#non is fired for being too perfect

[gremlingottoosilly]

What lies within (Tentacle!Monster!Konig x fem!Reader)

It's mating season for monster hybrids. Unfortunately for you, the colonel didn't have time to dump his eggs everywhere. TW and tags: Non-con, size difference, oviposition, monster hybrids, forced breeding, belly bulging, yandere Konig, possessive Konig, tentacles, double penetration. Word count: 3278

The brave new world of opportunities for monsters.

The illustrious life for those who are not afraid of being a hunter in the billion flocks of weak, stupid prey. 

There are endless possibilities for the ones who decide to serve in the various armed forces specifically tailored to monsters. 

And loads of other bullshit that König had to endure every day on the briefs. Propaganda, advertisement, and weak attempts to make a new generation of monster hybrids abandon their old ways and join either army or contracting forces, making them glorified mercenaries. Jaided and disillusioned, the colonel long abandoned the thoughts that service can be fun, that it can bring him something other than money and occasional bullets in various places. 

“Most inclusive workplaces for monsters,” his ass. They were fed bullshit on top of other bullshit, and he is already tired of war – but there isn’t much he can do besides it. The payment is nice, he gets to eat his enemies and tears through entire units of squishy, weak humans who make perfect snacks from their useless fucking bodies. 

— So. Abandoned by your team, ja? 

Unfortunately for him, sometimes war operations meant that he was not supposed to eat prisoners – he was supposed to take them, hoard them into rounds, and send them for either ransom or whatever higher-ups wanted to do with them. Sometimes, it’s torture for information, sometimes, it’s attempts to bring them to their side if they are worth it. 

Sometimes, he just looked in the eyes of a soft, squishy little prey and just couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. 

Well…” sometimes” is a very big word. He had never once thought about keeping the POW for himself before he met this stupidly beautiful, soft nurse with a perfect face, nice pair of legs in that ugly baggy uniform, and the most beautiful scent in the entire…

He never thought of keeping the prisoner for himself before he met you. 

It was supposed to be an easy mission for you – he can see it from your lack of normal armor. Either you had no idea that KorTac had their own plans for whatever you wanted to do here, or your contractor is extremely cheap. He likes either way – you smell like a human, and he likes dumb humans who would make perfect victims. You smell and look weak, trembling, perfect fucking pray for someone like him. König didn’t feel the need to transform for this battle. Your team ran away like a bunch of bunnies before he ever fired his first shot, but he could still feel his tentacles slowly stir under his hood. He can feel his body transforming without the need to – and he feels the pressure in his lower stomach. 

When was the last time he was able to put his eggs somewhere other that cold, unforgiving air? 

Even the bagginess of your uniform doesn’t obscure him from looking at the sway of your hips, at the perfect surface of your tummy, and feeling the smell of your ripe, fertile body. Having a strong sense of smell always came like a curse in the team of monsters where showering after a mission isn’t something that is done by many, buy König can appreciate his nose now – he can smell how perfect you are for breeding. How scared, too. 

Poor thing, probably terrified of his. König knows how he looks, even in his human form – tall, broad, bigger than any man you saw before, so much more muscular that even with your military training as a combat nurse, he could still break your spine with one hand. His size is something that made it impossible to find a partner normal ways – monsters are naturally too dominant to ever submit to him, and humans are simply too scared to deal with someone like him. He isn’t surprised, no – if anything, he understands completely. 

You sob, your voice is melting with incomprehensible pleas and little whines. You are shaking under him – a poor, dumb girl who wasn’t aware that her best shot at surviving was to try and shoot his crotch off before he pulled a gun out of your hands. 

— Pl…please, you can’t…you can’t do this! It’s a crime, I was on medical duty, it’s…

König likes humans because they are dumb. Civilian humans are even cuter – run around, thinking their lives are protected by sets of laws and rules that, in fact, don’t apply to the strong – and you, in your full half-military half-civvie glory, are fucking perfect. You whine and sib, tears running down your face when he presses you under him. Your hand hits the hard rocks of the ground, and he shifts slightly, dragging you closer to a softer patch of grass. 

He laughs when you are trying to scramble from under him, your lower half is pinned by his weight – he is surprised you can still move. You move your pelvis, trying to get out – and he moans quietly when you start rubbing your crotch against his. You freeze, fear spreading on your face – god, he missed that feeling. When was the last time he got to actually breed someone? Or even just have sex with someone as cute? 

— You really think so, Schatzen? That rules will protect you? 

He moves his crotch against yours, making you sob a bit more. You’re sweet and compliant, and he just loves breaking soft things like you – it’s a desire to break, to destroy, to make you his. He knows that, technically, forcing himself on women from enemy lines really is a war crime. He also knows that if he’d managed to breed you with his eggs, monster laws would never allow you to separate after mating. 

Besides, it's not like he is going to let you go, so you could tell on him. König never believed in love at first sight, but you would be a perfect vessel for his eggs and his tentacles – what else would he need from a wife, right? 

— You’re pretty. 

He says plainly, his hand goes to rub your chest through the fabric of your uniform. You won’t need those ugly clothes anymore – he’d make sure to buy you something nice and frail that won’t make you too uncomfortable to carry his eggs. Maybe a soft, frail dress or some of those cute maternity clothes when your body starts to change. He can’t wait to see his breasts swelling with milk – even if his unfertilized eggs won’t need it, he certainly would. Even if you’re too weak to handle his load, he’d make sure to get you a nice, firm plug and keep you on his tentacles constantly. 

You start to sob even more when you understand what he is trying to do – when he rips your pants to reveal the softness of your cunt and the fragility of your [anties, you actually manage to push your legs against his dick a good few times. He is too aroused to notice – if anything, he likes how fiery you are, your little yells and loud screams for help. No one will come to aid you – he barked the orders for his soldiers to go and fuck around somewhere else while he was busy devouring his little prize. Colonel doesn’t like having an audience – if anything, he is saving your dignity right now. If anything, he is remarkably soft when he pushes one of his long, red tendrils down your body, massaging your pussy through your panties. 

You’re moist already when his tentacle finds a way to your labia. What a slutty nurse you are – getting off the enemy colonel breeding you in the middle of the battlefield. Your tears mean nothing when he is too busy massaging and pressing and playing with your sticky, puffy folds – poor girl, so deprived of attention that even the weird texture of his extensions only fuels your desire. 

So fragile, so perfect – and so, so wet that your adorable white panties are already become transparent, sticking to your soft pussy. When he takes you home, he’d make sure to forbid you from wearing any underwear at all – you would meet him dressing in nothing but his shirts, a hand on your tummy to support the weight of your eggs. Walls of your pussy clenching on the plug he’d make to insert in you every morning. 

— Don’t…please, don’t, n…

You whine ever so sweetly, trying to close your legs so he won’t be able to touch you. It’s futile, just one of his tendrils is ten times stronger than your hands. He gets through your closed legs, buried in the moistness of your sweet, perfect pussy. You taste heavenly – just one minute enough to make him hungrier than before. König’s mating season was often postponed due to constant adrenaline rushes and things he takes to enhance his battle abilities – but he can feel eggs pressing at the inside of his body now, preparing to be released in the sweet heat of your body. But he has to prepare you first. 

— Quiet now. It won’t hurt unless you want it to. 

His tendrils are coming to moisten your pussy even more – sweet numbness filling your body from the lower stomach and right to your head. Knowing that you must feel dizzy and just a tad bit dumb, König can’t wait but chuckle. He likes you empty-headed, adorable dumbness in your eyes. He knows that he doesn’t know you, that you might even already have a boyfriend on the civil side of your life – but he doesn’t care. His mind doesn’t easily fall for just anyone,  but if he saw a perfect vessel in you, there is no escape. At least he is nice enough to be gentle. 

You whimper slightly when he pushes the first tendril inside of you. Too impatient to use his hands or tongue to make you feel a bit more at ease – after all, you are still on the battlefield, even if your friends abandoned you to get picked up by KorTac. Too impatient to soothe you with his words, he uses one of his smaller, thinner tentacles to push your pussy walls, make you squeeze him and milk for all his worth. You are wet, but not enough to take him without crying. Hot and soft, the cold texture of his extensions contrasts with your body too much – you are shaking, he can feel slight vibrations at the soft walls of yours. 

Fitting him like a glove, too perfect to exist – he just wants to take you with him, to flip you on your tummy and push all of his tentacles inside. You’re tight and warm, you make him go crazy from desire. It’s weird how a strong and mighty colonel can be so charmed by just some enemy nurse, but when you whine slightly and try to adjust your body to fit more comfortably under him, he just knows that he has to take you. That, no matter how much you are crying and praying for him to stop, you want to be used by him. Perhaps, with certain training, you would want his eggs, too. 

Second tendril caught you by surprise. Just when you started to adjust to the weird, slimy feeling of something writhing inside of you, spreading your tight walls around it and clashing with the heat of your insides, a second, bigger one started to press on your clenched folds. You wanted to beg, to ask him to stop – you’re too tight for this, too small, you would never be able to take even just one of his tentacles, you were…

But his tendrils press easily, he accesses lube spreading between your legs. You are sobbing from the feeling, and he is laughing. His hand goes to rip the upper part of your clothing, revealing your midriff. Fingers pressing on your tummy, just to feel his tentacles inside – he laughs when the skin of your stomach is tensed up, revealing the outlines of his extension. God, he can’t wait to make your body swell from him. Even though the eggs are not bearing his children, he can imagine you and a bunch of little ones – you’d look much better like this than pretending to be a nurse. Honestly, what were you even trying to do on the battlefield? 

— Stay still, ja? 

— Too much! Please, n…no more…

— Poor thing. You’ll feel so much better after I add the third one. 

He knows that he is overstepping a bit, that your body isn’t used to taking something as big as his tentacles – but König also knows that his pre-cum makes you feel dizzy warm. Acting like a natural aphrodisiac, you won't be able to resist relaxing under him. The lubricant is enough to allow his other tentacle to force himself in your ass – he isn’t going to breed that hole yet, but it doesn't mean that he can’t use it. 

He groans loudly when your asshole clenches around him – he had to stretch you quite a bit, that sweet numbness of his precum isn’t making you relaxed enough to take him whole, but he is managing, one agonizing centimeter after another. At the point you’re out of breath, with your face all flushed, he already knows he fucking won – he knows that you, poor, fragile thing, isn’t going anywhere. He would say that he feels horrible about forcing you like this – but this is the start of a new, better life for you. Being the bride of a monster of his rank is a dream for any lowly human like you. Can go as far as to say you’re lucky he ever laid his eyes on you. 

— Stop, please…’s too much. 

— You feel good, Katzen. Relax, and you’ll be even better. 

— I don’t…please, just let me go, I…

— Is this your first time with a monster? 

— Yes. 

— Gut. Would break you in for me. 

He laughs at your whimpers, his hand goes to cradle your face in an almost soft expression. He gently presses his fingers across your skin, making you all nice and warm for him – he wants to kiss you all over, but the only thing he can do in his more monstrous form is to press one of his shorter tentacles against your lips, mocking the way normal people kiss. You sob, but he presses the tip on your mouth, passing it through your teeth – you would feel better after ingesting his pre-cum, can even clench around him so more, chasing your own pleasure. 

König wants you to feel good, so he presses his hand against your face, allowing you to tremble and cry as much as you want. He wants to be nice to you, so his other hand presses on your clit, finding the tense bud and breaking the nothingness between your legs. You tremble even more when he starts to spread your folds around his fingers, both of his tentacles working to milk your holes and spread you as much as possible. 

He whispers sweet nothings in your ear when both of the tendrils working on your pussy suddenly change their direction – they start to spread your walls instead of just fucking it. You feel exposed and vulnerable, he can see the pink flesh and glossiness of your cunt. It’s embarrassing for you, and he knows it – but god, you’re too fucking perfect to pass. 

You don’t even manage to ask him what he is doing when you feel something much larger pressing against your pussy. The biggest of his tentacles – almost as thick as an arm, pushing inside of you. He had a purpose, a desire to do something with you that you could never understand – silly humans know nothing about his biological need to push his eggs somewhere, of course, but you’re just fucking perfect. Too perfect to pass on this opportunity. 

You plead and cry when he presses further, a little bump on your tummy is obvious now, with each centimeter of his tendril pushing. When he finally bottoms inside of you, pressing directly against your cervix, you are too fucked out to even think. 

It’s painful, you think. Three thick tentacles roam inside your pussy, pushing and grinding against your gummy, tight walls – and another one of his extensions in your ass, writhing and massaging your insides. 

It’s pleasurable, you feel. The tentacles are uneven, cold, each little bump makes you cry out from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling is something you could never achieve with a normal dick. He cradles your face and chuckles softly when you moan and cry at the same time when he gently presses his red tendril against your soft lips, and you part them because you don’t want to resist anymore. Because you can’t resist anymore. 

— So good for me. Such a good girl, liked being fucked by the enemy. 

— I don’t like it! He laughs at your misery, pushing his tentacles back only to fuck you harder. He can feel the tension multiply in his stomach – he feels the movement of eggs forming from inside and pushing down the biggest one of his tendrils. 

When you first feel the pressure of an egg in your pussy, you want to scream. 

You scratch on his hands like a wild cat, clenching on him like crazy. If he didn’t see horror and shock on your face, he’d think you wanted him. You are tight, tighter than you were before – your pussy is closing around him, not letting him go, and he can only smile to himself when he feels every little bump sending electric shocks right into your core when you feel his eggs traveling from the start of his tendrils down, to your soft, welcoming womb. 

God, you will look perfect, all swollen and helpless – he can bring you a fucking collar, maybe push you on his lap and parade you as his precious wife for everyone to see. His scent lingers on your body, no matter if you want it or not. Silly human, you try to fight him like you didn’t lose the moment you let him pin your body. So perfect, he thinks of where you were before he found you. How many partners do you have, and how well would you play the role of his little breeding machine.

 He massages your tummy, with each egg taking its place in your womb. Soothes tense skin and whispers sweet promises in your ear when you cry and try to push him away. So perfect, so sweet for him – he doesn’t know the fuck he lived without you. 

When the last egg takes its place, making you bulge from all the weight inside of you, he can finally calm himself down enough to bring his human form partially. When he finally retracted his tentacles from your tired, sensitive body, not forgetting to press against your clit a good few times to prolong your unwanted, exhausting orgasm, he could finally press a kiss on your lips. 

You’re a mess – torn clothes, covered in cum and thick transparent slime, trembling and crying softly. You close your pussy around every one of his eggs like a good girl, and he knows you would be a perfect mating partner – but god, you need a good shower and soft mattress so he can try to fuck you again in his human form, and steal all the hugs and silly affections he wanted. 

— Will you let me go? 

He laughs, picking you up swiftly. So fragile in his hands, he doesn’t even want to think about letting you roam freely. 

— Of course not, Schatzen. Just get used to it, ja? 

[aftonsparv-bugzz]

:33 < iHATE having to fight EVERYTHING for the SMALLEST amount of representation in this community. therians get SO MUCH representation in this community, nobody talks of objectkins, or fictionkins, or plantkins, or conceptkins, or elemental kins, or space/voidkins, or songkins, or LITERALLY. ANY. "UNCOMMON". ALTERHUMAN IDENTITY. it is SO UNFAIR ON THE REST OF THE COMMUNITY THAT WE LITERALLY HAVE TO FIGHT TOOTH AND NAIL JUST TO GET THE SMALLEST REPRESENTATION IN THIS COMMUNITY. WE NEVER GET TALKED ABOUT. EVER. (also, ihave NOTHING against therians. iam one. but iwont post about it because iwant to fight for representation of "uncommon" kins.)

:33 < shout out to alterhumans/non humans with NO kin identity, just saying they arent human. youdont "need" to have an identity and fit into a box. youre perfect just the way you are.

:33 < shout out to plantkins. every single plant/fungi. from the DEADLIEST venus fly traps to the BRIGHTEST boquet of roses. have a fresh ray of sunlight to beam upon you, youre shining so much its insane.

:33 < shout out to all the objects. whether it be a small eraser, or your favourite plushie, youre still valid, and awesome, and soooo cool /gen

:33 < shout out to elemental kins. burning fire, cold breezes of wind, all elements. the most HURTFUL, DEADLIEST elements to the ones that arent so dangerous. your kintype is never too dangerous for me. keep living life the way youwould

:33 < shout out to fictionkins. the weirdest characters, the "prettiest" characters, your favourite characters, your hated characters, your least favourite characters, characters from an uncommon source or from a common source, all of you.

:33 < shout out to songkins. from the strangest, most unusual melodies, to the songs everyone knows. you are the most beautiful, melodic songs ever. you keep being you bro.

:33 < shout out to placekins. youre a little cottage in the woods ? thats awesome. youre that corner shop down the street ? so cool. youre massive theme park, with flashing lights and fireworks and everything ? genuinely so amazing.

:33 < shout out to daykins/monthkins/seasonkins/yearkins. all the several days, seasons, months passing by us is so beautiful to watch

:33 < shout out to number/letter kins. all the numbers formed to make mathematics, all the letters we have in languages today, all so beautiful

:33 < shout out to spacekins. all the stars, cosmos, voids, even those who identify with being space as a whole. so beautiful.

:33 < shout out to conceptkins. strangest concept to comprehend, the easiest concepts, idont care. yall are amazing.

:33 < and shout out to any "unusual" or "uncommon" kintype ihavent mentioned.

:33 < yall are SO BEAUTIFUL !!

:33 < if you identify with an "uncommon kintype" PLEASE interact with this blog iwant more cool people to follow /nf

:33 < and if you are a therian blog iwould hope you to repost this so youcan show awareness for other kintypes in this community. (but youdont have to !! idont mind if youdont, do not worry !! :3 its perfectly ok with me not to reblog it, I understand why you wouldnt !! :33)

:33 < /nf

[seungfl0wer]

Bangchan As Your Boyfriend

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut 🩵

•He’s such a cute, giggly, bushy mess. He’s so giddy about everything.

•Finds everything you do just so damn cute.

•One of his favorite things is when you get to talking about something you love.

•The way you’re so excited about it just makes him smile while listing.

•The sparkle in your eyes just makes his heart do flips.

•Another thing he absolutely just melts at is you in his clothes.

•He finds it so cute and attractive just seeing you in his shirts/hoodies.

•The day he finds you all curled up in bed in his hoodie snuggling up to his pillow.

•Ugh man feels like his heart is on fire.

•He’s such a sweet Clingy man.

•Wants to always be touching you in some way.

•Is he slightly possessive or is he just doing loving boyfriend things?

•The answer is yes. Yes to both.

•He always has a hand on you. Either on your thigh, holding your hand, touching your arms. Anything.

•He’s very thoughtful.

•Remembers all the things you tell him.

•So when he’s traveling and sees your favorite animal, snack or favorite character in that one show you guys binge watched.

•He’s buying it for you.

•Speaking of buying things.

•Loves buying you both matching clothes.

•Finds it so adorable.

•He’s getting you both a whole wardrobe of couple outfits.

•Just loves showing you off.

•Talks non-stop about you.

•”y/n loves those!” “Omg those are y/ns faves!”

•“Y/n and I come here all the time” “y/n did this funny thing today”

•Plans out time for his schedule to make sure he has time to spend with you.

•Does in fact cry when he’s away from you for too long.

•He gets you to wear one of his hoodies for a while before leaving so he can snuggle it.

•Also cries into that.

•He’s just so head over heels for you it hurts being away for so long.

•When he does eventually come home.

•He’s all over you.

•You’re not leaving his sight for at least a week straight.

•He’s gonna be glued to you.

•Arms wrapped around you.

•Telling you how much he missed you. How much he wants to take you to the places he was.

•Giving you all the things he found for you.

•Also apologizing for leaving you for so long.

•Which you always playfully smack him telling him

•“I don’t mind, I knew when we started dating this would happen. At least at the end of everything you come back to me.”

•Your words always bringing tears to his eyes.

•Mans has a whole folder of songs he’s made for you.

•There’s some he’s shown you but a lot are special.

•For special occasions like birthdays/anniversaries.

•He also has a whole folder of pictures/videos of you.

•A lot. A LOT. Of unflattering ones.

•Has those saved in a special folder so you can’t delete them.

•He thinks they’re cute but you think they’d be perfect blackmail material.

•He really enjoys your input on things.

•Music, style, life. He really likes to hear what you have to say.

•Always checks up on you, just simple “did you eat today?” Or “Did you drink water?”

•Sends the sweetest good morning texts

•And you know something?

•The spark yall have never dies.

•The longer you date, the more he knows he’s gonna marry you.

•He falls more and more in love with you every day.

•Truly heart eyes for you constantly.

•Chan is really just the best, he’s so caring, compassionate and just.. the man you want forever with.

•And nothing would make you happier than to spend that forever with him.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•As loving as he is normally that transfers to love making.

•And that’s what it is.

•Love making.

•He’s so sensational, and passionate.

•You both definitely sit down and talk about what you both like.

•Chan always wants to make sure you’re comfortable.

•But god does he just lose control sometimes.

•His mind goes as he’s fucking you.

•He looks like a dog with his tongue basically hanging out.

•The noises he makes are so hot-

•This man’s vocal on a daily you think he’s not in bed?

•If he’s not making noises he’s talking.

•Big into talking.

•”Baby, you feel so good” “ah you’re taking me so good”

•”My love your milking my cock-“ “you’re so good for me baby”

•Ugh-

•Definitely loves interlocking hands.

•He can get a little rough sometimes.

•Spanking, Choking, hair pulling, probably has a daddy kink.

•I said what I said.

•We all know he does-

•He’s such a softy though.

•Soft dom for sure

•Always. Always makes sure you cum.

•You could have been an absolute brat.

•And yeah he’s gonna punish you but honestly.

•He’s gonna let you cum.

•Even if he says he won’t.

•He will.

•He always does.

•Also listen-

•This man’s going down on you often.

•So often.

•He just can’t get over how you sound.

•Can’t get over how you look when his tongue is lapping at your hole.

•Really just drives him crazy.

•So much aftercare. Ugh dude-

•Cleans you up, cuddles you, gets you a snack and a drink.

