#and sometimes the progress bar just disappears for hours...

[mcmadcanvas]

Multi paragraph long post lost to the uploading nether realm just bc it was a video post..

[pankowcrumbs]

By chance X Will Poulter

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

It was a summer evening in London, the kind where the sun lingered just a bit longer, casting a golden hue over the city. My sister, Tessa, had convinced me to join her for a drink at a local pub she frequented. The place was bustling, with patrons spilling out onto the pavement, laughter and chatter filling the air.​

We found a small table near the window, the perfect spot to people-watch and enjoy the evening breeze. As we settled in, I noticed the table next to us was occupied by two men, both engrossed in conversation.​

Tessa, ever the social butterfly, struck up a conversation with the one closest to her. "Excuse me," she said with a smile, "but I couldn't help overhearing your accent. Are you from around here?"​

The man chuckled, "Guilty as charged. Born and bred in London."​

Introductions were made, and we learned his name was Jack. The man sitting across from him, who had been quietly observing, was Will.​

As Tessa and Jack delved into a lively discussion about their favourite local spots, I found myself in a polite conversation with Will. He was reserved but kind, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiled.​

"So, what brings you to this part of town?" he asked.​

"My sister' just moved here," I replied, nodding towards Tessa. "She insisted this pub has the best atmosphere."​

He nodded, "It's a good choice. I come here often with Jack."​

Our conversation flowed naturally, touching on everything from favourite books to travel experiences. There was an ease between us, a quiet understanding that made the bustling pub fade into the background.​

As the evening progressed, Tessa and Jack suggested moving to another venue for drinks. Will and I exchanged amused glances, both aware that our companions were more interested in each other than us.​

We followed them to a nearby bar, the four of us weaving through the lively streets of London. The city was alive, its energy infectious.​

After a few more drinks, Tessa and Jack decided to head back to her place. As we walked, We realised Will and Her lived just a few houses apart.​

"Small world," he remarked, his tone light.​

"Indeed," I replied, smiling.​

Upon reaching our doorstep, Tessa and Jack disappeared inside without so much as a backward glance. Will turned to me, a sheepish expression on his face.​

"Would you like to come over to mine for a bit? I have a feeling we might be waiting a while if we stay here."​

I laughed, "That sounds like a good idea."​

His flat was cosy, with warm lighting and shelves lined with books and DVDs. We settled on the couch, a film playing softly in the background.​

As we chatted, I couldn't shake the feeling that Will looked familiar. His mannerisms, his voice it all seemed oddly recognisable.​

"Have we met before?" I asked, tilting my head.​

He chuckled, "Not that I recall. But I do get that a lot."​

I narrowed my eyes, studying him. "Wait a minute... You're that actor, aren't you? From um...." I had to think hard for a moment before it came to me "'We're the Millers' and 'The Maze Runner' right?

He grinned, a hint of pink colouring his cheeks. "Guilty."​

I laughed, "I can't believe I didn't recognise you sooner."​

He shrugged, "It's nice to be seen as just Will sometimes."​

We spent the rest of the evening talking, the hours slipping by unnoticed. There was a comfort in his presence, a sense of familiarity that felt both new and enduring.​

As dawn approached, I realised how much I had enjoyed our time together. Meeting Will had been unexpected, but it felt like the beginning of something special.​

The first blush of morning slipped through Will’s living room curtains, casting soft light across the floor. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the brightness, my head resting against the armrest of his sofa. The telly had gone quiet, and the credits of the film we’d half-watched were long gone. Somehow, even after I’d found out who he was, the conversation hadn’t changed. He was just… Will. Funny, thoughtful, polite.

I stretched gently and looked over to see him curled in the armchair, legs tucked up, watching me with a sleepy smile.

“Morning,” he said, voice rough with sleep.

“Morning,” I replied, smiling back. “Sorry I fell asleep. That’s rude, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, brushing a hand through his hair. “Not at all. You looked comfortable. Didn’t want to wake you.”

There was a pause, the kind that usually feels awkward but with him, it didn’t. It just felt… easy.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Fancy some breakfast? There’s a spot down the road I go to sometimes proper greasy. Bit of a local gem.”

I sat up, brushing a hand through my own sleep-ruffled hair. “That sounds brilliant, actually. I'm starving.”

“Good,” he said, grabbing his keys from the coffee table. “Let me grab a hoodie and we’ll go.”

It was still early enough that the streets were quiet, but the city was beginning to stir shop shutters rattling open, the scent of fresh bread wafting from a bakery nearby, and birds fluttering through trees that lined the street. We walked side by side, hands occasionally brushing but never quite meeting.

The café was tucked down a side street, unassuming and a bit scruffy, but filled with warmth and the comforting aroma of frying bacon and brewing tea. The woman behind the counter greeted Will like an old friend.

“Back again, love?” she called.

“You know I can’t stay away,” he replied, grinning. “Got a guest today though. This is Y/n.”

Her eyes flicked to me, and her face lit up. “Ooh, you’re gorgeous. Well done, Will.”

I laughed, cheeks flushing as I murmured, “Thank you.”

We sat at a corner table, the seats a bit wobbly. But it was perfect. We ordered full English breakfasts and tea in mugs the size of small buckets. I watched as Will poured sugar into his tea, stirring absentmindedly.

“So,” I asked, “what does Will Poulter do on a typical Sunday?”

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Lie in. Pretend I’m going to do something productive. End up watching telly instead. You?”

“Long walk if the weather’s nice. Maybe a bit of writing. I journal sometimes.”

He smiled softly. “That’s cool. You don’t meet many people who still do that.”

We lingered over breakfast, talking about everything from childhood memories to our worst kitchen disasters. He told me about his dog growing up and I confessed I’d once set fire to a tea towel trying to flambé bananas.

By the time we left, the sun was high and the streets were bustling. But neither of us wanted to say goodbye just yet.

“Feel like walking off all that bacon?” he asked, adjusting his hoodie sleeves.

“Absolutely.”

So we walked.

We wandered aimlessly, through winding streets, across quiet squares, and down shaded paths where the trees formed leafy canopies. We passed market stalls setting up, vintage shops just unlocking their doors. Every now and then, we stopped at a bakery window, a street performer, a dog that absolutely demanded our attention.

And then it happened.

We were walking side by side again when his hand brushed mine. This time, he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he hesitated for a beat and then gently laced his fingers through mine.

It was quiet between us for a moment. The kind of quiet that says everything words don’t need to.

I looked at him. “You’re holding my hand.”

He glanced at our joined fingers and then back at me, his cheeks colouring. “Yeah. Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” I said, smiling. “It’s more than alright.”

He squeezed my hand softly.

Something had shifted. It wasn’t just two people thrown together by circumstance anymore. It was something warmer, more deliberate. Like we were choosing this. Choosing each other, even if we didn’t quite know where it was heading yet.

We ended up sitting on a bench by the river, watching the Thames roll lazily by. The city buzzed around us, but in our little bubble, it felt like time had slowed.

“I can’t believe I didn’t recognise you last night,” I said, resting my head against his shoulder. “I mean, you’re literally in Marvel films.”

He chuckled. “It was kind of refreshing, actually. No one calling me a character name, just… Will.”

“I think I like this version of you,” I teased. “Mildly awkward, sweet, and willing to offer sanctuary from my sister’s very loud sex life.”

He laughed again, throwing his head back. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

It was late afternoon by the time we made our way back. When we reached my front door, Will turned to me.

“I had a really good time,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Me too.”

He hesitated. “Would you want to do this again? Maybe… not just by accident?”

My heart fluttered in a way it hadn’t in a long time. “Definitely.”

He leaned in, not for a kiss, but to press his forehead gently to mine. The gesture was so tender, so intimate, it nearly knocked the air out of me.

“Good,” he murmured.

We said our goodbyes, and as I stepped inside, Tessa was already sprawled on the couch in one of Jack’s hoodies, grinning at me like the cat who got the cream.

“So…” she said, drawing the word out like a string.

I just smiled, closing the door behind me. “So…”

She gasped. “You like him.”

“I really do.”

And that was the beginning.

Breakfasts that turned into brunches, texts that turned into long evening phone calls, and quiet walks that ended with shy kisses beneath streetlights. We took our time. There was no rush, no pressure. Just something steady and soft and full of promise.

Every time he reached for my hand, it felt just as electric as the first time.

And even now, thinking about it, I still smile.

[dystychiphxbia]

☆ - Gym crush!

gn!reader

im just in my gym rat era so i had to do this...i didnt want this to be the first fic i publish but here we are...

v small nsfw mention in sae's part

characters; kunigami, sae, rin

Kunigami Rensuke;

pre-wc;

you meet at the gym, both relatively new to it

you learn together, always trying out new things

never ask for each other's number but still somehow end up at the gym at the same time

"what are you hitting today?" "it's leg day" "aw sucks to be you...jk i'll join you"

"need a spotter?"

he's definitely your gym crush and you always try to look extra good in front of him

trust me he's doing the same

always helps you rerack your weights!

gym bros till death do you apart

death or...blue lock.

post-wc;

kunigami just disappears for MONTHS and comes back like nothing happened

except now he wont even greet you

he completely ignores you when you ask him where he's been

you are motivated to show him your progress but you don't see him even glancing at you

"need a spotter" you would ask him, but he would simply say you are too weak

and looking at his weights, he's right

like damn how many plates is he squatting??

he would still save you if you failed a bench press though

"thanks...but i would've gotten it" "stop lying to urself"

maybe he warms up to you eventually...

i mean you never stopped going to the gym, it shows your resolve

and you didn't change at all, you still work as hard as ever and look so damn good while doing so.

Itoshi Rin;

he noticed how every sunday, you would run on the treadmill for at least an hour straight

how fast are u going??? he would always try to sneak a glance at your settings when he walks past

he would also do his warm ups on the treadmills, secretly cheering when only the one next to you is available

one sunday, you aren't there

he's actually...worried? you are there every single sunday, so why not now?

he's so relieved to see you there the sunday after that, maybe you were just sick

the thing is, he doesn't see you on any other days. he's hoping it's just cause you go at a different time, and not because you only go on sundays...

nah you have too much muscle for you to only go to gym once a week to run

but he wont change his workout times just for some person he sees once a week at the gym...until he does.

he starts going a bit earlier and later, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of you

it takes a while but he's finally there at the same time as you

you notice him, "i havent seen you here at this time before"

he's flustered, you've actually noticed him and are now talking to him???

"yeah, just changing things up a bit." he just wanted to see u!!

u always ask him to spot you and he just cant say no

one time you almost got crushed under the bar because he was busy admiring your face

yeah...he definitely has a crush on you!! but will he ever take it a step further...probably not. have you noticed...? of course you have, that's exactly why you always ask him.

Itoshi Sae;

this guy has been watching you squat since day 1

eyes glued to your ass, maybe it wasn't so impressive in the beginning but it definitely is now

he makes sure to always be at the gym when it's your squat day

of course you've noticed...you make sure to wear those gym pants that make your ass look so good!!

sometimes he stares for too long, suddenly realizing that he's just been sitting for 10 minutes

one day you come up to him, saying that you are gonna attempt a pr and need a spotter

jesus christ he almost choked on his drink

"sure." staying as cool as ever.

but watching your ass from so close almost stirs up a problem in his pants

"good job." he'll say to you afterwards, walking off.

you are kind of disappointed, he's always looking at you and that's all you get??

but no worries he'll be thinking of that sight for a while!!

slowly adjusts his schedule so that he's always coming on the same days as you

makes sure that only he spots you

also makes sure that no one else glances your way when you are squatting

cause you are HIS gym crush, not anyone else's

one day he finally gets the courage to actually talk to you

he's surprised when you call him by his name but then he remembers that he's basically a celebrity

you introduce yourself, and he's so close to asking you out on the spot

"i've seen you play on the tv, you are so good! i'd love to learn to play!"

Perfect.

he asks u to come with him to the field after your workout for lesson number one

about damn time, you think

playing football after a leg workout wasn't the easiest but maybe sae made it a bit easier for you to manage

[inactivewattpadauthor]

Shang Tsung x Witch Reader: I've Changed

Context: After finally escaping the void, Shang slips from supervision briefly to meet and request the help of an old friend. (Shaky ass friendship ngl) ~~~~~~~~~~~~ The old wooden clock on the wall ticks, filling the only sound in the empty shop. The short hand lines with the tenth hour, making you relieved to flip your sign close. Another easy day done at your little potion store. Despite the little shack being a bit older and you get few customers each day, you were always proud of your progress.

You were proud to say you changed, once a typical barbaric witch, anew to a positive person. You stopped damning people with cruel spells and toxic potions, now you sold mostly healing/soothing ones, along giving spare lessons to those who wish to learn witchcraft. Sometimes, it's the other way around. There's always new things to learn.

Sweeping the dust off the creaking floorboards, you were startled as you were about to trip over a black ball of fur. "Oh- Raven! Jeez, I didn't see you." A meow was in response, your kitten peeking up at you, the only eye he has shining.

Gently you shooed him away so you could finish sweeping. "I'll give you a snack once I'm done, go on now." You tapped his bottom and chuckle when he runs off.

The welcome chimes of your door ring, abruptly distracting you. "Store's closed!" You groan out. Ugh, can't they see the sign? You kept your thoughts to yourself.

Slow footsteps sounded closer to you. "My, just look at you." That voice! You peer up to see an old face, literally and figuratively. Your hand released the ratchet broom, letting it hit the floor. You felt some sort of nostalgia, yet confusion. "Shang Tsung? All these years... where have you been?" You step closer to him.

The old man explains. His disappearance was caused by the Titaness Kronika after having no use for him any longer, casted outside the realms in some prison. All those years in his absence, you missed him prior to your change, but now he's here. The sorcerer grabs your hand, kissing it gently. One of his ways on showing affection to you when you both were still a duo of despair. "You've aged well." He comments.

Now, he focuses on the old shop. "So while I was missing, you put your devotion into this worn down hut?" The sorcerer asks. You can hear the hidden mockery in his voice. He looks at the potions on the shelves, and you knew he would find them comical. None of them were labelled poison or dangerous, all such themed beneficial items. Part of him was worried you would go soft.

"Yeah, business is well." You state, defending your dignity. "The store's closed, and I still have errands tonight, so I can't quite catch up with you at the mome-"

"I came here for your help, Y/n." Shang Tsung interrupts. Picking up a pinkish elixir, he glances at you with tease. "Love potions?"

"That's for serotonin releases." You remove the bottle from his distrustful hands. You knew he's joking, but it's distasteful. "Love potions are vile. It's no better than going to a bar and spiking someone's drink." You explain in disgust, yet Shang still carries his smirk.

He hasn't changed, of course. I miss him, but I need him to leave. "What do you need?"

"I need your spells, your power, Y/n. The ones that always brought great suffering to those. But great amusement to us." He rubs his gray beard as he requests apathetically. "I plan to keep working with Raiden and Fujin up to Kronika's Keep. If everything goes as my plan, I can rule over many worlds. We can rule over many worlds."

"No." You shake your head immediately. "I'm past all of that. I use my powers and knowledge for good now and I hope that is something you respect. Feel free to do whatever you like, but count me out."

The man is unsurprise, but presses on with you. "Changed for the better? What happened to you?"

"I found faith in the Elder Gods." You shrug. "Along with that, I feel disgusted with my former self. Not that you'd get it, but all those people we hurt..." You cringed and turn away from him in utter shame.

"I assume you're disgusted with me too?" Shang asks.

"Well, yeah, but it's not like you'd stop. And I can't stop you neither."

He agrees with you. Harming others was like his number one hobby other than evil schemes. But if you really have a change in heart, he wouldn't force you. "It saddens me to see that wicked heart turn gold. Oh well. When I get Kronika's throne to myself, I'll have your place beside me - if you want." He offers, circling you with his charming glance. You gave him an annoyed look like he didn't actually heed you.

"You don't have to hurt anyone." He raises his hands. "But you could end up the best enchantress across universes, or better yet, a titaness beside me."

"No, sorcerer." You sigh and deny him again. "I'm happy here. You're my friend, but I don't think I'd be comfortable on the side of a villain. It's fine enough if I just focus on my own thing."

"Very well." He steps back and bows. "I shall be going now before someone notices my disappearance. After my goals, I will return to you just for friendly measures. We didn't speak for a long period after all."

"Okay." A huge part of you wasn't rooting for it, but you were fine with chatting with a friend time to time. "And if you don't and end up fading out of existence, it was always nice having you - minus the malicious activities."

"Likewise, my friend. You were always a fantastic woman." ~~~~~~~~~~~~ A/N for both Wattpad/Tumblr. Mostly just a vent but:

 1. I feel the writer's block coming :') future writings are expected to have less quality as I'm running out of ideas and motivation. I literally had to go back to posting every 6 days instead of 3 so I don't end up running out of posts.

2. A friendly reminder - I'M NOT TAKING REQUESTS.

 Not trying to pick at anyone but there's 2 places on both Wattpad + Tumblr that says I'm not doing request, yet people will still request a fic. I admit, I will leave those on read until they message me more times which makes me more annoyed. 

I'm down for fun questions/ discussions when I have the time, like if someone wants to talk about our lord and savior, Fujin. But I repeat one last time, I'm not making fics for anyone. You have better authors that will be happy to write for you.

[113457]

Fortis's List of Ways to Get Sapphires In AJPW

I see a lot of jammers ask in-game how to get sapphires, so here's as many tips as I know on getting them:

Log in daily to claim a prize from the Daily Spin. There's a chance every day to win 5 (sometimes more) sapphires. Sometimes there's a sapphire reward just for logging several days in a row on top of the Daily Spin.

Play games for achievements. Click the game icon in the top bar, and click the sapphire icon along the side of the games menu. This gives you a list of goals that reward sapphires as you progress. This is especially great for getting your first sapphires.

Dig up Dig Spots. Every few minutes in an area, a golden shovel spawns. Clicking it brings up a small digging mini-game, where you can occasionally dig up sapphires.

Shake the gem tree every hour. When you join a Pack and visit the Hideout, there's a tree that drops gems and occasionally sapphires when clicked on twice. More currency grows every hour.

Fight Phantoms. Jammers often summon Phantoms in Appondale using Phantom Howl potions, and when defeated they give out a random prize, including sapphires. To join in the fight, you need a Paintseed Launcher and some Paintseeds. You can get a launcher for free from the "Phantom Fighter" mission. You can easily claim 18 Paintseeds for free every day- 9 from the Alpha Headquarters, and 9 from the Lost Temple of Zios in the Phantom Dimension. If you want, you can buy a tree for 100 sapphires which gives 9 seeds every hour. To visit the dimension, you don't need to buy the portal- you can use the portal of a fellow Jammer. Just ask a buddy or around town if anyone has one you can use. (More on the Phantom dimension later.) This is a good method if you have a lot of seeds and friends to fight alongside you.

Go nocturnal hunting. AJPW has day and night cycles that last around 90 minutes each. During the night, nocturnal animals will spawn in various areas. It seems to help that you stay in an area for a few minutes, and then the animals will start spawning. If you leave the area, any animals will despawn and you have to wait all over again, so be careful. Clicking a nocturnal animal makes it disappear and give you a random prize. This is a good method if you have keen eyes and a lot of patience. Be sure to shout out any animals you see for your fellow jammers! Nocturnal hunting has an associated mission.

Find blooming flowers. As opposed to nocturnal hunting, every few minutes in the daytime, a small shower of rain occurs, after which a bushel of flowers blooms in the land. Clicking it rewards with gems, sapphires, or a flower-themed item. Just like the animals, it despawns if you leave the room. This has an associated mission.

Find golden snowflakes. When it storms in Mt. Shiveer, every few minutes a huge golden snowflake lands in the area and occasionally rewards sapphires. It makes a twinkling sound effect and is honestly pretty hard to miss if you're checking.

Attend a Sapphire Drop party. Some Jammers host parties at their dens where they use Super Sapphire Potions to gift sapphires to everyone in the room. Lots of times people abbreviate this to "Sap drop" and advertise in Jamaa Township or other popular areas. Please don't repeatedly ask people to drop sapphires, but ask politely if anyone is hosting a sapphire drop party.

Visit the Phantom Dimension. The Giant Phantom Phlob lives in the Phantom Dimension's Mount Shiveer, which is locked behind at least 25 defeated Phantoms. When you meet them, you can feed them a Paintseed and they reward you with a randomly selected prize, which very occasionally includes sapphires or a super sapphire potion. In addition to the Phlob, in a random area is the dimension's own traveling salesman, who sells super sapphire potions for 3,500 coins. Visiting the Phlob has an associated quest!

Sell things in a My Shop. This requires saving up sapphires in the first place, since My Shops can't be traded between jammers, and must be bought from the Sapphire Shop for 100 sapphires. If you have unwanted items, especially ones that are more obscure or uncommon, then people will probably enjoy browsing your shop and buying things for sapphires. Check with the Shop Explorer in Coral Canyons to compare common prices with what you might want to price your own items at.

My personal favourite methods are nocturnal hunting (which is especially more fun if you have people hunting and chatting with you), and fighting phantoms (especially if you find a busy server where people are repeatedly summoning them)! If you're a member and have the ability to reroll, make good use of it while you got it ::-)

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Vampyr - Dance in Blood - Door.6

warning : fluff, kiss

The calendar

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At night in London, when everyone was asleep and the cold winter temperatures moved through the cracks of the houses and apartments, everyone just snuggled together even more.

The rat-catcher to his dog and cat, the family to each other and the love pass was lying naked in front of the fireplace.

But it wasn't just the population that stayed warm, even in the only place besides the bars and the pubs, there was still a light burning in the Pembroke Hospital.

There was always light until it was slowly replaced by the sun's rays in the morning. But they burned from morning to night from January to December.

