#the reflections in the first gif!! and the dancing in rings in the second!!! and the dresses flowing!!! agh!!!!!

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#51: The Mr. & Mrs. Grimes (1.05)

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

The utter perfection of this scene continues as Rick's beautiful words are met with a beautiful response from Mrs. Grimes. 🥲

I adore that after both staying so loyally in love with each other, Michonne and Rick get to now look into each other's eyes and express that all these years, it was always only you 🥹...

One of the many reasons that Richonne resonates with me so much is because this TWD world could easily have been strictly bleak, dark, and dreary, and yet Richonne’s love bursts in with this bright light that refuses to dim no matter the state of their broken world.

Richonne is this inspiring reminder that love prevails even in the hardest circumstances. And Richonne's enduring love shines so brightly in this proposal scene.

So yeah, the happy dancing will never be out of my system over every second of this moment. 😇💍 Because one thing that always comes with the territory of being a Richonne fan...

As Rick holds up a ring while on one knee looking up at the love of his life, Michonne has such a precious heartfelt reaction to this. 🥰

I paused it for a sec and my extra self literally just had to stop and marvel for a moment that I’m really looking at a scene of Michonne smiling down at Rick as he holds up a ring. 🫠

After years of saying one of my biggest wants was for Richonne to exchange rings (because I really felt it was something those two characters would do), it just feels so rewarding to see that we finally made it here. When I tell you I was elated for them like it was my close family member getting proposed to lol. This joyous scene makes me so happy. 

gif cred: @nat111love

Michonne smiles at Rick, again with so much love in her expression. You can just see that she’s so happy to have her Rick back. All those years without him and now here he is alive, at his finest, and wanting to show her that he’s with her for the rest of his life. 😊

Michonne says, “I could have never imagined this.” And then she smiles and so sweetly says, “But it could only ever have been you.” Once again, PERFECTION. 🙌🏽🥲

gif cred: @nat111love

I'm loving the use of ‘only’ in this scene. Michonne and Rick both know they are the only one for each other. And it’s just so beyond heartwarming to hear Michonne know Rick is it for her. The only man she’d ever want to be her husband.

Pre-ZA, Michonne might have never been able to imagine that her soulmate would take form in Rick Grimes. Even when their paths first joined in season 3 she might have never expected that this man who constantly eyes her down would be the man she calls husband and the father of her children one day. But now there’s no denying that in any world Rick is the one for her. The ultimate soulmates. 🥰

gif cred: @nat111love

And Michonne has known this for so long. She's long been aware that she only ever wanted it to be Rick for her. I think about that beautiful 7.08 scene between Richonne in the cell where Michonne pours her heart out to Rick. There, she let him know he was the only one that she wanted by her side to take on everything in life with. And it's stayed that way for her all these years later. 🥲

I like to think that when Michonne expresses that it could only ever have been Rick who has her heart, she thinks back on their journey and reflects on the way Rick took her in at the prison instead of just taking the formula.

The way he entrusted her with his son time and time again, even very early in their relationship. The way she and Rick bonded over having similarities that most others wouldn’t understand.

The way she saw over and over that Rick will do anything for his family.

And that Rick will do anything for her.

The way Rick is a fighter who never gives up and also a lover who never holds back.

The way he resiliently overcame the battles in his life, both external and internal. The way he genuinely saw and valued both Michonne's heroism and her humanness. And as she’s said before - the way Rick makes her feel loved, respected, and safe like no other.

It could only ever have been this excellent one-of-a-kind man for her. Another scientific fact. 💯

So then, y'all, you already know what's next - Michonne does the most heartfelt thing ever. She smiles, takes Rick's hand, and then gets down on her knees so that they are on the same level. 😭

Then she puts Rick's hand to her heart and so sincerely tells him, “I’m Yours.” 🥹

gif cred: @nat111love

And go ahead and take me out to pasture because my heart has officially ascended from this solid gold scene. 🫠 I love it so much. 😭😭😭

I don't know whether to burst into tears or to happy dance right now, so imma just do both...

First; just the visual of the two on their knees is so perfectly symbolic to Richonne and the way they are equals in every way. They always meet each other where they’re at and match each other's love, energy, and fidelity.

I love that the moment with Rick on his knees gets its time to breathe and just depict the way he reveres her, and then Michonne gets to also show how much she loves and respects him when she joins him on her knees and lets Rick know that just like he’s hers, she’s his.

I adore the reciprocity of Richonne's love and loyalty. They’re so wholly devoted themselves and they finally get to experience someone being wholly devoted back.

And on top of elating me to no end, hearing them both say, “I’m Yours” also just affirmed to me why I think Richonne is such an excellent portrayal of a healthy couple. Because I think a lot of couples tend to have more of a “You’re mine” mentality that can be a bit more possessive and concerned with the other belonging to them.

But Rick and Michonne both put so much more emphasis on an “I’m Yours” mentality, actively being loyal, thoughtful, and dedicated to each other. They don't demand ‘You belong to me’ but rather happily demonstrate ‘I belong to you’ with every loving action and word they express. And that manifests as this equal outpouring of the deepest love. 👌🏽

gif cred: @perryabbott

And my favorite part about Rick and Michonne telling each other ‘I’m yours’ is how much they have already truly lived out those words.

Like this isn’t just flowery talk. Both when they were together in TWD and then when they were apart for over eight years, they genuinely lived out every day of their life like they were fully each others.

I remember that was one of the things I most noted about Michonne in the post-Rick era of TWD, she was still so actively in love with Rick. Like truly no other man could have come along because her love for Rick was still so alive.

I mean even when Ezekiel kissed her, all she wanted to do after was tearfully reminisce on the man she was still in love with and recount the exact amount of years it'd been since Rick last kissed her.

gif cred: @michonnegrimes

Michonne knew Rick Grimes still had her heart and even with all the years that passed and having every reason to think she’d never see him again, she lived life like she was still his.

So when Michonne tells Rick 'I’m yours,' she’s already lived that out and proven it ten times over.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

And when taken, Rick fought as hard as he could and put his mind and body through the unimaginable to get back to her and he never once moved on from Michonne, even when he chose to die.

He routinely dreamt of falling in love with her, continuously poured his heart out to her in letters, and commissioned several drawings of her. Then when he decided to 'die' because he refused to live without her, the dead version of him still made every choice out of his everlasting love for Michonne.

So when Rick tells Michonne Grimes, 'Til my last breath, I'm yours,' he’s already more than proven it in every way too.

They now know what it is to be without the other for an extended period and they still conducted themselves like 'I am 100% yours always.' 🥹 The greatest love.

Also, I love that this proposal moment takes place in the middle of the woods. So much of Richonne’s roots were established in settings like this. They’ve had a lot of notable woods moments, especially when traveling with Carl, and so this just feels like them taking it back to where it all started for this milestone moment.

One of the woods moments that comes to mind for me right now is in season 3 when Michonne is aiming her sword at Merle and Rick is constantly staring her down and keeping his attention almost solely on her despite so much commotion going on from everyone.

Imo, Rick stares at Michonne a little too much and a little too long for it to just be written off as casual or merely trying to diffuse the situation.

(Side note: I love that Danai and Andy said this is one of the earliest moments that they knew they had a special chemistry as actors. They really did make a scene surrounded by other characters feel like it was just the two of them. ☺️)

To me, it seriously feels like each time Rick looks at Michonne in this scene (and in many season 3 scenes really) he feels something he’s ‘not supposed to’ feel and sees something he wasn’t expecting to see - because, without being cognizant of it yet, he sees his future. He sees himself. He sees someone his heart wants and desires in this intriguing, intoxicating, and soul-filling way.

And so it’s almost like in those early days Rick kept staring at this captivating woman partly confused because he’s supposed to just look at her and see a suspicious stranger, but instead somewhere deep within him what he really sees is his other half, someone he’s meant for and whose meant for him, someone capable of getting him to get down on one knee in the woods and profess his undying love for one day. 🥲

Like he's trying to look intimidating in this s3 scene with Michonne but then Rick always has this shift in his expression like he’s more genuinely dazed from the fact that looking at Michonne for some reason is like looking in a mirror. Looking at her, little did he know he was seeing his universe all in one person.🥹

And as for Michonne, I adore that she has known for so long that she's with Rick no matter what. From "I'm still with you" pre-canon to "I'm yours" post-canon. It's always him for her. 🥹

Also, I just have to note the way Rick looks at her when Michonne makes her way down to her knees is always so swoon-worthy to me. 😊 It's been such a great journey watching Richonne's stares soften over each season to the point that now they look into each other's eyes so utterly in love.

gif cred: @nat111love

So after Michonne says she's his, they share another ten out of ten kiss and it’s just the perfect way to close out the scene. 👏🏽😭

I love how Michonne is smiling through the first kiss, and the way Rick's holding her, and the fact that of course the passion only continues to ramp up between them as they wrap their arms around each other.

gif cred: @nat111love

I think about how in TOWL ep 3, Rick and Michonne were on their knees in CRM uniforms kissing in the woods but not yet on the same page.

And now they’re back to their more usual attire and on their knees kissing but fully in sync again and ready to both handle the CRM and go home. Mr. & Mrs. Grimes are 100% back. 😌

gif cred: @nat111love

And I love how it's the masterpiece Episode 4 that got Richonne from point A in ep 3, on their knees in the woods unsure of how to escape with much to reconcile, to point B in ep 5, on their knees in the woods, reaffirming 'I’m yours,' and fully on one accord again.

So then, after this solid gold scene, they cut to Father Gabriel waiting on a log but Jadis isn’t going to be showing up this time around. What Father G doesn't know is Jadis was attempting to threaten Richonne and ASZ and so after just a day of aiming to kill them, Rick and Michonne had to go ahead and send her to the underworld same-day delivery. 📦👌🏽

But Rick and Michonne also have very good hearts and so it seems they left a burial site for her, marked with an 'A' stone.

That 'A' has some layers to it because one; it’s like Rick and Michonne are allowing her to die as Anne the Artist rather than Jadis the Snake, with Anne seeming to have been her better and more human persona.

And two; seeing the 'A' to me always feels reminiscent of how Jadis would spray paint As on the holding containers in the trash heap. It was very kind of Richonne to give her a burial and to put an ‘A’ for Anne instead of an “S” for Snake/Serpent/Scam Artist. 

gif cred: @perryabbott

A helicopter flies above the burial site and, even tho we don't get to see Richonne inside, I love we get to at least know that Michonne got to see her man fly a helicopter.

If Michonne and I are really on the same wavelength like I think we are, I know she thought Rick piloting the helicopter was sexy. 😊 Probably sitting in that helicopter and watching him like...

And as their helicopter flies off into the sky, that concludes episode 5, with Richonne and us now soaring into the TOWL finale. 👌🏽

Honestly, on rewatch I do like episode 5 better than I thought. It’s still not as high as 1-4 but the Richonne content is just so great in this ep that I still very much enjoy it. 😌 And that's how you know your ship is an abundance of riches when even the lower-rated ep still has some solid gold scenes and a top 10 all-time scene. 👑

gif cred: @lousolversons

Before I even wrote a single word of this breakdown, I knew this specific scene's revelings would be a long two-parter - because I mean, for longtime Richonne fans this proposal scene is just better than a dream. So I had to do my best to go as all out as I could when gushing over every detail. 😋

I adore that after years of Rick dreaming of having this proposal with Michonne, the two of them finally got to share this moment. And it was as beautiful as can be.

gif cred: @nerd4music

Rick and Michonne both are just so aware that they’ve found a true treasure in finding each other, and I love that this scene so perfectly captured their stunning love and their commitment to belong to each other forever and always.

It was a joy to see Richonne so clearly establish that they are Mr. and Mrs. Grimes, until the end of time. 🥳💍🙌🏽🎉🥂🎊

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

hi! loving your art. I was watching your awesome stories/gifs and I was wondering: how did Chang develop his feelings for Tintin? Did he discover them before or after him? How did he react and why? (English is not my first language so if you see a grammatical mistake, I'm sorry. Also, sorry if so many questions made you feel like you were in a philosophy exam)

Thank you so much! As a contrast to the rest of the Marlinspike team I'm writing Chang as someone who makes friends and develops crushes pretty easily!

I imagine he's had a crush on Tintin for some time, possibly from when they first met. He's been at the mercy of his circumstances for most of his life until that point - Tintin basically makes him feel capable of doing stuff.

He's pretty heartbroken after the Blue Lotus. Tintin doesn't contact him for years. Chang is struggling to adjust to his new family and is failing at school, having missed out on a good education for a few years prior. Until Tibet he feels pretty hopeless, he will never live up to the time when he took down a drug ring.

His near death experience in Tibet shakes him out of this rut. He starts to travel and take up hobbies like dance and photography. Didi trains him in some basic martial arts. Tintin makes an effort to actually stay in touch this time. Chang has some abandonment issues as he's frequently lost people throughout his life, so he's someone who's willing to give people second chances, even if they've hurt him badly. Chang thinks he's well over his crush on Tintin when he comes around to Belgium for his studies, but falls for him again very quickly!

Unlike Tintin, Chang is a lot more comfortable with who he is. He's used to being the odd one out and has generally low expectations for himself, so just goes with the flow.

Below I talk a little with how I'm going about writing him and the historical context surrounding this, cw for mentions of racism (sinophobia) and queerphobia:

I'm writing Chang as bi, I thought it would be interesting to explore as Asian men were perceived differently in the 30s compared to today. While Asian men in the West are currently heavily desexualised in the early 20th century they were stereotyped as predatory and deviant. In London a lot of Chinese immigrants were male dockworkers, so when they married white women there was a lot of fearmongering about predatory and disloyal Chinese men.

A lot of depictions of Asian men in Western media reflected these stereotypes (and often used queercoding to push the idea of Asian men being animalistic seducers - General Henry Chang in Shanghai Express (1932) was written to be bisexual while posing as a threat to the white leads). Some examples off the top of my head include Hishuru Tori from The Cheat (1915) and The Mask of Fu Manchu (1932). Novels frequently depicted Chinese drug lords with borderline supernatural powers in manipulation.

On the other hand I've noticed how fans frequently depict Chang as someone who's submissive, demure and soft, which ignores how ridiculously brave and proactive he is in canon (stealing documents from police officers, charging into a man immediately after getting shot at by a machine gun, I could go on!). It's a common example of Fandom Racism (not accusing anyone specifically, it's just a trend I've noticed.)

When writing Chang I'm kinda reckoning with two different eras. From a contemporary angle I'm writing him as a love interest, which as an Asian guy I rarely see in media today. I also gotta consider his own time and context, how he would navigate being a queer Chinese guy, and how that would affect his relationship with others and himself.

[dontworrysunflower]

Taken | h.s.

a/n: it’s been a minute huh? i’ve been kinda in the dumps lately idk nothing i write seems good but with harry on tour i’ve gotten some inspiration. also i’m posting this in honor of my concert today!! i’m so excited

this was also inspired by @/allisonkuch on tiktok!

warnings: slight suggestiveness, m*n who can’t take a hint, harry being a king even though its the bare minimum 

word count: 1,051

hope you enjoy!! pls reblog it’s really appreciated

masterlist

gif credit: @chasm2018​

You waited beside Harry as his intro started, your hand diligently wrapped around his toned bicep as the lights flickered and shimmered against the crowd and stage. You could feel his foot started to tap profusely, his anxiety hitting him at the last second. You turn to your husband as you gently squeeze his arm, his attention turning to you. “Hey, you’re gonna do great, you always do.” You give him a small smile and kiss the curve of his shoulder, his posture and stance immediately relaxing at your touch. 

“Thank you, lovie. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” You could barely notice the light rose tint on his cheeks under the dim lighting of the arena, his voice muffled from the screaming of the people waiting for him. 

“It’s why you married me.” You teased as his voice recording for the crowd came to a close, his band quickly maneuvering to their respective instruments.

He teasingly frowned at you as he shrugged, “The mind blowing blowjobs were the main factor.”

You slapped his arm, “I hate you.” You scolded.

He quickly kisses the corner of your mouth, slowly departing from you as the stage crew counted down to his entrance  in his in-ears. “Love you too, baby. You’re gonna be in the crowd right?” His nerves become evident in his forest eyes, a gloss forming in front.

You nod, “‘Course, baby.”

He visibly relaxes again and gives you his charming smile, the smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. The same smile he shined at you as you walked down the aisle towards him, as you said your vows and had your first dance as a married couple in front of everyone you love.

“Go kill it, golden boy!” You quickly shouted just before he ran towards the stage, the screams intensifying as they caught sight of him.

+++

Harry was in the middle of singing Woman when you felt someone move next to you. You paid no mind, only enjoying watching your husband sing his heart out. 

“Hi there.” The man who had stood next to you spoke, his lips tugging upwards in a smile. 

Doesn't compare to your husband's smile. 

“Hi.” You say politely, quickly averting your attention to Harry onstage. 

“You here alone?” He asked, clearly not sensing your disinterest. 

You chuckle dryly, “Not exactly.” 

“Wanna leave this boring concert and have some fun?” 

Your brows raised at his insult you were choosing to ignore. “Thanks for the offer, but I’m married.” You show him your large ring you’ve always liked to subtly show off, the reflection of the stage lights bouncing off the diamond and spotting his face. 

“I don’t see him around.” He pressed on, looking around at the young girls dancing and singing, pretending to look for your spouse. He inched closer, but you quickly moved away. 

“Yeah, ‘cause he’s up there.” You smirk as you point up at Harry, his sequined vest shining under the spotlights, his eyes trained on you. You give him a small wave, your teasing smirk for the man now turning into a full smile for your husband. 

Harry continued to strum his guitar, his lip resting on his custom microphone as he lazily sang. His eyes bored into yours and he sent a wink your way, shouts and cries erupting around the arena, surely everyone catching the moment on the large screens on top of the stage and the crowd around you. 

Harry stops singing but continues to strum along to the song, his band doing the background vocals. “Hitting on m’wife over there?” Harry said into the microphone, the cheers around him seeming to get impossibly louder. 

The man beside you gets visibly nervous, slowly retracting away from you like you have the plague. He nervously chuckles up at Harry, mouthing apologies. 

“Don’t apologize to me, apologize to my wife for making her uncomfortable.” Harry gets serious quickly, his fingers halting against the strings of his guitar and wrapping around his mic, coming towards the edge of the stage. His infectious smile is long gone and his eyebrows are furrowed in frustration and anger.

You try to wave him off to continue the show, wanting this situation to be over, but he ignores you, his stare looking down at the man beside you.

“C’mon now, let's see it.”

At this point the song was over, the band behind Harry unsure of what to do. 

The man mumbles an apology towards you, ready to turn and leave in embarrassment. 

“Wait sir, I’m not done with you.”

The man stills, eyes wide in fear. 

“I’m sure she told you she was taken, but even then, if a woman says no, single or not, you leave her alone you hear me?”

The cheers erupt again but Harry completely disregards them.

“Buh-bye now.” Harry folds his fingers in a wave with a fake smile, Harry kneeling down by the edge to watch the man leave.

Once he was out of sight, Harry turned to you, a soft smile displaying on his face. “You okay, baby?” 

Everyone awe’s around you, and for a moment you forget about everyone around you, and all you see is Harry. You see his pinked cheeks and shoulders rise and fall with every labored breath. His dimples crease his cheeks and his flowy hair falls in his face and you wish you had a camera to capture such a beautiful moment. 

You just nod and mouth an ‘okay’ to him, your eyes never leaving his as he moves back to the center of the stage, blowing a kiss towards you. 

You dramatically catch it and tuck it in your pocket, just like he does and you’re sure everyone captured the moment on their phones, seeing how much Harry has rubbed off on you. 

“Anyway..” Harry dragged out with a side smile as he clicked the microphone back on the stand, subtly signaling to the crew to continue on with the show. 

For the rest of the show, Harry kept his eye on you, watching you sing along and dance to his music, small whispers behind you about ‘how cute they are together’ and ‘they’re made for each other’ a distant thought in your mind as you watch your husband prance around.  

•••

idk sorry i hate the ending

taglist:

@samaraaaaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @lover-of-bucky @tom-hollands-wife @acciosiriusblack @aslugforharry @sunkissedchxrry @niallsbaeorwhateva

[kissme-hs]

Rules ♡ h.s.

Hey my loves! How’re you all? Here’s a little something based off the following request I’ve had for too long. Would you like a part 2? Let me know what you think! Please re-blog and like if you enjoyed <3 {photo and gif not mine}

Anonymous asked: could u do a Dom!harry smut where he’s really rough and strict in bed? Plzz I love ur writing ❤️

Pairing: Harry Styles x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Warning: 18+ Smut, Degradation, Unprotected sex, slight mention of BDSM, oral sex fem recieves and gives, use of filthy language etc. {PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH DOM-SUB fics}

                ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Softy, a complete whole soft person Harry was viewed as by the entire world. A guy who loves wearing nail polish and dresses and is nothing but a complete sweetheart. A man, in fact, a man child. In the eyes of million he was a sweet, laid back English lad who wouldn’t dare to hurt a fly.