•”You did so well baby” “it’s ok baby I’m here I’m not going anywhere ever. I love you”

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[cowboyfromh3ll]

you said to do headcannons right?

can you do sex headcannons for the members of the gang? Only ones you're comfortable with obv. Personally, I don't care much for Micah (I want to set him on fire) so feel free to leave him out if you don't feel like writing for him

But the usual Dutch, John, Javier, Arthur, Charles, and anybody else you feel like are just perfect. I love your writing, so I'm excited to see your take on these

<3

Sex HC Ft. Van Der Linde Gang

(Dutch Van Der Linde, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Sean Macguire, Sadie Adler)

I should write for the girls more

Warnings: Smut, duh

Dutch Van Der Linde

He probably loves roleplaying

Pretending he's the outlaw and you're the officer punishing him

But most times he loves being in control of you, thinks it's so attractive when you submit completely to him and become his pliable little servant

Likes it when you wear expensive jewelry and gifts he buys you with nothing else on

Definitely wants you to call him Sir

Says the most poetic and flowery things to you during

Probably enjoys receiving but LOVES giving head. Views it as another way to take control

Quickies with him are non existent. To him, sex and intimacy are an art, and he will take his time with every little detail and aspect of it

Enjoys playful brattiness, definitely a brat tamer

I can see him being into BDSM. Ball gags, leather crops, leashes, blindfolds, etc

John Marston

Super messy, super rough, super desperate

Pussy eating pro. I'm talking mind blowing, back arching, toe curling, sheet gripping head. ALWAYS asks if he can go down on you

Acts like every time you two have sex will be the last

On the contrary though, I feel like he'd be into edging

Also doesn't mind letting you be dominant, he has such submissive energy

Mayhaps a mommy kink, because I can also see him calling you mommy

Would let you tie him up, totally at your mercy

He loses any semblance of shame, will beg, cry, whimper, you name it

Could consent to just about anything, if you tell him to bark he'll bark

Gets carried away when during sex sometimes, just gets absolutely drunk from pleasure

Javier Escuella

Incredibly romantic and passionate

He can fuck, but he can also make love

So much sexual stamina, and makes every time you have sex absolutely unforgettable

Loves to make sure you are as comfortable as possible and feel as though you have enough privacy. Even if it means paying for a hotel, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort

But if you wanna have risky public sex he's more than willing to as well lmao

Holds you and whispers how much he loves you while he thrusts slowly

But if y'all are fucking he'll say the filthiest shit he can conjur up in his mind while thrusting as hard and fast as he can

Slaps and grips anything he can hold onto

Overwhelms all of your senses and stimulates you in multiple ways at once

Loves cumming inside you but if not inside then on your torso or face

Arthur Morgan

Loves putting his whole weight on you when y'all fuck

Just simply pinning you down with the size of him drives him crazy

Is such a gentleman even during sex. Always stops and asks how you are and if you like how he's doing

Insists you don't have to go down on him but secretly loves it when you do

His favorite positions are ones where you're totally helpless like mating presses or locking your arms behind you

Whenever he fucks you from behind he wraps his massive arm around your neck. Idly squeezes down on your neck

Enjoys sex totally naked, makes it feel more intimate exposing yourselves fully to each other

But he loves it if you wear cute outfits for him just so he can take it off you

But he absolutely loves quickies. Complains they're too risky but every time you suggest one he's unbuckling his belt before you can finish your sentence

Definitely does the knee thing

Charles Smith

He is a pure giver. You will always cum at least 3 times or else he won't feel like he did a thorough job.

Will ignore his own aching cock as long as he can see you squirm in ecstasy

Your pleasure is his pleasure

Doesn't care if he doesn't get to cum tbh

Definitely aware of his size and uses it to his advantage if you're into that

Cages you in his arms, holds you down, puts you in choke holds, etc

I feel like he'd be pretty vanilla and you'd be the one to bring kinks to the table if anything. Will honestly do most anything you want if it brings you pleasure

Soft but firm touches, like every touch is done with intent and thought

Type to make out with you for hours without any actual stimulation and be content. Will see you off with the bluest balls.

Lenny Summers

He's still pretty young so I believe his experience would be limited

You two are probably eachother's first everythings, atleast you're his

Probably cums real fast but makes up for it with enthusiam

Will try out so many things with you, the two of you will both bring ideas to the table

Tries to start things off slow but his excitement gets the best of him

SO MUCH communication and talking during (feedback, jokes, etc...)

Very forward with his needs

Asks for hand/blow jobs a lot to blow off some steam

Very fast learner, and probably very risky

I feel like he'd ask to finger you a lot in risky situations

There's been instances where he just forgets foreplay altogether and just wants to go at it

Kieran Duffy

Submissive as hell

Definitely whimpers

Let's you take the lead 99% of the time

Will cum within five minutes max, and it really takes it out of him

Super sensitive literally everything. Touch him anywhere and he's blushing and squirming

Loves it if you wrap your thighs around his head

That being said, enjoys face sitting

Feels reassured when you tell him what to do and help him in the process

Hands roam all over you, it's like he can't fathom that you're a real being that's actually doing this with him

Eyes roll back and his face goes red when he cums. He's super embarassed about it

Micah Bell

SO rough. Drags you into position and commands you to do certain things

Likes slapping, hair pulling, spitting, I feel like he'd even be into piss. All of the above would go both ways for him.

Hate sex with him goes crazy ong. And after arguments? Just fucking all your anger away

Into degrading for sure

Sex is definitely the best emotional release for the both of you without actually hurting eachother

He's into marks. That entails scratches, bites, bruises

Make him bleed, literally beat the shit out of him during sex and he'll let it slide

Sex is a constant battle for dominance

Probably makes you do embarassing things for him like bark

Also puts you in obscene and embarassing positions just for his own pleasure

If anyone ever heard y'all have sex they'd think it sounds more like an argument and a fist fight than love making

Sean Macguire

The goofiest man during sex, not even intentionally either. He'll say the stupidest thing you've ever heard with his whole chest and you'll have to ask if he's serious

"You ready for the Macguire special?"

Loud ass moans, cannot contain them. If you're into public sex you better either prepare to be caught or mentally prepare yourself for the influx of scoldings/questions that'll come later

LOVES playful brattiness or when you want to take control. He's all for it

Has fantasies of being woken up with head

Will do the same for you in return if that's what it takes to enact his fantasies

Also into roleplay but way cornier shit like you're a nurse and he's a patient. Indulges in costumes as well

Drunk sex is the best because it's combining two of his favorite things

Sadie Adler

Also definitely does the knee thing...

Genuinely one of the sweetest and more passionate lovers, and it will translate during sex

Super gentle and passionate

Lot's of "I love you"s exchanged

Never any space between you, your limbs constantly intertwined as you kiss and move against eachother

Either of you can take the role as dom, it doesn't matter to her

Smiles the whole time out of pure adoration for you

Can be super sultry and kinky when the time calls for it though

Not opposed to being a little rougher but I can't see her going too far with that

Thinks you're far too delicate and special to be treated in such a way

[sectumsempraaa]

Send Him My Regards

Pairing: fem!reader x idk they’re all in love with you LOL, but Draco's down bad

Summary: You aren’t one to provoke the aggressive nature of your closest friend group (a bunch of reckless Slytherin boys) but when the new hire at your favorite bookstore makes you uncomfortable, you’re forced to ask for their… “help.”

Word Count: 2.5k

Featuring: The whole damn crew. Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Pansy, Blaise, Lorenzo

TW: Implied non-consensual touching/comments, implied violence, panic/mental distress, cursing, disgustingly fluffy

Notes: This is based on something I recently experienced, as many of you have, too. I tried my best to convey my very real thoughts on this matter. Avoiding threatening men is a constant, everyday struggle. If you can relate, this is for you.

“Love, you already own every book in the world.” Draco proclaims, staggering behind you with his pack of Slytherin watch dogs.

Whenever you go anywhere as a group, they always let you lead so they can keep an eye on your surroundings. You think it’s silly, but it’s their thing, and you secretly appreciate the protection, so you let them be. It makes them feel important, and you find it endearing.

“I most certainly do not! Only like… two hundred.” You respond, muttering the number under your breath.

“Then I’ll buy you every book in the world. Must we come here every weekend?” he groans. Of course, Mattheo interrupts, shooting Draco a furrowed brow.

“Mate, for the love of god, either stop coming on these trips, or use some of that fancy cash you love to go on about to take us elsewhere. Pick one.” Mattheo sneers. Naturally, he’s carrying your bag and coat, making sure you never lift a finger. His response earns a smirk from you.

You’re not really listening though, more so taking in the beauty of Hogsmeade. You love escaping the castle for the little town on perfect, brisk days like this one, hitting everyone’s favorite shops and downing a couple of butterbeers.

The boys continue arguing in the background as you make your way down the cobblestone street, your hair blowing softly in the chill of the November breeze. Blaise and Theo share an eye roll with each other before coming to your side, leaving the two to bicker as they trail behind. Theo steps in, heaving a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. His words drip with that rich Italian accent.

“Ignore them, bella. We’ll wait for you outside.” You smile at him and he gives you a wink. A man of few words, but oozing with charm. He will occasionally act as a grounding force when the others get rowdy. You hear Draco drag on about how he “earned” his money or whatever.

“Oh wow, a real rags to riches story!” Mattheo shouts, lunging at Draco. You shake your head laughing with Blaise, sending you a look that reads as “I’ll take care of them.” You enter the bookshop, making the bell ring as the door opens.

The first thing you notice is the shiny new display of fantasy books you’ve been dying to get your hands on. You make your way towards it, not being able to contain the thrill on your face. You’ve been waiting for this series to restock and here they are, all of them, ready to be yours. You touch the smooth covers, tracing your fingers over the author’s name on each one.

The second thing you notice is… him. Your heart drops as your sheer excitement instantly morphs into dread.

Please, not again. 

The new hire at this bookstore has ruined the last couple of trips for you. You were hoping he would stop working weekends but… there he is. And he eyes you right away, like you’re on his radar.

The first time you came in, it was the comments. Calling you pet names, pointing out his favorite features on you, and it was relentless. You somehow got through it and attempted to shake it off, praying he would quit or just get fired before your next trip.

The second time, it was the touching. Brushing against your back when trying to “get through”, his hand grabbing your arm too tightly while he led you down an aisle. You tripped on your way out while trying to make a swift escape, and of course he was there to “catch you”, only giving him an excuse to grip both hands around your waist, hesitant to release you.

Your eyes go between the book display and his movements as he starts creeping his way out from behind the counter. You have to make a split-second decision to either stay and endure, or leave safely and empty handed. It pains you but your nerves heighten as he gets closer. Panic sets in as colors blur and sounds become muffled. Your brain and your body and your heart scream together in unison: “danger.”

You burst through the door back outside with a speed and force that could only be conjured by your anxiety. Facing the door, you stumble backwards and let out a gasp when you land in someone’s familiar arms. You recognize the brown suede material of Theo’s jacket as you attempt to catch your breath. It seems no amount of oxygen could suffice at the moment.

“Bella, bella, what’s wrong?” He asks urgently, hoisting you back up to your feet. The others notice the incident and immediately stride their way over. Draco, always leading the pack, puts his hands on your shoulders and lowers his eyes to your level.

“Hey, look at me,” he coos, forcing you out of your episode. He speaks with a tenderness that is almost heartbreaking. “What happened, love? Are you quite alright?”

There’s too many thoughts and feelings swimming around in your head to give an honest answer. Everything is moving in slow motion and you need time to regroup. Swallowing your fear, you decide to lie, at least for now. The last thing you want to do is impulsively encourage their hostility.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you respond, avoiding his gaze. He looks at you, deciding whether to believe you. “Really, I am.” You add. He glances down to your empty hands.

“You left without a book. You always buy a book.” He says, speaking with suspicion in his voice. The others stay back, knowing when to give Draco his space. They all adore you, but Draco would do things you’d rather not think about in order to keep you happy and safe. And he has. It’s been like this since you can remember. 

“Just didn’t have what I wanted, is all.” You explained. The doubt on his face is evident. He speaks just above a whisper.

“Y/N, you know we would take care of anyone that so much as breathes near you wrong, yeah? It’s important to me that you know this.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Mattheo ditching his cigarette and cracking his knuckles. You give a small nod and a shrug, releasing yourself from his hands and walking back in the direction of the castle. Your head is still reeling, but not enough to block out the boys’ debriefing behind you.

First, Mattheo. “She rarely ever gets like that.”

Then Theo. “Only when she panics.” And Blaise. “Her face was almost as pale as Malfoy’s.”

And Draco, but with a tinge of hurt in his voice. “She barely looked at me.” He glances in your direction, contemplating. “Give her time. We’ll look after her tonight. Someone tell Pansy.”

The rest you don’t hear, feeling embarrassment creeping in. You wish they’d just let it go and forget about it, cowering from the attention it’s bringing to you. Your pace quickens as the heat spreads across your cheeks, eager to be alone in your hideout at the castle.

Too focused on your path, you slam into someone’s chest as they’re coming out of the bakery you’re passing.

“Ugh, Lorenzo, I’m so sorry,” you say frantically, smoothing out his jacket and moving past him, never meeting his gaze. His face contorts with confusion and concern. He watches you take off then turns back to the group.

“Something off with that one...” The boys give him a knowing look.

“No shit, Berkshire.” Mattheo sneers.

—

After what felt like an eternity, you had reached the castle and darted to your hideout: a corner balcony high up in one of the towers facing the pitch. Leaning your elbows on the edge of the balcony, you watch the sun slowly descend into its eventual bed of twilight. Then, the spiraling begins.

Thinking back, you’ve never really dealt with something like this because of who your friends were. No one dared to even step too close to you, aware of what the consequences would be. But you weren’t on school grounds this time. You felt… unprepared. Lost. Violated. Guilty.

Does running away make me weak?

Why can’t I stand up for myself?

How did he gain control so quickly?

Did I ask for it? Did I do something wrong?

This is too much. It feels ridiculous and quite frankly enraging that you considered this being your fault. The stress is exhausting.

You let yourself relax, laying down on a stone bench and staring up at the black night sky. You start to mentally identify the stars in view, something Draco taught you to do when you’d get anxious. It always worked, as evident by the many hours you fell asleep. Upon awakening, you gasp as your watch reads 1AM.

You hear footsteps rustling around nearby, and echoing voices calling your name. Shit. They’re looking for me.

Sneaking around corners, you tiptoe around, trying not to get yourself noticed. Maybe, just maybe you can get back to the dungeons without getting caught. Until you hear the voice of your best friend, who admittedly, you could really use right now.

“Pans?” You whisper, catching a glimpse of her shadow down the corridor. Her head whips around before running to you urgently.

“Where the hell have you been?! The boys are going mad looking for-” She stops abruptly when you force yourself into her arms, hugging her tight and burying your face in her shoulder. Her tone softens to that of an older sister. “Oh, Y/N,” She rubs your back while your eyes well up.

“Fuck, Pans, I don’t know what to do.” You say through subtle sobs, holding back as much as you can for her sake. She looks at you with a questioning look before your words stumble out, caked in distress.

“There’s a boy at the bookstore, MY bookstore, and-and, and he’s there all the time now, following me around, and…”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re okay. It’s just me, sweetie.” She says, running a hand through your hair as her eyes shift to someone behind you; their voice deep, slow, and filled with angst.

“There’s… a… what?” He asks, the voice you recognize as Draco’s ringing off the walls. Mattheo, Theo, and Blaise walk into frame behind him when they realize he found you. The sight of them strikes you; your fiercely loyal group of friends that would go to the ends of the earth for you. To your surprise, you are relieved to see them.

But their anger is palpable. Draco’s jaws clenched tight. Theo’s heavy eyes claiming the darkness. Blaise’s hands rolled into fists. Lorenzo steps forward, eyes soft, holding out a gentle hand. 

“Let’s get you to the common room, and you can tell us-” he turns to the other boys before emphasizing his next words, “-what you’re comfortable with, if you want to talk at all.”

You nod in agreement, taking his hand while Pansy takes your other one. In your head, you’re thanking whatever higher power put Lorenzo on this planet. The voice of reason amidst all chaos.

—

It’s nearly 2AM now. You’re sat on the common room couch in front of the blazing fireplace under a mess of blankets, warming up after your frigid nap. Theo on your left, Lorenzo on your right holding your tea, Draco and Mattheo sitting on the coffee table facing you, with Blaise and Pansy on the floor. All with mixed looks of curiosity, empathy, and sheer rage.

After thinking it over, you decided to prioritize yourself for once. A lot of people don’t realize how hard a decision that can be. This is a risky favor to ask for. But there’s only a couple truly precious things in the world you can’t live without, and this is one of them. You want your fucking bookstore back.

So, you tell them. Everything.

As you recall the events of the last few weeks, you feel the air become tense. Blaise looks like he’s about to combust. Theo reaches for your hand, letting you fiddle with the bracelet on his wrist. You hear Pansy call this boy every name in the book under her breath, your favorite being “bastardly filth”. Draco and Mattheo listen, periodically looking at each other with knowing stares, having their own wordless conversation. You know those looks. Plotting looks.

When you finish, you’re briefly met with silence, temporarily paralyzing you. Do they believe me?

You break the stillness. “I suppose I’m making a big deal out of something quite trivial.” You say to them, diminishing your story, and for what?

Mattheo stands up, ushering Blaise and Pansy out of the way as he kneels in front of you. He rests a comforting hand on your knee, his eyes glowing with brutal honesty.

“It’s really very simple, little dove. You’re in danger, we take down the threat. I can assure you we all agree that your safety is anything but trivial.” He states. He gives your knee a squeeze. “Gonna be honest though, Y/N. It’s going to be ugly for him when he meets us.”

You look up to Draco, who’s been oddly quiet since you all got back. You hold his gaze as you respond.

“Good. Send him my regards.” You reply, earning a wicked grin from him, his eyes suddenly crinkled and brimming with pride. Everyone shifts a bit in their seats, wrapping up the late night discussion.

Draco strides over to you, taking the teacup from your hands and setting it down on a side table. He looks so handsome like this, facing you on the couch with his hair disheveled and the top of his shirt buttons undone. The glow from the fire accenting his features, so sharp yet yearning for sleep. He takes your face in his warm hands.

“I need you to hear me right now. Listening?” he asks. You give an unconvincing nod as his thumb caresses your cheek. Yes, but damn you make it hard to.

His stare intensifies, pulling you from your trance and forcing you to dial in to his statement.

“Never feel bad for wanting them to pay for the pain and discomfort they inflict on you. Their reasons were senseless, yours are justified.”

For the first time tonight, just for a moment, you feel sure of yourself. You wrap your arms around him, pulling yourself closer, his body becoming your safe haven. His hands nestle you to his chest as you feel him place a kiss on the top of your head.

He loves you and you know it. He’ll wait for this to pass, for things to be right. He’ll wait for you to feel whole and secure again. And he’ll do whatever it takes to help you get you there, even if that means giving you space.

As Pansy sees the two of you off to bed, you repeat his sentiment to her. “My god, that bloody boy is down bad, and I mean bad, for you Y/N.”

Ascending the staircase to your dorm, you faintly hear Draco informing the boys of the plan.

“Tomorrow. Noon.” He demands. The boys nod. He pauses before adding another instruction.

“Oh, and we’re gonna need a bag. We’ve got books to bring home.”

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[dayasusays]

helloooo i hope you're fine:) can we have headcanons or one shot of husband bruce being jealous and overprotective with reader? smut pls 😮‍💨

HAWWO :3 SORRY FOR DELAY i’m completely fine tyyy!!! hope u’re too 💋

oh. OH… overprotective bruce… 🫣

i enjoyed writing this!!! really!!!

warnings ! — SMUT, headcanons, public sex (the restroom at his gala), fem!reader, husband!bruce wayne

summary ? — you made him jealous.

౿ . . ` ౨ৎ ENJOY 🦇

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who needs to keep you in his sights during his gala because otherwise he'll worry.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who only gets distracted for a couple minutes, but you already find someone to talk to.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who grits his teeth when he sees some guy put his arm around your waist and pull you closer. and you don't even resist; you don't push him away, but you keep laughing and occasionally throwing non-ambiguous glances at bruce. oh, he gets it.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who appears completely out of the blue behind your back, pulling you to him by the waist and whispering in your ear: “you have a new friend? how nice,” and leaves a brief kiss on your lobe while his head rests on your shoulder.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who knows you have your privacy, but right now he's unceremoniously invading it. and you love it.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who slowly pulls you towards the restroom and never for a second removes his hand from your waist.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who leaves a ton of wet kisses on your neck, pressing his strong chest against your back. he can't resist little nibbles because you seem to have completely forgotten that you're married. married to a jealous man who will always find a way to show you that you belong to him.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who keeps whispering in your ear: “have you forgotten your place, love? right next to me so everyone can see that you're my wife,” his palms move down to the slit of your dress and stroke the inside of your thigh, “look at you. you're so fucking beautiful that everyone wants you to be with them,” god, you've always been amazed at how good he is at speaking.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who always takes the time to fuck you whenever you decide to tease him. honey, you're playing with fire because he can fuck you anywhere, whether it's the batcave, the car, the restroom at a restaurant or his gala.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who doesn't waste any time when he enters you in one smooth thrust. you rest your hands on the sink, biting your lower lip and trying not to let out a loud moan, but he fills you so fucking well. “feels good, doesn't it? your husband's big cock inside,” bruce mutters, picking up the pace right away. he doesn't have time to mess around with you, my god, he has to go on stage in ten minutes to give a speech.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, holding you down while he fucks you. i mean, just look at him; it would be weird if he didn't. he'll never let you fall, holding you tight in his arms.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who takes exactly five minutes to bring you to orgasm. he knows the exact angle at which he hits your g spot with perfect force with each thrust, he knows what to say to make you clench around his cock even harder, he knows which places to kiss and bite to make you even more sensitive. your husband is a goddamn detective, and you both love and hate that fact.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who gives you a couple more thrusts, muttering angrily “he touched you so shamelessly and you did nothing,” his rough thrusts are almost torture because of your sensitivity after orgasm, “you won't get one more step away from me, princess, no one can touch you like that.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who always comes after you, biting your shoulder.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who tidies you up in seconds by fixing your hair, dress and underwear; doesn't bother to clean you because “consider it a punishment, sweetheart. back home i'll be sure to do something about it.”