It burned and burned. But it was in winter that the light bulbs, which were always running at full power, sometimes reached their limits.

The limits of technology and progress. It was not uncommon, especially in the winter months, for nurses to be frightened when the light bulbs above them flickered and shattered in the cold.

They didn't get hurt, but it was still dangerous. But in times of a pandemic and deaths, the hospital couldn't take care of it perosnally, at least not immediately.

And the longer they had to deal with their tasks, they knew they would soon be standing in a shower of candles and torches.

To everyone's regret, the entire main hall was covered in candles that provided light and warmth. But candles could not only give warmth and light...they also led to love.

,,My dear, don't you want to take a break? You've been working for almost a day," she heard her darling's voice and felt the doctor running after her as she ran to the cupboard with the medication.

,,Jonathan, you can do it, you have the time...you have all the time...but I don't, there are so many patients to see," she said and leaned against him for a moment as she felt his hands on her hips. His cold was pleasant, not as icy as the winter outside.

Jonathan's warmth was more inviting than any winter could ever be. She could smell the blood and smoke on him and she felt her heart ache at the thought that he had to leave in a few hours.

But while she took care of the people, he took care of the living dead. ,,Then give me another hour and I'll come back for you," he demanded, his voice calm, not wanting to irritate her before she felt his kiss on her cheek before he disappeared into the shadows and left her alone.

She knew exactly that he appreciated her ability to act and loved her for it. But he also knew that she needed a break and a break he would give her.

She lost herself in her work for another hour, barely paying attention to the clock. Not noticing how most of the nurses lay down for an hour and the doctors took some of the work off the women's hands.

All except one. His darling wanted to go up the stairs again to fetch new bandages when she saw him emerge from the darkness.

Saw the bouquet of flowers in his hands, saw how it was snowing outside and a few of the snowflakes flew onto the tiles of the entrance area.

Saw how he came towards her and she couldn't help but accept the flowers. ,,A break like I said my love" he insisted and she took his hand. She didn't know if he wanted to hug her or just look at her.

Before she saw the candles that had already gone out light up, the darkness in the corners increased and only the two of them existed in the flaming ice mixture. ,,A quiet dance for the cold break," he whispered and she smiled as he began to take her hand and position her.

,,A little break," she replied and gave him a grateful kiss before he started to move and she let him lead her. He held her and felt her lean against him and he grinned as she relaxed.

,,A Christmas break," he murmured before he extinguished the candles with a flick of his wrist through the shadows and cradled her in his arms. He went back to his office and laid her down on his bed, knowing that she had more than earned her break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lordgrimwing]

Omen: BITE #01

Fëanor sat on a three-legged stool just outside the fiber shed in the warming morning air. A distaff stood beside him, golden flax fibers held in place against the light breeze by a string. Wetting his fingers in the bowl resting on the knee of the leg he wasn't using to keep the spinning wheel turning, he reached up to the distaff and pulled a few more strands down to add to the thread. 

He'd been at this for several hours, since guiding Maedhros through the morning animal chores, Laurë tagging along though she was still too small to be of much help with anything other than the chickens. Yesterday, Nerdanel said the planting season would be upon them in a few more days, and they would all be too busy to find time to spin the processed flax fibers. He wanted another ten skeins ready for mangling so the children could entertain themselves while their parents were still out in the fields. 

He'd send Maedhros and Laurë away after the chores to help their mother with their younger siblings and to play. There wouldn't be much time for that once planting started and the rest of the homestead woke up from the sleepy grip of winter, at least not for several weeks. Now, he worked in contented quiet, the whirring of the spinning wheel a steady accompaniment to the clucking and scratching of roaming chickens.

The kitchen door squeaked open, and out toddled little Celegorm. He was just about two years old now, learning to navigate the world on his own and constantly slipping away as soon as people took their attention off of him, which was a lot easier now that he had a new little brother. Fëanor respected the tenacity even if it sometimes left him scrambling to find the toddler before he got into too much trouble.

Seeing that this time Celegorm was making his determined way across the yard toward Fëanor, he decided to just keep an eye on his progress.

Halting step after halting step, the child made his way from the door and out into the yard. He moved forward with determination, his little eyebrows set in serious lines, his mouth tight with focus. He had a goal to reach before anyone inside noticed his disappearance.

Without looking away, Fëanor reached up and pulled down a few more fibers to add to the thread. His foot pressed the pedal rhythmically, keeping the wheel spinning at a constant speed without thought. 

Celegorm toddled onward.

A hen pecked her way across the yard, eyes focused on the ground as she searched for the first insects or earliest sprouts. Large, with black and white barred feathers, she enjoyed a spot at the top of the flock’s pecking order. Used to a certain degree of respect from the other animals, she clucked to herself with little regard for the world beyond the end of her beak.

Fëanor saw the collision coming.

Celegorm took one last step forward. His arms pinwheeled out to the sides as the hefty bird bumped against his thighs. He swayed, and the hen, irritated, pecked at his toes. With a little cry of mixed surprise and pain, he went down.

He tumbled over the bird, knocking her down as he went. She squawked and flapped her wings, battering his bare legs with stiff feathers as she tried to righted herself. With very ungraceful flopping, she extricated herself from the undignified heap they became. Ruffling and puffing out her feathers, she gave a parting peck to the boy's heel and returned to the most important task of finding food.

Celegorm lay sprawled out, arms extended flat across the ground and face planted in the damp grasses. He hadn't quite managed to catch himself with his hands on the way down. 

Fëanor paused his spinning, foot coming off the pedal and fingers pinching the end of the thread. He watched his son's back rise and fall under his little shirt, waiting to see how he would respond.

After a few seconds, Celegorm raised his head and stuck his tongue out as he coughed out several blades of grass and some dirt. His scrunched up face looked like he was confused or thinking very hard more than about the cry, and Fëanor relaxed on his stool. The spinning wheel started up again as he pulled down more flax strands and offered an encouraging smile.

Remembering that he had a destination other than the soft ground, the toddler got his knees under himself and shakily climbed to his feet. He had a scrape on his thigh from a stone and scratches on his legs from the chicken, but he ignored these as he started forward again, determined to cross the half-dozen yards to his father. Fëanor let his attention drift back to his work now that he was safely on his way again.

After one more stumble over a particularly uneven patch of ground, he finally arrived. 

Fëanor felt short arms reach part way around his side. He looked down.

Celegorm stood next to the stool and smiled up at his father as he gave him as big a hug as he could manage. Green grass stuck to his teeth in a couple spots and he had dirt on his nose.

“Papa,” He giggled.

Fëanor dropped a hand to the boy’s head and lightly tousled the thin, pale hair. “Hello, Cele.”

Celegorm turned his face into his side, nuzzling his nose back and forth. He pressed his lips together and tried giving a raspberry kiss, but it was decidedly unrewarding on fabric instead of skin.

Fëanor snorted. "Silly goose," He said and reached up for flax.

Without warning, sharp little teeth clamped into the flesh just above his hip. Even though they were small, Celegorm's jaws pinched down painfully tight.

Fëanor's foot stuttered on the pedal and the wheel made an unhappy sound when he pressed down too soon and too hard.

"Ah!" He exclaimed, grabbing for the aching spot with one hand, the other desperately clinging to the end of the thread.

Celegorm ducked out of the way, pulling back and out of his father's reach. "Hehe," He laughed, pure excitement etched across his face.

“No,” Fëanor reprimanded him, still clutching his side.

The toddler made a burbling sound with his lips, stuck out a very wet tongue, and ran away as fast as he could toward the safety of the house.

Groaning, Fëanor pulled his hand away, checking the shirt for a tear or bleeding. There was evidence of neither of those, and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Maedhros!” He shouted, rubbing at the aching spot to soothe it. “Get Celegorm! He’s biting again!”

Realizing the coming roadblock to his escape route, Celegorm turned hard away from the house. He stumbled but regained his balance and kept running, skinny arms pumping hard as he headed for the barn.

The back door flew open. Maedhros stepped out, head already swiveling to find his wayward brother.

“Barn,” Fëanor directed, turning his attention to the kinks that worked their way into the thread while he was otherwise distracted. 

“Sorry,” The boy said, referring to both for letting the toddler slip away and the biting.

His father shook his head, brushing aside the apologetic words. “Just catch him.”

Maedhros nodded and jogged after his brother.

[thotbugatti]

The Audra Diaries

Hi so I’m doing the second episode so soon after the first because I watched the pilot yesterday and just finished episode 2. Only just got around to posting it here a little while ago. It won’t always be like this, I want to try to just do one per day at most.

Season 1 Episode 2

* so if Stefan is over a century old, what are the implications of him being attracted to a high school girl

* The way they’re not afraid to use blood as liberally as they do for a show made for teens on cable tv is fascinating to me

* How old is the aunt? She looks like she’s only a few years older than Elena

* Some of these teachers are fucking dicks man

* Nice faux hawk bro nice deep v bro

* Bro said dick on cable tv

* I feel a little bad for Matt but also like you might need to get over her man

* I hate this teacher so fucking much oh my god GO TO HELL

* if she’s deeply traumatized from almost being murdered why would you just grab her like that

* A vampire walking into a room with so much blood must be like an alcoholic walking into a bar during happy hour huh

* Jump his bones? What is that, stoner talk?

* Jeremy is a freshman?? How

* “You get high? 😏”

* So if she survived a vampire attack does that mean she’s going to turn into a vampire too?

* Kiss him girl he wonts u bad

* Now idk if you should be walking into this creepy old house girl

* Sotheby’s auction?

* YOUNG MAN KILL YASELF (old man?)

* She’s got…spunk…

* Nice deep V douche

* Jeremy is trying so hard to be the cool rebellious teen but man he sucks at it

* I thought vampires didn’t have reflections how did Damon show up in the mirror

* The way these guys just randomly disappear all the time must make these girls think they’re schizophrenic sometimes

* Where is Jeremy getting all these pills

* “You seem to spend a lot of time apologizing” me

* Why is she so hung up on his supposed ex he’s into YOU girl

* Okay, now this is epic

* What is her problem why is she mad at him he’s into you girl

* “Are you dealing?!”

* The way she treats Jeremy it’s almost as if she forgot their parents are dead and very recently too

* KILL YASELF YOUNG MAN

* I took some pills mannn

* Damon’s a little goober trickster weirdo (and an evil freak)

* Caroline is a BITCH wow

* “She kinda wigs out it’s kinda her thing” CHECK ON YOUR FRIEND

* Don’t talk about your dead sister like this to her daughter Jenna why is everyone so strange in this show

* I’m sorry but there’s no way this kid is 15

* Don’t attack Caroline Damon she wonts u bad

* Elena and Damon have known each other for three minutes why does she act like this

* It was EPIC

* So are you gonna tell her that you’re a vampire since you guys like to pretend that you’ve known each other for so long cause it’s kinda important I think

Right, so, I’m not sure how to feel about this episode honesty. It doesn’t really feel like much progress was made in advancing the plot. In fact, they just kind of did more of the same from the pilot. Elena and Stefan do some more of the “will they wont they” dance, Jeremy wanders after Vicki like a wounded dog; Damon attacks some more people, Stefan struggles around blood, the episode ends with another girl getting attacked. I’m also kind of realizing that most of the people in this town are terrible people. Nobody seems to know how to talk to each other like normal people. In reality, it’s probably just CW writing, but it’s making it hard to like a lot of the characters. I’m not really sure who I’m meant to be rooting for aside from Stefan and Elena. This is only the second episode though, so I wont be too harsh and actually give them a chance to get it going.

[owlixx]

Call of Duty Classic Mid-Thoughts (US Campaign Done):

Surprised to see this one has aiming down sights. Having 4 “weapons” to switch between is cumbersome. No regenerating health is cumbersome. Glad I picked the easy difficulty. Menu is hilariously old-fashioned. The end of level fade to black is so funny to me. The short short levels and long long load screens are to funny to me. Seems like automatic weapons are way better. I am relying heavily on aim assist. No sprinting is rough. I miss hitmarkers. Ammo management is weird in this game, like all the spare bullets disappear if you drop a gun and then pick it back up.

I am enjoying the brisk pace, I was able to beat the USA portion of the game in a single sitting which is a third of the game, didn’t even take 2 hours I think. Melee feels weak. Pistols feel pointless and I haven’t used grenades much yet. Did get stuck for a bit because one enemy was alive hiding while I made my way to the actual objective but I needed to go back and kill him to progress the plot. So funny seeing Captain Price here!!!

So far my favorite parts have been the mansion raid because it was at least a distinct environment and the timed prison raid because it felt more like I was in an action movie. The mounted machine guns are so hard to use. Scopes are useless if you ever get shot at even a little which sucks because it’s the only way to take out mounted machine guns sometimes but they can hit you from a mile

away. Bad game design: the combo of being forced to drop a gun to pick up a single used rocket launcher plus losing all spare ammo when dropping and then picking up a gun again.

It’s just so funny to me that this released on PS360 when it did (2009) for 20 bucks or bundles with MW2. It’s clearly a pretty low effort port of a game no one was particularly nostalgic for, and it starts the trend of weird remasters in this series along with Modern Warfare Remastared and Modern Warfare 2 Campaign Remastered, although you could argue that MW, WaW, BO1, MW2, MW3 on Wii are kind of separate versions along with the weird PS2 spin-offs of 1/2/WaW or even the DS ports but I’d argue that CoD Classic and MW1/2D stand alone as a kind of unique thing. It’s an interesting series, trying to balance nostalgia with yearly releases that almost always obsolesce the previous one, with the identity of the series staked around each release being the most up to date and feature complete despite never quite being that. But you can’t look backwards without releasing a game that feels horribly out of date.

Actually, I did also enjoy the trench hopping section and using the M1 Garand (complete with signature ping and no manual reload). Also funny to me that there even is a fire mode select in this game. The Thompson and MP40 seem like a waste to set to single fire, while the FG42 seems worthless on full audio. The BAR weirdly lets you set slow or fast auto? But the slow does the job fine for me. Kar98k is pretty clunky and unsatisfying in this game with or without a scope. M1a1 is…fine, kind of baseline weapon imo. pistol worthless. So far the MP40 is goated just because it’s auto and I can find ammo for it reliably.

UI is hilariously clunky. The giant compass isn’t super helpful. Won’t see a health bar again for a while, I think. The on-rail mission was…fine.

STEVE BLUM! My beloved :) just checked IMDb and Jason Statham is in this???

It is so funny to have seen this game on Xplay when I was watching old episodes of it recently where they seriously are talking about it for game of the year and lauding it when now it has aged so poorly. It’s not offensive or anything, it’s just terribly middling for what it is. It really takes something like Half Life to still be remotely worth playing 20 years later as a single player FPS of this era, and that’s a pretty high bar. I think even just waiting until the PS360 gen results in loads of quality FPSes like Bioshock, Wolfenstein TNO, Far Cry 2-3, Rage, Dishonored. Although I’d argue that Halo 1-2 age far better than the early CoD titles of that generation but again, that’s a high bar to clear.

There is an expansion pack for this game, United Offensive, but I’ll be skipping it since it isn’t available on consoles of any kind and would be kind of a hassle to get going on PC and doesn’t interest me anyways and there’s still so many games left to play. Of all the QoL things I miss most from the newer games, I think regenerating health is the most sorely needed here, so I definitely don’t want a whole expansion pack of scrounging for health kits. It’s the kind of thing that you either don’t notice at all when the game is giving you enough health kits or it becomes a huge pain to backtrack while trying to take out a machine gun nest.

I do hope this game introduces some more varied weapons in the British and Russian campaigns because so far there’s not much, which admittedly makes sense given that we’ve only seen US and German weapons.

I will admit that the idea of playing 1, 2, 3, WaW, plus 3 last gen spin-offs all set in WW2 is a little alarming. I feel like I’ll be ready to go back once we hit WWII and Vanguard but yikes that’s a lot of WW2 back to back. On the other hand, I think that is super funny and I love the idea of tracking each of the famous guns from game to game and seeing them evolve in real time as a great litmus test of how these games and gaming overall developed during this kind of pivotal time before, during, and right after the launch of HD consoles.

It does make me a little sad to know I can’t really play any of the online multiplayer, at least not the way it would’ve been back at the time. Something like CoD Classic in particular probably had an extremely limited time with an active player base.

[soaps-hoe-141]

Back Together

Alright so I lied, I warned you though so it's not my fault. Sometimes the mind just does what it wants.

Part 4

Pairing: Soap x Ghost

WC: 2.1k

Synopsis: Some 141 shenanigans inbound

Warnings: Mentions of a gunshot wound, nearly naked Soap

A tall, broad man shuffled down the hall pulling an IV pole along beside him. His steps were short and his other hand was glued to the place where a bullet had put him in the hospital when they had gotten back two days ago. As the large man reached the soft glowing lights behind a dirty pane of glass, and the many bags of chips, candy, and granola bars that sat just behind that he smiled and inspected the many options. The hospital food had been driving him up the wall and he was tired of eating the shitty food that the nurses brought in every day. His lips smacked behind the black face mask that Soap had brought him the first day he had come by. It wasn’t what he preferred to wear but it was better than nothing. Just like one of those snacks behind the glass would be.

His only problem was that he didn’t have money, and he didn’t exactly have anyone he could borrow some from. Instead the big man leaned down, his arm snaking through where you were supposed to pull your snack from. Instead he was reaching up into the machine, one eye closed in a wince while the other tracked his progress through the dirty glass. He almost missed the movement in the smudged glass as he froze. He had been caught red handed trying to steal from the hospital’s vending machine. Slowly he turned his head, arm still shoved up to the elbow inside the hole. He looked up at Captain Price whose eyebrows were furrowed, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched Konig’s eyes shift back to his arm and then once more to Price. “H-Hello Captain,” slowly the arm pulled out of the vending machine, the German’s eyes staring down at the floor while Price continued to stare a hole into the side of his face.

The Captain sniffed once and cleared his throat before asking, “Do you want something Konig?” The German looked up then, a bit surprised before nodding. Price pulled a wallet out then, helping Konig up and asking him, “Which one?” The big man pointed slowly to a bag of m&ms and Price nodded as he punched in the number and leaned down to get the bag for the big man. As he handed it over to Konig another question came off his lips, “How would you like to join the 141 Konig?”

----------

It was Gaz that had shown up first to Soap’s room, banging a fist hard against the door the rest of the barracks be damned. The team had been sequestered to base for the past two days since they got back, they had brought an ex-KSK back to the UK which had caused…problems. Problems that Price was supposed to be fixing, like he always fixed the things Soap did without thinking. Meanwhile the Scotsman had slept for an entire day without leaving the room, only waking up to use the bathroom before going straight back to the darkness that awaited him. Gaz had tried to stop him on the way back, earning a friendly smile from the Sergeant and a raspy voiced, “I’m tired man, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” And Soap had disappeared back behind his door to sleep for another twenty hours.

And now here Gaz was again, banging on the door and yelling through it, “Come on Soap wake up!” The noise paused and the dark haired man pressed his body back into the mattress. It only lasted a few seconds though before Gaz hit the door again and said loudly, “I know you’re awake in there Soap, you’ve been sleeping for two days, you haven’t even come out to eat man. Come on, answer me.” Again the noise paused and Soap pulled the pillow over his head, groaning quietly into the mattress just wanting Gaz to leave him alone so he could pass out.

The next voice surprised him though, and the words even more so as Ghost spoke up, “We’ve got something on Price, Johnny.” The words were simple and quiet and just interesting enough to cause the Scot to roll over.

It had piqued his interest enough to drag himself out of the bed as he stood slowly on stiff legs, stumbling a bit as he caught himself against the wall. His foot caught against the edge of the bed in the pitch black and a quick, “Fuck” escaped his throat, dry and struggling to form the word. Finally he made it to the door, opening it with deliberate slowness. The light of the hallway shone into the room and illuminated a half naked Soap who was clothed only in his underwear. He wasn’t about to get dressed until they proved what they had was worth it. Blue eyes closed hard against the light as he flinched and struggled to put his eye on the two men who stood outside his door being illuminated by the light of the hallway. The blue eyes slid slowly between Gaz and then to Ghost, “What do you have?”

Gaz looked up at Ghost before the man lifted a gloved hand and showed Soap the object in his hand, “His laptop.”

Soap stared at it for a second and then turned his gaze to look up into the eyes of the tall man and nodded, “Give me a second.” Gaz smirked from beside Ghost as Soap shut the door to find a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. The door opened again to find Gaz was leaning against the doorframe and Ghost was leaning against the opposite wall. Soap beckoned them inside with a jerk of his head, moving aside and watching as Gaz slipped in with the laptop in hand and then Ghost moved towards him as well, bending over before he passed through and picking up a bag with the familiar golden arches and a jug of water off the floor. He handed the bag and the jug of water over to Soap as he pushed into the room. Soap’s eyes turned down to glance into the bag and then turned to the other two, “Did they release us from base while I was asleep?”

“No,” came Ghost’s quick and minimalistic reply.

“Then how did you-” He stopped his question when Ghost turned to look at him with eyes that said, ‘Does it really matter?’ Soap held up his hands as he let it go and inspected the inside of the bag, reaching in to pull out a few fries and taking a seat on his bed. “So how did you get Price’s laptop? And why?”

“Gaz was bored and you weren’t there for him to dare to do something stupid. And do you really need me to elaborate on the how?” Ghost tilted his head, sitting with one arm up on the back of the short couch and again Soap let it go as he dug in the bag for some more fries.

The Scotsman tipped the water jug back as he downed as much as he could in one go before clearing his throat and looking at Gaz. “So what, are we trying to figure out who is Price’s favorite or something? Figure out which one of us he has a picture with on his home screen?”