However, some knew he owned a pair of Gucci handcuffs, the shiny metal made thousands of girls and guys wonder if he actually uses them and the answer is they don’t know. He has never been a man to speak openly about his personal life and just like the rest he let the audience to allow their minds to wander in the oblivion of their thoughts of what he prefers in bed. Or how he is in bed.

All they could do is assume. They assumed he’s rough, maybe soft, or maybe enjoys role play?

No one knows really. Except you.

The only person who has seen his deepest and darkest fantasies. The only person who has ever signed the paper of agreement between you two, you agreeing on being his sub­­, i.e. submissive. Giving him the permission to have his way with you, be it rough, soft or a role play. Whatever it may be, you said yes. The terms and conditions did scare you. The words printed on the piece of paper came off too strong that lied on your lap the night you’re eyes were scanning it, mind finally synching with your wants, deciding it was time you sign the agreement.

*This is a confidential agreement. Submissive is not allow to talk about it to anyone else but the Dom.*

Submissive agrees to obey whatever Dom orders them to do, sexually.

Safe word to be used by submissive is “peach”, if the boundaries are being pushed, the word to be used is “red”.

Honestly, it would scare anybody who reads the further details listed in the contract and what activities Dom would like themselves and the sub to immerge into such as extreme sex toys, being tied up by ropes, fisting and other terms that you didn’t even know the meaning of. But Harry wasn’t doing it just for himself, but for you.

When the day your ex left without a note you found yourself crying in his arms, sobbing and clutching his t-shirt like a broken kid and it hurt him. So he suggested, he was well aware how you wouldn’t be able to go out with anyone after what has happened so why not help you take your mind off him? Nodding to his words, not knowing what was coming you went home and the next morning you saw an envelope on your porch.

And there lied the papers. Submissive-Dom agreement.

“What is this Harry?” You breathed out in fear as your eyes scanned the words and brain figured out what it meant.

“You know it’s not a bad thing, it’ll help you clear your mind”

“Bu-“

“Trust me, plus we don’t have to do what you don’t want to.”

“I don’t know Harry”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do”

“good”

“Do you trust me?” You said biting your lip as you scrunched the bottom of the paper.

“I do”

“Why the agreement then?”

“Its for your own good” and with that the line went dead leaving you in complete confusion. Even though your mind had untangled thoughts and questions clashing together, not thinking twice your fingers grabbed the pen and in a messy rush glided over the rough paper sealing the secret.

And so it began. He invited you over to his place in LA. The house where you’ve been many times but that was when you were friends, you still are but things changed. Quite a lot. His hand held yours as he guided you to the hallway where you never went or even were aware that existed.

Walking a couple more steps you both were standing in front of the huge door. Comparatively bigger than the other he had in his house.

“Stay here” he said as he lets go of your hand and takes a step forward to unlock the door for which he had the key in his necklace. Yes his necklace, a master of disguise.

The second you heard the twisting of the key opening the big door he stepped aside for you to enter the room. Your heart racing with anticipation as you waited for the lights to reveal what he’s had hidden in this room, away from the eyes of the world, away from you.

His fingers flicked the switch and the you saw it. The big red room with a huge bed in the middle, it was surrounded by leashes, leather whips, ropes and the ceiling was nothing but a huge mirror that reflected every move of yours.

Walking down the shiny black floor your hand brushed again the walls that seems so cushiony as you turned your head to look at harry who was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed with a smirk adorning his face.

“Sound proof.” He said as you nodded and continued looking around. Your fingers touched the cold leather whips and slides across the teak wooden drawer. Turning your head one more time to get his approval which he gladly gave, your hand held the handle to pull out the drawer.

There lied several silk blind folds. So rich and expensive. Moving to the next drawer, lied about 50 hand ties, and hand cuffs. Metal, clothed, you name it he has it. And then the last drawer hitched your breath, vibrators, butt plugs, dildos and every other toy you saw in porn.

“I-I never knew you were into this” you whispered as you let your fingers ghost over the silk ties that lied in a perfect fold in the drawer.

“Now you do” you heard his message getting closer to you until his front was pressed against your back. You feel his crotch right up against your ass as he gently, yet with a slight force pushed your front againt the drawer so that you were slightly bent. His hand making it’s from your stomach dragging up all the way up until it found the base of your neck.

The cold metal of his rings felt hot against your skin as he pushed your head back and leaned in closer to your ear. His breath fanning over the love making you shiver.

“Now what’re the rules?”

“I-I call you sir” you breathed out the words as his Kept his hand on your neck giving it a light squeeze telling you to go on, go on with the rules listed in the contract.

“I cannot touch you or myself. I-I respond with words. I-“

“You what?”

“I address myself as your whore”

“That’s correct. You are my filthy little whore. Aren’t you?” He said. His voice deeper than you’ve ever before. And his hand that once held your neck now moved to your side turning you around in a one swift motion. His lips wasting no time to latch onto yours, kissing hungrily as if he’s been dying to kiss you.

And god he has been. Ever since he held your hand walking down the corridor he’s been thinking about having you his way, just like he wants. Kiss those lips and have a taste of thag body is all that has been on his mind since you signed those papers he sent.

Lost in the kiss, deep in your thoughts you were enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours and the rules fading away from your mind. It’s hard to control and stay in the boundaries he’s created when his tongue is inside your mouth dancing along yours, so you let your fingers get lost in those curls as your bite his lower lip.

But to your surprise his reflexes were quick enough to have your hand removed from his hair and twist it and hold it behind your back in a one swift motion.

“One kiss and you’re already breaking the rules. You’re lucky I’m not going to punish you, this is your first and last time.” He groaned before he grabbed you and threw over his shoulder. His hand hving your ass a tight slap before he throws you over the big bed that was situated in the middle on the big room.

Your eyes flickering open to see your own reflection in the mirror that was on the ceiling. Your lips swollen, shirt collected right below your breat revealing your bare skin of the stomach and chest rising with every deep breath you took.

“Now listen to me, you’re gonna look at yourself in the mirror and tell me every single rule listed in the contract. One wrong rule and you lose the chance to cum. Understood?” Harry said as he unbuttoned your jeans pulling it down your legs and stopping right before taking them out when he didn’t hear you reply.

“I asked you something” he raised his eyebrow as one of he held your ankles towards behind your knees over so he could see the cheeks of your ass before giving you another spank.

“Y-yes sir,”

“Yes sir what?”

“Yes sir, understood”

Mumbling a low ‘good girl’ he took off your pants and then sat on you with legs either side your waist to take your top off, his mouth watered when he saw your nipple coming out of your back bra which probably happened when he threw you on the bed.

“Jesus. So full” he muttered before holding your hand over your head and lower his mouth on your nipple, his other hand pushing the cups down so that he could take the whole bud in his mouth and suckle on it making your arch your back. His mouth felt so warm on your cold bud as his tongue flicked the pebble hard nipple around and his bite it slightly before letting it go with a slight pop.

Grabbing a silk tie from the side drawer he tied it around your wrist that he had held in his hand and unhooked the bra—rolling it along the lilc tee that you wore until it reached your eyes and acted as a blindfold.

“Start the rules. Remember, one wrong rule and you lose the chance to cum”

“Yes sir”

“Start” he ordered. And you opened your mouth to let the words out but your breath sucked in when you felt him throwing your legs on his shoulder and his lips coming in contact with your inner thigh.

“I-I don’t sleep with someone else.”

“Cannot”

“Sorry sir, I cannot sleep with someone else”

His lips licked over your drenched knickers that covered your throbbing clit waiting for be touched his tongue. You clenched your thighs together only to be pushed apart by his hands as his nose rubbed over your clothed centre, sniffing, taking the smell of your aroma.

“I cum only when you say” you bite your lip feeling the cotton materiel of your underwear being pushed aside, sensing the cold air of the room mixed with Harry’s warm breath fanning over your sex making your shiver and you shrieked when his four fingers slapped your cunt making the wet filthy sound which only made you drop more.

“Only when I order, looks like you didn’t read it properly you little slut. Lost a chance to feel my tongue on this little pussy of yours”

“I’m sorry sir, please”

“Please what?”

“Please forgive me and eat me out”

“And what are you?”

“I’m your filthy little slut, your whore. Please eat me out sir please” you whimpered as you pleaded harry dying to feel that muscular tongue on your pussy to finally see how it feels like to have his mouth on you which you’ve always dreamt of. Even though you were in a relationship, there always has been a sexual tension between you two which is the reason why you agreed on doing this at the first place.

“That’s right, you’re a whore. A little dirty whore.” And with that you felt his tongue lick a long stride of your lips pushing them open. That one lick was enough to make you squirm, what a shame you couldn’t see his face tucked between your legs as his chain dangles from his neck and gives your a perfect view of his chest from the black shirt he wore, unbuttoned enough for you to see his butterfly tattoo to the slightest.

“Who told you to stop, say the rules doll”

“I see you at least twice a week when you’re in town”

His mouth was now on your clit, sucking it like a leech. His lips left the bundle of nerve with a pop as his hand came in to rub it harshly, before his index finger collected your juices that dripped down your hole and you heard him licked it clean and without any word you feel your opening being stretched to the fullest when he inserted two fingers.

His mouth finding its way back to your clit, licking and sucking your pussy without any mercy. Your hips bucked up in his mouth which he roughly pinned down.

“If I see you doing that once more I swear to god you’ll forget how to walk you slut” he said through gritted teeth as if you interrupted his meal. He shook his head keeping his lips on your clit to give those toe curling vibrations with his fingers twisting inside you.

He felt your soft walls clenching as he let go of your swollen clit to take his fingers out and slide his tongue inside you feeling the warmth against his tongue.

He spread your legs open as he pushed his tongue in and out, tongue-fucking you savouring every drop you released.

“I only wear red and black lingerie when I see you”

His fingers came back in position as his mouth placed itself back on your clit not leaving the swollen bug alone. Your back now covered in sweat and your nipple perched up, mouth dry and pussy waiting to release.

“Wrong. You only wear red around me.”

And with that he flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach and your ass was up in the air. Withing another second you felt a tight spank against your ass cheek making you hiss in pain.

“That’s what you get for being a dumb whore”

“Sorry sir”

Followed by another spank he pushed you back to him so that he could press his bulge to your arse.

“Grind. Grind like the little road slut you are” he gripped your ass so firmly that you could feel his metal rings digging in your skin as he held them strong in front of his crotch.

As you tried to held yourself up on your elbow he pressed your head down on the bed so that your cheek was squished against the soft cushion.

“Grind i said”

Obliging to his command your moved your ass up his all rock hard cock that you felt tight against your butt cheeks making you moan. Moving your ass in rounds and different directions you felt him buck further into your hips wanting for a release as his hands came in to grip your hair that fell down your shoulder.

Wrapping the long locks around his hand in a fist his he pushed your head back to that your tee which was covering your eyes now came down hanging around your neck which was strained because of his grip on your hair.

“I’m gonna fuck the shut outta you, gonna destroy that little cunt of yours and make you scream until you the only name you remember is mine and forget that asshole who made you cry” and that’s how your first night ended as a submissive after being raw dogged to the fullest with the rough hand prints laying on your ass cheeks.

 But that was just the beginning, so when one day you found yourself on your knees in the bathroom of a posh restaurant that Harry insisted to take you to you weren’t surprised.

You mouth dripping saliva as he held your face in one hand keeping it upwards so he will have a full view of your mouth which was sucking on his thick sick. Lips wrapped around his shaft you gagged when he bucked his hips further in your mouth hitting the back of your throat making it impossible for you to take him any deeper.

“Jesus fucking christ you little cunt” he moaned grabbing your mouth so he could move your head to his liking. Following his movements, you bobbed your head hold the base of his cock, twisting your hand around his with the faint wrist while you suckled with hollow cheeks.

It all started when he saw you arrive at the restaurant. Wearing a tight black dress that hugged your curves and gave all men a delicious view of your plunging breasts making the jaws drop.

“Meet me in the bathroom, right now”

“But wh-“

“Do as told”

And when you did you felt him grab you by your hair and push you against the counter so that your stomach was against the cold marble top while your ass was facing him which he wasted no second uncovering, lifting the almost sheer clothing and pushing it over your waist to reveal your unclothed bottom.

“fucking whore”

Your body flinched with pleasure disguised In pain as he raised his hand and slapped it across your cheeks looking at you straight through the mirror. His hand gripping your hair.

“Look at me” he ordered and you flickered your eyes open to see his dilated pupil and heavy breathing chest. His ring cladded slender fingers didn’t stop spanking shaking your whole body up until he pulled you back and pushed you down on your knees and stepped in front of you with his dick out and slapped it across your face.

“Open” he said holding his hard dick from the base and you did as told. Soon you felt it heavy on the tongue as he patted it on your tongue before pulling away, grabbing your cheeks and pulling your face upwards to him. His fingers wasted no time squishing your cheeks so that your mouth was open slightly giving him the perfect angel so spit in your mouth making you gasp.

“Swallow” and once again you do as told before grabbing his dick and kitten licking his tip, teasing him. But he wasn’t having it so grabbing the back of your head he pushed your head forward until his shaft was hitting the back of you had making your gag, your eyes picking up instant tears and he would’ve stopped right away if they were tears of pain, but they weren’t.

“this is what you get for breaking the rule of not wearing revealing clothes until I ask you to. Get treated like a slut, a fucking filthy whore in the public sucking my dick” he groaned as you played with his ball bobbing your hand.

His grip on your hair tightened before you felt his hot cum gushing down your throat which your swallowed without his order and let go of his cock with a ‘pop’.

Pulling your face up to him he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip collecting the escaping cum and pushing it in your mouth which you happily took sucking on his thumb.

“Be a good girl, and follow the rules”

[binniesthighs]

hello stranger | reader x changbin |

this drabble was inspired by binnie’s outfit from the hello stranger vid and oh also! we are finally getting changbin’s thighs on this acct dedicated to them teehee

Part 1

Pairing: self insert, female reader x seo changbin, past reader x han jisung  

Genre: smut n’ a lil fluff 

Tags: (for this part) softdom!changbin, sub!reader, undergroundrapper!changbin, chan, felix and jisung side characters, hook-up, scraping knees & mentions of blood, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), gagging, protected sex, praise kink, slight breeding kink, orgasm denial and edging (f receiving), begging, fingering (f receiving), squirting, use of handcuffs, cockwarming at the end

Word count: 4.9k 

Chapters

PART 1 | PART 2 

gif creds to @iconicspearb​ ♡

2am, and you felt euphoric. Like a fucking cloud. Even though it was typical, there really were no other words that could describe it. Music was blasting on several speaks mounted to the walls and the ceiling. The bass was booming at such a low frequency you felt it reverberating in your chest--or maybe that was your heart. 

You had been shoved up against sweaty bodies for nearly four hours now, and your friends Chan and Felix hadn’t told you if they planned on leaving at any time soon. Not like you minded. Nothing felt better than a feeling like this. In a place like this, you could forget the rest of the world for a little bit; who you were and what you needed to do. The buzz in the room was infectious. Everyone in the room threw their bodies together, clashing in one big, beautiful mess. 

After four hours, you still wouldn’t get tired of it. Next to you, Chan and Felix were bouncing up and down with you, thrashing their heads to the rapid fire syllables spat by the rappers. Your ears would ring during every tiny moment of silence.  

“How much longer do you wanna stay for?!” Your scratched voice called to your friends. 

“SpearB hasn’t come on yet!! We have to see him!” 

“SpearB?!” 

The widest grin attacked Chan’s face, flashing his dimples. “Yeah! I heard that he’s insane!” 

Felix threw his arm over your shoulder to dance with him and the two of you fell into a rhythm, shouting over the lyrics of the rapper on stage: you had seen him dozens of times, Chan and him were even on a first name basis. 

You new his name too, but that was because you had plenty experience screaming it out for him...both at concerts and in private. Jisung was his name. He was the one that turned you on to fuck buddies. God, he was way too cocky for you to ever to consider anything else. 

He dished out out of his signature winks while he buried his teeth into his lip. 

You wondered if you would be going home with him again tonight. Not like you minded. The way that he would suck on your clit was unreal. 

“--THANK YOU FOR COMING OUT!” Jisung bellowed into the mic, leaping off some structure and launching himself into the air. 

You and your two friends cheered for him and clapped for him until your hands turned red. He was cocky...but he was sure as hell talented. 

“SpearB is coming next!!!” Felix shook your shoulders in his excitement. 

A couple stage hands changed around the stage a little bit by moving around a couple speakers, adding a smoke machine, setting out a new computer at the little table in center stage. 

“He-he’s gonna LIVE MIX ON THE STAGE” Chan’s eyes widened.

“He’s gonna what!?” There was almost nothing left of your voice. 

“JUST WAIT AND SEE.” 

The lights dimmed and Felix and Chan clung to your arms, nearly squeezing the life out of them.

If he was this of a big deal to them, he must be something special. 

He stepped out a black shadow, swirls of smoke at his feet. He hadn’t even said anything yet, but his aura was massive. The lights rose slightly so you could see his face better: smoky brown eyes, light brown hair that was nearly silver. He wore a thick silver chain around his neck, contrasting with the rest of his darkly colored clothes. Most of all, your eyes were drawn to his thighs, perfectly shaped and curved under his pants, toned and thick. On his fingers he wore bands of sliver rings. 

As soon as his fingers touched the keyboard, Chan and Felix lost their minds clawing at your arms. You had never seen the two of them so giddy. 

He didn’t even look at the audience at first, like they weren’t even there. With the tap of his fingers he started making a beat; it was piercing and catchy with snares and 808′s vibrating the room. He had a small keyboard next to him that he used, the silver glimmer from his rings reflected off the stage lights--they were nearly blinding. 

The crowd started moving to his beat which he sped up gradually creating a type of tension that you could only really describe like the mere seconds before a climax. 

He rose the mic to his mouth after licking his lips tantalizingly slow. He finally let himself look at the crowd. With the mic to his mouth, his eyes met yours, striking you with electricity. Even though his backing music was ridiculously fast, he sauntered to the front of the stage, not breaking with your gaze. This time you definitely knew it was your heart that was throbbing in your chest—not the music.

Chan and Felix were clawing onto you even harder, but you couldn’t feel a thing. 

He was fucking mesmerizing. 

He hadn’t even said a word. 

He crouched down to be eye level with you with his gaze still deathly fierce. Every single inch of him oozed with confidence and unbridled mystery. 

Almost like he was teasing you, he shot up and away, turning into his mic, his gruff voice growling over the start of his lyrics. 

He never looked at you again for the rest of the performance. You found yourself aching for his eyes on your body again, but he never gave it to you. 

No one had ever made you as soaked as he made you. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

“Aren’t you glad that we stayed, Y/n?” Chan nudged you hard once the three of you had left the club. 

The chill of the winter stung at the back of your sweaty neck wonderfully. It felt amazing compared to how stuffy it had been in there for the past several hours. 

“--how he looked at you?? Y/n, that was...” Felix laughed out a little in disbelief. 

You dig your hands further into your coat pockets. Just above you, tiny flakes of snow started to fall. You huffed out, your breath was wispy floating in the air. You were still getting over it all. How could he have looked at you like that and then pretended that you didn’t even exist? What kind of sick shit was that? 

Chan ran in front of you to skid on a patch of ice with child-like giggles. 

“You okay?” Felix asked, linking his arm through yours. He was always the best at reading you. 

“--yeah, it was just strange. There was something about him that...” 

“--I mean, he’s really hot. I’ll give him that.” 

You chuckled a little. “You think so too?” 

“I’d be blind if I didn’t think so.” 

“I don’t even know him...but why did he look at me like that...like he did?” 

“I dunno.” Felix shrugged. “We should catch up with Chan before he actually slips.” 

“Heh, you’re probably right.” 

“You just gonna head back home? It’s really late.” 

“Yeah, I’m super tired after all of that.” 

“Want one of us to walk you home?” 

You pondered for a minute, eyes cast up a little to the sky. The night had turned perfectly quiet during the early hours of the morning. Maybe a walk by yourself could do you some good. 

“I’m fine. Thanks for offering though.” 

“Text us when you get back?” Your friend gave your arm a little squeeze with a little worry dancing across his freckled cheeks. 

“Of course.” 

“Okay...don’t forget!” 

“I won’t!” You waved your friends away just as you reached the intersection separating your path from theirs. 