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who smiles slightly at your grumbling about how uncomfortable you'll be because the feel of his semen on the fabric of your underwear, while exciting, is still uncomfortable.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who will leave a brief kiss on your forehead and remind you that you're the one who made him jealous.

“you do it every damn time.”

“and you still fall for it.”

“little brat… love you,” bruce pulls you closer, his fingers gripping your waist a little harder as you pull him in and kiss him.

⌗ — husband!bruce wayne, who spends the rest of the evening admiring the bites on your uncovered neck and shoulders. damn, he did it and he's so proud of himself. ��♡୧

🦇 abt me | m.list

[heritageposts]

how do i start to read marxist leninist/leftist stuff ? i searched on the internet but it’s super confusing lol

the most important value for me as an ML is anti-imperialism, so i guess i'll always recommend that people start with works centred on that

some suggestions below (all books should be available either on marxist.org or as pdf/epub files on libgen)

American Holocaust by David E. Stannard

about the colonization of america. not explicitly marxist, but it's probably done more to radicalize me than any other piece of writing. this is the pile of corpses capitalism is built on:

Within no more than a handful of generations following their first en counters with Europeans, the vast majority of the Western Hemisphere's native peoples had been exterminated. The pace and magnitude of their obliteration varied from place to place and from time to time, but for years now historical demographers have been uncovering, in region upon region, post-Columbian depopulation rates of between 90 and 98 percent with such regularity that an overall decline of 95 percent has become a working rule of thumb. What this means is that, on average, for every twenty natives alive at the moment of European contact-when the lands of the Americas teemed with numerous tens of millions of people-only one stood in their place when the bloodbath was over. To put this in a contemporary context, the ratio of native survivorship in the Americas following European contact was less than half of what the human survivorship ratio would be in the United States today if every single white person and every single black person died. The destruction of the Indians of the Americas was, far and away, the most massive act of genocide in the history of the world. That is why, as one historian aptly has said, far from the heroic and romantic heraldry that customarily is used to symbolize the European settlement of the Americas, the emblem most congruent with reality would be a pyramid of skulls. - David E. Stannard

2. Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism by Vladimir Lenin

Imperialism is capitalism at that stage of development at which the dominance of monopolies and finance capital is established; in which the export of capital has acquired pronounced importance; in which the division of the world among the international trusts has begun, in which the division of all territories of the globe among the biggest capitalist powers has been completed. - Vladimir Lenin

3. The Wretched of The Earth by Franz Fanon

Let us look at ourselves, if we can bear to, and see what is becoming of us. First, we must face that unexpected revelation, the strip-tease of our humanism. There you can see it, quite naked, and it’s not a pretty sight. It was nothing but an ideology of lies, a perfect justification for pillage; its honeyed words, its affectation of sensibility were only alibis for our aggressions. A fine sight they are too, the believers in non-violence, saying that they are neither executioners nor victims. Very well then; if you’re not victims when the government which you’ve voted for, when the army in which your younger brothers are serving without hesitation or remorse have undertaken race murder, you are, without a shadow of doubt, executioners. And if you chose to be victims and to risk being put in prison for a day or two, you are simply choosing to pull your irons out of the fire. But you will not be able to pull them out; they’ll have to stay there till the end. Try to understand this at any rate: if violence began this very evening and if exploitation and oppression had never existed on the earth, perhaps the slogans of non-violence might end the quarrel. But if the whole regime, even your non-violent ideas, are conditioned by a thousand-year-old oppression, your passivity serves only to place you in the ranks of the oppressors. - prefrace by Jean-Paul Sartre

4. Discourse on Colonialism by Aimé Césaire

Yes, it would be worthwhile to study clinically, in detail, the steps taken by Hitler and Hitlerism and to reveal to the very distinguished, very humanistic, very Christian bourgeois of the twentieth century that without his being aware of it, he has a Hitler inside him, that Hitler inhabits him, that Hitler is his demon, that if he rails against him, he is being inconsistent and that, at bottom, what he cannot forgive Hitler for is not crime in itself, the crime against man, it is not the humiliation of man as such, it is the crime against the white man, the humiliation of the white man, and the fact that he applied to Europe colonialist procedures which until then had been reserved exclusively for the Arabs of Algeria, the coolies of India, and the blacks of Africa I have talked a good deal about Hitler. Because he deserves it: he makes it possible to see things on a large scale and to grasp the fact that capitalist society, at its present stage, is incapable of establishing a concept of the rights of all men, just as it has proved incapable of establishing a system of individual ethics. Whether one likes it or not, at the end of the blind alley that is Europe, I mean the Europe of Adenauer, Schuman, Bidault, and a few others, there is Hitler. At the end of capitalism, which is eager to outlive its day, there is Hitler. At the end of formal humanism and philosophicrenunciation, there is Hitler - Aimé Césaire

5. Blackshirts and Reds: Rational Fascism and the Overthrow of Communism by Michael Parenti

probably the most accessible introduction to communism that doesn't demonize countries that have undergone—or attempted to undergo—a transitation into socalism (like the ussr, cuba, etc.)

The very concept of "revolutionary violence" is somewhat falsely cast, since most of the violence comes from those who attempt to prevent reform, not from those struggling for reform. By focusing on the violent rebellions of the downtrodden, we overlook the much greater repressive force and violence utilized by the ruling oligarchs to maintain the status quo, including armed attacks against peaceful demonstrations, mass arrests, torture, destruction of opposition organizations, suppression of dissident publications, death squad assassinations, the extermination of whole villages, and the like. - Michael Parenti

[carmenized-onions]

I Want To. | Wellness Check

logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.

[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third

portion; 4.7k+

possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)

we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.

Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.

Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.

But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.

...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?

He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.

He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.

It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”

“You do the Wordle?”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”

“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”

“…I like Connections.”

“I fuckin' hate Connections.”

“Alright, damn!”

The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.

“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”

He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.

When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”

He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”

He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.

‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’

You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.

‘When's the shift?’

‘6:30 to 12:30’

Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?

‘yeah i can reach’

‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’

You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—

“You make your own bread.”

“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.

“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”

“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.

“Fuck is this?”

“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”

“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”

“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...

“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”

He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”

"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."

"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"

"...I think it's fine."

“Fine?”

“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”

“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.

“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”

“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”

“Courtesy of me.”

“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”

“You’re very good, Carmen.”

“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”

It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.

You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.

“Itinerary for today?”

“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”

“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.

He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”

“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”

“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.

“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”

You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.

“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”

It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.

You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!

Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.

Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!

And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!

...

God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.

This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—

“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”

You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.

You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—

“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.

“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!

“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”

You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.

While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.

You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”

He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”

You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”

“Right to the point with you.”

“I hate suspense.” You shrug.

“You liked Mikey.”

What the fuck?

You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”

“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”

“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.

“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”

“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”

He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”

“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”

You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”

“You know ‘em?”

You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”

“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”

Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.

“I dunno, Uncle J…”

Oh.

28 unread texts from Syd.

3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.

9 missed calls from Syd.

Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…

You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”

He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”

“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”

“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”

“I like to think ahead.”

“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.

“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”

He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”

“I remember what I'm told.”

His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”

“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”

“We’re acquainted.”

“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”

He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”

“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.

He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”

At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.

You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.

“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”

You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.

“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”

“What?!”

“That’s what fucking code blue means!”

“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”

“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.

“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?

“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”

You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.

“…Did—Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you called an ambulance?”

There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”

Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”

“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.

“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”

“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”

“That’s what they all do.”

“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”

“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”

“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”

You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.

“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.

You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?

“Alright— Relax—”

“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”

 “Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin’ me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”

“Everyone shut the fuck up!”

You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.

“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”

Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”

You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”

“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.

“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”

“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”

A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.

“It looks tight.”

There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.

“It is.”

He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”

“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”

He nods. He takes a second but he nods.

You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.

You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”

“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”

You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.

“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”

“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”

“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”

When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”

There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”

You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”

She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.

You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.

...

“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”

“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“Who?”

“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.

“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”

“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”

“Not help—fu—ll.”

“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”

“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”

You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”

She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.

“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”

She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”

You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.

You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.

You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”

You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”

You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”

“I can’t— Move.”

“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”

She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.

“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.

You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.

You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.

“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”

She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”

“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”

“Condescending as fuck?”

“Yes, exactly, can you?”

“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.

You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”

“Why do I—”

“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”

He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”

You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”

Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”

“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”

They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”

“Yes, Chef!”

You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.

He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”

“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”

He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.

But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”

He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.

“Yes, Chef.”

I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.

I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.

And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!

Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3

Next Part

[bel1ewrites]

Booth Five (Sam Carpenter x Reader)

A/n: Here's another one, love you guys.

WC: Idfk

Warnings: smut, top!Sam, bossyish!reader, slightly public sex, thigh riding, more thigh riding, Sam in fancy work clothes

NUMEROUS visits to her favorite place after a long, hard day of work had forced Sam's ears to grow accustomed to the deafening thunder of sensual music that pumped through the hazy club.

Ever since the very first week of her new life in the the city, Sam had made sure to become somewhat of a regular at The Vanity. She made sure to commit each and every worker to memory, even went out of her way to tip a little extra every visit. It was just who she was. She loved to pay attention, and she loved to be aware.

She did not, however, love to be confused.

From her spot on a cracked leather couch, she sits with a drink in her hand, the top few buttons of her shirt undone, and she watches you move. The colored lights run over your body like waves on a shore, black lace the only thing stopping you from being fully exposed. It's euphoric, the way you move. It's familiar and free, icy hot. Sam takes a pull of her drink.

------

"You've got a private booking, honey," your boss calls as you fuss with your hair in the vanity mirror. She's a firecracker of a woman, short and curvy. The voice of a smoker mixed with the tone of a caretaker. "Booth five."

It hadn't taken you long to understand the inner workings of your place of employment. Annoyingly, nothing was ever straightforward, and booth five was not an exception to this rule.

You'd learned that an hour with one of the dancers in booth five had to cost more than your rent; which, albeit, didn't say much. It was the coldest spot in the whole club, nothing but dark red walls and a single black couch, and you couldn't really tell if it was the air vents or the dark aura that made you shiver when you passed it.

This is the first time anyone has requested for you to be in there.

"Um," your voice is steady as you turn around, smoothing a hand over non existent fabric out of nervous habit, "Is it cool if Amber takes this one?"

A beat passes.

"The patron requested for it to be you." If she notices the way your heart drops, she doesn't mention it. Only smiles crookedly and nods, effectively dismissing you from the comfort of being alone.

The beat of your heart doubles that of the music as you walk out of the room, a little unsure and a little irratic. Your heels feel too tall, your chest too tight.

Dancing was different. Dancing didn't bring forth any unwanted social interaction. Sure, there was the occasional creep, but they never really bothered you much when you could tune them out with thoughts of being beneath your covers with hot Chinese food and your cat curled up on your lap.

This was intimate. This was private and there was really no practical way of getting out of it.

You're sure you're going to pass out when you reach the outside of the booth, nothing but a thin curtain separating you from the unknown man waiting inside. Is he married? Is he demanding? Does he expect anything more than a lap dance from you?

A job is a job, you remind yourself, breathing deeply once, twice before stepping inside.

The air is charged. Static pulses around you. So its a woman. There's a woman a few feet in front of you.

She sits there, back against the couch and legs spread like she owns the place, shirt slightly unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. She's tall and dark and has the look of someone who's grown accustomed to getting what she wants one way or another. Her eyes drop down your figure, lingering at certain parts unabashedly. They run over every inch of you slowly, methodically. She wets her lips.

"Hello." She speaks. Her voice is fire and ice. It's raspy and smooth, dark and calculated and so insanely perfect that it makes your ears ring a little.

It's your turn to say something, anything, really. You really do try to greet her, even open your mouth for a second before promptly shutting it again.

"It's reasonable to expect a greeting after one says hello, is it not?" Her brow raises. It seems that all it takes for you to gain your composure is a little confrontation.

You close the still open door and take a step forward, trapping a palpable tension in the room along with the sound of muffled music.

"Sorry about that, I just wasn't expecting... this." Amusement flashes in her eyes. "You weren't expecting a woman?" She questions, patting the space beside her and signaling for you to sit.

There's room for her to scoot over and create a comfortable amount of space between your bodies, but that doesn't seem like something she wants.

Your body moves without your mind's consent, "no, I wasnt," you answer, taking your seat.

She hums, the scent of her cologne wafting over you like a drug. "Disappointed?" she asks, bottom lip puffed out in a teasing pout.

The couch is cold beneath you, but that doesn't stop the fire from rushing to your cheeks. Nervously, you run a hand through your hair and smile, trying not to let her undeniable smoothness get in the way of yours.

"Oh, hardly," you let out a raspy huff of laughter and you can't help the way your eyes flit to her mouth.

A smirk tugs at her lips, pout dropping entirely. "Well aren't you fiery."

"Why did you ask for me?" you pry, gaze hooded.

"Why wouldn't I?" She questions, tone serious and eyes on yours. The air feels thick around you.

She truly is a beautiful woman, silky black hair and dark eyes surrounded by thick lashes. The muscles in her arms pull at the fabric surrounding them. You suddenly feel underdressed.

"Amber normally takes this booth," you offer truthfully.

Amber was a favorite amongst the club. She was all dark smiles and sinful moves. You appreciated her for her wit and ability to seem completely calm at all times; a skill you wish you had.

Her hand drops to the bare flesh of your upper thigh. "I didn't ask for Amber, did I?"

Sam had interacted with the girl numerous times. She'd been working here since that first night and was undoubtedly beautiful, but she didn't feel drawn to Amber like she did you. Her body didn't light up when she saw her like it did with you. You were different.

"What's your name?" you pry.

The heat of her gaze along with that of her palm on your thigh sends jolts down your spine. You can see the muscles in her jaw move as she grits her teeth, swallowing hard.

"Sam."

"Why did you ask for me?" you ask again, eyes on her dark and blown pupils. Your own gaze is hooded, lashes low as you look up at her.

She smiles wolfishly, teeth flashing. "Can't a girl want to get to know someone?"

"Well," you look down at her mouth, "I guess when you put it that way."

The air around you seemed to grow thick, tension lacing through it. Her aura was intoxicating, the way it consumed you so quickly, made you want to give her everything.

She hums, tightening her grip on your thigh, "For such a pretty girl you sure do ask a lot of questions," the words fall from her lips, tone low and dripping with want.

"Yeah?" You smile.

"Yes." She shoots back.

"Really?"

She ignores you, looking at you so intensely you almost think you did something wrong.

"Can I kiss you?"

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly but you can't help it. When she kisses you it's softer than you expect it to be, like she's testing the waters. Her hand runs up your thighs, teases its way to your hip and squeezes the flesh there. It makes your head spin and your heart race, heat settling in your lower stomach.

Teeth graze your bottom lip as she pulls back a little. "Come here," The woman breathes into your mouth. She guides you onto her lap, smiling and leaning further into the couch. You have to arch forward to kiss her again, something that isn't an accident on her part.

Hands grip at your waist, your hips, your ass. She's deepening the kiss like it's pushing life into her and she can't get enough. it's a needy, panting scene as her lips and tongue slide over yours.

She kisses you like you've never been kissed, skill and need intertwining into a moment that makes you dizzy. She's all soft lips and rough teeth, nipping and sucking and soothing.

The musky scent of her cologne messes with your head and you can't stop your hips from moving, seeking pressure to tame the heat inside of you.

She trails her lips down to your neck, hand pulling at your hair to tilt your head back. "That's it, baby," Sam coos, teeth scraping under your jaw, "use my leg." She shifts the two of you before you can do anything, moving you to straddle her thigh. Her lips latch onto a sensitive spot on your neck as she pushes her leg up and into you.

"Fuck," you gasp out, gripping her shoulders and arching further into her. The position gives her mouth easy access to your chest.

The fabric of your lace bra is easy for her to move to the side, baring your hardened nipple to her.

"You're so pretty," She groans beneath you, pressing her tongue to the sensitive bud.

Pleasure shoots through you and you suppress a moan at the feeling of her skilled mouth against you. She's pulling at your hips, guiding their movements as you rock into her. It's hard to remember where you are, how any of your coworkers can walk in if they want to. All you can think about is how muscular her leg is through her pants as it presses into your clit in just the right way, how strong her hands are as they grasp at your body like it's her lifeline.

It's almost embarrassing, how worked up this stranger has you. She's touching you like she knows your body, and you can feel your wetness soaking through your fabric. Truth be told, you'd been wet since she first spoke, voice smokey and addicting.

She sucks your tit into her mouth, tongue lashing at your nipple and you have to push her away before you get loud. She protests as you send her back to leaning against the couch, but ultimately keeps quiet when you bury your head in her neck to muffle your moans.

"That's it, just like that pretty girl," She whispers in your ear while you grind against her, leg rubbing your clit just right each time. "You sound so pretty."

Needy whines and sighs escape your throat, lips pressed to her neck while she pushes her thigh harder into you. She hums at the feeling, sound deep and rasped.

You would be disappointed in yourself for being so close this fast, and over the clothes no less, but you can't feel anything other than the pressure in your lower stomach building and building.

"It's so good," you admit breathily into her neck, nails digging into her upper back through the button up. You can feel the firm muscles there, and you can't help but picture them rippling as she fucks you.

"What's so good?" she asks like she already knows the answer.

Her voice sends you spiraling further, the almost taunting tone laced in her words. "The way you touch me."

She laughs lowly, "Oh? You close?" Her head turns as she presses a kiss to your cheek, you pull your head out of her neck and look her in the eyes.

"Use your hand," you order, grabbing her right wrist and dragging it towards where you want it.

The look that washes over her almost pushes you over the edge, the way she listens to your command and presses her fingertips to your clit.

The texture of the fabric rubbing against you feels overwhelmingly good, tension building in your body. You watch her with your eyes half open and your lips parted, watch as she drinks you in with her eyes.

Everything about her is skilled, the way she moves her hand in hard circles and pushes into you. Her free hand wraps around your neck gently and pushes you back a bit so that she can see more of you, your free nipple and the blush spreading across your chest. The action combined with the slight pressure on your neck makes your eyes roll back, a curse falling from your lips.

"Faster. Fuck, Sam," you tilt your head back and move with her hand, "I'm so close."

She listens so good, movements speeding up just how you asked. It feels so good, the warmth spreading throughout your body and coiling in your stomach. You're panting needily, orgasm rushing towards you, its presence overbearing.

"So bossy," She teases.

A slew of words grace your lips, body falling forward to mask the volume of your moans in the crook of her neck. She moves with precision, never once slowing down or faltering.

"Come on, baby," She urges, "cum on my hand."

It only takes a few more movements before you're doing just that, body tensing up and shuddering above her. The orgasm hits you like a bullet train and drags itself out, lasting longer than any other you'd ever had.

The feeling of her arm around your back, fingers still moving on your clit to guide you through makes it last longer. Her voice is in your head, grounding you as she whispers.

Her hand is gone from your clit and her neck is sweaty from the combined body heat by the time you pull back, shaking slightly. The reality of the situation doesn't hit you, just lingers in the back of your mind as you look at her.

"Hi," you say, hair sticking to your forehead slightly.

"Hi," She smiles sweetly back. "Sorry about the hickeys, I got a little carried away."

Your nipple hurts a little from the intensity with which she sucked at it, and you know your neck is riddled with marks.

"It's okay," you smile back, "but you'll have to be the one to let my boss know where they came from."

Her smile turns sheepish, though you can tell she doesn't regret leaving them. "Only if I can see you again," her arms tighten around your waist, lips brushing yours.

"Deal."

[illycanary]

What Aang’s Relationship With His Kids Tells Us About His Relationship With Katara

Bumi: “Oh, boo-hoo. Must've been real hard for you, flying around the world with dad, riding elephant-koi all day.”

Tenzin: “Oh, so that's what this is all about.”

Kya: “That's what it's always been about. You think you're some savior who has to carry on dad's legacy.”

Tenzin: “Who else is going to do it?”

Kya: “How about all of us?”

Bumi: “Yeah, we're Aang's kids too.”

The whole problem with this family is, Aang didn’t believe that.

Aang has a long, undeviating track record of never questioning anything he believes about the Air Nomads. Who the hell has a perfect and complete understanding of their society, government, international relations, education system, religion, morality, genetics, and reproduction at age 12? According to Aang? He does. 

The entire lynchpin of Aang’s Book 3 arc is all about how Air Nomads are pacifists and cannot ever under any circumstances harm a life. (We’re going to ignore the body count Aang’s already wracked up over the first two seasons for the sake of preserving his feelings because those were soulless NPCs or something.) 

And yet Aang never questions this…

Monk Gyatso’s bones surrounded by a pile of Fire Nation soldier bones. The picture doesn’t fit Aang’s image of Air Nomad peace and harmony, so he ignores it entirely. It NEVER comes up despite its overwhelming relevance to Aang’s internal conflict and the sorts of advice he seeks from authority figures in the third season (despite Monk Gyatso being the penultimate authority figure in Aang’s life).

Another thing Aang never questions?

There’s no such thing as a non-airbending Air Nomad. They’re just all born that spiritual. And spirituality is the golden key that unlocks bending. (Because Bryke said so.)

Despite Guru Pathik not being a bender. Despite the fact that Zhao, literal spirit murderer, is one. Despite Toph—the most un-spiritual, cynical, feet-on-the-ground-head-nowhere-near-the-clouds member of Aang’s friend group—being the most powerful bender of the lot. Despite Hama being a waterbender equal to none but Katara while completely cut off from her culture and turning her back on everything we believe about water bending’s inherent ties to community, connectedness, and love (Iroh’s words). Despite Azula mastering the god-tier lightning technique BECAUSE she’s practically dead inside and values life least of all things. Despite the fact that Princess Yue has the literal MOON SPIRIT THAT IS THE SOURCE OF ALL WATERBENDING living inside her, and yet she still somehow manages to not be a bender.

Despite the fact that Air Nomads roam all over the world, sewing their wilds oats throughout every nation, yet no airbending toddlers ever crop up in Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom preschools. 

