#i do not get very far because i do not know what to do next

[clockwayswrites]

A Bird and a Menace of Bats - Part 17

masterpost

“We could always look up where he lives,” Tim suggested.

Bruce gave his son a tired look, turning slowly that he was sure not to jostle the sleeping man on his shoulder. “No, we can’t.”

“Sure you can. WE has to have it on file.”

“That would be a gross misuse of my postilion and an invasion of privacy,” Bruce said. “As in something Danny could very well sue for as us taking him home has nothing to do with his work and why we would have his address on file.”

“What about his driver’s license?” Duke suggested.

“He doesn’t have one, or at least not on him,” Dick said. He had Danny’s jacket pulled open and was carefully feeling inside for pockets.

Next to him, Jason was going through the card pocket on the back of Danny’s cellphone case.

“He does have a rewards card for Lacey’s though, so good taste there.”

Bruce rubbed tiredly at his face. “Dick, stop looking for a wallet. Jason, put all the cards back where you found them, please, and no hacking the phone.”

“You’re no fun anymore,” Jason said in a mocking whine.

Stephanie stifled a snicker.

“Stephanie, stop stalking him on social media and Babara, stop using what she’s found to try and triangulate where he is from,” Bruce said.

“Jason’s right,” Stephanie said as she slumped dramatically back into the seat, “you’re no fun anymore.”

“Yes, how boring of me,” Bruce drawled, “not invading the privacy of a man so unwell that he fell asleep in a noisy limo full of near strangers.”

Cass leaned forward at that.

Bruce quickly shifted gears to try and reassure her. “He’ll be alright, Cass.”

“Breathing is shallow. Heart?”

Bruce nodded. “He said there was an accident when he was a child that affected his heart and pulse. It was very slow and weak early after he stood up from his seat and had to sit back down. But he also said that it wasn’t unexpected and that he’s been to his doctor recently.”

“He did take this week off.”

“Tim.”

“What?” Tim said defensively. “He befriended my sister, I had to check him out.”

At least that was a reasonable excuse in case Danny was hearing any of this.

“If he’s doing badly, he shouldn’t be home alone, right?” Stephanie asked far too innocently.

“Not that we even know where he lives without waking him. Shouldn’t we let him rest?” Tim added.

“I shall start to the Manor then,” Alfred said, bringing an abrupt end to the discussion so suddenly that was that.

For what felt like the millionth time that night, Bruce sighed heavily.

-

It rather said something about the family that they were both efficient and graceful in getting an unconscious body out of the car. Bruce, with Dick’s help, passed Danny to Jason who held him out of the way as the rest of the family climbed out. Bruce was surprised to have Danny passed to him the moment Jason was able, but Bruce was quickly distracted.

“Right?” Jason asked.

“Hn.”

“Hn? Hn what?” Steph asked, popping up at Bruce’s elbow.

“The guy’s too light,” Jason answered. “It’s like he’s got bird bones.”

Tim stifled a snicker. Bruce, once again, sighed.

“Tim, take Steph and go help Alfred make sure the room is ready,” Bruce instructed. “Dick, help wrangle. Cass, darling, go rest. Jason, manage the doors for me, please.”

There was a coarse of agreement and the children were off. Bruce and Jason followed more sedately to be gentle on Bruce’s sleeping cargo.

“Jokes aside, he’s too light,” Jason said, keeping his quiet words between them. “This might be more than just a weak pulse.”

What Jason didn’t say is that they knew it was more than just a weak pulse—or at least it had been that night. It was concerning to think what lingering effects the transformation might be having on Danny. Especially concerning because…

“Cass is already attached,” Jason said, as if finishing Bruce’s own thoughts.

“I know.”

“And now the others are curious. Well, more curious.”

“I don’t suppose I could pay you to keep them in line?”

Jason snorted. “Even you couldn’t afford that, old man.”

“I was afraid not,” Bruce said as he fought back a smile.

Despite Jason’s refusal, Bruce knew that his son would keep his eyes others. Jason wouldn’t likely stop them, but he would keep an eye on them. Danny was still enough of an unknown that Bruce couldn’t help but be wary of the man’s presence in the middle of the family.

At least the guest wing was on the other side of the Manor from the family wing. The spaced eased the anxiety, a little. Alfred was just finishing shoeing Stephanie and Tim from the guest room as they approached and Jason peeled off to take his leave with them. Bruce entered the room with Danny on his own.

And apparently it was going to stay that way as Alfred said, “I trust you to see our guest settled,” and closed the door.

Bruce resisted the urge to sigh one more time.

At least Alfred had already folded down the sheets.

Bruce laid Danny down and started with the dress shoes, mostly to delay having to decide just how much clothing was appropriate to strip a near stranger of. After all, Danny didn’t know that he had slept curled up with the whole family once before. Bruce was also aware that he had less propriety than most people, given his unusual night life.

By the time the shoes were off and set aside, Bruce decided that the bare minimum would likely be most comfortable for Danny in the morning. The tie and belt went onto the seat of the nearby arm chair while the suit jacket was draped over the back. Danny’s phone was set on the nightstand. Alfred, of course, already had clothing set out for Danny to change into in the morning, should he wish. Bruce left it at that and covered Danny lightly with the sheets before he took his leave.

[lufyuu]

Dragon's Offsprings

Tw/s: voyeurism, double penetrating, rough Zihao, breeding, inserting eggs(?)

Description: a drabble of the freaky Zihao

Pitter patter

The rain seems to never stop. It has been raining for almost 3 days straight. Despite the heavy rain, Liu Zihao would always travel the long way to the courthouse to work. The rain doesn't stop criminals from commiting crimes, it encourages them in a way. Though that doesn't include you who have been in the manor for a long month. You got used to this lifestyle a long time ago. Waking up whenever you want, going to bed whenever you want, having whatever food you wanted. The only restriction is that you are not allowed outside without Zihao being there by your side. It's not too bad, better than being chased all the time anyways.

Today's not too bad, at least so far. You're home alone, the chefs and maids having left as per your request. Despite being home alone, you can't escape, you've tried before and it's really no worth all that work just to be tracked down again in just a mere minute. Liu Zihao always knows where you are. You look at the clock which points at a quarter to 6pm. Usually Zihao's home for dinner around this time. Whatever, probably had more work to do today. You'll just eat dinner by yourself.

The aroma of delicious food floods your nose. Your eyes are drawn to the two plates placed on the table. You take one plate and start munching on food while sitting down. Even if it's a large yet quiet and empty house, you pay no mind to that as you've lived alone for a while before all this luxury. The steal is cooked just to your liking, it's juicy and delicious with the right amount of spices added to make sure it's not too salty yet not bland at all. After chewing on the steak, you take the fork and grab some pasta plates next to the steak. Twisting it and lifting the fork to your lips. It's creamy and flavourful, the saltiness and creamy flavour compliments each other very well. You enjoy the meal to the fullest in silence, enjoying every second.

You throw the empty and dirty plate in the sink, not bothering to wash it. Zihao will deal with it like he always does. No reason to waste your time with that. 'Now what do I do?' , you wonder to yourself while walking up the flight of stairs, heading to your bedroom. Oftentimes, your bed is also Zihao's bed. He loves cuddling up with you and just making sure you're within his grasp. "Agh", you plop face first onto the soft bed. For some reason, the atmosphere is off without Zihao. Usually by this time, he'd already be fucking you dumb until you pass out or get too tired to continue. You wouldnt ever admit it but it became a routine. Your body's gotten used to it and so have you. Because of this, you feel like you need to do something about this itching feeling you have.

"Ah...ngh", you moan, face flushed with a vibrating dildo deep in your hole. Your teeth's biting onto your lifted shirt, your dominant hand pushing and pulling the dildo in and out. "Z-Zihao..mm..!", you unconsciously moan out his name, your other hand now on your dick going up and down to stimulate yourself even more. No matter how much you stimulate yourself, you can't seem to cum. You need something bigger to please you. Usually you'd be ashamed to even think about Zihao let alone his two cocks but right now, as you're trying to chase your climax, it doesn't matter. "More...aagghh", you moan out even louder than before, not noticing the piercing purple eyes staring at your sweaty and horny figure from the top of the stairs.

You close your eyes, imagining it was Zihao inside you right now and not a silicone wannabe. "F-fuckk..!", you almost yell out, getting so close to cumming. When you hear footsteps close to where you are, you immediately freeze and look at who it is. Your ego instantly crushed, the embarrassment getting to you, hard. You reach over for the fluffy blanket only for it to be thrown at the wall and fall onto the floor by a mere gesture of Zihao's fingers. With another snap of his fingers, a comfortable chair appears infront of the bed. He sits with his legs crossed, head leaning on his hand which is cushioned on the chair. "Do continue", his expression remains unchanged, it's a plain expression, neither a smile nor frown, his eyes are relaxed but at the same time, they're demanding you to continue on your little action. Despite this, you remain frozen long enough for him to demand once more, "was I not clear? Continue your little activity, now.", it sends shivers down your spine, as if he's a predator and you're his prey.

Without a way out of this, you spread your legs and continue letting the dildo go in and out of you, each time faster and faster than before. Now with a pair of eyes watching you do this to yourself, it's embarrassing, you feel like crying due to how bad of a fall your ego took. Never in your life did you think you'd be putting on a show for anyone. "Ngh...", you try to cover your own voice, biting your lip to prevent your moans from getting too loud. This doesn't amuse Zihao at all. "Stop biting your lip", his voice alone makes your body shiver in fear. Reluctantly, you stop biting your lip, "a-ahh...aggh..", the pleasure overtaking your thoughts, in the heat of the moment, you blurt out: "Z-Zihao.."

Just one word. One singular word. That was enough for Zihao to widen his eyes and instantly get up, "that's enough.", he looks down on your figure which is laying on the bed, all prepped and ready to take his cocks and maybe something more.

In a blink of an eye, he pushes you to the bedframe as you are now sitting up, your back laying against the bedframe. He takes off his coat and throws it aside, not caring if it got dirty or wrinkled. "My mate can't even stand a few hours without me, how cute", he smiles a bit, blushing while you're up against the bedframe, horny and wanting him to be deep inside you already without so much yapping.

As if reading your mind, he grants you your wish and shoves his two hard cocks in your hole almost immediately after you thought about them. He guides your hands to wrap around his neck. Then, he holds the sides of your hips and begins to pound in and out of you, you cursing everytime it goes in. Thankfully, your hole is already lubricated, giving the cocks an easier time in fucking your hole. You feel so full but usually it takes Zihao a long long time to decide it's finally time to stop. His thrusts are rough, not in the slightest bit gentle. The bulge on your stomach is very much visible, it moves up and down your lower stomach in a fast pace. "Agh..m", he grunts and moans, feeling the tightness of your hole as you clench down, feeling close to cumming. Your moans get progressively louder by the second. Zihao makes sure it does by pounding even harder.

"Cu-cumming..! Aggghh", you moan loudly while cumming, the cum splurting all over your own body while Zihao is still pounding you. He's chasing his own climax. You feel overstimulated as he's pounding so roughly. It's a lot rougher than usual but you barely notice due to your brain being so foggy by this point. "You're ready to take my children, aren't you my dear mate?", he asks but it's more of a rhetorical question. Before you can answer his absurd question, you feel something being pushed into you, something big. Multiple of them. "Z-Zihao..ah, what's tha—aghh", you feel him cumming inside, his cum thicker and much more than usual. You don't notice it but the mark on your lower stomach started glowing for a mere 3 seconds before returning back to its solid purple color.

Zihao pulls out both his cocks yet despite that, your stomach still has a visible bulge. You feel so so full and not just because of his cum. "Zihao, what's inside me..?", you ask him, confused on what he put inside to make you look bloated. "Oh my dear, those are my eggs", your eyes widen immediately and you try to jump up or out the bed but he stops you, "we can't afford you getting hurt when you're carrying our children", he frowns and looks at you as if this is common knowledge. He's ready to take the role of the father of his kids and your one and only husband, but are you?

══════════════════════════════

There you have it freakies, you're now gon' lay eggs/hj

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy

Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!

Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff

It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.

He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.

He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”

“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9

But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.

“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.

“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.

“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.

But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.

Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”

He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.

Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.

“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.

But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.

“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”

He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.

Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.

“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.

With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.

“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.

“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.

“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?

“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”

“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”

The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.

“Or she.”

Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.

You matched each other perfectly, in every way.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Put it on My Tab

bouncer!!logan x bartender!fem!reader

summary: You’re a bartender at the club where Logan is a bouncer and he’s going to deny his feelings for you until he’s convinced himself that he’s lost his chance.

cw: hurt/comfort

“Do you really think you can get away with this?” Logan asked the girl who was standing in front of him. She clearly wasn’t of age and the photo on the fake she had handed him hadn’t even resembled her. And the cherry on top that was that “Minnesota” was missing one of the n’s.

“And do you really expect me to believe that you were born in 1988? You don’t even look like you could have been born in 1998. I can’t let you in, kid.” He could see that the girl was crying and to the untrained eye, she definitely could have been. But Logan had been in the business long enough to know that she was just trying to garner sympathy, which never worked on him. Crying, if anything, just made the man feel uncomfortable. 

“You’re such a dick,” she cried as she watched him bend the ID right before her eyes. It wouldn’t be the first time he was called that and it certainly wouldn’t have been the last. 

The ID was tossed into the trash can right next to him and he waved the next person forward as the girl slowly moved out of the way, making her sobs louder and more pathetic as a way to get him to change his mind, but he wouldn’t. He never did. 

“You’re good,” he told the man as he glanced over his ID before handing it back. The job got monotonous, but it was definitely better than being Wolverine, as far as how easy it was. And it definitely wasn’t stressful unless there was a fight he needed to break up, but security usually handled it before he got there. 

He actually loved his job, if he was being honest, but that was really only because of you. The second he laid eyes on you, he was convinced that he was in love. Maybe. He didn’t know what love felt like, but all he knew was that he liked you. A lot. Even though he was going to convince himself that he didn’t. He tried to be mean to you to make you leave him alone, but that only made you want to see him more. And let’s be honest, as soon as you flashed him that megawatt smile, he was done for. His legs felt like jelly and he couldn’t help but smile back even though it felt very foreign. 

And as soon as you told him he had a pretty one, he was smiling all the time for you, just begging for you to say it again, and you did. If it wasn't that, you were calling him nicknames which would have usually angered him, but since they were coming from your lips, he hardly minded.

The night seemed to drag on as he counted down the minutes until he could have a drink at the bar, just you and him as everyone else had gone home. You had insisted on staying, giving him a drink in exchange for a ride home that he always gladly gave you once the alcohol was out of his system.

He smiled as he saw that his glass of whiskey was sitting on the bar, but you were nowhere to be found. He supposed that maybe you were in the back, neatening up the space. But when he went to check the back room, his heart sank as he saw you giggling with Brett, the bar back.

He had seen the two of you doing that exact thing on multiple occasions and it made him sick, angry even. Even though he didn’t feel like he had a right to be because the two of you were just friends. And perhaps that was what he was convincing himself that he was to you. Even though he wanted to be more. Even though he often fantasized about kissing you right in front of Brett to show him what was what. And on some occasions, he imagined bending you over the bar and having his way with you. Pounding into you, making you tell him who exactly it was who owned your cunt.

“Oh, hey, handsome,” you greeted with that smile that always drove him crazy and he couldn’t help but mimic your actions. Because the truth was that he couldn’t be mad at you if he tried. You somehow had broken down his walls brick by brick and had even managed to thaw his frozen heart.

“Hi,” he replied, trying his best to not let his literal claws come out, trying to keep his cool and do those breathing exercises that you had worked on with him.

“Hey, Leonard, was it?” Brett asked, averting his gaze to Logan and the man was close to rocking his shit, you could see it.

“It’s Logan,” you corrected. “I’m all good here, Brett, if you want to head out.”

“Okay, cool,” he nodded and clapped you on the back before weaving his way through the maze of boxes, moving quickly past Logan and fleeing the room, leaving the two of you alone.

You stared him, covering your lips with the tips of your fingers in an attempt to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape your throat. And Logan was not having it. The night was long and he was just ready to go home, his whiskey that he so desperately wanted, getting watered down by the second.

You stepped forward, pushing the boxes out of the way, moving to stand on front of him. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders and you gave him a warm smile only for him to turn away from you, his signature scowl making its way back upon his face.

Without a word, you grabbed hold of his chin and forced him to look you in the eyes, still trying to hold that smile, desperate to see his own, the one that was specifically for you.

“Smile for me,” you commanded, your voice still soft. He showed you his teeth, but there was no actual smile. “Logan,” you giggled. “Just for me? Please?”

He smiled then, showing you his teeth and you felt your heart swell, knowing that you were the only person who could make him do it. And your heart leapt as you saw it slowly appearing on his face, pulling him into a hug.

“I’m not with Brett, by the way,” you changed the subject rather quickly. “He’s just a friend. More like a brother actually.”

"What?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing and you desperately wanted to smooth them out, to find a way to help his mind stop from reeling.

"I'm not with Brett," you repeated, closing the space between the two of you, reaching up to move a piece of hair that had fallen to his forehead, putting it back in place.

“You say that as if it’s supposed to mean somethin’” he muttered, his signature frown making a reappearance.

“I thought it did," you shrugged. "Because if looks could kill, he’d definitely be dead.”

He just glared at you and you smiled again, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck while his stayed by your side. His hands were itching to hold you and he was trying to fight it off, trying to convince himself that he wasn't so desperately, hopelessly in love with you.

"And it should mean something to you." Your finger poked his chest and he just stared back at you, clearly missing the point of what you were trying to get at.

"Why?" His head tilted to the side like a little puppy and you just sighed, wondered why he wasn't understanding what you were trying to say. Wasn't it obvious? Maybe you were being too vague, but you were sure that you had said everything you could to get your point across except the actual words.

"Because," you rolled your eyes. "Look at the facts, Logan. We both know I get a lot of people asking to take me home every night and I let the grumpy bouncer drive me home. What does that say to you?"

"That you aren't looking for anything." You let out a sigh of frustration and shook your head, making Logan even more nervous. What was it that you needed to tell him and why did you need to say it in the back room of your place of work?