You sucked in a deep inhale, letting the cold air burn a little in your lungs. The sensation snapped you out of your yawn perfectly. It was just a few more blocks away and you knew the way well. Two rights, one left, two straight ahead. 

A blur started to cover your eyes and one more yawn escaped your lips. 

Or was it one right and two lefts? 

The street lights blurred into green and white lines. 

I should be there shouldn’t I? 

Behind you the horn honked, loud and shrill. 

You thought to yourself, what is someone doing honking so loud at night? 

“Watch out!!” A hand grabbed at your arm and jerked you back hard. 

You were definitely awake when your body crashed to the cement sidewalk knees first. A burning pain seethed at the skin of your knees. 

“Fuck! Sorry, I didn’t mean to pull that hard--” 

At first you saw your scraped knees, then you saw him...finally looking at you again. 

“What the hell are you doing walking into the middle of the street, didn’t you see the light?” 

“Are you fucking stalking me?” Was the first thing your brilliant brain could think to ask. 

He scoffed. “You’re welcome for saving your life? You were stumbling around... are you okay? Did you take something?” 

Before you knew it you were surrounded by him and his friends: inspecting you for any signs. 

“No, I am not on anything.” You hissed. “I just...I think that I’m tired an--wait...where are we?” 

“That tired huh?” He helped you to your feet, making you wince. “Shit, you’re bleeding.” His hand lingered on yours. 

“Oh. Yeah, it’s fine. Honestly it’s my own fault.” Your tone dropped. “I should have had one of them walk me home.” 

“--You need someone to walk you home?” 

“No, I got it, thanks. I’m just over that way.” You took two shaky steps forward, your knees immediately buckling in pain. 

“No-listen, my place is over there, I can help you get cleaned up--you’re not gonna find any taxis back to your place at this time of night.” 

“Are you luring me right now?” 

“What?! No!” 

You chuckled a little. It was a bit funny how different he was off stage compared to on. You almost forgot how embarrassingly soaked he had made you before. 

“Trust me.” He nodded to his friends and they split, leaving the two of you alone under the flurrying snow. “You coming?” 

You tentatively took his hand. Funny. This was kind of how it started with Jisung too. All of them were the fucking same. You pitied yourself for thinking that he would be any different. 

╚ ——————————————— ╝

Changbin, as he introduced himself, lived in a modest apartment with three roommates in a place with creaky floorboards and walls of painted over brick. He swore up and down that there was heating in there, but it didn’t feel like it. He kept very few things in his room save for some things that looked like synthesizers and a TV. The two of you had to tip-toe to his room. He warned you that nothing could be kept secret in that apartment. 

“Here, you should clean it first to get anything out of it. Then put this on it, you don’t wanna get infected or anything.” 

“oh. Thank you--” You reached out, but instead he knelt at the edge of the bed at your knees. He tore the whole in your tights even wider to start dabbing at your scratches. 

“Hey! What the--” 

“--They’re already torn. What’s the use in them now?” 

He got to work, being as careful as he could tending to you. His hands gently held your leg still. You watched as he did everything. Being this close again, you remembered. Those little silvery and wavy trellises of his hair...he really was gorgeous. 

Changbin’s hand smoothed down your calf once he was done, tickling you slightly. 

“All done. Better?” 

“Yeah...thank you.” You shied away. After seeing this other side of him you didn’t quite know what to think. 

“I’d love for you to stay but, seeing as you thought that I was luring you before--” 

“--Have I met you before?” 

“Me?” Changbin unclipped his earrings. “I don’t think so. But...that’s interesting. I was thinking the same thing earlier. There’s something about you that I recognize.” 

“--That’s why you looked at me like that?” 

“I looked at you like that, because I thought that you looked sexy.” 

You felt a heat rise in your cheeks. There was something especially hard to ignore about how gentle he had been with you before and how his eyes seemed to devour you now recalling the memory. It was...different. Maybe he wasn’t like all the rest of them. 

“I guess you must not think I still am if you’re trying to send me home.” You edged him on. It was undeniable how good it felt to have him give you his undivided attention. 

“I’m sending you home because it’s the respectful thing to do.” 

“That’s honorable.” 

“You rather me do something else?” 

“You rather me do something else?” 

“You want me to continue being respectful?” 

“Do you want to be?” 

Changbin paced the length of his room, cradling his neck up. “Stop playing fucking games and tell me what it is you want.” 

You thought that him performing was enough to send you over. Seeing him mad was something entirely different. You knew exactly what you wanted; what your body wanted.  

You narrowed your eyes. “Obviously. I want you.” 

You saw it in his eyes first. It was like the first spark of a flame right before he was set ablaze. All you had to do was say it. 

He tore his jacket off and launched himself on top of you, crashing his lips needily into yours. His mouth was addictive, perfectly soft, but running over yours roughly over and over. He kissed you, starving, breathing exhales into your mouth. He wasted no time meeting his tongue with yours, twisting around it slowly, forcing you to slow your pace. He gave you everything at once, then slowly started taking it away again. Changbin sucked on your bottom lip slightly, then pulled. He returned, kissing you again agonizingly slow. He let his hands cascade down your sides, sliding them up your shirt. Further down, he wedged his thigh between your legs, pressing in and issuing a little whimper from you. 

“I like to take things slowly...I hope you don’t mind.” He kissed down your jaw to your neck, taking care of the skin he craved here. He pressed harder with his leg. 

You cried out before grinding your hips into his thigh hopelessly seeking some kind of pleasure. When you did so, the friction of your clit was just enough. 

“So fucking needy.” His warm breath spilled into your ear. “You just can’t wait to have me, can you? Can’t wait to have me filling you up, fucking you deep inside, stretching you out...just like you want to?” He painted more kisses into your neck. “You’re not getting it yet. Not until I say so.” 

“Please...” You felt pathetic grinding on him so hard, but you couldn’t stop, not when it felt so good. 

“Awww.” He tutted. “Feels good doesn’t it?” 

“Mmmm...” You dug your fingers into his arms to pull yourself even closer to him.

He scoffed out a laugh and moved himself off of you. “Quit doing my job for me.” He smirked, then reached down to your legs where he coursed his hands up your inner thighs right where you were most delicate. His fingers reached your throbbing and drenched pussy properly wet through your panties from grinding on him. He ghosted over your clit, letting his fingers fall up and down just slightly, never giving you the satisfaction. Your whole body jerked just for him. Wordlessly, he tore a hole again with one continuous rip. 

“fuck. You’re so wet for me.” He wondered at your body. There he was, looking at you as he had done before. His thumb permitted you a couple soft circles to your clit as you helplessly grinded into his hand. His hands looked beautiful teasing your pussy with his silver rings.

“I’ve got something special I wanna use on you.” Changbin rubbed down harder with one hand and drew a pair of shiny metal handcuffs from his beside with the other. “Pretty right?” He twisted them around.

Seeing them instantly made your whole core cry out in desire for him even more. 

“Can I?”

You nodded quickly and even provided for him your wrists. As expected they bit with a cold, but how they made you feel...so helpless and usable was euphoric. Changbin rose your arms above your head, then removed the remains of your tights, skirt and underwear. By contrast, he was still completely clothed, but you could see his dick, hard and swelling with girth, pressing up against his pants. 

His hands explored all over your legs while you squirmed. The touch of his skin on yours was hypnotic. You had already felt his fingers, so you figured he wouldn’t let you feel them again soon. He drew little scribbles into your skin, sometimes pressing hard, grabbing at you in greedy handfuls. 

“You’re so gorgeous Y/n, so pretty for me, so pretty tied up and squirming. You’re such a good girl...I’m gonna make you cum harder than you can even imagine.”

Your little whimpers came out along with a string of explicatives while he teased at you relentlessly, still not going to touch your clit again. Your hands trashed together a little in the cuffs, the cold digging into you. You couldn’t do anything about it. Your hips writhed when his fingers traced up to your belly, then up to your nipples to pinch at them until they were painfully hard. Your whole body craved him so badly everywhere. 

“fuck--please stop, please--” you panted out, “touch me.” 

Back down again went his hands, and you watched as he devilishly smiled at his work. “I said, not until I say so.” Suddenly his fingers slid right into your pussy with ease. He had tricked you. You nearly screamed at the feeling if he had not slapped his hand over your mouth. “be fucking quiet.”

Changbin pumped in and out at his favored slow pace, curling his fingers up perfectly to rub at your g-spot. Your hands were still useless, so you bit down hard on your lip to keep your moans from escaping. 

“You like it this way don’t you? You’re taking my fingers so good, beautiful. Keep being a good girl and I’ll let you cum okay?”

“Mmm-yes, please.” Your words were breathy.

He moved on to fucking you with his fingers relentlessly. He would switch between pumping you full to then pulling out and robbing you of all feeling. As soon as he could sense your walls tightening, he would pull out, eyes greedily watching as you would fall apart from his edging. 

Your body betrayed you while you were being cruelly teased and your mind went blank as he brought you back and fourth each time. A tension deep down inside you built every time he would curl his fingers--any moment you knew that you could explode if he could only just let you. You even considered letting your hands fall to rub your needy clit yourself, but you had more than enough of punishing. 

“You’re doing so well.” Changbin soothed you at last. “Do you wanna cum for me?” 

“Yes.” You sighed out with utter exhaustion. 

“Alright. You deserve it.” He kissed into the skin right under your bellybutton where your shirt had tucked up a little. 

Finally he rammed his thumb against your clit to give it simulation as he continued fucking into you with his fingers, giving careful attention to your sensitive bud as he wiggled his fingers with speed. The metal on his fingers grazed you too inside, and you felt yourself tightening around him once again. That same tension gathered low and it was so intense and unfamiliar that it scared you. Your back arched as you felt it getting closer..closer...

You cried out, “Changbin, I--” 

“Just let it all go, babygirl.” He spread out your legs farther. 

You came with such ferocity that you felt lightheaded: you squirted hard with your release. It took every ounce of your will not to make a sound, only letting shallow gasps escape. Changbin removed his fingers as you came, rubbing your clit as you did, giving it a couple slaps where it was swollen. Tears fell down the sides of your face as your whole body shook with each release and your hips buckled together. 

Changbin laughed out in awe at the shaking mess in front of him. You felt your whole body flush with heat, and you couldn’t bear to look at him--you had never done anything like that before in your whole life. In fact you didn’t really know what it was. You hid your flustered face under your arms. 

“Fuck, that was so fucking hot.” You heard him chuckle. “Why are you hiding? Hey, come back--” 

He jingled with the keys and let your wrists free, which were also throbbing with a bit of pain. He kissed both of them one after the other. 

“Are you okay?” 

You let yourself look at him and you noticed that his shirt was splattered wet from droplets of your liquids. 

“Fuck--I’m sorry, I don’t know what that was--” 

He laughed softly then crawled over you again. His hands ran up and down your body still in aftershocks. “You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed his lips into yours. “I’m guessing that was your first time squirting, huh?” 

“I-I think so.” 

“Did it feel good?” 

“It felt...so good.” 

“I fulfilled my promise then didn’t I?” He caressed the sides of your face to give you even more careful kisses; they weren’t needy anymore, but this time more caring and passionate. Hell, he didn’t even know you but he kissed you like he loved you. 

“You want me to do you now?” 

“Not yet, you’re still coming down, I don’t wanna ruin this for you.” 

“ ‘Kay.” This time you were the one to lean in to keep kissing him. His lips curled into a smile against yours. 

Changbin unbuttoned your cropped shirt, then took off his all of his clothes after. He laid down next to you, both of you completely bare and the warmth of his mouth found yours once again. Maybe it was just because you had just cum because of him, but the sense of closeness that you felt to him made you feel impossibly safe. You could have kissed him like this forever. 

“You’re perfect.” He whispered onto your lips between kisses. 

You slung one of your legs over his hips and his member twitched on your stomach. You had come down enough. 

“My turn now?” 

“I wouldn’t object to that.” He grinned. 

The bed sheets crinkled a little as you descended farther down the bed and he sat his back against the wall. You got your first proper chance to look at his full length: veiny and perfectly thick, dripping just a little with pre-cum. You could only imagine what it would feel like inside you. Changbin’s eyes followed as you wrapped your hand around him and teased the tip with your pointer finger. You licked fat strokes up and down the sides, feeling him hardening even more. The saliva gathered in your mouth seeing the head grow redder and redder. His chest shook with a broken sigh. You gave him one teasing squeeze that made him wince beautifully. 

“Keep going.” He commanded, raking his fingers through your hair and gripping there. 

“I don't need you to tell me that.” You hushed and flicked the tip of your tongue over his tip. 

After he got to do all of his teasing, how come you didn’t get to do some too? 

“Don’t make me make you.” He growled. 

“Ooo scary.” 

Your hand began to pump him and he relaxed, exhaling out with the trailing of his voice hiding his soft moans. Your free hand dug into the skin of his thigh, letting the sharp of your nails pepper little pink crescents. They were so perfect, you rewarded them with kisses and little bites while your hand kept pumping. Changbin’s fingers dug into your scalp needily. 

He hissed out, “Give me your mouth.” 

A surge of confidence swelled within you knowing he was completely in your control. “You aren’t even going to say please?” 

“I don’t say please.” 

“Then maybe I won’t suck you off then?” 

A flash of betrayal ran across his smoky eyes. “What?!” 

“Fine. I won’t make you say it.” You smirked and took him in generously, deeply, pushing down your tongue and taking him down your throat. You were just a little too ambitious: his length made you gag, but you swallowed down the reflex. Changbin’s head fell back and hit the wall. 

“fuck yes.” The words escaped his tongue. 

You grabbed at him and squeezed, hard, twisting him and flicking your wrist with each turn. He was delightfully hard in your mouth, and with each step closer he gasped out faster and faster. Your head bopped in your rhythm, still taking him in deeper with each move, chasing gags away just as fast as you got a new one. You would stop for a few seconds to let him quiver in your hand and he would groan out once your warmth disappeared. 

“Not-not yet,” He gasped out and squirmed, then pushed you lightly off of him. He scrambled over to the beside again, throwing the drawer open and finding a condom which he tore open with his teeth, then impatiently rolled it over his pink length. He threw his body off the bed, grabbing at your hips to align you with the edge of the bed and situating himself between your legs. He was just as impatient when he took some lube into his hand to rub over his dick curled against his stomach. Changbin coaxed his dick into your opening, leaning down over your body with forearms resting on both sides of your head. Once the two of you were connected, you both let out sighs with the feeling consuming you. He filled you up so wholly, so deeply, it even hurt just a little bit, kind of like the first time. 

“Baby you’re so tight.” He thrust in slow at first, exactly how he liked it. It felt fucking amazing when he stretched you out grinding his hips even in little to let your clit feel the sensation as well. He attached his lips with yours to lend them his warmth. Your arms latched around his neck and your legs around his waist as you pulled him in even closer. The heat from his sweating chest emanated on you. He started to pick up his pace, giving your g-spot attention again as he angled himself above you. 

The two of you sucked in each other’s air as it lasted between your lips for only a few seconds. You moaned directly into his mouth hoping that it was enough to muffle the sound and he returned back with his own arousal spilling all over you and sticking on your tongue. 

Changbin pulled away to shove your legs together and press against his torso, making you even tighter. He shut his eyes upon feeling it, focusing on nothing else but his thrusts. His forehead gathered with little beads of sweat and one fell down his brow. 

His name flew off of your mouth naturally as he fucked into you, and your second orgasm pooled. His toned arms flexed from where he grabbed onto the bed and he choked out little airy gasps before announcing that he was about to cum. 

“Cum inside me baby, fill me up...I’m all yours.” 

Upon hearing your words, he set himself loose, pounding into you with astonishing speed doubling over you as he came, leaving himself inside to throb against your walls. There was something so primal inside of you that craved to feel his cum inside of you knowing that he wanted you, that he desired you and that you could unscrew him until he was vulnerable like this, all for you. 

“Can we...stay like this for a little while?” 

He chuckled a bit, and swept a few strands of your hair off of your face. 

“You like how it feels like this then?” 

“...yes.” 

“Okay beautiful. Anything that you like, can I come back up first? Kinda hard to do it like this.” 

You nodded and let himself get situated sitting on the bed, resting himself against the wall once more. Your bodies shivered as you sat back down on his softening dick, but it was the feeling of being connected to him that you craved. He traced his fingers up and down your back, his eyes full of admiration. 

“You’re perfect.” He echoed. 

“You hardly even know me.” Your fingers twirled his curly hair. 

“You’re perfect.” 

“Thank you...and...thank you for making me feel so good.” 

“My pleasure,” He laughed out the words, “And yours too I guess.” 

“Very funny.” 

There he was, looking at you again like that. Like he loved you. He didn’t even know you. He didn’t know that things you had done; who you were. 

“I’d like to get to know you though. If you’ll let me.” 

╚ ——————————————— ╝ 

AHHHH so writing this I kinda fell in love with the potential for this plot, esp with the stuff with the readers history with Jisung???? SHould I make this a series???? Softdom!bin romancing us?? Let me knowwwww

[professorsnape394]

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Eighteen: Faith 

A/N: This is the Eighteenth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-18 can also be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below or send me a message if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 4199

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

The rapping of knuckles against the old oak door echoed throughout the potions master's office. Breaking through the thick silence that had engulfed the room, a wave of anxiety washed over Severus Snape.

"Can I not go one day without you bothering me, Miss Dumbledore." Snape complained, trying to hide slight crack of nervousness in his voice.

"Sadly, Severus, it is not your beloved Miss Dumbledore." A thick Bulgarian accent announced.

Admittedly disappointed by the unveiling of his visitor, Severus lowered himself back down into his chair, not willing to make an effort for anyone but his apprentice.

"Why are you here, Igor. You should have learned your lesson by now to leave me alone." He said, rubbing his eyes back into focus and running a hand through his hair lazily.

"I have something you'll want to hear." Karkaroff divulged mysteriously, plopping himself down on the chair across from the professor.

"I do not imagine anything you have to say is of any interest to me."

"Then lucky for you Snape, I won't be the one talking."

Unbothered by the man's deliberate awkwardness, Severus allowed him to ramble on, too exhausted to argue with him.

With a flick of his wand and a small puff off smoke, the space between the two men began to whirl and spin, slowly forming a picture-like image in the air, the scene beginning to unfold. Revealing a staff room full of unusually dressed professors, the focus turned to a small cluster of teachers gathered in the centre of the room. Recognising both Igor Karkaroff and Aria Dumbledore sitting side by side on the old couch, Snape grew suspicious of the man's intentions.

"Why are you showing me this?" Severus asked, unsure of whether he wanted to see what was about to happen.

"Just listen." The Durmstrang headmaster hissed.

~

"How do I feel about Snape?" Aria wondered, the scene enclosing in on her.

"He's... curious. He has the capacity for love and friendship just like the rest of us, yet he chooses to be mean-spirited."

~

"I don't want to hear this." Snape declared, turning his eyes away from the woman.

"You must." Igor demanded.

~

"...he can be mean and arrogant and cruel. And despite it all I try my best to show him kindness, but where does that get me? He calls me out in front of practically the whole school? That was so fucking humiliating, and I'm just supposed to forgive him? I think it's safe to say I'd live a happy life if I were to never see that man again."

~

Severus felt his heart drop in his chest, unable to process what he had just heard. Slowly a sharp ringing in his ears grew louder and louder, deafening him to the scene before him, as well as the reality in which he existed. He refused to believe the woman he cared so much about, the woman who had demanded to be his friend, had lied about everything. Did she truly hate him beneath her annoyingly cheerful demeanour, was it all a façade?

He wanted to insist Karkaroff had fabricated the whole thing, but he knew exactly what spell he had cast, there was no way he could have faked it.

A deep rage grew within the man, an anger he had not felt in a number of decades. Severus Snape prided himself on having a monotone disposition, void of all emotion. But that familiar feeling of being betrayed by someone he trusted brought forward a plethora of pent up emotions, namely anger and frustration.

A wide, devilish grin spread across Karkaroff's face, satisfied by his colleague's reaction.

"You see now what she is truly like, Severus. You see now that she was playing you all along. That girl pretends to be your friend to keep her job, not because she likes you." Igor laughed maliciously. "You and I both know what is coming, and when it does, Dumbledore is prepared to replace you. Even he knows where your true loyalties lie. Do not be fooled into thinking the Dumbledore's are your friends. They use you for their own advantage, but the second you are no longer useful, or you become a threat to them, you'll be taken down by any means necessary."

"You're lying." Snape tried to convince himself, refusing to meet the professors gaze. "You're scared of what he will do to you if he returns. You need an alliance with someone on the inside."

"He has returned, you must feel it just as I do." The ex-deatheater practically screamed.

