's gonna have to fight his cousin again, hopefully he doesn't end up like last time, or if not maybe Jimmy can talk some sense into her, Seeing as how it was seeing a picture of Jimmy which resulted in her breaking free from Brainiacs control, maybe this where he can finally confesses his feelings for her, Omg I would love that ^w^

Wait you're telling me Brainiac Did it, that he's the reason why krypton exploded, that HE Killed clarks and Kara's parents!? Oh nah Brainiac gotta die now, also has anyone else how similar he is to Zod, from his reasoning, to his personality, to even this whole effing scenario, like This is some shit Zod would've done, and it's funny because I was actually thinking about this not to long ago about how we technically don't need Zod in this show because Brainiac fits that role perfectly, especially with how he's been depicted this season, Omg if this was an intentional Detail on their part, then it's official, this show never ceases to Amaze me

Uh oh scary Kara's back, Damn it Brainiac why you gotta be such a Bitch; Also it may be nothing, but the way those missiles were moving kinda reminded of the way Darksides Omega beams would move, which got me thinking about something; What if Kryptons technology is possibly made from Apocalypse

This shot is ABSOLUTELY Beautiful; from the colors, to the camera work, to even the Symbolism between him and the Sun, everything was just Screams Superman

Tbh out of all the anime tropes they've done this season, I gotta say Talk no jutsu the 1 was NOT expecting them pull, and ya know what, I'm actually kinda glad they did, because it just fits Superman's MO; Superman has always been represented for kindness not his strength, like even if you've done him dirty, he'll still always choose to help you because that's just who he is, hes the person who just wants to help, he'll carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, he's the person who will try to stop a threat with his words before having to result to violence, he's the Man of Steel not because of what he can do, but because of who he is and always will be, hence why this trope works perfectly for him, it's the Perfect representation of what he embodies, Compassion, That's what makes him Superman

Ok I have a few things regarding this scene, 1st off i Absolutely love my 2 star children, 2nd of all Kara don't throw him into the sun, that's how make Nuclear man 😂 3rd of all, in all honesty, I was not worried 1 bit when Kara got shot mainly for 2 reasons; 1 even tho she was clearly shot by Kryptonite, they were directly near the sun and if I remember correctly, the Sun is what gives them their power, granting them the abilities to heal from critical wounds as well as even more strength, and because 2, kryptonians have invulnerable skin meaning she won't burn up from the sun even if she falls into it, all in all touching scene but No stakes

Kara's lighting's, Kryptonite Saber, Clean animation, Super sayian references!? OMG this episode is AMAZINGGG!! Also Kara's lighting's Red!? Ngl but I SWEAR I thought it was gonna be yellow, not because it would only go good with her hair, but because it in my opinion, it just fits her better, plus we did see kinda of it Start to spark in her fight against Brainiac 2 episodes ago, and since Clark's is blue it would only just made sense for hers to be yellow, hopefully maybe it can like evolve in season 3 or something, don't get wrong I like the Red but in my opinion, it just feels like a missed opportunity, In other News

Eff yeah Brainiac's Dead! Be honest, how many of you actually thought kara was dead after that scene, because my heart immediately stopped after she passed out 😅

Also can we talk about how Amazing Kara's suit looks, like Omg this Has to be one of the best desings I've seen, I just love everything about it from the colors to the boots all the way to especially the Cape, like I just love how it looks like a scarf UwU

AH siblings being siblings 😊 btw Love how he still has the shirt from when he was kid, Such a full circle moment, also when it comes to Kara's, this Kara, the kara from injustice 2, the CW show and even The FLASH movie are All of my favorite Kara's, every single one of them EXPECT and I can't believe I'm saying this, the 1 from the DCAU, like I'm sorry but in my opinion she was just too much of a hot head, and she barely had any screen time in Justice league, like I don't understand how did we stray so far from God, also she was incredibly weaker when it came to her cousin, this 1 on the other hand can slap her cousin around like it was a normal Tuesday, So yeah that's my Hot take come at me In the comments I dare you

Well well well looks like instead of mommy dosen't need you anymore, it's more like We don't need Mommy anymore, hell yeah Lex's finally going to be the Villain next season and I soo can't wait, oh and what's this, it looks like slade is gonna be his right hand now, oh yeah Slex is Definitely becoming cannon

🎵 Super rizz, Super rizz, here comes Clark's Super rizz 🎵

And with that another amazing end to another amazing series, Overall this season was freakin Epic, from the animation, to the music, to the character designs minus the robots, everything was just epic, from Start to finish; only thing to do Now is wait for season 3, but I wanna know you're thoughts, What did YOU think of season 2, and what was your favorite episode or moment from this series, comment or just leave a like if ya enjoyed this Thoughts on series, and lemme know if I should do more of this, Anyway I'mma head out because this took a while for me to write and I'm feeling kinda burnt out, Anyway yeah thank you for reading and I can't wait to see you again in S3, and with that, Superman Saturday's has come to an end, well, for now anyway ^^;

[bbarnesbby]

Through the back door

Pervy!contractor!Joel Miller x fem!reader

(photos from pinterest, and not an accurate representation of how the reader is perceived in their appearance)

Summary: A fresh faced personal assistant catches Joel’s eye whilst working on his current job, and who can blame him for going after what he wants? Even if it takes some convincing…

Words: 2k

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, dark!Joel Miller, Joel is VERY crude and pervy here, he's also very forward, creepy men, catcalling, groping, coercion, lots of sexual innuendos, but no actual smut, my lil brain knows nothing about construction sites or contractors and it shows<3, my dyslexia lol

!! I do not consent to or accept any instance in which my works are copied, edited, reposted or translated on tumblr or any other website. !!

!! Please also note that this is fan fiction and I would never tolerate the themes in this being repeated in the real world. I am not responsible for what you consume on this website, all warnings are given and if you don't feel comfortable with them then your opinion is valid and understandable, but not invitation to hate on or shame this fanfic !!

Thank you and please enjoy <33

The repetitive click of your heels on the dusty pavement below you seems to be the only thing you can hear over your laboured breathing as you rush to get back to the office building, the place that could only affectionately be described as your own personal hell.

When you'd first gotten the job, the ambiguously labelled title you had been assigned did confuse you at first. However, now as you grip the holder for four coffees in one hand, and a bag carrying a series of different flavoured salads, sandwiches, and kinds of pasta in the other, you realise it was all to cover up what you'd really be.

A bottom-of-the-barrel personal assistant.

The job itself isn't one you would complain about, everyone has got to start somewhere after all, especially coming straight out of college. It's just the assholes you work for that make you long for an escape.

Young men with no degree, making them easily less qualified than you, having the audacity to make requests that must be completed in unrealistic time frames seem to be the bane of your existence. The fact they have the power to do so only down to the fact they have family working the important positions in other branches of the company.

That and the thing hanging between their legs.

Pushing your thoughts of distaste aside, you glance at your wristwatch as you round the last corner of your journey before the building is in sight. You notice you've got a good five minutes before you're eligible for a scolding from your boss and let out a sigh of relief.

But as you get closer to your destination, you notice construction tape seems to have materialised around the walkway to the office building in the fifteen minutes you were gone, men already drilling into the ground you need to walk over to get where you need to be.

As you hurry to the now construction site, you stand for a moment confused, huffing as you look around for anyone who could help you in your predicament.

Your eyes scan a group of men standing by the bed of a pickup truck, presumably talking about their job at hand. You walk along the makeshift fence made up of scuffed traffic cones and more construction tape until you're near enough parallel to the truck, not crossing the tape out of concern you may disrupt whatever's going on.

"Excuse me?" Voice loud enough to be heard but still polite, you gain the attention of a couple of the men, their averted gazes prompting those who didn't initially hear you to look over too. A small but friendly smile pulls at your lips but soon falters when a few of them let out their renditions of low whistles and unsavoury comments towards you.

"You alright, pretty lady?" One of them smirks, dark, invasive eyes giving you a once over as he runs his hand over his dark brown, almost black, hair.

Was this building a magnet for sleazy male stereotypes or something?

"Um, I work here." You stumble over the statement slightly, the discomfort you feel under his penetrative stare affecting your speech as you weakly point at the building behind them.

"Yeah, no shit." The same man darkly chuckles along with a couple of the other workers, eyes raking your form, clad in a blouse and pencil skirt. But you feel you might as well be naked in front of them, stuck there like a deer in headlights as they continue to ogle your body. Before he can make any other comments, he's lightly pushed to the side as another man approaches.

"Shut up, Tommy..." His voice is deep and commanding but has a playful nature behind it, the two of them clearly well acquainted with one another.

He looks to be older than the men around him, broad frame imposing as he comes to where the tape separates you from him. Although, the way he carries himself suggests he's probably in a position where he could do whatever he wanted with the equipment on the site, but have no one to answer to for it.

"How can I help, sweetheart?" He sounds friendly enough but has that dirty, smug look on his face that tells you he's not any better than the men who'd previously been eyeing you like a piece of meat.

Despite the sickly feeling that swirls in the pit of your stomach when looking at him, you realise he's probably your best shot at getting you where you need to be.