"Oh geez, I guess I'm going to have to spell it out for you, aren't I?" You chuckled nervously and Logan felt his heart pound in his chest as it all finally clicked in his head. Your hands rested on his cheeks and you looked into pretty hazel eyes.

"Logan, I'm in love with you," you said, watching his his widen, his mouth falling open as the six words set in. He just stared at you in response and you were beginning to take that as rejection.

Your arms slipped from his neck and seeing the look on your face was enough to break his heart into a million little pieces. And as he watched you make you way your way out of the back room, he could have sworn that he could see you wiping tears away from your cheeks.

You were leaving. You were leaving and he was just going to let you. You were quickly slipping through his fingers as the seconds passed and he felt sick to his stomach thinking about the possibility of losing you.

So he ran. He ran as fast as he possibly could, following you out to the parking lot where you were heading to your car that you had actually driven there for once. You stopped to pull your keys out of your purse and Logan took the chance to stand in front of you, stopping you from moving.

"Get out of my way," you commanded, but he just stood there, staring you down.

"No," he said firmly. "Not until I'm done speaking. And then you can keep hating me, but I need to get this out, okay?" He took a deep breath before speaking again. "I'm in love with you," he said. "I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've never felt this way about anyone and honestly didn't think that you reciprocated my feelings, so when you told me that you loved me, I don't know...I just panicked." He was talking a mile a minute and you honestly barely understood him, ut you got the jist.

"So please don't leave," he pleaded his hands finding your waist. "Stay, because I don't know what I'd do with myself if you left."

"You love me?"

"More than you'll ever know, doll," he replied and pulled you into a kiss, neither of you bothered by the loud sound of your keys and purse falling to ground as your arms found their way to his neck once again. "Now let's get out of here."

"But what about the whiskey," you asked against his lips and he just chuckled.

"Just put it on my tab," he replied before pulling you in for another kiss.

You stayed like that until the early morning, kissing and giggling to each other, sitting on the hood of your car to watch the sunset together then heading back to your place for some much needed sleep before talking about how you were going to move forward over coffee and breakfast.

[lovemybluebully]

It's For Science

This is just a little something I scrounged together, inspired by a post by @snugglyfluffle 😊

https://www.tumblr.com/snugglyfluffle/761535277842022400/since-logan-has-a-shorter-waist-then-wade-does-do?source=share

Damn, writer's block has been a biiiiiitch. I wrote a lot of this in the later hours of the night after my long workdays so sorry if it's nothing spectacular, or if there's any spelling/grammatical errors. 

Wade gets it into his head that maybe not all humans have the same number of rib bones. His logic being that since Logan has a shorter body then he may be an exception. Unfortunately for Logan this is far too ticklish of an experiment for him to bear.

A small bit of ticklish!deadpool at the end too. 😉

Warnings for foul language and other Deadpool-type stuff.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,234

"The skeletal system is comprised of bones that give structure to the body and work with the muscles and joints to provide movement. The human body contains 206 bones….," the certified doctor on the television explained as he gestured to a replica model human skeleton while Wade sat watching on the couch.

"207 if I'm watching Gossip Girl, hehehe. Shit, I already made that joke in the movie. Well it's still true anyhow, am I right?" Wade snorted a laugh as he turned from his position on the couch with his hand up for a high-five, but found his roommate leaned back in the couch with his eyes closed and his hands on his lap.

It had been a nice lazy afternoon for the two of them and Logan had KO'ed quite a few beers as the monotone voice of the television host was making him doze off.

"Pssht! Old man can't stay awake for five minutes," Wade waved him off as he turned back to the tv.

"The ribcage has an important job in providing protection to some of the most vital organs being the lungs and the heart. There are 12 ribs on each side, making 24 in total…"

The merc blinked in curiosity as he sat up tall and now slowly began to feel up each side of his body to count the ribs within, having to dig in pretty thoroughly to get through the muscle.

"Hmm I'm only feeling 20 here….," he rechecked to be sure, finding all the ones leading up to his collarbone.

"The 11th and 12th pair of ribs are called 'floating ribs' because unlike all the others they are not attached to the sternum but are still attached to the backbone….," the doctor went on as he pointed to two pairs of ribs on the back area of the skeleton.

Wade's hands wound around to his lower back and found the missing pairs right where the doctor said they'd be.

"Huh. What do you know, he's right. I mean, duh!" He bopped himself on the forehead, "Of course he's right. He's a fucking doctor. Hey Wolvie, you're missing some interesting stuff here."

"Mmph," Logan only grunted in response, not even hearing what Wade had actually said as he started to drift further into fully passing out.

Wade then had a thought pop into his mind as he looked over at his near-comatose friend. Logan's torso was a lot shorter than his own so he wondered if it was true that all humans had the same number of ribs. The doc hadn't specified if it was possible to have less and Wade's hyper mind needed an answer right away.

"Hmm. I suppose I could just Google it to find out for sure, but nah! I prefer to do my own field study. Plus you all need a fun little fic to read, and I know Logan won't mind if it tickles just a teensy little bit. Commence Operation How-Many-Ribs-Does-A-Wolverine-Have."

He slid over and wiggled his fingers up in the air before placing them on the bottom of Logan's ribcage, pressing in gently to feel the first two ribs as the man immediately jumped and blinked his eyes open in a groggy daze.

"Whatistha….Wade? What-heheh-What're you doin'?" He batted at Wade's hands with very little accuracy from being half-asleep, giggles escaping him as the fingers moved up to the next set of ribs.

"Well if you had stayed awake Peanut, you would have seen this educational program I've been watching about the human body. They say there are 24 ribs in a human, but I was curious if it applied to all body heights. Being that you're a little shorter than me I wanted to see if you had the same," Wade explained his current lunacy as Logan started to wake up a little more though it took him a moment to really process everything that had been said.

"Huh? The fuck are ya-eheheheehee-Ribs? Course I do, dipshihihit. Now stohahahop it," he was unsuccessful in trying to block out Wade's hands as they continued up his sides.

"I sure will. Once I have verified the facts. Though I'm pretty sure this would go a lot quicker if you would just hold still," Wade smirked big time, knowing there was absolutely no way Logan could ever stay still for something like this when his torso was so ridiculously sensitive, "Okay looks like that's number 5…..and oh, there's 6…."

"How abohohout I c-count your teeheeheeheeth after I knohohock 'em outta your fuhuhuhucking head?" Logan chuckled hard, taking a half-hearted and easily dodge-able swing with his fist towards Wade.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, muffin cakes. Come on, this is a fun game. At least smile, would ya?" Wade teased, looking down at his friend while increasing the speed that his fingers wiggled around against his sides.

The X-man's grin had lit up his normally stoic face while he made many attempts to shove Wade's arms away, but those nimble fingers were practically glued to his sides.

"Of ahahahall the stuhuhuhupid-Eeeheheheheheheh! Stahahahap, ya mohohohoron! Thehehehey're all thehehehere!" Logan was giggling uncontrollably and sinking back into the couch cushions, trying to will his body to phase through and escape but there was only so much give that he was allowed.

Truthfully after the relaxing day he'd had and the keg of beer in his belly he found that he wasn't too bothered about Wade waking him up with his dumb experiment.

"How can I be certain? Got any proof? Any reliable witnesses to corroborate your case? Hmm? Perhaps you have an x-ray of your body to show me? A scientific essay conducted by a world renowned researcher? Any of those would be acceptable."

Logan obviously could only shake his head.

"N-Nohohohohoo, buhut I can cuhuhut myself opehehehen and-ahahahahaa-you cahahahan loohoohook for yoursehehehelf!" He released one claw from his hand as Wade gasped in horror and quickly grabbed his wrist to pin it to the couch with his knee.

"Ohhh no you don't. You're crazy if you think I'm gonna allow my precious little badger to cause himself any harm. Besides my method is way less messy. Just wish I knew why you find it to be so funny," he stated, playing dumb as Logan attempted to growl through his giggles, though the intimidation factor was completely lost.

"Yohohohou f-fucking knohow why I'm lahahahahaughin', ya ihihihihidiot!" He retracted the sharp blade back into his body, trying to squirm free, "Now gehehehet outta thehehehere, ohohor ehehehelse!"

The threats were in full effect, but the claws remained sheathed.

Wade recognized that Logan was in a more light-hearted mood than normal, and he wasn't going to let it go to waste. If he had woken up with murder on his mind then Wade might have been more inclined to back off sooner. But now that he had the green light it was on!

"Or else what? Doesn't seem like you're trying too hard to stop me," he called his bluff and grinned at how the man weakly pulled at his wrists with his one free hand and was trying to curl up in defense.

He knew Logan would be fighting him a lot harder than this if he was really as disagreeable as he wanted him to think.

Actually, Wolverine had a little secret he was keeping. He would die before admitting it out loud, but there were times he found that he actually enjoyed this. Yes, enjoyed getting tickled within an inch of his life.

Definitely not at first though. And to fully grasp the situation we'll have to rewind the story just a…

"Aw nohohoo bub! Thehehey don't neeheed to hehehear all o' thahahat!"

Wade's heart skipped a beat as he gasped in excitement.

"Oh em gee! Your first fourth wall break! I'm so fucking proud of you!"

Shush, we're doing this.

Anyways Logan couldn't remember ever being tickled before so the day Wade had discovered that he was in fact quite ticklish he did everything in his power to fight him off and avoid it altogether. Wade wouldn't back off though and inevitably got him pinned down, even though it resulted in several stab wounds to his head and torso.

Having been alive for over 200 years Logan was very used to experiencing pain of some of the highest levels physically and mentally, but tickling was something very alien to him. Not surprisingly he struggled with processing the maddening, yet gentle touches.

He didn't like to show any signs of weaknesses, but being tickled completely overwhelmed his heightened senses, especially in the touch department, and it was impossible for him to not react to it. There had been feelings of anger and humiliation at how easily simple fingers were able to render him powerless, and it only got worse once he finally broke into agonized laughter.

Logan hated the feeling of not having control, especially over his own body. Once he had managed to break free, he had been extremely cross with Wade and went into one of his brooding moods for the majority of the day.

After giving him time to cool off, Wade eventually approached him to apologize, and Logan shrugged it off now that his temper had died down. Though he had been working on trying to better himself and he explained to Wade what it had made him feel and why he had reacted so strongly against it.

Wolverine being vulnerable enough to share his feelings with him was one of the only times Wade was ever completely serious and really gave his full attention. Despite getting a kick out of always annoying him Wade never wanted to cause him true stress and it made him feel like a real asshole when Logan ended up apologizing to him too.

Wade promised to never do it to him again but added that he just got carried away due to the fact that he really liked seeing Logan not only smile but laugh especially. Logan had become utterly stupefied by that confession. He thought Wade had only been trying to torment and embarrass him, which was what had really set him off.

He had then taken the next few days to reflect on that. He could definitely empathize with how good it felt to see someone you really cared about experiencing joy. Knowing that Wade's intentions were far from malicious had really put his mind at ease about it, realizing that his pride had gotten the better of him.

And the more he thought back on it it really wasn't that bad.

Which was why Wade's squawk of surprise when Logan tackled him from out of nowhere to attack his sides with tickles gave Logan the same fuzzy feeling he assumed Wade had had. Wade not only was laughing from the tickling, but from relief as well, realizing that he'd been unspokenly forgiven.

He didn't even fight it and just let Logan tickle him to his heart's content until finally the man stopped and grunted that he had hoped he'd "learned his lesson" while giving him a small smirk.

Wade was able to read between the lines and took the chance to pounce him the very next day, and despite some growling threats he received the older mutant didn't seem entirely displeased. Logan had completely let his guard down, which now enabled him to truly experience it in full.

Still, he made Wade work for it before he finally stopped holding in his laughter. The crazy merc then proceeded to make him laugh harder than he could ever remember doing in his past, and he found the brain chemical effects from that to do wonders for his mood.

The funny thing about it to Logan was that even though he was rendered helpless from tickling he realized that he was still 100% safe, and he found that to be a very comforting thought. It was a new experience for him to be in such a close proximity struggle where the end goal wasn't to try to hurt or kill him.

Sure, Wade would use tickling as a form of retaliation a lot of times, but it was all the same to Logan by now. Naturally he wasn't always in the mood for a tickle attack, but these days more often than not he didn't fight it too much and was quite content to let his roommate turn him into a squirming, wheezing wreck.

Of course, for appearances sake, Logan would still curse his head off and threaten the man's life at every turn. Up until the mischievous merc would tickle him to the point he could barely take it and turn that macho attitude into desperate pleas for mercy.

Which brings us back to our current situation.

"Dahahammit! I-I dihihihidn't ahahask for a wahahahaake up cahahahall!"

"No thanks needed! It's totally complimentary in el Casa de Wade. But don't mind me, feel free to go back to sleep. I'm just going to keep counting these ribs here until we get to the bottom of this. Ah, finally we found 7 and 8."

Wade was still acting as if this whole idea was just to count his ribs and hadn't even acknowledged that he was purposely tickling him and realizing that made Logan feel even more giddy as he let out a snort and shook his head.

"Wade c'mooon! Get ohohohoff! Ya-heehehehe-Ya know I'm ticklihihihihish, fucker!" His big-muscled arms were clamped so tightly against his sides, but there was no stopping the determined fingers crawling up his ribs.

"Whaaa? Wolverine? Ticklish? Ha! That's absurd! My guy Logan is way too mean and strong and tough to be affected by something so childish! Oh boy, and I thought I was the king of jokes around here. Now come on, stop messing around and just move your arms out of the way so I can finish this," Wade smirked, loving to tease him about his ticklishness in regard to his hard-core reputation.

"You fuhuhuhucking ahahahasshohohohole!" Logan snorted hard and now fell over to the side as he began scooting along the couch to get away.

"Heheh, where do you think you're going? Stop being so dramatic, Nancy Kerrigan. It's okay to make that joke now, right? 30 years later is fair," he shrugged at the camera, not letting up one bit as he followed along with his squirming prey, "I can feel 9 and 10 now. We're almost halfway there! Oooh! How exciting!"

"Cuhuhut it ohohohout! Heeheheheheheheh! Juhuhust drohop this stuhuhupid ideheeheeheea!"

The higher Wade went the stronger the tickling sensations felt, and Logan was pretty sure he was going to die before the last of his ribs were even reached, though in his mind it honestly wasn't the worst way for him to go.

"🎵 Ohhhh the itsy-bitsy spiders crawled up the waterspout….🎵," Wade effortlessly sing-songed with clawed fingers continuing their torturously slow progress, thoroughly scraping over every rib bone they came across, "🎵 Down came the rain….but couldn't wash the spiders out because they were having too much fun counting all these cute little ribbies. 🎵."

It always made Logan feel silly whenever Wade's teases took on a more juvenile form. He was the tenacious and deadly Wolverine and yet Wade was treating him like he was just some harmless little kid. He was never able to stop the blush from spreading across his face.

"Shuhuhuhuut uhuhuhup! Ohohor you're gohohonna haahahave another fuhuhuhuckin'-Hahahahahahehee-hohohohole t-to breheeheeheeathe outta yohohour fahahahat hehehehead!"

"Wow. We're body shaming now? I'm very sensitive about my fat head, you know. Well have you looked in the mirror lately, mister? Just walking around with those big, sexy arms and your handsomely chiseled jawline, and don't even get me started on all that sculpted beef that you're hiding in disgrace underneath this shirt. Yeah, doesn't feel so good now, does it, you absurdly attractive man? Uh huh….oh….yup, right there we got 11 and 12."

Wade was just so ridiculous sometimes, but when Logan was already caught in a laughing fit the merc's unstoppable blabbering only succeeded in making him laugh even harder. And unfortunately, he was slowly losing his will to carry on with acting tough through this tickle session.

"Fihihihiiine! I'm-heeheehehahahahaha-I'm sorrrrry! I tahahahake it bahahahaack! Just stooohohohoooop!" Logan didn't know how much more he could take of this. Actually, he did know due to having suffered under Wade's fingers for months now, and the answer was a lot.

"Why? I'm just trying to get a count here. 13……14…..It's for science. Hey look, I'm sorry……," Wade pretended to show some remorse before breaking into a huge smirk, "Sorry my wittle Wolvie-polvie is too freakin' ticklish for his own good!"

Logan's back finally met the armrest of the couch, preventing him from going any further as he leaned back over it to try to get away. Though this now had his ribcage fully stretched out as Wade stepped it up and dug his fingers in mercilessly between rib bones, making Logan positively howl in laughter.

"Ahahahahaa! Wade naahahahahahahaho! Pleheheease! Thahahahaat tickles!" He thrashed madly trying to wiggle away, but Wade had him pinned right where he wanted him as he just snickered at the situation.

"I think at this point you know that was part of my plan all along. Hehehe, but we're so close! Think of the prestige we'll get from this scientific breakthrough! Oh! I think I just found 15! Oooh! And could that be 16?! C'mon, buddy! Bear with me now!"

The upper ribs were basically in Logan's armpits that were covered with a more fleshy layer and Wade was really having to probe in there to actually feel the bones beneath.

"Not thehehehere! Noohot thehehehehehehhehehere! Haahahahaheeheeheeheehaa! Mehehehehercyyyyyy! Logan squealed helplessly with his head tilted back and showing off his elongated canine teeth; his face as red as a tomato as tears squeezed out of his tightly shut eyes.

The feral man's t-shirt had ridden up, exposing the lower half of his ripped stomach and Wade was currently in a position where it was at eye level. He smirked as he thought about how crazy Logan got whenever he would blow raspberries into his tummy, and he found the urge to do so was just too strong to resist as he took a deep breath.

"WAAAHahAHaHAhaHAHAAADE!!" Logan screamed with the first oral assault landing directly around his navel, breaking into silent laughter while wheezing desperately for air. Many more blows were delivered to his belly and ribs while the fingers continued tickling in his armpits as Logan summoned up any energy he had left and pushed with all he had in him at Wade's head and shoulders.

Eventually after being slapped and punched in the head so many times, Wade finally allowed himself to be pushed away, taking one last nibble at his hip bone.