Gaz snapped his fingers and pointed at Soap then, “Exactly mate. Problem is we can’t figure out his password to get in. Now we’ve tried everything we can think of. All the classics 123456789, password, his name, we tried task force 141 and every variation of it. Hell we even tried the name of some of his old team members. Nothing, nada, we’re out.” 

Soap was five chicken nuggets deep into his meal now, looking between the two men with a smirk on his face, “Are you serious?” Ghost looked at Gaz over the back of the couch where Gaz was sitting at his desk. Soap laughed at the both of them and shook his head as he licked his fingers and stood up, leaving the bag of food and the jug on his bed. “Move Gaz,” the Scotsman shouldered in leaning over to type quickly into the password bar, ‘SoapIsAWrench141’. He didn’t press enter before he went back to the bed and continued his meal. “So who are we betting is going to be on his home screen? Personally my money’s on Laswell, they’ve known each other forever.”

Blue eyes flicked between the two and Gaz shook his head, smirking when he answered, “Obviously it’s gonna be me. We all know he likes me the most.”

He could see the sideways look from Ghost immediately as the man shifted to watch the Sergeant over the back of the couch, “You? I’ve known him the longest. I get away with ten times the shite you ever could.”

“Bullshit, mate. You only get away with that shit because you’re fuckin Ghost.” Gaz shot back at the big man.

Soap’s hand shot up, “I’d like to be fuckin Ghost.” They both turned to look at the Scotsman with fries hanging from his mouth and more halfway there. He had frozen in place though realizing what he had said immediately and how it sounded. His face burned red, ears beginning to steam with the embarrassment of it. “I didn’t mean it like…that…” He looked down at the bag and just about anywhere other than at Ghost, “I meant I wanted to be Ghost, not fuck-”

“Shut the hell up Johnny,” Ghost stopped him before he dug himself further into a hole he couldn’t climb out of. Soap nodded his head with pursed lips and gave the Lieutenant a thumbs up as he went back to devouring his food. “Gaz, unlock the damn thing.”

Soap looked up as the other Sergeant turned in the chair to press enter and the screen went black for a second and then the home screen popped up. Price’s face dominated the screen, he was in his boonie hat with the sand camouflage pattern on it sitting in a beach chair and laying back with a black swimsuit on and thick black sunglasses. All of them stared silently at the screen before turning eyes to each other. Soap had sucked in his bottom lip and smiled as his teeth bit into the soft flesh to hold in his amusement. Gaz had put a balled up fist on his mouth and was beginning to shake with the start of a laugh. And Ghost, well Ghost looked the same as he always did because he had a mask on. Subdued laughs began bubbling up in the younger two men’s throats, each returning their eyes to the photo of their Captain relaxing on a beach, a sight they never thought they would see.

“What the hell are you three muppets doing?” In their laughs neither of them had noticed when Price had shoved the door open to Soap’s room. The laughs cut off immediately, Ghost it seemed was the only one to have noticed the disturbance before Price had made it through the door as he was now standing in front of the couch with his arms crossed.

The Captain immediately caught sight of his laptop sitting on Soap’s desk, opened and with the home screen shining bright into the center of the room. He looked to Soap who was also devouring a bag of fast food despite all of them having been stuck on the base for the past two days. Soap dropped the chicken nugget he was holding into the bag immediately pointing to the other two men as Gaz and Soap returned the friendly fire directed at the Scotsman. “Are you kidding me? I have been asleep the past two days and you’re going to blame me!?”

“Affirmative,” Ghost answered before turning his gaze back to Price.

The Captain walked over to Soap’s desk without a word, closing the laptop and picking it up with one hand. A dark look was in the Captain’s eyes now before he spoke, “0300 tomorrow morning boys. Enjoy your meal, Sergeant, you’ll be losing it in a few hours.”

A look of desolation painted Soap’s face as he looked down at his food and then to his two teammates. “Oh come the fuck on…” Ghost was hanging his head with his hands in his hoodie pocket now, they had grossly miscalculated and now they were all going to be paying for it.

Gaz was the first to stand and leave quietly, too stuck in his own mind about what torture Price had planned for them tomorrow morning to say much else to the other two. Ghost hung around for a few more minutes head tilting back to the ceiling lost in his own thoughts. When he too made for the door Soap sighed and said, “Thanks anyways for the food Lt. See you in a few hours.”

The tall man turned and gave Soap a nod, “You’re welcome, Johnny.” And then the Lieutenant was gone, leaving Soap to eat his meal in the quiet of his own room and his own thoughts.

[i-am-still-bb]

Whumptober 2022 - No. 23 - At the end of their rope

DarkHawk, T

Firewatcher AU (Tumblr / Ao3)

--

Denver’s highways were packed with cars and trucks; people leaving the city to seek a bit adventure and those leaving in search of some time away from city life. The further he was from the city the fewer cars he saw. The roads narrowed.

Now there was no barrier.

Now just a single lane going each direction.

Now no shoulder.

Now no lines.

Now a single lane paved road.

Now a rutted dirt road with branches scraping the sides of his truck.

And then a 4x4 wooden post driven into the ground with a sign saying that no motorised vehicles were allowed beyond that point.

Ross turned off the engine and removed the keys from the ignition. His ears rang in the sudden silence after the hours of highway and road noise, and just the sound of his truck and its contents rattling around.

He opened the door. Pine needles rustled under his hiking boots. There was bird song, but not much else. He grabbed his pack from the bed of the truck, tightened the laces on his boots, and locked the truck—not that there was anybody around to break into it nor was there anything worth stealing except for a pack of gum and a phone charger—before he set out.

The trail was well marked. A brown dirt path only about 12 inches wide meandered through the tall lodgepole pines.

He never thought he would end up here.

Twelve months ago he was running a sort of successful mining company in Denver. He was living with his wife. Everything had been fine.

Until it wasn’t.

She had started forgetting her keys. And then she was missing lectures. The university had put its foot down when she yelled at a student during class. There had been a lot of doctor’s appointments, scans, tests, and questions.

And then the diagnosis came.

She was suffering from early on-set Alzheimers and it was progressing rapidly.

Ross took a leave of absence from work to take care of her.

After about a month of that he had started drinking more. A few beers after she went to bed became a glass of wine with dinner, mid-afternoon shots. And sometimes he would just go to the local bar, a ten minute drive away, and he would stay there until closing.

And then he hit a parked car when he was driving home.

Her family stepped in at that point. They insisted on taking care of her. That meant taking her home to Cornwall with them. And Ross did not put up a fight. Part of him was relieved that she would no longer be his responsibility; that he would be able to go back to living his life.

And then she was gone.

The house was empty.

He went back to work, but he could not focus. Having a drink or two at lunch, or an Irish coffee for breakfast certainly did not help matters. He had expected to stop drinking. It had started with her illness, had gotten worse as she deteriorated and his stress increased, and he had expected his urge to drink would disappear when that stress was removed. But it did not. And he was drinking more now that she was gone than he was before.  

They caught wind of his DUI and then he had been more than a little intoxicated during several important company meetings.

The Board of Trustees wanted him gone. But his second in command had convinced them to let him take a leave of absence. After that he will be allowed to return to the company on a probationary basis.

So here he was. In the middle of the woods.

He had applied for this job one evening while he was sitting home alone. He needed something to do during this forced break. If he sat at home he would go crazy.

Dwight had been the one to suggest that he look at seasonal Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management, etc. jobs. They had built in end dates, often involved outdoor manual labour, and minimal contact with the public, unless he took a front country job.

So he was going to spend the summer living in a 14x14 foot tower.

He was going to be a fire lookout.

—

Beyond the obvious job duties of watching for fires, tracking any that he saw, and noting fire conditions he would be responsible for trail maintenance in his zone, assisting search and rescue as needed, and enforcing the laws regarding recreation on Federal land. Granted, there were a lot less rules on Forest Service land than on National Park land, but there are still basic laws that apply pretty much wherever you are.

For the summer he had packed basic clothes, toiletries, his e-book reader loaded with books. Everything else would be provided in his tower or during resupply drops throughout the summer. If he found that he had forgotten anything he could request it in the next supply drop. He had considered packing a bottle of liquor, to wean himself off he said, but had ultimately decided against it. The summer was about fresh starts and looking forward instead of back. And that meant no drinking.

And the contract he had signed stipulated that no mind-altering substances were allowed due to the nature of the job. Not that Ross had ever been one to follow the rules.

But he did leave the bottle of vodka sitting on his counter at home. He had filled its spot in his back with a bottle of lemonade.

He had stayed in a motel room the night before so that he would not be making this hike in the dark. He had timed it so that he arrived shortly after sunrise when the air was still cool. He hoped to be at the tower before mid-day.

He was less than a mile in and he was already drenched in sweat and his heart and lungs felt shot.

He was bent over with his hands on his knees gasping for breath with noises that he was embarrassed of even with no one else around.

Ross groaned and straightened himself. He checked his location on the map, and he had gone a little less than three-quarters of a mile. And it was only going to get steeper from here according to the topography lines.

“Fuck.”

He knew he had not really done anything active in a while, but he had way overestimated his physical fitness. He planted his hands on his hips and arched his back trying to relieve the nagging pain in his mid-back.

It was still fairly quiet. He watched a squirrel dig small holes and bury bits of food.

There was a woodpecker in the distance. A few sparrows flitted much closer. He could hear the creaking of unseen widowmakers. Ross’ breathing was the loudest sound.

He adjusted the straps of his pack and set off again.

There was no turning back at this point. There was just arriving and having a wash sooner or later.

—

He did not make it by mid-day, but he did arrive at the tower around dinner time. Those final flights of stairs were nearly the death of him. At the top there was a balcony that ran all the way around his station. The windows that covered every wall were covered up. Removing the boards and storing them in the storage shed was the first thing that he would do in the morning. For now he just unlocked the door and let himself in.

The tower did have electricity. The overhead light was just a bare bulb. Once the light was on he could see the 196 square feet that he will be living in for the next 4 months. There’s a small fridge tucked under a stretch of countertop that contains a half stove and a small sink. There’s a coffee maker tucked into the corner. There’s a desk by the door, a small bookcase, a dresser, the bed, and a table in the centre. Everything is covered with a layer of dust. There are cobwebs in the corners. And Ross is pretty sure he heard small claws on the floor when he turned the light on, mouse, chipmunk, squirrel, or rat will move out soon after he starts to settle in.

He flips the mattress down and makes it up with some of the stored bedding from a cupboard. Too tired to bath, eat, or do anything productive he falls asleep. It is the first time in a long time that he has not fallen asleep with the warm, calming thrum of alcohol running through his veins.

—

“Hey!”

Ross rolled over and pulled the pillow over his face.

“It’s 7:30, princess. Time to wake up and make coffee.”

Ross sat up frowning. There was no cell service out here, he had checked. So where was that voice coming from? There was no one else there. But the bright sun was already peeking through the gaps around the edges of the boards.

“Hello? Poldark?

Ross looked in the direction of the voice. It was the desk. He walked over to it without bothering to put on any clothes. Scowling, sleep still muddling his brain, he stared at the surface of the desk before spotting the two way radio that was sitting in its charger. He picked it up and depressed the button, “Hello. Who is this?”

“You’re up!”

Ross winced at the chipper voice. “Yeah. No thanks to you,” Ross grumbled.

“How’d you even know I was here? I didn’t have to be on site for another two days.”

“I saw your light last night.”

Ross looked at the still covered windows. He should probably wear pyjamas from now on. He had assumed that no one would see him out here. “That’s not creepy at all.”

“Watching things is literally in our job title.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.” Ross set the radio down so he could get the coffee maker going. If he was going to be up this early he was definitely going to need a few cups of coffee.

“So you seem to know who I am. Who are you?” Ross asked while the coffee percolated at the speed of molasses in January.

“I’m given a list of the other Lookouts each season. It helps get the ball rolling. I’m your point of contact if anything goes wrong or you need something.”

“Fair. You didn’t answer my question.”

“Oh! I’m Hawkins. I’m manning Lookout Charlie this year.”

“Well, Hawkins. If it’s alright with you I’m going to have my coffee and then get the tower cleaned out and prepped.”

“Have fun. And don’t forget to let me know if anything needs fixed or something. There should be a packet on your desk along with a book.”

“Will do,” Ross grumbled.

He dropped the radio back in its charging cradle. He dug a pair of underwear from his bag. Half of the bag’s contents ended up all over the floor, but he was not going to deal with that or anything else before his coffee.

[foreverlostindreams]

Don’t ever dump me again

Friends. That's the reason Kol invited you here, because you were ‘friends’. He seemed to be lacking any more of those, or he would not drag you out every time he wanted to go for a drink, just to be distracted by any pretty neck walking past. And while you were glad that you had moved on from being on the menu, to being an, at least right now, treasured witchy help for the Mikaelson, you could definitely go without another evening spent alone in a bar, he chose for the two of you ‘to have fun’. You didn't have fun. Who would getting basically dumped every other night? It was not the best thing for your ego, so you ordered another drink.

It was just your luck, that sitting alone at a bar like this one seemed to attracted all kinds of other lonely or wishful guests of even that bar to try their best of getting closer to you. The stool next to you was still empty, but when the bartender brought you another drink, shortly after your ordered one, you knew that was going to end very quickly. The sound of dragging wood on wood seconds later proved you right and then you saw the guy appearing in the corner of your left eye.

He was not as dubious and off-putting as the other ones you usually attracted in establishments Kol dragged you to, but you also did not get a good vibe from him right away.

A good half an hour and a few drinks later you had warmed up to him though. No supernatural about him at all, right now a fat plus on your chart and just a lot of charming talk about college and annoying friends, just what you needed. You had started college before getting sucked into all the Mikaelson mess and even though you had not liked it there a single bit, compared to some of the things you did now, hell did you miss it. He seemed to have a slight intention of getting you tipsy, based on how fast he ordered you new drinks, when yours got empty, but you knew how to handle your liquor and based on the fact, that Kol in average would take another half an hour before he would get back to get you, you were just fine with how it was.

That was before the next drink hit you very differently. Your head was spinning instantly and you could feel your balance going off. Roofies, oh for fucks sake. You stumbled off your stool trying to get away from him, but your body was not cooperating very much. When he got up as well, playing the perfect help and no word of protest that you were trying to form would leave your lips, you started to feel a slight panic creeping up. There was no witchy power protecting you from this or reversing it, definitely not while you were in this state. God, you were so stupid. The first thing you learn in College, always watch your cup and don’t take drinks from strangers. Having spent so much time with vampires and angry werewolves, you had forgotten about all those mundane dangers. You could kick yourself.

Your thoughts were racing, when you felt the cold night wind on your face. He was getting you further and further away from the back alley or whatever kind of service room Kol, aka your only chance of help and his play thing were in, to everybody else you seemed like a drunk mess, that a friend was helping. “Km” you mumbled only to try directly again, with more force “Kom'' and again “Kol!”

Thank god you were not out with Elijah, you would have never gotten his name out, even though he probably would have not let it have come to this in the first place. But ones you had managed to get the name right once, you didn't stop, repeating it like a prayer. Hoping to get through the bar and street noise like this. Annoying him like he always would with you. When you heard a car door open next to you, full on panicking now, it mobiliced all the brain capacity you could manage “Kol, help!” you nearly screamed, as your legs finally failed in those heels under you and you fell against the car door, jamming the guys hand in the progress. You could hear him swear and then smell a very familiar smell in the next air breeze.

“I said have fun, Darling, not organize presents. But I’m not complaining.” He definitely did not know, when he could be funny and when not, you determined while trying to get safely to the ground to crawl away from the danger zone your ‘nice’ college dude had maneuvered himself into. You didn’t get to crawl through, you were picked up before that. The suit sleeves covering the arms in your vision did not seem like what Kol was dressed in the last time you saw him, but the voice you had heard was his. Trying to focus was getting more and more difficult you noticed and you felt your eyes getting heavier, before you felt something wet getting pressed to your lips. The first impulse was defence, but without much effect and when the copper taste hit your tongue you gave in. Vampire blood was probably your only chance now.

When the clouds started to lift off your mind and your own legs started to support your body again you let go and looked for the guy. You’d be damned if he would get away with this, but Kol had him good and scared to death, his hand still stuck in the car door. Now that couldn’t be good. On a second thought you turned around wide eyed before you realized it was Elijah who had helped you get the drugs out of your system. Where did he come from? They had promised you, they could not read minds. “I was trying to call you, to do a spell for Klaus, but you didn’t answer, so I was going to pick you up.” he offered you an answer, before you could even ask. An oppressed scream reached your ears distracting you again.

“Don’t kill him!” you scolded Kol, trying to get closer only to realise that vampire blood might have helped, but you were not yet your balanced and stable self. “Oh come on Darling! You can not still feel sorry for him. He was not going to take you on a picnic” he shot back dramatically “I know” I hissed at him and instantly regretted it, when his grin got wider again “Oh, so you want the honor?” “No” okay, maybe a bit and you got the chance earlier than expected because the idiot really did try to make his escape in just that moment. The force with which you smashed him into the ground before he did his second step and one of the other two men made a move was entirely because of the drugs, of course.

Pinning him like this you looked back at Kol “I want you to compel him to go to the next police department, demand to speak to a female officer and confess to her about every woman he ever did this to. And about the place where he gets the drugs, if he knows about any other guy doing it. Absolutely everything” “You are no fun” Kol complained “I am in this situation, because you fucking idiot always want to have fun, drag me along and then dump me at the bar. My liver is probably going to get me in an early grave, all because of you” You went off on him and could feel Elijah's disapproving look shooting over your head at his little brother. “Are you saying, you never had fun with me?” He really seemed insulted, what did he expect? “Like I say, you always disappear and the bars you choose are not known for it’s amazing clientele, but it’s the only escape I get from the third brother in your family, that would like to see me work on something for him every waking minute of the day, so i tag along.”

“Ready to go home?” Elijah asked then and offered you his arm, like the perfect gentleman he was “Kol, you got this?” he asked in a totally different kind of voice, while leading me to the passenger seat of his car. How had you not noticed he seemingly hit the brakes and parked directly behind you and the idiots car? “We are not done talking about this Darling!” “Oh, I so am. I will not discuss anything with any of you anymore today. I will not do any spells. I will just go to bed and sleep for a day or two. Maybe wake up in a life, where mine is not so out of control” A girl could dream.

Of course, you were back at breakfast the next morning already reading the grimoire Klaus had gotten in ways you didn’t want to know anything about. He had not complained to you about the time he had lost last night, but you were sure he spent the whole time you were asleep doing it to Elijah, who had put his food down about your need to sleep, also citing that trying a difficult spell with a halfway drugged witch was not their best chance. You were also sure Kol had heard his bit about letting it get to that.

Just when thinking of the devil, he slipped into the stool to your left, looking disapproving on your cornflakes. “That was how my last evening turned from bad to catastrophic” you commented on his move without looking up from the page. “You really did not enjoy a single evening?” Was his pride honestly hurt about that aspect? “Nop” “I thought you were! I thought, that was what you wanted, a way out of this house and not see a single vampire for ones, that's what you had said'' In that moment the penny dropped in your mind. You had said that! A little over a month ago, the day after Kol had arrived back here, when Klaus had had one of his days and Elijah was not on your side the way you had wanted him to, you had stormed off slamming doors and screaming your frustration out with those words. The day after, Kol had asked you to a bar for the first time.

You looked at him, checking for signs that he might prank you, but he looked genuine. You took a deep breath “Okay, let's start again. Hi, my name is Y/N. Your family drives me insane, sometimes I need a timeout from that, but I still do not like to be dumped in shitty bars, when asked out.” Kol took your offered hand “Well then, Miss Y/N. I will remember that. Would you like to accompany me to a better bar tomorrow evening, to redeem myself as good company?” “That sound not bad at all” He grinned back at you and then got up. “By the way darling, I would not eat that, it smells bad.” “Shut up Kol, better be worried, if you ever dump me again!” You could hear his laugh, even when he left the room.

[hot-wiings]

The One Where Prohero!Deku Says He Won't Be Home The Night Before Christmas, But Suddenly Santa Claus Shows Up At The Door, Flirting With His Wife And Frightening His Daughter.

Edited: 12-16-2020

You folded one leg over the other as you sat on your couch in front of the TV. With a glass of pinot wine in one hand and the remote in your other, you flipped through the channels, looking for a better news outlet that was able to get closer to the current ongoing fight. The fight of a villain versus Pro-Hero Deku. Tragically, this was a nightly ritual for you. Every night after dinner, after dessert, after you'd gotten your daughter settled in the bath or bed, you would pour a glass of wine and watch your husband on national television. With a pinched heart and high nerves, you would watch him duel it out with some new villains, all the while hoping like crazy he was okay. All the whole praying to God he made it out alive. 

This was the life of being the wife to the number one hero. You knew what you were getting into when you began dating. You knew it would be hard being quirkless and helplessly watching from the sidelines as he rose to fame, close to being more needed and out in more danger. You the costs, you knew the risk, and while you wouldn't change any of it, it didn't make it any less hard to see him go, it didn't make it any less hard seeing him on the television, fighting for citizens. Fighting to make the world a safer place, for you and your daughter.

"Mommy, is daddy gonna be okay?"

Your daughter clutched onto your arm, pulling on your shirt to try and get your attention desperately as she watched her father battle live. She had a scared expression on her face, the expression you hid every time your husband walked out the door each morning. You sat your wine down on the lounge table in front of you before turning to her with a smile.

"Oh, sweetheart... Your father is always gonna be okay, he's the number one hero! He's good at what he does, and you know why he does it?"

"Why?"

"He does it for you, and he does it for me. He does it so we have a safe world to live in. He goes out there because he loves us, he's gonna come home every night because he loves us. Don't worry your pretty little head, alright?"