"I need to get back in the building," your voice is timid as you try to avoid the burly man's gaze, opting to look back to where men are starting to pull up the concrete slabs that once made up your path back into your workplace. Though the pause after you've spoken prompts you to glance back up at him, catching him looking down the gap between your chest and slightly unbuttoned blouse, "I work here-"

"Yeah, you've said that." he cuts you off with a smirk, taking in your mortified expression before looking over the construction site with a huff. "Well my boys are pretty deep in their work now, and I can't have ya walking through here when we've got equipment running," he gives you another once over, "don't want a pretty girl like you getting hurt, do we?"

He's smiling again, but you see straight through it and tense at the realisation these men will be working here for god knows how long.

"What should I do then?" You ask with furrowed brows, readjusting your hold on the coffees that now uncomfortably weigh down your hand.

"I mean I could carry ya over," he laughs as though it's a joke, but first impressions tell you he'd jump at the opportunity to get his filthy hands on you -- no matter the circumstance, "how bout I take you in the backdoor?"

The way he worded the innuendo didn't fly over your head the way you wish it did, and the combination of his comment and the way he's now running his pink tongue over his bottom lip making you feel sick in multiple ways.

You reluctantly nod, just wanting to get back to work and away from this man. The obnoxious nepo babies that unfairly dominated your field of work suddenly felt like prince charmings in comparison to the man now stepping over the flimsy barrier that once separated you. But as he came that small distance closer, you couldn't help but feel some attraction to his broad frame and tan skin. And those arms...

His slight chuckle pulls you out of your thoughts, wide eyes snapping up to meet his leering expression as prickling heat floods your face in embarrassment.

"C'mon, I'm Joel by the way," he tilts his head, gesturing for you to walk in front of him. It's a request you realise most likely has ulterior motives, but you do so anyway after muttering your name in return.

Rounding the corner, you falter for a moment as the cluttered alley comes into view. Your gut instinct is screaming at you to tell Joel that he can fuck right off back to wherever he came from, but you figure that would cause more commotion than the slim possibility he'd try anything in broad daylight.

But as you carry on down the alley and squeeze past a particularly cluttered area of multiple dumpsters and bins, you become more uncomfortable as he spews another innuendo about how 'it's real tight, huh?'

His irksome behaviour soon becomes less of an annoyance and more of a concern though.

Once you're past the worst of the clutter you soon realise that it wasn't just an obstacle, but also serves as a wall -- blocking any further view for anyone passing by.

Turning around, you merely stand there as Joel comes closer. His daunting frame becomes more intimidating in the dim light of the narrowing lane you now find yourself trapped in, helpless.

"Doors just there," he mutters while pointing to the slightly beaten-up side door to the left of you, a twisted attempt at making you believe you still have any control over this situation.

Not trusting your voice, you simply nod at him with your eyes still locked. You'd prefer him to leave before you turn your back to him, but when he makes no move to do so, you quickly rush to the door in the hopes you may be faster than him.

But faster you are not.

First, you feel the heat radiating off of him, and then you feel the hard chest, the wandering hands, the grinding hips. As he invades your space and presses himself against your back, you try to squirm away, but only end up pinning yourself between the door and his imposing body.

"Where you tryna go, sweetheart?" His breath is hot against your neck, sending shivers down your spine and to places that make your body hot with shame. "You really wanna go back in there? Where those people are just gonna treat you like shit?"

His hips continue to grind into your ass, becoming more calculated rather than ravenous, as though his words and body are working as one to persuade you.

"I know those guys, they'll chew you up and spit you out." His words become harsh and his rough hands harsher, beginning to untuck your blouse from your pencil skirt, reaching up until his fingers are splayed across your stomach. The skin-on-skin contact is undeniably thrilling, as he now caresses it with finesse.

"So fuckin' soft," he mutters into your hair, inhaling before releasing a rumbling groan, "I'd treat you like the sweetest thing, baby."

You grimace at his words, far too much commitment behind them, leaving you spiralling into another panicked frenzy. You squirm again, this time having more success as you're able to turn to face him, although not fully able to escape his unrelenting hold yet. Facing him, you see how dark his eyes have become, set on you like a predator eyeing its prey.

His hair is slightly tousled, the way he'd previously been ravaging your body having that effect. You realise there's no way you can persuade him to stop his pursuit of you, so you decide to cave, at least you hope he thinks so.

"Let's not do this here." You say it quietly so as to not come off too demanding, peering up at him through your lashes in a way that you hope looks innocent enough for him to believe it. "Wouldn't you wanna do this someplace comfier," your voice switches from scared to sultry, “hm?”

He quirks a brow at this, slowing his assault on your body to a stop, but not yet taking his hands off of you, “you wanna do this somewhere else, sweetheart?”

The pet name still irks you, but provides some ease in telling you your comment hasn’t pissed him off at all. Trying to run along with your manipulative escape, you nod up at him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth and pushing your own crotch closer to his. You tell yourself it’s all for the bigger picture, but you can’t ignore the way your body has come more accustomed to his touch in such a short period of time.

"Mhm,” you’re nodding again, placing a hand on his firm chest, and slowly, teasingly, sliding it lower, “do this where you can take real good care of me… Show me what I'm missing?"

There's a pause, his expression unreadable as he continues to penetrate your façade with his stare. His lack of response has you rethinking your words, brows twitching as more sick scenarios of what could ensue consume your thoughts. But then a dark chuckle fills the tense silence, Joel shaking his head as he smirks down at you. Stepping back, he tucks his hands into his pockets and gives you one last once over before nodding his head and making his way back down the alley.

"I'll keep an eye out," are his last words before he disappears past the trash and clutter, out of sight.

But maybe not quite out of mind...

-----

First fic done! All likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated and I am open to requests on future fic ideas you may have<33

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

Hello! I wanted to start off by saying thank you for your digitigrade humanoid references, they've been super helpful for drawing my sheep-satyr oc!

I was wondering though, do you have any resources for writing nonhuman creatures? Specifically when referencing the nonhuman aspects of them. For example I have this sentence that goes:

"I jumped to my hooves."

I don't have any frame of reference for this :/ so when I'm writing my oc talking about what she does with the sheep half of her body it sounds kind of off.

I looked on Youtube and online and just saw "Do some world building and give your nonhuman characters human traits," which isn't what I'm looking for.

Kindest Regards-

oh I am doing so much of this in my own writing. I think the trickiest part for me is that I'm trying to also add in the detail that most of the people species don't smile the way humans do, with exposed teeth and a wide mouth being more of a fear/threat response rather than a happy expression. so I keep having to force myself to describe happy expressions in different ways! this is quite challenging, for obvious reasons lol.

but beyond that, honestly I like to just focus on using their non-human body parts to help enhance their body language. my porcine orcs and gnomes wiggle their snouts. anyone with large ears can move them as an expressive body part. tails do all sorts of things!

I think using the phrase "I jumped to my hooves" works just fine! it shows the reader that your character has hooves. The hardest part of course is figuring out how to introduce the character's appearance as early as possible to avoid too much confusion. Looking at my own writing, opening on a scene of a gnomish character, I didn't mention her ears until a few paragraphs in, and her hooves didn't get mentioned until several paragraphs after that. I'm still trying to scan through and find where I introduce her snout lol. it's really hard! and sometimes just using illustrations is unfortunately not possible.

But I think as long as you remember to mention different body parts when they're relevant and using them in the general body language, you'll be just fine. A few things I've been doing with this gnomish character include:

mentioning that she catches a pebble between her cloven toes

using her snout as an expressive body part

writing scenes where she needs to have her hooves trimmed because they grow perpetually

writing scenes where she files down her tusks, because she's also a quarter orc and has some recessive genes that cause tusk growth in amab gnomes, so filing her tusks is one part of how I explore her relationship with her body and gender as a trans woman

I also have elves with long monkey-like tails, though I give them tail expression more similar to cats. Teeth can also be an important expressive body part, when applicable! baring sharp canines or moving one's head and mouth in a way that puts a large pair of tusks on full display is a great way to show things like fear, intimidation, or anger.

you can also study the body language of whatever animal you're using for reference, like sheep, and apply those details to the way you describe your character!

here is an article about sheep behaviors for reference!

and a few quotes with non-human body language from my own rough draft:

“K’arik is the one I’m worried for, not myself,” Morianon murmured, flicking his wings nervously. Evarin nodded, wrapping her arm around her husband’s waist. “I’m worried for him too.” They walked in silence, gravel and bark chips crunching under their feet as they made their way up the road. Evarin spread her hoofed toes with every step, willing a stone to catch between them. A cold pebble lodged itself in the crease between her toes just as they turned up the path to her parents’ door.