Despite the fact that non-monogamous societies where men have multiple partners father more children and boost the population faster than in societies that favor “attached” relationships, yet the all-airbending Air Nomads still somehow have the smallest population of any ethnic group in the world. 

Despite the fact that Aang’s twin, Ty Lee, is RIGHT. THERE. with her unparalleled aura-seeing, chakra blocking spirituality and her GRAY EYES in a world where color coding is ~totally~ not a thing… *sigh* 

But nope. Air Nomad parentage = airbending child. Always.

So when Katara births a child that is… not an airbender? Not any kind of bender at all, in fact. There’s only one logical conclusion (in Aang’s mind). 

That is not Aang’s child. 

Aang never had a problem traveling with non-airbenders before. He was non-exclusionary by nature. Katara and Toph and Zuko were welcome. Sokka and Suki were welcome. The more, the merrier, in fact. Because Aang loves nothing as much as he loves an adoring audience.

Yet Bumi never travelled with Aang.

Bumi’s as old in this picture as Aang was in the first series. He had an entire decade in which he should have been the most important thing in his parents’ lives. His personality was already more or less formed (not completed, but the groundwork was laid) by the time Tenzin came along. Bumi’s inferiority issues began long before there were any airbending children around to siphon Aang’s attention for training purposes. 

Aang and Katara didn’t have another child until Bumi was on the verge of adolescence because Aang was convinced that Katara cheated. And I’m guessing it took Mr. “Let Your Anger Out, And Then Let It Go” about ten years to forgive his wife and give her the chance to get it right. (Which is at least four years longer than he gave her to forgive her mother’s murderer, in case you forgot.)

Acolyte: “Sorry, I thought you were the servants.”

Bumi: “We’re Tenzin’s brother and sister!”

Acolyte: “Avatar Aang had other children? The world is filled with more airbenders?!”

Kya: “We’re not airbenders.”

Acolyte: “Oh… I’m so sorry.”

The Air Acolytes—whose whole identity, purpose, lifestyle, and religion center around every detail of this man's life and beliefs—didn't know Aang had more than one child.

The best case scenario here is that Aang simply pretended his older children didn’t exist because he was ashamed of them and made Katara keep them shut away at all times. 

And maybe that could have worked… If Aang and Katara had ever had any privacy in their relationship. But they didn’t.

The Air Acolytes have been following Aang and Katara since the comics. They’ve been there at every step of Aang and Katara’s life together. Observing. Fangirling. Emulating. Diefying. Looking for weaknesses in the relationship because Katara was only his “first girlfriend.” 

Yet, somehow, they didn’t know Aang had three children. 

I can’t imagine a way for them not to know unless Aang actively told people, “Those aren’t my kids,” and let Katara bear the shame and stigma of having the world believe she was unfaithful. 

All because Aang couldn't entertain the idea that he was wrong about some facet of a society he never understood clearly.

[hwallazia]

SIREN – 최산

synopsis . in which too many words aren’t needed to get laid with your dream man.

pairing . choi san & fem!reader

genre . smut (mdni!), strangers to lovers ??? (or smth like that), tooth rotting fluff at the end (ofc, it wouldn’t be a hwallazia work otherwise), non idol!au

taglist . @bro-atz @purplenimsicle @vampzity @iykyunho | apply to join my taglist ♡

word count . 4,1k

DISCLAIMER! sub!san (in the beginning he acts all tough but he’s just a shy man who needs to be taken care of), dom!reader, unprotected sex (wrap before tap fellas), dirty talk, lots of teasing (reader taunts our poor needy sannie way too much), dacryphilia?, overstimulation, cowgirl position, blowjob, dry humping?, begging oh so much begging, creampie, squirting, petnames (sannie, baby, love, darling & more), softest!dom san at the end ((⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠))

NIC’S NOTES this is totally inspired in bruno mars & cardi b’s “please me” music video (song rec for the fic ofc!). firstly, i thought of writing this for yunho, but the idea of submissive san is just... *sighs* makes me go feral. i have no more words. so well, i hope you enjoy reading.. whatever this is <3

laughter echoing, heels clicking against the ground, and jewelry shining with the intermittent city lights. the night out with your girls was a total success, with a couple of boys dripping over themselves from just the look of your slim, god-sculpted figures and playful, perfect grins, teeth white as pearls. of course, a few sluts jealous of all the attention you and your crew were receiving —you think that one of the boys who asked for your number was some plastic blondie’s boyfriend. saying that you felt absolutely unreachable was an understatement, your red lipstick sticking perfectly to your desirable lips, your not-so-covering outfit fitting your body just right and your siren-like eyes making the legs of every man you ever landed your gaze quivering in anticipation. the effect you had was supernatural and the smooth masculine attention made your stomach jump in excitement and narcissism, your mind clouded by a god-complex fog.

even though some of the men who approached you with clear second intentions were hot and you’d understand if he had a queue of girls who wanted to get laid with him, you didn’t find any of them good enough for you. it’d be just a one-night thing but still, you wanted to look for a man that made your heart flutter just with the sight of him. unfortunately, that didn’t happen in the club, so you and your girls retired once the clock hit 4.

you all were still too hyped and too beautiful to go to your houses, so you decided to go to a taco place since your friend, mia, was craving some good tacos. with a fifteen-minute walk, you got to the restaurant. as your friends kept laughing loudly over something you wouldn’t understand even if you were sober, you pushed the door open, the bell above it making an annoying sound for your intoxicated brain. you analyzed the place: cookers doing their thing behind the counter, being the ones to blame for the fire coming from pans and the toe-curling smell of meat and fried condiments; a lovey-dovey couple sitting in the table of the corner, way too far from your location; and a few tables full of people of all ages. but there was this one table that your group couldn’t help but watch intently: four gentlemen talking about god knows what and drinking their “corona” brand beers occasionally. one of them noticed how his intense and siren-like gaze was above them, his legs sloppily kicking their friends under the table.

“ow! wooyoung what was that f—” the tall, bulky-figured man called san whined before he turned around and saw you and your group still standing right next to the entrance. holy fuck, he immediately thought. he had never seen a woman as flawless as you, your curves making his hands itch from the solely and uncontrollable desire of touching them. he licked his lips in anticipation.

“fuck, look at that girl.” who kicked his leg, wooyoung, expressed out of breath the moment his eyes landed on your friend, hana. heat suddenly running up his neck and ears, the same happening to the tallest of them, yunho, when he fixated his black orbs on hana’s sibling, yoona. “finest woman i’ve ever seen.”

“same here.” the second tallest sitting at the table, mingi, agreed as well as he analyzed mia’s figure; his bottom lip caught between his perfect white row of teeth, eyes telling not very biblical tales.

“i think i got hard,” wooyoung said and lowered his head to meet his non-erected crotch, earning a slightly harsh fist landing on the side of his shoulder, courtesy of yunho.

“how old are you, man? really” san spoke hypocritically. his dirty mind was playing the same or worse scenarios wooyoung’s had been thinking of with hana but with you. he was already picturing you naked, bent over his kitchen counter, your notorious plump ass completely under his mercy, drawing all the faces you could possibly make as his cock rammed roughly inside you, the flesh of your ass bouncing every time his hips met yours. even though he hasn’t heard your voice yet, he can imagine the divine, cute moans you would mutter with his cock still pistoning against your wet and incredibly tight—

“san? you good, man?” mingi swung his hand right in front of his reddened face, a laugh coming from his friends the moment he slightly shook his head, waggling the sinful thoughts away.

“someone was fantasizing” wooyoung teased in a singsong tone, mingi and yunho chuckling as well.

“hell. we gotta take those ladies home.” san uttered rapidly before his mind could process his thoughts. the men’s eyes fixated on your group, which was already sitting at a table near them, mia and hana enjoying two tacos each while you and yoona kept drinking a cocktail. they didn’t know what you and your friends were laughing about, but they desperately wished they could be part of the conversation. and they would.

“okay. fellas,” wooyoung started, his friends turning their heads. “follow me and my charm.”

san, mingi, and yunho sighed in unison. they didn’t know when the day would come when they would put up with at least half of the narcissism of their friend who was standing up, by the way, drawing hana’s attention, who had been watching him since he entered that restaurant. he made his way to your table, the rest of his friends following his steps like a toddler looking up to his older brother. although the boys would never have wooyoung as a role model.

“well hello ladies,” he pulled out the most charming, gravel-like voice he could, his friends choking a laugh since they perfectly knew that wooyoung was overdoing it. but if it gets them the results they’re expecting then they’d let him be. “do y’all mind us sitting here?”

the eight of you weren’t stupid, you knew what you wanted. and you and your girls, especially, were desperate for those men’s attention. dancing and twerking over completely random strangers just to get their cocks hard and leave was exhausting and unproductive since none of them were good enough for y’all. so the four of you didn’t waste another second and stood up from their places, each of you approaching your desired man: yoona with yunho, mingi with mia, wooyoung with hana, and you with san.

you grabbed his wrist, guiding him to a different table, far from your and his friends’ location, your unfinished drink left on the table. you sat first and san did the same thing, making himself a place next to you, his gaze locked with yours still without saying a word. you both just let your eyes talk for you, a fire ignited inside san’s dark orbs.

you both turned your heads to the exit door the moment you heard the ringing of a bell, wooyoung and mia disappearing behind it. before he could totally abandon the place, he looked at san and gave him a thumbs up holding a champion grin drawn on his face. once the door clicked shut, san chuckled deeply, your skin trembling just from the sound of it.

“hah, wooyoung really knows how to play.” he exhaled looking down for a bit but not doubting a slight second to return his eyes to yours, your absurdly captivating eyes.

“oh so wooyoung is his name?” you asked, a hint of seduction hidden in your voice.

“yes, why’re you asking?” he replied hiding his nervousness in fake bravery. aren’t you interested in him? why’d you ask for his friend? his best friend?

“he’s cute.” you smiled as if it wasn’t a big deal.

san’s insides were hollering with your response. “cute?!” his desperate mind screamed. he cleared his throat for a second before responding what moments ago he thought he wouldn’t be able to answer. “then why’d you come up to me instead of him?”

his little jealous act made your heart tender. was he already jealous of you calling other men “cute” when he doesn’t even know your name? adorable.

“’cause you’re cuter,” you said leaning close enough to him to pinch the tip of his nose, you didn’t miss the little scrunch he did. oh, this man was going to be the death of you. you pulled away with a grin before continuing. “so...” you trailed off, expecting him to complete your words with his name, still unknown to you.

“san.”

“san,” you repeated in a velvety tone that made san’s ear and belly tingle. “where do you wanna take this?”

san’s nervousness was quickly replaced by all the thoughts he had earlier when he first saw you. now he was the one who smoothly bent his figure over yours, cornering you between the wall and his bulky body. “as far as you allow me” his honey-dripping, but still sinful voice rang inside your eardrums, making you want to hear it all night long.

you smirked at his complete willingness and couldn’t help but kiss his lips. san hummed in the kiss, feeling relieved since he had been wanting to devour you the moment he saw you come through that door. his excitement won over his conservative side so he acted accordingly, his right hand made its way up to your jaw to insert his hot, skillful tongue inside your cavity; a soft whine from you was heard. you didn’t want to wait for his other hand to grab your waist, so you straddle his lap, your tiny skirt lifting up consequently, almost revealing your lace panties. san, like the gentleman he is, let you settle comfortably on him before reaching your skirt and pulling it down, so it could at least cover the important parts.

you finally broke the intense, breath-taking kiss just to mutter right on his lips. “let’s get out of here, hm?”

a few minutes passed and you both were already abandoning the place, getting in san’s car. you had agreed to go to san’s place, and san was more than pleased to take a woman like you home. the ride to his apartment was full of lingering touches here and there that were more than just skin-to-skin contact. your hand caressed his thigh dangerously, your long nails faintly stroking his hardened bulge. the self-control that san had to not jerk his hips upwards was supernatural, and you found this very amusing and hot.

you straightened your back and leaned over him, one of your breasts touching his arm faintly, which was gripping the gear lever with all the strength he had. “you’re very good at keeping it cool. let’s see if you still can when i suck your cock.” you sentenced, finally stroking his tight crotch, the hiss coming from his lips only feeding your eagerness to keep touching him, apparently, the way he likes.

“ugh, please” the fact that he was driving prevented him from shutting his eyes and throwing his head back, the feeling being too good to be true. what were you doing to him? you didn’t even have your hand wrapped around his dick, so why was he already panting like a bitch in heat? “p-please, i can’t—ugh—”

“don’t tell me you’re gonna cum with just a couple of strokes?” your teasing tone made his body shiver even more, this action not going unnoticed by you. a smirk was drawn on your lips, the effect you had on this man was even hot for you.

“n-no, i’m not.. ’s just that—hmph!” you grasped his cock tightly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in satisfaction.

“eyes on the road, sannie.” your velvet voice enveloped him even more in the cloud of your attracting effect. something inside san, warm and glowing at the praise, made his hanged-open mouth to let out the most precious mewl you’ve ever heard. you touched him three times more before releasing your grip on his cock, the silhouette of a slightly wet tent made your pussy clench.

“w-why’d you stop?” he whined at the loss of contact, his leg bouncing up and down in desperation.

you smiled, fingers brushing over the soft skin of san’s cheek. “let’s get home first, cutie.”

and he didn’t have to be told twice, his feet stepping harshly on the accelerator, your back hitting the car seat in consequence. “so desperate” you muttered under your breath, san being unable to hear your words.

finally, you made it to san’s place. he urgently rummaged through his pockets, looking for his apartment key. he inserted it on the lock and twisted it, opening the door. behind it, a dim-lighted, minimalistic, and quite spacious studio apartment was hidden, you entered before san did, looking all around you. “well uhm. this is my—mph!” he spoke while turning around to face you, but he was suddenly interrupted when you threw yourself at him to kiss him once again. you had become addicted to it on such short notice. you walked forward so he was walking backward, your eyes opening a little in the middle of the kiss to locate his bed. the moment you introduced your tongue inside his cavity, he knew it was over. he definitely wasn’t going to be the dominant one tonight. you guided him into his own bed, and when his calves hit its frame, he knew he could sit. you analyzed him before straddling his lap. god, san must’ve been sculpted by the heavens, all broad shoulders and chiseled muscles and a tapering waist that you had been a little obsessed with from the moment you landed your eyes on him.

you finally settled just fine on his lap, already making yourself a home in it. san instinctively grabbed a few handfuls of your ass before getting rid of your annoying top, your bra being the only piece of cloth attached to your body. but san was growing impatient, his lips desiring more than anything to suck your breasts. and fortunately, no words were needed since you could read him like a book. your hands reached your back and unhooked your bra in an instant, giggling at san’s excited mouth which didn’t waste much time before wrapping his lips around your nipples. hips stuttering at the feeling.

eventually, san included teeth and tongue to his ministrations, your back arching in response. “oh fuck, sannie. keep going,” you stroked his locks of hair and his nape tenderly. you continued speaking, “sucking a nameless woman’s tits. what does that have to say about you, darling?” you teased.

oh fuck you were right. you had asked him for his name, but he didn’t even bother, way too desperate for your body to even start with the formalities. he stopped his movements and unattached his lips from your nipple, it became erected when the cold air of the room passed through it, a shiver running down your spine. he stopped pleasuring you, but your hips were still rocking against his bulged cock, pants leaving his and your mouth. “i-i’m sorry. what’s—hah—your name?”

“yn, love.” you simply answered and brought your lips closer to the curvature of his ear, continuing your words in a faint whisper. “but you can call me whatever you want tonight” you tilted your head to the side and attached your lips to his neck, spreading sloppy kisses and licks all along it.

he was getting more and more excited as the minutes passed, which seemed to pass tortuously slowly. your bouncing hips placed significant pressure on his crotch, making his insides scream for relief. whines started to leave san’s mouth.

“a-ah, stop please.. it hurts” he pleaded with a broken voice, his aching cock begging for release. you stared at him from above, his sparkling eyes melting your heart.

“need something, baby?” your teasing tone was driving him over the edge. he didn’t want, he required your mouth on his cock. and now, otherwise, he’d explode.

“touch me, please” he whined. “i can’t take it.”

you were starting to feel sorry for the tightness you felt perfectly underneath you, but a small part of you wanted to keep messing with him for a bit longer. “but i am touching you, dear. need you to be more specific.”

he let out a shameless mewl at your words, closing his eyes for a second. suddenly, san on the verge of tears “just touch my cock! suck it, or fuck me. i don’t know, whatever you please but do something! please..”

a loving sigh left your lips as you caressed san’s cheek tenderly. “aw, baby. i’ll give you just what you want.”

you promised and complied. you moved off his thighs to get on your knees, shyness not being a feeling. the perfect fit of your figure between san’s toned legs made his cock twitch. your manicured hands trailed their way up to his pants, your fingers unbuckling his belt and pulling them down in a fast movement. you were desperate too, you had been craving his touch —and other prohibited things— all night. and finally your wish would come true.

you stroked his exposed member before running your tongue all over it, still not putting it explicitly in your mouth. his angry, reddened tip leaked drips of pre-cum, making it look like tiny pearls. you were impressed by the length and girth of it, the sight being completely mouth-watering. you didn’t make the poor man above you wait any longer, so you opened your mouth widely to finally dive in, enveloping his cock with your welcoming heat.

the sensation was overwhelming for san since his cock was sensitive from all the teasing you had done before. then he was forced to put all his weight on his arms which, located at his sides, tightly gripped the white sheets that would soon be soaked.

“oh my—fuck—” he choked out, sweat running down his temples.

your head bobbed up and down his length, what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth was being attended by your skillful hand. san’s high-pitched and breathy moans started to get louder when your nails caressed his balls gently while you took him all the way down, his cockhead hitting the back of your throat.

“close.. ugh, so fucking close” he exhaled, still grasping the sheets underneath him. because he couldn’t bring himself to touch, like you’re fragile, and everything will shatter if he does. even though he was the openly desperate one, he’d let you go at your own pace, politely petting your hair. “i—ah—i’m gonna cum, wait” he warned frantically and breathlessly, his hand pushing your shoulder gently, he didn’t want you to get dirty with his cum. such a gentleman even in a situation as lewd as that.

but you didn’t seem to care, way too immersed in his throbbing, addicting cock. you were committed to making his cum. and you did, a broken holler leaving san’s lip, swollen and red from biting them so harshly as your cavity was filled with hot spurts of his cum.

but that wasn’t enough for you. so you kept pumping his dick slowly as you got up, san’s hips jerking underneath you, shrieks coming from his mouth resonated across the room. after getting rid of your skirt, you resumed your initial position and placed your knees at his sides, his tired hands immediately resting on the outer sides of your thighs. you didn’t give him much time to recompose as you aligned his cock to your wet, unattended entrance.

“uh—wait yn, i just came. give me just a min—ahh!” he begged the moment he saw your body lower on his sensitive member. but it was too late, you had already pushed your panties aside and started bouncing up and down his length.

once again, the overwhelming sensation overcame san, and he surrendered, collapsing onto the mattress. a rush of coolness ran down his spine as the cold sheets met his sweat-drenched back, sending shivers through his entire body. you took advantage of his vulnerable position, resting your hands on his firm, plump chest. you began to bounce even harder, determined to milk every last drop of cum from his cock, feeling the tension build with each movement.

at that point, san was only blubbering nonsense underneath you, delirious, fucked out of his mind, his eyes glassy and lewd whines leaving his slick lips. “fuck—’s too much, too much, ahh!” he shamelessly moaned, not caring even a little bit about how loud he was. he’d probably lots of complaints from his neighbors. but he’d take care of that tomorrow, right now all he could this about was you and your wet, warm, and pulsating cunt squeezing his cock divinely.

“keep screaming for me, pretty boy” you expressed, unashamed as well. “make the whole building know who’s making you feel good.”

san whimpered even more loudly in response. “fuck—yn, please”

“who’s making you feel good?” you repeated just to get another couple of whispered ‘please’ as a response. but those weren’t the words you wanted to hear. “answer.”

your stern tone sent a warmer heat down his belly. “you, yn” he managed to respond but in a faint murmur. and still, that wasn’t what you were looking for. in consequence, you lifted your body up to only envelope his red tip with your walls and squeezed them on purpose, earning a loud, prolonged cry. “ah! yn, please!”

a smirk was drawn on his lips, satisfyingly going down him again. “please what, love?”

“make me cum! please, make me cum again” he mewled, a couple of tears streaming down his cheeks.

“isn’t that too greedy from you? you came not long ago.” you taunted him for the last time in the night.

“yes, i’m greedy! i just—ahh! i need to cum, pleasepleaseplease” he whimpered, repeating his prayers like a mantra.

you, enlightened by his begging, smiled sweetly and trapped his right nipple between your index and middle finger, playfully twisting them. “then cum, sannie. make a mess inside me.”

and those were the only words he needed, his cum even spilling out of your ravished cunt, mixed with your warm, clear juices. a sigh left your lips, your insides filled to the brim. “ahh, good boy, sannie. goood boy.” you trailed off your words as you fondled his cheeks, covered in sweat and tears.

your tired state made your body move faster than your mind could process and you laid down next to him. a few minutes of silence were necessary to stabilize your breathing and regain a normal body temperature. the cold night began to show its effects on each other’s skin, both suddenly feeling your hair stand on end.

“ooh” you uttered at the rushing cold breeze that ran through your legs up to your spine. “it’s cold.”

san didn’t say any words and just stretched his arm to reach the least dirty blanket and cover your bodies with it. he brought your figure closer to his as he enclosed your shoulder with his strong arm. a weird feeling of safety drowning your insides. it was such an intimate and loving moment even though the only thing you knew about each other was the other’s name. still, you didn’t want to move, you strangely enjoyed his company more than you expected.

san, after moments of complete silence, spoke, “wanna go out tomorrow?”

“mm? go out?”