Your daughter turns her attention back to the TV, a smile on her face making the scared look disappear. You hated letting her watch Izuku's fights with you. While you did it to see him, to make sure he's okay, you didn't want her seeing that violent aspect in his life. You didn't want her seeing her father beat the living shit out of a villain, but how could you tell her no? You could remember watching All Might on TV as a child along side your brother Katuki. Watching the symbol of peace keeping the world safe installed you with a sense of hope as a quirkless child. He inspired you to be a hero despite being quirkless, he inspired you to be a hero support device inventor. It was your support items that your husband wore, and that kind of inspiration and hope was not something you could prevent your daughter from. Especially not when her father was the current symbol of peace.

You watched fondly as your daughter smiled up at the TV, as she smiled at her father fighting the villain. She was so immersed in the fight, such a fan like her father. Punch after punch, and swing after swing, using his shoot style, Izuku took the villain down. The heavyweight in your chest was lifted as he got to work on helping any civilians that got injured. Your daughter turned to you with a huge smile present as she started yawning through her words.

"Mommy, I wanna be just like daddy when I grow up. He's so awesome, he could defeat anybody."

"If that's what you want, then you can be a great hero when you grow up, just like daddy is."

You turned the TV off before lifting your daughter into your arms with a hefty sigh. She was getting older every year, older and heavier. While she wasn't extremely heavy, she wasn't a baby anymore. Soon the years of youth would fly by and you wouldn't be able to lift her. Your husband would have no problem, but you weren't built like that. It wasn't good to put so much stress on yourself. Desperately fighting off sleep, she rested her head on your shoulder as she tried to keep her eyes open. 

"Mommy, will daddy be home to tuck me in bed?"

"Not tonight honey. He's still got some stuff to do, probably won't be back for another hour or so, and you're already falling asleep as it is."

"Awe. I wanted to tell him that I wanna be him when I grow up. I miss him."

You placed your daughter on her bed and wrapped the blankets around her, tucking the covers under her body and feet, cocooning her in and prepping her for a chilly night. You turned around and grabbed her favorite stuffed animals off the shelf as you bit your lip. You missed him just as much as she did. Sometimes it was hard when he was gone for days on end fighting a villain and tracking them down. Though he always made up for it to you both, it always hurt when he was gone. You felt so emotional tonight. You wiped away a few stray tears and turned around with a smile so you could tuck her stuffed bunny under the blanket next to her. 

"I know baby, I miss him too, and he misses us just as much. But you know what? Tomorrow it'll be Christmas, so you, and Mister Bun-Bun need to go to sleep so Santa can come."

You booped her nose then proceeded to boop the stuffed bunnies nose so she wouldn't think he was disincluded before tucking them both in under the blankets again to make sure she was extra warm. The heater in the house broke so you were currently living off of heat from the fireplace until Izuku or the repair people could come, but that wasn't until after Christmas, and you weren't sure Izuku knew how. You knew sometime in the night your daughter would climb out of bed and come to your room to try and snuggle with you and Izuku, not that either of you minded. 

"And when you wake up daddy will be here, and he'll give you all the attention you want."

"Okay... Can he still come in and give me a goodnight even if I'm asleep?"

"Absolutely, Mister Bun-Bun too."

You pecked a kiss against your daughter's forehead, then you turned her night light on and shut her closet door, knowing that she would get scared. You made way to her bedroom door and looked over your shoulder to check on her. She was still fighting off inevitable sleep, nodding off and jerking her head up, trying to be awake, undoubtedly trying to stay awake until her father came home. 

"Mommy, can Mister Bun-Bun have a kiss too? He also wants the bedroom door left open... He gets scared."  

"If it makes Mister Bun-Bun feel safer I'll leave it open, but Mister Bun-Bun needs to know that I and daddy will always keep him safe just like we keep you safe."

You walked back over to her bed and placed a chaste kiss on the stuffed bunnies head before moving over to her head and giving her another one. You pulled back and smiled at her. 

"I love you, [D/N], never forget that."

"I love you too momma, good night."

You chuckled at her slurred words, sleep overtaking her body as you walked to her door and left it open just enough for the right amount of light to flood in and make 'Mister Bun-Bun' feel safe, but not enough to prevent her from sleeping.

You made your way to the kitchen and placed your phone onto the wireless charger that you kept on the window sill. You opened the notification bar searching for a message or missed call from Izuku to see none, he must still be out at the fight scene. With a pinched heart, you turned your ringtone to high just in case your husband did call. 

The hour slowly started to slip by as you made yourself busy with cleaning up the house. What started as dinner dishes turned into cleaning the oven, which then progressed into dusting all the fans and wall decor. Your mother-in-law and family would be coming over tomorrow anyway, so if you didn't do it now, you would be stressed about it tomorrow. From your spot in the living room, bent over and stripping down the couch cushion seat covers so you could wash them before tomorrow, you hadn't even heard the knob on the front door turn. You hadn't heard a male presence enter the house, much less directly behind you. In your utmost defense, he was trying especially hard to be quiet, and you had soft Christmas music coming from the stereo. 

With one arm swooping down and wrapping around your waist, the other went over your stomach while his head rested in the crook of your neck. You knew the hands, having felt the callused working fingers every day of your life for nearly the past decade, these hands were very familiar. However, despite the familiarity, when you were home alone, had been home alone with no one but your daughter for company, the touch of a male was very startling and scared you. You let out a little shriek as you let your body weight drop, bringing you to the floor with protective hands over your tummy. Your husband came tumbling on top of you due to his arms being wrapped around you. His chuckles resounded in your ear, warming up a pool in your stomach. The sound of his voice would never cease to bring butterflies, no matter how many years of marriage you had under your belt. It almost momentarily made you forget and set aside the anger of him scaring you. Almost.

"You jerk."

"Merry Christmas to you too."

Izuku adjusted your bodies so that he was no longer crushing you, but rather so you were both on your sides holding each other. After a week apart he wanted nothing more than to hold you, he wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost time. 

"You know I hate when you do that."

"Well, you know I hate when you stay up for me so I guess we're even."

"We both know you love it. You love coming home to me, love getting to kiss me, hug me, and cuddle me."

You let your head roll against Izuku's chest as he pulled his arms around you tighter. The feel of being together again in your cold home, warming you both and riding those sad feelings that haunted you both every night apart. 

"I'd still love coming home to find you asleep and well-rested, kisses can wait."

"Mm, I lucked out in the husband department didn't I? [D/N] wants a good night kiss even if she's already asleep."

You detangled yourself from Izuku and used the edge of the sofa to pull yourself up and prop yourself onto the edge of it. It was then that you noticed Izuku was wearing a Santa costume, belt, wig, beard, and all. You nibbled on your lip as you watched him stand up and walk closer to you. Your sexual drive was crazy as of late, leaving you with an insatiable horny hunger and no husband to cure it. This was something you could have fun with. 

"Although, I think I'd rather keep Santa all to myself for a moment."

"Yeah? Do you like it? I was trying to escape the fans and ran into a mall Santa, traded him an autograph, and twenty bucks for his suit." 

"Hmm, lose the beard and wig and you just might be on Mrs. clauses nice list."

Izuku chuckled as he pulled his beard down and made his way over to you. He pulled you up from the couch and wrapped his arms around you, one hand lingering further, wandering to your butt and grabbing. Call it the distance he held from you for so long, but he was feeling frisky. 

"What if I like the naughty list better?"

His voice was warm and desperate as he whispered down your ear, maybe you would've played along with him and gotten him to the bedroom had you not seen [D/N] in the living room entrance, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Santa? Mommy, what are you doing?"

That anger from him scaring you, that anger you put aside for a later date came back. You weren't in a state to be scared like that. A devious smile made way to your face as you pulled away from Izuku and feigned shock. He still had his wig on, and you doubted that two a sleepy five-year wouldn't think he wasn't Santa.

"Ho-Ho-Hold on there one minute Santa. I've got a loving husband and a child. You better mosy on home to Mrs. Claus before she puts you on the naughty list."

Izuku turned around, a smile on his face to finally see his daughter after a week. He frowned as he saw the scowl on her face, no doubt a horrendous trait passed down from you. Though, he expected no less from a Bakugo.

"Sweetheart, it's me, daddy."

"What? No, you're not my daddy. My daddy's big and strong, and he'll hurt you for trying to touch my mommy."

"Yeah, don't fib. Are you are fibber, Santa?"

Your daughter tugged on you and took a hold of your arm. She quickly ran to your room, pulling you along with her. Once inside she slammed your door shut and tried to barricade it, leaving a flustered Izuku standing outside. He knew this was your form of payback, playback for consistently startling you whenever he came home. He couldn't help it, he liked seeing your shocked face, he liked getting a rise out of the Bakugo he knew wouldn't bash his face in.

In this instance, it was the only time he ever partially regretted marrying you. You never fought, and when you did he had to deal with your brother instead of you. As a Bakugo, you took more after your father, but the personality traits from your mother came out when you felt payback was necessary. You would go to great lengths for payback over the littlest things, although this one was mediocre for you. One time he went a week with pink dyed hair and another time you kept moving things from around the house out of their usual places and refused to tell him where. Leave him flustered with a hard on wasn't that terrible.

Behind the closed door, you felt slightly bad for playing along with the whole Izuku is Santa thing. Like most times, you thought it would be funny. Make your husband flustered, it'll be cute. That was before your daughter freaked out thinking it was a villain who could steal identities. Of course, your daughter wouldn't believe that Santa was a sleaze, there had to be some explanation. This was starting to backfire, very fast. It was in your lineage not to back down. Your momma didn't raise a quitter, and it would be bad parenting to raise your daughter to be a quitter. What were you supposed to say anyway? Santas not real, I was just trying to fuck your father? No.

"It's okay mommy, daddy will protect us." 

As if on queue your bedroom door busted open from Izuku using full cowling shoot style with his legs. He no longer wore his wig or Santa suit but a t-shirt and pajama pants. With messy mangled hair, he ran towards your daughter and tried to pull her into his arms, missing her after a week apart but she squirmed and tried to pull away. 

"How do I know your my real daddy and not a copying villain!"

"Would a copy villain save Mister Bun-Bun?"

Izuku placed the stuffed rabbit inside his daughter's arms as she broke into a smile. Throwing the rabbit on the floor in favor of her father, she wrapped her small child arms around her father's neck. 

"Daddy! I knew you'd protect us! You're so strong and cool." 

"I'll always protect you from imposter Santas, always."

"Will you protect mommy too?"

"Hmm..."

Izuku picked up his daughter and carried her back to her bedroom so he could tuck her in for the second time that night. He hummed in response, pretending to think to himself as if saving you was a hard decision. You followed behind him with a slight scowl on your face. He placed his daughter in her bed and wrapped the blanket around her and Mister Bun-Bun before pressing a kiss against her head. 

"I guess even if mommy can be mean sometimes, I'll always protect her too. You, mommy, and Mister Bun-Bun." 

"Daddy?"

"Hm?"

[D/N] was lightly nodding off, content that she got to see her father before she fell asleep, but she fought it off as she grabbed her dad's arm to stop him from going away. 

"I think Mister Bun-Bun wants you to leave the door closed. He's not so scared anymore."

"Okay, darling. If Mister Bun-Bun wants it closed that's okay, but if he gets scared at all, it's okay for him to open it back up. Okay?"

"M'kay. Good night. I love you both."

You and Izuku left her room and he closed the door behind you, both of you had heavy hearts, sad to see your daughter slowly growing up. It felt like just yesterday you gave birth, it felt like just yesterday Izuku was holding your hand, comforting you as you pushed. While it was years away, you felt like time was going by too fast. Plopping down on your bed together, Izuku kept his distance, still bitter you left him out there horny and alone like that.

"She's growing up so fast, I miss her being a baby."

"Yeah, but look at it this way, there are still so many things we get to do and teach her. Right now she wants to be you when she grows up, you can start worrying when she's a teenager and discovers boys." 

"Mmmm, no. She's never getting a boyfriend. Not when she's sixteen, not when she twenty."

"You can't prevent it, babe. She's gonna want a boyfriend, one day when she's fourteen and god, why did you marry me? I never should've procreated, I was a monster at fourteen." 

You scooted closer to Izuku as he pulled the blankets over you both. You smiled at Izuku as he slid one arm under your head letting you use it as a headrest, and let his other arm rest on your side, rubbing little circles in your hip.

"I'm not saying never, I'm just sayin' our daughter isn't going to have male friends, and when [D/N] turns fourteen and decides to bring home a boy, well... Who's to stop someone from giving said boys name to someone like, say, your brother?" 

"Mm, that's evil."

"You call it evil, I call it a genius solution."

"Did you mean it when you said you'd always protect me?"

Izuku presses a long kiss against your lips before pulling back and nodding as if it wasn't even a question. 

"Always. Always and forever."

"Even our baby?"

"Of course I'd protect [D/N]."

He says it like it was unquestionable. Like it was the natural order of how things should be. That wasn't what you meant. You chuckled as you smiled at Izuku and grabbed his hand that rested on your hip. You guided it towards your stomach and pressed his palm against your tummy. Your tummy that would soon be swollen. Your tummy that carried his seed and offspring.

"No, our baby Zu'. Baby number two." 

"[Y/N], you're pregnant again?"

His eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as he peppered your face with kisses. Joy and pure happiness spread in his orbs, delighted at the prospect of having another child with you. Realization dawned on him as he rubbed your stomach with his hand.

"Oh gosh, this is why you were so mad I scared you. I could've crushed him, or her. I've gotta be more careful."

"Mm, I'm eight weeks along and you know the best thing about it?"

"What's that?"

Your hands trailed up Izuku's shirt and ran up his skin as you bit your lip.

"Makes my sex drive go like crazy."

"Did you talk to the doctor?"

"Yup! We're good to go until the end of the second trimester."

Izuku pressed his lips to yours and you felt complete. You never thought you'd marry your brother's enemies, much less carry not one but two of his kids. You wouldn't change it for the world, you wouldn't change your little family for the world.

[rainofaugustsith]

Rain Plays SWTOR: Spirit of Vengeance Survival Walkthrough

As we head toward 7.0, I thought it would be a good idea to check in with a Spirit of Vengeance Survival Guide, 2.0. I have my own feelings about SoV - namely that it's boring, tedious and was tuned way too high for a main story solo flashpoint - but let's move on to the actual guide. 

This is a guide specifically for those of you who just want to get this flashpoint over with so you can move on. 

I personally would advise trying to knock this flashpoint out of your story progression BEFORE 7.0. We have no idea how hard content is going to be once you lose some of your abilities and utilities, so if you have any characters who are planned to continue with the main story, I'd take them through now while you have all of the tools in your toolbox and are familiar with them.

After literally months of complaints the devs finally toned down this flashpoint to a more manageable level, but there are still a lot of mobs that hit hard, and it's still really long. When I went through with canon Viri and Lana at level 50, with Viri fully geared toward 306, I moved right along through the flashpoint without difficulty or deaths. It still took almost exactly an hour. It's even longer when you're contending with Rass Ordo and a lot of cut scenes. 

You will want to gear as well as you can for this - you should not have to since this is a story/solo flashpoint in the main story, but it will help you here. Remember you DO NOT have to group to get good gear. There are numerous solo missions that will give you gear up to 306 - the Mek-Sha Tradehouse missions, Personal Conquest each week, solo flashpoints, including the Onderon weekly and daily missions. Other suggestions: 

1. Buy and use the Supplied Kyrprax Command Stim, available at any medical droid in the flashpoint, including the one when you first land on Ship #1. If you're doing this as part of the main story, you unfortunately still have Rass Ordo as your companion. Rass Ordo, despite being influence level 25, still has the AI of a cardboard box. You'd be better off bringing along a Jawagram as your companion. This stim will up your presence for an hour and make him slightly less incompetent. 

2. If you can, equip yourself with the Life Warden tactical. This tactical drops fairly frequently from personal conquest and other gold gear boxes. It essentially gives you an extra heal in a tight situation and can come in handy. 

3. Medpac on your abilities bar. You hopefully won't need this, but have it handy just in case. You may want to invest in the Supplied Kyprax Med Unit medpac, which will heal you AND your companion. 

Within the flashpoint, some general caveats. You're looking at quantity, not quality here. It's just a lot of NPCs piling in on you. 

1. KILL THE HEALERS FIRST. KILL THE HEALERS FIRST. KILL THE HEALERS FIRST. Just about every mob here has healers. They have different names on each ship: 

- Varad Churl

- Darmanda Medic

- Ashade Lorekeeper 

If you don't kill the medics first the fights will be even more interminable. Get rid of them. 

2. Remember there are kolto stations in a lot of the rooms, not just the boss areas. 

3. Be very careful because there are a lot of mob groups close together. Watch where you are blasting/Force-whatevering because you don't want to pull more than one group at once. 

4. Get your gear repaired as often as you can. If you've fought a tough mob and there's a medical droid nearby, go to it and patch up, even if it means you have to backtrack. 

5. Get really familiar with any AOE (area of effect) skills you have. Know where they are on your abilities bar and how to use them. Given the mobs in this flashpoint, anything you have that can clobber several NPCs at once is welcome.

Now, here we go.

SHIP #1: 

Banquet room: after you fight the first mob and take the elevator, you will find yourself in a large "banquet room" with a lot of mobs. Pick a straight line and go forward, taking care not to veer too far to the sides. If you wander, you'll invariably pull the mobs on the sides of the room. 

The rest of this ship is pretty straightforward; it's just a lot of mob NPCs converging on you at once, over and over again. 

Gorga Brak: Straightforward; stay out of the red circles. Be aware that Rass Ordo will helpfully stand in these circles and let Gorga set him on fire, so don't expect any help during the fight. 

SHIP #2: 

More of the same: lots of mobs, now with Dar'manda nameplates. The Dar'manda medics try to hide more than the healers on the other ships, sometimes even going behind crates or other barriers, so keep your eyes peeled for them. 

First thing of concern here: after a few rooms of mobs, you will arrive at the notorious jumping puzzle. Just stay on the right side of the room and walk along the beam. There are a few jumps up onto pieces of metal but they are not hard, ambitious jumps. Otherwise you just have two places where you have to make sure your character drops down onto the beam and not into the flames. Angle your camera overhead so you can see what you are doing. 

Now it's time to go through the notorious Room After The Kitchen. As the name would suggest, you will know this is coming when you go through the kitchen. All the NPCs in the kitchen are neutral; leave them alone and keep going. The next room is a ballroom and you will find a lot of mobs. 

You can get through this room by fighting only two mobs IF you watch where you are fighting and blasting. I like to try to get the first mob up onto the stairs so there's less of a chance that anyone else in the room will be disturbed. Kill the medics first. Then go straight foward - right through the fountain - and up the stairs to the second mob. I again like to try to fight them in their alcove up the stairs so I don't pull the other NPCs in the room. 

You will now go down some corridors with more mobs - the space is tight, which in a way is good because you can't aggro more than one mob unless you really try. If you are going for bonus missions there are some rooms here to visit off the main path. If you're just trying to get this damned flashpoint over, continue straight down the hall toward that green arrow. 

After taking the elevator you'll get to the tether room, and a yellow message will flash onscreen about it. There will be a very large mob here with a lot of Dar'manda Commander silver NPCs. If Rass Ordo decides to up and die on you, it may be here. Remember there's a kolto station to the immediate right of where you walked into the room. 

Click the blue box to release the tether. Do NOT get too close to the rancor in the cage, Goldie. Back when SoV was first released, she'd aggro on you even from in her cage, and you couldn't kill her or get out of combat. They seem to have fixed that bug, but you know how that goes. 

Bask Sunn: Kill. The. Medics. First. After that, Bask Sunn has a wicked knockback, but he can't knock you *out* of the ship anymore. Remember Bask Sunn leaves a crate with your loot (look on the bridge), it's not on his person. 

SHIP #3: 

Your first challenge here will be another room with a lot of intense mobs. Take care not to pull more than one mob at once. Rass may decide to try to die here. 

You will quickly reach the sniper room. It's a long room with two snipers by the far doorway, shooting at you. Don't try to engage them; just keep running forward. As you cross this room, you will drop through the floor. It's a long fall but you won't take any damage; it's what the game wants you to do. 

Rass will not fall with you, and you will have a room of tentacles to fight on your own. Hit Unity and Heroic Moment BEFORE you fall, when you are still in the sniper room with Rass. You can use your HM abilities against the tentacles. If you really  have trouble with them, try to get out of the garbage pit; you will find a kolto station at the top of the small ramp. 

Now we come to...oh look, another room with a lot of mobs. They're so creative here. Do your best not to pull more than one at once, kill the medics, you know the drill by now. 

Troya Ajak: No special tricks. Stay out of the red circles. Her songbird volley is nasty, but she's perhaps the easiest boss in this flashpoint. 

FOURTH SHIP (The Spirit of Vengeance, I think?) 

Thankfully this is almost a straight shot to the final boss encounter, and there's a medical droid just before it. You may wish to wait for your Heroic Moment to cool down if you have recently used it. 

The silver NPC in the small mob right outside Heta Kol's area sometimes does not die. If you find that they keep recharging to full health, walk past them, put Rass on passive, and wait by the medical droid.  They should eventually give up and go back to their original spots and you can go on. 

Heta Kol: This fight has mercifully been toned down. There are two stages: 

You'll fight Heta Kol straight on. She has a serious knockback, but there aren't any special tricks here. 

1. Stage One: fight Heta. 

2. Heta disappears and a mob appears at the bottom of the stairs. There are two medics, and the Commanders will have knockbacks to keep you from killing the healers. 