"Geez, calm down Hugh, you over actor," he chuckled as he looked down at the man who was currently swallowing all the air he could and gingerly wiping away at tears.

"Okaaahaahay…..Fuckin' Hell……That's it…..for nohohow…..Y-You got me…..good……No more….right?"

"Weeeeeell if you would have just stayed still, we could have had this all over with. But noooooo, you just had to make me lose count," Wade sighed loudly in feigned disappointment, "Looks like I'm gonna have to start aaaallllllll over again."

With a wicked grin he began reaching out towards the still incapacitated man who was now shaking his head frantically as his hands raised in defense.

"N-No Wade. Not again. Stay back. Heehehehe-please. I can't take any more," he couldn't help giggling in anticipation as Wade hovered over him again.

"Hold still now…Don't worry Peanut, we'll get through this together. So that's 1……and 2…….and a coochie coochie coo…," Wade started again on his waist to get at his bottom ribs as Logan was already breaking into squeals.

"20?! Again?! For real?! I've counted three times already!"

Logan was hanging halfway off the couch; his hair sticking out in every direction and his cheeks slicked with tears as he coughed and tried to regain any hint of sanity he had left.

"It's……It's……fine…….Wade…..I'm sure……..they're in……there……somewhere……," he panted weakly, slowly starting to feel his energy revitalize.

"Or maybe you really do only have 20? My theory that you have fewer since you are shorter may be correct!" Wade was getting lost in his thoughts, but then at that moment a voice of reason sounded off.

"And remember, the 11th and 12th pair of ribs are referred to as 'floating ribs' and are only attached at the backbone….," the television was still on and by this point the doctor had gone back around and was summarizing everything he had just talked about.

The light bulb finally went on in Wade's head.

"Oh yeeeeah……forgot about those little buggers," Wade slowly turned to look at his friend whose eyes went wide as he scrambled to get away.

Five seconds later and Wade had Logan pinned on his stomach as his fingers wiggled into his lower back to find the missing rib pairs while Logan cackled wildly and pounded his fists with his feet uselessly kicking at the cushions.

"23…..and 24! Well would you look at that! I guess all humans are the same after all!" Wade declared happily as he finally climbed off of his roommate, signaling the end of his reign of terror, "Whaddya think, Wolvie? Aren't you so glad to have that useful little tidbit of information at your disposal?"

Logan gradually rolled over onto his back and raised an annoyed brow.

"Could've just fuckin' Googled it, bub," he growled, though a smile was still stuck on his face.

"Okay I admit waking you up may not have been the nicest way to go about it, but you know how impatient I am. And be honest, you really don't seem that upset about it," Wade grinned, reaching over to scribble fingers over his now exposed stomach while Logan snorted chuckles and tried to block him out with his knees before rolling away.

"You're lucky I didn't piss my pants, asshole. Drank a shit load of beers right before I fell asleep. I gotta piss like a fucking racehorse now," Logan stumbled to his feet and walked off to use the bathroom.

Wade grinned as he watched him walk away before turning to the audience.

"He's cute, ain't he? And I didn't hear any denial in that, did you? He doesn't know that I heard the author spill his secret earlier. It's nice to know that he actually enjoys it, even if he won't say it. I'm totally good with that."

The sound of Logan groaning in relief echoed down the hallway followed by the toilet flushing several moments later before he walked back out to join Wade on the couch.

"Did you make sure to put the seat back down? Althea won't be happy if she falls in again," he asked as Logan looked at him with a frown.

"That one was on you, shithead. I always remember to. You've lived how many years with this poor lady? I seriously don't know how she's put up with your stupid, inconsiderate ass for so long."

"Exactly the same way you do, sugar tits," Wade grinned and pinched his cheek, receiving an adamantium elbow into his side and grunting as the air was knocked out of him momentarily.

"It's a daily struggle that's for sure. But I owe ya a lot for breaking me out of my destructive cycle, so we'll call it even," Logan had softened his demeanor, knowing he truly owed Wade his gratitude as the other man noted this and took advantage of his guard being down.

"Awww there it is! Right there! I knew you loved me!" Wade squealed as he jumped onto Logan's lap and wrapped his arms around his head in the tightest of hugs.

"Gaah! Wade! Fuckin' dammit! Let go of me!" Logan struggled to pry Wade off of him until he was hit with a moment of inspiration as he latched his fingers onto Wade's unprotected sides to start tickling him with everything he had.

"Aahaahahah! Logan dohohohohooot! Thahahahat's nohohohot fahahahaaair!" Wade yelped with giggles as he quickly tried to escape, but Logan held him firmly in place.

"Fair? Okay, let's be fair. See we learned that all my ribs are there, but seems we've overlooked yours. Think it's best we check that out right away, don't you?" Logan asked with a crooked grin as Wade frantically shook his head while thrashing in his lap, "No? Well ain't that just too damn bad."

Logan dug right in with both strong hands, not even hiding the fact that his mission was to tickle the absolute shit out of his roommate.

"Okaahahahay yohohou cahahan cheheheck! Heheehhehahah! Juhuhust nohoho tihihihickling!"

"Now how do ya expect me to do that? You got an x-ray or some bullshit to show me? A fuckin' thesis paper on the matter? What? Ya don't? Well that fuckin' sucks for you. Looks like we're doing this the old-fashioned way. What number was I on? Oh yeah….1…….1…….1……1 again….."

"Cahahahahaaan't you fuhuhucking cohohount, you neahahahanderthal?!?!"

Logan smirked big time, repeatedly prodding into the same rib over and over.

"Guess not. Numbers apparently aren't my strong suit. Looks like this is gonna take alllll day then."

Wade could only laugh and squeal in response, knowing he had sealed his own doom.

[allmoshnobrain]

After a bad date leaves you with a twisted ankle, your quiet but protective roommate steps in to help.

✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, mentions of alcohol and a twisted ankle

✦ a/n: alright so this may or may be not based on my weekend lol i do love the roommate dynamics so if you guys have any suggestions or ideas for this au feel free to send me an ask! hope you enjoy the read 🖤

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Tell me how much it hurts,” he says, lightly pressing his fingers against your swollen skin.

You suck in a sharp breath, glancing down at him as he kneels in front of the couch, his fingers brushing over your ankle. He’s not being rough, you’re just in pretty bad shape right now.

“It hurts,” you say, keeping it simple, and he scoffs softly at the obvious answer. “I think it’s kinda swollen.”

“You think?” your roommate lets go of your foot, standing up and raising an eyebrow at you. “Remind me again how this happened, sweetheart.”

You blush. It’s Sunday morning, sunny, with a soft breeze coming in through the living room window. A perfect day for a walk, to get some fresh air — except you’re stuck on the couch with a twisted ankle, thanks to last night’s drinking that got a bit out of hand.

“I was out drinking with a date,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up. “But I didn’t really eat much yesterday, so I guess I… overdid it. He was walking me home, and I tripped and twisted my ankle.”

“And what did he do?” Simon asks, sitting down next to you on the couch. You let out a soft noise as he gently grabs your legs, putting them on his lap. One hand rests on your knee, his thumb lazily drawing small circles on your skin.

“He wanted to call an ambulance, but I thought that was a bit much. So I just had him help me up, and we walked back. We weren’t far anyway.”

“You had to walk with a twisted ankle,” he said in that flat tone that made it obvious he was annoyed — not with you, but probably with your date. “Why didn’t he just carry you?”

“I don’t think he could… I’m too heavy,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“I can carry you just fine,” he grumbles. “What are you doing going out with guys who can’t even carry you?”

You don’t respond, just lean your head back against the couch and close your eyes. You can feel Simon’s hand still on your knee — his skin is rough but warm. He’d come home from whatever he’d been up to on Saturday night, only to find you passed out on the couch with a very obviously swollen and painful ankle.

Simon was a quiet, reserved roommate, and he wasn’t really around much, but that didn’t mean you two hadn’t built your own kind of intimacy over the last two years of living together. So, when he saw you were hurt, he took it upon himself to check things out. You’d told him it was just a twisted ankle and a moral hangover. Nothing too serious. But clearly, he didn’t think it was as "nothing" as you made it sound.

“I’m sure he’s never gonna want to see me again,” you mumble, eyes still closed. Simon’s thumb stops moving on your skin, a clear sign he heard you.

“Who?” he asks. You open your eyes to find him staring right at you, eyes serious and focused.

“My date.”

“Good,” Simon mutters. “He couldn’t even take care of you after you got hurt. Should’ve carried you upstairs, helped you clean up.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” you say, a little defensive, which makes him chuckle.

“Yeah? Then why are you still stuck on this couch instead of upstairs getting a shower and some proper rest?” He smirks, and you just roll your eyes without answering.

“Where would you even be without me?” he sighs, standing up. You let out a small, surprised noise as he lifts you effortlessly into his arms, holding you close. You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle, the sudden move and how close he is making your heart race. “You’re lucky you’ve got me, princess.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, but you can’t help closing your eyes and letting out a small, relieved sigh.

Because yeah, you know you are.

[terukotime]

allow me to be super delulu for a second

if either Eden or Ace are the actual killer, that would mean one of them would be saying their secret quotes in the next coming episodes. but...do we really feel like the situation warrants them saying what their quotes are?

Ace's is: "I don't know what to do with myself anymore."

Eden's is: "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try."

Ace's feels a little strange to say in the trial. we're very close to unearthing the real culprit, and if Ace really is the killer, when would he say that? immediately upon being found out? the quote itself has their air of melancholy and defeatism, and even at his lowest, we know Ace isn't someone to concede or go down without a fight. and if he knows he's about to die, what's the point in saying "I don't know what to do with myself anymore" when he's not even going go be alive in the next few moments? He WON'T be doing anything with himself anymore, he'll be dead.

Eden's, while not as strange of a thing to say as Ace, is also kind of peculiar. when would she say it? while she's admitting to the murder? if Eden did it, sure, it's believable that she'd feel some regret, but the setup to her being the killer feels very odd now that we've gone through this big emotional moment between her and Teruko. honestly, after all that, if Eden really is the killer, i'd be more inclined to believe she WOULDN'T regret killing Arei. it'd seem like her crying and pleading was all just emotional manipulation. it also seems strange to me that Eden would have already had it in mind to kill Arei when she and Teruko found Ace, and took the opportunity to steal the tape to carry it out. i could definitely be wrong, and please correct me if i am, but i think the attempted murder was the same day as what happened with Eden and Arturo? honestly, even if it wasn't, it just feels weird to me that Eden would find some way to disguise her handwriting, set up a murder method even more elaborate than Nico's original version, and then do the whole trial pleading and sobbing for people to believe she didn't kill her and actually have regretted her actions. that shit is so premeditated that everything Eden has done thus far feels like immense emotional manipulation. while that could still be possible...it's not really that satisfying, i'd say. who knows, maybe i'm in severe denial, but i just think this characterization of Eden would be really weird. it would feel less like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked turned out to be awful", and more like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked has made a 180° in their personality without any foreshadowing of having a darker side to them".

and i'm just still really hung up on Hu. her secret quote, "I want to pay for what I've done. But even then, I still want to live." makes total sense in the context of this trial, especially after her secret reveal. and while it's pretty unlikely she took the tape from the gym, there's no guarantee that the person who took the tape at the time HAS to be the murderer. i'm just still hung up on the fact that it feels like there needs to be one last, big twist before the true killer is revealed. a moment where Teruko comes to her realization and the culprit is selected before she makes any actual accusation against them. we already knew Eden and Ace would be the ones Teruko was going to interrogate in the selection because of her explanation. just given how drdt has been written thus far, i feel like they wouldn't hand the potential answer to us like that so easily. like we wouldn't get to the point of selecting the culprit with the story already telling us it can only be one of two suspects.

it's entirely possible that i'm just coping and am refusing to accept that one of my favorite characters is actually the culprit. or that drdt could have a trial that isn't greatly written. it's totally fine if i'm wrong and Eden or Ace really is the killer, i definitely won't enjoy it much but it's not my story, nor would it completely make me drop drdt.

i honestly just needed to rant LMAO. this episode left me with a LOT of feelings.

[on-the-clear-blue]

The idea warms are hitting extremely hard today, so outside of my usual DPxDC I give you, Spider-Man in Gotham...Not MCU Peter edition!

Give me a Peter Parker that is 18 going on onto 19, he has been Spider-Man for like, 5 almost 6 years, getting his bite very early, and dealing with all the things that happen to him younger.

And give me a Year One Batman. Who is still trying to figure out what the hell he is doing, and toting along a 9 year old Robin

Peter, falling out of a portal, and doing his standard check of surroundings, spotting Batman staring at him in clunky armor and a brightly colored child: Waves slowly

Bruce, who heard some freaky shit was happening with a cult near by and went to investigate: blinking at the blue and red being that got summoned

Dickie, who is trying (and failing) to do the Bat glare: still waves back.

And like, just the idea of this 19 year old Spider-Man taking a much older vigilante under his wing, teaching him the ins and outs of it all.

Like..

Bruce, Storming through a bag guys base gets suddenly pulled back by a web to his cape.

Peter, giving him a "bitch you dumb" look under his mask: Traps! LOOK FOR TRAPS?? AND LOOK UP? PEOPLE HID THINGS UP?

Bonus, Spider-Man bending himself into a human pretzels and Dick "I have no bones" Grayson is gleefully testing to see if he could do it too.

Jump cut, years later, Peter beats emotional intelligence into Bruce with Dick.

All the Bat kids grow up with Uncle Peter, (either Peter can't get back or has been told specifically that he can't by a higher being or something) and like...

Peter is the only one that catches Tiny Tim following them during patrol, he shows him all the places to get the best angles, even poses a few times for him.

Either is there when Jason dies and saves him, or is there mourning with Bruce

(Gotham lives in fear of the memory, Batman at his most brutal and Black Suit Spider-Man)

Teaches Jason how to control his pit rage after he comes back, what is Spider-Man if not control?

Stephanie is his bestie in puns and white girl music tastes.

Tim finds a partner in constantly staying up far to late as well as someone who likes to invent,( because I hc that Peter has pretty much worked with every scientist in New York, cus like since this is a blend of canons, he has worked with the Lizard, Doc Oct, Reed Richards, the only one he said no to an internship was Stark)

Duke gets a meta mentor that can help him with his powers, Spidey has been on more than one team with someone that had some form of light powers.

Plus I think Spider-man is Gothams daytime hero before Signal joins him, they are the daytime duo

Cass is his favorite (don't tell anyone because they already know) she can see him and he can see her in a spider sense, they do the point meme whenever they sense each other.

Little stabby Damian finds out that this person with his father has been trained by many an assassin (Wade, Daredevil, Natasha, Shield in general)

And Wade...Deadpool pops up occasionally, even he doesn't understand why or how lBruce gets a strange feeling he should punch the Flash in the face the next time he sees him)

Bruce having to deal with Deadpool is terrible for him and I sadly love it.

(Also on the point of Black suit spidey in Gotham...ESPECIALLY after Jason is murdered? Oh Peter is killing the Joker, or his arm privileges forfeit. I feel like Peter would try not to kill him but wouldn't try too hard.)

Spider-man being a founding members of the Justice League, them having to deal with Peter crawling on the ceiling, and scuttering through air vents!

Peter making Parker Industries, pointing inventions from other heros/villains from his world, he isn't above pettiness, and that's how the DC world gets some of Reed Richard's old designs he gave to Peter "Because they are practically useless" they arnt they save millions of lives. Not to mention Arc Reactors, Peter grinned the whole time claiming it was his idea.