The stranger bent low, pushing their enormous three-toed feet over the threshold, ducking their head and reaching forward to pull themself inside. “What’s going on?” He-esh squinted and frowned. “Elkha, tell me what’s going on.” He tapped Th’elir’s arm, but she too had been caught by surprise and only mumbled as she tried to explain. Evarin stepped back towards K’arik, eyes wide. She glanced at her mother and saw her own shocked expression mirrored right back. As the stranger grunted and half-crawled through the low door, she saw her father escape the crowd and hurry to join her. “Can you believe—“ he whispered, but Tawei shushed him. The stranger’s body blocked the whole door as they finally fit themself through it and stood up. Even inside, they had to bend their neck to avoid the rafters, towering over the tallest orcs in the room. Four hooved feet, holding a body so heavy they sunk into the packed dirt floor. Legs as tall as a gnome. They wore layers of woven cloth, all green and brown and cedar red in beautiful leafy patterns, draped over their uncanny body that seemed to have two sets of ribs. Their arms were just skinnier versions of their forelegs, Evarin noticed. She could barely see their face in the shadows by the rafters. Morianon could see them better, perched above everyone else. His feathers shivered as the stranger noticed him, catching and holding his gaze. Their mouth was tense, their long ears laid flat against their head. Morianon glanced away and found Evarin’s eyes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Forgive me,” the stranger said, bringing the murmur of the crowd to a dead hush, “for not announcing my arrival ahead of time.” They walked carefully forward, every step remarkably delicate for someone so massive. “I came to deliver my herd’s respects to you, He-esh.” “Oh? Ah, no, I do know you,” He-esh sat up with Th’elir’s help, clearing his throat. “Or perhaps this is an old man’s dying dream. Are you a spirit?” he laughed, “I never thought I’d live to see a centaur enter my village. I suppose it would have to happen on the last day of my life, wouldn’t it?” He smiled up at the centaur and welcomed them forward with an open hand.

Despite the difficulty, Kouto looked oddly chipper for an early morning and sat down in a hurry, tail curling playfully.

“I remember when he was a kid,” Nanji said, shaking his head, “he had a lot of potential. Shame to see him grow up into such a stubborn and angry fellow.” He passed the tray to Jen who set it on the central table. “I hate to blame anyone but him for his change of heart, but we all know it happened after he got married and moved to that other clan up north.” “He was very annoyed that He-esh wanted to die by song instead of the usual orcish tradition,” Mori said, “Kept giving Evarin nasty looks.” He ruffled his feathers and sat a little closer to his wife. “I was too nervous to pay him any mind,” Evarin assured him. Ikar’s irritated gaze had added to the nervousness, she admitted to herself, but it had been among the least of her worries.

Leaving the bedroom, Evarin was momentarily startled by the looming figure of Ikar at the hearth. She had been in such a hurry, she hadn’t noticed him on her way in. He gave her a sideways glance, lightly swirling the cup in his hand. “At’ali’s granddaughter, aren’t you?” he muttered. “That’s right.” Evarin tensed up defensively. Ikar humphed. “You look nothing like as’el. Must take after your father’s side more.” He sipped his drink and went quiet, turning away from her. Evarin’s snout wrinkled and grew hot, but she left the house without another word, shaking off his comment and breathing deep in the fresh air.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s The Sea No Longer Distant MQ translation (Part 1/3)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a MQ that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

[Warning]: The content of this MQ is pretty explicit and may not be suitable for individuals under the age of 18 (CN server). It is recommended that those who do not meet this age requirement refrain from proceeding beyond this point.

Translation under the cut!

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[Notes from Lux: Special thanks to @ivioivioivi for checking some lines of the translation! Personally, translating this date is a hell of a struggle for me and I wouldn’t able to finish it without her help lol-

Before we start, I’d recommend you all read Fantasy Book Date, Devotion Date, Distant Similarity, and Monochrome Scenery. This MQ specifically references these dates/shares a similar theme so, if you haven’t read it or just want to jog your memory, please check them out first! :>

Currently, I haven't made the subtitled video, so for now here’s the CN video link if anyone wants to follow along his voice acting.]

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

—[Part 1]—

Host: ... And now, we are about to unveil the final award of the evening at the Magnolia Awards - the Best Variety Show.

As thunderous applause erupts, I find myself holding my breath, my heart pounding in my chest.

The "Best Director" award I just received feels heavy in my hands as if it's also waiting for another trophy of equal weight to be embraced.

Host: ...Now, let's take a look at the nominated works for this year's Best Variety Show.

The first nominee, produced by my company, appears on the big screen, a montage of past highlights flashing by.

After the five short films are shown in sequence, the award presenter opens the envelope in her hand.

Presenter: And the winner of the Magnolia Award for Best Variety Show is...

Her final words unleash a thunderous wave of applause, and the dazzling lights make it nearly impossible for me to keep my eyes open, leaving me in a daze.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The ceaseless traffic flows by like a stream, and it is not until a vaguely familiar building appears in the distance that I slowly come back to my senses.

I blink, and the white building becomes clearer as I focus on it, standing out with a sense of tranquility in the fading twilight.

….Unbeknownst to myself, I find myself subconsciously drawn to the vicinity of the research institute.

I can't help but sign, feeling a pang of annoyance as I become aware of my own emotions.

MC: I really do want to talk with Lucien after all…

Am I hoping for his comfort? Or seeking his advice?

Perhaps I just want to see him at this moment.

MC: He is probably still busy…

At 7 in the evening, the world slows its pace with the fading twilight on the horizon. The rhythmic flashing of the red traffic light at the crosswalk spreads the last remnants of twilight.

And in that small, illuminated scene, I see a familiar figure.

He gazes steadily ahead, his eyes appearing to hold a multitude of things, yet also seeming to contain nothing.

His face bears traces of exhaustion, and he seems distant and unreal as if he were merely a figment of my imagination.

But in a twist of fate, his vacant gaze shifts in the next second and meets mine.

After a moment of stunned silence, I see him smile gently.

The green light stops flashing at the last second, and I see Lucien standing in front of me.

Lucien: [chuckles] Good evening, MC.

MC: [smiles softly] Good evening, Professor Lucien, I didn't expect to meet you here.

I can't help but smile, and naturally take his hand as we walk towards home.

Lucien: I want to leave work early today.

Lucien: Meeting you proves that this was the right choice.

His voice gently accompanies the evening breeze, and I inexplicably feel that Lucien's mood doesn't seem particularly good either.

Considering his recent state of intense overtime, perhaps he's been dealt with some setbacks or failures.

I swallow the words that are about to spill out of my mouth. I purse my lips and start talking to him about amusing things I haven't shared yet, and listen to him talk about the bickering among his assistants.

Such a rare leisurely stroll, sharing everyday life we've missed with each other, everything is so good.

Lucien: By the way, I forgot to congratulate you on winning the awards.

Suddenly, I hear Lucien's voice.

Lucien: I received your message this morning, but I had some unexpected situations this afternoon, so I didn't have time to watch the live awards ceremony.

Lucien: Having won all the major awards for both "Best Director" and "Best Program" in two variety shows, for such an amazing Miss Producer, I should have congratulated you much earlier.

His tone is so brisk and firmly assured* that I'm momentarily stunned, letting it fall heavily to the ground.

Lucien is also stunned.

The air around me turns stiff, and I don't know how to describe my feelings.

The wave that's directly crashing over me now feels far more immense and intangible than the moment the guest announced it, causing both pain and sadness.

I clench my palms and instinctively muster a smile at him.

After all, if I were to cry pitifully now, it would only make me appear weak and humiliated.

MC: Hehe, I'll accept half of Professor Lucien's congratulations first! Winning Best Director is a small victory, right?

MC: I still need to keep working hard!

I can't even bring myself to look into his eyes and just want to keep walking forward.

Just as I'm about to walk away, he holds my hand to stop me, and when I turn around, I see his deep gaze filled with guilt and comfort.

Lucien: [guiltily] Sorry, it was my mistake for not confirming.

Lucien: [in a comforting tone] Don't worry, you've already done a great job. Awards are just one way of judging, and they can't determine everything.

Lucien: If you feel sad, tell me all about your feelings.

The night falls, and the streetlights stretch his shadow long.

Lucien: It's okay, you can always slow down your growth in front of me.

I look at the person in front of me, take a deep breath, and hold his hand back.

MC: I know, I am moving forward at my own pace.

MC: If I didn't do well, I'll just find a solution.

MC: Please don't worry Professor Lucien, I know what I need to do. I will keep working hard.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[T/N: Before we move on to the next part, I want to say that this time I won't write an essay because I think the date itself explains its plot theme pretty well, I'll just use T/N to highlight some important parts and more ;)

MC uses the word 笃定 (dǔ dìng) to describe Lucien's tone (and also gaze, which will be used in part 2). I translated it to 'firm assuredness'. This word often describes how certain and unwavering a person is about something or a specific belief. In this context, Lucien is confident that MC will always be the ‘best’ and can achieve any goal she sets. However, this may also imply a kind of ‘expectation’, which is where the ‘problem’ of this date arises.]

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

—[Exclusive Radio - Resignation Application]—

[door knocking sounds]

Lucien: Come in.

Zeng Shu: Long time no see, sorry to bother you.

Lucien: Is there a problem with the project's progress?

Zeng Shu: No, the project is going very smoothly. The results from the last few trials have been very stable.

Zeng Shu: The reason I came to see you today... is to discuss a personal matter with you.