“yeah. even though i only know your name, you’re the most beautiful, breathtaking woman i’ve ever seen in my life. and don’t get me wrong, i loved this, i think i might have an obsession with your body now.” you both chuckled, “but it’d be my greatest pleasure if you let me take you out on a date tomorrow.” he stared at you for a moment before continuing, “wanna know more about you.”

your still dumbfounded mind didn’t let you think clearly, so you could only mutter a few words, “apart from my name?”

he giggled softly, your heart melting as the sound reached your ears. a warmth spreaded through your chest consequently. “apart from your name.” he confirmed.

you didn’t have much to think about. this had never happened to you with any of the guys you had slept with, and it had always been your dream to find the one. the one who, in addition to your body, is interested in your soul, what you have to give. and it seemed like your dream man was right next to you, wrapping you with his captivating, safe arms. then your response was automatic, tenderly silent. “yes, i’d love to.”

san smiled fondly. “it’s settled then.” he brought his lips to your forehead to place a short, sincere kiss. “thank you, princess” he whispered in a low, sweet tone. your cheeks and heart warming at the sound of it. “let’s get some sleep, hm?”

you hummed lowly in response, nestling comfortably in his chest. reality hadn’t hit you yet, but it would soon. tomorrow! more specifically. but, for the moment, you just dedicated yourself to sleep soundly, trapped between the love of your life and wet sheets.

| masterlist

[r3starttt]

LOOK WHAT YOU STARTED

Prt 2.

CW: mentions of murder. stabbing. blood. bullying. oral (r! receiving) fingering (r! receiving), dom e! sub r! use of pet names (mama. princess. babe/baby) blood kink. sex in shower.

“You took this shit from zero to a hundred, babe”

You’ve gotten into a very privileged arts university. Your dream had always been becoming an artist so you’d do anything necessary to achieve it. You got there with help of a scholarship and even though you weren’t the only one, people couldn’t contain themselves, so they stared to make fun of you for not being as rich at them, how fucking stupid.

But how could you guilt them? they were born rich, grew up rich, didn’t had to fight for anything in life and all of them were ignorants with luck, very good luck. And then there was you and all the other not so privileged students who had to prove they were worth the money. Who had to basically beg to be where they were and who had to conform with being treated like dogs.

And your life was that until you meet Ellie. People talked about her and how cruel she was, yet for you she was just another rich girl at your school.

There were rumors about how she got killed anyone who deared to disrespect her the minimum, or at least that’s what people thought since every time someone didn’t treated her with pure privilege they would loose everything and then disappear.

She was also the best student, excellent grades, loads of awards and recognitions, never had failed an exam in her whole life. And of course people talked about it, because as much as rich kids try to bully the non privileged, they’ll still recognized they’re unable to be smart and try hard, they’re too privileged to even think about it.

So when Ellie first approached to you when you were on the library preparing for an exam you thought your life was over. You thought you had nothing to offer to her so you probably did something that got her mad without realizing. Maybe she got mad because she noticed how you stayed nearby whenever people gossiped about her?. Whatever it was, this was it. You were the perfect target.

“I’ve been looking at you for a while, I like you” you freezed, she looked so serious and confident to be lying, why would she? “Let’s go on a date, if you don’t like me back I’ll leave you alone” you probably looked as freaked out as you felt because a smirk formed on her freckled face “I won’t hurt you I promise, not unless you do something wrong” you didn’t cared if she meant it or not, if this was a threat or a very cheap way to try and convince you. Whatever it was you couldn’t take any risks “it’s fine, I’d like to”.

And that’s how all started, she wasn’t anything like what you were expecting. She was caring and so polite. After the first date you had with her you couldn’t help but fall for her completely. So you kept going on dates until eventually you’ve started to date officially.

People kept on talking shit about you, and it got even worse once you started to date her. Comments about how you were only with her for the money and how you’d dump her once collage was over were the ones that repeated the most.

And Ellie couldn’t take it. She tried her best to not care until you got physically abused by one of those students. It was the first time you feared her, she was mad and screaming at you, you feared she could hurt. And ironically it was that same fear that made you confess yourself in the very beginning.

One week or so after the incident, the girl that had left your body bruised went to you, screaming how a bitch you were for complaining to Ellie. She told you how her parents got fired, how she had got expulsed from collage and how her life was going down, how this was all your fault.

And you knew nothing about her after that day. Until Ellie took you on a date, or so you thought, because where you got to the place you were supposed to have the date you saw her, the girl that had spread rumors about you, the girl that grabbed you by the hair because she was jealous and then proceeded to hit you.

And you were confused, blinded. You knew what this was all about but didn’t want to accept it.

You were in front of the girl, she was on her knees, arms and legs tied up “I’m so sorry, I swear I won’t tell anyone just let me go. You’ll never see me again please” the girl begged, her voice was loud and shaky.

“Girl, you know what you did”

You turned your face to look at Ellie, she was sitting on a chair behind you. You were studying her face, but there was no single thing you could read on her. Her gaze turned straight to your scared eyes “cmon… what’re you scared of mhm?” her voice was the same gentle one that made you fall in love with her yet you were freaked out “go on pretty girl, I know you can do it” she stood up and walked to you, cupping your almost teary face with her cold hands “do it for me yeah?” her lips pressed on yours and then she let go of you.

She leaned you a knife and caressed your shaky hand softly with her thumb, you could feel her eyes looking through you. You just nodded quietly, letting her know you would do it.

“Look what you started”

The girl kept on screaming and begging for you to stop, but the fear, the shock and the rage combined on your body made you blurry her voice. You could her nothing but your heavy breathing and the way your steps sounded on the floor as you got closer.

And just as you blinked you realized the knife in your hand was now buried deep into the girls neck. Blood all over your face, all over your body. You hated blood, even your own, you wanted to throw up. Your hand moved without you realizing it, in and out of the girls body. Blood kept coming out, making a mess of you.

You felt sick, not because of what you did but because of how dirty you were. Just before your thoughts could get all over your mind, a pair of cold hands embraced your body from behind, taking the knife slowly off your hands.

“You did so good baby” her hands move from your hands to your shoulders, the knife was now on her hands. She turned you around softly and hugged you tightly. You could hear her heartbeat as she pressed your head on her chest. “I’m so proud of you, you’re good now, calm down yeah?” You felt her rubbing your back with her hand, up and down on until the euphoria eventually disappeared.

She assured you her dad would take care of it, you trusted her since now you knew it wasn’t the first time this happened. You took a last glance on the girls cold dead body before Ellie escorted you away, back to the car she had drove you on before all happened.

During the drive home you could only stare at her. You felt the dried blood all over you and some hairs sticking on your face. Your mind was so full of thoughts It felt empty. This was the first time you killed someone, how could you pretend everything was fine?

There was a mix of euphoria and insane guilt, seeing them bleed out on the floor infront of you and ellie after you’ve stabbed them was disgusting and just shocking.

“What’s going through your head?”

As ellie drove, she looked over at you a few times with a smug smile, noticing how you were staring back “why are you so quiet? are you worried you’ll get caught?” her right hand moved on top of yours, tangling her fingers with yours. “Mhm?…no” you let out a loud sigh “just…. It’s the blood, I hate it”

“Are you sorry?”

“you’ll get used to it babe” ellie said in a reassuring tone as she looked back out on the road, continuing to drive them back to Ellie’s apartment “its always hard in the beginning, the guilt can make you want to throw up and you dont even realize how much you want to look away when the blood begins to pour”

“There’s nothing else to say”

You just nodded in silence. You were too shocked to do anything else, too tired from your thoughts to speak as you usually did. “I’ll be good, I’ll get over it” you reassured, more for yourself than to calm Ellie.

The rest of the drive back to Ellie’s was quiet. Just some music from the radio that you eventually turned on to try and focus on something else than your sticky body and the smell of blood all over you.

Once you got there she helped you get out of the car, grabbing your hands all the way to her apartment. Everything felt so surreal. Time was slow yet so fast and your body felt like it wasn’t yours. Maybe it was the smell of blood that was overwhelming you.

She lead you to her bathroom and turned the water on for you to shower. Her hands were all over your body as she helped you get undressed “you won’t to it again, I just wanted that bitch to get what she deserved” you felt her lips pressing on your forehead gently and her hands holding yours “it’s okay ellie, I’m fine” your appearance said the total opposite. Tainted cheeks, plump shaky lips that you were biting since you got out of the car, teary empty eyes and a body full of blood. Yet Ellie showed no mercy or empathy towards you, she did loved you, just not enough to feel pity for your looks. She had got what she wanted from you.

Ellie got in the shower first, leading you with her hands holding yours. You felt the hot water running all over your tense body, you could see how it turned red and how the blood on your face started to run all over your body, from your hair to your toes.

She helped you to clean yourself, she was moving your body as she wanted to, yet you didn’t hesitate. Too full of thoughts to even try to.

Her hands full of shampoo giving you a scalp massage, then full of soap removing the blood from your body. Soft kisses here and there as she cleaned you. Her hands all over your body, so tender and gentle. “Hey…. look at me, mhm? c’mon” you stared at her tattoo as she grabbed you by your chin “stop thinking about it, we’re fine, there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll never dare to put you in any danger” your eyes finally connected with hers, and so did your lips. Water running in between your bodies and mouth, tasting a bit like soap.

Ellie slowly ran her fingers down your torso, your hips, and your thighs, as a corky smile appeared in her face “you’re so beautiful” she whispered gently “and you’re all mine”. her lips kept on going lower and lower leaving tiny bites and kisses from your jawline, to your neck, to your clavicle. Her body pressed close against yours as water run in between.

You felt how her lips latched around one of your hardened nipples, sucking on it as one of her hands toyed with the other. A low whimper came out of you now slightly opened mouth as your hands moved at the back of Ellie’s hair, playing with it. She kept on leaving kisses all over your body, a few small bruises on your chest.

Ellie started to slide down on her knees, slowly, dragging her nails along your tender skin. You moved your head along her body, staring at her every move. Your hands cupping Ellie’s face gently, making her look back at you.

She stared back as she let her fingers gently move up and down your body, feeling the smoothness of your skin under the warm water. “I’ll never let anyone hurt you, ever” she spoke softly, pulling your body close to her.

"I love you" you replied on a whisper. Your hands moved closer to Ellie’s lips, moving your thumb on top of her lips, caressing them. Ellie moved her mouth to cover your thumb, kissing it and sucking it slightly. “i love you too princess".

Just as you removed your thumb from her pretty lips you saw how she got her face close to your cunt, leaving small kisses on it as her hands move around your thighs. Her nose pressing on your clit caused shivers all over your body, moving your hands back to Ellie’s hair, pulling her even closer to you.

The mix of the warm water and your skin sticking on her made it so hard for her to breathe but she didn’t mind it, she was to focused on your pleasure and how delicious you taste to even bother.

Her tongue slowly sliding in between your folds as her nose presses on your plump delicate bud. You kept on letting out small whimpers, almost as if you were crying from pleasure, needy for more.

Her hands moved up, from your thighs to your breasts, cupping them and toying with your nipples again. Her tongue moving up and down, side to side and in all posible patterns on your sensitive cunt, teasing you by licking just outside your entrance.

She continued with her motions, until you were shaking and feeling a knot of pleasure forming on your stomach. Just as you’re nearing your orgasm she stops abruptly. Both, her hands and tongue stopped moving.

Before a confused look could form on your face, her right hand slid down your body to your now aching cunt, slowly circling your entrance “you’re doing so good for me baby” her face moved to make eye contact with you once again, smiling at the sight of your desperate face “let me hear you mhm? be loud for me” and you nodded.

Two of her fingers finally plunged in, curling and hitting just the right spot. You did as she asked and started to moan her name loudly “m-mmhm Ellie…. please” your voice came out a bit shaky.

“please what mhm? say it mama, c’mon” her thrusts became more aggressive each second, making it harder for you to speak, to focused on the pleasure “m-more” you managed to beg.

Her face got closer to your clit again, sucking on it as her fingers kept on thrusting on your cunt. The sound of your whimpers made her grown, sending vibrations to your sensitive bud and making you moan nonstop.

“m’gonna cum” you moan dumb, and you can feel how she get more aggressive and fast, until the knot on your stomach finally releases. And as you turn your face down you can see her licking all.

Her fingers kept on moving after you had released, slowing down and finally retiring them out of your cunt, licking them.

She gave you a small kiss on one of your thighs before standing up again. Water running over your bodies “liked your reward?” she said gently, pressing her lips with yours before you could even answer. You could feel her smiling.

“If this is what I’ll get for killing annoying bitches then I’ll do it more frequently” your breathing was still a bit shaky as you spoke, making Ellie chuckle “you’ll get this just for being with me”.

And now it’s your turn to clean her properly, and maybe even reward her back, just for having a soft spot for you.

-

Prt.2

[fiction-is-life]

Congratulations on 500 non-bot followers! I just joined the ranks after reading the angstly little treat you did for @eleanor-bradstreet 🤩

I would like to request a blurb for Anthony from your prompt list. #8 - "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while."

This is so fun!

Trapped and Titillated

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for the follow, love, and for your kind words! I am so glad you liked Touchstone of Our Character!  I had so much fun writing this request; it is quite a bit longer than a blurb, but I hope that makes up for the fact it has taken me so long to write it!  Enjoy!

Summary: You are trapped with the Viscount.

Warnings: Angst, getting locked in a room, verbal fighting, steamy make out session, brotherly teasing

~

The door wouldn’t budge.  Oh, I knew when that latch clicked, I was doomed.  Utterly doomed.  And it was all his fault.

“Well, you have done it now, my lord,” I seethed, letting the veneer of polite reserve fall away.  It was always thin around him anyway.

Anthony Bridgerton had the audacity to raise one perfect, dark brow.  “I have done it?” he intoned, his voice cutting through my rising panic, reinforcing who I was angry at.

“Yes,” I hissed.  “You shut the door behind you, and now it is jammed.  It may be hours before someone comes by and finds us, and what then?”

He took a step towards me, matching the one I had subconsciously taken, bringing us closer than society would deem acceptable.  “As far as I am concerned, I have only done what was my right.  This is my library in my home, and I may shut any door I please.”

“Not when an unmarried young lady is in said library - unaccompanied.  Or have you forgotten the rules of the Ton while you were busy raking about the kingdom?” I knew I had struck my mark when I saw the Viscount’s eyes darken, his whole body tensing.

“Miss (Y/L/N), you do not know of what you speak,” he said through clenched teeth, and I shivered from the ice in his tone.  Anthony certainly did not miss it.  “I was raised a gentleman, Miss (Y/L/N), as a member of one of the most respected families in all of England, no less.”  

I scoffed and raised my chin and matched his stance.  We were practically nose-to-nose with each other.  “Well, there must be an exception to every rule, my lord, and I suppose you are it.”

I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them, terrified at the way his features turned from red-hot anger to a cold, stony silence.  I took a shaky breath.  “M-my lord, I apologize.  I believe I am overwrought from the events of today.  Please forgive me,” I spoke in a rush, not daring to make eye contact with those dark depths again.

A long moment passed before he cleared his throat, his complexion returned to a more normal hue but his posture still stiff.  “It looks like we'll be trapped for a while, Miss (Y/L/N).  We may as well make ourselves comfortable," he spoke in a clipped, quiet tone.  For some odd reason, I wished he would have yelled instead.

He must have noticed the look of panicked confusion on my face as I alternated between staring at him and the couches near the fire.  “Do not fear, Miss (Y/L/N), I shall strive to reign in my more ungentlemanly urges.  Your virtue is safe from me.”

I bit my lip, nodding at his words.  They were what I wanted to hear.  Right?  Oh, dash it!  I had never been prone to hysterics before, but something about being this close to the Viscount was making my thoughts and feelings a muddle.  So, I did the only thing that felt safe.

I pretended to read.

I believed it was working, too.  That is, until the Viscount cleared his throat again.  I wanted to roll my eyes at the realization that the smallest of his gestures still commanded attention.  I was looked over during a one-on-one conversation, but Lord Anthony Bridgerton could simply breathe in a certain way and every head would turn.

“Is there something you need, my lord?”  I asked, my eyes still blindly trained on the pages in front of me so that I missed his growing smirk.

“You must be a great reader, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said.

I raised one perfectly arched eyebrow.  “Yes, I do love a good book,” I returned, turning the page.

“You are most certainly a more avid reader than I.”

That made me look up at him, confusion wrinkling my brow.  “Why do you say that, my lord?” 

He openly smiled now, allowing me to see that little dimple in his one cheek.  “I have never mastered the art of reading words that are upside-down.”

“What?”  I looked down and finally saw what book I had picked up.  It was a tome on new farming practices, and it was indeed upside down.  

Well, I could not let him win that easily.  “I find I absorb the words much better when it is more difficult to read them.”  I looked down my nose as I had seen many women do.  “I believe it is important to challenge oneself, so one does not become ignorant and vain.”

His features twisted into a wry grin.  “Very true, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said in a tight voice.  He crossed over to the sofa I was sitting on and sat down - far too close for comfort.  “What are other pursuits that you find are challenging enough, may I ask?”

I knew he was goading me, but I simply could not back down from his challenge.  “Any activities I find rewarding, I suppose.”  I closed the book and tilted my head, staring him in the eye.  “Making sound investments, helping run the household, volunteering for charities,” I listed, not even trying to mask the smugness in my tone.  “Basically anything that contributes to society, unlike spending every night at gaming hells or with ladies of the night or -”

His lips crashed onto mine, cutting me off.  I felt positively surrounded by him as he crushed me into the back of the sofa, his strong arms encircling my waist and pulling me into him.  He smelled of bay rum and mint, and it was utterly intoxicating.  

At first, I was too shocked to react, but as his lips moved insistently on my own, I started to follow his lead.  He growled when I parted my lips, and my eyes shot open when he darted his tongue into my mouth, but it felt too good to pull away.  So, I pulled him closer.

My hands tangled in his dark locks, and when my fingers caught on a knot, Anthony pulled back slightly, moaning.  I gasped and pulled back.  “Did I hurt you, my lord?” I asked, concerned.

He groaned again, his eyes darkening further.  “Call me that again,” he growled, panting heavily.

My face twisted in confusion.  “My lord?”

“Yes,” he breathed, his lips finding mine again.  His hands wandered this time, sending pings of pleasure straight to my core.  I couldn’t hold back my own noises when his strong hands found my breasts, my nipples pebbling embarrassingly.  

I lost track of time as Anthony peppered wet kisses down my neck and over the swells of my breasts where my dress did not cover them.  He started to work his hand under the skirt of my dress when a crash was heard on the other side of the library.  

“Brother! Are you in here?  I need to get away from all of the matchmaking endeavours mother has concocted,” the voice of Anthony’s brother, Benedict, was heard.  Anthony’s head snapped up, a panicked look in his eyes.  

“Stay here.  I shall get rid of him,” Anthony whispered before rising from the sofa, straightening his jacket where I had mussed it.  “Brother.  You find me at an inopportune time.  I was just leaving,” he called out to his brother, trying to prevent him from seeing me.

“Why?  You already met with the steward this morning.  You have nothing else planned until dinner.”  Even I could hear the skepticism in Benedict’s voice as it grew closer.  

“Well, yes, but I thought I might go for a ride,” Anthony hedged.

“Wonderful!  I shall join you!”

“No!” Anthony shouted.  “I mean, I was wishing to ride out alone this time,” he finished in a more tempered tone.  

There was a long pause where I thought Benedict just may have believed the lie.  “Are you sure you want to be alone?  Because I think Miss (Y/L/N) might disagree.”  I gasped.  “I shall see you at dinner, brother, Miss (Y/L/N),” he said, a door closing behind him shortly after.  

I sat up with a huff, my cheeks flaming a brighter red than they had been before.  “I am sorry; I did not think anyone would follow me here -”

“What door did he come through?” I interrupted what was sure to be a very eloquent apology.

Now, the Viscount’s cheeks turned red and he scratched the back of his neck nervously.  “Well, um, he used the hidden entrance in the south wall.”

“Oh, you cad!” I screamed.  “Open it.  Now, my lord.”

Anthony silently moved toward the south wall, pulling a certain book back to reveal a hidden door.  I gathered my dignity about me as I fixed my skirts.  I caught a whiff of his cologne once more as I passed him, and for a brief moment, I wanted to turn back.  Instead, I held my head high, giving the Viscount one of those superior looks other ladies had mastered.  I wanted him to know I was not to be trifled with.

But I knew this was not the end of my encounters with the Viscount.

~

My Masterlist

[yeeterthek33per]

Two's Company, Three's A Crowd, Four And Five Say Let Chaos Reign (Katrina Gorry x Reader)

A/n Requested. Part three to Missing Toddlers and Mayhem :) Will Edit later, cause I'm at work atm y'all.

(Y'all this took me so long freaking long to write like 😭)

Content/Warning(s): mildly suggestive, warning you now, it does get a little itty bit spicy. Harper, Kyra, R, and Chacha ganging up on Katrina.

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"So do I get to know where we're going or are we doing a surprise again, because the last time we did this, I got my butt kicked on a public beach."

Katrina🔥❤️

"If I recall correctly, that was your fault, Miss L/n."

Katrina🔥❤️

"Also, no 😘"

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"I don't recall going into this knowing you were a professional slide tackler😫"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Could have left the gear in the boot and never mentioned it. You should know us footballers are legally obligated to accept rondo challenges 😜"

Hot Stuff❤️🥵

"☹️"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Turn that frown upside down, Babe😊"

Hot Stuff❤���🥵

"🙃"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Smartass🙄"

Katrina🔥❤️

"But close enough."

Katrina🔥❤️

"Just be ready by 12, I'll be there soon😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Of course, see you soon, Gorgeous😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Wait"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"What do I wear??"

Katrina🔥❤️

"Hike meets cozy casual😘"

Hot Stuff ❤️🥵

"Got it, thanks, Cutie😘"

You'd been talking non stop in the days between the last time you'd seen each other in person.

Over the phone, via text, even a facetime at some point, where Harper managed to sneak in and say a very happy hello to you.

The little girl manages to bring a massive smile to your face every time Katrina talks about her.

There was always a smile on your face lately, or so your sister had pointed out just yesterday.

"I swear that woman's got you glued to your phone, dorky little smile and everything."

"Leave me alone, Ash." You whine.

A soft rap on your door lifts your head from your current position of smiling over your phone.

You really need to stop proving her point.

Ashley opens the door, a small smirk already on her face making you roll your eyes.

"Can I help you?"

"It's date time soon, why are you not ready?"

"How would you know what-"

"You told me yesterday, all dreamy eyed. Geez, she got you hypnotised too now?"