Hope you enjoy my ADHD rambling brought to you be sleep deprivation

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you’re in the hive, the other bees assume you’re supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Chapter 8: One Could Get Used to This

Wordcount: 1.5K

~~~~

No-one comes to drag Virgil out of bed. He wakes on his own the next morning and for a few moments contemplates getting out of bed, but then he rolls over and goes back to sleep. It’s his day off, he doesn’t have any plans, and he is cozy.

He wakes again around noon, and wanders downstairs. There’s no-one in the sitting room, but he finds Patton in the dining room, curled up in the armchair with a book.

“Good morning!” Patton greets cheerfully. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Virgil says. “You?”

Patton’s eyes crinkle up in a pleased smile. “I did, yes, thank you,” he says. 

Virgil fidgets, just a little, and he glances back toward the door. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Hm,” Patton says thoughtfully, tapping the book against his chin. “Logan’s in his office, and last I saw him, Roman was still asleep, poor dear.” He chuckles. “You two sure were up real late last night. And Remus and Janus aren’t here right now, but they were going to come to dinner, so they should be arriving in a few hours.” He pauses, thinking. “I don’t think anyone else was planning to be here today, but I might have forgotten something, or they might’ve forgotten to mention it. That happens sometimes.”

“Must make meal planning difficult,” Virgil says.

“It can,” Patton agrees. “But I like to make sure we have plenty of leftovers anyway, so a surprise guest or two isn’t very hard to accommodate.” He smiles gently at Virgil. “Are you hungry? Would you like some breakfast?”

“If you’re offering,” Virgil says, because they have been incredibly hospitable to him so far, but he doesn’t want to presume anything.

“Oh of course,” Patton says, setting his book down. “I hate to leave anyone hungry when there’s food in the house. What would you like? Are you in the mood for a breakfast breakfast, or something more lunchy?”

Virgil hesitates. “I don’t want to make you cook something just for me,” he says.

“Oh, it’s no trouble!” Patton reassures him. “I like cooking. But we do have leftovers in the fridge if you would like something quicker.”

Virgil nods a little. “What are my options?”

“Well, we’ve still got plenty of what we had last night, of course,” Patton says consideringly, getting up and heading towards the kitchen. Virgil follows. “And I made a fresh batch of boiled eggs this morning.” He opens the fridge and peers inside, then waves Virgil over. “Take a look, anything look appetizing?”

Virgil joins Patton in front of the fridge and looks inside. ‘Plenty of leftovers’ may have been an understatement. The fridge is quite full, mostly of containers. There’s no way Virgil can possibly see all the options without taking most of the contents out to see what’s behind them, and he is not about to do that.

Trying to be quick, Virgil scans the food visible through the sides of the containers. He sees white rice, mixed vegetables, something brown that’s probably gravy, mashed potatoes, a couple drumsticks… 

He knows, reasonably, that everything in this fridge is probably very good. He is also sure that if he was sat down and served any of these choices, he would eat it without complaint and be pleased with it. But just now, looking at the leftover containers, his stomach and taste buds rebel, and nothing looks appealing. 

“I don’t know,” Virgil says. It’s not that he isn’t hungry. His stomach is very helpfully informing him that it is currently empty. It is just also telling him, simultaneously, that there isn’t a single food in the entire world that will satisfy, and unfortunately it has annexed his tongue to its side. His brain, meanwhile, is yelling that he’s taking too long to decide, and he needs to hurry up and pick something before Patton gets upset at him for letting all the cold out of the fridge.

Patton makes a sympathetic sound. “Too many options to choose between?” he says softly. “Would you like me to prepare you a plate?”

Virgil’s very bones go limp. “Yes please,” he says weakly, glad to have the decision taken out of his hands.

Patton rests his hand gently on Virgil’s arm. “Why don’t you go wait in the comfy chair, and I’ll bring you some food in a minute,” he suggests gently.

“Okay,” Virgil says, and goes. Just as he settles, Patton appears in the doorway again with an empty plate in his hands.

“You don’t have any dietary restrictions, do you?” he asks. “I know it’s a bit late to be asking, but…”

“No, I’ll eat anything,” Virgil says, fondness rising in his chest. “Thanks for checking.”

“You’re welcome,” Patton says, and goes back into the kitchen. He returns a few minutes later, the plate now laden with a large slice of lasagna. “Do you want to come eat at the table, or over there?” he asks.

“Table, definitely,” Virgil says, moving. Much less risk of spilling red tomato sauce on their furniture that way, plus he’d rather not try to balance a hot plate on his lap right now. He sits, and Patton places the plate in front of him. Virgil’s eyes go wide. In addition to the lasagna, there’s a slice of home-baked bread with butter and jam, and a small heap of peas and corn. “Just how big do you think my appetite is?”

Patton chuckles. “Sorry,” he says. “Force of habit. Roman would clean that plate and then ask for seconds, especially after sleeping through breakfast.”

“I can believe it,” Virgil says with a laugh.

Patton pats his shoulder, then moves away. “If it’s too much, we can put some of it back,” he says as he reclaims the armchair. “You don’t have to eat all of it.”

He’s certainly going to give it his best go, Virgil’s stomach informs him seriously. His tongue agrees.

Virgil starts with a large bite of bread. It’s no longer fresh-baked, but Patton had re-warmed it. Toasted, maybe? There’s a bit of crunch to it, though it’s still pleasantly soft, not hard as a rock like most toast.

Roman makes an appearance when Virgil’s about halfway through his meal, wearing only a white tank top and a pair of red shorts. Virgil isn’t sure if they’re loose boxer shorts or thin actual shorts, but he’s not about to stare at Roman’s crotch and/or ass long enough to figure it out, and he’s certainly not about to ask.

Probably they’re actual shorts. Roman has so far struck him as having somewhat more decorum than Remus, and probably wouldn’t walk around in just his underwear with a random person in his house.

Probably.

“Ooh, that looks delicious, I want some of that, is there more?” Roman says in greeting, completely oblivious to Virgil’s inner musings.

“There’s one piece of lasagna left, and plenty of the rest,” Patton tells him, and Roman strides into the kitchen.

He returns after a few minutes with a lunch identical to Virgil’s, except that the heap of vegetables is taller, and he has a second, already half-eaten slice of bread in his hand. Also his jam is a different color. Roman plonks himself down in the chair diagonally adjacent to Virgil and grins at him. “Good morning,” he says cheerfully. “I see you did not flee into the night like Cinderella.”

“If I was going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, it would have happened well before Patton came to tell us to go to bed,” Virgil points out.

“True,” Roman agrees. He turns and points his fork at Patton. “Patty Cake, if he ever turns into a pumpkin, don’t bake him into a pie,” he says.

Patton laughs. “How many times must I promise not to eat him?” he asks.

“Once more, it seems,” Virgil says. “For what it’s worth, I believed you the first time.”

Patton’s eyes twinkle. “I appreciate that.”

“Did you sleep well?” Roman asks Virgil. Virgil nods. As if he could have slept poorly, in that bed. And it was certainly nice to get to sleep in late. “Good, good. After breakfast, do you wanna watch more tv?”

Virgil laughs. “You’re insatiable,” he says.

“We left off on a cliffhanger!” Roman defends. “And I, for one, was thoroughly enjoying myself up until the point at which we were reminded of the cruel passage of time and the physical needs of our frail human bodies.”

“I was having fun too,” Virgil agrees. And, well, he doesn’t have any better plans for his afternoon off. It’ll be fun. He’ll just have to remember to actually bike home before it gets dark again.

“Excellent!” Roman says, clearly taking that as a yes, and tucks into his meal with gusto.

~~~~

Chapter 9: Come for the Bike, Stay for the Game Night - WIP

may have a brief break in my regularly scheduled chapter posting, as I've caught up to myself and am still writing chapter 9. So, we'll see if it's ready next week, but likely not.

[googleitlol]

Two questions! Well, one’s more like a prompt/scenario, but I’m still saying it!

Do you have any plans on getting back to your “The Memory of You” fanfic in the future? Because I’m a certified Macaque wimp (right there with Wukong) and I’m dying to know everything that happened between him and Lian!😭

And second:

I just got myself Black Myth Wukong brainrot and I randomly thought of a situation where Dove would wake up from a nightmare about Wukong’s death, and she instinctively places a hand over the Destined One’s heart to hear it beating because of his resemblance and everything. And the Destined One just helps hold her hand to his chest and resting his own hand over hers until she calms down🥲💘💞

1) Omg tbh I didn't realise ppl were still reading that one! I'm focusing on PoM rn so I don't think I'll be getting to it anytime soon unfortunately. I do wanna continue it tho, and rewrite some stuff too! My google doc is so big for TMoY that if you wanted, I could totally answer some asks about it. Since I'm focusing on Dove and Wukong rn, I wouldn't mind sharing some secrets about Lian and Macaque's past (I will yap so much abt them, I love Lian she's my sweetheart).

I also took a break from writing that fic because, uhhhhh… I had only seen part of season 4 when I started writing the backstory for Lian, did some research into chinese mythology and legends I could pull from… then after posting a bunch of chapters, I watched the rest and realised I accidentally made her backstory/creation extremely similar to someone else (if you're caught up on the show, you'll know who I'm talking about). They both involve, uh… similar people?? So I got spooked and decided to wait a bit to see if that character's backstory would be like what I'd written for Lian and… it's starts out very similar 💀

But honestly, I think I'm gonna keep it the same cuz I love Lian, and I love the story I've made for her and Macaque. So if you've got any questions abt them, I'd be happy to answer until I shift my focus back onto TMoY.

2) Oh, and… my god. I love this idea of yours. That dream. Hoo boy, that dream. I love it when people understand the sort of angst I wanna put Dove under. Running to her love, knowing what's about to happen but too far to stop it. Maybe if he saw her, if he knew she was coming, maybe he'd still be there. But no matter how much her throat scratches as she screams, no sound is made. No matter how fast she runs, how far she pushes herself, nothing changes.

The Destined One frowns, he's seen her like this on so many nights. There's something that's plaguing her… he just doesn't know what. She shuts him down at any and all moments he has to inquire about her night-terrors. Still, he's found a subtle way to help in the best way he can. After one night where she reached out for him and he let her hand press against his chest, he noticed how she calmed a bit.

That becomes their nightly ritual. Whenever he notices how she starts to mumble in her sleep, shout and cry, he'll cuddle up next to her and hold her in his arms. He'll keep her head pressed against his chest so she can hear his heart– that always calms her down. As long as she has something, her hand or even an ear pressed to his heart, she'll calm down. Maybe the first few nights he started doing this, she'd cuddle up to him a bit. He'd be awkward about it at first, but eventually grow used to it. After a while, he'd find that he actually really enjoys spending those nights with Dove in his arms.

[neocrias]

Talk fast, romance!

synopsis: you and minghao know that your one-night heated romance won't last, but you're both okay with that. at least for a while.

pairing: minghao x gn reader

wc: 3,7 k

genre/aus: fluff; suggestive

warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, slightly suggestive, cursing (reader swears a lot), slightly based on the song "talk fast" by 5sos

— C'mon, this is boring, you can admit it. — The boy you just met whispers, a fainting smile in his plump lips - those which you've been staring at for the last half an hour, at least that was harsh to admit. The party was, indeed, boring, and the guy in front of you has been the only amusement you've had this night so far.

— I'm not saying it's not! I know it is. — You surrender, letting out an embarrassed laugh. — I'm just not sure I want to run away with... someone.

— With a stranger, you mean. — He implies, raising one of his eyebrows. You feel your cheeks heating, and you're glad about the very dim lights of the house you too are in, or else he'd see your messy state towards him. — I know it's weird, sorry, I shouldn't have asked.

— No! It's not that, it's just... — You start, wanting to explain yourself. You take a deep breath and stare at the dark pair of eyes in front of you. He's been so reliable the whole night, ever since he approached you for the first time when he saw you standing there, completely dislocated.

"I think my friends lowkey hate me", he said, scooching closer to you. "They just left me in the most dull party in the world."

It didn't seem like he was talking to you specifically, but more like a general affirmation out of despair. Nevertheless, you laughed at his situation, making him stare at you.

"Same."

"I'm Minghao." he presented himself, smiling at you, probably happy for the response.

"Hi, Minghao. So... you also made bad decisions tonight?"

"You have no idea."

Since this, you've talked about numerous topics, all diverse and different from the other. It was impressive: you two just clicked. It was as if something sparked between the two bored and self-sufficient souls of that party, and you started having more fun than you've had in like, weeks.

And now, he was kind of suggesting that you two make another bad decision that night: leave. Although you felt like Minghao could not be a bad person at all, you still had an uncertainty about this. What if...?

— It's just that... I don't usually, you know. — You try yet again to explain, feeling a wave of embarrassment rush through you. Thank God you had some drinks earlier that evening in the hope of enjoying this lame-ass party, because now they could help bring you courage to say the words: — I don't usually sleep with guys like that. In the same night.

I mean, you kind of wanted that. Maybe pass through it for the first time. Minghao made you feel it: he was just so interesting and attractive. You didn't feel ready yet, though, and your lack of one-night stand experiences made you nervous enough to overthink that. At least for now.

— Oh... — He opened his mouth, searching for words. — I was thinking of maybe getting some drinks or eating something...like, when I asked.

Then you wanted to dunk your head in the nearest trash can - but even that you couldn't do, since a random guy just threw up in the one next to you. He wasn't asking you for that, silly. How could you even think about it?

— I-I'm sorry, I thought-

— It's fine. — He shrugs, trying his best not to make the conversation even weirder. — I'm kind of flattered that you considered me for that, and don't get me wrong, you're totally my type, I just wasn't thinking of rushing things like that for now.

You laugh nervously, itching the back of your hand a little. Well, at least you know you're totally his type now. Points for me!

— I guess I ruined the conversation, right? — You joke, trying to ease things.

— You know how you could fix it? By letting me take you to this nice food stand I know. — Minghao offers once more.

You didn't know it yet, but he was completely mesmerized by you. Never in his life he felt this instant chemistry with someone else, and he hoped entirely that you felt at least a little like that too, so that you both could just drop that horrendous party that Seungcheol insisted on him going to and hit the road to anywhere you could keep your witty conversation.

You were quick, smart and laughed at his jokes. He had to spend more time with you - in an actually habitable place - even if it was just for the rest of the night. Or he knew he'd regret it forever.

— Yeah, let's just go.

— You can bring a friend if you prefer...wait, really!? — Minghao interrupts himself at your acceptance, smiling widely.

— Sure. I'm hungry and this party sucks, I mean, who made this playlist?

— Thank God. — He rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, starting to lead you out of there. — And it was Hoshi, by the way.

— Who?

— My friend is in charge of DJing. He's just never done it before. — Minghao flashes you a last smile before turning his back to you, pulling you through the immensity of people glued together. You throw out a little laugh and let yourself be pulled away to what could be either the best night of your life or something you'd regret immensely.

The feeling of Minghao's hand in yours makes your body shriek in euphoria. The heat of the place, combined with the heat of the contact made you feel secure. Yeah, it's definitely going to be the first alternative.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

— I swear it was right here. — Minghao emphasizes, pointing at the ground next to him. You smile, a bit shy. After so much swearing, you knew he wasn't lying, but it was still a little odd that the first place he wanted to take you to was a totally empty street. — Man, they serve the best tteokbokki in town, I can't believe they're not here tonight out of all nights.

— It's fine, we could go somewhere else.

— I'm so sorry about that. — He shrugs, defeated. — If you want to just go home, I understand-

The boy is interrupted by some loud laughter followed by other big laughter and people's sounds. He carefully moves to glance behind, and your attention goes to the unlit alley adjacent to the street you both were at. Minghao raises an eyebrow, smiling at you and running to grab your hand once again that night.

He pulls you through the alley and you take a deep breath, fully trusting the guy leading you.

You pass through the dark small street only to be greeted with countless colorful lights. A whole avenue completely filled with food trucks and food stands, people all over the place, laughing, eating, and having fun. The smokes coming out of barbecue stands and fires lit through the estabilishments heat the cold of the evening and you feel almost overwhelmed when Minghao turns to you, smiling proudly.

— I told you so.

Your mouth opens completely, half by shock and half because you were really starving. All the different smells, the sights of food, the neon lights that surrounded the buildings around you and the colorful tents full of people were a blast to your senses, and seeing Minghao all smiley was definitely a plus - he looked so cute.

You shake your own thoughts, trying to be rational for the first time in the night. It’s fine, this was an adventure with a pretty guy - but it won’t last forever. It’s likely that the both of you don’t ever get to see or talk to each other again after this night, so keeping your hopes on the low is the intelligent decision to make now. After all, this is what relationships are now - how would you know that Minghao actually wanted more from you than just a nice evening? He probably wouldn’t, anyways.

“That’s okay”, you think, letting him guide you through the stands as you barely have time to contemplate the vision passing right behind you, “I’ll take what I can get from this.”

The boy stops all of a sudden, causing you to almost bump into him. Minghao closes his eyes as he absorbs the familiar smell of his favorite street-food and you can swear his skin glows more than it seemed like at the party - or maybe that’s just an effect of the iridescent street. 

— We’re here. — He affirms, smiling. You smile back, looking at the small orange tent with a metal small truck underneath. An elderly lady hummed silently as she flipped the sticks of tteokbokki on the spicy sauce of her improvised kitchen. The smell was, indeed, amazing, and the vapor coming out of the fire she had lit made your face heat up a little bit as you approached the stand.

Minghao made the order for you, adding some beverages and other couple snacks. Both you and him decided to skip the alcohol, since the drinks you’ve had at the party were already sinking in, and being drunk in the middle of the street wasn’t exactly what you wished for.

And down deep, you hoped that Minghao skipped the alcohol for the sole reason of remembering the night. And remembering you. But you tried not to feed these ideas.

— Shit. — You distractedly whimper as the rice dough fills your mouth, completely steaming and completely spicy. Minghao widens his eyes, pouting a little in your direction as he helps you blow the stick once more, in hopes of making it colder and edible. After you can finally cool off your mouth, you let out some laughter, being followed by the boy in front of you.

— Hey, be careful. — He warns, half kind and half teasing. You feel the pit of your stomach bubbling with something, but you try to believe it was just the hot food entering your systems. — So, what do you think? — Minghao points at the place surrounding you, and you almost sigh in contemplation.

— So much better than that damn party. — It’s all you can say, receiving a loud and gorgeous laugh from him. — And the food is great, too.

— I knew you’d like it. — He smiles tenderly. — Everyone does.

You hum in response, nodding as you take another bite from the stick. Minghao watches you intently, somewhat mesmerized that he had the guts to ask you out so suddenly. He wasn’t used to being a rushed or impatient person. He felt a little weird, but in a nice way he couldn’t really explain.

— Twenty-one question game. — He suggests before he can even stop himself. Your shy smile reveals you liked his idea, and Minghao shifts in the small bench of the tent to take a better look at you. — Favorite color?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

— Your oldest memory? — Minghao asks, strolling casually next to you through the familiar alley you’ve passed before. After some more eating and drinking, such as countless games and questions that turned infinite - since none of you were tired of hearing each other - you decided to head somewhere else. Where? You still had no idea. 

— Well…I remember my old house’s garden very vividly. And butterflies I guess. — You let yourself be surrounded by the darkness of the narrow street, distancing yourself from the noises and lights of the food market. The nocturne air turns colder as you both walk, and you glance at the full moon above you. 

— Gosh, you’re so cute. — Minghao giggled, amused. You try to repress a smile, but fail.

— What’s your oldest memory? — You change the topic of the conversation, turning to look at Minghao abruptly. Not expecting your agility, Minghao is caught by surprise when you bump into his chest, tripping and almost falling to the ground. He is quick to hold onto one of your wrists, pulling you closer by the waist. 

He barely reacts to your proximity, still smiling fondly until he realizes the dubious smile you had in your lips as you analyzed his face so closely. Minghao’s smile disappears little by little, focusing too much on your lips and in the fresh air surrounding you both in the empty alley as your breaths mixed slowly. 

You lift your chin slightly to deviate your look from his lips to his eyes, but Minghao is faster and leans on, brushing your lips softly as he waits for confirmation. You close the space between you, taking his lips on yours fully and eagerly as his grip on your wrist turns lighter, releasing your hand to grab your face. His other hand stops at your waist, caressing the spot as he pulls you even closer, feeling your bodies completely glued together.

Your lips move in sync and you could swear at this moment you’ve never felt this much chemistry with anyone else - it’s as if a new world revealed itself to you through Minghao’s grasp on you. You pull some strands of his hair as your hands run through his neck, making him shudder. Without noticing it, he softly led you until your back met one of the walls of the alley. The pressure against you helped you regain forces, deepening the kiss and earning a groan from Minghao.