3. After all the mob NPCs are defeated, Heta will return. Keep trying to hit her. 

4. Heta disappears. This time there's a mob with two gold Varad NPCs and two weaker ones at the stairs, plus two silver Dar'manda snipers on the platform. If you have any AOE skills, make sure they are available here so you can take out as many as possible at once. You may wish to consider saving Heroic Moment for this point so you can use Orbital Strike if you have it. Rass Ordo loves to die at this point so be mindful of where your kolto stations are. You might need the kolto for him, even if you don't need it for you. 

5. Heta Kol returns with a much more serious knockback and red circles of doom that increase in size and are hard to avoid. You're going to get thrown around a lot. ETA with thanks to @vespertine-legacy: The circles can be interrupted, which may make this fight easier.

And...you're done. Thank the stars. 

[worldsover]

Dal Segno ft. Chuu

length ✦ 3570

genres ✧ music making; oral fixation; facefuck; subby!Chuu

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Composition is only fifty percent of the process, you've heard, but it's closer to ten for you. For the importance of a solid melody and chord progression with the right instruments and singer, a song becomes less than the sum of its parts with bad mixing because all that effort goes to waste when you can’t hear something, or when something is too loud, or when a certain je ne sais quoi is wrong. But you do know. You don't have to be a chef to be a food critic but it certainly helps. Avoid muddling the lows as it waters down the soup. Carve space in the highs to prevent too much salt from killing the taste buds. Have at most five sounds at a time or else the flavors clash. Focus on these basic techniques to guide you as repetition wears down your mind. Funny. Repetition legitimizes especially in music yet here you are fatigued by repetition as though you weren't down four cups of black coffee. Repetition legitimizes. “From the sign,” the translation reads. Notation, simply instructing a musician to return to a certain point in a piece. You recognize it as an intro song you wrote years ago.

Glass and foam separate the undersized room. Cheap ramen and dampness in the hot air contribute to the odor. You would keep the fan on, if it were worth the extra time filtering out faint noise from recordings. The only scent that keeps you sane is a slight strawberry flavor lingering in the room. Jiwoo. Your muse. A large clock holds both of its hands near one with the lack of natural light muddling whether it’s AM or PM. Studios were always underground man-caves whether they were discount rooms or the signature workspace of the biggest producers. Here you are in the former. Look down at the Macbook and all the wires, sliders, and knobs. Deep breath. “Take 63,” you say into the cheap control room microphone.

“Not good enough.”

“Again.”

“One more.”

Look up. Jiwoo sucks on a grape lollipop. You stare. Watching her fixated on getting all flavor out of the purple sweet derails your flow state. See, work had a rhythm. Listen, volume up, hotkey to copy this clip, volume down. The obvious innuendo sends you offbeat. That perky butt bending over to get a notebook filled with lyrics entrenches the folds of your brain. She didn’t have to wear that skirt. You’ve seen that skirt already and you wish she weren’t wearing it. Oh, you really wish she weren’t wearing that skirt. Guilt sets in. You’re a trusted coworker, she, a naive girl. It takes a while to find your groove again. Your stare has yet to cease until she finally returns the eye contact with candy still in mouth. Her pink tongue laps to secure all the sugar and red pillows engulf the ever-shrinking circle. Pop. Anyone else and it would be calculated action.

“Oppa." Her voice resounds in your monitor headphones. "I don’t know if these harmonies really make sense. Why did you write the second voice to cross down below the main line? Plus it goes so low."

“To be fair, you wrote both of those melodies and you said you wanted them in the same song. Tell me anywhere else they’d work.”

“Ugh, let’s figure this out later. Next song.“

Dozens of takes later and Jiwoo’s frustration causes her to make mistakes. Sometimes she even tries to start singing with the sucker in her mouth. For the character she plays, you know she’s a professional and that she can be better. Yet hours later, she still could not get the vocal runs right. Incomplete songs bloat your project folder: "Jiwoo - Mania", "Jiwoo - Look Closer", "Jiwoo - Untitled Idea 21". Just a small side project that the company approved during another ample period of break time between comebacks. That’s why the director didn’t even let you use the company’s facilities, instead opting to rent out this cheap closet of a studio. At least no one would be mad about the amount of time you spent recording together.

You shift seats from the leather office chair to the white lovechair, the only two pieces of furniture that fit comfortably in the room. Jiwoo follows suit and leaves the recording booth, really more of a phone booth in square footage, while she huffs and puffs on her candy.

“I’m tired, oppa,” she says.

“Me too, Jiwoo. May I remind you that I’m not getting paid extra for this. Are you gonna focus or what?” your voice just a few cents down, just a bit harsher.

“I, I’m sorry.” A lick anyway. Her meek tone disappears, “Ya! You know how good your royalties are gonna be. Sole producer and all that. Plus, here you are still doing all this work for me." Why were you working so hard on this? "You know, if you just taught me how to use Ableton-”

“Then I’d be out of a job.”

Jiwoo frowns, “Wow, selfish much? You could’ve joined me as a trainee.”

“Nah, no way. Fish dance better.”

“Shut up, oppa. You would’ve easily made it with your, um, musical talent.” She clamps down on the lollipop with her mouth.

“You good? What was that?”

“Let’s," she stands promptly, "get back to recording.”

Crack. Jiwoo bites down on the lollipop and throws the stick in the trash. In ten minutes, she nails the verse she spent hours trying to get right. It'd be really nice to know what catalyzed that rally. You'd ask but driving Jiwoo back to her dorm is quiet as usual.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Make a good impression on someone, anyone, on your first day as a mixing engineer. That’s why you returned to the Blockberry Creative building with an extra bar of Melona in hand. A simple bribery. Light beamed down between two skyscrapers on a short girl with long hair and strands of bangs adorning her forehead. She stood outside the lobby, introducing herself to every passerby. You had to pinch her cheeks, the intrusive thought screamed.

She scurried up to you. “Hi! I’m Kim Jiwoo and I’m going to become an idol!”

Ah, a trainee. You already knew she was destined to become one. Well, not literally, you weren’t in charge of that. But her overflowing charm was impossible to ignore. You had to tease her though, “Are you sure?”

“Hey! What would you know about that, mister?” she said.

You bit down on your mango. “Mister? First of all, I’m only a high school senior,” her lips rounded in surprise, “And second, I’m your new audio guy, and I know for a fact they’re debuting you girls in order of talent.”

“Woooow. Well, I’ll have you know, I have a great voice!” She certainly spoke lyrically.  “Wait a minute, I didn’t know they hired people that young.” You pointed at her. “Okay, I’m in high school too. But that’s different, idols start this age.”

“I guess. I’ve been making music ever since I was a kid, and they liked what I had,” you said and Jiwoo nodded in understanding.

She fluttered her eyebrows. “Sooo, is that mango ice cream for me? Oppa?” A little surprised she already called you that, but it sounded right.

“No, I have this unopened strawberry-” Jiwoo snatched the half-eaten cold treat from your hand, and started licking it. Trouble she would be.

You spent many recording sessions together, alone after all the other members left. She cozied up to you because her little musical snippets had to become full-fledged tracks and you helped her out every time.

Something changed over the years however. Your interactions became colder. It felt like you were the only one who she would respond to in a deeper voice. Jiwoo wouldn't pepper you with silly acts or mess around. Maybe she took you more seriously which is how you managed to make more songs together regardless. Then, you stood idly by and watched her debut. Who didn't love her? But when she was with you, you missed the playfulness, the ice cream and her riffing over your playful guitar strums. It turned less of a hobby and more of a job though you never regretted any second with Jiwoo regardless.

Under the Earth's largest natural satellite, you shared a simple meal in black bean noodles. She was still in her hippie outfit from the comeback, and you handed her your jacket since it was cold. You realized, there was something else there that you were too inexperienced to notice. Your bodies' radiation replace the chill in the air, a bubble with just the two of you eating on the grass in a park near your dorm. A cliche slurping on one noodle and Jiwoo pulled away. In embarrassment, like a damn anime character, she hiccuped. Good thing you didn't close your eyes when you leaned in.

“Wanna make an album together?” Jiwoo says.

“Sure.”

You threw away the noodles’ package and escorted her home. That was all you expected anyway. Fine.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“That’s enough!”

Three goddamn weeks. It's been three goddamn weeks and you've barely made any progress.

Barge into the booth, slam the door shut and raise your tone, just below a shout, “I've had it up to here! You know how many of my songs have been mashed together in some unholy quest for your perfection? Just one unknown something is missing and either you start complaining or we move on to the next."

She backs up from the mic to the insulated wall but you continue, paying no heed to her, as you spout your piece to the artificially cold air, "You know how much time I’ve spent outside working on these songs? These are songs I’ve saved up over years. And you trash them like they’re nothing. How do you even manage to record LOONA tracks?”

Regret sinks in. This was your passion project as much as hers. Was it frustration from the recordings? Weeks of the same routine and it took until now for you to give in to your temper.

"It wouldn't even be that bad! If you could just one time, you could be cute or cheerful again with me, or,” Fuck. So stupid. You don’t have to take your friendships for granted like this. You’re lucky enough she treats you as much. “Hold on. Wait, I'm-"

Examine her face. It’s not sour and she hasn’t stormed out or even slapped you.

“No, no. You don’t have to say it. I’m. I’m sorry oppa.” She looks down. “I'm the one messing up after all." Her heartbeat a harsh snare drum. "And you. You're. Different. Looking at you always made me feel some, something funny. Not funny but? Ugh. I wish I could explain it.”

You hold in your confusion.

She blabbers on, “Like, are. Are you mad? I promise you, I,” A nervous breath, ”I like you. Okay?"

Your confusion grows like the length of your silence.

"I’m just acting how I really am with you. Do you want to maybe, I don't know, like," her voice decrescendos, "Um. Punish me?”

Your heart, your brain are deprived of blood as it all rushes down. Did you hear that right? Not an apology, not retribution, but a call to punishment? Misinterpreting her, the consequences would be dire but that damned demure tone for such an erotic request. Was Jiwoo the exact type of slut constructed in your mind? The one that made you feel sinful for even imagining. No, no, there's no way.

Too late. Jiwoo must have noticed the absurd bulge now. It had to be these Adidas pants today. Fuck it. Life can’t be lived fully without risk. Hopefully, the same switch turned in her mind. You remove all ire from your face and say in earnest, “Do you like games?"

She lights up a little. You sigh relieved.

"Let’s try…”, you say, ”Strip recording.” She lights up a little more, so you go on, ”If I mess up anything, the mix, the composition, the arrangement, I’ll take off a piece of clothing. Your choice. And every time you mess up-”

Jiwoo unbuttons her denim shorts and brings them down her tight legs.

“D- did I say now?”

However, with her resolve steeled, she continues pulling them. "So what? I did mess up, right?" she says coquettish. Deliberate the turn she makes when she bows down to remove the shorts from her legs, Jiwoo reveals a hint of her innie pussy on that same little ass that ran through your mind earlier. A small trace of her thighs glistens, the only thing reflecting the single lightbulb’s glow in the microphone’s abode. She turns back to face you. "Please. Punish me."

Step closer until Jiwoo backs up to the soundproofing. She’s an eighth note away from your face, flashing her beady eyes and a coy smile, ”Where's your underwear?" A little drop spills out onto the floor, "And why are you so wet, Jiwoo-ah?”

Red on her cheeks, like she only now realized her dishevelment in front of you. “You just… Something about you snapping at me. I don’t get it either. I knew you'd do it, some day, I wanted you to," she mumbles in her best efforts to answer you.

“Have you ever worn underwear to the recordings?”

Those efforts continue to fail.

"Oh, Kim Jiwoo. What do I do with you?" One of your hands grabs her cheek. The other crawls down her back to grab her cheek.

“Oppa… Do I have to say it?”

“I want to hear every." Smack. "Word." Smack. She slips a moan.

“Can you," she says, "can you use my mouth?”

You disguise your long pause as thought, teasing the bare skin of her ass with your exploratory fingers to bide time, but it's an expression of your shock. The interruption helps you come up with a more suitable punishment however.

“How about this then. Every time you mess up, you have to give me a blowjob. Call?”

“Call!” Once more, unprompted, she kneels down in front of you and claws away your track pants. You roll with the punches.

"Oppaa," with an pronounced pop and in a sing-songy rhythm, "I've always wanted to know, if your dick-" It certainly didn't need Jiwoo's dainty hands pulling on your boxers, as it would've sprang out on its own with how like diamond your cock is getting.

"Fuuuck," the first profanity you ever hear her utter, she lilts. "Please. Oppa. Fuck my face?"

After all she said, she could still surprise you. Bring your hips forward and just as you would've her pussy, tease Jiwoo’s lips with the head of your dick. She parts them open, starved, anxious.

Hold her by the chin. "Wait."

She freezes at the command. Again, like foreplay, rub her lips with that head making them turn redder and more plump. You sweep aside her bangs to see her begging eyes. More importantly, slide your dick up to her nude forehead to slap as a first act of retribution. “A-ah!” Jiwoo stutters as you slap her face with your manhood again and again. Bring your cock back down and she's already a mess without you even having entered her mouth. A little drool from her shut lips gently massages your balls while a bit of precum drools from your slit to meet those lips.

Jiwoo mumbles as best as she can with you holding her jaw shut and your dick on her lips, "Please. Please. Shove your dick in me. I need you in my mouth."

You squint your rough eyes to command her.

Muffled still, "Oppa. Please. I. I need to taste you. You just, you're so thick and you're so long and cock is perfect and please I just-"  Loosen the grip on her chin to let her envelop the entire tip with her warm lips. "Mmmmm..." the moan resonates a saw wave and your stern resolve fades away on your first entrance into her face but it returns as her teeth rub against you. She quickly readjusts her jaw but it takes multiple attempts of you pulling out and her sucking you back until only silken lips hold your cock's head. Finally. A focused glint in her eyes. She endeavours to keep your tip in her mouth as long as possible.

You were mad at her earlier, weren't you?

Recall this anger and press yourself into her with all your hips' strength, working against the force of her lip's airtight suction. Saliva leaks to betray the seal. Jiwoo's prying tongue explores the underside of your cock but you reach an impasse while she's not even halfway down the shaft. You shove your dick deeper but to no avail and tears roll down her eyes joining the fluids coating her lips. Thus you exit back out. And back in you go to repeat and repeat and slowly increase your rate, becoming rough sex with her diligent mouth. All the positions you’ve imagined fucking her little pussy, you picture using her throat instead. Even in this compact studio, the couch, chair and desk would provide ample support for you to use her in many ways. The dirty thoughts inspire your speed right now. She slurps and gulps at every quick plunge but you realize her moans and rumbles aren't just incoherent reactions. You decelerate.

“Ah, ahhh, ahhhhhh… Ah’ve ahways- Hmph.” She slurs as she tries her hardest to communicate while her airway is blocked.

She slides up your cock to catch some air, “Thought about it- Mmm.”

“Your dick in my mouth and it’s just so pew, fect- Ahhh.” Jiwoo's lips let go gently then her tongue sticks out to lick up your cock and she shows off a trail of spit leading to your tip. A less patient man would’ve jerked himself off right there to grant her eyes and open mouth's unison request to feed on your cum.

Instead you retort, “You think you’ve earned it? Not even halfway down. Going nowhere, just like our recording sessions, huh?”

“Shut up!”

“Oof.” You’re already weak in the knees so Jiwoo's one handed shove sends your tailbone to the floor. Since you’re still dazed by her confounding strength, she takes initiative and kowtows her head into your lap to crawl down your cock with her tiny lips. Fondling your balls, Jiwoo starts from the furthest point she could muster on your shaft up to your cock head. Her tongue follows back and she starts playing under your tip to swirl that tongue around the most sensitive parts until it explores your slit. You buckle and groan. Jiwoo sucks and spits and sucks while she circles only the most minimal twisting motion of her lips on your head. This is the Jiwoo you know. Relentless. Only now your load is her magnus opus.

Her right hand strays downwards and her face on your dick blocks a full view but you can tell that hand is working as intensely as her mouth. As she strokes herself with more vigor, she starts humming a satisfied melody on your tip. In kind, your subtle grunts turn into full-bodied moans. You're a single measure away from your coda so you reach down and pull her off your cock by grabbing her neck.

You glare into her. “Desperate little girl, aren't you?”

Her breath is stilted and she's nearly shaking. “Please…” she sobs, ”You, you want it as bad as I do right?” Of course. “Won't you just cum for me?” Not now. Not when you have putty in your hands.

“You're making a mess. You can't take me all the way down. And I see that it’s not just your saliva coating the floor.” Point to the spot where she kneels, her drool joins a stain growing ever larger with a strand of juice from her pussy flowing as you continue to berate her. Then you point to her hand. Ha. “Were you playing with yourself using my pencil?”

“No… Wait!”

You back off. “Your top’s a mess too. Anyone can tell I just fucked your face.” You take off your black hoodie and give it to her. “I’ll see you tomorrow for our next session.”

“Wait, we didn’t book tomorrow, did we? Also, you can’t just leave me like this! Oppa!”

"I said, I'll see you tomorrow. I have to go,“ you remind her, ”Ha Rin’s picking you up. And give me back that pencil.”

She hands it to you, unable to meet your eyes despite hers lusting over your cock. You'll definitely use the alluring musk on it for later to save you from your self-induced blue balls. Exit the booth. Of course she barely waits to use your hoodie the same way since she doesn’t notice you lingering in the room. Instead of hiding the grey long sleeve that soaks her neck, your used sweatshirt covers Jiwoo’s face as her fingers make the mess on the floor larger.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Swear to god I’m not just writing the cutest idols to write for. I mean maybe I am but also this answer from @nsfwtwicecatcher​ and all the subsequent pictures that I found of Chuu pouting inspired me. Also, this was a longer piece but I kept spinning my tires on it and decided to split it up, so look out for more.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Fermata, the aforementioned sequel

[mintseesaw]

Mad Passion | 2

Pairing: namjoon x reader Genre: arranged marriage au, smut, angst, fluff Word count: 14k Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, graphic sexual content, unprotected sex Summary: As you become emotionally invested with your marriage, you have grown accustomed to being Namjoon’s wife. Not until you realize you barely have an idea what it is really like to be his wife.  *unedited

Part I | sequel 

The midnight moon illuminates vibrantly on the clear, dark blue-ish sky— a clear view from the sky high cocktail bar and lounge, of which is about to approach its peak hours, serving exclusively to the hotel guests.

The four and a half thousand square foot space is indeed a perfect place to unwind minus the bustling crowd and unnecessary loud music. Among the tables neatly scattered in the open air terrace, the two men occupied the miniscule pavilion situated on the right corner of the sky high rooftop, the farthest possible spot from the little crowd growing as the night progresses.

Seokjin and Namjoon are currently on a business trip. Namjoon rarely joins him on his international-scale meetings one as he isn’t an expert of the global market of fisheries like Jin himself. This time, however, it was Namjoon who initiated the trip to meet a good number of businessmen to secure a majority vote on the retail corporation he had invested in several months ago. He was new to this particular field, which was why Jin was here with him. 

Jin was with him all through the course of said meetings. As Namjoon’s schedule abroad concluded today, it was safe to say the result of these meetings posed a good sign. Namjoon will soon take over another company. Of course, Jin wouldn’t let the night pass without them celebrating. He could’ve invited the rest of the group if they came along on the trip. So it was only the two of them who are celebrating, as Jin insists to call it. Namjoon could have turned it down, and calling his wife appeals to him more, but he really needs a proper drink even if Jin under the influence of alcohol means having to endure his annoying ass for an hour or two. “Your wife doesn’t have any idea on all of this, does she?” Jin nonchalantly asks, the alcohol cleansing his palate refreshingly from the numerous glasses he had. They had been in the pavilion for over an hour or two, he’s not certain.

Namjoon gave him a stern look, almost feigning innocence on the question his friend suddenly threw at him. “Know what?” There it was, the annoying side of Jin. Jin smirks, shaking his head. He could read his friend like the back of his hand. Amongst the group, he knows Namjoon the longest. Even with the passive expression he always wears, Jin could easily see through him.

“She doesn’t know? You’re screwed, Kim.” By now, both have already had a decent amount of alcohol in their system. The younger one, however, doesn’t appear as fuzzy as the older one. “She doesn’t need to know about my business affiliations. It would not matter what she would think of it.” He remarks, before emptying the liquor in his glass. His reply only made Jin snorted. “I bet you don’t.” He muses before continuing, “No doubt, it would be a pleasure to meet the woman who stole your heart. Hoseok told me a lot of things about you and her. I’d like to confirm it myself. After all, it’s been months since you secretly changed your marital status.” Also, he ought to know why Namjoon seems to talk too little about his wife, as if he was avoiding the subject itself. Namjoon’s eyebrow shots up. “Confirm what, exactly?”  “How smitten you are to the woman.” Namjoon leans his back on the couch, “Shut it, Hyung.” He shrugs, eliciting too little expression that only fuels Jin’s amusement further. Crossing his leg to the other, he continues to nag his friend. “I thought I’d never see the day, my friend. Have I not mentioned how surprised we were learning about your marriage in a newspaper?”

“You did, you couldn’t seem to move on from it, can you?”

“How can I? You didn’t even us at your wedding!”

“I already told you why.”

“Well, you have to give the girl a proper wedding. That is… if you already bear feelings for her.”

“There’s no need for that.”

“Did you ask her? Girls like those romantic shit.” Jin concludes, his own experience being his reference.

“The marriage is a part of the deal, Hyung.” He says in an indifferent tone, a pretense he had mastered through the years of his experience in the industry. Jin already knew the story behind his marriage, but the rare chance of pissing his friend off tempts him as always.

“If you don’t love the girl, you can easily get a divorce once you have secured the position. With the influence you have over the Korean government, there’s no way you can’t be granted a simple request.” Jin continues to press, enjoying the look of irritation growing on Namjoon’s face. Namjoon chose to keep quiet, distracting himself with pouring alcohol in his glass.