"I will not be manipulated by you Igor. This changes nothing, the girl was nothing but a distraction."

"We both know that isn't true." He sniggered, attempting once last time to convince Snape. "Do you know what she said to me, the last time I was in this office? She told me she could never be with a man like you, she told me your actions were unforgivable. I can prove that as well if you don't believe me."

"Get out, Igor. Just leave." Severus exhaled, starting to pace slowly behind his desk. He knew Karkaroff was trying to manipulate him, he was not stupid enough to fall for that. But proof does not lie, and the facts remain. Everything he was saying true, there was no denying it.

With a short bow, Igor danced out of the room. Completely satisfied with the havoc he'd reeked. He'd successfully toyed with what little emotions the great dungeon bat had left. And who's to say what can happen when Severus Snape's feelings get hurt?

*

Hoot. Hoot.

The bird bleated as it swooped through the open window.

"Another letter for the pile?" Aria sighed to herself. "Will he ever stop?"

Whoo.

It purred in response.

The witch couldn't help but laugh at the coincidence.

"You know exactly who." She giggled, plucking the envelope from the creatures beak, and throwing it on the ever growing pile.

"I just wish he would give me some time to think, you know?" She asked turning back to the barn owl, only to witness it taking off, disappearing into the distance.

Look at me. I'm talking to a bird. She thought with a roll of her eyes. I need to get some sleep.

Catching a glimpse of herself reflection of the window, Aria decided she needed to freshen herself up with a little pamper time, finishing the day off with a very long and well deserved nap.

Dumping almost a whole bottle of bubble bath into the tub, topping with springs of lavender and dried chamomile, Aria plunged herself deep into the warm water.

Relaxing for approximately 2.5 seconds, the woman flew out of the bath, her naked body sopping with bubbles, dripping puddles of water as she explored her quarters impatiently.

"Why can I never find any of my books when I need them most!" She groaned, shivering from the sudden change in temperature as goose bumps formed all over her arms and legs.

Letting out a single yelp of excitement, Aria grabbed the first book she laid eyes on and dived back into her tub.

"Pride and Prejudice, of course." She mumbled, thinking back to that night Severus visited her quarters.

As she read and her mind wandered, Aria found herself making unconscious comparisons between the infamous, brooding Mr. Darcy, and her stern, yet lovable Potions mentor, Severus Snape. They were both mildly rude and arrogant, determined to never show their true emotions, but deep down it was quite possible that they loved more fiercely than anyone ever could.

Elizabeth Bennet enchanted Darcy mind, body and soul. If only there were someone brave enough to do the same to Professor Snape. Aria thought, as she allowed herself to drift off to sleep in the water.

Hours later a thunderously loud 'Bang' frightened Aria awake.

Although not positively sure of how much later it was, she could be certain a decent sleep was had given the icy temperature of the water.

Aria allowed herself a moment to come to, bracing herself against the cold, her was body aching from the ceramic constraints of the tub.

A series of bangs came this time, chapping very loudly on her chamber door. Who ever it was was clearly extremely impatient, forcing her to hurry herself up.

Wrapping herself in nothing but a white cotton towel, the witch slid her way through her rooms to the door. Clearly she wasn't even awake enough to remember where she was, and that answering her door half naked wasn't exactly professional.

Bang. Bang. BANG.

The knocks reverberated through her body, sending shivers down her spine.

Gingerly she opened the door, revealing a more than pissed off Severus Snape.

"Severus." She yawned. "What's wrong?"

"Don't act dumb with me, girl. I am not falling for this act any longer." He snapped.

"What act, Severus? Why are you here?"

"Just tell me why?" He seethed. "Why did go to so much trouble trying to convince me to be your friend, only to confess to Karkaroff, as well as the rest of the Hogwarts staff, your true feelings. Why couldn't you just leave me alone."

"Severus listen, I think we need to talk about this in private. Please come in."

"So you can try and seduce me again? I don't think so. Jesus, look at the state of you, are you really that desperate to entice me? What's next, showing up to dinner completely naked? You really are just as I thought." The potions master growled, his pitch back eyes looking her up and down.

"Severus stop" Aria begged. "I thought we had moved past all this."

"So did I. But considering you have deemed me as "unforgivable" then there doesn't appear to be much point in trying to redeem myself, does there?"

"But you're only going to make everything worse. Let me explain myself, please."

"There is nothing to explain, I shall be putting in a formal request for the headmaster to employ a separate tutor for your apprenticeship in the morning, so you never have to see me again."

The professor stormed off, just as quickly as he had arrived, achieving exactly what he had come to do; humiliate Aria Dumbledore.

Desperate to apologise for her cruel words, Aria made to follow Severus to his classroom.

Forgetting her attire, or rather lack of, she was soon reminded of it when a crowd of Slytherin students erupted in a fit laughter with its fair share of cat-calls and whistles. Clearly they had emerged from their common room to investigate the noise, but stayed for the show of the two arguing potions professors.

"Nice legs, Miss." One of the older boys called, sending a wink in her direction.

Shit. She mumbled under her breath, rushing back to her quarters to change.

Hair still dripping wet, Aria shoved it into a bun on top of her head and pulled on some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, before hunting down the potions master.

"Severus, open the door." She called, upon initially finding it to be locked.

He didn't even bother to reply.

Fine. She thought. I'll do it myself.

"Alohomora." The lock burst apart, allowing the door to slowly creep open, revealing a dishevelled and distressed professor sitting at his desk.

"Severus, please." She whispered softly, realising he had clearly come down from his short outburst of rage.

"Get out." He commanded, though he didn't make any effort to remove his head from his hands.

"Let's talk about this." The woman pleaded, pulling a chair up next to the man. "Let me explain everything."

Snape stirred from his position the closer she came, until finally he was able to look her in the eye.

"Go on." He droned. His eyes red and blood shot, whether it was from lack of sleep or tears was unclear.

"You know more than anyone that Karkaroff cannot be trusted-"

"Don't try and lie to me, Miss Dumbledore. I saw the whole thing with my own eyes." Snape snapped.

"Will you let me finish. I'm not lying to you, Severus." Aria promised. "I said what I said because I didn't want them to know the truth, Karkaroff especially. I don't know what his problem is but I know he's up to something and it involves you. You really think I'd answer any question he asked me truthfully. You're my friend, Severus, I care about you, and that man is a snake for trying to turn us against each other."

"Why should I believe you. I've barely known you a few months, I've known Igor decades."

"That is precisely why you should believe me. He's not your friend, Severus. If he was he'd be able to see the real you; the man behind the mask." She urged, begging for his trust.

Reaching out her hand to take his, Aria stroked a thumb over the cold and calloused hand of her friend.

"And who might that be?" Severus questioned in return, feeling slightly nervous under her touch, but not enough to want to pull away.

"A man." She stated simply. "Not a beast, as you and many others may presume. A good, and decent man. Perhaps he's a even a little bit scared, of what I'm not entirely sure yet. But I will find out one day, if you'll allow me, that is. Let me be your friend, Severus. Let me see what you hide from everyone else. And I promise, I'll be there for you when it matters most."

Her sweet soft tones encapsulated Severus. He had become so lost in her words and her touch that without realising he found himself falling for her speech wholeheartedly. He even risked settling his remaining hand upon hers, clasping her delicate fist between his palms.

"Well then I suppose an apology is in order. I believe I may have acted rather rash and unprofessional."

"There's really no need. You reacted just as you should have to the things you heard. I would have done the same thing in your circumstance." Aria admitted, removing her hand from his, as she made to stand up. "Though there is one thing you could do to make it up to me." She suggested.

"Dare I even ask?" Severus joked.

"I want to know what Karkaroff's after. Tell me how you know him. Why does he care so much about your life?"

Snape practically laughed in response.

"We may be friends now, Miss Dumbledore, but I'm afraid that information is rather personal. And I am not convinced we are quite at that stage in our friendship, just yet."

"I respect that." She shrugged, knowing he wasn't about to give in that easily. "I suppose that just means we'll have to get to know each other a bit more." She smiled almost ear to ear at the prospect.

*

"What do you have planned for your lesson today, Professor Dumbledore?" Severus queried, finally using the woman's rightful professional title.

"Ooooh 'Professor' now, am I?" She smirked, sashaying in front of her co-worker, balancing a handful of potion ingredients in her arms.

"I suppose that is your given title after all, I might as well start using it."

"Hmmm I'm not sure. I think it make's me sound too much like my grandfather. I'm not sure I could pull of the beard quite as well, what do you think?" She giggled, holding her long hair in front of her chin, imitating the old wizard playfully before clumsily dropping another dozen bottles on the table.

Severus tried his hardest to conceal his smile, busying himself with paper work, but however hard he tried he could not hide it from Aria. Every so often she managed to catch him off guard, with a silly joke, or a quick witted comment, in those rare times he allowed himself a glimmer of emotion she always managed to notice. Most of the time Severus found himself smiling at the woman for no reason other than she was simply smiling too.

Finally turning her attention away from the potions master, Aria finished setting up her table full of small bottles and vials.

"We're going to play a game." She announced cheerfully spinning on her heel.

"A game?" Severus asked, unable to stop himself turning his nose up at her idea.

"Yes. It's like a test, but more fun." She persuaded, sensing his judgement.

"And what, might I ask, is wrong with a traditional test."  He queried bitterly.

"The students need motivation, Severus. The word 'test' makes people nervous. With nervousness comes panic, and with panic comes mistakes. Fear is not an accurate motivator, however competition is. The students will be less inclined to make mistakes, if they are rewarded for their efforts." The apprentice hypothesised.

"And this reward is?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Severus fought the urge to roll his eyes, but allowed her to do her thing uninterrupted.

Since their little 'heart to heart' that night in Snape's office the two professors were finding working with each other a lot more amiable. Severus had given Aria a little more free reign with her portion of the lessons, which in turn, allowed her to respect Severus' strict theoretical practices without causing too many interruptions. The pair had almost started to enjoy working together.

Student by student the class trickled in, each of them intrigued by the new set up of the class room.

"Everyone please take your seats, do not touch the table at the front of the room, class will begin momentarily." Miss Dumbledore announced.

A moment of panic set in as Aria scrambled around Snape's desk, looking for her list of possible potions. This may not have been her first time teaching solo, but it was, however, her opportunity to prove her practices are successful in front of her mentor, Severus Snape. The man in question could see the fear in her eyes, and that she was desperate to impress.

"Here." He mouthed, handing her the piece of parchment. "Relax."

Brushing fingers, as she took the parchment from him, Aria grinned.

"Thank you." She whispered, once again turning to face the class, now with a little more confidence.

"Now today, as you may have guessed, we are going to do something a little different. Professor Snape and I have chosen to take this opportunity to allow you, our promising young N.E.W.Ts students, to show off your skill set to the best of your ability's. On this table in front of me you will find a select variety of potions ingredients that correspond to a number of potions all very much within your capability, your task is to complete one of these potions within the allotted time, at the end of which, a winner will be selected by us."

"What do we win then, professor?" One eager student asked.

"A potion of their choice." She declared, impulsively.

A murmer of chatter instantly broke out among the class, intrigued at the prospect of winning such a thing.

"That all sounds very exciting, Miss Dumbledore." Snape cut in, unwilling to take a backseat quite so easily. "However, sadly as an apprentice professor you are not permitted to take anything from my stores to use so frivolously. The prize will have to be decided at a later time."

Unsurprisingly the students weren't too pleased with Snape's intervention causing for a series of disappointed groans and heckles.

"Then I shall make it myself." Aria concluded.

Another bout of cheers erupted.

"Collect your ingredients, light up your cauldrons, your time starts now!"

Immediately the students jumped from their seats, swarming the table to get what they needed. The professors moved away from the crowd, giving the class a moment to get started.

"Miss Dumbledore, this is not a wise decision." Severus spoke in hushed tones. "I understand entirely the prize of a potion chosen by you, but to give them a choice could be extremely dangerous, think of the chaos that will ensue."

"How about you have a little faith in them for once. Trust that they will make the right decision."

Looking down on the woman, Severus couldn't help but trust she would be right.

"I have faith in you. Not in them." He made clear.

Severus made to walk away, leaving Aria to relish in her small victory, until he was suddenly pulled back by the young woman's hand in his. Not saying a word, Aria Dumbledore gave him an appreciative squeeze, before releasing him back to his desk.

The first hour of the classes passed by effortlessly, the students worked quietly and Severus found no reason to complain. All in all, Aria was quite pleased with how her lesson was going.

That was until...

"Oh shiiiiit."

"Language Mr. Lawrence." Severus warned, briefly looking up from his marking.

"Right, sorry sir. But what the fuck am I supposed to do when this thing starts bubbling like crazy." He freaked out, completely ignoring the potions master's warning.

"What?" Aria gasped, only just becoming aware of the situation.

"Yeah like this thing looks likes 'bout to blow, to be honest with you." The seventh year Hufflepuff boy informed nonchalantly.

"Step away from that cauldron students, quickly!" Aria ordered, ushering them to the sides of the classroom.  "You were attempting a wit-sharpening potion, is that correct?"

"Yup."

"I'm afraid there's no saving it now, Mr. Lawrence, the best we can hope for is that it does not turn to acid and burn through bench."

"Out of my way." Severus huffed impatiently, forcing his way through the crowd of students that had formed around the cauldron.

"Pass me that root of ginger" Snape demanded, positioning himself in front of the ever growing cauldron of bubbling green liquid. Aria obeyed hastily, as the professor performed what she could only describe as a miracle on this horrifying concoction. "Some more newt spleens." He requested, holding out a hand expectantly, while the other gripped onto his wand, casting an enchantment over the potion.

The potions master continued adding a bit of this and a dash of that to the potion, all ingredients Aria Dumbledore would never have considered to associate with this particular brew. Jars of herbs, spices and animal parts were passed through the classroom in order to reach Professor Snape who continuously stirred the potion, muttering all sorts of charms and spells.

However skilled Aria had assumed she was at the art of potion making, it was made clear to her that she was no match for Severus' skills, brewing potions was second nature to him now. Within minutes he had achieved what Aria Dumbledore had deemed impossible, and thus the potion was brought back to it's natural state.

"Severus..." The apprentice gawped. "That was amazing."

"That was nothing." He replied curtly, removing himself from the scene. "Everybody back to work, this is not an excuse to slack off."

Still in awe at the pure artistry she had witnessed, Aria trotted sheepishly back to the front of the class.

Blissfully unaware of the pure talent they had just seen, the students continued on with their work. The Hufflepuff boy did not even have the decency to thank his professor for salvaging the mess he called a potion, let alone be grateful he never received a detention, or deduction of house points.

"What are you staring at, Miss Dumbledore, is there no better way you can spend your time?"

"I'm sorry Severus, but that display was just... brilliant." She beamed.

"Like I said, it was nothing. It comes with the job, I refuse to have any of those delinquents burn through my entire store cupboard because they cannot brew a simple potion, a year below their level no less."

"Well, at least we know who definitely won't be winning anyway." Aria giggled.

"The most we can hope for from that boy is that he manages to finish his potion, god knows he'll need it."

Playfully slapping Snape on the arm for his cheek, the witch perched herself on the edge of the professor's desk, attempting a quick sketch on a scrap piece of parchment, while the students begun to finish off their potions.

"Professor Snape, the winner?" Aria asked, turning to her colleague for a verdict once all of the potions had been completed.

"You want me to choose?" Severus replied, skeptical of her offer.

"Of course. I don't think it would be fair of me to do it, considering I've been giving all of them tips this lesson."

"Very well." He droned, stepping forth to analyse the contents of the cauldrons.

"This one." He announced, pointing a single finger to the cauldron of a young Slytherin witch. "Given that it was the only potion brewed to complete perfection, there is no other possible candidate. I suggest the rest of you get studying before your N.E.W.T's exams, at the rate you lot are going, none of you besides Miss Johnstone here is likely to pass." Snape scolded.

"Well then, congratulations Miss Johnstone, you are the winner of a potion of your choice. See me after lessons tomorrow and let me know your decision."

The girl practically beamed with pride, expecting nothing less than first place.

"Class dismissed."

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel @lizlil

[ateezmakemeweep]

could you please do a reaction to ateez finding out your tumblr profile? like it was supposed to be hidden but they snuck up or something and saw it? thank you!

❥ kim hongjoong

you had a tumblr before you started dating hongjoong and it was the only form of social media you kept after going public with your relationship. it was an account no one knew about, where you were still able to have close contact with your friends and have some form of entertainment. 

and if you just so happen to stumble upon gifs and videos of your boyfriend, then you’d give it a like or reblog. just for fun and to support the content creators, not because you throughly enjoyed them and thought he was-

“is that me?”

you jump at hearing your boyfriend’s voice, your eyes widening as you turn your phone into your chest; you hadn’t even heard it come in. 

“no!” you tried to deny but he’d already seen it, walking over and raising an eyebrow at you. he pecked your cheek and insisted that if you wanted pictures of him, he’d be more than happy to take some from you while he’s out at practice or in the studio. 

❥ park seonghwa

“let me see it, baby.”

“it’s nothing,” you whine, sitting under your phone with a rampant blush on your cheeks. you were just scrolling through your social media accounts before bed, craning your neck over your shoulder to check if seonghwa had come out of the bathroom; but you still heard the water running and deemed it safe to check, looking through the few ateez accounts you started following a few weeks ago. 

something about it felt weird but you liked seeing his face pop up on your dashboard, knowing that you had an extra outlet for information if you couldn’t get into direct contact with him. 

that was until he came up behind you and called your name softly, a gasp leaving you as your phone fell to the floor. you scrambled to pick it up and sat on it, the boy immediately raising his eyebrow at you. 

and it was with one stern look you let out a sigh, flipping your phone over to show case a gif of him dancing. he bit his lip to hide his smile, something soft and warm filling his chest as he places a kiss on top of your head.

you whine at him in embarrassment but he only presses a finger to your lips, admitting that he thinks it’s cute you look at those things. 

❥ jeong yunho

it was really your friend’s fault in the first place, a link she sent you with yunho and his “cute friend you just have to set her up with,” leading down the spiral of ateez tagged content. 

you had never had a tumblr and didn’t know how it worked but you quickly discovered it was a great place to see cute little pictures and videos of your boyfriend when he was away on tour or shows and you couldn’t see him. 

but when yunho surprised you a day early and walked in unannounced, he saw his face on your phone and a small smile immediately lit his face. “what is that?”  you squealed at the sound of his voice, your phone flying in the air and plopping on the couch as you turned around.

you didn’t even have the time to be embarrassed or mad at him for scaring you because you hadn’t seen him in weeks, rushing over to him and throwing yourself into him. he laughs against your head as he puts his arms around you, pulling back after a long-awaited hug with a small smile on his face. 

and that’s when the embarrassment floods through you, biting down on your lip because he just caught you looking at him on tumblr. “i…can explain, my friend showed me that at first because she has a crush on seonghwa and-“

he shakes his head as he places a kiss on your lips, mumbling that he missed you too.

❥ kang yeosang

“why does he do this? is he kidding me? i could seriously just-“

“what are you doing?”

and if you weren’t tipsy from your night out with him and the boys, you would’ve never outed yourself. would’ve never shoved your phone in his face with your tumblr profile displayed and asked your shy, reserved boyfriend why he does this for other people to see. 

he couldn’t stop the laugh from bubbling out of him, taking you in his arms and guiding your stumbling frame to the bedroom. and it’s only the next morning, your head pounding the second your eyes open and you see yeosang looking down at you, that he smirks and pokes fun at you for last night.

“so…how long have you had that account?” 

you try to play dumb at first but then with morning hair and puffy eyes, he sticks his tongue out and brings his thumb to his mouth teasingly, a horrified gasp leaving you because you can recall that gif far too well.

❥ choi san

a tiny noise in the back of your throat alerts san immediately, eating his food with your feet in his lap. it was rather bold of you to start with, scrolling through tumblr right next to him when you know you see posts of him. 

but you hadn’t ever seen one like this, even given the... obvious duality to your boyfriend. because now, he’s turned and looking at with his mouth stuffed with noodles, his head turned to the side as he asks if you’re okay.

“ye-yeah, sorry,” you mumble out, heating rushing to your cheeks as you get out an excuse about something being stuck in your throat. but then he smirks after swallowing his food, raising an eyebrow that proves he just doesn’t quite believe you. 

and how could he, when the mirror behind you has been giving you away this whole time?

“you sure about that?” he asks with a small smile, ditching his food as he leans over and places a kiss on the tip of your nose. you scrunch it up as you hide your phone away from him, gasping when the boy nods his head behind you and you see your reflection staring back at you.