Your hands were quick, and so were your heartbeats. Minghao’s hand that relaxed at your waist fell silently to your ass, grabbing it slowly while waiting for a refusal or a complaint that didn’t come. At this point, he could genuinely take you home. You’d say yes. Fuck if you weren’t into one-night stands. Fuck everything. You were enjoying this night much more than you could’ve ever imagined and you didn’t want it to end.

A loud metallic noise echoed right next to you both, startling you. Minghao suddenly distanced himself to take a look at whoever had interrupted you and you almost cursed at the cold that you felt without him. Your eyes widened, feeling the embarrassment for being caught in such a delicate situation.

That was when your vision settled on a small, furry thing, clumsy between the trash cans. 

— Fuck. — You bring your hand to your chest, feeling your blood flowing through every vein. — It’s a kitten. Cute. — You try to shake away the awkwardness as Minghao turns back at you to release the most adorable laugh you’ve ever heard coming through someone’s lips. The lips you’ve just kissed.

Suddenly, your heart skips a beat. How could he be so endearing? And you didn’t even know him!

— My grandmother knitting. — He blurts out, smiling at you as he backs away to give you some space. — The oldest memory, I mean.

— Perfect. — You smile in amusement, straightening up and distancing yourself from the wall behind you. 

— Shall we go? — He suggests opening the path for you. 

— Wait, I know a place close to here! — You exclaimed, excited. Minghao just nodded as you took the lead this time. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

— I don’t think this is going to work… — Minghao pronounces it rationally, but a bit of apprehension escapes from his mouth, making you giggle. You turn to look at him, clumsily walking down through the rocks of the small hill. You extend one of your hands, offering help, but Minghao does not accept it, promising he’s fine. 

You finish your way down, getting to your secret spot as the boy behind you follows. The small pavement below the bridge was perfect to watch the late night city lights reflected through the thin river that passed right through it. With a sigh, Minghao stops by your side, careful not to fall into the water as he adapts.

— That’s definitely…a new perspective. — He comments, approving your location. — I’m usually on top of it. — He points at the bridge above, perfectly shielding you both in its arched form. 

He could see the charm in the place. You could basically see all the city from below, but no one could see you. It felt comfortable. It also felt secretive, and that helped the tingling sensation he kept on feeling all the time he looked at you - it’s almost as if you two were the only people in the world on that night.  

You breathe in the humid air, feeling it through your lungs as you enjoy the silence with Minghao. None of you said a word, but you also didn’t feel like you needed to. It was comfortable to be like this.

— I’ve never done anything like this before. — You suddenly confess, feeling easy next to the boy you had just met. The phrase was suspended into the air, but Minghao got it perfectly.

— Me neither. — He agreed, resolute. 

And with that, both of you understood how special that night was. That sank into your heart, and you felt a deep urge for it not to end - which was impossible, considering the fast pace with which the hours went by. You felt a shiver through your spine, and caressed your own arms for heat. Minghao was fast to remove his own jacket and carefully put it around your shoulders, letting his hands rest in there for a few seconds. You glanced at him from up close, and he softly touched your chin, lifting it tenderly. He closed his eyes, feeling your scent and resting your foreheads together for a while. You also closed your eyes, embracing the feeling of the night - “if this is bound to end soon, I might as well live it fully”. You were the first one to initiate the kiss. 

Differently from earlier, this kiss was truer, more calm and experienced than rushed and passionate. Your lips looked for each other as if they’ve been familiar for a whole lifetime. Jesus, how could you feel like this over a guy you met hours ago?

— Can we go to my place? — Minghao urged in a whisper as he broke the kiss first. You could not help but to widen your eyes at his proposition, feeling odd this time. — Trust me.

And you did. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was a different view of the city, for sure. Not that you were enjoying it that much from where you were at - after all, Minghao’s lap wasn’t exactly a tourist point, “but it could be…”

You moved in a hurry, your legs on both sides of his seated figure in the sun lounger as you pressed your bodies together once more. The air from the top of the building should be cold, but you couldn’t feel it if your life depended on it. Not with all the heat surrounding the both of you.

When Minghao invited you to his place, he made a risky move. You felt like accepting anything at that point, but his offer ended up being much more gentle - and now you were at the rooftop of his apartment, all alone, being nothing but gentle. 

Your dress was a mess of wrinkles by now, and his jacket was long gone, thrown somewhere on the dirty floor of the open place. And, once again, your lips were on his. And you didn’t want to let it go for the world.

Your hands move fast through his torso and chest, exploring it through the fabric of his t-shirt as he presses his fingers on your waist like you are going to escape at any moment. You move your hips, feeling a heat growing in your stomach at every second now, and even though you didn’t do anything yet, you feel like you could burst.

With a soft whimper, you gasp for air, ending the kiss for a few seconds as you look at Minghao’s big eyes and swollen lips. He looks like a perfect picture, but something glowing on him catches your attention. The sunlight, coming right from behind you. 

— The sun is rising! — You exclaim, excited, turning to look at the beautiful scene that unveils before your eyes, you snug next to Minghao in the sun lounger, trying to watch the mix of colors.

— I know. He does it everyday. — Minghao groans, frustrated by the lack of contact, making you laugh. You scooch even closer, leaning your head on his chest as you circle his waist with one of your arms.

You peacefully watch the sun coming up, little by little, minutes that seem like long hours. You feel Minghao’s breath above you, and his lips hover on the top of your head, leaving there a small kiss. 

That’s when you realize: the night is over, and so is the dream, and so is whatever that you and Minghao had. You could talk again, you could meet through your mutual friends, but nothing would ever be this again. No night could ever be like this one. And it was over, forever.

You feel like watering your eyes because of this could freak him out. You aren’t even sure if he felt the same about you, and you don’t want to ruin the beautiful evening you guys had because of your own internal drama. Maybe he just saw you as this random girl he made out with for the night, and that’d be fine too - but you felt a tiny bit of that magical feeling tearing apart.

— I… I have to go to work. — You mumbled, decided. Minghao stiffened below you, and you felt his grip on your waist tighten a little. 

— Oh, I see… — He whispers back, clearly affected, but still not letting you go. Minghao tried to come up with millions of rational and healthy reasons for you to stay - but none of them worked, and he couldn't just say the truth: that he really wanted you to stay. That he wanted to pass the day with you, and the next night too. That’d be crazy, desperate even, and he didn’t want to freak you out. 

So he finally gives in, loosening the grip on you, and trying not to look devastated while doing it so. Your heart sinks feeling his hand move away, but you try to hold the disappointment in your face.

“What did you think?”, you ask yourself, “that he’d ask you to stay after you throw the most irrefutable fact on his face? that he, a rational and cool guy as he is, would ask you to skip work and stay with him?”

— I’m sorry, but… — Minghao starts, clumsily, as you tidy your clothes, ready to stand up. — Can’t you stay? I mean, do you really have to go? — He sounded hopeful. Sad, but careful.

Your eyes meet his and a silent plea fills the air as your heart races once again.

— Fuck, no. — You sigh, giving in. — I don’t.

Your smiles widen, and the morning breeze swifts gently as you feel a different type of feeling flowing. 

Work can wait for a while.

[live-laugh-legolas]

How tidy is the fellowship?

Like with cleaning, are they good at keeping a room clean and tidy or are they more of a messy person

How clean are they?

Aragorn:

-Honestly not particularly clean

-If he’s not in his own space he is very respectful and always cleans up after himself

-But is a a conscious effort

-He doesn’t instinctively go to clean his dish or put things away

Legolas:

-He can’t get dirty if he tried

-Mud just rolls off him

-But he is far from organized or clean in a room

-Listen, it’s hard to blame him, he’s a prince

-He would throw a shirt on the floor and it would b cleaned, folded, and put away by the time he came back into his room

-Forgets the “cleaning fairies” are not elsewhere

Gimli:

-From afar his space looks messy

-But really it’s just packed full of stuff; but it’s organized and always clean

-It’s not even really a conscious effort

-It’s almost like magic

-Even he doesn’t know why his space is clean because he didn’t do it but no one has been in there either

Boromir:

-Clean but disorganized

-Meaning his space always looks clean and smells at least normal

-But he doesn’t know where anything is

-Just because his stuff is put away doesn’t mean he knows where anything is stored; there is no rhyme or reason

Frodo:

-He is clean and often cleans around the house

-However he lives with Bilbo

-And pre adventure Bilbo was very clean but post adventure Bilbo is a disaster

-Frodo does what he can but the next day it will already have been undone

Sam:

-Very clean

-Impulsively cleans; his house sparkles

-Except after he cooks/bakes

-He is messy then but he cleans up after

Merry:

-His cleanliness comes and goes in phases

-He will either have a disaster of a house or it’s perfect

-Usually he will get a random burst of energy to clean and he does a deep clean of everything

-And it stays that way for a little but slowly does fallback into chaos

-It’s a cycle

Pippin:

-His house is very clean

-It looks untouched

-And that’s because it is

-He is always at someone else’s house; and no he’s not clean there btw

-But his house is always nice but that’s only because Pippin probably has forgotten where it is at this point

Gandalf:

-Does he have a house?

-I think he might be homeless

-But if he does have a house it’s very messy because he doesn’t spend much time there

-Full of books and papers

-Very similar to Bilbo

[catherinetheprincessofwales]

James Middleton: Kate, William and the dog that saved my life. The younger brother of the Princess of Wales was so depressed he came close to killing himself. Then Ella, his faithful cocker spaniel, stepped in — and even found him a wife. He tells Matt Rudd about his ‘waste of money’ education, family therapy and the help Prince William gave him. The Sunday Times, 22 Sep 2024.

I’m in a cottage on a farm with the brother of the Princess of Wales and his eyes are filling with tears. He has a cocker spaniel called Luna on his lap and I have a cocker spaniel called Inka on my lap. Both dogs are looking anxiously at their owner as he tries to tell me about the death of their mother, Ella. It could be a bit awkward when a man you’ve only just met starts getting very emotional about a dog that died nearly two years ago. Instead it’s the moment I realise James Middleton isn’t exaggerating. A dog really did save his life.

On a winter’s night in late 2017, Middleton climbed a ladder to the roof above his parents’ flat in Chelsea and contemplated suicide. Overwhelmed by feelings of failure, he had decided that the labour of living was no longer worth the effort. As his thoughts spiralled, it was only the sight of Ella, watching him carefully through the skylight, that gave him pause. How could he leave her, he wondered.

Over weeks and months Middleton had isolated himself from family and friends, ignoring increasingly desperate phone calls and texts. When his sister Pippa came to the door, he would hide in his room. When he tried to go to work, he got as far as the car park and then drove home again.

“I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t sleep, I was constantly agitated,” he says. “If I sat down I had to stand up again immediately. I couldn’t eat because I felt constantly as if I were about to throw up. What was most challenging was that I couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong. It wasn’t living, it was just existing in this awful state of anxiety.”

As his mental health crisis deepened, it was only Ella and the routine of looking after her that kept him going. “I was never alone in a time when I felt very lonely,” he says, stroking Inka’s ears. “I’m surprised there weren’t marks on the carpet from the laps I was doing, but she would sort of get in the way. It was a silent interruption, but for a fraction of a second it would stop the spiralling. “Something was taking over my mind, but not knowing what it was made it very difficult to talk about. And I didn’t feel as though I had a right to be depressed because I’ve had everything, because I am privileged.”

We are meeting today, I should mention, at Bucklebury Farm Park, a genteel sheep-petting outfit plus farm shop (excellent organic pesto) at the more desirable end of Berkshire. It is owned by his sister Pippa Matthews née Middleton and her hedgie husband, James, who is, among other things, the next laird of Glen Affric. Carole and Michael Middleton, parents to James, Pippa and Catherine, live in a manor house a stone’s throw away and Middleton’s own farm, which he bought from the parents of a prep school friend mid-pandemic, is a mile over there. It’s quite the empire.

Now married to the French financier Alizée Thevenet and father to 11-month-old Inigo, Middleton is happy to talk about his annus horribilis and his dog-assisted recovery. He does so at book-length in Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life. But it’s a good question: what does someone born into such wealth and privilege have to be depressed about?

The roots of his 2017 crisis can be found, like most roots of crises, in childhood. Born in 1987, the same year his mother set up the mail-order company Party Pieces, he followed his two older sisters to Marlborough. If the prestigious boarding school demanded academic excellence and his parents expected it, both were to be disappointed. Diagnosed with dyslexia then, and with attention deficit disorder when he finally sought help in 2017, he struggled where his sisters had excelled.

“School is about comparing yourself to others,” he says, recalling how he would avoid friends phoning to compare exam results in the summer holidays. “I didn’t feel despair when I failed because it happened so often, but I was embarrassed. I felt let down because I didn’t think that those results properly represented me.”

In the early chapters of the book he charts his struggles with expectation — his mother is frequently in tears, his father just as frequently exasperated. Even without VAT, it must have taken a large chunk of the trust fund established by Michael’s grandmother, the heiress Olive Middleton, to put his son through Marlborough. When that son had to spend a gap year retaking his A-level chemistry four times, a “humiliating record” for the school, he tells him his education was “a waste of money”.

Although today Middleton studiously avoids criticising his school or his beloved parents — he learnt valuable survival skills at Marlborough, he tells me, and “Mum and Dad just wanted the best for me” — the pressure was clearly intense. He sought escape from that pressure in nature and in dogs. “I was an outcast … alienated from my classmates,” he writes. “But dogs never judged me. Mum asked repeatedly if I wanted to bring friends home to stay at weekends. But truthfully all I wanted to do was to see Tilly.”

Tilly was the family’s golden retriever, but from an early age Middleton was desperate for his own dog. His parents, on the other hand, continued to be desperate for him to succeed. And so, after that long summer of resits, he squeaked into Edinburgh University, choosing criminology, environmental studies and geography modules because he was “pretty certain they would all be multiple choice”. They weren’t, of course, and he failed his first-year exams. More crying from Mum, more exasperation from Dad, more solace from a dog, this time his own.

“For all my reservations, I shall be eternally grateful for the time I spent in Edinburgh because it is thanks to Ben, a university friend, that I find my adored dog Ella,” he writes, introducing us to the dog that saved his life. Despite his best efforts, puppies and student life are not compatible, and when he was banned from bringing Ella to lectures he finally abandoned his studies. “I knew that if I left university I’d be responsible for that decision,” he says. “It was a big step, but I had Ella with me, as my companion and my responsibility.”

Middleton’s story is not exactly Angela’s Ashes. When he announces that he is ditching his degree to become an entrepreneur in London, he is cut off, he tells us, from the Bank of Mum and Dad, but he can still move in with his sisters at the family’s flat in Chelsea. His uncle Gary Goldsmith, he of Celebrity Big Brother 2024 notoriety, is also on hand to invest in his cake kit start-up. Nobody in this story is going to find themselves on the street.

But cynics desist! Don’t underestimate the impact of parental expectation, nor of not conforming to the traditional model of success. Middleton, anxious and increasingly socially uncomfortable, had left his friends in Edinburgh and washed up in London with his dog.

“She was my shield,” he says. “Through her I could enjoy things. I could take her for a walk and see what she was seeing. I process a lot of things in my mind and that can be overwhelming, but she helped me open my eyes and realise everything was OK.”

There are, I’m sure, many advantages to being royal adjacent, but when his sister Catherine started dating Prince William in 2004, Middleton found the level of media interest “shocking”. A young man who used his dog as an excuse to leave parties early was not equipped for the spotlight, for stepping out of the flat into a sea of flashing cameras.

“I’d never seen a royal wedding,” he says, rather sweetly. “There hadn’t been one in my lifetime. Not a big one anyway. I wasn’t aware of the scale or the global interest. I just felt privileged that my sister was asking me to do it, and it meant something to her. I wanted to make sure I did it.”

His description of the intense amount of practice he put in to the reading is like a potted version of The King’s Speech — he stutters, he stumbles, he takes lessons with the voice coach Anthony Gordon Lennox, he reads nervously and then more confidently to an audience of one dog ­— Ella, of course — in Chelsea Old Church. And then it’s the big day. “Really, the build-up to Catherine’s wedding was no different to Pippa’s or other friends’ weddings,” he says, unbelievably. Just the family, 1,900 guests, Her Majesty, an archbishop and a few world leaders. Watching the recording back today, there’s no hint of nerves — Middleton, 24 at the time, gives a bravura performance. Afterwards an American production company wrote to ask if he’d like to star in his own film — their opening offer was $1 million.

“They even ventured,” he writes wryly, “that members of my wider family might like to take part.” Middleton is not unaware of how everything is distorted by his proximity to royalty.

On the surface the next few years of Middleton’s life read like a Hello! magazine special — parties, holidays on Mustique, holidays in the Alps, a blossoming relationship with a glamorous older woman (the actress Donna Air, about whom his parents were hesitant because of the eight-year age gap), weekends at Sandringham (“Did you get my message, James?” the Queen asked the first time he visited. “Ella is welcome to stay in your room.”) But then came the night of despair in pyjamas on a Chelsea rooftop. Long sessions of cognitive behavioural therapy followed with a psychiatrist who was happy for Ella to attend too. She was, Middleton says, the only reason he kept going.

In December 2017, his mental health still fragile, he left London without telling anyone and holed up in a remote cottage in the Lake District. While his family grew frantic with worry, much to his irritation (“I’m a grown man”), he describes three days of elemental existence — fetching firewood and water, heating soup, walking Ella and her two pups. For the first time in a year he enjoyed a deep sleep and, in front of the fire after a wild swim with his dogs, he felt fleetingly happy.

“Dogs are amazing,” he says and all five of the dogs in the cottage with us — three spaniels and two beautiful golden retrievers — look delighted. “They do just sense things. Ella had been with me in every therapy session, she was always with me. I think we can learn from dogs. They’re not thinking about yesterday or tomorrow. They’re not even thinking about the next couple of hours. They’re thinking about right now. I’m here, they’re here, in the moment.”

As Middleton’s recovery continued, he says his sisters understood — they both had friends who had depression — but his parents struggled. “They were uncomfortable with the fact that I’d been labelled ‘clinically depressed’,” he writes. “To people of their generation, I can understand why it was concerning. Society was only just starting to break through the stigma.”