“What do you think the princess would feel if her castle has already been claimed by her King long before her father steps down on his throne?” Jin queries in a teasing manner.

“You forgot to mention she had long abandoned her throne. She already lost the title when she left.” Namjoon was quick to answer back.

Jin smirks, “Touché.” Namjoon purses his lips, letting the air be filled with silence. At the mere mention of the lost princess that is his wife, his mind wanders off. It’s been almost a week since he last saw his wife.  He misses her that no amount of alcohol could suffice. Although he consistently calls you every day, it was not enough to make peace with his mind. How should he converse with you to prolong the conversation? He loves hearing you talk endlessly, regardless of what it is about. The conversations feel restricted. Whether it was because of his intimidating self or you’re merely not interested to talk to him—he has yet to know why.

What is certain, though, is he will finally come home tomorrow.

Mingyu quietly turns the ignition on the moment you climb inside the passenger’s side. Silence has awkwardly ruled between the two of you since two weeks ago especially when you don’t initiate a conversation, yourself. His actions are always calculated alongside the formality in his voice whenever you attempt to have a casual conversation with him.

And you figured, he might have been instructed not to entertain your friendly gestures, much less converse with you.

You find his awkward but formal disposition adorably hilarious, which sometimes make you laugh out loud, that in return, earns you questioning look from him.

Since his post as personal security detail two weeks ago, Mingyu always lingers on your whereabouts. The role he plays is obviously a college student, casually eating on a table far away from your usual spot, or pretending to read books in the library when you’re studying so he could unnoticeably guard you around. The pretense alone is a dangerous task, you presume, because he is an eye catcher and he has to stay low-profile not to gets busted.

You don’t even know how they can roam around the vicinity of the campus without alerting the security department. When you say ‘they’, you’re generally referring to the team of agents responsible for your well-being. After the incident involving your friend and one of them weeks ago, they have visually disappeared. But you were not that dense to believe they’re literally gone. For all you care, they are just scattered everywhere, pretending to be whoever they are. Namjoon is too smart to have the same men follow you around. If he intentionally wants to make you think he has removed an entire team in your care, he would strategically have new faces to do the job. As if Mingyu’s presence will make you believe that he’s the only person that guards you.

Until now, you couldn’t believe your husband selected Mingyu as your shadow amongst the couple of hundreds working under his security agency. Knowing he’s territorial when it comes to the male acquaintances you have, it makes you there’s an underlying reason for it. Perhaps, is it trap to test your loyalty? But the probability of it being true is too low, because why would your loyalty matter to him in the first place?

When Namjoon married you several months ago, not only has your life changed, but your feelings too. You used to dislike the thought of being forced into a marriage with him, with someone you barely know, with someone who has so many similarities with your father.

It wasn’t just a simple attraction that you have developed towards him, nor was the socio-economic status he has. There is not even extraordinarily admirable about his personality that could justify your feelings—that unavoidably blossomed through time.

He was not the typical guy, of course. Men his age are probably enjoying the time of their lives, partying and all that stuff or perhaps, struggling to even get a decent job that would financially support themselves. He was not the romantic type of guy. Sweet talks, knows how to make you feel giddy, charms his way to your heart— he is far from that. Strange, how he still unknowingly earns more brownie points the longer you live with him, despite the uncertainty.

The awkward tension between you two have improved after months of having formal and painfully monotonous interactions. Perhaps, the rare intimacy has helped you open up to him more casually.

Despite that, you couldn’t rest your mind with the fact that your relationship with him lacks emotional commitment.

While he has the money and power at such a young age, you have nothing but student loans and your father’s last name. While he sees to your every need, it was never really established what you two are aside from the arrangement of your marriage. Unfortunately, it was just that. There may be papers which legally conclude your matrimony as husband and wife, but there’s no certainty of mutual, requited feelings. Every single day that comes and goes around, you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing that the marriage had been alternatively a result of a conventional, romantic affair. Part of you wishes he could, at least, learn to reciprocate your feelings for him.

He asked you on a date before, the first and only one so far. It turned out as expected— a little awkward because he basically rented the restaurant leaving you two alone in the spacious, luxurious place which meant having to endure silence while he enjoys his food as you try to think of things that you could talk to him about. It was, nevertheless, sweet because you have not predicted he would be thoughtful enough to know the food that you like, having it served as the main course.

Since the date, Namjoon never really spoke about it or anything that may hint another one. You’re ashamed to even admit that you’re eager to know what he feels for you, now.

Has it changed?

~

It didn't take long before you arrive at the apartment.

Without waiting for your guard, you went straight to the bedroom, the same one you share with him. Despite his absence for six days, the scent of his signature perfume still lingers in the vicinity.

Heaving a sigh, you huff on the mattress, allowing your muscles to relax, and allow your mind to wander into nothingness.

Earlier, you magically crammed mind-draining essays due today as well as made progress on your provisions for your upcoming midterms. The mere thought of it all makes you want to take a nap before proceeding with your papers, again.

After a moment of silence, you decided to have a long, warm bath instead. It’s been ages since the last time you had one since you have a waiting husband in mind whenever you’re using the bathroom even though he has several spares in his penthouse.

You did just that. And about half an hour, the comforting and relaxing warmth seeping through every part of your body, and the peppermint scented diffuser further lets your mind float elsewhere. Before you know it, you have lurked farther into the depth of your endless thoughts, slowly leading you where darkness and dreamland meet. You woke startled by an endless sound of a familiar tone ringing. And as your eyes strained by the blinding light, you mindlessly search for the source. You couldn’t seem to find where it was coming from, although you know it was your phone. The mere sound of it tells it was not in the bathroom. Where did you place it, anyway?

Still dazed with the traces of your unsolicited nap, you carefully but swiftly climb out of the tub, grabbing the towel on top of the counter to quickly dry your body. You found it on top of the bedside table. The eerie silence inside the room made the sound echo all throughout, that you feel your ears bleed as it continuously rings.

Your thumb slides on the screen after you took a brief glance at the caller.

Your abandoned, dripping hair sticks irritatingly on your nape, soaking your towel as you forget to put on a robe.

“You’re not answering my calls.” Namjoon greets, his voice unrecognizably low.

What time is it there, again? You wonder. “Sorry, I dozed off in the tub.” You replied too quickly, words jumble in your mind as they stumble out of your mouth. Listening to the words seems wrong when you have come to understand what you said.

“You what?” He asks, sounding puzzled. A trace of concern laces in his voice more than anything, although you were too flushed to take the hint. “Uhh... Yeah, I fell asleep. Sorry about that...” You sheepishly falter. As you wait for his reply, you hear some shuffling instead on the other line. 

Your mind still is blank as white while struggling to come up with a better reply. 

“I heard that, but you fell asleep? In the tub? That’s not safe.” He probably just woke up. Perhaps, that must be why his voice is extra low, though he calls you every night and it sounded quite normal in his previous calls. “Right, I’m fine though. It’s not like I would drown or something.” You try to joke.

The silence lingers for a few seconds, before you hear him speak on the other line. “You should have rested instead of taking a bath.” He lightly scolds over the phone.

A chuckle bubbles past your throat, nodding in agreement. That was your initial plan. “I will...eventually.”

“Busy?”

This time, you hear people talking in the background. He’s in his hotel room, right?

“Just about. I had a long day, spent most of my free time in the library. I presumed, Mingyu already told you that, right?”

At the mention of his name, you didn’t see the way Namjoon’s eyebrows rose, as something weak but ugly feeling stirs inside him. “Hanbin communicates with him.”

Your mouth fell into an ‘o’, nodding as if he could see you. “Oh, right. He’s fine, right? I mean you approved of him as my guard?”

“Yes. Why do you ask? I trust that you’ll tell me if he ever acts inappropriately and I’ll make sure—“

“No, no, he’s okay, I mean… uh, he’s actually really formal.” You stammer, slowly growing flustered at the way you have spoken about Mingyu. The subject itself doesn’t really interest you, it’s just that you don’t want him to be dragged into Namjoon’s territorial issues especially when he’s not around.

Not only is Mingyu a taller version of Namjoon’s physique, he is also as attractive as your husband, which didn’t matter to you as Namjoon pretty much owns your heart, that you didn’t choose to.

“Good. I’m also expecting you to behave while I’m gone.” He warns playfully.

You scoff, returning the playfulness of his tone. “When have I not?”

“Of course. You’re a good girl for me, yeah?” He casually prods although the impact of his words seem to have struck you somewhere. 

You bit your lip, started pacing back and forth with the towel as the only cover in your body. What would he feel if you tell him that?

You decided to change the subject, “Hey, listen… uh… I heard your birthday is approaching.” You begin, recalling the conversation you had with the housekeeper. This would be your first time spending his birthday with him.

“Uhuh...” He trails, silently telling you to keep going.

“Do you have plans for it?” You nervously ask, biting your nail in agitation as you kept going around the vicinity of the room.

Being a part of the elite social class means birthdays are extravagantly celebrated. You had them when you were young. Yet, Namjoon has not mentioned to you about his birthday plans, if he has any.

“Plans?” He echoes with a curious tone.

“I mean parties and stuff.” You immediately clarified back.

“Angel, I don't celebrate birthdays.” He says in a casual tone as if he was just telling you a random piece of information.

Taken aback by his response, you repeated what he said in a form of question. “You don’t?” Namjoon has not sensed the change of tone in your voice.

“I don’t. I have to go, baby. I will call you again. Hmm?” He didn’t even wait for your reply, ending the call right away.

He doesn’t celebrate his birthday? 

Namjoon, who obviously has all the resources in the world to organize the most luxurious social events, happens to have disinterests celebrating his birthday?

You mean, you have too little enthusiasm toward social gatherings but that doesn’t mean you don’t celebrate your birthday. Even when you barely have enough savings to pay for your bills, you couldn’t let your birthday pass without treating yourself or spending the day with your friends.

It sounds weird, at the same time, lonely to hear that he disregards such an occasion enough to make your heart tug painfully. He must have had a horrible childhood, you thought. Or perhaps, he’s merely not fond of any kind of celebration. It shouldn’t be a big of a deal, right?

Slight dismay washes through you at the abruptness of the call.

What is it about him being away that bothers you? Is it his safety, your safety or...his mere absence?

For the nth time since Namjoon left for his business trip, you had slept through your alarm which only meant you were late again in your first class.

The day progresses rather slowly. When it feels like you’ve spent ages sitting inside the lecture theatre, barely listening to half the professor was saying turns out to be just a couple of minutes whenever you check the time on your phone.

After what felt like a day, your break comes rolling around. Bearing the effect of sleep deprivation, your walk towards the dining hall was unusually sluggish. Fortunately, Jihyo was already on the table of your usual spot waiting when you arrived. 

Your shadow has yet to make his presence known which seems odd as he always tail you far behind, at the same time, intentionally allowing you to spot him wherever he is.

With his height, you could easily see the top of his head through the crowd, only that you didn’t need to look around because he’s in front of you and Jihyo, slightly wide-eyed with Jackson on his left, the former seemingly forced to be here.

Your eyebrows narrow in confusion. Though your friends knew you’re being guarded by him, they never really showed intention to befriend him.

“What’s going on Wang? Mingyu-ssi?” Jihyo seems amused at the mere sight, holding back her laughter as she notices the discomfort written in the poor handsome boy’s face. Your bodyguard surprisingly fits well in his all black casual attire like as if he is sporting a bad boy college student vibe. You couldn’t even point anything suspiciously odd with the way he casually holds himself as if he has his own world, not minding others’ business.

Jackson plops on the vacant seat across Jihyo’s and drags Mingyu on the seat next to him. He obligingly follows suit.

“He seems nicer and harmless than the other ones, Y/N. Had to befriend him before he makes me his next target.” Mingyu gazes at him with his sharp gaze that strangely reminds you of your husband’s stare.

“I can perfectly hear you.” He formally says to your friend, which presumably meant alternative to warning him.

Jackson paid no mind on the harmless threat, giving Mingyu a friendly smack on the back instead. “I know, bud. I’m not the enemy here, is what I’m trying to tell you.” He quips, which made Jihyo chuckle in return. Mingyu peers in your direction, then goes back to Jackson’s and Jihyo’s in utter confusion.

He probably has no idea what transpired before.

“You didn’t know?” Jackson attempts to confirm with a question.

“What?” Mingyu immediately asks back.

His act of ignorance isn’t believable enough for you. On his first day as your guard, you were stunned at how proficient he seemed to be on his pretense for someone who barely knows his way around the campus as if he’s been here before.

Shaking the thought away, you chose to butt in, “Don’t give him ideas.”

Jackson’s eyes slightly widen in realization. “You’re right. Anyways, I’m officially inviting you to eat lunch with us everyday. Is it a yes or a yes?”

Mingyu stares at him, dumbfoundedly.

“Shut up, Wang.” Jihyo laughs and then turns her head to meet Mingyu’s curious eyes. “Ignore him, but you’re always welcome to sit with us, just in case you’re allowed to— you know, eat with us.”

You only nodded in agreement.  

If he ever considers it, he never showed any sign that he did as he ate silently the whole time while he listened to the three of you converse endlessly.

Like the past few days, the home feels different and strange without the towering owner lurking around the spacious vicinity like the king, himself. Namjoon never really confirmed when he will be back. He had not brought it up again after he once mentioned that the trip would take him a week. Perhaps, longer? It’s been a week. You don't know how long you’d manage without seeing him. His absence, as you first thought, would be a sense of breather for you for the first time since the marriage happened. But as days rolled around, you only hope for the week to end so you could see him again.

The longer you ponder over the thought of missing him, the harder it is to ignore the ache on the pit of your stomach, and desire pooling between your legs. The temperature on your body feels strangely higher considering it’s not yet summer and the room is fully air conditioned like the rest of the apartment. Your hair was pulled up in a bun, clothes thrown haphazardly on the cold, bathroom floor as you skimmed inside naked without bothering to close the door.

You let the shower run as you gradually get used to the feel of the water on your skin, your body shudders ever so lightly as you step under the running water, cautious enough not to get your hair soaked in the process. Shortly after, your shoulders slug as the water finally cools down your body, your insides almost relaxing.

You drew a long sigh, eyes closing, loving the therapeutic sensation of water as it soaks your body.

It wasn’t until you felt strong arms encircling your waist from behind that the heat spirals back into your body, especially in your lower region.

Their clothed body molding perfectly against your naked back as they pull your body impossibly closed. It was too sudden, and you were probably too lost in your own thoughts that you failed to hear any strange sounds, footsteps even. A shriek of surprise went past your throat, harshly squirming in reflex. You're too shocked to process who it is until he made a hush sound, calming you down. His lips found your naked shoulder, further making himself known through his gestures. “It’s me.” The familiar voice whispers next to your ear. Your violent movements instantly halted, but the shock still is evident through erratic beating of your heart. “Joon?” you softly call, trying to peer behind to have a proper look on him. In a teasing manner, he kisses your other shoulder, ruining your intent while your body is kept locked on his arms. By now, his clothes are already soaked against your back as wet as your hair as the running water continues to shower you both. And just as his lips found your nape, his hand cups one of breasts, softly squeezing the mound, his fingers gently pinching the pink nub. Your hand mindlessly flew to the hand on your waist that is keeping your body close to his, gripping it tight enough that your knuckles are turning white. Your eyelids fell shut at the sudden sensation, biting your lip to suppress any sound from your throat. His hand didn’t stop the gentle tormenting on your breast, his warm, sinful mouth now assaulting the skin on your neck, sucking it until the spot turns purple. The mere contact is enough to make you dizzy in need, intensely lighting your long overdue desire. And then the sensation stops all at once, his hand gone and his nose nuzzling your now-soaked hair. “J-Joon...” you softly beg. He didn’t answer, yet you could hear his ragged breathing, his crotch pressing hotly on your back. “Please,” you impatiently murmur. “Hmm...” Hums Namjoon, feeling his lips on your temple. “Please let me see you,” Your voice almost breaks. It’s been a week since you last saw him, his absence certainly overwhelmed you achingly.

His lack of response drives you into frustration. Then he swiftly spins you around, his hand on your hip pushes you further until your back is pressed flat on the cold tiled wall. Palms planted on either side of your face, entrapping you.

Your mouth left agape at the sight of him. His soaked white dress shirt, clinging to his torso like a second skin, further accentuating his lean body, his dripping wet slacks evidently showing the bulge of his arousal. Your mouth instantly waters at the sight, suddenly wanting to feel it under your touch, have your mouth and tongue taste him.

But you were too nervous to initiate a move. He continues to torment you under his wanton gaze, as if challenging you to protest against his captive. His eyes then roamed over the length of your body, feasting the view beneath his lashes, “Beautiful.” His fingers caught your chin, tilting it so he could look into your eyes.

His mouth draws nearer, until it lands on the wet skin of your cheek. He mumbles against your skin, “You have no idea how much I missed seeing your pretty face. Did you miss me, sweetheart?” Your eyes closing shut, nodding. “Yes,” You manage to say, while finding the strength to rub your palms sensually on his forearms that would hopefully coax him to initiate a move. He only hums in return, to your dismay. The running water from the shower head has stopped. Namjoon probably turned it off although it was too late as his whole body is already dripping with water.

His mouth is so close to yours, teasingly hovering over the corner of your mouth. When you ever so lightly tilt your head to the side, your lips caught his supple ones. Your delicate fingers found his cheeks, deepening the kiss. A groan vibrates on his chest, the weeks worth of abstinence has not been too kind for him, and he would undoubtedly break you if he suddenly loses the control he’s been nurturing instead of his desire.

Your actions, however, are doing so little for your own good. To your dismay, he was reacting too little, maintaining a minimal response. “Joon, please...” You mumble in between kisses.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” “I-I... I want you.” You moan, your voice almost failing you from the overwhelming heat of your desire.

The burning ache on his abdomen only intensifies at the mere sound of your begging. “You have me.” He says back in a soft voice, nuzzling your cheek while keeping a safe distance between your bodies. When your hand dares touch his crotch, a low growl rumbles on his chest, swiftly catching your hand on his, restraining your very intention. Tears pool in your eyes in desperation. And as much as you want him to fuck you senseless right this second, the desire to taste him was too intense and stronger to just set the thought aside. “Let me touch you... Joon, please...” His breathes quicken, refusing to entertain your offer. But it didn’t mean his desire is not spiraling wildly, his member twitching painfully the more your pleas feed his ears. His head momentarily threw back, and you use it as an opportunity to shuffle on your knees, your hands quickly found his crotch. Taken aback by your bold eagerness, he hisses harshly as your delicate fingers found his bulge. His intent to drag you back on your feet vanishes as he took in the sight of his naked goddess— blazing eyes returning his stare while hovering over his sensitive arousal. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He curses when you impatiently palms him while your other hand trembles as it attempts to unbuckle his belt. Helplessly murmuring, “Help me...” when you couldn’t seem to do it on your own. At your helpless plea, Namjoon quickly came to rescue your little dilemma. No more than a second, his large hand swiftly unbuckles his belt, your hand greedily undid his buttons, and tug his boxers enough to release his hard member. A gasp falls on your lips, taken aback at the sudden jolt of his thick cock against his stomach before your eyes. Surprise at the size of it, your insides clenches achingly, wondering how it had fit inside you before. But realizing why his entrance burns your insides despite your wetness, his huge cock filling you would extremely stretch your walls to fit himself.

You have seen it so briefly before on your first night together, but you haven’t had the time to admire it as Namjoon took you so urgently.

Your mouth waters at the sight of a glistening pink head, your cold, delicate fingers coming in contact with his slick member to wrap themselves around his thickness.

The subtle touch of your fingers felt too good. If it’s possible, his brown eyes only grew darker, that they are almost black now. Your mind is in shambles as both of your hands gently pump their way up and down his length.

His hips stutter at your ministration. As Namjoon falls into a state of euphoria, his head is thrown back, palms glued on the wall behind you to prevent his strength from crumbling. Drawing your lips near, your tongue did an experimental lick at the glistening pink head. The harsh intake of breath you heard from him coax you further, swiping the underside of his length with your tongue before slowly taking him in your mouth. ”Fuck!” He growls so sexily at the feel of your warm mouth. You felt his cock twitched, hips bucking at your warm, inviting mouth. Then you suddenly felt your bun loosens, followed by the pull of your hair as his fingers thread into your soaked hair.

“That’s it, pretty slut.” He breathlessly praises. He draws back before filling your mouth full again. His sensitive tip touching your throat has you moaning rather erotically which only turns him on further.

He is huge, and despite willingly taking him down to your throat, the length of his cock couldn’t possibly fit all inside your mouth. Your eyes closing for a moment, suppressing the urge to choke.

“Such a good little slut for me, aren’t you sweetheart?”

Namjoon’s grip on your hair tightens, manipulating the pace to his desired speed. You didn’t care, because his pleasure matters to you more at this point.

When he glides his cock back inside, you hollow your cheeks just in time, tight enough to have him nearly gasping his next breath.

You let him fuck your mouth slowly, until he picks up a pace. Assaulting your mouth with the intrusion while mixture of your saliva and his arousal continues to leak out of your mouth.

The sounds of pleasure you hear from him only intensifies your own arousal, your stomach heating up each time your core achingly clenches.

The darkness in his eyes and the way curses recklessly stumble out of his beautiful mouth while you suck him raw takes your breath away. You’ve never seen him this vulnerably clouded in pleasure. And you’d willingly let him fuck you again this way if it means having to witness him this helpless while he chases the feel of your mouth. Your eyes never left his as you peer up from your knees. The more you listen to his pleasure, the harder you want to take him in.

When you felt it twitch again, you deliberately took him deeper until you’re nearly choking.