❥ song mingi

you tried to stay away from looking at your boyfriend’s presence on social media. something about it made you feel awkward, almost like you shouldn’t be looking at it as someone who knows him in real life.

but sometimes they just pop up and you can’t bring yourself to look away or not give it a like. you thought mingi was sleeping as you laid in bed and double clicked your screen, reminding yourself to find a video of that performance and watch it for science. 

“you’re not gonna reblog it?” 

a gasp leaves your mouth at your boyfriend’s deep teasing voice, turning over and smacking him in the arm roughly. “how did you…why do you…how do you even know about that!” a smirk makes its way on his face as he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, telling you that if you’re good, he’ll let you wear that shirt one day. 

❥ jung wooyoung

wooyoung couldn’t help running over to tease you when he saw you scrolling, the familiar dance move and scene catching his eye on your phone immediately. 

“now who is that?” 

you let out a gasp as you hear wooyoung right behind you, a quiet “ahh,” leaving you that cause him to throw his head back in laughter. he had no idea you followed him or his group’s presence on social media but he can’t say he was mad about it, pressing a kiss on your cheek before rubbing at the warm skin with his finger. 

“what’s your account name? wooyoungswifey?” 

“you’re disgusting, of course not!” you squeal, hitting at your boyfriend who only continues to tease you relentlessly. 

“do you write fan fiction about me? no need to, babe, when you got the real thing right here.”

you hide your face in your pillow and resist the urge to scream, wooyoung’s laugh ringing in your ears only making your embarrassment worse. 

❥ choi jongho

you let out a giggle and eye roll scrolling on your tumblr account, shaking your head at the sight you’re all too familiar with. and jongho must notice because, without your knowledge, he peeks over and catches the sight of him on your phone screen.

he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face as he continues to cook for you, not calling you out until he places your food down. you immediately feel your face flush, stammering and stuttering that you don’t go on a lot and only sometimes like pictures of him.

“sometimes?” he asks with a look of concern on his face. “why only sometimes? you should be liking them all the time.”

you roll your eyes at you throw a carrot at him, embarrassment still coursing through you but happy he didn’t tease you too bad about it.

[twomoonstwosuns]

secrets.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warnings: swearing, smut (18+), tiny amount of angst, age gap (reader over 18), everything consensual

word count: 4.2k

a/n: even i’m saying finally this thing is up, i’ve been dying to get it posted the last two days. also i haven't added gifs, but should i? it might not go with the chapter i still might start. we’ve got some good drama coming soon, plus finn and rey! tag list still open! feedback appreciated!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Poe had never been an early riser. He enjoyed taking his time to wake up in the morning and getting ready instead of racing against the clock. It had become a habit for him to wake up early since he started teaching, his body adjusting to waking up at the same time five days a week. If he could help it, he’d laze around in bed on the weekends until he felt he absolutely had to be up. However, someone else in the house had other ideas.

A very hungry Beebs pawed at his dad, letting out a pathetic whine as he did. He only had to do it twice before it woke Poe up. Poe reached down and scratched his head before moving to get up, the arm wrapped around his waist making him remember he hadn’t slept alone last night.

Your hand laid gently across his stomach, holding his back to your front. It was the first time Poe ever remembered being the little spoon and he liked it, something about it making him feel so cared for. He gently rubbed his hand along your arm, bringing your hand up to his lips and kissing your palm as he sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He heard you stir behind him, your hand searching for where it had been laying.

“Come back, you’re warm.” Your words were barely coherent as you were still half asleep. Poe smiled at how adorable he found you in such a sleepy state.

“I have to take Beebs out,” he said, leaning over and brushing away the loose hair that had fallen in your face. “I’ll come right back, I promise.”

You breathed deeply as you nodded, pulling the blanket up to your chin. Poe looked at you for a few more seconds before finally getting up, pulling on warmer clothes to protect himself from the bitter morning air.

As he walked Beebs around the outside of his building, he thought back to the previous night. It had been everything he wanted and more, and he couldn’t believe you felt the same way. He had a hunch from the reaction you gave him when he had told you about his blind date, but to actually see it in person was worth the angst he felt he put you through. He didn’t want the night to end, nor did he want you to leave his apartment.

It was fast, but he was ready to dive in headfirst. And if you weren’t, well, he’d hold himself back, just as long as he had you. 

The bed felt lonely without Poe, making your hope of getting a little bit more sleep fly out the window. You leaned over to grab your phone, checking any text messages that had come in. There was one that caught your attention, but you refused to give it a second thought when you felt Poe slide in bed behind you. You placed your phone face down on the nightstand before rolling over. Poe’s arm was stretched out, beckoning you to him and acting as a protective pillow as you rolled into him, your head on his bicep and his hand curled around your shoulder. You jumped at the feeling of him.

“You’re freezing.”

“Warm me up.”

Poe wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him and burrowing his face into the junction of your shoulder. You squealed at the iciness of his skin, wriggling to try and get free but making him hold onto you that much tighter. The chill eventually became familiar and you stopped moving, your hand tenderly tracing the seam of the t-shirt across his shoulder. Poe brought his head up, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” he said.

“Morning.”

Poe pressed his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. You kissed him back for a second before pulling back, Poe chasing your lips.

“I have morning breath,” you managed to mutter as Poe kissed you again.

“I don’t care,” he smiled against your lips, moving the hand at your waist to rest flat against your back. You shared his smile and pressed your lips to his once again for a quick kiss. Poe pulled you into him as he settled onto his back.

“Did you sleep ok?”

“I did, even though I had to contort around Beebs.”

“He’s a bed hog.”

“Does he always wake you up this early?”

“Yeah, he’s a dog of routine. Breakfast same time every day. You’ll get used to it.”

You hummed contently. “More sleepovers, I can’t wait.”

You lay there in content silence, your hand rubbing along his stomach as his fingers danced along your shoulder, down your arm, and occasionally into your hair. You were already dreading having to leave, having to go back to reality of homework and cleaning and doing whatever else you needed to prepare for the week ahead. Your fingers brushed over the ring on his necklace where it lay between his chest and his shirt, your fingers lingering with the question on the tip of your tongue. Poe placed his hand over yours.

“It was my mom’s wedding ring,” he explained softly. “She died when I was 8. My dad never remarried and he gave this to me to give to my own wife someday. I never go anywhere without it.”

There was a catch in his voice that told you that, even after all these years, it was still sometimes hard to talk about his mother. He was sharing a deeply personal part of him with you, like you had done a few weeks earlier. And like that night, despite wanting to ask him more about it, you didn’t rush him to tell you anything. You sat up on your elbow, running a finger gently over his five o’clock shadow.

“I had a hunch. You didn’t mention her last night,” you said just as softly, giving him a small smile of understanding. “You’ll have to tell me more about her someday. When you want to.”

Poe turned his head and kissed your finger when it got close to his lips. You laid your head on his shoulder and continued to run your finger along his jaw, the simple touch relaxing him. Both of you felt like you could fall back asleep when your stomach suddenly growled intrusively. Poe snorted and squeezed your shoulder with a kiss on your head.

“Let’s go get breakfast.”

You untangled yourself from him, finally leaving the bed and stretching your arms above your head. Your legs were sore from skating the previous night and you knew you’d have to find some stretches to do later. You followed Poe out and immediately heard the clicking of paws and the jingle of a collar.

“Morning Beebs.”

Beebs stared up at you, his tail wagging excitedly and his tongue hanging out. You stared back down at him, sticking your own tongue out at him. You made funny faces at him until he gave a joyful bark and jumped up on you. You leaned down to scratch behind his ears, letting him give you a few affectionate licks across your face.

Poe watched you interact with Beebs, a smile on his face. Beebs was devotedly man’s best friend, someone who was always there no matter what kind of shit Poe got into and never judged him for it, unless of course it interfered with his breakfast. The dog already had a sweet spot for you from the few times he had been around when you were, but to see someone he could see himself with for a while returning the same affection Beebs was giving you was truly heartwarming.

Beebs followed you into the kitchen, sitting nicely and staring up at you.

“Beebs you had your breakfast,” you said as you hopped up on the counter, your legs dangling over the edge. “It’s my turn.”

Poe came over, standing in front of you and placing his hands on the counter on either side of you. “What’ll it be? I can pretty much make you anything you want.”

“You did so much last night, let me do something.”

Poe shook his head. “Nope. Consider this part three of our first date.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Fine, but next time I’m cooking or paying for something or…something.”

“Deal. So, what’re you having?”

“I’m not a big breakfast person this early in the morning, how about toast?”

“Toast it is.” Poe patted your thigh before walking over to his pantry. “I have butter, jam, peanut butter, Nutella—“

“Nutella all the way.”

As Poe busied himself making breakfast, you caught yourself in the reflection of his microwave and saw just how tousled your hair was. You ran your hand through it in an attempt to tame it. Beebs followed his owner around the kitchen, either trying to trip Poe and get him to accidentally drop something or hoping Poe will take pity and drop something. Poe handed you a plate with your requested breakfast, keeping the jar of Nutella handy in case you wanted more than what he had put on there.

Everything about the last twelve hours just felt so easy and natural, and you felt silly at how nervous you had been. You thought about going back to your apartment, whenever that might be, and wondered if your roommates would be there or not. If they were, you knew they’d bombard you with questions about your date and you would happily comply.

But there would be one important piece you would have to leave out.

“Would you be ok with me telling Jess and Karéabout you?” You crossed your ankles and set the plate down next to you, popping the last remaining piece of toast into your mouth. “I mean they already know ofyou, but not you you, and I figured since we’ll be together more…or I can wait, that’s fine too.”

“It’s fine with me, since I kind of already told Finn about you.” Poe smiled guiltily and you bit back a laugh. Your tongue darted out to grab the Nutella that you felt lingering on your lip, and a playful smirk crossed your face when you saw Poe’s eyes follow the little movement. His eyes lingered there and you shifted under his intense gaze.

“Poe!” you giggled, bringing his attention from your lips to your eyes. He threw his plate in the sink and walked over to you, his hands pushing your knees apart so he could stand between them.

“You’re distracting,” he said, kissing softly along your jaw. Your breath quickened as the tips of his fingers circled the bend of your knee. “You look so good wearing my clothes, wrinkled from sleeping in my bed…”

You pulled his lips to yours, the taste of Nutella on his tongue. He kissed you languidly, no real reason to move quickly despite his growing desire for you. His fingertips grazed the top of your thighs, sliding underneath the hem of his boxers. You shivered under his touch. His hands moved up your thighs and around your waist, pulling you to the edge of the counter. Poe pressed his hips into yours, his hardening cock pressing close to where you wanted him. You gasped at the feeling, your mouth opening just enough for Poe to slide his tongue in and lazily tangle with yours. You couldn’t help the breathy moan that came from your throat and Poe pulled away, his nose nudging yours.

“We can take this slow,” he spoke quietly. You could feel how much he wanted you at that moment, and you knew he was restraining himself from taking you on that counter.

“I know,” you curled his hair around his ears, looking at him indulgently. “But I don’t want to. Do you?”

Poe rolled his hips into yours, a smirk coming to his face when you inhaled sharply.

“No, but I would for you.”

You kissed his lips softly before kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Take me back to bed.”

Poe slid you off the counter, his hands gripping your legs to wrap around his waist. Your arms around his neck held you to him as you kissed his neck. Poe crawled onto his bed skillfully, holding you tight so you wouldn’t fall as he brought you to the head of the bed. He dropped you gently into the mess of pillows, taking a quick second to look at the way your hair was splayed around you, a dreamy look on your face.

Your hands moved down his chest as he bent down to kiss you with more fervor and you grabbed handfuls of his shirt, breaking apart long enough for you to tug it up and over. You threw it behind you, you and Poe giggling when you heard something fall from the nightstand onto the floor. You craned your head back to see if you broke anything, but the feeling of Poe’s hips pressed into yours as he sucked a spot onto your neck brought your attention back to him.

His hands ran up your sides, bunching up his borrowed shirt before taking it off. As his lips moved from your neck down to your chest, you lifted your hips, chasing his to recreate the delicious friction he was creating against your core. You felt Poe smile against your skin.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he said, the low vibration of his timbre flooding your body with heat. You let out a displeased whine, making Poe come back up to your face to kiss you quiet. You reached for his pajama bottoms, pushing them as far down as you could.

“I don’t have a lot of that right now,” you groaned as Poe suckled your breast, his hands pushing his bottoms the rest of the way down. He enjoyed the sweet torment he gave you, the need to hear you beg becoming overwhelming, but he ached to be inside you. He gripped the waistband of the boxers he had loaned you, giving into your impatience and tugging them and your underwear down. Poe cupped your heat, dragging a finger along your folds and teasing your entrance. He prided himself at the way he could make you wet so quickly.

You were in no mood for teasing. Truth be told, you had wanted him since last night, but the way you wanted him then and the way you wanted him now were very different. You pushed Poe off of you and onto his back, straddling his lap. He could’ve stopped you, but he was now just as eager for you as you were for him. You ground your hips into his, the head of his cock dragging against your folds, coating him with your slick. He let out a strained groan as you wrapped your hand around the base, gently pumping him as you lined him up with your entrance.

“Wait.” He sat up and grabbed your wrist, halting your actions. “Condom?”

You dropped your head onto his shoulder, a quiet ‘fuck’ leaving your lips before you looked back up at him.

“We’re getting carried away again, aren’t we?” Poe nodded and exhaled pleasantly as you moved your hand up and down his cock. “I’m clean and ok with not using one but only if you are too.”

Poe threaded his hands into your hair, kissing you deeply. His tongue moved slowly along yours, sending a shiver up your spine.  

“I’m clean too,” he said against your lips, gently biting down on your bottom lip and pulling a whine from you. “And it’s more than ok with me.”

You pushed Poe back onto the bed and realigned him with your entrance. You sunk down onto him, his head falling back against the mattress. You took him all the way in to the hilt and you swear you’d never felt fuller.

“You’re so tight,” Poe groaned, grasping your hips and squeezing them as you clenched around him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

He gave you a second to adjust before grasping your hips and guiding you up and down. Your hands rested on his chest, your nails digging into his skin just a little when his cock brushed against your g-spot. Your already sore muscles ached in protest, but you ignored them, bouncing on him faster as his fingers dug into your hips. You rode him faster, legs trembling from exertion and yesterday’s exhaustion as filthy words of praise fell from your mouth. Poe leaned up to capture your lips, moving down to your neck as he took over and drove his cock up into you.

“Poe—Poe—“ you chanted his name like a prayer as your walls fluttered around him, your body ready to snap at any second. Poe drove deeper into you and the third time he hit that spot inside you, you came apart, gripping onto him for dear life. You slowly rode him through your orgasm, your forehead falling against his as you tried to steady your breathing.

Poe suddenly held you down on him, keeping you fully impaled on his cock. His hand curled into your hair, gripping tightly, the moan you let out loud and sinful. He held you to him, his entire length staying inside you as he carefully flipped you onto your back. You clutched onto the hard muscles of his back and your lips attached to his collarbone, soft whimpers falling from your throat as he pistoned his hips into you. You were still so sensitive from your first orgasm that you twitched hard when Poe began circling your clit in time with his thrusts. His thrusts were becoming erratic, as was his assault on your clit, and you knew he was close.

“Cum for me,” you panted as your back arching as your second orgasm washed over you, your eyes screwing shut from the overstimulation. Poe grunted as he spilled into you, his hips stuttering as his release coated your walls, your pussy milking him for everything he had. Poe rode you through both of your orgasms, both of your chests heaving from exertion. You ran your fingers through his damp curls, smiling against his lips. His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers above your head as his forehead fell against yours.  

“God damn,” he laughed breathlessly, squeezing your hand. You laughed with him and kissed him softly.

You hissed in pleasure as Poe pulled out, letting go of you to get a washcloth to clean you up. He was tender as he did, placing sweet kisses on the spots on your hips where the bruises from his grip would soon be. He tossed the washcloth onto the nightstand and grabbed the blanket, pulling it over the two of you. Your limbs were tangled and your bodies pressed up against each other.

“I wanted this you know,” Poe muttered into the darkness of the room. “After we had sex, all I wanted to do was hold you.”

You squeezed him against you. It was like the two of you shared one brain, and you wondered why it took you so long to realize what you wanted.

“There are so many ‘should haves’,” you said. “At least we have it now.”

Poe turned his head to kiss the side of your forehead, his lips brushing against it as breathed you in. Between the warmth of the bed and the warmth of each other, you were both asleep in minutes.

》 》 》

It was early afternoon when you finally got back to your apartment. You and Poe had gotten another two hours of sleep before finding yourselves in the shower for round two. You then spent ten minutes at his door saying goodbye. Kissing him goodbye at his apartment rather than outside of yours seemed like a good idea when you thought of it, but all it did was prolong the inevitable.

You dropped your things in your room and managed to change out of last night’s clothes and get a bag of chips out of the pantry before Jessika and Karéambushed you, dragging you to the living room to give them all the details. You hadn’t even told them about dinner inside his apartment when Jessika interrupted you.

“Who knew booty call was such a romantic?” She had said, and you decided right then it was now or never.

“If I tell you guys who he is, you promise not to say anything?” Karé and Jessika nodded their heads so hard you thought they’d hurt themselves. “I’m serious, you can’t tell anyone.”

“You’re being super secretive, which means we know him, he’s famous, or he’s married.” Karé said. You rolled your eyes.

“He’s not famous and he’s not married,” you said. “You do know him though.”

“Is it Snap?” Jessika asked. You shot her a look that said ‘are you stupid?’.

“No, it’s not Snap!” You exclaimed incredulously. You looked at Karé and shook your head again. She just rolled her eyes knowingly.

“Is it that guy you dated in high school? The one who wanted to marry you after like four months?” Karé asked.

“Ben? No…but he did text me this morning.”

“What did he say?”

“Story for another time, Karé!” Jessika exclaimed. “Ok, tell us.”

You took a deep breath, looking between both of your roommates. “It’s Poe Dameron.”

“Poe Dameron?” Jessika asked. “Who the fu—wait, Damer—Professor Dameron?!”

You bit the inside of your cheek, giving them a small nod. Their jaws were dropped and you could tell they were searching for words.

“Y/N…” Karé gave you a disbelieving look.

“You’re dating your teacher?!” Jessika exclaimed, shooting up from her spot on the couch. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be my teacher this semester. And he wasn’t when we got together.”

“Still, Y/N!”

You stood up as well, trying your best to calm the situation down. Jessika just looked at you, shaking her head in disbelief. “Man, I never thought you’d be the type of person to sleep around to get ahead.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms in front of your chest, irritation bubbling inside of you.

“Then you don’t know me at all, because that’s not what I’m doing and you damn well know it. I’ve been on the dean’s list since freshman year. I don’t need any help getting ahead.”

Your roommates glanced at each other, Jessika looking mad and Karé looking more concerned than angry. You sighed.

“I’ve told both of you how I feel about him. If it was just about sex and just about getting good grades, I wouldn’t have fucking gone out with him last night.”  

“If people found out, he could lose his job.” Karé pointed out.

“You don’t think I’ve had that internal argument in my head fifty times before? Of course I know he can lose his job.”

“I just—I don’t know, Y/N…”

“I know you’re shocked and you have every right to be, but I wanted to tell you because I had an amazing night and an amazing morning and the first thing I wanted to do was tell you guys all about it. But if it makes you uncomfortable and you don’t want to hear it, then I won’t say anything anymore. The only thing I ask is that you don’t tell anyone. Please.”

Karé nodded but didn’t say anything. You looked at Jessika and mouthed a plead to her. She finally nodded, and you released the breath you were holding.

“Can I ask you something?” Jessika said. You nodded. “Are you sure you’re not just supplementing your daddy issues?”

Your jaw dropped and you took an angry step in her direction.

“I’m sorry, my what?!”you practically yelled. Jessika took a step towards you.

“You’re dad left, you’re dating an older man…”

You felt angry tears gather in your eyes, but held them back.

“First of all, Poe’s 32. He’s not that much older than us!” you spat. “Second of all, if I was ‘supplementing my daddy issues’ as you so lovingly put it, I’d be going after someone closer to my dad’s age who was similar to him. Poe’s nothing like him.”

A flash of guilt crossed Jessika’s face. She realized she had maybe taken it a step too far. You backed away from both girls, glaring at both of them. “I can’t believe you’d throw that in my face.”

You were more hurt than mad. Jessika looked at you for another few seconds before calmly walking away. You did the same, making your way to your room and shutting the door before you said something you knew you’d regret.