Lucien: Oh? Please go ahead.

Zeng Shu: I want to withdraw from the project.

Lucien: …

Zeng Shu: Ah, don't worry. I will complete all the handover tasks before I leave.

Zeng Shu: The project is very stable in all aspects now. Although the manpower is not abundant, having one less person won't be a problem.

Zeng Shu: Thank you for giving me the opportunity to join the project. I'm sorry I won't be able to work with everyone to see it through to completion.

Lucien: …

Zeng Shu: …

Lucien: Is there a specific reason for this?

Lucien: Although we're not in a critical period, personnel turnover will inevitably have an impact on the project.

Lucien: I believe most problems can be solved.

Zeng Shu: You've misunderstood. There's no problem.

Zeng Shu: I'm just tired.

Zeng Shu: I want to take some time off.

Lucien: How much time off do you need?

Zeng Shu: I’m not trying to pressure you into approving my leave, Professor.

Zeng Shu: I just... need some time to really think about whether I’m actually suited for research.

Lucien: You’re not a fresh graduate.

Lucien: You’ve worked on your own projects, supervised students, and you’re experienced. You’ve also published numerous high-impact papers.

Lucien: I can't understand the meaning behind your statement.

Zeng Shu: …

Zeng Shu: Professor, I'm aware of everything you mentioned.

Zeng Shu: But not everyone can be like you, maintaining such passion for research no matter what.

Zeng Shu: And not everyone who pursues research is as gifted as you are.

Lucien: ...I always thought you were quite level-headed.

Lucien: I generally don't recommend bringing emotions into work.

Zeng Shu: Your judgment of me is not wrong; I am very calm right now.

Zeng Shu: From the moment I had this thought to... coming to your office, I've carefully considered it for three months.

Zeng Shu: This is the result of my comprehensive consideration. I hope you can approve it.

Lucien: …

Lucien: Do you want to withdraw from the current project, or are you not considering joining any future projects either?

Zeng Shu: I won't join any of them.

Lucien: Even the project you proposed two years ago? I received news last week that it can be officially approved.

Zeng Shu: Yes. I'm not considering it anymore.

Lucien: [sighs heavily] I understand.

Lucien: I will respect your decision.

Lucien: However, I hope you can continue to perform your related duties normally before you leave completely.

Lucien: If the project is affected at this stage, it will be difficult for either of us to handle.

Zeng Shu: I understand, don't worry.

Zeng Shu: I'll start the handover process tomorrow.

Lucien: Alright.

Zeng Shu: Sorry for the trouble, goodbye.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[T/N: This part is interesting because it shows how Lucien's subconscious 'expectation' extends not only to MC but also to the people who work with him. This 'expectation' can make people ‘tired’ and ‘exhausted’ from trying to keep up with him, and it's something that he himself is not really aware of. Additionally, I want to highlight how he doesn't understand the concept of being tired in a non-physical sense, like, at all, which will be important in a later part ;)]

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

—[Part 2]—

Sunlight streams through the windowsill, casting a brilliant and rejuvenating glow over the quiet room.

I walk into the computer room, swiftly turn on the computer, and bring up the rough cut of the video completed yesterday.

In the footage, the guest laughs endlessly in a seaside cottage. The suitable music and adorable text overlays convey the happiness even more directly.

I sit on the seat while hugging my legs, letting the laughter from the headphones linger in my mind, but it can't seem to drown out what happened yesterday.

I don't know when it started, but after putting in so much effort, success has somehow become a kind of arrogant ‘matter of course'.

Perhaps I've gotten used to the taste of success, so when failure arrives, I become even more at a loss.

And compared to this frustration... my mind returns to the firmly assured eyes I saw yesterday.

??: Boss, why are you here so early?

I lift my head and see Willow standing in front of me with a bit of a worried look.

MC: You're one to talk, didn't you come early too?

Willow: I just felt like something was up, so I thought I’d come and check on things.

She says that as she sits down next to me and turns on her computer. The dim glow of the screen reflects on her face, revealing traces of fatigue and frustration.

Yet, she turns her head and smiles at me.

Willow: Boss, do you want to take a break? You've been busy for a long time lately, haven't you?

I think I should say something, but as I gaze into those firm eyes, it seems like all words are inadequate.

In the end, I just shake my head with a smile.

MC: Don't worry, I'm not tired.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Over the next week, the shadow of failure gradually fades away, and everything returns to normal.

Lucien is still busy, and I'm still immersed in the intense preparations for the summer special.

It's just that I often feel Lucien's gaze on me. During our interactions, he seems to observe me from time to time, yet he never says a word.

Is he thinking about how to comfort me, or is he worried that I'm just pretending to be strong?

After much thought, I stubbornly chose not to break his silence.

Compared to words, perhaps more proactive actions can show him that I have become more resilient.

It seems like an invisible thread is becoming more tense, but neither of us has the time to care.

I come home late at night and notice Lucien sitting on the sofa, looking at some documents.

A vast expanse of night covers him, and his eyes, as calm as still water, seem unable to be touched by any emotion.

MC: Lucien, are you okay?

He doesn't seem to notice my return. He freezes for a moment before slowly raising his head.

Lucien: I'm fine.

Speaking softly, he naturally draws me into a hug, his chin resting on my head. A long sigh escapes his lips.

The world becomes peaceful in the instant, fully contained within this gentle embrace.

MC: [worriedly] Is the experiment not going well?

Lucien: [inhales deeply before speaking softly] Mm. I've tried a few methods, but none of them can quite solve the problems.

Lucien: So, I'm thinking of throwing this out and starting from scratch.

MC: Is the direction wrong?

Lucien: [chuckles] Probably.

He remains silent for a while before continuing slowly.

Lucien: One of my senior research associates who's been working with me recently quit. No one can fill his shoes right now, so it's making the process a bit more troublesome.

Lucien: Overall, it might be more efficient to just start fresh.

MC: Why did he quit?

Lucien: He said he was too tired.

His calm voice seems full of incomprehension and ambivalence. Although I can't see Lucien's face at the moment, I can imagine his slightly furrowed brow.

Lucien: But theoretically, the work arrangements are sound, and I didn't force him to constantly monitor every result with me.

Lucien: So I don't know either.

Lucien: Since he was determined to leave, I let him go.

His tone reveals a rare cold sternness as if he is unwilling to waste time on unnecessary matters.

Lucien: There will always be a replacement.

I blink in a daze, feeling like I can see that senior professor.

I really want to say something to Lucien, but in the end, I still don't know how to start.

Lucien: MC, let's not talk about that. Actually, I really want to chat with you.

MC: Hmm?

He releases his hug and gently caresses my face.

Lucien: [in a gentle tone] I wonder if you're still feeling a bit sad because you didn't win the award for best work.

The soft moonlight made his face appear so gentle at this moment.

Under his dotingly gentle gaze, I don't want to hide my heart. I know Lucien has been waiting for a long time.

MC: Actually, I thought I had already secured victory, but unexpectedly, I failed.

MC: So when the results were announced, I felt very frustrated.

I look at Lucien honestly and muster up the courage.

MC: I originally thought this feeling of frustration was simply because… I failed.

MC: But when I saw you and when you congratulated me, subconsciously assuming that I should be the "best"...

I feel my voice tremble a little.

MC: It was then that I realized I hadn't fulfilled your expectations.

MC: And at that moment, it was the saddest time for me.

Lucien is rational and effortlessly capable. He believes that if something can be done, it can be done.

So he subconsciously believes that the heights I can reach are ones I will undoubtedly attain, or even surpass.

Otherwise, on this long and arduous journey of pursuit, I would only watch his figure grow further and further away.

In those slightly widened eyes, I see a lot of confusion and incomprehension.

Lucien: I…

“Ring ring-”

A sudden, insistent phone call interrupted him. After hesitating for a moment and seeing the caller ID, I decided to answer.

Man: Boss, urgent news! Looks like a storm is about to hit. The weather department says the coastal weather won't be good for the next two weeks.

Man: All the subsequent filming will be affected. We just went over the script and realized we need to make major changes.

Man: What should we do? Should we cancel it? Or what? The guests' schedules are kind of hard to change.

MC: It's definitely going to be difficult to change the guests' schedules now, and it will also affect the following weekly broadcasts. Let's revise the script.

I quickly run through the ideas in my head and a vague idea comes to me.

MC: Have the production team book me a flight tonight. I'm going straight there.

After hanging up the phone, the previous atmosphere has already dissipated. Lucien sits in front of me, much of his body falling into the shadows.

MC: Lucien, I didn't say those things to make you feel guilty or anything, because those were just my own feelings.

MC: It's me who wants to catch up to you and fulfill your expectations.

I smile and reach out to stroke his face, gently smoothing out the slight frown that forms unconsciously on his brow.

MC: I'll take care of my own feelings, so don't worry.

MC: I'll run even faster next time.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

—[Memory Silhouette - The back of a running figure]—

MC: I'm leaving now. Make sure to drive safely on your way home!

Lucien: Relax, don't worry.

Lucien: You don't need to rush. There's always a solution.