You huff.

"Whatever, why are you in here?"

"Because you're being awfully quiet about this Kat and I'm worried, because you haven't said a word about who she is or what she does."

"I haven't been murdered, I'm fine, you can stop grilling, nor are you grilling her when she gets here."

"I have to do my sisterly duties, now hurry up and get ready or else I'll have longer with her because you're running late for your date."

Glancing at the clock on your wall, she's right, it's about forty or so minutes before Katrina is due.

Standing up, you shoo the woman out of your room and quickly jump into the shower, grabbing out a pair of hiking pants, a simple short sleeve shirt and a light blue denim jacket.

By the time you're out of the shower dressed and touching up your hair, there's a knock at the door downstairs.

You fire down them, shoving your sister, who's racing you to the door, away.

As smoothly as you can, you open the door with a warm smile.

Katrina's warm smile greets your own.

She's beautiful as ever and you tell her as such, the long sleeve jacket almost matching your own except she's in shorts and sneakers and a light pink button up underneath it.

"Hey, Beautiful."

You step out the door to greet the shorter woman, arms wrapping around her, her leaning up into you, hands settling on your shoulder blades.

"Hi, Cutie."

You pout softly as she goes to pull away, and then she chuckles meeting your demands with her own lips.

Humming softly in appreciation, you squeeze her waist.

"You ready?"

Nodding, you go to shut the door behind you, keys, phone, wallet and water bottle already with you.

Of course, Ashley decides now is the perfect time to pop out, only, she pauses, surprise on her expression.

"Well... I was going to do the whole sisterly, bring her back by ten talk but... I don't need to. You two have fun!"

And with that, she slams the door behind you, giving you a loving tap to the butt.

Katrina looks confused, matching your own bewilderment at your sisters actions.

"I'm gonna be honest, I have no idea what that was."

You cough into your palm, covering a half laugh.

"Anyway, continuing on. Are we good to go?"

She nods, grabbing you by the hand, leading you to the car parked in your driveway.

Clipping in, she reverses out and starts driving off in the direction of the northern exit from the outer city, a drive you know well enough, having gone this way quite a few times.

She leans over and hands you a black cable, winking at you from her spot in the driver's seat.

"Passenger princess duties are all yours."

The cheeky grin makes you roll yours playfully with a small huff.

"Sure, babe."

Switching to some music you'd both listened to that Saturday night, your hand settles in hers across the console as you hit the highway.

"So, do I get to know, yet?"

"Nope."

It's short, the little smile on her lips doing little to mask the amusement in her tone, her brow quirking a little at the pout on your face.

"Patience."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Making a joking salute, you start to hum along to the radio, thumb caressing across the back of her hand.

She huffs, shaking her head but gives your hand a squeeze anyway.

The drive isn't overly long, no longer than any of the trips you've taken, about forty-five minutes on the road.

You feel like you almost recognise the roads she's taking but a right turn far before anything else comes up on the forested roads throws you a curveball.

Normally you'd been one of the more observant travellers on these roads, however, it seems you'd never paid the tiny dirt road any mind before now.

The greenery, denser than when you'd entered the little driveway, started to part into a small dirt and gravel alcove, to which Katrina pulls in, parking in front a small wooden bollard that lines the alcove.

There's dense green directly in front of you that splits into a small dirt and gravel path which disappears off to the right in a slow curve.

Reaching across the console, she taps your leg with a small grin.

"Hope you brought your hiking legs."

Scoffing, you nudge the woman and basically bounce out of the car in the face of her challenge.

"Damn right I did."

It starts off fairly easy, a basic hiking path for anyone, not much change in altitude but then it starts to increase, and you find yourself falling into the familiar rhythm that you love when it comes to hiking.

If you'd said that to your teenage self, she would've cried at the mention of cardio.

Katrina, it seems, falls into the same familiar feeling, the mild sweat from the hike mixing but also the complete relaxation in her stance as she moves beside you, ahead of you in smaller sections of the path and behind you as you move ahead to crest the more difficult bits first as a precautionary.

It's the first time you really fall into an understanding that someone else gets.

There's a peacefulness to the area surrounding you, bird chimes and occasional cicada chirps as you pass by certain bushes and grass patches.

You think you even spot a small rabbit hopping off the path ahead of you.

Finally, the incline slopes downward again, and then leads down and off to the left, the faint smell of moss and running water becoming more apparent to breathe in, it's refreshing.

"God, I've missed this."

She sounds rightly out of breath as she steps onto a particularly tall rock lodged into the path.

"You've been missing out, then?"

"Far too much, between how cold it got in Sweden and just not really going too far from the city, it's been a good while since I've even gotten to take Harper on smaller hikes."

"Damn, life of an athlete, much?"

A small joking lilt.

"Ha ha."

You can practically see her eye roll from where you're walking in front of the woman.

"It's not that bad, just keeps our lives hectic if anything."

You hum.

"How's Harper feel about that?"

You miss the way her lips curl up at the mention of the mini-mini.

"She loves it if anything, sleepovers with Nonna three times a week and when the international break pops up, she gets to stay with the team and see all twenty-two of her aunties and siblings."

The closer you get to the running water, the less the trees hang over the both of you and the more the suns starts to bead down on your light blue shirt, the warmth very familiar as winter shifts into spring once again.

It's been about an hour or so since you'd started off on the track.

She moves in front of you, turning with a small nod and grin in the direction of the beginning of a large clearing.

"C'mon, we're getting close."

The sun shines through the light brunette hair around the tops and sides of her head that most likely refused to be tied down properly, but in a neat, casual setting.

Slowing to a stop near where she's starting to descend a slightly steeper part of the path, you look out into the opening, a large water not far off to your one o'clock, the green moss abundant around its edges and the dampened ground surrounding the flowing water and the small pool built up around its base.

The pool breaks off into a surpisingly sandy bay that opens into a much larger river, flowing from another path away from you and out into what you see is the beach.

You nearly miss the small misstep as she steps on a mossed up stone, grabbing her arm to stop her falling, alarm on your face.

"Thanks."

"I gotcha."

You nod softly, hand squeezing her bicep, continuing jokingly.

"No hurting yourself, as much as I'd love to carry you back.."

She smacks you a little with a laugh before continuing down a different stone to avoid the same outcome.

"Real funny, Babe."

It's one massive secluded beach and it reminds you heavily of your first tryst together.

Only this time, it's much more private and less accessible, something you can almost appreciate with the nature of it all.

Privacy.

Another understanding between you.

As a public figure and known football player, Katrina knows the feeling well.

It doesn't come often, with media days a regular occurrence and spending near all of her time with teammates, club and country as well as with a two-year-old toddler at all hours of the day.

Of course, she wouldn't trade any of it for the world.

But privacy is a luxury that not even well paid athletes can afford.

So she understands the immediate droop and sigh of contentment when you see the vast empty beach and nothing but the sound of crashing waves and bird song behind you.

Letting your head fall back as you take in the cool summer breeze from the coastline, the smell of sea salt and damp greenery filling your senses, your head turns to look at the shorter woman.

She's already watching you, a small challenging smirk on her face that brings you back to the present.

"...What's up?"

"Nothing, I figured a nice walk and then a rematch would be a great way to start our day together."

"Rematch?... Wait-"

You're cut off as she suddenly pops out a soccer ball from behind her that she'd apparently managed to hide in her backpack the whole way, and tosses it towards you, darting off towards the beach.

"C'mon, I wanna see if you've learned anything yet!"

Jogging after her, you yell out.

"You mean that I'm not the professional footballer in this scenario and that I'm going to get my butt kicked again?"

"I'll make a baller out of you, yet, now get out here!"

It goes on like that for a while, how long exactly, you aren't sure but by the time you both land breathless onto the sand, mainly you, the sun is leaning more towards the other side of the sky.

"I hope you brought snacks, because I'm gonna need them after that last one."

Katrina giggles down at your dead flat form on the ground, chest heaving.

“You can’t give up on me now, to think you were just getting close to beating me.”

The teasing lilt to her voice makes you swat at her ankle lightly.

“Close, my ass. It’s like twenty-six to three.”

“Actually it’s about nineteen to six.”

She kicks you in the foot, tossing up a little sand in the air towards you in the process, landing near your face.

“Hey!”

“Whoops?”

Darting up, surprising yourself you tackle the woman into the soft white sand, landing on top of her.

“That is so not allowed, that was a dirty play ref!”

You call out to the imaginary sideline ref pointing off into the distance with a fake angry face on.

She’s laughing underneath you, almost breathless because of your weight on her stomach, and her hands settle to grip your hips, as you look back down at the woman with a small pout.

“Aw poor baby.”

It’s a little mocking tone that you pout more at.

Poking her tongue out up at you, she sits up slightly to tug you back down towards her, your hands landing either side of her head and you shift to be more level with the woman’s head.

“Hi.”

Grinning once again, you brush your nose against hers.

“Hi.”

A small peck to her lips is all she needs to tug you further down, fully sealing yourselves together, lips locked.

The breeze blows over your back, and the sounds of the waves wash away as you sink fully into the shorter woman, lips sliding across hers.

A new but familiar sensation, becoming accustomed to having the air in your lungs sucked from you every time you kiss her.

Sighing softly into her mouth, you take the opportunity to let your hand wander over the crook of her neck, before shifting to rest over her collar and then over her neck again.

It’s not intentional when you do it, but your thumb almost caresses the column of her throat and it’s her turn to sigh into the kiss.

Pulling away for a small breath, she notes the way your fingers now rest just under her jaw, on her neck, sending shivers through her.

If you noticed it, you don’t say anything, instead diving right back into her, fingers squeezing the skin slightly.

It seems you notice the way she hums into the kiss, a small smirk crossing your face as you let up once more.

The effect you have on her is shown well and truly in the way her cheeks redden and the part in her lips as her eyes open to meet yours.

“Hi.”

A warmth spreads through you at the smile she gives you once more.

“C’mon.”

Nudging you up once more, she pulls herself up, offering you a hand up.

Taking it, you stand close to her still, hands settling on her waist.

“So, what’s next then?”

Her hands grab yours and drag you over to where the bag lies in the sand.

“A little walk and wander and maybe a little bit more of that before dinner, hey?”

Grinning, you tug her towards the bag.

It’s just minutes back on the path that you tug her back into you for more.

You’d say you were someone who had quite the ability for self restraint, especially in previous relationships, but with Katrina, she’s just there, and it makes you want to kiss the daylights out of her every second you’re together.

Inevitably, it takes you both longer on the way back to the car, stopping every ten minutes to admire the scenery in a way only a couple making out against every tree can.

By the fifth time she’s resigned to let you do it every five minutes, more than happily letting the privacy you two have, consume you for the moment.

The way she tugs your neck down herself after an hour of this makes you well aware of the fact she feels the same.

Addicted to the way you taste.

Addicted to the way your lips slide so perfectly on her own.

By the time you get back to the car, you both look more than kiss-mussed, swollen lips, occasional purple marks over your neck when her teeth nipped at the skin.

Like love-sick teenagers.

But not that.

Not yet.

Pressed against the driver-side door, she looks up at you with a look you can’t describe other than pure and utter infatuation.

It makes your heart flip and twist like never before, the fact that someone can look at you like that.

It’s invigorating.

The brunette eventually lets go of you, and you pull back to let her off the car with a very content smile on your lips.

Opening the door for her, you gesture her into the car.

“Shall we go?”

A breathless nod and she’s in the car feeling as giddy as anything.

‘Breathe woman.’

She tells herself.

Settling into the passenger seat after packing the bags into the boot, you buckle in and the whole drive spent going to your next outing is one with clasped hands and small kisses pressed to the back of her hand and wrist.

When you pull up to a familiar club, it makes your heart swell a little.

She’d wanted to come back because the overall ambiance of the place was warm and welcoming and it made her feel comfortable in a place she wouldn’t normally spend any time going to.

Clubs have never been her thing but there was something about this one.

Maybe it was the fact you were involved in it. That it was attached to your first date together.

That would make sense.

You’ve been the deepest breath of fresh air she’s had in a long time. Even with the invigoration of her sport, her work, her home, her daughter. You’re new in her life and it makes her heart feel even more full.

The fact you adore every aspect of her life, her home, her family, makes it all that much better.

The fact that you ask to spend more time with her family without prompting when you both sit down for drinks makes her heart leap.

“Can we do the next one with Harper?”

There's a small sheepish smile on your face.

"It's just been a while since we've all had some time spent together and I miss her-"

Katrina cuts you off with a reassuring smile and a hand on yours.

“I was beginning to wonder when you’d ask again, of course we can, she’s been begging to know when she can see her new friend.”

You smile at the thought.

You had missed the little one quite a bit.

Her wide smile and nearly always happy personality brought so much light into your life that day.

When your drinks are sat down in front of you by a knowingly smirking Aiden.

“Whenever you ladies are ready, I’ve got you queued up with a classic.”

Taking a peek at the ipad in his hands, you see the song and roll your eyes.

It’s one you performed all the time for about three months straight because that’s all people would request from you.

Dragging the woman up with your drinks and a wink at the woman who’s just resigned to the fact she now has to sing every time she’s with you here.

There’s an adoration in her eyes as you step up onto the stage, keeping your eyes locked on hers and speak into the mic with a small wink.

“Hey everyone, we’ve got a good old classic today, it seems I’ve been requested of this one with my duet partner. Everyone thank Aiden for us.”

When the instrumental starts, Katrina half huffs at the song choice, half laughs.

Love Shack by The B-52

You start the song off, letting her get comfortable with the song first.

If you see a faded sign at the side of the road that says "15 miles to the Love Shack"

Love Shack, yeah, yeah I'm heading down the Atlanta highway Looking for the love getaway

Bouncing to the beat slightly, you encourage her to move with you, gesturing down at the second mic that has been slipped into her grasp.

Headed for the love getaway I got me a car, it's as big as a whale And we're headin' on down to the Love Shack I got me a Chrysler, it seats about 20 So hurry up and bring your jukebox money

You almost have to laugh, she's better at this song than most would expect.

In fact, you'd bet she was better than you.

The love shack is a little old place where We can get together Love Shack, baby (the Love Shack, baby) Love Shack, baby, Love Shack Love Shack, baby, Love Shack Love Shack, baby, Love Shack (love, baby, that's where it's at) Love Shack, baby, Love Shack (love, baby, that's where it's at)

The pair of you yelling the chorus into the mic has a few people in the bar up and singing along as well, a few whistles and cheers as the pair of you keep making eye contact with each other.

Sign says (woo), "Stay away, fools" 'Cause love rules at the Love Shack Well, it's set way back in the middle of a field Just a funky old shack and I gotta get back

There's something about the way she dips and kisses you mid song.

You know you're screwed when she pulls you back up and there's a wink thrown your way as she turns to the crowd and starts hopping along to the beat finally, encouraging them to do the same.

You never thought you'd be up here, jamming along with a woman who's been matching your adventurous nature since you've met her.

Despite being someone who has somehow managed to calm your erratic nature, she's also had the more energetic side of her brought out that she normally only sees amongst the kids of the team.

Glitter on the mattress Glitter on the highway Glitter on the front porch Glitter on the highway

There's a small giggle she let's out as you step up and belt out the next verse.

The Love Shack is a little old place where We can get together Love Shack, baby (Love Shack, baby) Love Shack, that's where it's at Love Shack, that's where it's at

You don't miss the small shake of her head when you poke your tongue out between your teeth cheekily at her.

In fact your eyes stay on her for the majority of the song, every movement, every gesture, every expression, every grin while she sings with you.

The sweetest brightest laughter as you both duck off the stage panting is what seals the deal for you.

Her eyes glint with joy up at you and that's when you know she has you hook line and sinker.

-

"So he had to bail you out?!"

"I know right?"

"Babe that is so not-"

"Waitwaitwait before you judge me on it-"

She snorts and covers her mouth at the small glare you give her across the table, having to silence your own laughter to make it hold even a remote amount of sincerity, though she knows otherwise by the quirk in your lips.

Standing, you gesture to the door, wanting to get away from the loudness of the bar for a few moments.

You continue outside into the slowly cooling afternoon air.

"The dude had it coming, he was being way too touchy with this poor girl and security was not doing anything-"

"So you drop him in a trash can after throwing hot sauce in his eyes?!"

"It was well deserved, she was very grateful to not be harassed by that asshole anymore. Besides, the assault charges were dropped when I offered to show them the club footage of him grabbing where he shouldn't"

"Still, you shouldn't have risked going to jail over that-"

"I'd have broken his nose, too, but I literally just had a manicure done finally after like a year of refusing to go, I didn't feel like being made to go back, again."

An amused shake of her head as you both slowly walk down the path to the carpark.

"You're something else."

"That better be a good thing."

She giggles at the half pearl clutch gesture you make in response paired with an offended look.

"Of course it is, babe."

Giving your hand a squeeze, she can only smile at the grumpy look you give her.

"Hush you."

"Or what?"

"Or I might just do something about it."

"Do it."

A beat of silence, your eyes locked on the cocky smirk on her face.

She's baiting you, you know it.

Of course, you take it.

Two steps back towards her.

Three steps pushing her back into the building wall.

One more to find your place pressed against her.

None to press your lips into hers like they'd never separated in the first place.

The small hum she lets out as you do so makes the idea of the very public display suddenly leave your mind, wanting nothing more than to hear more from her.

It's when you pull away gently with a tug and pop that you both pull back a little breathless.

"That works."

She says, eyes still closed, breathing ragged.

You notice a flash of movement, thinking it was a stranger walking by until a small body crashes into the woman in front of you.

"Mummy!"

"Oh my god, Harper what did I say about running off like that? Especially across roads?! You can't do tha-"

A huffing, clearly scared looking Charlie practically sprints around the corner, bent over at the knees.

Her head snaps up at the realisation of who Harper's managed to run into.

"Oh! Mini, Hi!"

The brunette looks a little unimpressed at the blonde.

You get the distinct feeling it's less from the interruption and more the words of the woman who'd just been sprinting after her daughter.

"Charlotte Grant..."

"Wait. Wait. I didn't- She ran off. I promise I was doing everything to chase her down. It was a little road."

Katrina sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The tiny human being attached to her leg looks up at her with an innocent grin on her face.

"Harper, what did we say about running off?"

Picking up the smaller blonde, sitting her on her hip.

Suddenly very sheepish looking like only a toddler can, she looks in your direction in search of something to avoid the conversation.

Of course, with you being you, she does very quickly.

Practically jumping into your arms with excited squeal, the small child latches onto you out of the older woman's arms.

"Y/n/n!"

Giving her a squeeze, a few giggles leaving your lips at the affection from the little girl you hadn't seen in person since that first day, only catching some time talking to the little one over a phone screen.

"Hi Harper, whatcha doin here, huh?"

"Goin to the park."

"Is that right?"

You smile and wave to Charlie with an amused glint in your eye.

The twenty-two year old nods sheepishly.

Looking down at the little one in your arms, you raise a brow in her direction, too.

She nods enthusiastically, her little arms wound tight around your neck as she lays her head on your shoulder.

Katrina watches the exchange between her daughter and yourself with a hardly hidden heart eyes look.

She'd totally forgotten that the park they usually go to is only a couple blocks from where you both were, but it's on the other side.

Raising her brows in Charlie's direction, a small questioning look on her face.

"I can... explain.."

Another pair of footsteps come running around the corner, too, nearly bumping into the blonde, a mop of now very messy wind blown brunette hair.

"Charlie did you get her- oof!"

Nearly ending up in a tangled mess on the floor, Charlie catches the both of them from falling.

"Idiot."

"Hey! You're the one that- Oh hey, Min', we were just- oh."

The mischievous look on Kyra's face that appears at the sight of you.

"That's what you were busy with today. Or who you were busy with."

She wiggles her brows at the older woman.

"I swear, do I need to start leaving you three with Nonna, again?"

Harper's head whips up so fast, you nearly clash heads and you're surprised she doesn't give herself whiplash.

"Nonna? Can we go see Nonna?"

"Sorry Harps', you can see Nonna tomorrow, it's just Kyra and ChaCha for now, alright?"

The little girl pouts for a minute before settling back into your arms.

"Oky, I stay wiv y/n/n, then."

You chuckle at her, before looking up at Katrina.

"Mind going for a walk to the park?"

She sighs softly, before shrugging.

"Alright, why not?"

You pass the little girl back to Charlie, much to her protests.

"One minute Harps, You can hop up again in a bit, I need to talk to mum first alright?"

She pouts before nodding.

You nod at the two to walk ahead, grabbing Katrina's hand softly.

"We can always continue later? You haven't got anything time sensitive?"

She shakes her head no with a small chuckle.

"Just a walk in restaurant, they're open late, though, it'll be fine."

You quirk a brow at her, and she makes the lip-zipping motion.

"C'mon, we've got a little girl waiting."

Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, you both walk slowly behind the group, though quickly get dragged into carrying Harper for the remainder of the walk, still holding hands with the shorter woman beside you.

The pair of twenty-somethings ahead bickering only serves as a reminder of how chaotic this life is for the Footballer, yet it doesn't bother you.

In fact, it feels like something so much bigger for you, something you could get behind.

You don't want to commit yourself so early, but you don't fight the way your heart swells with a little love each and every word you exchange with both Harper and Katrina.

By the time you're both wandering back to the car, late after Kyra and Charlie have left, taking the little one back home to bed.

Late after having sat and eaten and discussed everything from Harper to thousands of kilometres away worlds of a sport you've never found yourself loving before now.

At least now, it seems you've found your favourite people entwined with it.

It's then you find yourself wanting to learn more.

"Hey, I know this is probably something you hear with your work a lot, but just, talk to me about football, anything you want, the rules, the games, anything."

She looks a little surprised that you bring it up, considering you've never personally been a big sports fan, at least, as much as she's known for the past couple weeks.

"I thought you didn't want to know about it?"

"Actually, I want to learn about it, if I'm gonna be showing up to my sister's matches, and maybe get to see you."

You pause, and the last bit is said with a little sheepishness behind it, though you don't miss the way her smile widens at it.

"I wanna know about the game. Or even just your experiences with it. What do you love about it? Tell me anything."