The solution, in the end, was to invite the family to the therapy sessions. “I felt guilty because I knew they were worried,” he says. “They felt guilty because it’s really hard if you’re not able to help the people you love the most. I was finally understanding how I felt but I got nervous trying to translate that to my family without the help of an interpreter. When they came into the sessions they had the opportunity to ask questions that I couldn’t necessarily answer.”

In the 13 years since Catherine’s wedding Middleton’s hair has receded a little, but he now has a beard for balance — a little twirl of his moustaches and he could be a not-too-distant cousin of Tsar Nicholas II. He probably is — this generation of Middletons is not the first to hang out with royalty. He looks less bright and bushy-tailed than he did in 2011, but that might be fatherhood or the weekend with friends he has just returned from in Norfolk. Or it might simply be the passing of enough eventful years.

Whatever it is, he tells me he is now happy, which, given the depths of his depression, he still finds extraordinary. His idea of what constitutes success has changed — he is no longer motivated by money but by the things in life about which he is passionate. He doesn’t even like the word entrepreneur any more.

Having stepped away from Boomf, a marshmallow delivery company (Boomf is the sound a marshmallow makes falling from a letterbox), he started James & Ella, a “premium freeze-dried raw dog food” company in 2020. He clearly finds it easier to be passionate about dogs than marshmallows. But it’s in his personal life that the change has been most dramatic.

“I remember sitting in the therapist’s chair with Ella’s head on my lap, wondering how long it was going to take to get better,” he says. “But within a year I had met my future wife. And we’re now here with an 11-month-old son, living on a farm with six dogs. If someone had told me that would happen, I’d have been annoyed. It would have just seemed so ridiculous.”

He met Thevenet, 34, at a members club in South Kensington, west London, in 2018. Ella, having actively disapproved of several previous girlfriends, broke the ice by going over to her table. They married in the south of France in 2021 (a Hello! magazine world exclusive, naturally) and Ella was a flower girl. And everyone lived happily ever after.

Except, alas, the dog. It is one of life’s cruelties that man’s best friend has a much shorter life expectancy than man. Just asking Middleton about the death of Ella, early one Saturday in January 2023, makes him emotional. Despite being given two weeks to live the previous September, she had made it through Christmas, perhaps buoyed by the thought of one final week in the Alps. Of course Middleton was with her when she took her last breath at 3am. The whole family, including William and Catherine, gathered in his parents’ garden for what sounds like an extensive memorial on the Sunday.

“Saying goodbye to Ella was not just saying goodbye to her as a dog,” Middleton says. “It was everything I’d been through with her. She had arrived just as I was starting out in my twenties and she was leaving as I’d finally figured things out in my mid-thirties. She put me on the right path and I didn’t want another day from her. I didn’t want another hour. I would have loved it but I didn’t need it. “She was sent to me before I even knew I needed her, but she chose me. She was able to transform my life better than any human could have done and then she put me in the capable hands of someone and together we’re now raising our own family.”

Eight days after Ella was buried in her favourite sheepskin, Alizée interrupted Middleton’s mourning to announce that she was pregnant. He is convinced Ella knew and that her death was a kind of passing of the torch. His son, Inigo, was born last autumn. “I hope there’s an Ella who will find Inigo, if there’s a time in his life when he needs it,” he says, as one of the golden retrievers has a long stretch.

If you’re not a dog person, you might find this cosmic canine intervention a bit much. Whether Ella was the ultimate therapist or a very effective placebo, it worked for Middleton. His sisters’ families are also fully invested in the joys of cocker spaniels — Pippa has one of Ella’s sons and Catherine, whose announcement of the end of her chemotherapy treatment comes a few days after this interview, now has one of Ella’s granddaughters — no corgis to date. Middleton himself now regards his mental health crisis as a blessing. “Although I would never wish it on anybody and I would never want to go through it again, I’m pleased it happened. It was an opportunity to recalibrate and to re-evaluate what matters.” Happiness, he says, is what matters. Happiness and lots of dogs. Meet Ella: The Dog Who Saved My Life by James Middleton (Radar £22). 

[sequinsmile-x]

I’d be so so keen to read something about Em coming out as bisexual to Aaron (aware you’ve had an ask for this I just want to stress the interest 🫶🏼)

It’s something I struggle with myself and the validation of being bisexual is something that’s very real. It would be lovely to read something like this as something that seems realistic for Em. The way you write is so beautiful and intricate and I know you’d do a wonderful job.

For anyone else reading this - you are valid whoever you are and whoever you choose to love <3

Happy Fridayyyyy!!!

Hi bestie <3

I've been asked to do this a few times, and as a bi girl myself it is very close to my heart. I wanted to make sure I did it justice so waited until it felt right and now really does feel like the time. It is also coming to the end of Bi Visibility week, so here we are!

This feels oddly personal, almost like I'm putting out some pages of a diary out there for people to read, so I hope this is as cathartic to read for those who wanted it as it was to write.

As always, let me know what you think, I'm nervous about this one because it feels important!

-x-

The Past is Never Far

She’d told herself for years that she’d never mention it. It was, after all, not the biggest secret she had kept.

Emily and Aaron walk into an ex of hers when they are out on a date, and it prompts her to tell him something she's not told him before.

Warnings: Coming out (mentions of past bad experiences doing so)

Words: 3.2k

Read over on Ao3, or the below the cut

Emily hums contentedly as she squeezes Aaron’s hand, her eyes catching his as she looks up at him and smiles, “This is nice.” 

He smiles back, relaxed and content and handsome in the fading light as he lifts her hand to kiss her knuckles, “It is,” he replies, kissing her knuckles again before he tucks their joint hands into his coat pocket to protect them from the chill in the air, “We’re near that ice cream place you like, we could get some on the way back to the car?” 

Date night was something they’d established early on in their relationship. They had so little time just the two of them so it was important to them both to have this one night every month where they could have just that. Jack would spend the night at Jessica’s, often pouting that he wanted to come with them too, something Emily and Aaron would salve with love and assurances they’d all have breakfast together the next day, and the two of them would go to one of their favourite restaurants. The nice weather was fading, summer disappearing into Autumn. It was Emily’s favourite time of year. Not because her birthday was coming up, or because Jack and Aaron’s were too, but because of the cool air and the sun on her face. The ever-present reminder in the wind about the beauty of change as the colour of the leaves started to fade to orange and gold. 

Aaron knew she loved this time of year, so he’d been easily convinced to go on a walk with her around the block before they returned to his car and back to their apartment. She’d moved in with him and Jack recently, the apartment that was once just theirs hers now too, and they were looking for a house. A place they could buy and call home, something they both wanted so desperately and had been denied for so long. 

She smiles, leaning in so her shoulder bumps against his, “It’s too cold for ice cream.” 

Aaron chuckles and kisses her temple. He stops them on the street, the hand not linked through hers on her hip as he guides her backwards so they don’t block the sidewalk. He leans in to kiss her, “You’re the one who told me it’s never too cold for ice cream,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, stamping his lips against hers once more before he removes his hand from her hip and digs through his other pocket, smiling in victory as he pulls out a pair of her gloves, “Plus, I came prepared. Your hands won’t get cold and you can still have Rocky Road - the best of both worlds.” 

She beams at him and cups his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss before she rests her forehead against his, “I love you.” 

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the corner of her mouth before he pulls back and they continue walking down the street, content and happy in each other's company. 

He buys them ice cream once they make it to the store, a double scoop of Rocky Road for her in a cone and one scoop of coffee in a tub for him. He chuckles at her as a drip of ice cream falls onto her gloves and she narrows her eyes at him, making a point of maintaining eye contact as she licks the remnants of it from the ridge of the cone, her smile wide as she watches him swallow thickly. She’s about to say something, to add to the teasing, when she hears a familiar voice behind her, one she hadn’t heard in years. 

“Emily Prentiss?” 

Her eyes go wide as she turns around, uncharacteristically caught out as she clears her throat, scrambling for something to say as she comes face to face with a piece of her past she hadn’t expected to see again, “Cat.” 

Cat chuckles as she steps forward, pulling a still shell-shocked Emily into a hug, “I thought it was you, Em,” she says, squeezing her before she steps back, “It’s been a long time. 15 years maybe?” 

“Closer to 20,” Emily laughs, the shake to it grabbing Aaron’s attention as he watches the interaction between the two women. Emily looks at him and curses herself internally for getting so flustered, “Aaron, this is Catherine Thomas, Cat, we…” she swallows thickly, her lips pressed together to keep the whole truth back, “We go way back,” she smiles as she turns to Cat, sees a spark in her eyes she hadn’t thought about in years, “Cat, this is Aaron. My boyfriend.” 

Cat smiles and holds her hand out for Aaron and he shakes it, “Lovely to meet you, Aaron.” 

“You too,” he replies, looking back and forth between the two women, curious at his girlfriend’s reaction, at the way her shoulders are slightly tight as she watches them interact. 

“Anyway,” Cat says, looking back at Emily, “My wife is just getting some ice cream. I can’t believe you still come here after all these years.” 

Emily nods, “Best ice cream in the city.” 

Cat looks up at Aaron, “Emily introduced me to this place when we first met,” she says, smiling fondly at a memory that was just theirs, “And I bring my wife and kids here now too.” 

Aaron smiles, “My son loves it here too.” 

“Cat?” 

They all turn at the sound of another woman’s voice to see her standing there with two pre-teens, both of them looking relatively irritated at being forced to spend the evening out with their parents, her expression curious as she looks at her wife. Cat nods and indicates she’ll be over in a minute before she turns back to Emily and Aaron.

“Well,” she says, “I’ve been summoned. It was good to see you, Emily. You seem well,” she hugs her again, something Emily returns, careful not to drip ice cream on her back.

“Nice to see you too, Cat,” she says, smiling as she pulls back, her gaze falling on her family behind them, “Your family is beautiful.” 

“Thank you,” Cat beams before she looks at Aaron, “Nice to meet you, Aaron.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he replies. They watch as Cat walks back to her family, gratefully taking her ice cream from her wife as she makes it to her side, saying something they can’t hear, “She seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” Emily says, feeling out of sorts from the flashback to a past life, something from so long ago it felt like it had happened to someone else. A part of her she kept secret, even from Aaron, “She is.” 

“Shall we go home?” He offers, his gaze on her as she smiles at him, a tenseness to it that she doesn’t hide well as her eyes meet his. She nods, shaking her head to rid herself of the feeling that had settled over her the last few minutes. The strange mix of nostalgia for her past when she was young and unburdened by responsibility and everything to come, and happiness for someone she’d once loved, all whilst she stood next to the person she knew was the love of her life, the man she’d spend the rest of her life with. 

“Yeah,” she says, smiling as she presses her lips together, her focus back on her ice cream as she eats some more, “Let’s go home.” 

___

She thinks about it for a couple of days.

She’d told herself for years that she’d never mention it, her relationship with Cat and the other women she’d dated over the years, because it wasn’t relevant. Since she’d come back to DC, still on uneven ground after being Lauren Reynolds and being with Ian, she’d only dated men. It wasn’t a purposeful act, not something she’d particularly tried to do, but it had happened. So it meant telling her friends, her new family, seem unimportant. 

It was, after all, not the biggest secret she was keeping from them.

She’d never even told her mother. Sure that, at best, her reaction would be to tell her it was ‘just a phase.’ At worst, she was sure her mother’s rather selective catholicism would make itself known, and she didn’t want to put herself through it. Instead, she kept the few relationships she’d had with women from her, and the one time she’d met Cat she’d introduced her as a friend, something that she hadn’t known at the time would start to unravel their relationship. The first pull at the thread that held them together, Cat’s confidence in her sexuality so much stronger than Emily’s had been at the time. Cat had been out and proud the entire time she’d known her, and, in the long run, their difference in how they approached it would never have worked. 

There were times when Emily had considered telling the team. When she’d make eyes at a woman across a bar when they were all out together, but she’d always chicken out, even with her tongue loosened and her cheeks warmed by tequila. People, mostly ex-boyfriends, had reacted poorly before. Either telling her that bi-sexual wasn’t a real thing, dismissing something she’d always known to be true about herself, or over-sexualising it, a familiar look in their eyes as they saw how her sexuality could benefit them. 

After Paris, she decided she’d simply keep it to herself. Her friend's view of her had been changed anyway, the person they thought she was dead and gone, buried in the grave that had always been empty. She couldn’t bear to do it again, to once again change what they thought they knew about her, even for something like this, so she didn’t. Even when she started dating Aaron, sweet, kind loving, Aaron who had never been anything but supportive and unflinching whenever she told him anything she hesitated.

Ever since they’d walked into Cat, she felt the need to tell him. To uncover this last final part of herself that she’d kept hidden away. He knew everything about Ian. He knew about Rome. It was time he knew about this too. 

Even though she wants to tell him, she feels nervous. A familiar kind of anxiety settles in her chest as she snuggles up on the couch with him one night, determined to not put it off any longer. Jack was in bed, safe and asleep in his room down the hall, and the TV was on, a movie they’d watched countless times before fading into the background as she sinks into her boyfriend’s side. She presses her face against his shoulder, breathing him in, breathing in the last few moments of how things were before she changed them forever. 

“I need to tell you something,” she says, her words partially muffled by his shirt before she pulls back, her brows furrowed as she corrects herself, “Actually, I don’t need to tell you. But I want to.” 

He watches her carefully for a moment before he nods, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV, ensuring she has all of his attention. He turns so he’s facing her, his knee skimming her thigh as she turns too, her focus on the top of the couch. She tugs nervously at a loose thread, a nervous habit he’s grateful distracts her from her cuticles. He thinks of the ring he has tucked away in his sock drawer, of how he pictures her twisting it around her finger when she is nervous or worried. He reaches out for her, frowning when she jumps ever so slightly when his hand lands on her knee. He squeezes gently, smiling even though she doesn’t look up at him.

“You can tell me anything, you know that,” he assures her, and she nods, her lips pressed together as she continues to pull at the thread on the couch. 

“You…” she swallows thickly, her eyes closed as she trips over the words she’d practised in her head for days, “You remember that woman we bumped into the other day, Cat?” She asks, her eyes darting up to his face as he nods, “She…she wasn’t just a friend. She was my girlfriend. We dated for almost a year when we were both in college,” she blows out a breath, her chest shuddering with it, feeling somehow lighter and heavier at the same time with the admission, “I’m Bisexual.” 

Her words hang in the air around them and she holds her breath, waiting for his reaction, unable to bring herself to look at him, worried about what she’d find. 

“Thank you for telling me,” he says, his words even and calm, his softness so jarring she looks up at him fast enough it cricks her neck, a pain she barely feels as he carries on, “And thank you for trusting me - I know that can’t have been easy.” 

She chokes on a humourless laugh, “Thats…that’s it?” 

He smiles at her, his dimples carved out in his cheeks in a way she loves, and he squeezes her knee, “Did you…want a different reaction?” 

“No,” she replies, shaking her head, choking on something she can’t name - a sound between a sob and a laugh caught in her chest, “No, not at all. I’ve just never had someone react so…well before.” 

He furrows his brow, “What do you mean, sweetheart?” 

She laughs bitterly and shakes her head, wiping away a tear she hadn’t expected until she felt it on her cheek, “I once had an ex-boyfriend ask me if it meant we could have a threesome,” she says, scrunching her nose up at the memory. She looks at Aaron and smiles at the pure horror on his face, his brow furrowing in indignation for a past version of her, “I broke up with him when it became very clear he already had a list of women who’d be ‘up for it’ at the ready.” 

He clenches his jaw, “I’m sorry he reacted like that,” he replies, “You deserved better than that. You deserve better.” 

She presses her lips together and shakes her head lovingly as more tears slip past her lash line, “Well, I have better now,” she says, playing her hand over his on her knee, linking their fingers together, “Do you have any questions?” 

“Have you dated any other women?” He asks softly, curious more than anything, and she nods, running her thumb back and forth over his hand. 

“Yeah, a couple of others but none as serious as my relationship with Cat. And I’ve had a few dates and drunken hook-ups,” she replies, her cheeks burning with embarrassment she knows she shouldn't feel. 

“Have you always known?”

She nods, “Since I was pretty young,” she smiles her lips pressed together at the memory, “Let’s just say, The Dukes of Hazzard was a bit of an awakening. Luke Duke was hot…and so was Daisy Duke.” 

He smiles and squeezes her hand, lifting it to kiss her knuckles, “What made you tell me now?” 

She blows out a slow breath, “After we walked into Cat, I realised I didn’t want to hide it from you anymore. All the reasons I had for doing so suddenly didn’t make any sense.” 

He pulls her into a hug, his arm tight around her as he kisses her cheek, “I’m glad you told me,” he says, smiling as she turns her head to kiss him.

“I’m glad I did too,” she replies, nudging her nose against his, “I…I was so worried it would change how you looked at me.” 

He frowns and pulls back to look at her, shaking his head as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Never,” he assures her, “Nothing ever could. Especially this.” 

She furrows her brow and tilts her head at him, “What do you mean?” 

He sighs as he chooses his words carefully, “You’ve always been bi, sweetheart, right? It’s been part of who you are as long as I’ve known you, and it’s been part of you as long as I’ve loved you,” he smiles as he reaches out to wipe away a tear from her cheek, “So it doesn’t change anything because it’s always been who you are, even if you hadn’t told me.” 

She leans forward, her forehead against his neck as she breathes him in again, the world the same as it had been before she’d told him, but somehow different too. His understanding of her deeper but everything else unchanged. She takes a moment to hold him close, and she plays everything he’d said back in her head. A conversation she’d remember again and again as a reminder of how much he loved her, how well he loved her. Something she thinks that, after everything, she might just deserve. She furrows her brow as she thinks about it, the way he’d said part of all those wonderful things catching in her chest. Aaron was purposeful in everything. Not calculated, but purposeful. He never said anything he didn’t mean, and she narrows her eyes at him as she pulls back. 

“Wait…you said ‘even if I hadn’t told you…” she tilts her head as he clears his throat, avoiding her eye contact, “Oh my god - you knew?” 