Namjoon has had his fair share of women— all of whom are experienced, knew their way to pleasure him. But the goddess beneath him—his sweet angel, the woman of his dreams and dirty fantasies unknowingly had him at his mercy.

The addicting warmth and suction of your mouth pulling him further into the depth of bliss. “No, angel—” He rasps in between rapid breaths, wanting to prolong the fire until he gets to fill his favorite addicting hole, so tight, he could already taste the feeling.

You whimper, “No…” You wanted it so much. The thought of him cumming undone inside your mouth is a dirty fantasy you suddenly wish to fulfill right now.

“We’ll save it up for when I’m inside your tight pussy.“ He breathes, pulling you up and bracing you against the wall. Your thighs wobble from your previous position.

His eager mouth captured yours, harshly sucking your bottom lip, teasing it as his teeth gently pierces through your bruised lip.

He could taste himself in you as his tongue thoroughly laps the inside of your mouth. Until he moves down to your jaw, his tongue tracing his tracks down to your neck onto your already purple skin while his fingers found the pink bud of your breast. It was what made you react so sexily, moaning helplessly, burying your fingers in his hair tightly as his teeth punctures the skin then laps the area soothingly.

Your body continues to heat up in his ministrations despite the cold atmosphere in the bathroom, certain that your arousal now visibly pools out of your core to your thighs.

Your fingers hastily unbutton his dress shirt, impatient to reveal his bare torso for your eyes to feast on. But just about you had undone the last button, he crouches, robbing you of the chance to admire his body. His mouth encloses on your hard pink bud, his tongue teasingly encircling on the crown of your breast as his other hand works simultaneously, squeezing your mound inside his palm.

The sensitivity of your breasts adding up to the sensation of his mouth and hand is too much, panting as you struggle to catch your breath. Until his head lowers farther down, tracing his way down with his open mouth kisses.

Namjoon swiftly pulled your thighs apart, hooking your thigh over his shoulder to see all of you.

The mere sight of your sex could already tell how turn on you are, but it wasn’t enough for him. His fingers part your folds, dipping his thumb to feel your arousal. “Ah, you’re dripping, baby. Is this for me, hmm?”

His head lowers more, mouth hovering your pubic bone, teasingly planting sloppy kisses there.

The rapid intakes of your breath did not go unnoticed by Namjoon. A devious grin spreads on his lips as his thumb starts assaulting your clit enough to have your legs trembling from bliss. The reaction he seeks from you were generously poured out of your mouth.

“Yes god. Joon please—” Your hips jerking, needing more friction than what he’s giving. He was quick to restrain your movements, pushing your hips flat against the cold wall. Your whines of frustration soon echoes inside the bathroom.

Namjoon draws his mouth nearer, his nose erotically nuzzling your front sex that you could already feel his warm breath, “You smell exquisitely alluring, angel.”

Your anticipation shortly turns into desperation, continuously sobbing his name. Your heavenly pleas were enough to give you what you want, Namjoon willingly rewarded his tongue on your clit, licking your nub so good your eyes clenched from the sudden spark of sensation.

“So sweet…” he mumbles appreciatively, before sucking the sensitive nub in his warm mouth. The act alone has you panting in pleasure.

“Ahhh! Joon—fuck!” Your fingers quickly found his hair, your grip tightening the harder he sucks and laps your clit. You were drowning in need, darkness fills your vision as they remained shut, focusing on the sensation brought by his mouth’s ministrations. You could feel yourself leaking, and made it easier for him to slide his fingers inside your aching core, rubbing and curling them until you're visibly writhing. Cries of pleasure continue to pour out of your mouth.

“Ah! Joon! Oh god!”

Your beautiful sounds alone could bring him to hilt, his cock painfully growing harder, merely listening to you as his mouth and fingers drive you oblivion.

The painful tug of your fingers on his scalp as they tighten their grasp on his hair signals your forthcoming orgasm.

“That’s it, cum for me, little slut.” He mumbles against your sex, the vibration of his mouth against your core sending you further in the brink, as the knot of pleasure building up in your stomach snaps. You cry out, his name the only thing you can articulate of, as you climax deliciously against his mouth. Hips grinding to ride out your orgasm.

Namjoon greedily lap every bit of your sweet juices, while his thumb strums your clit to prolong your orgasm. He didn’t stop, not even when he hears you whining from overstimulation. He only withdrew his mouth on your core when you finally met his gaze, coming back from your high.

Your fingers raking his wet locks out his face as it keeps the span of his forehead hidden, wanting to see all of his pretty face.

Namjoon stood, his knees skillfully bracing you flat from the wall. He yanks his soaking, white top off his body, discarding it there before doing the same thing to his slacks proceeded by his boxers, revealing his perfectly honeyed skin body. This is the first and only time you had seen him completely naked right before your eyes.

The two of you sharing an expansive closet lets you have a glimpse of his naked torso once in a while, sometimes him adorning a pair of boxers while he selects his working attire for the day. But those times were always short lived, you shying away from staring for too long than casual glances.

From the intimate instances you had with him, you never had the opportunity to appreciate his nudity. Your eyes glint with pure admiration, seeing all of him now in front of you. Your tongue dazedly darted out to wet your lips, feasting purely on his body.

Namjoon yet again found your lips, his tongue unsolicitedly invading your mouth, fighting for the dominance which you willingly gave up. He took your responsiveness as an opportunity to pull your body in his embrace, your legs following on their accord as they automatically weave themselves around his hips over his back, your hands finding purchase on his nape. His very arousal pressing on your stomach has you moaning against his greedy mouth.

Namjoon gracefully carried you all the way out towards the bedroom, completely dazed in his kisses.

He didn’t let go of your lips all the way out, not until he dumps your wet body on the mattress. Namjoon kneels on the foot of the bed, hands grasping on your hips to flip you over.

“On your knees, sweetheart.” He commands.

A sound of what he initially recognizes as a moan tears out of you. He plants a small kiss to your hip, before he hears you object, “No!”

“What—“

“I want to see you,” You whimper, pulling his face closer, fishing for a kiss.

A smirk slowly made its way on his face, eyes darkening at the sight of you helpless in his mercy.

“You want to see me while I fuck you, is that it?” He trails, pulling your thighs apart, crawling his way between your thighs.

His nose nuzzles yours teasingly, hovering over your mouth.

Heaving a sigh in contentment, you nod. “I miss you...”

“Do you, now? Or... you only want to be fucked hard?” He murmurs, mouth ajar as it tormentingly touches your lips.

Your forehead creases in a frown, “That’s not true.”

“I’ve never seen you this needy before, Y/N. Tell me, what do you want me to do?” His fingers brushing wet locks away from your beautiful face.

“Please, fuck me...”

He nods, gently bucking his hips to slide his length on your slit. “Is this enough for you, sweetheart?” You whine helplessly.

“Joon, please… just fuck me!” Plea pours out of your mouth in complete devastation. His warmth doing nothing but fuel the ache in your core as it clenches in wanton need of friction.

You beg more and more, the longer he teases you. Namjoon lowers his head further in the crook of your neck, his teeth and tongue alternately grazing and soothing the sensitive skin. The sensation feel achingly erotic, until he not so gently bit your skin, enough to leave a mark. The mere distraction made you almost forget his tip on your entrance, until he thrusts so hard your eyes closed from the undesired pain, stretching you far too much.

“Joon—“ Your moan stifles, crying out at the painful intrusion. Tears brim in your eyes as his length stretches you fully, your slick wetness welcomes him in a swift but burning entrance. He captured your lips, somehow distracting you from the unavoidable ache of your union.

You almost didn’t want him to move from the burning ache of your walls around him. He rocks ever so gently, eliciting a sound of pleasure from you. The burning ache didn’t subside, but as he prolonged the small pace he started, you became used to the pain, chasing the tiny pleasure that comes with each thrust he gives.

The sounds you continuously emit signals him to keep going, until he picks up a pace. Soon after, sparks of euphoric bliss came shooting within your core, numbing the pain.

Your lustful gasps and his grunts were in unison as you both get used to the delicious friction of your intimate union.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You deliriously moan when he suddenly pushes your thigh up on his shoulder, allowing his cock to plunge farther into your warm, tight depths until you’re writhing, your sounds were music to his ears further pulling him deeper in euphoria.

The feeling of your tight walls gripping around his cock is such a sweet, addicting sensation. The deeper he hammers into your core, the closer he gets to chase down the delicious spark of his pleasure. The new angle allowed him to discover the places untouched, thus finding your sweet spot, that has you rolling your eyes in the back of your end. Toes curling as sparks violently shoot through your core, intensifying the knot that holds your desire.

“I’m— oh yes, right there!” you gasp, “Fuck!” Your fingers tightly thread on his hair, mouth greedily seeking his attention.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart. You feel so good around me.” Namjoon growls in between sloppy kisses against your mouth. 

“So good… Joon, please... don't stop!” You sob, getting lost at your pleasure as you desperately chase the end.

Namjoon rolled his hips incredibly faster, ramming through you endlessly making you shudder from the intense sensation.

You could feel it, so close.

The violent pushes and pulls of his hips didn’t stop, rapid plunges in and out of your depths until the pleasure came rushing from the pit of your stomach.

“Joon!” You moan, the knot finally twisting, waves of euphoria shattering through your trembling body.

Namjoon’s hips stutter, savoring the feel of your clenching walls around, nearing his high. “Angel—fuck!” A long, carnal sound vibrates on his chest, as he picks up his speed while your insides tremor at the intensity of your orgasm, ferociously thrusting his cock so fast as he chases his own climax, and shooting his liquid generously inside you. His mouth attacks your breast to counter his sounds of pleasure. 

Your whimpers echo in the room, the post-orgasmic bliss mixes with the stinging sensation brought about by the love bites he generously marked on your skin slowly pulls you back from oblivion, while you listen to your pants and his rapid breathing.

When he finally comes back to his senses, his tired eyes briefly surveys your length. Your body remains still as your eyes are closed shut, chest rapidly rising and falling. Assuming you dozed off, he carefully untangles his limbs off of you to clean you up before tucking you in.

As he climbs off the mattress, your hand manages to grip his arm in time. “No, don’t go.” He hears you breathlessly whimper.

You look spent— satiated even. He could clearly see your eyes as they struggle to open still. He retreats back on the mattress, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He reassures you in a soothing tone. A sigh went past your lips in relief. You gave him a subtle nod, trusting his words.

“I miss you,” You croak, you were just so tired, and sleepy. But you can’t seem to move on from missing him too much for the past few days.

He could see it in your eyes, the vulnerable side of you in the aftermath of the lovemaking.

“I know, baby.” He whispers close to your ear as he strokes your hair in a comforting manner.

His touch, so gentle in contrast to how he rammed you to the hilt minutes ago. It was as if he was cooing you to sleep. Few moments later, your consciousness slowly shrinks, finally succumbing to darkness.

The next moment your eyes open, the first thing they search around is him. His side of the bed is empty. And the moment you dared to move, you instantly felt the ache in your muscles and the numb feeling in between your thighs. Then your eyes noticed a shirt, which you have on. Just by the size of it, you knew it was Namjoon’s but you don't ever remember putting it on before you fell asleep.

How long have you been sleeping?

It was dark in the room, the dim lights supporting just enough so you could see your way through the room.

“Joon?” You call out, looking around the room. There’s no sign of him— until your ear caught a distinct clinking of glass, your gaze instantly landed on the very subject you were seeking for.

At the sound of you calling his name, his head snaps, instantly meeting your gaze as you struggle your way towards the corner of massive room.

He wore a pair of plaid pj pants and a plain white shirt similar to the material that covers your body now. His messy hair tells you that he had pushed back his locks more than once. His isn’t this long before, and you wonder how many regular haircuts he had abandoned to have it this long. With how endearing he looks with his hair, you made a mental note to have your way to stop him from cutting it any time soon.

When you shifted your gaze away as you near the stone coffee table, you saw there on top, a glass container of expensive alcohol, a liquor glass and an ashtray which made you turn your eyes back at him. You didn’t notice the stick in between his fingers right away.

“Angel,” he greets in a curious tone, surprised to see you awake.

“You’re not asleep.” You say, your stare following his fingers as he inhales a long draw through the stick before crushing its end against the ashtray. Smoke coming out of his mouth and nose as he exhales.

His hand caught yours, coaxing you to sit on his lap. His fingers brushing away your hair out of your face. “You okay?” His surprisingly gentle tone laces in concern.

You only nodded in reply, willingly obliging onto his embrace. Your thighs curling on his lap as his arms instantly pull you on his chest, preventing you from falling off.

The lingering smell of cigarette and alcohol from his breath mixed with his natural scent wafted through your nostrils as you find yourself burying your face on the crook of his neck. You didn’t know it could smell this intoxicating on him. As if your core is not literally burning enough from the intimacy earlier, you could feel yourself slowly leaking, core clenching painfully at the thought of his thick length inside you.

His hand rests on your back, the other on your thigh, the warmth in his body enveloping you from the cold.

You tilt your head to the side, “I didn’t know you smoke.” You say in dazed of your growing desire.

“Hmm, does it bother you?”

You didn’t answer. But let yourself drink in his exquisite smell.

You felt his palm soothingly rub your back, “You should rest, I’ve worn you out.” You cheeks heating up on his mere words.

Your lips pressing tiny kisses there, on the skin of his neck.

He stills, recognizing the intention of your sweet gestures. “Sweetheart—“

“Please, make love to me Joon.”

He sighs, “I was not gentle with you, sweetheart, it’s too soon for you.”

His shirt crumples beneath your fingers, “I want you.”

The way you beg him to take you made him forget how he was striving to control himself to fuck you again and again, until his needs are temporarily sated.

He was not gentle and the aftermath of the intimacy surely left traces of pain from how tight your core is. It was the reason why he’s now several glasses in from liquor, distracting himself because it’s too soon to satisfy the urge have his addicting vice.

With your plea, his restraint vanishes so quickly, giving you what you had begged for.

He took you there on the couch.

You were clinging onto him, urging for him to fuck you harder. Your sweet moans, your stinging bite marks on his shoulders, and your warm, tight core choking his cock brought him to the hilt. Cumming in the depth of your insides raw and hard. The thought of you bearing his child briefly feeds his mind as his liquid mixed with your juices gushes out of your core.

The alcohol, being the source of his early distraction, fail to restraint him to fuck you, again. For the third time of the night, you willingly gave yourself in to his carnal needs. Despite the evident ache in your muscles all throughout your body, his touch, his kisses and the pleasure he made you feel were enough to coax you.

The next morning, you unquestionably feel horrible. You could feel your head throb, and the slight attempt of moving made you whimper in pain. The burning sensation in your core is difficult not to miss as much as the ache in your body.

Namjoon is nowhere in sight and as much as you want to come search for him, the blinding light seeping from the floor to ceiling glass wall made it such a heavy task to do so.

What time is it?

You inwardly groan at the thought of missing your classes. You have done it a lot of times before that you literally couldn’t afford to miss some more.

Feeling the exhaustion from your body, you dozed off some more and only stirred awake when you felt something on your face.

With your eyes closed, you know it was no other than your husband. His hand moves from your face to your hair, gently stroking and raking your locks away from your face.

When the afternoon break came approaching, he paid a short visit to the room to check you in. He didn’t come to his office today, shifting his appointments through digital meetings in his study.

He’s been watching you for a few minutes now. Worry creeps into him, the intimate activities must have drained your energy empty. He mentally reminds himself to be gentle to you next time.

“Hey,” Namjoon suddenly hears you greet. His gaze lifted toward your eyes.

A smile slowly spreads on his lips.

“Good afternoon, sweetheart.”

He laughs when you groan, shutting your eyes closed in distraught as you realized it is indeed late.

Frowning, “I missed my classes.”

“You did. Your friend called this morning, I answered the call and told her you’re unwell.”

“Jihyo?“

“Yes. Perhaps, you’ve rested enough?” You nodded.

Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the only time you missed most of your classes just because you were too tired to get up in the morning.

He didn’t falter the following days. Taking you one way or another. You even thought he would finally be sated with his needs after several days. You’re wrong. Because the more you allow him to touch you, the more he wants to take you shamelessly just about anywhere he can make his advances. “Joon, we’re in the kitchen.” You manage to say as his hand slides inside your sweatpants one Sunday evening. You‘re heating up a pasta that was abandoned several hours ago, starving from fulfilling your other needs. Miyoung must have kept the food in the fridge when she realized the two of you have no intention to eat the supposed lunch. Namjoon tags along, watching you prep the food in the microwave until he decides touching you seems like a better idea. His fingers almost there, where they were earlier on the bed, and if you weren't too hungry and spent, you would probably let him do you here. Your hand grips his arm tight, restraining whatever intention he has. “No one is here.” He insists, lips assaulting the skin on your exposed shoulder. The bulge of his crotch pressing on your back, feeling the evidence of his growing arousal.

A mere slave to his touch, you appeal, “Joon, can we eat first? I’m hungry,” when you feel his other hand sneaks under your shirt. His movements gradually took a pause, sighing in defeat. He kisses your temple before letting you eat in peace.

“Listen, can I talk about something?” Mingyu gave you a brief glance, although he seems to have his focus fixed in front as he drives you back home. “Of course, Mrs. Kim.” He says politely. Your face scrunches up. “I told you to call me Y/N.” That was on his first day, you instructed him to address you by your name when Hanbin introduced you to Mingyu as ‘Mrs. Kim’. Mingyu nods without returning your gaze, “I could, but I’m not sure the boss would be thrilled to hear I’m on a first name basis with his wife.” He could be right. But you choose not to voice it out. Shrugging, “I’m sure he would not mind.” “You don’t want the boss to get mad.” He states as a matter of fact, then adds, “What do you want to talk about, anyways?” You shifted in your seat, slightly angling your body towards him. “So, do you guys know what time Namjoon usually comes home?” He didn’t speak right away, eyes narrow hearing your question.

“Hanbin does not tell me that sort of information, unless it’s necessary. My job is to guard you, anyway. Why do you ask?” There was something in his demeanor that changed, or was it your mind playing tricks on you? “I... Uhm...” You fumble through the right words that could explain your plan, but all you had come up with is a simple reassurance of his participation. “Can I trust you though? You know... not to tell him?” He clears his throat and shuffles on his right earpiece. Your eyes caught it. Is someone speaking on him through it? “I’m not sure, we don’t keep a secret to the boss.” He responds, shortly. Part of his job requires him to disclose your activities and anything related to your safety. Entertaining your antics might put him in serious trouble. Your eyebrows rose. “Ever?” You ask, testing the water. His cooperation would really help you out.

His forehead creases, sizing up your words whether it’s a trap or just some white lies far from a threat to his job. “Are you questioning my loyalty, Mrs. Kim?” The thing is, as the conversation prolongs, it would be difficult for him to avoid trouble, he thought as he fails to understand your purpose.

“No. Just... it’s a different kind of secret.” Your voice falters. If you want to keep a secret, why should you drag him with it? “A secret is a secret. It would cost me my job, you know.”

Your eyes roll as if you don’t know that. He’s not even letting you talk before deciding on his own. You wouldn’t even bother telling him if you don’t need his support to pull off your plan, how will you buy stuff without him tipping it all off to Namjoon’s right hand man. Speaking of which, perhaps, you shall consider tagging Hanbin along in your plan. Heaving an exaggerated, you convince him further, “It's not something bad, will you hear me out? You won’t be in trouble if you keep it a secret. Just promise me you won’t tell him?”

He didn’t look at you, nor made an effort to acknowledge it. “Hear me out first?” You try again when he seems doubtful. His focus was clearly on the road as he shows clear disinterest to listen to you.

“Fine then...” You surrender, crossing your arms.

Silence filled the air inside the car all throughout the journey home, with you frequently shooting childish glares in his direction the entire time. When Mingyu expertly maneuvers the car on the garage, you quickly climb off the car fully intending to ignore him just so you could stir guilt in him because you couldn’t directly admit you need his help.

Unexpectedly, Mingyu catches up with you and suddenly offers, “We can talk tomorrow. On your break.” Then he sprinted toward the flight of stairs instead of usually taking the lift  before you could even process his words. 

He changed his mind that fast?

Out of curiosity, you did try to talk to him again during that night but you couldn’t get a hold of him. And going to the basement where the team camps in could raise suspicion so you waited until tomorrow.

The following day, you notice an unfamiliar guy adorning a similar all black uniform. It does not bother you though since your husband owns a whole agency. However, Mingyu didn’t show up and was replaced by a new one. Although questions start stirring up in your mind, you never really voiced out your concerns to anyone.

When you got home that night, you attempted to wring out an answer from Namjoon. You didn’t need to find him because the moment you returned from uni, he was at the foyer with Hanbin, backs facing your direction. By the mere looks of it, he was sort of giving commands to his right hand man, something you couldn’t properly hear what it is about.

“Hi.” You finally speak, catching both of their attention. Namjoon made a gesture in his hand, dismissing Hanbin while you approached his tall figure.

As Hanbin passes by you, he sends a polite nod to your direction as a greeting, before disappearing from one of the doorways.

With a few steps forward, Namjoon met you half-way, eyeing you up and down. “Sweetheart,” He murmurs while swiftly reaching for your hand, to pull you in for a kiss.

It wasn’t even just a peck. His lips have instantly dominated yours, making sure he sucked and licked your lips enough to have you catching your breath when he drew back. Your cheeks instantly flame at the sudden ministration. You couldn’t even keep an eye contact with him, too embarrassed with how quickly your body reacted to his lips. Unlike you, Namjoon still wear a passive expression, not even a single affected by the kiss. Of course, he did more than just a kiss to you before. Keeping a safe distance from him, you took a step back. “You replaced Mingyu?” You begin inquiring. Out of all the things you can ask, it has to be the very reason for his anger. He didn’t seem one bit pleased to hear you mention your bodyguard’s name instead of asking how his day had gone like your usual opening question during dinner. “I did, should it matter?” He answers with another question. Nervous by the intensity of his stare, you shrug, “I was just wondering why he’s not around.”