MC: I know. Don't worry~ I'll message you as soon as I land. Don't wait up too late for me.

Lucien: [chuckles] Okay, I'll be sure to follow Miss Producer's instructions. I'll go to sleep as soon as I feel tired.

In the somewhat deserted early morning airport, the girl gives him a quick peck on the cheek before heading towards the security checkpoint.

The security checkpoint is almost empty, but she still instinctively turns her head and waves to him at every turn.

Yet, it seems like she hates to leave him waiting, so she keeps waving back at him non-stop.

Lucien: "Slow down."

He mouths the words, knowing full well the sound won’t reach her, yet somehow he still has this feeling that she can hear them.

As her figure walks into the security checkpoint, she waves to him one last time from dozens of meters away before disappearing from sight.

He doesn't know why, but looking at her figure from behind, he felt as if he was being escaped from.

This feeling makes him very uncomfortable.

He furrows his brows in irritation and turns to walk into the black night.

Where exactly did things start to go wrong?

The girl's slightly bitter smile flashes back into his mind, but it brings more confusion than answers.

Why does his unconscious firm assuredness sadden her more than the failure itself?

Why do I feel assured that she can do it, and why does she think my expectations are so important?

We're clearly not on the same track.

Clearly, she can have her own pace, and I also allow her to fail...

Is it because I am someone special to her?

Does she want to meet my expectations? But my expectation is for her to just be happy and always within my sight*.

Do I have any other expectations for her?

Too many fragmented questions flood his mind, and each one of them feels unfamiliar and chaotic. This feeling of not having a starting point unconsciously makes him a bit infuriated.

There are still more tricky problems and troubles at work waiting for him, which he has to tackle one by one.

Despite thinking this way, her face still appears again and again among the numerous and complicated tasks in his mind.

Compared to those things that can be redone or thrown away, he feels some kind of deep-seated emptiness and unease.

He feels as if she has left him far behind, as if she knows more things that he cannot comprehend.

This feeling makes him even more irritable.

He instinctively turns at a fork in the road and continues until the familiar white building comes into view. Even so, his irritation doesn't seem to have subsided even a bit.

At this moment, his phone vibrates. He looks down and sees that it's a departure message from her.

MC’s message: "I'm boarding~ Just let me know when you get home! Don't forget to go to bed early~”

His fingers, naturally inclined to send a reply in the next second, hesitate just before hitting send. He closes his eyes and temporarily turns off the screen.

In that instant, he suddenly feels very childish.

What does it mean to say that she can handle her own emotions, yet still wants to run away to a faraway place?

He doesn't know the answer and can't think of a way to solve it.

He hurriedly walks into the lab. His sudden appearance caught everyone off guard. After a moment of stunned silence, they quickly come forward to greet him.

Assistant: Professor, why are you here?

Lucien: It's nothing. I'm just here to handle some other work. You can carry on.

Saying this, he walks into his own laboratory.

He doesn't plan to think about it anymore. There are still many things waiting for him, many plans and arrangements to implement—

Lucien: [whispers softly] Why…

The sound of the plane seems to pass overhead in the distance, and the night grows even darker.

Suddenly, he feels very lonely**.

✂— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[T/N: *: Just want to expand on what Lucien said here! One of his expectations is ‘for her always within my sight', I think it refers to what he said back in S2 ch 51

MC: Maybe it’s because I know that no matter where I go, you'll always be watching over me. MC: Lucien, I hope you can always keep your eyes on me. Lucien: Of course, I will always watch over you. Until... you go to a place that even I can’t reach...-

-that no matter where the direction she goes he will always watch over her 🤧 I personally like this quote a LOT, like it's more or less what's ‘growing’ in his route feels like. He won't stop you and will support anything you do, no matter what you'll ‘grow’ to be. Even if you walk in a different direction from him, even if what you do is risky, even if the road is full of failures… He'll always give his unconditional attention, support, and safety from afar. He hopes for her to be ‘always within his sight’ so that he can continue to do so 🥺

**: "寂寞" often conveys a more profound and enduring sense of isolation than "loneliness”. It emphasizes the emotional aspect of feeling isolated or abandoned such as the sadness, emptiness and the yearningಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ]

Next Part=> [Click Here]

[the-bitter-ocean]

oceaaaannn hiii! let's go with 3, 5, and 15 for the isat ask game c:

(MAJOR A6SE / 2HATS SPOILERS + FULL GAME SPOILERS AHOY) Thank you for the questions @dekupalace ! Since I’m going to be talking more in depth about the game for one of these questions I’m going to put my responses under a read more:

3- favorite soundtrack?

Oh god that’s such a hard question the whole game has certified bangers. The musicians at Studio Thumpy Puppy were not messing around or pulling any punches. The soundtrack of the game elevates literally every emotional beat. If I was forced to choose only one song out of the soundtrack my favorite track in the whole game has to be “How Can You Help Me, Stardust?” aka the theme that plays when you fight Loop at the Favor tree during act six. Hearing that for the first time while getting the full context of loop’s backstory made me go crazy. It was so fucking emotional and well done. That and it’s just objectively a super intense high energy song that makes me wanna dance around. If anyone deserves the coolest fight theme in the game, it’s Loop.

5- favorite optional event?

Ooh this is also a hard one! I adore a lot of the optional story events because each of them really shed light on Siffrin’s mental state /characterization, as well as gives depth to other aspects like the other character of the world building as a whole which strengthens the themes of the story. Aside from the obvious choice (2Hats Ending/ Act six loop encounter) I think my favorite optional event would have to be the “Who Was Phone” achievement (Change God event). There’s something so fascinating about learning about the Change God. Someone who clearly adores their certified little guy (Mirabelle) and is willing to offer words of kindness and assurance in her identity even if it knows she won’t remember in one instance..and then in the very same breath tell Siffrin that they enjoy watching Siffrin in the timeloop torment nexus because they’re curious to see how they change in a situation where everything is forced to stagnate. It was so genuinely fucked. I will think about it always forever.

15- anything you’d change about the game? be it game mechanics, a new feature, a change in plot, etc

Overall I’m pretty satisfied with the game both in story and gameplay actually. I think Adrienne did a good job writing and expanding on the characters and story that was set up in the prologue. The quality of life in terms of gameplay got improved since the previous game as well ( those who played the prologue can attest to this) . The fact that it was a in universe story reason as to why makes it all the more satisfying (if you want to know what I mean by that please read my mutuals @felikatze analysis about it here.)

I just am happy that Siffrin got to be happy in the end and stay with their family, to be able to talk things out and escape the loops. I know some people didn’t like that or expected a more darker/sadder ending or wanted the gameplay to be more challenging … my response to that is Literally Just Play Start Again: A Prologue. To me it would be extremely reductive to have Siffrin just suffer with no reprieve or escape from the loops (because that’s just a repeat of what happened in its predecessor) or have the group just split off from each other immediately after everything happened. It would have been extremely unsatisfying and ultimately missing the point of the themes of the game as a whole gonna be real lol.

The only things I’d maybe change or add is like it would’ve been cute to see Euphrasie and Claude be together/ reunite on screen in act 6. They should kiss. Lol. (That and just I would’ve personally loved to see Euphrasie in canon expanded on a little more but that’s not necessarily needed she serves her purpose in the narrative. I just like analyzing her and giving her more depth and I like when others do too, but that’s what fanart/ fics and aus are for so I’m not fussed.) 

I don’t mind that the game is sort of open ended and doesn’t answer all the questions. I think that gives artists, fanfic writers, Au makers and people who like to analyze the game more freedom to come up with their own interpretations for things that happened in pre canon and post canon which to me is more interesting. I know Loop disappearing at the end of the game in both endings is sad/ bittersweet but I wouldn’t necessarily change the way that was structured either. I like that their fate was ambiguous because it leads the viewer to come up with their own theories as to where they went. ( personally I love seeing stuff where loop gets to travel on their own and form a new life and identity outside of the loops and learn to heal, as well as post game getting to meet back up with the party and learn to navigate this new life/ change one step at a time. )

[newhologram]

In response to me saying “Cruelty and suffering are not requirements to create a strong society. ☺️” , I got these comments: but survival of the fittest and natural selection is☺️. That what life is pookie, you either blend in with society or you be “different” and get eaten alive 😘😘🥰. I used to be bullied when I was younger and for a while up until a few years ago and once I finally “gave in” and tried being normal, it changed my life. I made hella friends and connections who have helped me through life because people will accept you for being normal and when people accept you, they will boost and build you up and have your back. there is a huge difference between bulling and abuse 💀 (This commenter’s page is full of car pics. They have what is considered to be a socially acceptable interest. This is an important little detail in this conversation about “normal.”)