He sighs, scratching the back of his head with the hand not tangled up in hers, “Sweetheart-”

She scoffs and lightly hits his chest, her cheeks burning at the thought that she’d got herself so worked up over something he apparently already knew, “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

He smiles at her indignation, catching her hand before she slaps his chest again for laughing at her. He kisses her knuckles and smiles fondly at her, disarming her ability to be annoyed at him so easily she’s annoyed at herself. 

“It wasn’t my place to, Em,” he says, “It’s your story to tell.” 

She knows he’s right and she huffs out a breath, her cheek against his shoulder as she pouts in a way she’d deny if he brought it up, “How the hell did you know?” 

“As someone who has been in love with you for much longer than I care to admit, I paid close attention to your interactions with anyone I thought might be flirting with you,” he smiles as she tilts her head to look at him, “It didn’t take long to realise you have chemistry with literally every person you ever meet.” 

She suppresses a laugh, her lips pressed together as one more wave of anxiety rolls through her, “And you don’t mind?” 

He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss her, his hand on her cheek to hold her in place, “If anything, it just makes me feel even more lucky that out of everyone you could be with you chose to be with me.” 

She sighs but it catches in her chest, love for him filling her lungs so fast she can’t catch her breath, “Oh, no honey,” she says, placing her hand over his on her cheek, shaking her head as he catches a tear the moment it slips free from her lashes, “I’m the lucky one.” 

[velvetyh]

⌜Ticket to Temptation⌝

꒰ PAIRING ꒱ Police Captain!Juyeon x implied fem!reader ꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ Provoking a police officer just for fun didn't end up the way you thought it would... is it bad, though? ꒰ WORD COUNT ꒱ 7.2k (I am so sorry)꒰ TW ꒱ very poorly written, 18+, (semi?) car sex, public sex, lots of pet names, attempt at writing sexual tension, y/n calling Juyeon "Captain", ass spanking, oral (fem receiving), doggy style, degrading praising pet names ꒰ NOTE ꒱ the beginning of the fic is the same as my previous fic with eric!! I got a sweet person asking for an alternate fic in the same genre, so here it is! feedback is greatly appreciated !! <3 ꒰ REQUESTED ꒱ yes! sort of? (thank you for your ask, btw! <3)

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“Good morning, Officer,” you greeted with a smile as you exited your vehicle parked not far from the police station to get to your work.

Honestly, working next to a police station had its benefits. Seeing handsome men in uniform was always a sight to see and knowing that they could be there in the snap of a finger in case of emergency reassured you.

“Morning, ma’am,” the officer answered after finishing talking to a colleague through a talkie-walkie, giving you a polite nod and a brief smile. You keep walking until you hear the same voice calling out for you.

“Ma’am, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” you turned around, looking in the man's eyes with a smile. He maintained eye contact briefly before clearing his throat, shoving his hand into his uniform pocket.

“You are the owner of this car, right?” he asked as he pointed at your black Audi RS3, and you nodded, staring up at him.

“Yes, why?”

“It’s not the first time that I've seen it poorly parked, you should be careful. It might disturb the traffic and cause an accident, or someone could accidentally smash it if they’re not paying enough attention,” you obediently nodded again, offering him your best smile.

“I promise to be careful next time. Have a good day, Officer!”

However, the next morning, you parked yourself the same way you did yesterday, the same police officer standing in front of the station. You got out of your car as if it were nothing, but you immediately bumped against a broad chest, recognising the same masculine fragrance as yesterday.

“Ma’am? What did I tell you yesterday? Your back tyres aren’t among the lines, and they’re almost hindering the traffic. Next time I catch you doing this I’m giving you a fine, understood?”

“Yes, Officer Sohn,” you mumbled as his name tag was almost hitting your nose at your proximity.

“Good.” You stared up at him for a few seconds and apologised again before he stepped aside, nodding again before walking away, going back to his spot in front of the police station.

You were doing this on purpose because he was hot, and the uniform didn’t help at all. You wanted to see how long you could play dumb until it went too far, but what could happen aside from a fine?

Maybe something amazing? you considered.

The next morning, you weren’t in the mood to play. You had started your day pretty badly, the waitress at the Starbucks drive-through had accidentally spilt your beverage on your brand-new blouse as she handed you your drink, not only ruining the fabric but also your mood and your good hopes of having a good day. And after being stuck in traffic for god knows how long, you finally made it to your workplace.

“Ma’am, this time-“

“Yes, Officer, I know that I’m not parked inside the lines, I know. Have you seen the side of your parking spaces and my car? It won’t fit, and I can’t take public transport from where I live, it’s way too far from my workplace to function properly the rest of the day. So just give me a fine so I can move on from this shitty day,” you snapped at the officer, whose eyes opened widely, and he took a step back, giving you space.

You sighed in annoyance and stared up at him, seeing him keeping a relaxed attitude somehow managed to calm you down a bit, which was something unexplainable.

“Rough morning?” he calmly asked, hand going to his talkie-walkie on his shoulder to quickly dismiss it as his colleague's voice buzzed from it.

“Yes, this morning's rough. I just want to go home to forget about everything,” you annoyingly said while looking at the traffic jam in front of you, the police officer looking at you with his hands on his hips.

“Okay, this is the very last time I let you run away with this. I’m being very indulgent with you today because I don’t want to worsen your day. Consider yourself lucky not to have met my superior yet. Captain Lee is not as lenient as I am, trust me. He would’ve fined you each time you wrongly parked, as well as the window tints that seem a bit darker than allowed,” Officer Sohn stated, his finger grazing against your windows, barely able to see the steering wheel and the front seats.

“Everything is up to date and in compliance with current requirements, Officer,” you spat, crossing your arms against your chest, hissing as the remaining bits of coffee went through the fabric onto your skin.

“If you say so,” Officer Sohn sighed, not convinced at all by your words, “when you arrive tomorrow, I strongly advise you park well, understood? I might not be on duty here tomorrow, so I won’t be able to let you get away with it.”

“Fine. Have a good day, Officer,” you mumbled while locking your car, leaving the police officer on the pavement and watching you angrily enter the building you worked at.

Your day didn’t get better despite praying whatever God to help you. As soon as you stepped foot in the building, the big boss saw you with your stained top and had to share his opinion in front of everyone, telling your manager that she wasn’t doing a great job at teaching her employees the company dress code.

So, of course, when the CEO was out of sight, she took all her anger on you, and it exploded in a big fight in the open space. All the precedent events had already angered you, but this was just the cherry on top. You almost said things that could have gotten you fired, and you were frustrated when she took her afternoon off for “personal issues”, leaving you to take care of all her daily assignments alone.

When you got out of work, you were mad at the world, ready to punch someone and yell out your frustration. You were thankful your intern was a hardworking person and tried to handle the work you gave him on his own, feeling bad when he walked on eggshells to ask for guidance, kind of scared of you after witnessing your row with your manager.

Car keys in hand, you walked to your parking spot, only to find it empty.

Your car was no longer there.

“What the fuck,” you mumbled, looking around, as if you had become delirious throughout the day and parked it somewhere else. No, no, it was supposed to be parked in front of the police station, on the left side of the main door. Yet, your Audi was nowhere to be seen.

Stepping foot into the police station, you cleared your throat as anger rose in your chest, finding Officer Sohn at a desk, focusing on a task on his computer.

“Officer?” you asked, and he looked up, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of your figure.

“Ma’am? How can I help?”

“I am looking for my car, a black RS3 Audi. I parked it right there this morning.”

“I remember, yeah,” he smirked, the vivid argument between you two coming back to mind.

“Well? Do you happen to know where it is?”

“I know where it is,” a voice rose from behind you, making you turn around.

A tall, muscular figure appeared from the staircase, a serious frown on his lips contrasting with the curious softness that his eyes held. The weight of the bulletproof vest he wore didn’t seem to bother him, his movements as fluid as water. Slender fingers pushed some hair away from his face as he confidently approached you.

“You’re looking for an Audi RS3? Black, tinted windows? Poorly parked?” his deep voice made you shiver, and you nodded.

“Yeah, that’s my-“

“Towed to the pound,” he proudly stated, your face falling in shock making him smirk.

“What?” you almost screamed.

This day couldn’t get any worse.

“Did you really tow my car? Just for two wheels outside the parking lot? Don’t you have other things to do, like arresting real criminals, Officer?”

You failed to notice Officer Sohn’s eyes growing wide at the title you gave the man, the latter angrily scowling at you.

“First and foremost, when someone does not respect the laws, they are, in my eyes, a criminal. You didn’t park the way your little instructor taught you during your little driving lessons, so that makes you a valid criminal.”

You scoffed, your reaction not amusing the man in front of you.

“And, ma’am, for the record, this little symbol you see here,” he patted his upper torso with a smirk, “makes me a Captain.”

You read the name on his uniform.

Captain Juyeon Lee.

Oh shit.

You briefly looked at Officer Sohn, whose eyes held some sympathy in them mixed with an “I told you” gaze.

“Respect goes both ways,” he continued, “I’d like you to address me as Captain Lee from now on.” His serious, menacing tone was meant to impress you, but you were far from it.

“Fine, Captain Lee,” you stressed the word “Captain”, earning a bitter smile from the high-ranked policeman. “Since you oh so nicely towed my car to the pound on the other side of town, how do you expect me to go home in reasonable hours, when I live in the village downtown, two hours and a half away from here ?”

“There’s a bus leaving in… now actually, to go there,” Captain Lee smirked while checking his watch, and your eyes bore into his, your pupils sending him daggers that he ignored.

He found it quite amusing the way you were looking at him. Almost…cute.

“Or you could call an Uber and then go home,” he suggested, making you scoff again.

“An Uber? To this side of town? I can’t believe you are being serious right now,” you mumbled the last sentence, shaking your head at his dumb remark. “I won’t be your next murder case to investigate just to keep you busy, since you’re so bored that you like to bother people for two tyres,” you took a step and stared at him, the Captain not budging.

“Then there’s nothing else I can do for you, ma’am,” he stated, walking around you to get to his desk, soon followed by two officers.

You huffed, exiting the station to get some fresh air. Officer Sohn was right, he really was something else. He was not as patient as him.

On the other hand, you were the one to blame, you provoked it. By wanting to see how far you could go without getting a fine, you played and got burned. Now you pay the price of being stuck in the city and not having a car to go home.

“I’m fucking dumb,” you mumbled to yourself, typing on your phone as you tried to think of a solution, a hand flying to your hair to tug on some strands.

Your manager lived down the street. Hell no, with what happened this morning, you’d rather set yourself on fire than knock at her door for help. The CEO? Super weird. The intern? Even worse.

A few droplets of water landing on your head got you out of your deep thoughts. You stepped back when the droplets intensified, and you defeatedly watched the rain abruptly pour on the streets, people running in front of you to seek shelter.

Great. Today was officially the worst day of your life.

You sighed, stuffing your phone in your bag as you mentally prepared yourself to go to the nearest coffee to quench your thirst and think of a way to go home. Your heels clicked on the pavement, your hand rising to your face to shield your eyes and brows from the rain, ready to trot to a bar or whatever building could offer you something to drink.

As you were about to step away from the police station into the rain, a strong hand seized your biceps, dragging you in the other direction. You shrieked and tried to set your arm free, but the grip was stronger than you thought. Looking up, you growled in annoyance as you recognised the same jet-black hair and bulletproof vest from a few moments earlier.

“What did I do now? Did I breathe incorrectly? Were my heels too loud on the tarmac for the neighbourhood? Did I huff too loudly?” Captain Lee shook his head from side to side with an amused smile on his face at your words, his eyes rolling as you tried to set yourself free again. This time, he didn’t fight and let go of your arm. He unlocked his police car in a swift motion and opened the passenger door.

“Get in,” he ordered.

“What for?” you questioned, and he sighed, wordlessly gesturing you to sit down. You growled but obliged, startled at the force he used to slam the door shut.

A few seconds later, he’s next to you, turning the engine on.

“You’re lucky Sohn is a nice guy. Seatbelt,” he ordered.

“What do you mean?” you side-eyed the police officer, his words making you look at him.

“You’re lucky he can read people well and has good arguments,” you stared at his hand on the steering wheel, effortlessly shifting gears as you slowly exited the city.

You remained silent for an instant. That’s when you realised where you were heading—the car pound.

“Thank you,” you mumbled and crossed your arms against your torso, shifting to the right side to slightly turn your back to him, your body suddenly seized by comfort and exhaustion as you could begin to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

You didn’t know if it was his cologne, his way of driving or the warmth oozing from the seat heater that got you so relaxed, but you weren’t going to complain. It was nice, almost making you forget about your terrible day.

“I’m not the one you should thank for this, I’m doing this so Sohn doesn’t throw a tantrum in the middle of the police station. You have a lot in common you two, I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up together,” his last sentence sounded like a backhanded compliment, but you took it, nonetheless.

“It’s still better than being rude and arrogant,” you mumbled, and the Captain’s brows rose to the sky, slamming on the brakes as you arrived at a stop sign. You were startled, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Don’t make me regret listening to my colleague,” he mumbled through his gritted teeth, turning on his indicator before making a right turn.

The rest of the journey to the car pound was quiet, only the sound of the car engine filling in the silence. Despite his shitty attitude, the Captain next to you was quite handsome. Long neck, high cheekbones, slender fingers, flawless skin, and a muscular body, he was well-proportioned. The uniform added a little something to his charm. Or it was maybe just your uniform kink speaking up.

When you arrived at the car pound, the rain had stopped but it was stuffy. A storm was not far from breaching the sky, the clouds were so dark that you were expecting thunder at any moment. Not something you were looking forward to going home with.

“I hope they took good care of my car,” you mumbled as you walked next to the Captain. His boots hit the ground in a soft thud, matching your pace as you were still in your office clothes.

“Come on, it’s just a heap of metal pieces,” Captain Lee stated, and you stifled a growl of annoyance by deeply sighing.

“To you, maybe. I cherish it a lot, I worked so hard to afford it,” you retorted.

“If you say so,” he shrugged, and you huffed.

“Yes, I say so.”

You didn’t have time to argue further that the guy responsible for the car pound greeted you with a professional smile.

“Captain! You are back already?”

“Yes I am, joined by the culprit in person,” the guy laughed, and you scowled at the police officer, who briefly looked down at you with a satisfied smirk.

That fucker was enjoying playing with your nerves.

“I was not expecting such a pretty lady to own a car like this one,” he said, and you offered him a fake smile.

“Yet here I am,” you said, voice emotionless, the guy not taking the hint that you didn’t find him funny.

“Follow me, please,” the grey-haired man led the way, Captain Lee’s hand hovering in your lower back made you shiver.

The walk to your car was muddy and perilous in heels, Captain Lee had to catch your arm once to prevent you from falling face-first in a puddle of mud.

“What a good idea to come here in heels,” he sarcastically said, making you roll your eyes.

“Your fault,” you mumbled, readjusting your bag strap on your shoulder.

“My fault?”

“Yes, your fault! If you took care of burglars and thieves rather than bothering a woman that just tries to do her job, we wouldn’t be there,” you pettily retorted and the guy laughed, enjoying your bickering with the police officer, who simply scoffed.

“You remind me of my wife and me when we were younger,” your face turned into a frown that thankfully no one saw. You didn’t say anything and kept walking.

Your heart lightened a bit when you saw your car, but your face immediately fell when you saw how muddy it was.

“What the fuck happened to my car? It was clean when I arrived at work this morning!” you exclaimed, walking around it to check if there were any shocks or dents in the body of the car.

“Ahh, this,” the guy embarrassingly scratched the back of his head, looking down as he felt the Captain’s questioning eyes on him, “it’s probably my employees. They can’t resist testing them when they see cars like this.”

You were going to murder someone.

“And you’re going to let that slide, Captain?” you spat, drawing the officer’s attention on you, as he seemed quite interested in your car, despite what he had told you earlier.

“Do you have proof that they did it?” he argued back, and you resisted the urge to strangle him by breathing deeply.

“He just confessed!” you yelled, and the Captain shrugged.

“I would need stronger proof to incriminate them,” you closed your eyes, focused on your breathing pattern, and nodded. Reopening them, they were glossy with tears, the car emitting a low “click” as you unlocked it with your keys.

“Do I need to pay for something?” you asked no one in particular, the two male figures blurry because of your tears. You noticed that the car guy was slightly embarrassed by the situation, Captain Lee remaining the same stoic man as before.

“225 000,00 Won for the journey and parking here,” the car guy mumbled, and you got your wallet and got the bank notes that he requested.

“Here you go. Captain, feel free to send me a fine for my parking by post, I’ll pay it as soon as I receive it. Have a good evening,” you mumbled as you entered your car, carefully driving on the road, the police car soon a memory.

“Fucking assholes,” you mumbled through gritted teeth as you reached the main road, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand.

Maybe your reaction was a bit too much, but it left the two men too stunned to speak. The car guy was embarrassed by his employees’ behaviour, and Captain Lee was silent.

He had pushed your buttons for hours when you were already on the edge and eventually, you broke down. He had done that in the past with witnesses to check if they were telling the truth or not. Normally, he enjoyed watching the culprit break down in tears and confess their crime, yet here he wasn’t as satisfied as usual.

He felt bad. Guilty, per se.

He bid farewell to the car guy and paced back to his car, starting the engine as he followed your path. The thunder was raging in the middle of the town, he could see the lightning bolts illuminating the sky as he drove back to the civilisation.

Captain Lee paused at the same stop sign, yet not abruptly this time. He took a quick second to think logically. He had two chances: either you drove straight back home, or you went to the closest car wash station from here.

Turning on his blue and red lights, he floored the gas pedal and drove to the nearest car wash station he knew.

The distant sound of a siren drew your attention as you finished inspecting your car, relieved that, after a good wash, your vehicle was intact as before. You got back into your car as the siren got closer. Soon blue, and red lights were illuminating your face as you watched in your rearview mirror. With a sigh, you noticed Captain Lee approaching your window. Anger washed over you and you got out of your car, startling the Captain. You noticed that his hand was quick to go to his holster – probably a force of habit – before going back to his pocket.

You wordlessly side-eyed him as you tore the dark tint on each of your windows, crumpling up the pieces in a big, black plastic ball before handing it to him.