You flopped on your bed, groaning into your blankets and regretting the decision to tell them. You had come back from Poe’s in the best mood with the biggest smile on your face and it took not even ten minutes for your mood to take a drastic turn.

tag list [open!] - @ah-callie @darksideofclarke @gloomygoregirl @leilei-draws @imaginecrushes @i-ievu @brianamaree @yeeintensifies @spider-starry @krazykatkay456 @fanfiction-trashpile @afootnoteinyourhappiness @easterncryptid @my-child-gaara @myrandom-fandomlife @onebatch--twobatch

[highsviolets]

the sweet secrets of loving

summary: Obi-wan returns from deployment with a sweet surprise

word count: 1.8k+ (what)

cw: brief mention of war/deployment 

A/N:  after discussing Obi-Wan’s culinary abilities with @thespareoom​ and @obitwo​, this little one-shot popped into my head last night and it wouldn’t leave me alone. this is so soft and i just -- if you need me i will be yearning // shout out to @afogocado for finding this gif (if it’s yours pls lmk so I can credit you!)

the sweet secrets of loving, a fic by corellians-only 

Silver keys seemed to dance in your hand as you fumbled with the lock, the metal glaring in your face as they reflected the merciless fluorescent lights bearing down on you with foreboding.

After several agonizing moments spent twisting the key, trying to locate the elusive sweet spot that would permit access to your apartment, the stubborn thing acquiesced and the door swung open.

He was already there. A feeling like a soft summer breeze swept over you at the sight his buzzed auburn hair, his pride and authority etched into his shoulders like the precise stitching of his combat uniform still clinging to his back. He was staring out the window, and you could tell from the way his thumb curled around the unit insignia on his left ring finger that he was anxious.

“Darling?” you called out, mustering the last dredges of your willpower to not sprint to his side.You simply waited by the door, setting down the cumbersome black box of files your boss had insisted you take home this evening, no, really, it would be most helpful if you could compare the spring and fall mockups tonight. The box of responsibility rebounded off the hardwood floor and skidded slightly, blending in with the muffled closing of the door behind you.

It was no matter, anyway. The box had barely escaped the protective gaze of your fingers when he was pulling you into him. His head bowed down to nestle in the crook of your neck and you laughed as his fine hair tickled your cheek. You pressed a kiss to his sheared locks. “Hello, Obi-Wan,” you whispered, as though speaking any louder would bring a curse upon you both, would take him away from you again.

At the sound of his name, Obi-Wan straightened and took your face in his hands. His thumb drew angels across your cheekbones. “Darling,” he breathed. Aquamarine eyes met yours. It felt like getting caught in the hail — confusion, wonder, a homecoming of understanding, a bite of pain.

When the two of you video chat during his deployments, his eyes are always darker. They’re steel and iron and the reflection of your keys in the hallway and the torment of a sea during the storm as it fights against the waves.

Every time he comes home, they change. They become lighter, the way his body does without the Kevlar bulletproof vest.

When he looks at you like that — like the world would burn and he would still go to war to fight for you alone — your resolve shatters, the way a window must when his bullet crashes through its pane, searching for the sniper.

Your fingers grasp his wrists and tug at the end of his sleeve. The pink of your painted nails contrasts horribly with his camouflage, and the absurd thought makes you laugh even as he dips his head in acquaintance to your nonverbal command.

The first kiss is simple, like the routine act of walking from the metro to you apartment. Routine, familiar, but not unexciting. A expression of the vibrancy of life. Your lips meet his, like an embrace, and stay there for several long moments.

A second kiss, the third, the fourth: these are more demanding. The way his hands slip under diaphanous emerald silk tells you that this is more like a carefully timed assault. His mouth is precise and exacting, his tongue pushes back against your claims to dominance, his fingers press into skin and yours clutch at the unforgiving fabric of his uniform.

You disconnect and he smiles, a steady, even thing that shows his teeth. Even so, it threatens to split his face in two, and the dust that seems to be shedding from his laugh lines makes you wonder the last time he was truly happy.

But you ascend to your tiptoes and kiss his cheek and banish all thoughts of his deployment, at least for tonight. “C’mon, Obi-Wan.” You take his hand and start dragging him to the kitchen. “Let’s eat.”

____

It is not until later that evening that you discover his secret. Padding into the kitchen, you open the fridge to retrieve a new bottle of sparkling water when something strange caught your eye.

“Obi?” you say. The hike in your tone matches the spike in your anxiety and unease. “You didn’t happen to pick up some tofu in miso when you went to store earlier, did you? There’s uh —“ you pause, staring at the blob in apprehension — “something…weird in the fridge.”

“Ah.” He follows your path into the kitchen and steps behind you to better see the object in question. “I see you’ve found dessert. I wondered how long it would take.” Amusement colors his tone, and you turn your head to see a smirk decorating his lips.

“Oh.” The unassuming expression is the only thing that enters your vacuous mind, consumed by the strangeness of the oval-shaped yellow-and-caramel colored mass. You run your fingers through your hair — now freed from its stuffy updo — in an attempt to wrest some meaning back into your existence. “What, um, what is it?”

Obi-Wan extends his arms and catches you in an embrace from behind. “It’s a flan, darling!” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Obi-Wan squeezes your waist in excitement and you lean back into his chest, comforted that its soft cotton of an old t-shirt that greets you, rather than his fatigues.

“Oh.” Emptiness returns, and now the exoticism of the strange food is coupled with curious revulsion that Obi-Wan is so interested in something that seems so…unappealing.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and gently scoots you out of his path and puts the platter on the counter. You watch him as he gathers plates, washes fresh utensils, and meticulously cuts the thing, taking care to add extra sauce to each slice. He thrusts a plate at you. “Try it,” he urges.

You don’t like dessert. Never have. You’d rather eat something savory than something sweet, and after years of failed attempts, Obi-Wan has largely given up. But here he is, staring at you with those aquamarine eyes, practically begging you to try this foreign sweet treat.

So you do. The custard is smooth, like the silk of your top, and flecked with spots of intense vanilla flavoring. Caramel oozes into every bite, rich in tone and balancing the tenderness of the egg and sugar.

“Oh my god.” You meet his eyes, and you can tell he’s valiantly staving off another grin. He never presses his lips together like that otherwise. “This is — Obi, this is amazing. Like, vintage Chanel kind of amazing.”

He laughs aloud at your comparison, taking the two plates and reassuming his previous position on the couch.

“I’m glad to hear you enjoy it, sweetheart.” He erupts into another round of chuckles when you moan around the next bite.

“What did you say this is?” you point to the concoction with you spoon.

“Flan, dearest,” he says mildly, taking a bite himself. “Ah, you’re right, it did turn out rather well today. My mother would be proud.”

The statement gives you pause, and you set down your spoon. “Your mother? Wait — did you make this?”

Obi-wan looks at you, surprise evident in his half-smile and narrowed eyes. “Of course I did! Where did you think I got it?”

“I didn’t know you could bake!” The statement is bald, and childish, but you don’t care.

“How did you think all the cookies and tray bakes appeared, then?” He raises an eyebrow mischievously. There’s nothing he loves more than poking holes in your logic, especially when you cling to it so resolutely.

“Oh, I don’t know!” you splutter. “I suppose I thought you bought them, or something!” You throw him a mock glare. “Not my fault you never told me that you bake.”

He launches himself forward and drops a conciliatory kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’m very sorry, darling,” he says seriously, but there’s a twinkle in his eye so you shove him away from you. The gesture is playful and wondrous in its innocence, and for a moment you feel as though you are in university again, staying up late in the student lounge talking, long before uniforms and obligations and separations. You want to say something but the words get caught in your throat as you remember your promise to leave the boots behind. At least this one night.

“What is flan, anyway? When did you learn to make it?” you say instead, forcing the words out and taking another bite. The sweetness caresses the bitterness lingering in your mind.

“It’s a long story,” he says, shifting his gaze to the window.

You place an hand on his bare arm. “I want to hear it,” you say, and you do.

So he tells you. He tells you of his French mother spending her childhood summers across the Pyrenees in Spain, learning dishes like arroz con pollo and tortilla española and flan. The family cook become a grandmother to her, he says, and again he plays with the unit insignia on his ring and you know he misses his mother more than ever.

Flan became his mother’s speciality, he explains. He points to the sheen on the custard and talks about how his mother learned how to perfectly beat the eggs and how she favored the caramel sauce against the hard caramel on her native country’s creme brûlée and how the family cook in Spain gifted her with her very own flan pan when she was eighteen years old.

You ask him how he came to bake such things. He smiles again and despite its joy, your heart aches because you never knew. While his father was deployed, he would bake with his mother to keep her company, and she taught him tarte tatin alongside flan and the Bakewell tarts his father so enjoyed.

“It was how she told people she loved them,” he says with a shrug, finishing his portion. “She would bake for the other women whose husbands were deployed, or for the family next door, or for my best friend’s cousin’s birthday, or if I had a bad day at school there would be something sweet waiting for before I went to bed.” Obi-wan rests his head on his hand, considering. “I guess I’m the same way. I came home and I wanted to do something nice for you, to tell you I love you.”

“That’s awfully sweet of you, Obi.” The pun is bad and you both know it, but he laughs and kisses you anyway. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“I love you too,” you murmur against his mouth. “Will you bake me something tomorrow?”

“Darling,” he presses a kiss to the edge of your lips. “I will bake you something every single day if that is what makes you happy.”

And you say you want him to, because you want him to love you forever.

[sooibian]

Stranger Things (1)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader ft. Kyungsoo

Genre: Fluff, meet cute, non-idol AU

Description: While waiting to receive Kyungsoo at the airport you run into an insufferable someone - Byun Baekhyun. Despite yourself, you are unable to resist his charms.

A/N: No BaekSoo, no life. Know BaekSoo, know life. This is a highly self indulgent oneshot because I simply cannot resist bobohu anymore. Also if I edit, I’ll never upload. So please, bear with this unedited mess and bad humor (: and try not to hate on OC! 

Word Count: ~ 2k

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four (Final)

gif credits: @x-exo​

“He’s a lawyer”, you tilted your head to the side with your nose in the air, foolishly waving your platinum band bearing hand in his general direction. Byun Baekhyun, the man you’d met barely thirty minutes ago, had managed to bring out your inner “chatty Cathy” while eyeing you with the slightest of the smirks tugged at his lips. It was nauseating. The smirk, his bouffant persona, the way he slurped his ramen, his unkempt fake blond hair - he insisted on running a hand though the annoying yet bountiful tousle ever so often  - disheveling it further. One glance at his showy Rolex and you’d written him off as a wealthy fop. Yet, here you were, seated in front of him, trying to make sense of the situation. 

Kyungsoo’s flight was delayed by over an hour. Although you wanted nothing more than to find the inviting comfort of your bed, you decided to keep your promise of picking him up from the airport. Even if it meant spending time with this strange (literally and figuratively) man. You were no night owl. Therefore, you needed the caffeine fix to stay conscious so you huddled to the coffee shop closest to the arrival gate only to run into him again. The single vacant seat happened to be on his tiny table which he graciously put up for offer - I’m Byun Baekhyun. And I don’t bite! Apart from the unbridled desire to prick his inflated ego with a needle, you realized you’d come on a bit too strong earlier when he mistakenly put his hand on yours while going for the same copy of Forbes in the magazine kiosk. Was he apologetic then? No. Not really. But you didn’t have to pull an ugly face and call him a creep. Sure, lack of sleep made you crabby but you shouldn’t have taken it out on him. It wasn’t your best moment. 

You took the seat because (a) never had a person made you feel so conflicted about them. Always too quick to judge, within a few moments you could tell whether you liked someone or absolutely didn’t care about them. But with him you honestly couldn’t figure out whether you loathed him or were in absolute awe of his unabashed demeanor (b) you wanted to make absolutely unnecessary amends. 

“What was his name, again?”, stretching and yawning he leaned back in his chair. His shoulders widened to full glory. Lazily, he ran a hand over his chest. Realization hit you like a truck. You were blatantly staring and he’d caught you in the act. Your eyes met his and it made you want to punch that stupid, now very prominent, smirk off of his face. It was time for damage control. Attack, after all, is the best defense.

“Looks like you’re bored. I shall stop”, you said tersely, moving to quickly grab your things.

“It’s 2:45 a.m. Can you blame me?”, he yanked your wallet out of your hand and shoved it in his back pocket, “Continue the story”

“Yahhhhh, give me back my wallet”, you glowered at him.

“Story first”, he sang pulling the wallet out and waving it at you. “Yahhh!”, as you lunged forward, he instinctively drew further back. Frowning, he suddenly ducked under the table.

“What - what happened?”, a quizzical expression clouded your face.

“I’m looking for something”, he mumbled rising gradually. Was that a pout?

“Yah, I can tell. What are you looking for?”

“Your manners. You seem to have suddenly dropped them somewhere”

 You felt your face flame, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi!”

“Please, you can call me oppa”

“I may be older, you know?”

“Your cheeks tell an entirely different story”, he chuckled

Fuming, you untied your hair in a desperate attempt to frame your perfectly round face, “Doh Kyungsoo”, you deadpanned.

“Byun Baekhyun”, confused, he pointed at himself.

“Doh Kyungsoo, my fiance”

“Ah… Sounds as boring as ‘civil lawyer’”

“How did you know?? I don’t remember mentioning -”

“Ha! So he is a civil lawyer! So what do your dates look like? Haunting worn down museums? Marvelling over runes?”, he swayed dreamily, eyelids fluttering.

Your saccharine smile didn’t reach your eyes, “Byun Baekhyun-ssi, what do your dates with your girl look like?”

You were surprised to see a genuine smile grace his face. Albeit unconsciously, you mirrored him. It was warm and luminous, his smile, and you were enchanted.

“Ahem”, the ridiculous smirk came back on, “Dates with my Yoona?”

So, there is a girl. You felt a slight pang of jealousy. You prayed for it to not reflect in your eyes.

“My Yoona?” you gagged dramatically and he responded with an equally dramatic loud sigh.

“Let’s see….long walks by the Han river, a little after sunset.. We walk all the way up to the Namsan Tower. She looks radiant in the moonlight… just my Yoona and me...relaxing...chilling”, he smiled like a heavily infatuated thirteen year old.

“That’s a really long walk. Oppa doesn’t have a driver’s license?”, you chided.

He guffawed, “Guess you and Mr. - ?

“Doh! Mr. Doh of Doh, Gom and Associates!”, 

“Yes, you and Mr. Doh of Doh - Gom - and Associates”, his words slow, deliberate, “wouldn’t recognize romance if it danced naked in front of you. And that platinum band”, he paused, slowly shaking his head.

You drew your hand close to your chest defensively, “What about it?”

“So… a very close friend of mine got engaged recently and I went ring shopping with him. It was an intense drill. But now I know all there is to know about the right cut, hallmark, color, purity, you get the drift. And that”, he took a piteous glance at the ring.

“I could really do without the condescension”

“I’m sorry, but it looks thrift store bought”

“Baekhyun-ssi, your limited experience may have falsely led you into believing that you’re a connoisseur of platinum. But if you care to look past your high-end store shopping spree, you’ll see that this is heirloom”

“Does it have P-950 stamped on it?”

Your glare shut him up and he raised his hands in surrender. Pouting. Again.

You gawked at him in pure admiration. How could a man like that be capable of the most endearing pouts was beyond you.

“Look, I don’t know if you care about Kyungsoo but the flight should’ve landed by now and I don’t want to keep my friend waiting after a red eye flight… so”, he got up to leave and you hurriedly followed suit, “it was an absolute pleasure meeting you”

Your hand met his in a firm handshake which neither of you cared to break for a good thirty seconds. You knew you’d never see this man again and you felt a certain unpleasantness wash over you at the thought. 

His captivating grin made an appearance, accelerating your heartbeat.

You exited the coffee shop first and when you turned around to look for him, he was gone.

***

You greeted Kyungsoo with a punch in the shoulder, “You’re late”

“I tried but they wouldn’t let me into the cockpit”, he said pinching your ear with one hand and twisting your arm with the other.

You successfully managed to wiggle of his strong grasp and attack him with a bear hug, “I’ve missed you”

He softly patted your head before your show of affection started to smother him. Breaking out of your hug he teased, “Tsk, tsk, you’ve grown soft”

“Can you blame me? My best friend moved to a strange city to farm! He’s not been around much to toughen me up” You didn’t care that he hated it. You leaned in to hug him, anyway, “any progress on the land dispute?”

“I’ll be seeing a lawyer for it”, he indulged you by continuing to gently sway you. Apparently, he’d missed you, too.

“Hmm...a civil lawyer”, you contemplated. 

“What’s that?”

“Nothing”, you sighed pulling away from him to call a cab, “When are you seeing this lawyer”

“Right now”

“What? Kyungsoo! It’s 4 in the morning! Can’t this wait?

“No”, he deftly locked your phone, “because he also happens to be a friend of mine and he’s here and he has offered to drive us home”

“He’s here?”

Kyungsoo forced your head to take a 180 degree turn.

You froze at the sight of the blond haired man standing in front of you. Your eyes barely short of pleading, you grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand lacing your fingers with his.

Baekhyun chuckled, “Congratulations, man. I didn’t know you were engaged!”

“Engaged? No, I’m not engaged!” Kyungsoo's voice now a several notches louder.

You were quick to nudge Kyungsoo’s arm with your elbow and snicker softly, “He likes to joke when he’s tired...We’re all tired. Won’t you bring your car now, Baekhyun-ssi?”

“You two know each other?” Nothing made sense to Kyungsoo anymore.

Your feeble No was drowned by Baekhyun’s loud Yes.

“Anyway..”, Kyungsoo introduced you to Baekhyun as his best friend and it made you want to be on the next expedition to Mars. 

“And this is Byun Baekhyun. My elementary school friend”. Baekhyun handed you a business card which you accepted with trembling fingers.

Byun, Park and Associates

Byun Baekhyun

Partner

LL.M.

You were mentally prepared to go on a solo expedition to Neptune and freeze to death.

“We lost touch in high school only to meet again at Jongdae’s engagement party”

Platinum, Baekhyun mouthed when your guilt ridden eyes met his.

“And he has very kindly agreed to help me out with my case”

***

“What- What the hell was that?”, Kyungsoo hissed.

“I don’t know… at first I didn’t want him to think I was available. So I started to spin a web of lies. Then I was curious to see how far I could go, you know, without faltering. Besides, you always keep calling me a bad liar. He was just...in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess…”, you let out a huge yawn.

Kyungsoo flicked your forehead. “Couldn’t you have found someone else to be your guinea pig? It had to be my lawyer? The airport is swarming with people - ”

“AND viruses!”, you adjusted your mask pointedly, “Yet, here I am. For your ungrateful ass!”

“Soo! HELP”, you cried.

“Forget this ever happened. You’re never going to see him again, anyway”, he was dismissive of your plea.

“Soo, but I want to”, you said in a small voice.

Kyungsoo was too dumbfounded to speak. His eyes did all the talking.

“I want to see him again”, you avoided his eyes.

Still, nothing.

“It’s a crisis situation, Soo!”, defeated, your face slumped into his chest, “I think I’m in love with a man who apparently has a girlfriend and most probably thinks that I’m a pathological liar.”

[mlm-writer]

Another One Bites the... Endrega?

Gif source

Pairing: Platonic Geralt of Rivia (Game ver.) x Peter Parker (T.H. ver) Rating: Mature for violence Words: 2590 POV: Third Summary: After losing his parents, Peter makes the journey to Novigrad to live with aunt May and uncle Ben. However, the road is not without dangers. Fortunately, Peter has lady luck on his side. Note: Last of the crossover works! Also that spider got to bite Peter so often. I pulled on uno reverse card on that shit.  Tags: action, fantasy, mentions of death, canon-typical violence, fight scenes, monsters and mild Witcher 3 spoilers of what happens in Novigrad

Branches cracked beneath his feet, as he ran as fast as he could through the forest. The moon illuminated the night, showing him the way through the bed of leaves that covered his vision of the night sky. Peter was unsure if he should scream for help or if that would attract even more of these spider-like creatures that chased him. Lady luck was on his side as he saw light flickering in the distance. A smile spread over his face as he put the last of his energy into getting help. 

Peter screamed for help, when he approached the light. A figure with white hair that reflected the moonlight stood up from near the campfire. Yellow eyes made themselves clear in the dark and Peter knew he was saved. He ran past the man, stopping when he was behind him. The witcher grabbed his silver sword and Peter watched him slay the beasts, though not without struggle. Peter had not looked behind since he last caught a glimpse of one of those things, so only now he realised there were at least a dozen of them and the witcher struggled taking that many all at once. 

The blade swung with finesse through the air, the peeking moonlight reflecting off it, until it got stained with monster blood. One of the spider-like creatures bit the witcher in the leg. He tried to shake it off as his blade slashed through the other monsters. Even Peter could tell that the witcher had to free his leg soon or it was a lost fight. The young boy looked around, trying to find a weapon, but unless he somehow could get a hold of the second sword on the wither’s back, there was none. He had to think quickly. Act quickly. 