Pro-bullying is a very concerning worldview, because this is how people convince themselves that it’s okay to use violence of any kind on those who are different from you, simply because they are different, not because they did anything bad or hurt anyone. People who believe that “actually, bullying is a Good Thing because it makes us conform, which is Correct. Anyone who does not conform is Bad, and deserves abuse until they finally squash themselves into the mold we’ve decided is Normal.” It’s hard to understand if you’ve got any kind of grasp on empathy, or even if you don’t experience empathy but understand that differences are to be celebrated and that abusing people into hiding these harmless differences is, uh, bad? The only people I see defending bullying as some “necessary corrective action” in society are those who seem to think they turned out well and that life is great, except they really want to hurt other people for being different. Like, they’re thirsty for it. Their jaws chatter for the feeling of a slur between their teeth. They’re salivating at the thought and many can’t hold back, as evidenced by the comments I get on my “hey, bullying comes from insecure people” posts calling me ugly, stupid, weird, saying my hair is bad, my eyebrows are bad, I talk weird, I make weird faces/movements (ableism lol), my gender sucks or whatever, blah, blah. Which is strange to me because: isn’t the basis of so many belief systems, what we were taught in kindergarten is “Hey, we’re all unique and that’s by design. Be yourself! Also be kind, don’t hurt people.”

So… No, sorry. I will never agree with this stance. “Don’t be weird and you won’t get bullied”—All the things I’m labeled “weird” for are completely harmless. I’ll never be normal and that’s okay. How about just be kind to people even if they are different? Me being different isn’t hurting you or anyone else. 

What people like this fail to realize is that for many of us, there is no way to ever really “pretend” to be “normal.” We will never fit in, we’ll always stand out in some way, we’ll always be who we are. If the choice is between: use all my energy to hide who I am and still get abused just so I can have fake friendships with shallow and insecure people vs Just let go and be who I am, distance from people who don’t accept me unconditionally, make friends with cool, kind people Uh, I’m gonna go with the healthier, happier option? Wtf?

What you are saying is Good/Correct is to hide anything that is different: disabilities, gender, romantic or sexual orientation, very niche interests (which is a lifeline to ND’s)

Obsessively passionate about video games and comic books? I was “not normal” for this in the 90’s and even 2000’s. Should I have conformed and been interested in, I don’t know, boybands and pencil-thin eyebrows like my peers instead, to avoid their daily torment? Would that have made me “fit” to survive the world, or perhaps is it the bullies who are in the wrong for being horrible little devils to a child who just had different interests? (No, clearly, I was the one in the wrong for daring to exist, huh?)

Sensitive to stimuli? Probably my biggest autistic struggle, compounded by unending chronic pain. So I shouldn’t self-regulate at all, because that makes me stand out as Not Normal and make me a target? Instead of, maybe people should just accept that neurodivergent people exist and that it hurts no one if I need to decompress in a dark room and wear earplugs because my nervous system overloads easy? 

Ethnically mixed and hairy in places my white, blonde peers weren’t? That doesn't hurt anyone either. The bullying I got from my body’s natural state was so traumatic I started shaving my arms and legs at age 8. But it didn't stop; just the fact that I had hair to shave was another reason to bully me. I got called disgusting for being hairy, disgusting for being smooth. Conforming did nothing to stop the harm. Happen to be queer? Guess I should have “given in” and forced myself to be straight and cisgender because, what? To please whom? To appear more normal so I will get “acceptance and support” by people who would drop me if I wasn’t like them? How is the argument literally “either be exactly the same as us or we’ll hurt you! :)” solid in any way? It sounds unhinged. Not a social environment I would want to be part of at all. (Spoiler alert:  As an adult I have friends and a support system of people who like me for the ways I am different and myself, and that’s actually what is life-changing. That’s real love.)

All of that was “different” enough to get me verbally and psychologically (and a few times physically) abused for over a decade in school. I did nothing wrong. I was just different. 

To fit in and have a better life, I should hide all of this, because “that’s life?” What other ppl decide is normal and socially acceptable is “life”? We’re humans. We have free will. We can make the choice not to “eat people alive” just for harmless differences. There’s a reason these people try to justify it by relating to what they perceive as “mindless, empathyless” animal behavior and it isn’t good. 

And to address one of their comments: Incorrect. Bullying is a form of abuse. I endured sustained, systematic attacks on my sense of self and my body by my bullies for my entire school life and even early adulthood. That is abuse. Period.

I wanted to do a proper video reply to this but I haven’t got the spoons. I might just script this into voice-to-text at some point. 

[tonberry-yoda]

Memories - Kento Nanami

notes - I said I wanted to write a nanami fic, and here I am!!! I hope my nanami simps enjoy because if I'm being honest, this is one of my favorite pieces ever. I wrote this listening to Minecraft music lol <3 word count - 880 summary - you're tired. it's cold. but you can't seem to sleep. you decide to go out for a late night walk with a little too much on your mind.

~~BUY ME A KO-FI (COMMISIONS ARE OPEN)~~

Night time in Tokyo was pretty, but you needed to get away for a while. Away from the city. Not too far, but not too close either.

Despite the snow outside, you slipped on a jacket and went outside. You definitely weren't wearing the right shoes, but what did it matter. You honestly didn't mind the cold and it wasn't snowing too heavily to your surprise, just light dusting over the sidewalk.

You looked up and hummed lightly at the snow falling towards you that looked somehow brighter even though it was the dead of night. It helped that there were dim orange streetlamps everywhere.

You sighed and began a short walk to free your mind a bit.

So much had happened to you in such a short amount of time and you rarely got time to think it over.

But nights like these weren't always nice. They usually came from a lack of sleep and deep thoughts.

Your room was too cold, your fan was too loud, and your brain wouldn't calm down.

You watched every step you made carefully - making sure not to find any patches of ice that could cause you to slip and fall - and you played soft music in your headphones to accompany you.

You had lost more friends than you would've liked. It all happened so fast. You knew it came with the job, but in high school, when you were poor and hungry, what else could you do? Especially with that curse that accompanied you for your entire life. It wasn't anything bad, and it always was on its best behavior, it was just annoying that you had to grow up feeling so distant.

You had no choice but to become a sorcerer and that was okay. But it was also hard. And tiring. And it hurt.

You found a bench just outside of the city. You didn't mind that it was dusted with snow, you just took a seat, watching the lights glimmer from all of the buildings.

Where did you go wrong?

You balled your hair into your fingers and took a breath. Not often did you get to just breathe.

When was the last time you saw Gojo? Or Geto? Or anyone else for that matter?

You were so taken from the world that you weren't sure if a world existed anymore.

You felt yourself tearing up, but tried blinking it back and just watched the snow from above you.

Across from the bench you were on was a park. It was definitely old, but still used daily, you could tell.

You laughed at yourself when you had a thought: go sit on the swingset.

The laughter didn't stop you, so you did.

You used to go there when you were really young. Like really young. You don't even remember being that small. Or being a child.

You swung back and forth, just listening to the creaking of the metal on metal, but quickly stopped when you heard footsteps.

On the sidewalk you were just walking a moment ago, there was a familiar figure with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He almost smiled when he saw you, blowing smoke out from his nose.

"Nanami?" you whispered.

He walked to the swingset and leaned on the metal bar of it just feet away from you.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked.

"Not really." You looked away from him and back up at the night sky, watching every piece of snow fall from the clouds above.

"Been a while."

You just nodded and began swinging again.

"You look tired." he said.

"So do you."

He just hummed in response and put his cigarette out on the metal of the bar before walking to a nearby trashcan to toss it.

He then walked to the swing next to you. "This seat taken?" he asked.

"Go for it." you said.

He sat down on the swing after wiping the snow off with his sleeve.

For a while, it was just silence; the sound of you swinging and the slight breeze that would occasionally blow.

"Did you know I would be here?" you finally asked, slowing down a bit.

"No, honestly. I was just going on a walk."

"In deep thought?"

He chuckled. "Something like that."

You smiled and looked down at your feet. "I miss you."

"Me too."

"Then why did you leave?"

"You left too." He turned to look at you with sweetness in your eyes.

"I know. And I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too." Nanami reached out his hand to you and you took it, standing up.

He brought your knuckles to his lips and he pulled you closer.

"Might be a while before something like this." He stood up from his swing and wrapped his arms around you. He smelled good. Really good. Like cologne and fresh laundry.

You smiled and wrapped your arms around him. He was also warm, making you - an ice cube at this point - nearly melt.

He pulled away from the hug and leaned down to you. "I know it's been a while," he whispered. "But I would like a kiss."

You pressed your lips to his and he hugged around your waist tightly.