“Here you go, Captain. My car is now 100% in compliance with your current requirements. Happy?” you questioned and forced the ball of waste to his chest for him to take.

His hand seized your wrist, much gentler this time. His softness startled you, making you look at him with furious eyes to make your confusion.

“Things went too far, ma’am. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry,” his baritone voice was calm and low, sending vibrations in your heart.

You sighed, swallowing the lump in the throat that was threatening to rise, again. Captain Lee had to resist the urge to wipe the streaks of dry mascara under your eyes, forcing his hands back in his pockets as he let go of your forearm.

“It’s not entirely your fault. I had a really shitty day, all of this just made me exhausted and– .”

“I didn’t help to ease the situation. I wanted to apologise, it went too far,” he cut you.

“I appreciate your apology, Captain,” your mouth stretched in a small, tired smile, which the officer replicated almost immediately.

A few seconds passed as you kept staring at each other, Captain Lee carefully stepping closer to you as he saw you didn’t budge the first time.

The wind softly blew a few pieces of hair in your face. Juyeon’s fingers were quick to place them back behind your ear, much to your surprise. His body worked quicker than his brain, realising way too late what he had done.

“You do this to every woman that cries out of frustration in front of you?” you teased.

The police officer smirked, studying your facial features.

You were beautiful.

“Only to the pretty ones that throw tantrums like a child and drive a black Audi RS3,” he mumbled. You rolled your eyes, Juyeon’s hand quick to seize your jaw to make you look at him, his actions surprising you.

“You drive me nuts with those eye rolls,” he mumbled, his lips ghosting over yours, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“Yet you’re the one causing them,” you retorted in a mumble, now stuck between the side of your car and the bulletproof vest Juyeon was wearing, his knee slotting itself between your legs.

“But not for the good reasons,” your eyes studied his and you thickly swallowed when you saw his eyes briefly drop to your lips.

His free hand joined the other that was holding your jaw to cradle your face between them. Another pang of guilt hit his heart as his thumbs were stroking the salted, dry skin under your eyes because of the tears he caused.

“May I?” he whispered in a hushed voice. Immediately knowing what he wanted, you nodded, and his lips were on yours the following second.

The kiss was passionate and vivid. It held so many emotions that your head spun. You felt how sorry he was but soon after, how much he needed that. Your lips moved in sync, his tongue begging for entrance. When you granted him his wish, he was quick to fight for dominance and you gave in, a hand fisting his hair while your other arm was around his neck, trying to keep yourself grounded and steady in this kiss.

When you pulled away from his lips, you were breathless, heart rummaging in your chest. You had never been kissed like that by anyone, yet you adored it. You wanted more. Juyeon wasted no time and peppered your jaw and neck with hungry kisses, nipping and licking at the skin to rile you up.

“Officer,” you said in a moan, choking on a squeal when Juyeon’s hand harshly collided with your ass.

“You know you’re not supposed to call me that,” he grunted, pulling away from you. You whined from the lack of warmth his body provided you.

“Captain,” you corrected yourself, and he smirked, his hand spanking you again, softer this time, before whispering you to jump.

Wrapping your arms around his neck and linking your legs at the small of his back, Juyeon effortlessly walked you back to his cruiser, opening the passenger door and gently settling you down on. Finding the handle underneath the seat, he rolled it away from the dashboard and inclined it down. You were in such a comfortable position that you could almost take a nap, yet Juyeon had other plans for you that sounded more exciting.

“You okay, darling?” he asked, and you nodded, smiling as he removed his bulletproof vest from his chest to take off his shirt. The sight almost made you drool, his muscular body begging to be touched. You couldn’t resist and felt his abs with your hand, the gesture making him smirk.

“Like what you see?”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” you shamelessly answered, and he smirked, diving back to your mouth to kiss you before settling on his knees in the small space between your seat and the dashboard.

“Pretty girl got her heels so dirty,” he said as he seized your calf and removed your shoes one after the other, carelessly tossing them in the backseat.

Goosebumps rose in your body as his mouth started to kiss your skin from your calf up to your knees, his hands bunching up your pencil skirt in the process to get access to the skin of your thighs. His mouth was hot against your shivering skin, your breath catching in your throat as he was at eye-level with your core. Looking up, he kissed the inner parts of your thigh, earning a low moan from you as he progressively got closer to your core.

“More, Captain. I need more,” you whined, and he smirked, his hands caressing your calves up and down.

“More of what?” he teased, and you wiggled like a maggot, attempting to get your core closer to his mouth.

“Of you,” you breathily mumbled, “I need your mouth on me.”

A high-pitched groan escaped your lips when he pressed his lips against your clothed core, his tongue poking your entrance in a teasing manner. You were already withering under his touch, and he had barely done anything. He could feel how wet you were through the fabric, his ego flying through the roof that he was the one leaving you in such a putty state.

“I promise I’ll be a good girl,” you seemed to have found the right words to get under his skin, your begging awakening something inside him that blood rushed straight to his cock.

“Yeah? You promise you’ll park well tomorrow?”

“I promise, Captain.”

“Good girl,” he kissed your hip bone, and you whined, your core clenching around nothing when he pulled your panties down in a swift motion, the air welcoming your folds in a fresh embrace that made you audibly gasp.

“Such a pretty cunt, so wet, just for me,” he stated as he trailed his fingers down to your glistening slit, earning a back arch from you.

Your hand fisted his hair when he dragged his tongue from your slit to your clit, giving it special attention as your lustful moans spurred him on. His tongue rolled and licked around your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance as your legs wrapped themselves around his head.

“Oh my god, fuck!” you moaned as Juyeon inserted two fingers inside your warmth, humming at how wet you were thanks to him. Turning his palm to the sky and hooking up his fingers, he started licking your clit harder and pounding his fingers inside you at such a rapid pace that you were barely controlling your moans.

“You sound so pretty for me, darling,” he praised you, smirking as his words made you clench around his fingers, making a mental note of it, “do you like how I make you feel?” he asked, his free hand playing with one of your breasts over your shirt.

You hummed in agreement as your shaky hands tried to undo the first few buttons of your shirt, passing it over your head to reveal your bra. Juyeon hummed as he saw the black lingerie decorating your chest and caressed it, feeling the warm, bouncy flesh against his palm while his other hand was still buried inside your pussy.

“Put your feet on the dashboard for me, love,” he ordered in a whisper, and you immediately obliged, allowing his fingers to reach deeper inside you, making you groan in pleasure.

“Oh my god, Captain, please keep going, that feels so good,” your voice was getting weaker as your orgasm was approaching thanks to his fingers and tongue skills, the public situation of your dirty little business only increasing your sensitivity and pleasure.

“Does it?” he questioned, and you moaned as an answer, urging Juyeon to pick up the pace by seizing his forearm and pushing his fingers harder and quicker inside you.

The message was loud and clear for Juyeon, who immediately removed your hand and latched his mouth around your clit, loudly suckling on it. His moans against your sensitive skin sent jolts of electricity in your body, the knot in your stomach close to snapping. You wanted to last a bit more, but the feeling was becoming overwhelming when Juyeon added a third finger, stretching you out like no one had done before.

You cried in pleasure, Juyeon smirking against your pussy as your moans were making him as hard as a branch.

“C-Can I cum?” you begged between staggered breaths, your fingers playing with your breasts.

You were being a good girl to him, asking in such a pretty, begging voice if you could finish. He really had to resist the urge to just remove his fingers and instead stick his cock deep into your core.

“Cum for me, pretty girl, you deserve it. You had a long day today,” he mumbled, his fingers still entering you at a rapid pace as his other hand left your breast to play with your clit.

His attentive words pushed you over the edge. Juyeon felt the force of your orgasm by how strong your core was clenching around his fingers, almost preventing him from moving. Your voice was strained as you loudly moaned, a mix of “Captain” and “Juyeon”, as well as profanities shamelessly leaving your pretty, bruised lips from biting them too much.

What a pretty sight that was for Juyeon. He had made his ex-girlfriends cum before, but not this hard and not with just his fingers and tongue. His dick was rock hard as you slowly came back to your senses, chest heavily heaving up and down, eyes glazed with lust and tiredness. You whimpered when Juyeon removed his fingers glistening with your release, sucking them clean. A lazy smile decorated your mouth at his action, grabbing Juyeon by the back of the neck to taste yourself on his lips.

“You’re so sexy,” he whispered against your mouth, your shaky hands caressing his warm torso. You wanted more of him, your hand unbuckling his belt as you pressed your mouth against his.

Your curious fingers eventually found the waistband of his underwear, tugging it down to reveal his hard cock. It was girthy but mostly long, leaking with precum, his balls feeling heavy in your hand. It jolted when you wrapped your digits around it, giving a few sharp strokes, earning a deep groan from the police officer on top of you.

“Easy, pretty girl, I wanna last,” you giggled at his words and kissed his lips, Juyeon blindly searching for something in the compartment of the centre console armrest.

“What are you doing?” you asked while kissing his neck, your hand still lustfully stroking him.

“I’m looking for a condom,” he grunted and softly moaned in your ear when you teased his slit.

“Awn…. Scared your pull-out game isn’t strong enough?” you teased, and he grabbed your throat, pinching your nipple as he planted his gaze in yours.

“Would you prefer getting knocked up by a total stranger?” he retorted.

“If it’s a hot, dark-haired Captain named Juyeon Lee, I wouldn’t mind,” you joked with a bright smile, the man in front of you capturing your lips in a swift kiss to shush you.

You giggled when he flipped you around and spanked your cheeks with a grunt, your laugh turning into a moan as the pain increased the wetness pooling down your leg.

“I take what I said earlier back, you’re such a dirty, bad girl,” he punctuated the downgrading nickname with a harsh spank, making you moan.

“See, your moaning confirms that I’m right,” he snorted, and you pushed your bum backwards to get him to keep going.

“Fuck me please, Captain?” you looked behind and feigned innocence, offering big doe eyes to Juyeon.

After eventually finding a condom and rolling it on his hard shaft, Juyeon neared his tip to your entrance, easily sliding it in thanks to your wet cunt. You loudly moaned his name and earned a spank from the police officer, his hands holding your hips as he pushed himself further inside you. He was so long, you felt like his tip was poking your stomach when he bottomed out.

“You feel so tight,” he grunted through gritted teeth as you clenched around him.

“You’re so long, gosh. You fill me up so well,” you closed your eyes as you laid the side of your head against the headrest, enjoying how good his dick was filling you, Juyeon’s chest resting against your back as he was moaning in your ear, his fingers teasing your clit just to rile you up and get you even wetter.

“As if we were meant to be, mh?” he mumbled in the shell of your ear and you nodded, his hips rolling against yours in slow thrusts, letting you adjust to his length. He didn’t want to go all in at the beginning because he knew that he wouldn’t last two minutes, especially with the way you were moaning his ranking.

Plus, backshots were always one of his favourite positions to use during sex. With you, it was even better than the times with other girls. He loved to see his cock going in and out of your cunt, how your wetness was coating his shaft, the excess pooling at the rim of it and slowly drooling down to his balls. Your back was arching like a cat stretching, allowing him to caress the soft skin and decorate it with kisses or bites. Your ass colliding with his hips was also a sight to see, the red imprints of his hands slowly forming on the soft flesh from all the spanking.

Juyeon’s hand came to grab your neck and push you deeper into the seat, granting his cock better access to the depth of your core. He reached further inside you, triggering your g-spot and making you scream in pleasure, your thighs slowly starting to shake. You had to fight the urge to let your eyes roll at the back of your head at how good Juyeon’s cock was making you feel. It reached places you never thought existed, that was at least never found by your exes.

“The beautiful sight that you are,” the officer mumbled, his hands caressing your back down to your ass, down your hips to your pussy. His mouth rested against the shell of your ear, gently nibbling on your lobe, whispering soft words of praise at how well you were taking his cock.

He smirked at how you clenched around him, the hand that was still between your legs coming up to your mouth, forcing it open. You welcomed his fingers with a hum, your tongue rolling around them to taste yourself.

“You’re such a pretty, obedient slut, you know that?” he kissed your cheek as he picked up the pace, your moans muffled by his slender fingers still pressing down your tongue. You looked over your shoulder with pleading eyes, the slight gloss over them warning the officer that you were close, again.

“Don’t worry, darling,” the officer whispered, his hips colliding with your ass at a steady pace, “I’m going to make you cum again soon, just be patient, okay? I’m almost there,” his breath was heavy, his thumb caressing your cheek as you docilely nodded at his words.

Eventually removing his fingers from your mouth, you yelped in pleasure as his wet fingers pinched your nipples, sending jolts of electricity down your body to your core.

“Please, Captain, I’m so close, I need it. So badly,” you begged, getting tired and so sensitive that one sharp movement could make you topple over the edge.

Juyeon stilled inside you, taking the time to gather your hair in one of his hands and kiss you on the lips. Your head dropped and you moaned as you felt him push himself desperately deeper inside you, your ass and his hip bone forming one, his cock thickening with lust.

Without a warning, the hand in your hair tightened, making your head tilt back up and groan, his hips colliding hard and fast with your ass, the flesh giggling at every movement.

Drunk in pleasure, Juyeon’s chest was pressed against your back, primal movements not faltering a second. His moans were erratic, grunts all over the place as the sound of skin slapping filled the police car.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna- Oh fuck!” that’s all you managed to say before your body went totally limp, legs shaking as your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, a hand wrapped around his wrist as your core was almost pushing him out of you.

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it. Come around my cock,” he helped you ride your orgasm by toying with your clit, mouth praising you between covering your shoulder blades with hot kisses.

Your pussy tightening made Juyeon’s cock super sensitive, precum slowly filling the condom. He was not going to last long, he just needed a bit more of you to get there.

“Can you handle a bit more, baby? I’m almost there,” he whispered, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as if he hadn’t just given you the best orgasm you’ve had in ages. Turning around to face him, you spread your trembling legs wide open for him, taking his cock in your hand to stuff it back inside you.

“I take that as a yes,” Juyeon smirked and you hummed, barely catching your breath as his hips were already ramming back inside you.

Resting his forehead against yours, Juyeon’s movements started to falter, his brown eyes blown out with lust. The way your face contorted in pleasure and your legs shaking in sensitivity were helping him get closer to his peak, loving that you were drowning in lust thanks to him.

Your hand flew to his hair and started tugging on some strands as he picked up the pace. Legs crossing in his lower back, caging him in an embrace, a low grunt of your name erupted from the police officer’s mouth, his hips stilling a second later.

“Oh my god, Y/N, fuck!” You gasped as his cum filled the condom, Juyeon rutting his hips against yours as he rode his orgasm, low groans escaping from his lips.

Your moans and your nails digging into his shoulders made him groan in lust and ride his high, soon resting his weight on you, your sweaty bodies heaving up and down in sync.

Slowly coming back to your senses, Juyeon partially removed himself from you, pulling away from your core. He smiled at you, softly kissing your lips before quickly sucking on your breast. You shivered, almost getting turned on again at the sight of the filled-up condom.

Helping each other to get dressed, it was hard for you to stand on your heels. Juyeon had turned your legs into jelly, and you could barely walk the distance that separated your car from the police cruiser.

“Are you going to be okay to get home safely?” Juyeon looked at you with a veil of worry in his eyes. You smiled, carefully walking up to him to press your lips against his.

“I will,” you smirked, your hand removing non-existent dust on his uniform just for the physical contact to linger one more second. You were already exhausted because of your day at work, those moments with him didn’t help you feel energized at all.

“Be careful on the road. I wouldn’t want the next time I see you be at the hospital,” you smiled as his hands were gently stroking your sore hips.

“That wouldn’t be a great idea, indeed,” you teased, your mouth kissing his neck. He closed his eyes for a moment, getting lost again in the sensation of your mouth on him.

“What about a date, instead?” he suggested, changing the subject as he was close to ripping your clothes from your body, just to feel your core squeeze around his cock one more time.

You smirked at his words, making you take a step back at him.

“I’d love that, Captain.” you teased as you stuffed something inside the back pocket of his pants before carefully walking to your car.

Frowning, he reached for his pants and scoffed at the lacey lingerie between his fingers, his boxers feeling restrictive, again.

As you drove off back home, Juyeon did the same, your panties in his hand. He smirked as he noticed the dry stains of your wetness he caused by kissing you.

He couldn’t wait to make you scream his name again. For now, he’d have to use his imagination.

And your panties.

[miss0atae]

BL fashion in Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart (EP 3):

Yeah! I can finally do this post! Of course, it was perfect because it was an episode centered around a fashion show, so I knew we would get plenty of nice outfits.

Let's start with this one. It's the fall fashion trend from 2016 hefty padding and bulky leathers inspired by the gear worn for motocross and motorcycle racing. Paired with these nice white glasses (my personal favorite) you can't go wrong and Joker knows it. Perfect to the thirst trap he was aiming to be at that moment. It's kinda like he was trying to have this rubber-burning bad boy persona.

Of course, I had to talk about this one. Blond bleached hair with this tight almost-scorched shirt. I guess Joker was trying to embody the satire of a model persona. It looked good on him and the fact he was escorted reinforced the idea. Great job!

I know he is the son of the big villain of the series (so far), but you can't deny he has a keen eye for fashion. I'm not sure I really liked the white broderie blazer jacket because it looked weird, but the metal plastron shirt over the black tank top is amazing: 10/10. I think I don't like the jacket because it doesn't go well with the necklace and it would have been better without.

This ! This was what I was waiting for! It's cool. It feels like the theme of the fashion show was Alien Chic. Glitters, silver colors, the absurd glasses that makes you look like you escaped a movie about space in the 80's and this jacket I love. It was very fun.

Just for your viewing pleasure my favorite psycho who despite being a bodyguard is always very fashionable. He could have been the model with a little bit more glitters and silver on him. I really like the necklace, even if it's a really bad fashion decision as a fighter.

Of course, you must know that an outfit really stands out when you pair it with a signature piece such as a ring. Even better, if it's you're future lover who put it on you. It gives the plighted troth needed for this type of enemies-to-lovers relationship.

Of course they were more interesting looks in this episode, but I just gave my personal favorites. Can't wait for next episode.