Peter lashed out and jumped the monster that had its teeth into the witcher and… gave it a taste of it’s own medicine. It let go as Peter’s teeth struck through a particularly soft patch on their body. It bucked and threw the boy off. Peter coughed, spitting out the blood that had gathered in his mouth. Head started getting fuzzy immediately. He hoped the witcher was alive. It sounded like it, but everything sounded muted, as if there was a wall between him and reality. 

He heaved, the air in his lungs prickling. Vomit covered the ground below him and he coughed, clutching his chest in pain. Strong hands lifted him up and placed him against a tree. “Do not swallow. Just rinse your mouth,” a low muted voice cut its way through his panic. Peter followed the instructions, taking the water offered to him. It did not help. Then suddenly, clarity as if there was a spell casted on him. It still hurt and he still felt like he was dying, but the panic was gone, he could think clearly of what to do next. 

“Listen, I could try to give you something, but it might kill you.” Peter understood. He nodded and reached out for whatever could either save or kill him. The alternative was just dying anyway. It was not hard to tell with the excruciating pain. He took the bottle, hardly looking at the red fluid, before downing it as fast as he could. More coughing. More pain. Then nothing.

---

Geralt sighed as he watched over the young man. Were it not for the boy’s foolish actions, he would have died today. The boy was sweating, his brown hair sticking to his forehead, but his face looked pale enough for him to be dead. The witcher threw another stick into the fire, trying to keep the boy that saved his life warm. At least he was not dying of hypothermia. 

The fact that the stranger was not screaming from pain was a good sign, but that did not mean he would make it through the night. Night turned to day and Geralt awoke to the sound of a coughing fit. He helped the boy sit up and handed him some water. Once the boy was no longer coughing, their eyes locked. “Thank you, master witcher,” the boy spoke hoarsely. 

“You are lucky to be alive. Biting an Endrega was really stupid.” The boy nodded and sat up, arms shaking. “You are also lucky to survive ingesting a witcher potion. I think you might even pull through this, kid.” He nodded again, understanding his situation. A small smile spread over his lips when he got the news he was probably going to survive. “What’s your name?” 

The boy looked at him with a hazy gaze. He seemed to think very hard, before he could answer. “Peter,” he ended up saying, “sorry, my head is all fuzzy.” Geralt placed a hand on Peter’s head. It felt really hot. 

“You’re running a fever. Your body is still burning through all the toxins. Where are your parents?” The boy looked down. Right. The war. Another orphan then. 

“They died. I’m heading to my aunt in uh…” He paused, thinking again. “Novigrad.” Geralt huffed. This boy was probably lady luck’s own bloody son. 

“That’s where I’m headed. I’ll drop you off at a healer there.” The boy thanked him over and over until he got caught in a coughing fit again. “Don’t mention it. I drop you off and we do not owe each other anything.” Peter nodded, finally shutting up. 

The journey to Novigrad was a long one. Peter was weak, only getting a little better each day. He had to rest a lot, but he was good company. Geralt could see he was the type to chat his ears off, but speaking brought Peter into a coughing fit, so words were rare. Geralt learned Peter’s parents died in the Battle of White Orchard. Peter was also good with horses or at least with Roach. There was nothing out of the ordinary with the farmer’s boy, but there was something special about him too. 

Peter tried to offer his mother’s ring as payment for the escort, but Geralt did not accept. By the time they closed in on the gates of Novigrad, Peter seemed to be doing well enough to get home on his own. He insisted he finished the journey on his own two legs and Geralt had business to tend to, so their ways parted at the gates. After finding Dandelion, he thought he was done in Novigrad. After all, Ciri was not there, but Geralt’s path was bound to converge with Peter’s once more. 

Geralt needed coin for the journey to Skellige. There was a contract on a ‘giant, humanoid, red spider’. It apparently attacked some people. It was a menace to track down. Tracks ended on walls that even Geralt could not climb. There was no distinctive scent either. He followed the trail of thick, abnormally strong spiderwebs to a house near Oxenfurt Gate in the Bits. Downstairs was a workshop that looked untouched for a couple of weeks. Spiderwebs spooked in the corners, but none matched what he found on the buildings in other parts of the Bits. 

“Anybody home?” He called out. Feet rushed over the first floor and headed to the stairs. Geralt watched as someone came down the stairs, skinny but muscular legs, followed by a lean body and then… a very familiar face. 

“Geralt!” Peter exclaimed joyfully. In a flash Geralt found himself being hugged tightly by the boy. He froze, unsure what to do. “It is great to see you! Look!” Peter stepped back and did a little dance. “I’m all good and healthy!” The boy paused, then frowned. “Wait, what are you doing here?” 

The witcher looked around, eyes scanning over the workshop that looked abandoned. “What happened to this workshop?” Peter’s smile disappeared. He cleared his throat and looked down. 

“Uncle Ben died. It was his. I uh… meant to pick up his work, but… it’s just hard to touch his stuff.” Geralt answered with a grunt and a nod. He stepped around, careful to not touch anything. “You need anything? I can make stuff as well. Combs, mirrors, machinery components, you name it. I’ll make anything for you at half the price…”

“I’m looking for the red spider man that has been attacking people ‘round here.” Geralt was right. Peter really could talk a lot. Dandelion would love him. Peter grew awfully quiet. Geralt could hear his heart pounding rapidly. When he looked at the boy, there was no eye-contact. “Peter, if you know anything, you need to tell me. This thing could attack you too.” 

Peter finally looked up, shaking his head. “No! It is not like that! I mean…” He moved around restlessly. “Spiderman saved me! He does that a lot! He attacks bandits and other bad people. He would not harm me.” Lies. Geralt could tell, but he wondered why Peter would lie about it. 

“This spider man attacked some commoners.” “Maybe those commoners were attacking someone else.”

Geralt raised a brow. That was a really quick answer. “Peter, I am not asking again. What do you know?” Peter seemed to get smaller under his threatening gaze. He mumbled something that even Geralt could not hear. “Speak up.” Peter took a deep breath, before speaking in a small voice. 

“I’ll lead you to Spiderman. Meet me at midnight behind the city walls, between Oxenfurt and South Gate.” “Just tell me where he is. No need to bring you into danger as well.’ “Like I said, master witcher, sir, Spiderman will not harm me or any other innocent person.” “You don’t know that.” “But I do and you will too, tonight.” 

The boy fidgeted in place. He offered the witcher a cup of tea. Geralt refused and left. He had some other matters to attend to, before leaving for Skellige. It was raining that night. The moon was hardly visible, only a thin crescent hung in the sky, leaving that night’s illumination to the flickering fires from the city. Geralt’s witcher senses were triggered when he heard something behind him. Down from the wall came a figure clad in red with a mask that reminded him of one that Dandelion wore during his scheme with Sophronia. Geralt reached for his silver sword, but stopped when the figure stood before him. Even at a distance, Geralt could recognise the faint scent of that neglected workshop. His first thought was that Peter got eliminated, before he could meet Geralt, but as the spider man stood before him, he noticed a similar build, a similar height, a similar way of cowering before the witcher. “Peter?”

The figure reached for his mask and indeed, as the leather came off, there was the scared, but unnecessarily brave boy from the forest. “Hello, Geralt, sir,” the boy almost whispered. Geralt lowered his arm, sighing. “How did you climb that wall?” 

Peter smiled a little and walked back to the wall. “You see, some things changed after I bit that spider thing…” “Endrega.” “That! I think it interacted with that potion you gave me.” “Gotta note that down…”

“And now I can do this!”

Peter jumped and scaled the wall while sticking to it like… a spider. Geralt stared at him, unsure of how to react. He nearly got a heart attack when Peter jumped off the wall when he was near the top. He rushed to catch the fool, but from the boy’s wrist came something that stuck to the wall and Peter hung from it, upside down, right in front of Geralt’s face. “I can also shoot webs like a spider,” the boy proudly announced. Geralt sighed, rubbing his temple. 

“Peter, did you attack people?” The boy came down and nodded shamefully. 

“Yes, but I only attacked bandits and some whoresons that were harassing elves! Please, Geralt, you must believe me… sir.” Geralt could tell he was honest. It was not about believing him or not. 

“You need to stop. You might get hurt. The witch hunters might even want to put you on the pyre.” “Let them try.” 

Geralt raised a brow. Peter stood before him, clad in red like a junior Dandelion and arms crossed like a child. He was a child, a ridiculously stupid child. “What you’re doing is dangerous and you need to stop. You don’t know what these… powers are. You’re healthy now, but you might not be for long.”

“And what about you?” Geralt raised a brow at the boy again as he walked closer. “You go around helping people with your special powers, why can’t I?” “I am trained to do this.” “Then train me.”

Geralt let out a sigh of resignation. He wanted to send Peter to Kaer Morhen, but he didn’t trust him to get there alive or even find the way. “No.” Geralt tried to walk away, but quicker than he ever saw any normal human move, Peter was in front of him, blocking the way. 

“What if I can take you on in a fight. Not win, of course, but I bet I can stand against you for a minute.” “You have gone from foolish to just arrogant.” “Give me a chance! I can do more than climb walls and swing from a web… please?” 

“Fine, if you survive a minute, I’ll train you, but, if I floor you within that minute, you get rid of the stupid costume and never attack anyone again, bandit or otherwise.” “Deal.” 

---

Peter was afraid he might have overestimated his abilities, but all he had to do was not be floored. Fortunately they agreed to no weapons. “Time goes in now,” Geralt announced and Peter expected him to pounce right away, but it seemed the witcher was waiting as well. Peter stayed alert, his new, sharp senses noticing how slow Geralt’s heartbeat was in contrast to his own, pounding his chest like it was trying to get out. 

Then finally, Geralt lunged forwards and Peter barely dodged him. He rolled over the floor and got back up with great finesse. Yellow eyes narrowed and scanned his body like it was determining the price of a horse. Peter swallowed a lump in his throat, before dodging again. For now, that was all he was doing. He knew better than to try something funny or to hope for Geralt to get exhausted. With one close call, Peter found himself behind Geralt. He took the chance to give a quick, albeit not hard, kick against the witcher’s back, before dashing backwards. They had drawn a circle on the ground, he barely stayed in it. 

It ended up being the only strike Peter would give. Geralt was simply not as fast as Peter and while Peter had taken a pretty good blow to the head, he was still standing after a minute. When the time was up, a sigh left the white-haired male. “Fine, but you will have to come with me to Skellige. I still need to find Ciri.” 

Peter let out the air he held in his lungs and collapsed on the ground, tired from dodging like his life had depended on it. “Your daughter, right? I’ll… have to leave aunt May for a while, but I’ll be back, right?” Geralt gave him a look that said ‘yeah, sure, maybe’ and Peter found it rather ominous, but he also trusted the man enough to keep him alive. “I’ve never been to Skellige. What is it like?”

Geralt did not spare him a look as he put his equipment back on. “Cold. We leave tomorrow at noon.”

[dreamofragtime]

I think S5e02 “Sorrow songs” is definitely one of my favourite episodes ever! This episode gives soooo much! There would be so many things to say about it, I could write / talk for days...but don’t worry I won’t 😂

First of all, this has been a very difficult week for me (and my family) and this episode was like a balm for my soul. I’d like to start with a couple of thoughts about the case (I know I rarely do, not because I don’t find them interesting, on the contrary I like mysteries and intrigue, but simply because on. my ramblings here usually I’m more focused on Jean and Lucien...am I to blame for that?😉) I don’t know if it is because of the emotional state I’ve been in, or because being a daughter, a mother and a wife myself...but I found it so very moving and poignant. I was so sad for that poor husband and little boy...and everything happened for a stupid misunderstanding, a lack of communication and Elizabeth’s assumptions that if her husband wasn’t willing to try for another baby, that surely meant he was having an affair. That made me think, honestly, about how easy it can be to misjudge even those we fancy ourselves to know better than anyone else...it’s so true, sometimes.

Well, that’s enough with the sadness! I think it’s best if we proceed with our lovebirds, shall we?😊

The first thing I noticed was that Lucien’s hair was still perfectly in place when he appears in scene to answer the phone and Jean comes down almost immediately (also no more hair net for her and I forgot to say I love her hair and selection of clothes in these first 2 episodes of season 5)....those two were up late 😄 I know it!

Second and that was a huge surprise PATRICK SHIPS IT!!!! I mean...first he sees Jean’s wearing a ring when she brings the tea tray and, well being the smartest person in the room she notices (obviously Lucien doesn’t...men!) and she flees the room to take it off. I felt bad for her because she was uncomfortable and embarrassed and she’s been through so much already, she doesn’t need to feel as if she’s doing something “wrong”...not about this. And then Patrick hinting not very subtly at people you’ve known all your life having secrets but of course Lucien still doesn’t get it. The next scene between Patrick and Jean actually made me cry, for what he says...because it reminded me of something someone told me a very long time ago!

Now I have a question for you, do they reveal why Jean is not wearing Genevieve’s ring? Or did I miss anything?

Then what do we have? Ahh yesssss....we have the scene I’ve seen hundreds of gifs about but never knew anything about!

I must confess I rewatched it 3 or 4 times because it was so glorious...what a kiss!!! Everything is perfect! Lucien entering the kitchen and Jean making hot cocoa (that was so sweet and homey) and he who is obviously interested in something else entirely than the cocoa, despite her robe. She responds passionately to the kiss, too but I get it...the Catholic sense of sin and guilt is there...she pushes him away (those hands tho...) even if you ask me she seems happy.He asks her to join him for something stronger perhaps (really Lucien what were you thinking? 😄) and Lucien’s face “now I really ruined my chance” is worth one million pounds. What happens next was another big surprise, I thought we had been gifted enough with the kiss, but noooo...Jean in her room looking at her reflection in the mirror. I found this another very emotional moment. It’s obvious she’s asking herself so many questions, after what’s just transpired between the two of them in the kitchen. When the time comes would Lucien find her attractive? It’s obviously been a long time since she’s been with a man and they’ve been dancing around each other for so long, and they’ve waited for so long to be together, will she be confident enough to show him how much she loves him with everything that she has, with everything that she is? And what about him? How will their first night together be? But then she takes all the strength she has and she goes for it! She takes the (probably new) white night dress from the drawer and she wears it, she even put make up on her face...I found it so sweet and Jean so very determined it really brought tears to my eyes...she’s such a wonderful woman! But then Rose sees her and she smiles because she’s understood everything and she doesn’t judge her, on the contrary I think Rose is happy for them but it’s too late and Jean loses her nerve and probably even thinks that was some sign from God, that they should wait until they’re married and the next morning she goes into confession...and I’m not even disappointed because she was so in character here.

The day after, when they are interrogating Tomas he says something about his relationship with Nadia...that he would have waited for her to be ready, that he would have never hurt her, well that really could easily apply to what happened the night before with Lucien and Jean. He respects her and he doesn’t push her if she doesn’t want!

The pine bark scene was probably the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen and Lucien asking Jean if it works for the menopause and she just arches her eyebrows 😂😂😂 and when he drinks it...well Jean lock your door very tight tonight because if it has an effect on Lucien you should definitely be worried 🤣🤣🤣

And here we are...last scene. Another wonderful gift (I don’t know if I should be worried because it’s too much happiness in one go 🤞🏻) Lucien being a lovesick puppy with those big shiny eyes looking at her because she’s the most wonderful woman in the entire universe and he also recites old Romani songs (stop being so cute please) and our amazing Jean telling him she’s glad he has the amulet to look after him when they are not together 😭 and can we talk about the candlelight dance? Is there anything more romantic than the way he takes her hand, the way he holds her, the way they look at one another and that slow swaying together?

[musicallisto]

🌒 Once Upon A Dream (Nik Ryder x F!MC)

what do you mean this is a dead book among the fandom? haha jokes on you, I'll keep posting about nightbound and endless summer until I DIE. here’s me being a disney & choices stan as well as a softie in the same post 😔

word count: 1.6k words

summary: In which Nik Ryder can't quite see nor sense the magic of the fae, but he can sure as hell enjoy how peaceful it makes him.

soundtrack: ♬ ; ♬

gif credit: @ pvscvls

NIK DIDN’T MIND waiting in the clearing anymore.

Sure, the first days, he'd had a hard time refraining his curiosity, and squinted his eyes like a child as if that could make him distinguish some otherworldly light; but after a few months of accompanying Louise every week to the Fae Realm, he'd found his interest wasn't as ardent as it once was. Besides, he'd been to the Fae Colony once and his memories of the place were all but pleasant - setting aside the murderous betrayal and terrifying pain-in-the-ass of a Bloodwraith to fight, it all had a certain charm confined in all too vibrant colors, smells, and noises, nauseous to his frail human condition.

No, for the time being, he was more than satisfied with juggling with his knives and vials, alone and still in the comforting silence of the forest - all the more so because Louise, somewhere undecipherable, was enjoying herself.

It was always the most important part of his day, the only worry that clawed at its heart even in the tranquility of a still forest; whether or not Louise was happy, content, and safe. He had never thought himself to be the selfless type - rather he'd been used to only looking after himself for countless years, benumbed by his work and pride to the solitude it had brought him. Yet as soon as he had been tasked with protecting Louise, his walls had come crumbling down one by one until all that surrounded his heart was her and only her. Suddenly he was restless when she was away; deaf when she wasn't talking; forlorn when her eyes weren't singing. What he had mistaken for another weakness to get rid of as soon as possible was a strength, his greatest; and he'd be damned if he let it go to waste. Though judging by the wide smiles she wore when she was with him, even after one year, he wasn't doing too bad a job of it.

Something unfathomable had always lingered in the woods of the Fae colony, but he tasted the sugar of another world on his tongue, like fruit he had never tried, even more now that he waited alone. His lungs filled with this tingling air and the murmurs of the forest, more relaxed with each breath. Really, he could get why Louise insisted on coming each week, and he hadn't even seen the best part.

A slight rustle in the leaves usually announced Louise's return. Nik could feel it carnally, a wave of warm, calming pleasure washing over his chest, and it wasn't as stupid as he once might've thought it. After all, magic was real. He'd put his hand in the fire that Louise worked a little bit of her Fae magic on the strings of his heart each time he saw her.

When the familiar swish in the air came, Nik stuffed his vials in his bag and his throwing knife in his thigh holster; he raised his head just in time to see the colorful lights emerge out of nowhere, twinkle for a few seconds above the ground, then buzz and cackle with a shiny white flash, gone in an instant. In its place stood a blissful and disheveled Louise.

She almost tripped over her own two feet, but she always did when she came back to the human world, so Nik had already stepped forward to steady her. Her heart was a galloping horse under his palms.

“Easy, easy. You're back.”

His voice, low and deep, rumbled like a strong and safe current on her skin. His chest held enough breath for the both of them; still breathless, she chuckled.

“You're getting used to it by now...”

“Used, but not tired. What did you do this time?”

She took a step back. As always when she talked about the Fae world, her real world, her eyes sparkled, and Nik couldn't help smiling before she'd even spoken.

“It was so cool- Thalissa called down the dragons, and one of them descended! It's super rare, and it was the first time I've been this close to one, and- the magic, Nik, it's like it's spilling over my fingers- I wish you could be there to see it all with me!”

“I wish too, but that's not gonna happen anytime soon, darlin'.”

When she was giddy like that, talking of dragons and spells and vibrant markets and spire towers, Nik forgot about Rookie, about the concern and the money and the monsters. All his heart knew was how he loved her. Oh, how he did. Like a lullaby and a call to arms, all at once.

“They played music in the great hall, this time,” she reminisced with a dreamy smile.

“What, fairy opera?”

In normal circumstances, she would've rolled her eyes, but the return from the Fae Realm never was a normal circumstance, so she just chuckled.

“No, it's... I don't know how to describe it. Don't you hear it?”

“Hear what? Music?”

She had perked her head up suddenly, quite reminiscent of the huntress she was usually; but the euphoric high that still inhabited her features told she was enthralled, and not intrigued. Still, as hard as Nik concentrated on his surroundings, all he could distinguish was the intermittent buzzing of insects.

“Hate it to break it to you, but this is just normal forest noise...”

“Shh, Nik. Listen.”

He listened. He truly did. He stopped. Louise often chastised him for looking straight ahead at all times; for keeping his blinder on, she said. So much of the world passed him by without a glance from him. The world was ugly and he saw it well enough, he would retaliate, but she'd retort that it was precisely because he moved so fast that all the shapes and colors appeared deformed, monstrous to him. So he tried to pay attention to the songs of the rivers and the lumps of the wood under his fingertips, but he wasn't half-Fae like she was. He would always see but a fraction of her world, so radiant and gripping like a quivering heart in her palm. In her world, there was still hope for him to be gentle and kind like her...