The walk home was lonely, but the memories were nice to dwell on.

~~~~~

jjk masterlist | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[kakujis]

ghost in the machine;

ft: bonten!mikey. pt 2 of this post.

warnings: afab!reader, pet names (baby, good girl), praise, reader is terrified of mikey LOL but warms up pretty fast, minor angst, pining, not implied kaku x reader, hes just mentioned cus i love him. 

wc: 2.2k

a/n:i couldn’t get this song out of my head after i heard it and i thought it fit bonten!mikey so well. he’s so sad. TnT. i really wanted to write pt 2 of mikey’s part also, so this is purrfect!! may be a bit ooc, but idc. soft bonten!mikey ftw!!! this almost stayed sfw but i am nothing but a wh*re. a one track mind. anyways. soft… this is so soft. please love hims. ):

mikey has seen it all before, how could he not, when he holds the world in his hands? when one single command could ruin someone’s life, could set destruction wherever he wanted. each day comes and goes, routine settling deep in his bones. there’s no spark behind his eyes, hollow and empty. but he’s pretty like a seashell, fragility hiding behind the dark shadow of himself. 

mikey didn’t think much when you were hired, wasn’t sure why he hired you anyway. but takeomi had insisted, have a pretty girl to take some of the burden off. but you ended up becoming less of his secretary and more of bonten’s secretary. and he found himself getting attached watching you flit around the headquarters like some maid. “ran, do you need help with that?” or “i’ll take the paperwork, don’t worry, kokonoi!” or “could someone please bring a warm tea up to mochi’s office?” 

you maneuvered your way into all of them, gentle touches and even gentler wordings ringing in their ears like a song. you were available, physically and maybe sometimes emotionally, but you stayed at arm’s length and mikey knew why. simply put, you were afraid. afraid of getting too close, afraid that you were disposable like the random grunts who pissed haru off. but you were especially afraid of mikey, all of them would kill or order someone to be killed without a single hesitation, but who did they bow down to? their king, who they all followed dutifully. high above the king reigned supreme, and who were you but a simple pawn? 

so you decided to drown in the work mikey gave you, heart hammering whenever he came too close. you needed this job, you needed to sustain yourself, you didn’t want to run back home, no you couldn’t run back home. even if you wanted to, you couldn’t put anyone you cared about in danger, not your parents nor your friends, knowing you stayed just a few feet away from the most dangerous men in Japan.

you had finished your work for today, finally done going through hours of mind-numbing paperwork. mikey had asked you to stay in late tonight and you had done just that, scrolling mindlessly on your phone waiting for your boss to come back. a means to distract yourself, since you loathed when it was just the two of you. that’s why you ran around the building like mad for other members that didn’t ignite your fight or flight. you hated the way your hands trembled when the door opened, automatically opening your texts with kakucho, not like he would come to your aid if you asked, never one to disobey his boss.

with the click of a lock, your stomach was flipping in waves, little alarm bells ringing through your brain and the grip on your phone became a little bit tighter. you could see him in your peripheral, the same expression as always, soulless, desolate, empty. sighing, he walked over to your desk, white locks falling by his eyes. there’s something on his mind as he reaches your desk, picking up some of your things, little trinkets you had gotten one day when ran mentioned how empty your desk was. he turns them in his hand, one by one, looking them over before setting them down. 

“s-so,” you start, cutting through the silence, voice already shaky. “what’d you need from me, boss?” your hands start to move, one smoothing over your thigh, the other clicking the lock screen button on your phone repeatedly. 

he doesn’t respond, instead sauntering to the couch and plopping down. he motions you over, two fingers up curled on his right hand, and you obey, slowly and shakily moving over. you sit opposite of him, trying to keep a good distance. if he’s upset by it, you can’t tell, dark eyes staring at you. 

“i’m lonely.” he states, eyes trailing over you. your heart pounds at what he could be inferring, there’s no way, right? he’s never made a move on you before, it’s always been strictly business, besides he’s had you make dozens of calls to satisfy his urges before. 

“oh! do you want me to make a call? i think, um, i think one of your girls should be free tonight, no?” you open your phone, contact: kakucho still visible on the top of your screen. are you alright? it reads, not realizing you had sent a text earlier, i’m scared. 

he’s fast, snatching the device from your hands and throwing it to the floor, theres a few clacks as it bounces away. “i don’t want em.” you’re trembling, chest heaving, as he’s the closest he’s ever been, leaning into you as you try to back away. your body reacts on its own, shrinking down into the plush cushions. you brace yourself, waiting for him to start grasping at your clothes, but he doesn’t. 

instead, one hand wraps around your wrist and gently tugs, “could.. you pretend you’re not scared of me? just for tonight?” his voice is so soft, whispery, and the hand around your wrist shakes lightly, like he’s the one who’s cornered.

you blink at him, there’s something in his eyes. something desperate and lonely, something that begs you to say yes. it melts away at your shaky core. just for tonight. you nod before adding, “i’ll try.” 

he moves closer still and you steady yourself, deep breaths to make sure you don’t flinch. “just pretend i’m kakucho or somethin’,” he mumbles, sinking his face into the crook of your neck. you blush, it’s not like you were into kakucho, he just made you feel comfortable. 

you’re still unsure what tonight will actually lead to, but you find yourself relaxing slightly in his arms. maybe it’s because you don’t have to do anything but stay there, in the embrace of a broken king.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, lips grazing your neck. 

“where?” you gulp, a hint of that cruddy feeling in your stomach, clammy hands fiddling with the fabric of his shirt. 

“here,” he breathes, pausing at your pulse-point. 

you mull it over, but just for a moment, before you mumble out a shaky, “okay.” 

he presses down and the kiss is soft, slow, and sweet. each time you anticipate that there will be something more, something harsh or heavy, there never is. every time he moves he asks again, “is it okay here?” and you say yes, over and over, as many times as he wants. 

eventually, your hands stop trembling with fear, but want. each time his lips hover over a new spot you find yourself breathing out a yes before he even asks. one of your absent minded hands card through the tresses of his hair, as he moves a hand to the top button of your dress shirt. 

“can i?” he asks, glancing up at you, a red tint on his cheeks. when you nod he seems to relax a bit as he slowly unbuttons your top revealing your bra underneath.

his hands ghost your exposed skin and you blush under his burning gaze. “you’re so beautiful.” his hands continue trailing, stopping at your waistband. “can-“ 

“yes,” you breathe, “you can.” it comes with an air of finality, the essence of letting go of your fear in return for what you desire. behind those cold, coal eyes, you think you see a spark, a dimly lit fire in the darkness of his soul. 

he’s a little bit faster, only slightly, wanting to relish in the way you’re under him as he slips the rest of your clothing off, slick cunt on display. you react to every touch, a whimper escaping your lips when he flits his fingers over your clit. 

he leans down, pressing his lips to yours. it’s tender, deep, and needy. he keeps kissing you as he slips one finger in, the gasp from your mouth allowing him to slip his tongue in. he inserts another, loving the way you arch up into him, messy tongues sliding over each other. he groans into you, feeling the way your needy cunt is already twitching on him, scissoring you open for later. 

“mikey..” you sigh in between kisses, drool running down the side of your mouth, “please,” grinding your hips into his hand. he pulls his hand out to undress himself and you whine, trying to find something to grind onto. he thinks you’re a greedy little thing, but it’s better than when you shy away from him, much better in fact. 

when he’s done, he hooks your legs up around his waist, giving his leaky cock a few pumps. he scans your face one more time as he lines up with your entrance, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop. he would if you wanted him to, but you give no indication, instead watching his cock with pretty, wanting eyes. 

like before, he’s slow as he pushes in, the tightness of your pussy around his cock has his mind spinning. for you, it’s a little uncomfortable, the stretch being something you never get used to no matter who it is, but the gentleness and earlier prep has you melting into him. as he bottoms out, hips flush with yours, he presses his forehead to yours before leaning in for another kiss. 

he stills for a bit, eyes shut, savoring the feel of your wet, tight cunt. how long has he wanted you? if he thinks about it, probably since the day he met you. 

“mikey?” you ask, and he snaps his eyes open. you’re so pretty, he thinks, as even prettier words leave your mouth. “p-please fuck me already.” 

you mewl into him as he starts to move, steady rolls of his hips into yours sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. he pants as he glances down, watching your greedy hole suck him in. 

“you feel so good,” he groans, “like you were fucking made for me.” using a particular harsh slam to punctuate his sentence.

your toes curl as the wet slap of skin reverberates throughout the room, before you’re putting your arms around him to tug him close, nails digging into his back. 

“you close, baby? gonna cum for me?” he murmurs into your ear, feeling you clench down on him. “you like that? you wanna be mine? want me to fill you up everyday, so everyone knows whose pussy this belongs to?”  he’s rambling now, eyes squeezed shut as your tight cunt continues to twitch on his cock. 

“yeah,” you babble back, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over, “‘m wanna be yours, want you to fuck me everyday,” he’s so deep and fills you up so well, you can’t help but want this. “f-fuck, mikey, i’m cumming!” you gasp, clamping down and creaming all over him, body shaking as you whimper into his neck to ride out your high. 

“good girl,” he groans, “such a good job, baby.” it’s sort of dream-like for him, the way you moan and whine as he fucks you makes him want to keep going. but the continuous twitch of your walls has his hips stuttering out as he fills you up, hot white ropes of seed washing over your walls. he collapses on you, head buried in your neck, wrapping his arms snugly around you. 

its quiet as the two of you bask in the afterglow, save for the ring of your phone. you peek over and squeak, trying to move mikey off of you, “ah, it’s kakucho, he’s-“ 