It’s true. If Mingyu didn’t promise the talk today, you wouldn’t be this curious. “He’s back in the headquarters.” Namjoon briefly provides.

But the information was too short to rest your mind in peace. Why did he suddenly removed him as your guard? “Oh, okay.“ Something tells you, it’s not all of that. Mingyu’s absence, for all you care, could be anything work-related or personal as long as the boss is concerned. You‘re already aware that Namjoon does not take jealousy too lightly, and somehow you’ve presumed Mingyu will inevitably be victimized under Namjoon’s territorial behavior. The problem is, you couldn’t seem to think of any instance that would make your husband jealous. Unless... Namjoon knows something else you’re not aware of.  “Will he come back here?” You ask further, nervously fidgeting your bracelet while surveying his expression. His eyebrows knitted for whatever reason, significant or not. “No.”  “Why not?” Namjoon cocks his head to the side, his now pitch black eyes strangely spoke with raw emotions you couldn’t tell what exactly is. “Tell me one good reason why he should be here...” He suggests with a nonchalant tone. Unknown to you, his patience is shrinking as he lowers his head to eye you with his tense stare. You didn’t understand what it is for, but you couldn’t help your body as it faintly shudder under his stare. “I’m just curious—”

“How many secrets of yours have you told the boy, Y/N?” Your heart momentarily stops at the mention of your name. Because he rarely calls you by name.

Is he referring to the conversation you had with him yesterday? “W-What... do you mean?” The cold temperature couldn’t even cease the rising tension between you two. “You perfectly understand what I mean.” He answers right away, locking his gaze to you. Making sure you could see the way his eyes flicker with fire. Mingyu told him?

You fumble with words, confused at Namjoon’s anger towards you. “How...w-what...what did he tell you?” “What do you think?” Namjoon returns the question back. And it confuses you more now for how your inquiry has turned into a confrontation, especially that the unnecessary anger is directed at you. You should have not beat around the bush and just directly told him you wanted to surprise Namjoon.

Now, Namjoon thinks you’re actually keeping something serious from him. Did Mingyu really snitch on you? You quietly ponder over, as you recall what happened inside the car. Mingyu was barely participating in the conversation, and the way he responded to you... it was formal, and uncooperative like the usual. The fact that Namjoon knows about it is already a giveaway that Mingyu actually tell-taled. Unless... the earpiece— “If he told you about it, then you would know he didn’t even let me talk, unless he told you something else...“ You trailed. The longer you think of it, the more convinced you are that Namjoon knows something more, just from the look he bears... “We can talk tomorrow. On your break.” Mingyu’s words echo in your mind, once again. And as your brain slowly processes the information, it gradually makes sense to you…

The way he was talking to you in the car made you believe he didn’t want to participate in whatever ploy you have, but he quickly changed his mind once both of you were out of the car. It was not his two-way earpiece. But the car-- Namjoon saw the horror slowly creeping into your face. “You heard, didn’t you...” You breathed. Namjoon heard it clearly, fully comprehending the words you just uttered.

“Something must be in that car, isn’t it?” You press, further.

He is well-aware that you’re not stupid, and you’ll eventually find it out. He just didn’t imagine it to be revealed this way. Nonetheless, his lips only pursed as he remains calm and collected, no trace of remorse or guilt visible on his face. 

His expression tells you he was not bothered by the fact that you found out. You didn’t know how the fire in your eyes is effortlessly piercing his heart. The kind he does not want to see in your eyes. You scoff, “What else—Is my phone bugged?” You suddenly prod, tilting your head up so you could fully observe him through your lashes. His face, however, maintains a straight face. You waited for his answer, silently wishing he would debunk your assumption.  The lack of response only made you confirm it. Fury quickly courses within you, “Why?” Your hands rub your face in utter disbelief. “You have me tailed everywhere by your men, is that not enough?” You spat, resentment slowly clouding your mind, 

”You have my freedom under your mercy, now my privacy? What else do you want from me?”

“It’s for your safety—”

You laugh humorlessly, harshly brushing the stubborn tears on your cheeks. “Tell me, is everything in your apartment bugged? The bedroom? The closet? The bathroom—” “Hush sweetheart, your body is mine and only for my eyes to see.” He was quick to come to your side, catching your arms. You didn’t like the proximity. It makes you weak.

“I’m not your fucking toy! You can’t do this to me!” “Calm down, baby. I love my woman submissive.” He says in a soothing tone. His words as softly as they were spoken hurt you deeply, fueling your ire even more.

You didn’t know how you found the strength to slap him. Your hand trembles, stinging from pain after it meets his skin.

“Find another woman, then!” His face barely turned from the impact, proceeding to address your anger.

“Calm down.” He attempts to console, but it only did the opposite to your ego. You trash your arms out, hating the way he still has the upperhand despite the table being turned upside down. Your strength could never compare to his as you struggle to push him. “You are my woman. Need I remind you that?” Harshly shaking your head, “No! Don’t touch me!” His grip loosens on your arms, and you took it as your chance to sprint off towards the stairs, not wanting to repeat what happened in his office before.

You locked yourself in the bathroom, somehow trusting that this is the only place kept hidden from any prying eyes. Tears uncontrollably flow through your cheeks, face buried on your hands as you helplessly listen at the loud thumping of your heart. If you didn’t pull back, chances are he would have his way to take your weakness in his advantage. The strong surge of emotions you feel cannot even compare to his physical strength.

You’re confused, hurt and disgusted all at once. You didn’t expect how messed up this whole marriage thing could get, realizing you actually know so little of him, of what he does in a living. To think that you have learned to trust him because of the stupid affection you have been nurturing for months, makes your insides twist in fury. Perhaps, it was a spur of the moment thought that you regarded as a wise decision, as anger overpowers your senses. You didn’t understand how it transpired, accordingly. When you quickly packed up a few things put the bag underneath the bed while waiting for the night to progress, Namjoon didn’t come to the bedroom. You thought it helped you leave smoothly.

Little did you know, Namjoon was watching the scene unfold through the numerous cameras simultaneously viewing before his eyes on the screen of his laptop. It was taking all of his willpower to stop you and lock you in his bedroom until your anger subsides, but something tells him it would not do good to cool down your anger.

Funny how the situation unexpectedly turns upside down as he recalls being gutted with anger. Not liking how you so easily open up to others than him. He couldn’t deny the ugly feeling traversing within him when he listened to your interaction with the boy.

As the night rolls around, the burning sensation of the alcohol in his throat becomes addicting, taking more until the ache in his chest numbs.

Jackson’s apartment was the only place you could reach at this hour. Considering Jihyo is staying in the college dorm, you wouldn’t be able to get inside the building for it was already past two in the morning. His place was not even considered a hideout. But at that point, you don't even care if Namjoon comes along breaking down Jackson’s doorway to force you back at home. You only needed a safe place away to think at the moment because you couldn’t bare to see him, yet. And you’re well aware of the effect he has on you. He can quickly cloud your judgement over his will through his mere touch. That’s how bad you’ve fallen for him.

Few days of distancing should enough for you to sort your feelings, if he doesn’t come collecting you himself.

“You okay?” Jackson croaks, seeing you trembling a little. Minutes prior, he was ready to beat the shit out of the person who was smashing his doorbell like a madman. Never would he think it was you of all people.

“He didn’t... hurt you, did he?” He hesitatingly asks, seeing the traces of tears staining your cheeks. Shaking your head, “No. We just had a fight.” “He doesn’t know, right? That you’re here?” You gave Jackson a knowing look, “He probably does by now.” Jackson offered his bed on the first night, but you turned his offer down. You took the couch instead, somehow preparing yourself for the imminent devastation of the storm. Fortunately for you, no one tried to break their way into Jackson’s apartment that night, relieved that everything is still in place or it’ll surely make you guilty for dragging your friends to your problems with Namjoon.

That following morning, you transferred into Jihyo’s dorm, deciding it would be best for Jackson’s safety. Six days insufferably passed. However, it felt longer than that. Staying away had not concluded the fight you had with Namjoon. There was also no sign of Namjoon or his men lurking around the college or the dorm in the past few days. And it bothered you more than it should have given you peace. The thought alone made you realized, you were more affected by your action as you were deeply tormented by the thoughts of him and the possibility that he doesn’t want you, anymore.

Your anger towards him couldn’t tame your feelings for him. Maybe you have underestimated it as a mere attraction—infatuation, even.

That night, Namjoon showed up in the dorm’s doorsteps, to which you had already expected since the first night. But you’re still left surprised, nonetheless.

Your heart painfully tugs, as your chest rises and falls with rapid breaths. “What are you doing here?” Indeed, it was unfair. While you wallow in despair for days, he seems not one bit affected by the situation.

“You will go home,” He calmly orders, his eyes briefly scanning you over.

As ever, he didn’t fail to make your heart thump crazily from the mere sight of him. While you look worse—missing a lot of sleep from trying to balance your studies and your issues with him, he looks stunningly gorgeous, powerful, and unfitting to be in a place like this. “No, I‘m staying.” You insist. “I’m not asking for you permission.” He corrects you in a formal tone, before walking past your figure. “Namjoon—wait! Where are you going?” You panicked, tailing behind him as he immediately finds Jihyo’s room where he scans around the small space. This is barely a room to stay in, he silently thought. “Pack your clothes. I’ll give you five minutes before we go. Unless, you want to leave without them—” You didn’t let him finish, cutting him of mid-sentence. “No, I'm not coming with you.” You compel, determined to follow what you had planned in your mind.

The look on his face is all too familiar, the one that tells you he won’t take no for an answer. “Do not test my patience, sweetheart.”

“Namjoon, stop.” You begin, visibly in distress by the sudden shift of the situation. You are aware he always has the upperhand.

“I want to stay here. Can’t you at least give me that after what you’ve done?” You implore. As much as you miss him, you couldn’t afford to see him yet, or it could break you. “I already gave you space, that’s enough for you.” Shaking your head, “I didn’t ask you to. I left.” You say. His height does not intimidate you anymore, but the way he holds himself now, he seems different. As if he was deliberately trying to make you succumb to him.

“Sweetheart, I had all the means to stop your ploy if I wanted to. I didn’t, because I figured you would need it.” Declares Namjoon, drawing himself closer to where you stood.

You took a step back. “What if I don't want to?” You challenge.

He lowers his head, allowing you to have a glimpse of his dark eyes, silently warning you. “You don't have a choice, sweetheart.”

You let him win, again. Because you were left with no option. You couldn’t think of anything else that you could do to oppose him without compromising anyone, especially your friends. Nothing you could do but to give in for now.

Namjoon already disappeared from somewhere when you entered the living room, leaving you all alone until you hear footsteps nearing towards your direction.

You turn to see who it was.

“What are you doing here?” You warily ask, utterly surprised to see him. How many more surprises do you need yo deal with today? By how ugly the events have turned out, you won’t expect to see him again, or anywhere near the penthouse. He gave you a nod as a form of greeting, before answering, “Working. What else do you think I’m here for?” “For Namjoon?” “Of course, he’s my boss. But he gave me a specific instruction to guard the queen.”

You only gave him a look, although with the obvious height difference, you had to tilt your head up to do so.

Your visible annoyance quickly amuses him. After what happened, he really has the nerve to smirk right in front of you?

“I’m sorry Mrs. Kim, but you look horrible today. You alright?” He shamelessly nags to which earns him scowl from you. “That’s nice of you to say.” You retort, “I’ve been missing a lot of sleep, thank you very much.” He laughs as if nothing really happened.

It’s not his fault, anyway. You don’t blame him for what happened. However, the urge to ask him why he’s back here almost slips past your lips. Only that you remember someone could potentially be eavesdropping to which you didn’t need unnecessary suspicions from Namjoon, anymore.

The conversation was short lived when Miyoung called you in, gesturing for you to come with her in the kitchen, not expecting to see Namjoon sitting in one of the stools in the island counter where food is sumptuously served.

Your footsteps stagger, half-considering to leave the kitchen. However, Namjoon patiently waits for your next move, as if silently ordering you to take a seat.

Heaving a sigh, you did just that, not wanting to stir an argument with him.

Once you sat down across from his seat, he starts placing various food from the empty plate in front of you, until it is almost full that you’re not sure if you can eat all of it.

“Stop... I can’t finish all of that.”

Namjoon pauses, peering at you in disbelief. “You can, it’s your favorite.”

You didn’t like the way he was acting up like he didn’t cause the problem in the first place. You hated how the impact of his action didn’t seem to affect him a single bit.

“I’m still angry,” You couldn’t help but to say.

His serious stare tells you he has no time for a confrontation, but so are you.

“I know, you can be angry for as long as you want. But please, angel, eat the food so I could have the peace. You haven’t been using your cards for your meals, did you intentionally do that to make me worry?”

You scoffed, his indifference to your issue only frustrates you even more. “Why would you think I’ll use your money while I’m gone?”

“You don’t have the means to live independently.”

“That’s not the point here, Joon.”

“It is, when you were not looking out for yourself. You haven’t been coping well… you look a few pounds lighter.” He said in a firm persistence to prove your inability to live well without using his resources.

So what if you were miserable? You couldn’t really force yourself to eat if you didn’t have the appetite to consume food. Either it was because of your distress over the fight or food simply didn’t appeal to you.

Speaking of, you barely touched the food in front of you. You’re not even hungry anyway.

“Shut up—“

Namjoon was quick to cut you off, dismayed by the lack of light in your eyes, you almost look like you’re about to pass out. “Why is it so easy for you to disregard yourself for your pride? If you have been taking care of yourself well I would have given you longer time to mourn in that little cubicle room you call a place.” Namjoon says in a clearly disappointing tone.

The fact that you lost a few pounds in a matter of days bothered him. It took so much of him to let you wallow in despair, he knew that disrespecting your privacy is not right and he understands how it left you scarred with the horrid feeling of betrayal. The same reason why he let you on peacefully for days, until he couldn’t handle it no more.

The short glimpse of you while he had you followed only did more damage to his heart than the peace he was aiming for. A single look from you and he already knew the fight took its toll on you deeper than what he had expected. Your physical state was the last straw to make up his mind to take you back, unwilling or not.

“My pride? You think it’s because of my pride? You think I’m mad because you outsmarted me with your stalking shenanigans?” You echo his words, finally losing the will to touch the food.

“What else is there to be angry about, I told you, it’s for your safety.” He counters back. His mind was spiraling wildly, uncertain how to handle this situation in a way it wouldn’t upset you more.

Namjoon was used to having the control in every situation, a single look from him and no other human being would dare speak further. He used to not care whether he could tear anyone apart with his mere words or sharp glares. He tried it with you and the impact only came shooting back at him, there in the depths of his heart, which no one had been able to inflict him with such raw powerful emotions, enough to make him bend helplessly on his knees.

“That’s the problem! You didn’t even tell me! I was kept in the dark all this time! And now what? You suddenly care about me when you didn’t even consider what I would feel when you gave everyone else something to snoop in about right under my nose?” You accuse, finding the strength to hit him with your words. A moment ago, you felt too empty to even bother a conversation with him. As the remnants of disgusting feeling stirs within you, you now want nothing but to lash out every bit of your anger towards him.

However, Namjoon didn’t want the confrontation this soon when he just had you back home. Though he would not avoid it, he believes now is not the time to talk it over.

“We can talk after you eat, sweetheart—“

“No, we will talk now!”

His gaze pierces straight through your eyes. Although his eyes almost reflected defeat, the aura he carries is so powerful. No one would ever dare scream or say no at him, unless, they don’t value much of their life.

You really are something. Someone who can never compare to him, someone whom he can easily crush in a snap of his fingers— but you’re not just some woman out there. You are his woman, the only one who has bewitched him—not only claiming his heart but also owning his dark soul. If you only knew the effect you have on him...

Silence fills the cold air, shortly. As you look away, not liking the effect he has on you, he quietly seeks for your eyes. He could always see through you—the emotions your eyes transparently reflect. He failed to see any of it when you turned your head away.

He sighs, before breaking the cold silence. “No one can access your phone, you don’t have to worry about it. It is for when… something happens, I could track your location and your digital activities.” Namjoon briefly explains.

There are things that should be left unsaid for your sake. His company has long strayed away from the black market since his father died. But the industry he belongs to will always bear ugly truths in order to sustain the reputation of his company. What he did, to put it into the simplest terms he could articulate of, protection does not only mean hiring people to be your human shields. In this digital age where perpetrators can utilize technology to harm their target, something has to be sacrificed to protect an individual alongside. In your case, it was your freedom, privacy and much more you have yet to realize. He didn’t want you to run away every time you learn something about him or the kind of business he has.

He could not tell you anything else.

“Liar! You’re only saying that to validate your action.” You say in an accusing tone. You got up from your chair, increasing the distance from him as the ambience gets suffocating.

“I’m not justifying what I did whether it’s wrong or not. I would do it again if it means to protect you. When have I not shown you I didn’t care?”

He didn’t mean no harm to disrespect your privacy, but that’s just a part of many things you would have to deal with when you’re married to him. Danger has come along with his name long before he was born.

As he steps closer, you quickly step away. Your head lowering, avoiding his eyes. “W-What are you… saying, you shouldn’t have kept it from me, in the first place. You don’t have to pretend you care. You’re only protecting me because I’m your responsibility.”

His forehead creases, “You are my wife. That makes you my responsibility, isn’t that the same thing for caring, sweetheart?” His hands extend forward to coax you closer.

You shook your head, “No.”

You couldn’t deny that he’s been attending to your needs, being more than just a guardian, crossing the line beyond the role of a mere provider. He became someone you have come accustomed as a husband despite the lack of emotional commitment from him, a friend under the guise of a husband. Even if you wanted more from him, who are you to demand such thing? The mere thought of your unrequited feelings towards him painfully tugs your heart.

Namjoon caught the raw emotions swimming from eyes. To what are those for?

“Have I not shown you enough? With my actions, with my kisses... when we make love—“

“Shut up, you d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about.” You stammer, turning your back at him as you feel your eyes welled up. 

“Then tell me how you feel, I can only take so much when it comes to you. I’ve never felt so helpless when I see you suffer, when you cry. Baby, I was so lost when you left. Tell me what I should do.”

“Stop… you’re confusing me with your words.” You croak, as you struggle to process his words.

The sound of his steps nearing made you still. Your eyes clenched shut, and as the tears stain your cheeks, you quickly wipe them away. Namjoon is so close, you literally could feel the heat of his body. 

“I’m not good at expressing my feelings. But I thought I made my intentions very clear. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you baby, please let me hold you.” Namjoon drew himself nearer, until your bodies are touching. When you made no effort to distance yourself farther, he cautiously encircled his arms around your waist.

You remain still as he pulls you even further in his embrace, nuzzling your hair from behind. You hate yourself for giving in too soon, the moment he has you locked in his arms, your anger quickly melts away. The warmth from his body felt too comforting as it slowly envelops your body, reminding you one again how much it tore you apart when you left. The ache in your chest, somehow, subsiding. You didn’t want him to let you go from his hold.

His nose traces an invisible path on the side of your head, loving the alluring scent of your hair. Softly murmuring just above your ear, “I have loved you since the day I saw you taking orders in that coffee shop. While you made me this crazy for you like no one else has ever done, you’re willing to leave everything. It was that easy for you to walk away and leave me, just like when you left your home for your freedom—“

The hard thumping of your heart is so loud as you cut him. He could probably hear it from the close proximity of your bodies.

“No, that’s not true! I didn’t leave you,” you pause, shaking your head violently to give emphasis on your point. Your heart aches, as your chest felt suddenly constricted hearing his confession. The information felt foreign in your ears, as if you were hallucinating. Is it true? Did he really know you way before you met him?

“I needed some time to think for myself. But I wouldn’t leave. I could never… I’ll always come back. I would come back to you.” Tears instantaneously flow in your cheeks. 

Namjoon spoke no more, as he squeezed your body in his arms, burying his face on the crook of your neck. Savoring this moment.

You in his arms.

You barely had a glimpse of what kind of his life he has, and have no knowledge of half the ugly things he had done. The deeper he falls for you, the more he willingly succumbing himself to your mercy, as if surrendering a dagger for you to destroy him through his weakness.

He silently wishes from the gods above that you would never walk away from his life again, when pieces of him slowly unravels to you through the course of time.

“Namjoon,” you whisper, seeking the attention you unknowingly have.

“Don’t leave me again, Y/N. I can take your anger, scream at me, hurt me— anything. I can take so much from you, as long as you’re right in my sight, the way I can protect you. I’ll give you as much as time alone.”

“Joon,”

“Promise me—”

“Namjoon!” You plead loudly, tugging his arm to gain the attention you want.

He takes a deep breath, confused at the tone of your voice. “Hmm?”

“I love you, too.” You murmur so suddenly.

He stills, hearing the words he had heard you say in his dreams. This time, he was awake with you in his embrace and he was uncertain if he actually heard the words right.

“Angel—”

“I love you so much.” You repeated, with a longing voice, this time you turned to face him. The look in his face tells you all of it. Shock was written all over his face, as if your confession was something he was not expecting in his wildest dream. Between the two of you, his confession of love for you is the most unpredictable thing you heard from him.

You tiptoed, reaching for his lips. He quickly met you halfway through, greedily capturing your mouth. His tongue went past your parted lips to dominate the kiss. You sigh against his mouth, missing the rich taste of his lips.

Nothing else matters now but his embrace.

Note: Hope you all enjoyed this one sjajahahagj 

This turned out a bit longer than what I had initially written only because I kind of included something to introduce characters/details that are part of my upcoming series. 

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