With that, she starts off on where she started with it, how much she loved it as a kid, how she always spent time playing it with her brothers, her time in the academy, in the beginning with the youth team in Mount Gravatt, to her start with the Melbourne Victory and everywhere after.

How she came to Brisbane Roar, her time in the US.

Her injury, her time spent trying to recover. Of course, she's told you the basics of how Harper came to be.

She talks about some of the bigger games she's played.

About the upcoming World Cup in July.

"You should come see us play."

"You'd want me there?"

"Of course I would."

It's said short and almost in an offended tone, but it shows so much more for you.

She wants you there at the biggest stage of her career.

You don't protest it.

"I'll be there, then."

"Good, I would hate to have to pack you into a suitcase to drag you to camp with us instead."

A laugh escapes your lips at that, head tilted back in laughter.

"Of course you would. You're cute. No but seriously, are you sure? I wouldn't be intruding?"

"Hell no, if eighty thousand other people can be there to watch it, why can't you?"

"Fair enough."

You continue like that, laughing, chatting, letting her rant on and on about everything and anything because you could listen to this woman go on and on for hours with no complaint.

Swinging your joined hands as you both wander along the boardwalk she'd taken you to, you look out on the slowly darkening skies over the water.

The colours are as amazing to witness as always, to the point where you both settle on a bench to relax a bit and watch it darken a bit longer.

The sparkle of the fading sun behind you warms your backs as you both settle into each other, the shorter woman contentedly tucked into your side, words starting to slow and you both quieten to enjoy the moment.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

Turning your head to meet her gaze with the tips of her fingers.

"I like you. A lot."

You grin.

"I would hope so. Or this could be really awkward for- hey!"

She smacks your shoulder with a little roll of her eyes.

"Kidding. I really like you, too."

"Too? I only said like not really."

You guffaw at the woman.

"Hey!"

She giggles.

"Okay, I deserved that."

Grinning, you lean down to meet her lips for the what seems like thousandth time today, though, neither of you mind at all.

It's soft, sweet and much less urgent than all of the ones earlier.

It's easy.

You find it easier and easier with each pass to kiss her.

There's a way she spends the time holding your face, caressing the skin of your cheek, that has you in an absolute whirlwind of just... her.

It's invigorating beyond anything.

Yet also, cathartic.

She tastes like home.

And who knows, maybe this is what you've been missing.

The cathartic parts.

A way to calm an already chaotic life.

Sure, she's a professional footballer, that gets chaotic more than a lot of jobs do but it's the way she handles everything. Somehow able to juggle the life of having a child and playing football across the country and internationally when called to.

But to be honest with yourself, there's nowhere you'd rather be than with this somehow new cemented person in your life.

You can't wait to see where this goes.

-

"YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE GOING OUT WITH THE KATRINA GORRY!"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ashley! Chill!"

-------------------

[alicenpai]

"Lament! Terror! Despair! I shall kindly teach them all to you! And in your final moment, I... shall kill you by my own hand!!"

pandora hearts print for anime north this weekend 🥀🖤🤍

I also put this up on my inprnt! there's a sitewide sale for 40% off right now 🌟

For this drawing, I really wanted to emphasize the gothic and chaotic, convoluted nature of the series. Pandora Hearts has become a lot of things to me, as someone who's read it since I was like, 14 years old. but I eventually found the perfect words to sum up the series - a cross between a Shakespearean tragedy and a Grimm fairy tale.

The ink brush + watercolour brushes I used turned out so well together!! I wanted the style to be kind of a nod to like the manga cover art you'd see from the late 90s to 2000s, kind of like Mochizuki's early approach to traditional art.

A lighter approach to both the lineart + coloring also helped me not strain my arm too much - besides work, I stopped doing full illustrations due to the amount of work being heavy on my arm/shoulder T__T. my last full illustrations were the TGAA/DGS zine + WHA zine pieces back in Dec-Jan, but my heart really lies in illustrations more than anything and I definitely want to get back into it!! (as long as my physical health allows it!!)

anyways, above is the thumbnail/inspiration board for this drawing! I also did some quick chickenscratch studies of others' drawings to help me get a sense of their composition. I started on the top left and then made a sort of meandering curve through... definitely went through a lot of ideas for this one. If I explained the intended symbolism.. I would be here.. all day..............

the candles were definitely first inspired by an animation of a lighter I did during art skool... and then I did this AA Dahlia animated illust... and then this OC charm (below) I did in 2022...? maybe I should draw fire more often. it's like, the way that fire looks in animated keyframes that I really like drawing out, and I guess I kinda really enjoyed translating that into a non moving visual medium??

This drawing simultaneously took SO long but I also sped through it?? I had to like... not dwell too long on certain parts... like for example I think some individual character compositions really could be a lot stronger... because I knew this would be a beast of a drawing, I didn't want to spend an unnecessary amount of time focusing on details when I should be looking at the big picture. and I know that's a bad habit of mine!! I'm trying to unlearn my perfectionism!!

thanks for reading if you got this far, hope ya enjoy it!! and I hope I'll keep drawing Pandora Hearts in the future (clearly I haven't stopped since high school omg) and I hope to draw some more Vanitas someday beyond just chibis!

[jungkit]

HEARTS ON FIRE - YANG JUNGWON

SYNOPSIS: you lived your life buried in your parent’s routine for you. a perfect princess with a perfect life…or so one would think. now you’re being married off to the prince of valdenia for a trade operation. problem is, he already has a girlfriend, and he is not happy.

pairing: prince!jungwon x princess!reader

genre: royalty au, arranged marriage, enemies2lovers, non-idol au

word count: 8.1k

You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Here you are, a young woman with ambitions and dreams, being married off to some low-life prince. 

Being a princess is not easy, fuck everyone who says it is.

  From age 5, you have been taught, more like forced, to be a good princess. 

Following every rule, never stepping a toe out of line. 

You learned how to walk, how to talk, how to eat, how to be.

You were heavily reprimanded and punished if you ever appeared in a way your parents didn’t like. 

You can only be yourself when you’re alone, in your room. 

You are not allowed to indulge in your interests in front of your parents, who will shut you down immediately. 

  Your most immense love is art. You remember being ten years old and admiring the paintings your family kept in the palace. You pointed out every stroke, every color, every detail your eyes could find. When you told your parents you wanted to paint, they scolded you. They said art was a waste of time and that you had better things to do.

The following week, your parents had a professional painter come to do a family portrait. 

You got scolded for not holding still because you wanted to watch the painter. 

  The only good part of your life was Estelle. She was the head maid, and you loved her. 

She treated you as her own and let you indulge in every interest you had in secret. 

One day, Estelle showed up in your room with paint and a canvas.

You were so thrilled you almost screamed. 

You spent the rest of that day painting. Of course, you weren’t good, but that was okay. 

As time passed, you garnered a collection of paintings you had done, inspired by the ones you saw in the castle. Eventually, you got good! As much as you wanted to show your parents, you knew they would disapprove. And you didn’t want Estelle to get in trouble either. 

  Here you are over ten years later, still hiding your paintings in your room. You’re not worried about your parents finding them because they never enter your room. 

It’s almost time for dinner, and your parents said they had important news to share. 

As you make your way down, a pit forms in your stomach. Something suddenly doesn’t feel right. You do your best to ignore it, entering the dining hall. 

Your parents barely acknowledge your presence. 

“Before we start dinner, you must know something, Y/N,” your father says.

“Does this have to do with the news you told me about?”

“Yes, you’re getting married.” Your mother responds. 

  What? Did they say married?

“What are you talking about?” You ask, and that pit inside your stomach grows.

“You’re getting married to the prince of Valdenia. This is an opportunity to do business with them, and they only offered if we gave them your hand in marriage.”

  “Are you kidding? I'm being sold off for a business deal?”

Your father stands abruptly, slamming his hands on the table. “Don't speak to us that way! You have no choice in the matter!” 

  “This is my life we’re talking about. Who are you to give it away!” You can feel your eyes prick with tears.

You knew your parents didn't care for you the way they should've, but this was too far.

“We’re doing what's best for the kingdom!” Your mother argues.

“So, giving me away is what's best for the kingdom. I knew you didn't love me, but this is sickening!”

  With that, you rush out of the dining area.

You can feel the tears rushing down your cheeks.

Slamming your door shut, you climb onto your bed, still sobbing. 

  After five minutes, you hear your door slowly open. 

You figure it's your parents, and you're ready to tell them to get out until you hear a soft voice call your name.

You look up and make out Estelle’s figure through blurry eyes.

You spring up off your bed, running into her awaiting arms.

“Estelle, they're marrying me off,” you sob, burying your face into her dress.

“I heard, sweetheart. I hate to be the one to say this, but this could end up being a good thing.”

  You sniffle, looking up at her, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe you’ll find love. A love who will cherish you and let you be yourself. Look at this situation with an open mind. You never know what’s in store for you.”

  You stop crying, taking Estelle’s words in.

Could this be a benefit to you?

Could your life take a different turn?

You go to bed that night, a million thoughts racing in your mind. 

The following day, you don't speak to your parents as they tell you that you’ll all be meeting with the king and queen of Valdenia, along with their son.

Of course, they're acting like nothing happened. That's what they always do.

You're in one of your best gowns, a beautiful blush pink ensemble.

Unfortunately, Valdenia is a long 3-hour carriage ride from your kingdom.

The only thing you have to cure your boredom is a book.

  As you read, no one speaks. You're surprised your parents aren't whispering to each other as they usually do.

Time passes slowly. When you finally look up from your book, it’s mid-day. 

Looking outside the carriage for the first time, the once dull gray that was painted in the sky turned brilliant blue. 

  The kingdom of Valdenia comes into view. As your carriage rolls through, you see people all along the streets. Kids, vendors.

Every person you see has a smile on their face.

Compared to the people of your kingdom, this looks like paradise.

  Outside the palace doors, the king and queen stand alongside their son. 

Your parents step out first, and you follow.

Coming face to face with their son, he looks away from you, not meeting your eyes.

You scoff, looking down at your heel-clad feet.

  You're broken out of your trance by the queen's loud voice. 

The queen cups your face, squishing your cheeks together.

“Look how beautiful you are! Isn't she perfect, dear?”

She turns to her husband, who smiles, gracing his features.

  They both usher you and your parents inside. 

The prince follows you grudgingly.

As you enter the palace, you are welcomed into their charming dining room, where tea and finger foods have been prepared for your enjoyment. 

  You end up sitting across from the prince as your parents make small talk.

  You can feel him glaring at you. 

It’s so obvious, yet everyone seems to be ignoring it. 

You look up, finally meeting his eyes.

He doesn’t look away or soften up. He continues to glare. 

You haven’t even introduced yourself, and he’s already looking at you with hatred. 

You won’t stand for that, so you quickly slip him your middle finger.

His expression finally changes from anger to surprise before he’s frowning. 

  Jungwon’s never hated someone so much.

You’ve done nothing to him, but your existence already hinders his life. 

And here you are, flipping him off.

How rude!

  Yes, he was glaring at you, but even so, that doesn’t mean he deserved that!

He’s about to say something, hoping to get you in trouble, but he’s interrupted.

“We’ve set your wedding for next week,” his mother says.

“Next week!” You both say simultaneously.

Your parents send you a ferocious glare, making you shut your mouth.

“Yes, next week. Y/N will be moving in as well. We’ve already arranged for your things to be packed and brought here for tomorrow.” Jungwon’s mother gives you a genuine smile, and you almost feel a twinge of relief for a second.

  You can't remember the last time you had a genuine smile directed your way by your parents.

Maybe moving here won't be so bad?

“Can I say something?” You ask out into the open.

Your parents send you another glare, but the king of Valdenia nods, signaling you to speak.

  “I’m honored that you're opening up your home to me. Can I ask that I bring someone with me?”

  “And who would that be, dear?” The queen asks, looking at you with warm eyes.

“Our head maid, Estelle. She’s someone I rely on very much, and I'd hate to be without her,” you respond.

You look at your parents for approval, as do Jungwon’s parents.

“If you are okay with it, then we are as well,” your father says, gesturing to the king and queen.

  “Then it’s settled!” The queen claps; she’s delighted.

As both families continue discussing arrangements and wedding planning, you zone out.

This could either go good or bad.

You'll have to wait and see.

  All your belongings had been moved into Yang’s palace by the next day. 

Your room is enormous, more extensive than your own at home.

Or should you say, your former home?

Your parents didn't even say goodbye to you; although you expected it, it still stung. 

Luckily, you had Estelle.

She, with her belongings, arrived in Valdenia that morning. 

You rushed out to meet her, squeezing her tightly.

“Thank god you're here. I don't know if I could do this without you.”

  The Yangs (minus Jungwon) welcome Estelle with open arms. She helps you unpack, hanging up your dresses, blouses, and pants in your closet.

Meanwhile, you rant to her while sitting on your freshly made bed.

“He didn't even let me introduce myself! He left the second the meeting ended, even when his parents told him not to!”

  “Maybe he's shy, darling.”

  You huff dramatically, “He’s not. He was glaring at me with such hatred in his eyes. If looks could kill, I'd be buried 6 feet under!”

  Estelle sighs, “Maybe he just needs time to adjust. This is probably sudden for him, too.”

You take a deep breath and nod your head. Still a workaholic, Estelle leaves for the kitchen to see if there’s any work she can do.

Boredom finds you quickly, so you leave your room to tour the castle. 

You hear hushed whispers as you reach the end of a long corridor.

You lean in, straining your ears to hear the conversation. 

“I know this is upsetting, my love, but we’ll figure it out.”

You immediately recognize the prince’s voice, but who’s he talking to?

“I just want us to be together like we promised, and now you’re being taken away from me.”

That’s definitely a girl’s voice. 

It’s easy to piece two-and-two together. This is the reason why Jungwon hates you.

He has a girlfriend.

Jungwon speaks again.

“She’s not gonna come in between us. She’s nothing compared to you, Maylee.”

You can’t help but scoff. It’s not like you’re hurt, but he doesn’t even know you. 

“It’s not like you can tell your parents no…just marry her. We can still be together. It’s not like you love her.” Maylee chuckles, and you roll your eyes, silently mocking her.

  As soon as you hear the sound of lips smacking, you rush out of there and go back the way you came. 

You return to your room, staring at the paintings leaning on your desk. You managed to smuggle them out of your old room without your parents noticing. Maybe now you’ll be able to indulge yourself in your art.

  There's a knock at your door.

“Come in!” You shout.

The open door reveals Mrs.Yang, and she smiles at you warmly.

“I came to see how you're settling in.”

She spots your paintings and is immediately intrigued.

“Did you paint these?” She asks, taking one into her hands and admiring it.

“Yes. I've loved painting since I was little. My parents never allowed me to indulge, so I had to do it secretly.”

  “They're amazing.” The Queen gawks, and you feel a twinge of pride. 

 “You must keep painting!” She says, “I'd love to hang up your paintings in the palace.”

  Your eyes widen at her suggestion, “Oh no, I’m not that good. I’m nothing compared to the professionals.”

  “Nonsense.” She waves her hand, “You must allow me to display these. You deserve to be praised. And please allow me to buy you more supplies.”

  You try to decline, but she insists, and you don't have the heart to tell her no.

By the following day, you see your paintings hung in multiple areas of the palace.

  You decide to explore outside the castle, finding yourself in its large outdoor area.

There's a beautiful garden in front of you, and you take your time smelling every flower.

There's a bench in the center, and you sit down and take a deep breath.

  “You can't be here,” a voice behind you says.

Turning, you look Jungwon directly in the eyes, “Says who?”

“Says me, you're not welcome here.”

You bring your finger to your chin, pretending to look up in question.

“Hmm, according to your parents, I’m welcome anywhere and everywhere in and outside this castle. You wouldn't wanna go against their authority, would you?”

  You see his jaw clench, “Can you just leave? This place is reserved.”

You gasp, “Ah! This is you and your girlfriend's little spot, right?”

His eyes widen as he starts to sputter.

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me…or is it?”

With that, you get up making your way back inside the castle.

It takes a few seconds before you hear his footsteps rushing to catch up with you.

He grabs your arm, spinning you around to face him. 

  “You’re not gonna say a word about her to my parents, or else.”

You pout playfully, tilting your head, “Or else what?”

He can't help but chuckle in disbelief. He’s never been faced with this kind of attitude.

“I will make your life a living hell.”

It's your turn to chuckle, “I'd love to see you try.”

You take his silence as your cue to leave.

  That night at dinner, Jungwon eats his food roughly, pissed off.

How dare you speak to him the way you did! I mean, are you crazy?

Now, he can't help but keep his eyes on you, praying you don't expose his relationship.

“What did you do today, Y/n?” Mrs. Yang asks.

“I spent some time outside today, in the garden. I ran into Jungwon, and we had…a lovely conversation.”

Jungwon can feel his heart speed up. This is it. You're going to expose him. 

“Oh? What did you talk about?”

You smirk at him from across the table, “Just how excited we are for the wedding!” Only five days to go!”

  Jungwon visibly relaxes, and you catch his eye, sending a wink. 

He glares at you, sucking his teeth.

The eye contact is broken once his mother squeals, clapping her hands excitedly.

“I’m so happy you're both excited! It’ll be beautiful. We’ve made sure of it.”

  “It will truly be magnificent,” his father adds, patting Jungwon on the back.

He smiles, trying to hide his anguish behind his wine glass.

Dinner continues with Jungwon’s mother raving about the wedding: cake, decorations, guests.

“Mrs. Sim said she’s ecstatic to see you get married!”

Wait…the Sim’s? Jungwon suddenly starts to panic inside his head.

“The Sim’s are coming?” He asks, looking at his mother.

“Of course they’re coming, dear! You, Maylee and Jake were the best of friends growing up!”

  A lightbulb suddenly goes off in your head. 

Maylee? Of course, his girlfriend was his childhood friend. This new information sets a fire ablaze in your mind.

You smirk to yourself, shaking your head at the thought. 

“What’s got you smiling, honey?” Mrs. Yang asks.

“Nothing! Just thinking about my dress. I know you said it comes from the best in the world.”

  “Oh absolutely!” And she starts a long tangent of how renowned the maker of your dress is. She tells you small details so as not to ruin the surprise. Maybe it’s weird you haven’t seen your wedding dress, but you trust her word.

  Your eyes meet Jungwon’s again, and you blow him a kiss, chuckling as he looks at you in pure disgust.

  5 DAYS LATER

  When you wake up, your ladies-in-waiting immediately rush you into your bathing chambers. Your hair and body are thoroughly washed and scrubbed, your teeth are brushed, and your skin is prepped.

They bring you to Mrs. Yang’s room where you’ll be getting ready.

She smiles at you, ushering you forward. 

“Are you ready to see your dress?”

You nod, and your nerves are playing with you for some reason. Why are you nervous? 

  She unveils it, and you gasp in disbelief.

It’s beautiful. The neckline dips into a beautiful bodice with a butterfly in the middle. The design continues into the middle of the dress and its sides, with another butterfly at the bottom.

The sleeves are loose and flowy, and the skirt shines.

  “Mrs. Yang…it’s stunning.” 

“Only the best for a stunning girl,” she says, “I noticed that you paint a lot of butterflies, which is why I requested they be incorporated into your dress.”

It’s true. You do love butterflies. You loved trying to catch them when you were younger.

  Your mind begins to wander a bit. You remember imagining the day you’d get married. You didn’t expect it to be arranged, but the one thing you always hoped for was for your mother to be the one to see you in your wedding dress. 

She wasn’t here, yet Mrs. Yang was, and that’s more than you could ask for.

  Mrs. Yang brings in the stylists. They sit you down and begin to dote on you.

You see Estelle out of the corner of your eye and smile at her, giggling as she responds with two thumbs up.

Once your hair is dried and styled, they move onto your makeup. You decided on a light style, not wanting your makeup to outshine your dress.

Once it’s finished, they get you into your dress.

It fits you perfectly, and you almost squeal at how beautiful you look. Not to brag, but you think you look amazing. Once they place the veil on your head, you look complete—a perfect bride.

  The wedding is being held in the palace courtyard, with friends and family of the Yang’s filling up both sides of the seating. 

You’re not surprised to learn your parents didn’t come. 

But you have Estelle, and that’s all that matters to you.

  You make your way to the palace doors, knowing it has begun when the music starts to play.

Estelle stands by your side, ready to walk you down the aisle.

“You look beautiful. I never thought I’d see this day.”

“You’re all I need, Estelle. Thank you.”

As the doors open, you see everyone standing and looking your way.

You keep your gaze forward, walking one step at a time.

  Jungwon looks handsome. You can’t deny it. His suit is white to match your dress, and his black hair contrasts beautifully with it.

As Jungwon stares you down, he can’t deny you look beautiful.

You hear gasps and whispers as you make your way past the crowds. 

“She looks stunning.” 

“What a beautiful girl.”

“Jungwon is a lucky man.”

You chuckle to yourself if only they knew.

  Once you reach the end of the aisle, you stand across from Jungwon as Estelle takes her seat up front at your request.

Jungwon carefully lifts the veil, putting it behind you.

As you look into each other's eyes, you see something in his, an emotion you can’t put your finger on.

The minister clears his throat, bringing everyone’s attention to him. 

“Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today to witness the union of Y/N and Jungwon. Two souls brought together to become one. One soul, one body, one heart, and one mind. If anything should object to this marriage, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

  No one says a word. The silence is almost deafening.

  “Let’s begin. Marriage is a partnership of trust and dependence to one another while walking life’s long path. Marriage is about communication and commitment, sacrifice when needed, and love in the best and worst times. 

It takes time to build a good marriage, and we hope for nothing but the best for our bride and groom.”

  The minister turns to you.

“Y/N, do you take Jungwon to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love and cherish him; trust and commit to him, through joy and pain, in sickness and health, for as long as you both shall live?”

  You take a deep breath, “I do.”

“Jungwon, do you take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife. Will you love and cherish her; trust and commit to her, through joy and pain, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”

  “I do,” he says, and as he smiles at you for a second, you almost think it’s genuine.

“Then, with the power invested in me, I pronounce you, huband and wife. You may now kiss your bride!”

  Kiss? Nobody mentioned a kiss.

Jungwon knows what his parents expect, so he takes your face into his hands with a heavy heart, pulling you forward and molding his lips to yours. 