mikey places a finger on your lips, brows knit with a pout on his face as he presses hard down on you to keep you in place. it’s foreign to see your boss look so childlike, but it’s pretty cute, your heart fluttering at the sight. “you didn’t pretend earlier, so you’re not allowed to mention him now.” he grumbles, and you tilt your head to the side wondering what he’s talking about. 

“just pretend i’m kakucho or somethin’”. 

“o-oh,” you stammer when the realization hits. “right.” you stare at the ceiling, wondering how you ended up in such a predicament, not too long ago you couldn’t even be within the same room as him without panicking. now, you’re in his arms, skin to skin with his seed inside you, your cheek resting on his head. you don’t notice the absentminded stroke of your hand on the small of his back. 

but mikey does and is once again struck by how someone as gentle as you wormed their way into the worst crime syndicate. he’s not sure if it’s love, but it’s probably something close. he’s like putty in your arms, unwilling and unable to pull out, even as you shift your legs to find a comfier position. 

“let me stay here,” he mumbles, drowsiness taking over his limbs. “just for tonight, you can hate me again tomorrow.” but you know it’s not just for tonight anymore. there will be tomorrow night or maybe it’ll be next week, but you know you’ll find yourself in his arms again.

“i never…” you mumble, frowning, you want to say you’ve never hated him. you were just afraid, but the words don’t come out stuck on your tongue. 

“don’t worry about it.” he yawns and you nod, it’s so different right now. you’re afraid to say anymore and ruin the atmosphere. 

mikey has seen it all, but he thinks that the view of you is the best he's seen. it’s quiet again and he stays on you, in you, as the gentle rise of your chest lulls him to sleep. 

[nineevees]

general thoughts on the wk “our blue and green world” special (for funsies)

they had me in the beginning, by the end they completely lost me tho lolol

!! SPOILER WARNING FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN’T SEEN THE EPISODE YET !!

things i liked:

the intro was!! very good!! loved how they started in space and then gradually zoomed into earth, that was really fun :D

always excited to see how the background of the final shot changes in these specials !!

right away i am so glad they finally color corrected everything i couldn’t stand how bright everything was in season 6 T_T

chris being able to just effortlessly fold his t-shirts into a stack made me laugh lol

i don’t care if anyone says the song sounded flat as hell. the disbelief i had when it first came on. “what is this music what is goin- IS THIS A SONG??” the pure, unadulterated joy i experienced from it. it may be cringe but it has set me free.

idk. i’m just glad to see all these characters back after the hiatus :D

the resplendent quetzal is!! so cool!! so pretty!! i’d love an episode just dedicated to it

saw someone say this already but common aviva W for inventing two creature power discs at once !! it’s her world we are simply all living in it

BLUE WHALES ARE AS BIG AS TWO BRONTOSAURUSES?? waow

i think ever since i’ve gotten past the age of. elementary school. martin’s nicknames for animals have been kind of hit-or-miss for me? (though it might just depend on who’s writing the script i dunno) but i liked kablooey!! (kabluey?) it’s a very cute name :D

zach remembered that he has hacker bots he can use (which are. arguably his best invention?? i’m pretty sure?? i get why they don’t use them every single time zach shows up bc that would get old quickly but it establishes that despite being a whiny man-child who couldn’t tell a walrus from a wombat or a wallaby, he can still be a threat to the wk team)

indri lemur my beloved 🫶🫶

and everyone’s been talking about that so um. let me throw my hat into the ring then.

i can see the intention behind trying to redeem paisley, but it just. doesn’t really match with what’s been established by her character?

the entire special hit me with subsequent punches of “wow this is a kid’s show and i am NOT the target demographic” when they were talking about the water cycle and explaining global warming. so it makes sense, in a sort of wish-fulfillment kind of way that they’d try and redeem the villain whose goal is arguably the most realistic out of the main four.

zach’s main gimmick is using wild animals for his own technology. donita uses wild animals for fashion. gourmand cooks and eats wild animals. yes, the latter two can and do happen in real life (not… really sure about zach’s but that’s not the point). but paisley’s gimmick was never about harming animals, but destroying the environment they live in, in order to build things for humans instead. she’s the kind of person who you’d most likely encounter in real life. redeeming paisley has nothing to do with her character (a businesswoman who finds nature “yucky” as seen in the spirit bear and Asian elephant episodes), instead her general gimmick. wouldn’t it be nice if we could get the people destroying animals’ homes to truly see how beautiful nature can be? so much so that they stop trying to destroy it and instead attempt to help preserve it?

(this is just a personal nitpick but paisley’s new design absolutely is NOT working for me srry)

after i watched the special i had some ideas abt how it potentially could have gone instead?:

don’t redeem paisley at all: again, i get the general idea of why they did this but also. it doesn’t?? line up with her character at all?? the way she was acting in the beginning was fine and perfectly in character for her. she just wants nature out of the way in order to complete her plans, and she has no time for zach being overly concerned with the wild kratts. you could argue that her knowing that dolphins and whales weren’t fish but mammals was foreshadowing to her redemption, but like… paisley’s not dumb?? donita has also corrected zach on not knowing his animals in the past so unless you’re also going to argue for a possible donita redemption in the future then. yeah. i dunno. the other villains didn’t need a redemption to make the special they were in interesting, i don’t see how this one should be any different.

another redemption fake-out, but do it much earlier in the story: i have. my own gripes about how the plot of this special went but we’ll save that for later. have paisley initially be dismissive of the wild kratts’s presence, but once she learns that the kratt brothers are arguing and that aviva, koki, and jimmy are spending all of their time trying to get them to make up, pounce on that opportunity. have her go all over-the-top (like she did in her canon redemption) and trick the wild kratts into thinking she’s turned good, only for her to turn on them in the second half. this might be too similar to “a creature christmas” though. this one would take up more of the plot if that’s any consolation?

give a hint to a paisley redemption arc, but don’t make her do a complete 180 right away: if they’re adamant on redeeming paisley (again, i see the general idea behind this gimmick-wise), then they could still do it and make it fit with her character. remember that paisley’s intentions are not to harm animals, but their environment (which is not any better, making that clear). she can still have her awed-by-coral moment, but maybe. tone it down?? she can have second thoughts about going with the plan, but have zach or rex* encourage her to continue. she steels her resolve, but remembers the coral, and hesitates. and the kratt brothers use that last-minute hesitation to defeat zach’s zachbots and paisley’s pavers. have paisley question why she couldn’t go through with it as she and zach leave madagascar. you could have aviva or one of the other wild kratts theorize that paisley has started to have a change of heart after seeing what nature is capable of, if left to thrive. but again: don’t redeem her right away. hint at it, and then explore it whenever she appears as the main antagonist in an episode of season 7.

*i’m admittedly not caught up on all of wk, but like. did paisley fire rex or something. WHERE WAS HE THIS ENTIRE SPECIAL??

as for the plot point of the kratt brothers fighting… yeah that definitely could have gone better.

(again, minor nitpick but jimmy saying that this was the first time he’s seen the brothers fight,, then implied that it happened every single laundry day,, but also he’s definitely seen them fight before? or had disagreements at least?? isn’t that the premise of at least two different episodes not counting this special. this script is also Not My Favorite. not sure how to explain it but some of the dialogue seems a little awkward?)

ik that the brothers get into danger 24/7 but i feel like. martin should be a little bit concerned that chris was getting squeezed to death by a green anaconda?? like you don’t have to make him overtly worried to the point of apologizing, but you could at least. make him look at chris with concern? i get that the point is that “oh no the brothers are fighting so they won’t help each other when one’s in danger” but. martin your brother is dying STOP SMILING NONCHALANTLY.

the resolution between the brothers was. kind of rushed? all it took was chris complimenting martin (“nice one, bro!”) and then activating some creature powers and then everything was fine. is. is that all it took?

if you liked it then that’s 100% fine !! i’m glad you enjoyed it :D it just wasn’t for me

just my personal preference but i think i would have preferred it if we spent more time with the brothers solo (martin at sea and chris in the rainforest) and have them come to their realizations that the planet needs both blues and greens to thrive separately. like martin sees the planktonic soup and acknowledges that the creatures who live in the ocean need a little green to survive. or chris sees how important rivers are in the amazon and remembers how the rivers will eventually flow into the ocean. and both of the brothers remember their adventures with each other (or aviva, koki, and jimmy remind them). they can still be stubborn and not forgive each other, but i’d like them to at least like. acknowledge each other’s pov and respect it.

or: do something with aviva trying to program two creature power suits at once (the brothers are both in madagascar at this point). like, what if there was a creature power suit malfunction where martin is a blue whale at first, but then turns into an indri. and chris starts our as an indri but then his suit malfunctions and he becomes a blue whale. the bros swap places, with martin going on land and chris going to sea, and then they realize that the other had a point - the land is home to so many wonderful creatures and so are the oceans. and how both are connected and make the earth their home. boom, reconciliation.

also another personal preference thing, i really wish they spent more time with kablooey/kabluey and mambiky (?). i’m here for cool creatures and i wanna see more of the cool creatures !! is that so much to ask for !!

also also. i think the indri-conda was born bc someone saw the pun potential and to that i say. no comment.

i still have. a lot of thoughts but i think i’ll just leave it there for now. ik i criticized it a lot but i did genuinely enjoy the special :D i’m happy to have the brothers back from hiatus and can’t wait to watch the other episodes !!