You want to feel disgusted, but you can’t. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck.

The cheers in the background drown out as your lips move passionately.

What’s happening? Are you and Jungwon not supposed to hate each other? 

  As you pull away, you notice your lipgloss has transferred onto Jungwon’s lips.

Instinctively, you raise your hand to wipe the lipgloss off, making the crowd chuckle.

Jungwon takes your hand as you turn to the crowd, waving as pictures are taken every second.

You walk back down the aisle, entering the castle for the reception in the grand hall room.

There’s food, drinks, music and most importantly the cake.

Everyone sits to eat. There’s a large selection on the menu.

You decide on a crab-based dish, putting on a bib to avoid getting anything on your dress. 

Jungwon sits beside you, eating his food and being quiet.

  Once everyone has finished eating, people start chanting for you to cut the cake.

You and Jungwon, along with everyone else, gather around it, and you cut the cake together.

Cheers erupt, and without thinking, you put some frosting on your finger before smearing it on Jungwon’s cheek.

Laughter fills the air as Jungwon looks at you in shock.

He doesn’t hesitate to fire back, targeting your cheek.

  You laugh as he kisses your cheek, smearing the frosting.

After enjoying the cake, a delicious vanilla custard that you adored, you make small talk with all of Jungwon’s family and relatives.

“Where are Jungwon, Jake, and Maylee?” Mrs. Yang asks. 

“Those three are always doing something secretive. Y/N, would you be a dear and go find them?” Mrs. Sim asks you, and you nod, getting up and leaving the room.

  You don’t care to find them, so you wander the halls aimlessly until you hear shouting coming from an empty corridor.

“What the hell was that?” That voice definitely doesn’t belong to Jungwon so it must be Jake.

“What are you talking about?” Jungwon asks, confused as to why he’s being yelled at.

“You were practically all over her!” Jake yells.

“You looked so in love,” a feminine voice says, that must be Maylee.

  “I’m not in love with her. We hate each other!” Jungwon insists, looking between the Sim siblings.

“Well, it didn’t look that way to me!” Jake retaliates.

“I just watched you marry and kiss another girl. Don’t you realize how terrible I feel?” Maylee asks.

“I get it,” Jungwon says, “But I had to look convincing to my parents!”

  “That bitch certainly didn’t seem to mind having you to herself,” Maylee says.

You clear your throat, smirking as the three look at you like deer caught in headlights.

“The next time you wanna argue and talk shit about somebody, maybe don’t yell and cause a commotion about it.” 

You walk forward, standing in front of Maylee, who’s between Jungwon and Jake.

“And next time… come say it to my face. Don’t be a pussy.” You throw the bouquet in her face, turn around, and walk back.

“You may need that,” you say as you leave the three dumbfounded.

  You devise some weak excuse about how you couldn’t find them, but within a minute, they all come shuffling back into the grand hall.

The night ends with everyone congratulating you and Jungwon as you hang off his arm. You catch Maylee’s eye as the Sim’s are leaving. You can’t help but be petty, shooting a wink and waving her way. She glares ferociously before being ushered out by her mother.

  You yawn, the day's events catching up to you. 

“Are you tired, sweetheart?” Mrs. Yang asks, cooing at you as you nod sleepily.

“You’re in luck. We just had your bedroom cleaned and prepared for you both,” Mr. Yang says.

“Wait,” Jungwon interrupts, “What do you mean for us both?”

“Well, now that you’re married, it only makes sense to share a bedroom!”

  You and Jungwon look at each other and then back to his parents.

“I understand your point, but we still barely know each other. Isn’t it a bit soon?” you ask, Jungwon nodding in agreement. 

“Nonsense! If anything, this will help you get closer!” Mr. Yang responds.

  Before you can argue any further, they bid you both goodnight. 

You both stand there for a few seconds, taking in this absolute setup.

“We could just not sleep in the same room? They don’t have to know,” you suggest.

Jungwon shakes his head, “They’ll know. They’re parents, they know everything.”

  “So you wanna sleep in the same room?”

“I don’t want to,” Jungwon says exasperated, “But we’ll have to.”

It turns out that the bedroom is the second-best in the castle, only after the king and queen’s.

“We can move all our stuff in here tomorrow. Let’s just wash up, get changed, and go to bed,” Jungwon says before making his way to his now-old room.

  “Wait!” You call out.

He turns around, raising an eyebrow.

“Can you unzip me? I can’t reach it.” 

Jungwon doesn’t think anything of it, reaching to unzip your dress.

That is until he sees the expanse of your smooth skin. Before he can stop himself, he’s gently running his hand down the middle of your back.

You freeze, not expecting his touch.

He snaps out of it and, before you can say anything, runs, leaving you in the corridor.

  You turn to your room, undressing and wearing comfortable sleepwear.

You enter the bath chambers and wash off your makeup, putting your hair into a protective style.

You return to the bedroom, finding Jungwon hasn’t arrived yet.

  The room is even bigger than yours. When you check out the closet, it expands even farther than yours.

The bath chamber has a tub, a separate shower, and two sinks. On one side of the room, there’s even a couch.

It’s perfect for two people.

  You hear the door close behind you, and Jungwon clears his throat.

“I can sleep on the couch so that you can sleep in the bed,” he says, already making his way to it.

“No, I’ll sleep on the couch!” You protest, grabbing an extra blanket from the closet.

  “I can’t allow that. As much as we don’t like each other, I can’t let a lady be uncomfortable.”

You sigh, “Then we’ll both sleep in the bed, just keep some space between us.”

Jungwon nods, and you both make your way to the bed.

You get in first, making yourself comfortable, and Jungwon follows suit.

Neither of you say anything, nor do you say goodnight.

Sleep overtakes you quickly.

  When you wake up, you notice an arm around your waist.

Looking beside you, Jungwon is still fast asleep.

You carefully remove his arm around you and leave the bed.

Heading to the bath chambers, you quickly shower, brush your teeth, and wash your face.

Jungwon is still asleep when you return, so you head down to breakfast without him.

  The king and queen are nowhere to be found, but breakfast is still laid out, ready to be eaten.

You sit down, preparing your napkin before digging in.

About ten minutes later, Jungwon enters the dining hall, hair disheveled and pajamas slightly unbuttoned.

He says nothing as he sits next to you and starts to eat.

He looks cute, you hate to admit.

His eyes are puffy from sleep and his cheeks are slightly bloated.

  “What are you staring at?” He asks.

“Nothing!” You respond, quickly turning back to your food.

It’s quiet for a few minutes before you speak again, “You must’ve slept well last night, considering I woke up with your arm around me.”

Jungwon freezes beside you, side-eyeing as you try to hold in your chuckle.

  “I normally hold a pillow when I sleep. It must’ve been an accident.”

You hum, not believing him for a second.

“I ran into my parents before coming here. They said we’re having dinner with the Sim’s tonight.”

  You sigh, “Do I have to deal with your girlfriend and her brother again?”

“No, but maybe don’t provoke her either?”

“But it’s fun,” you pout playfully. 

“Not for me. I get all the backlash!”

“Well, maybe tell them to knock it off!”

With that, you get up and finish your breakfast.

You go to your old room where all your clothes reside and bring them into the new room.

Jungwon had the decency to take up only one side of the closet with his things.

  Next is moving your paintings. The room has enough space to line them up nicely by the large window.

You prepare for the rest of the day, taking a long, hot shower and getting dressed in one of your gowns.

You head to the garden, sitting on the bench with your paints and canvas.

The sky is still shedding its orange rays.

So you sit, and you paint.

You paint until your hands become numb from holding your palette and brush. 

  By the time you’ve finished, the sky has shed its previous colors and welcomed a beautiful blue.

You paint that as well, blending the colors seamlessly. 

You paint the clouds, their shadows, and the scenery before you.

Each flower is painted with details someone else might never see.

But you see everything.

  You hear footsteps approaching from behind you, and Jungwon’s voice graces your ears, “The Sim’s are here. I was sent to get you.”

  Your eyes widen. How rude of you not to be there when guests arrive.

You quickly gather up your paints, brushes, and palette.

Finding your hands full, you look to Jungwon for help.

He takes note and carefully takes your painting into one hand, his other occupied by your easel.

You take numerous fast-paced steps ahead of him, rushing to get inside.

“Calm down, they’re not upset.”

You send him a glare as you walk even faster.

  When you reach the bedroom, you put everything away, Jungwon carefully setting down your easel and painting.

You stand in front of the full-length mirror beside the closet door and fix your appearance.

Rushing wasn’t a good idea as your hair is now disheveled, strands flying everywhere.

You brush your fingers through it, calming any flyaways and loose hair.

  Turning around, you see Jungwon still there, staring you down.

“What?” You ask. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, you look fine. Let’s go.”

He holds out his arm, looking for you to interlock yours. 

You do as such, putting your other hand over his.

When you arrive in the dining hall, the Sim’s, minus the siblings, look at you both warmly.

Jungwon pulls your chair out, and you thank him quietly before he sits beside you.

  Everyone begins to eat while the parents start a quiet conversation.

You can feel eyes on you, but you don’t look up to catch them.

“So,” Mrs. Sim says, “How’s married life treating you both?”

You put on your “fake but real” smile. “Well, it’s only been a day. I don’t think we’ve experienced any real marriage life yet.”

Mrs. Yang interrupts you, “Nonsense. I heard them having a couples spat the other day. Of course, I don't know what it was about, but it’s not my business. They’re both adults. They can keep it between themselves.”

  The Sim’s laugh, and the Yang’s as you and Jungwon smile awkwardly.

“Oh, and they don’t know this, but I went into their room to check on them this morning. It was so cute how Jungwon wrapped his arm around you while you slept,” Mrs. Yang says, turning to you.

  Jungwon suddenly chokes on his food, coughing violently as you hit his back.

Mrs. Yang looks at Jungwon, “Careful, sweetie. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but I couldn't help it! My baby boy is embarrassed,” she coos.

“Mom,” Jungwon grumbles as he finally stops choking.

He looks at Maylee to find her glaring straight at him, and he gulps heavily.

  “Excuse me, I have to use the restroom,” Maylee says, quickly ushering herself out of the dining hall.

After five minutes, her parents question her whereabouts, and Jungwon takes this as his chance.

“I’ll go look for her!”

He rushes off, running through the corridors looking for her.

Suddenly, he hears a crash coming from the bedroom.

He darts to it and finds himself in the middle of Maylee destroying your paintings.

“What the hell are you doing!” He yells, dragging her away from the now slashed canvases.

His yell alerts everyone still at the table, and they’re rushing in within seconds.

  You get one look at your destroyed paintings before you collapse on your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“What did you do?” you ask, looking at Maylee and Jungwon.

“This is what you get for stealing my man, bitch!”

The Sim’s and Yang’s look between you and Maylee before Mrs. Sim speaks up, “Sim Maylee, what on earth are you talking about!”

  “You wanna know the truth,” she starts, “Jungwon and I have been dating for three years. 3! And all of a sudden, this bitch makes her grand entrance as his soon-to-be wife? Are you fucking kidding me? She’s been cuddling up to him this whole time, and I’m sick of it!”

  You get up, and before anyone can blink, you slap Maylee across the face, “How dare you. You’re mad about our arranged marriage, so you destroy my life’s work?”

She holds her now red cheek, staring at you in disbelief.

You turn to Jungwon, “I know you hate me, but this is too far.”

With that, you turn and leave the room, running through the corridor and leaving the castle.

You run and run as far as your feet will take you.

  Jungwon turns to Maylee, “This…this was too much Maylee.”

“So it’s true?” Mrs. Yang interjects

“Yes, mother, it’s true. I said nothing because I knew we’d be forced to break up if you found out. We planned to keep our relationship a secret even after my marriage.”

He turns back to Maylee, “How could you do this?”

“Why are you defending her?” she shouts. “I’m your girlfriend; you should be on my side.”

  “But you’ve crossed the line, Maylee, and dragged me into your mess, too!”

Mrs. Sim crosses the room and yanks her daughter by the arm. “Let’s go! Say goodbye because, as far as I’m concerned, you two will not see each other anymore.”

She drags Maylee out as she struggles in her mother’s hold while Mr. Sim puts his hand on Jake’s shoulder, dragging him out as well.

  The Yang’s are left in the room, glaring at their son.

“I’m very disappointed in you,” his father says.

Jungwon hangs his head in shame, “I know. I just… didn’t want to end my relationship with Maylee. We fell in love over time and never had the guts to tell any of you. But I don’t condone this! I would’ve never done something like this!”

  “You need to find Y/N and apologize to her immediately. You should’ve stopped Maylee’s actions when she first showed hostility.”

Jungwon nods, and with that, he begins his search for you.

He passes some maids, asking where you went, and they tell him you ran outside the castle.

As he makes his way outside, a guard rushes up to him. “Prince Jungwon, the princess ran out here in a frenzy. We tried to go after her but were ordered not to leave our post. She ran into the woods outside the castle!”

  Jungwon books it, running as fast as he can, shouting your name. He runs through trees, swatting branches out of his way.

Then, he hears it. Soft sniffles came from in front of him.

He approaches you carefully, not wanting to startle you or make you run away.

“Y/N?”

  You turn around, glaring once you see it’s him.

Standing up, you begin to walk away from him, but he’s faster and grabs your arm.

“Wait! Please let me explain! I had nothing to do with Maylee destroying your paintings. I didn’t tell her to do it. I didn’t participate. I don’t hate you. I’ve been in the wrong this whole time. I treated you terribly when you did nothing wrong, and I’m sorry.”

  “Those paintings were priceless to me, Jungwon. What am I supposed to do now?” 

He takes your hand, “Make new ones and new memories?”

You bite your lip, “You’re right, and I’m sorry, too. I was hostile towards you when you were also in a shitty situation.”

He waves his hand, “Let bygones be bygones and regarding Maylee, I think it’s fair to consider her my ex now.”

  Jungwon holds out his hand, “Let’s go home?”

You take his hand, and the both of you make your way back to the castle. 

Mr. and Mrs. Yang welcome you back with open arms, literally holding you in their arms. For the first time in forever, you feel like you’re with family. 

Estelle helps you and Jungwon clean up the destroyed paintings. You decide to throw everything away, wanting to make new memories like Jungwon said. 

  That night, you and Jungwon get into bed with a newfound friendship.

  The morning light shines through the curtains, and it makes you squint. 

You look beside you and see Jungwon is gone.

Sitting up, you stretch before preparing to get out of bed. 

“Hold it right there! Breakfast in bed for the lady.” Jungwon comes in with a whole tray of food. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast, with a glass of orange juice.

“Jungwon, you don’t have to do nice things for me. We’ve forgiven each other for past mistakes. There’s no need for this,” you say, smiling at him.

  “I want to do this. I want to make up for my wrongdoings, so please, just let me,” he pleads.

He sets the tray down in front of you. 

You pick up your fork and knife, cutting into the pancakes. You hold out your fork for Jungwon, “Say ah!”

A light blush dusts Jungwon’s cheeks, but he accepts the food graciously. 

You gesture for him to sit next to you in bed, “Let’s talk.”

He complies, “Talk about what?”

“Anything,” you say, “What are your plans for today?”

  “I didn’t have any plans for today. I thought maybe we could go out and paint! I’ve never done it before, but it looks fun!”

You smile as you eat, “I think that’s a great idea.”

When you (and Jungwon) have finished breakfast, you gather all your art supplies again and make your way outside the castle, this time with Jungwon in tow. 

“So, first things first. There are no rules when it comes to art. You can do whatever you want, as long as you like it.”

  You’re facing the woods, so you tell Jungwon to paint that. He begins, and within half an hour, he’s finished. He presents his final product to you like a shy kid, and you can’t help but coo.

Surprisingly, it’s not bad for a complete beginner.

“So right off the bat, I can tell you understand color. What you’re missing is lighting and shading. Notice how some are lighter when the sun hits the trees while the branches in the back are darker?”

  As you ramble on and on, Jungwon can’t help but think you look beautiful. You’re talking passionately, and he can’t stop staring in awe. 

He doesn’t even realize you're calling his name until you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“Are you listening? This is important!”

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I can just tell how much you love art, and I think it’s cool.”

  You hum, “Well, thank you. What about you? What’s your favorite thing?”

Jungwon contemplates momentarily before looking down at the grass, “I don’t have one.”

You frown, sitting next to him on the bench.

“That’s okay!” you say. “We can find your favorite thing; we just have to experiment!”

  Painting class for the day officially ends there, as you’re now determined to help Jungwon.

As you walk the corridor castles, you ask, “So, what do you like to do?”

“I like sports. The guys and I usually play rugby when we’re all free.”

You recall being introduced to 5 other boys who Jungwon said he grew up with, Jake included.

“I don’t think you can teach me that.” You laugh as Jungwon smiles shyly beside you.

“What else?” You ask.

“Well, I like to sing.”

“Really?” You ask, surprised.

  Jungwon nods, “I always loved putting on performances for my parents when I was younger.”

“Well, sing for me!”

“But I’m shy,” he says, looking down as his cheeks become red.

“Come on,” you whine, dragging out the n, “I’m your wife. You don’t need to be shy in front of me.”

“Not you pulling the wife card.” He laughs.

“Please.” You pout, putting on your best puppy eyes.

Jungwon takes a deep breath before he starts to sing, and you’re immediately captivated.

  His voice is like honey. It’s smooth but slightly raspy, and it’s like an angel singing in your ears.

When he finishes, you clap excitedly.

“Jungwon, you’re so good!”

He gives a small thanks while you keep walking.

You think you’ve found a new obsession.

  Jungwon sits on the picnic blanket beside you, singing quietly to you as you watch the sky.

You sit up abruptly, causing Jungwon to stop.

“Do you think in a different universe, we would’ve been friends first before anything?”

Jungwon ponders for a moment, “I don’t see why not. Let me ask you something: do you think we could make our marriage work?”

  You turn to Jungwon, eyebrow raised, “You mean, like, romantically? I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” You smirk, causing Jungwon to turn away quickly.

“I mean, you’re beautiful. I can’t help but think, now that things are good between us, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try. The last thing I want is to be in a loveless marriage.”

  “Sure, we can try.” You turn yourself towards Jungwon, touching his cheek to make him face you.

“Kiss me,” you say.

Jungwon’s eyes widened. They dart to your lips quickly before finding your eyes, “So suddenly?”

You figure he’s not going to do it, so you do.

Leaning forward, you capture his lips with yours.

He kisses you back, pulling you closer with a hand behind your head.

His lips are soft, and he tastes like the strawberries and chocolate you had.

  It’s passionate. It feels like sparks are going off. This kiss is different from the one you shared on your wedding day. This one feels natural like it’s a kiss with love and not for show.

Before it can go any further, you pull away, giggling as Jungwon chases your lips.

He whines, “Don’t tease me!”

“I’m sorry! You’re just too cute.”

“Don’t wanna be cute to you,” he mumbles.

“You don’t wanna be cute? Do you wanna be more than that? Like what?”

“Handsome, hot, sexy?”

“Who said I don't find you hot, handsome, and sexy?”  

  Jungwon smirks, “Do you?”

You push Jungwon’s shoulder back, throwing your leg over his, straddling his lap.

He brings his hands to your waist, holding it tightly.

“What if I said I think you’re the sexiest, hottest, most handsome man I’ve ever seen?”

He rubs circles into your waist, “I'd say you're the sexiest, hottest, most beautiful woman I've ever seen.”

You lean in for another kiss, nipping Jungwon’s bottom lip. 

  God knows how long you spent there. After coming inside, you sit down for dinner with the Yang's.

“So, what did you two do today?” Mrs. Yang asks.

“We had a picnic!” You respond. “Jungwon prepared everything, and it was amazing.”

Mrs. Yang asks for details, and the two women talk excitedly while Jungwon looks at you with fondness. 

  As you lay in bed that night, you think about how drastically your relationship with Jungwon has changed.

You dreaded this marriage, being forced to be with someone you didn't love. And now? Your perspective has completely changed. 

Jungwon is a fantastic person. You wish you had seen it earlier.

  Do you think you could fall in love with Jungwon? You believe you already have. While the thought almost scares you, your feelings for Jungwon overcome that.

Your thoughts are interrupted when Jungwon comes out of the bathroom, having thoroughly washed up.

He joins you in bed, turning to face you as you smile at him.

“What?” He asks, smiling back at you.

  You raise your hand, stroking the area above his eyebrow, moving the hair in the way. 

“I think I love you, Jungwon.”

Jungwon's eyes widen, and then they soften.

“I think I love you too, Y/N.”

You don't say anything else as you lean in, kissing him.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

  2 WEEKS LATER

Jungwon plays with your hair as your head lays in his lap. His nimble fingers find their way to your cheek, grazing over it. 

You look up at him, meeting his eyes.

Puckering your lips, he laughs, bringing his to yours in a sweet kiss.

“There's a festival in the town tonight. Do you wanna go?” He asks.

“What’s it gonna be like?”

“Games, music, food, the works.”

“Sounds fun, I'd love to go!”

  Night comes quickly, and you've just finished preparing for the festival. 

Jungwon comes out of the bathroom, ready as well. 

“You look beautiful, my love,” he says, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around you. 

“And you look dashing.”

  The festival is in full swing by the time you and Jungwon arrive.  

People greet you as you pass, giving you gifts and free things. 

You take them all graciously, thanking them for their generosity. 

  You and Jungwon find a private spot, taking time to admire the view of the town ahead. 

“I got you something,” he says.

You turn to him, eyebrows furrowing when he pulls out a small box.

  “I know we had a rocky start, but I have to say that these past few weeks with you have been some of the best I've ever had. I know our vows weren't exactly the most genuine, but now, I mean those words genuinely. You are an amazing, passionate, loving, caring woman, and I love everything about you. I truly promise the rest of my life to you.”

  With that, he opens the box, presenting a beautiful gold necklace. You gasp in surprise as he shows it to you. 

“Jungwon, it's stunning.”

“I got our initials engraved on it, so we're always together no matter what.”

  As he puts it on you, you think to yourself, maybe this life was meant for you.

In the end, you got your fairytale ending.

note: this took me entirely too long but it's done!! i hope you all enjoy!

taglist: @jiamini @dokidokior @26796i