He listened. But he heard nothing.

He was never disappointed, though. Some of these bright waves still reached him through Louise if he was attentive enough.

“It's beautiful...”

Like in a dream, she started to hum, and for the first time, Nik thought he heard the voices of the Fae, fluttering all together in his girlfriend's throat and the air surrounding her. She then turned to face Nik and put a hand on his arm, the other on his shoulder. She had opened her eyes, hazy but tender gray. The notes flowed effortlessly between the two of them; Nik wasn't sure if it was still Louise singing.

“Dance with me, Nik.”

“Woah, Rook, you know I don't dance, Fae orchestra or not,” he stepped back.

It wasn't distaste from Nik, but rather his jokester and detached self trying to make sense of what he couldn't understand. Exactly like how he had first deflected his feelings for Louise.

But when she draped a hand over his arm, carefully as not to deter him, with a million stars shrouding her beautiful face, a ravishing peace washed over Nik’s entire body and soul. Maybe it was the Fae, maybe it was the forest, maybe it was her. Suddenly he was placid and surrounded by ethereal harmonies.

“Just this once?”

A little fairy laughed in his chest, settled in his smile. Slowly, he took her hand in his and raised it between the two of them, eyeing her with care.

“Alright. Just this once.”

Louise beamed in front of him, and a halo of white light gleamed around her head as if she were crowned by the fading day. His hand rested on the hollow of her waist, and hers on his relaxed shoulder, without question, without doubt, as if they had practiced the dance a hundred times before. Still humming her otherworldly song, Louise led him in tentative waltz steps, and he followed. They were artists of a kind, fighting monsters and dodging bullets with ease and grace. Surely a waltz in the middle of the woods would be no different.

Their movements picked up speed and breadth. From the corner of his eye, Nik distinguished small flowers along the path they were taking; but all his concentration remained on Louise’s face, her dreamy smile and closed eyes. Between his arms, she radiated a glow that bounced on everything around her, from the littlest leaf to his pounding heart, and a serene tingle twittered in his chest. She was the only heaven he'd ever know; and he was certain that what would ring in his ears long after his death would be the echo of her voice and that of the forest.

“I bet I’m the first person who convinced you to dance,” she murmured, opening her eyes to meet his.

Only they, the trees, and the clouds were breathing in the world, and all was still and quiet. Safe in the immense silence, Nik murmured back.

“You’re the first to all my first times, Louise.”

They twirled together in the clearing and under the open arms of the trees until the moon was high in the sky. When its silver shadow fell on the world, one could still see, reflected on its surface, two silhouettes locked in an everlasting embrace; and one could swear their feet weren’t touching the ground.

[ineffablecolors]

The Wife [24/24]

The Wife || Ch 24 ~ 8.8k || Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10 Ch11 C12 Ch13 Ch14 Ch15 Ch16 Ch17 Ch18 Ch19 Ch20 Ch21 Ch22 Ch23 || FF.NET & AO3

Summary: No one knows all that Emma has been through and certainly no one knows all that Killian has been through and being husband and wife doesn’t make them any less unknown to each other. And really, how can you help someone heal when you don’t even know how hurt they are?

A/N: First, forgive me. This is half a year late but life is unpredictable sometimes and the muse - always. This last chapter is the longest of this fic and I sincerely hope it makes up for the long wait. For a moment there, I didn’t think I would be able to finish this in a way that satisfied me but I’m actually quite pleased with what you are about to read. I hope you will be too. Second, thank you. This fic has proven to be my best experience in this fandom. Thank you for all the excitement, for the gifts and for the gifs, for the long reviews and for the “loved it” reviews, for the kudos and for the likes, for the messages and for all the little jokes. I never would’ve written this without you guys. This isn’t mine, this is ours. Thank you for the love!

The silver platter hits the table with a clatter – all empty cups and plates, she didn’t know the girl could eat this much even if she forced herself, which Mrs Lucas suspects she has.

“Well?”

“’Well’, well, he says. You couldn’t have picked one that isn’t stubborn as a mule, could you?”

“If we are being precise, Liam—”

“Oh, we’re being ever so precise! So precise she won’t let her toe graze the carpet.”

Killian frowns deeply and Mrs Lucas feels her shoulders slump even before she has decided to give up being vexed with him and his lady wife.

Truth be told, Mrs Lucas was plenty relieved at first. She has seen her fair share of foolish women frequenting dances and even riding while with child. Mrs Jones deciding to remain at home looked like a blessing alright, before it became clear that the girl had decided to order herself on bedrest before one could even properly tell there was a babe growing inside her.

That was almost two weeks ago and it seems to Mrs Lucas that they have tried every trick for luring her outside. All save for the direct one.

“It seems to me that it is her husband who must talk to her.”

Killian gives her a look that is part disgruntled old man, part petulant little boy and the way his mouth works tells her he is resisting the urge to argue semantics and point out that he walks to his wife every day. Just not about what needs talking about.

///

He opens their bedroom door a couple of hours after talking to Granny, after letting Roger take him as fast as he was willing to go. He’d decided even before saddling the beast but the acute absence of Buttercup beside him or Emma pressed warm and soft again his back certainly solidified his courage.

The sun is starting to itch down and Emma’s fingers look like spun gold as they smudge the pencil lines on the sheet before her. Her ring doesn’t seem to reflect the light but rather absorb it into itself and it makes something possessive and very satisfied purr in his chest.

He sits on the edge of the bed and dives his hand under the blanket, searchingly blindly until he finds her ankle and curls his fingers around it – they close perfectly, the tips of his thumb and middle finger touching over the smooth hardness of her malleolus. He studied all the known bones in the human body in a fit of morbidness and cynical humour when he first lost his hand but the memory that comes to mind is one made in this very room, much too late into the night, and saturated with Emma’s almost constant giggles and sharp bursts of laughter as he recited all the names of her bones in the most tactile manner possible.

Now he circles the bone under his thumb and waits for her to finish drawing and look at him, not allowing himself to peak at her work, knowing she hates anyone seeing her sketches all the way until she grows either bored or pleased with them and abandons them on a windowsill. Her work was always good but he thinks it has been growing progressively better and he is having more and more difficulty holding his tongue about it until the right time.

Eventually, unhurriedly – he is both exasperated and incredibly pleased in her confidence that he will wait at the foot of the bed as long as it takes to receive her attention – she sets the sheet on the little bureau beside the bed – face down, pencil on top – and lifts her eyes to his. In the afternoon light, her eyes are golden too and this becomes one of those moments that make him very aware of how very beautiful his wife is.

He stands up and inclines his head toward the bath he sent Ruby to prepare before he came up.

“Trust me?”

It is not the layered question it might have been a year ago. It is mostly just that – I have only one hand and I want to lift you in my arms, will you trust me to do so? He doesn’t know if that is indeed what she hears, the way her eyelashes flutter, the way her mouth softens, but then she lifts her arms toward him – so innocent and child-like and trusting that Killian feels the space where his heart lies burning.

The flames in the fireplace reflect along the length of the white bathtub. There’s something different in the air, something tart and speaking of citruses because Emma doesn’t seem to like her old perfumes and soaps these days, because Ruby knows all and is – always, miraculously – prepared for it.

Killian’s arms are hard and firm as iron around his wife and yet, his step falters imperceptibly when her fingers first tangle in the ends of his hair. It’s hypnotic, euphoric. Her thumb glides over the muscles of his neck, pressing at intervals – curious and bold, as her fingers move ever so lightly through the grey strands. His hair has grown longer than is proper in the last month, he has taken advantage, delight even, in getting completely off the merry-go-round of society.

She is warm in his arms and slightly heavier – almost unnoticeable unless you are looking for that last confirmation the way he is, he stops half a pace from the tub and drops to one knee, lowering her ever so slowly into the water. She ripples all over at the first touch and he hides his grin in her hair.

“Oh, you are something else.”

He hums, inhales her before he pulls back to look in those molten eyes.

“All I am is yours, my queen.” His voice is the embodiment of reverence and supplication but the look in his eyes must betray his baser thoughts so he keeps them firmly on hers.

Her cheeks flush quickly, the warm bath and the blatant flirtation attacking in tandem, she lifts her shoulders slightly and gathers breath to pay him in kind. But he knows her ever so well, well enough to steal it again, ducking his head in the exact moment when the tops of her breasts peak out of the water and pressing his mouth to the soft skin.

It’s tempting beyond belief to touch and tease and enjoy her like this but he did in fact intend to help her with her bath and the ends of her hair are already growing heavier and darker. He rolls his left sleeve and watches her leave wet spots all over as she does for his right. He grabs a comb and shuffles behind her, pressing his body against the cool surface of the tub for relief, to keep his mind somewhat clear and starts working his way down her tresses.

“Emma.” He lays a curling strand over her shoulder and runs his knuckles over the long expanse of her throat – up and back to the nape of her neck, gathering another section of hair. “I’ve pondered— that is��� I believe… love, I believe everything is going to be well.”

The air is still for a moment, the only sound the crackling from the fireplace. Then there’s a slight tug as she nods. Confirmation because of decisiveness rather than belief, he thinks.

“What I mean to say is that I want you to stop worrying.”

“I’m not worr—”

“You haven’t left this room in days.”

“My being careful does not mean I am worrying, thank you ever so.”

“Emma.”

“It does not.”

He presses his lips together and continues working the comb’s teeth between the strands of her hair. He itches all over to snuff out the tension in the citrus-scented air, to smooth his hand over her shoulder and embrace her and tell her that she is right. Alas, she isn’t always. His brother would laugh to death at him but Killian wants his wife to always be right, it makes him feel like he is losing his footing when she isn’t.

Emma’s sigh is deep, nettled but almost accepting now.

“Perhaps…,” her voice is small but she tips her head back on the edge of the tub and he can almost see her eyes. “Perhaps I’m a little scared.”

“That makes you a good deal less scared than me, love.”

She snorts – mellow and undignified and private and he drops the comb and slips his arm around her, resting his palm and forearm over her sternum and his cheek on her neck, wet hair sliding against skin.

“It’s going to be my fault if—” she starts.

“Nonsense. That is nonsense and you know it.”

“It is not. You don’t know. I feel… It feels like in all the world only I can protect this little thing that needs so much protecting.”

“Aye, I don’t know. What I do know is that you are the best protector anyone can ask for. And what you seem to forget is that… this time, this world, our world would do everything to protect you both.”

She is silent long enough that he picks up the comb again but when he takes a section of hair she hums and turns her face to the side, her lips pressing against the inside of his wrist.

///

She knows Killian means well, what is more, she suspects he might be right. But the thing is that Killian has already done this, he already is a wonderful father, he has already raised a beautiful, healthy and happy daughter. Killian could never muck this up. She just needs to be certain that she won’t either.

As with most things, Killian Jones changes her mindset and she has to give him extra credit for not even being present when doing it. It’s just that it does get insufferably boring to stay in one’s bed all day long, no matter how tall the pile of books by said bed and no matter how many different sunrises she draws. The house is still much too quiet without the girls there and somehow she manages to miss her husband any moment he is not being doting and overbearing. So, this is how Emma finds herself throwing off the thin blanket laid over her legs, wrapping herself in a shawl and tiptoeing out of her room.

“I did not know that I was married to a thief.”

Killian’s head comes up lightning fast, his neck pops audibly and his eyes widen in surprise and crinkle with joy as he finds her with a hip against his doorway. It takes him a moment and then another but Emma waits patiently for his mouth to quirk up and for him to lean back in his chair and meet her challenge.

“I’ve been called many a thing, my queen, but this is the first I’m hearing of my being a thief.”

“Everybody gets caught eventually, my heart, and you most certainly did not pay for that,” she says and nods toward the framed drawing hanging above his head.

Truly, it’s ostentatious and a little bit ridiculous to have it handing there. The sketch is good enough, if she does say so herself, but it’s old and messy and clearly abandoned much sooner than it would have been decent enough to display anywhere, let alone in a such a place of pride. It is far from the best rendition of this particular subject that she has been drawing ever since he told her.

“Oh, this?” Killian leans his head back so he can see the drawing and Emma can see the long expanse of his throat. “Why, Mrs Jones, I found this masterpiece just lying about on my property. I must say I’m rather in love with the style but for the life of me cannot seem to track down the artist.”

Emma shakes her head and moves further into the room, Killian pushes away from his desk and turns to face her as she circles his desk. She does so love every surface in this study.

“In love, are you?” she asks coyly even as she straddles his lap shamelessly.

“Hopelessly,” her dramatic husband says as both his real and wooden hand find her hips with studied accuracy and he rests his chin just below her belly, pressing a soft, absentminded kiss there that makes it flutter the way her eyelashes do. “Thank you for giving me my island, Emma.”

///

Alice and Robyn are back within a week of the three letters Emma and Killian pen, sharing the newest development in their life with their closest friends and family.

“Have you chosen a name for her yet?”

“Why are you so certain it should be a girl?” Emma asks, even though she is quite certain herself and delighted and anxious and impatient and many other feelings that she keeps stored beside her and Killian’s bed to unfold and examine only when it’s late and cloudy and just the two of them. The name of their child has yet to see the clouds of such a day.

“Oh, it is simply papa’s fate to be surrounded by ladies,” Alice answers as she winds another layer of wool around Robyn’s patiently extended forearms. Everyone but Alice is convinced that she has no idea what she is doing, mostly because she hasn’t even decided what it is she wants to make, but she and Robyn have been kneeling before the hearth and untangling Granny’s balls of wool long enough that now something simply must be done with it.

“Ladies?” Killian looks up from his papers and pulls his glasses a little down his nose, making a show of carefully surveying his surroundings. “Why, I cannot remember the last time I saw one.”

Emma gasps in a way worthy of her husband’s own theatrics even as Alice takes hold of one of the balls of wool and throws it like a true markswoman straight at her father’s head, dislodging the poor spectacles further, while Robyn agrees mournfully that she herself has forgotten what such a thing as a lady even looks like.

Emma couldn’t be happier to have them back.

///

One thing Emma never expected from her older and storm-wrought husband the first time she met him was to ever see the child that he surely must have been, the playfulness and innocence of youth. Emma remembers that assumption wobbling unsteadily the first time she saw Killian sitting on the floor and then a little more every time she watched him enjoy his cocoa a frankly undignified amount. She thinks this is the moment when the last rock of what’s left of that assumption topples, as she watches Killian lying on his stomach between her generously spread legs, head tilted to the side and tongue and teeth working over his bottom lip as he measures her breasts with his good hand with all the dedication a physician might apply to his life-saving research.

“Killian, they have not changed.”

Killian ignored her for a moment, then looks up with all the disappointment in the world gathered in his blue eyes. She suspects he positions the candles in their bedroom just so to give him the utmost dramatic flair when he himself is positioned just so between her legs.

“It is an outrage and a travesty how little attention you have paid to your own lovely form.”

“If I did, neither of us would get anything done, my heart.”

Killian’s grin is unrepentant, triumphant even.

“Precisely so, love. Thus, I am the expert on matters such as these and can assure you that differences are present, have been noted and must be properly appreciated.”

Even as she shakes her head, Emma arches her back a little off the mountain of pillows behind her, pushing her chest toward the warm radiating off of Killian. He obliges her with hand, stump and mouth and difference or not, Emma delights in being properly appreciated.

It is perhaps why the question catches her unawares later, somewhere in that state between the clearest pleasure and the deepest comfort, as she melts against Killian’s body and traces her nose along the edges of a long scar on his side – rhythmic and hypnotic and gradually putting herself to sleep.

“Have you given it any thought?”

The hum she lets him have is more than she thought herself capable of giving right now. It makes him chuckle, a hint of smugness in it that would make her roll her eyes if he had not earned it so thoroughly.

“A name. For our lass, according to all of you.”

“Oh.”

She follows that scar until her nose is buried between Killian’s hot skin and their silken sheets. Killian twitches a little and his hand tangles in her hair.

“I have no good ideas,” she mumbles somewhere under him and tilts her face so it’s now her mouth that brushes the raised skin, her tongue flicking out to taste the uneven texture. Killian groans above her and his hold tightens.

“Perhaps,” he swallows and gasps, delightfully out of control now as she digs further, following the routes on his skin and butting her head under him even as her hand slips between his legs. “Perrrhaps you could be… so good… oh, Emma, so good.”

“Mhm?”

“So… so good as to share them anyway?”

She takes her sweet time about it and he does not seem to mind terribly, not if the way he twists toward her and ruts against her is any indication. But, eventually, after she has been satisfied with his satisfaction, she comes out from under the tangle of sheets and blankets and Killian and combs the hair out of her eyes.

“I like nothing so well as to share,” she says, honest but almost petulant. “Evelyn. It’s the only one I like but not enough.”

It’s the first name spoken between them and it doesn’t fit quite the way she wants it to. Killian hums and mentions some he has considered and discarded himself.

“Mary Margaret says there is this new fashion to choose something meaningful. She and David wanted something brave. Strong.”

Killian props his chin on his left forearm and gives her a soft look, the kind that negates the need for her to ask for anything, the kind that says she just has to name it and it shall be. It always makes her feel terribly flustered, overwhelmed and rather powerful too. She wonders if that’s how queens feel at first.

“What do you want for her?”

Her lips twitch as his steady conversion, his blind trust in her equally blind belief that they are to have a girl.

“I just wanted her. And you gave her to me.”

Killian laughs, it delights her. “Rather the other way around. But after, what do you want after?”

She is still afraid to think too much about after, as if she will ruin it, if she imagines it too much. “I don’t… I just hope she is happy. I hope she is healthy and happy to be here.” She laughs, it sounds wet. “I hope she loves me.”

Killian’s eyes widen and he opens his mouth but she rushes ahead, can’t stop imagining now and it feels safer to do so here, with him.

“I hope I get to teach her to ride and Alice teaches her to shoot a bow and arrow and you teach her to read and, lord, I hope Ruby can teach her to dance because none of us will do it properly.”

She looks at Killian’s eyes and can’t tell if she loves the colour or the dark lashes or the lines around them more.

“I hope she falls in love. I… I hope…”

Killian’s eyes sparkle and the lines grow deeper.

///

Next come Liam and Elsa with all the fanfare and gifts that befits Admiral and Mrs Jones.

“She is not even born yet,” Killian grumbles even as he admires the toy horse his brother has deposited in the middle of their drawing room, on top of the table – much to Granny’s dismay and more genuine grumbling – like it’s the queen’s jewels.

“She?”

Killian’s face scrunches up and he waves a hand in the air.

“The girls have gotten into my head.”

“Then God help you when you get yet another one,” Liam grins smugly.

///

“You never asked.”

“Hmm?” Emma tears her head away from the target practice going on a few feet away from them. It’s not easy. There is something delightful about two young girls in billowing skirts embarrassing a naval admiral and captain and pushing them to the sort of language that Emma is certain neither Killian not Liam have ever permitted themselves to use off a ship before. When she looks at Elsa she has the same look on her face that she first gave her at her welcoming ball. “I beg your pardon?”

“It’s quite alright,” Elsa turns her head toward the rest of their party and takes a sip of her tea. “I could hardly take my eyes off him for the first three years after we married.”

Emma smiles and resists the urge to point out that time hasn’t changed all that much for Elsa and she is quite certain it won’t for her.

“Why we don’t have children. You never asked.”

Emma’s eyes widen at the non-sequitur and Elsa’s matter-of-fact tone.

“I… I didn’t want to pry.”

She hadn’t, she hadn’t even asked Killian, too aware of how much she hoped Admiral and Mrs Jones would take their time before they start asking themselves and others the same thing about her. That and she had drawn her conclusion and felt nothing but desire to not bestir those waters.

“I never wanted to,” Elsa says in that same tone and Emma blinks at her – once, twice, until Elsa’s perfect blue eyes turn to her.

Once, after a shamefully long and indulgent dinner at their estate and a couple of glasses of cognac each, Liam Jones said that he no longer feels the need to go sailing because he has the ocean all to himself every time he looks at his wife. Killian teased him mercilessly until Emma was forced to bring to attention the fact that he has taken, perfected and elevated his brother’s talent for dropping into casual conversation the sort of lines that must belong on stage.

Elsa smiles gently at her surprise.

“Outrageous, I know. What sort of a woman doesn’t want to raise a child with her husband?”

“No, I…” Emma doesn’t know what she would have said, if Elsa hadn’t continued, it’s hard to imagine not wanting something that you’ve thought you simply won’t be allowed for so long.

“I’m simply a terribly selfish person, Emma.”

“That’s not true.”

Elsa smiles again, much more playful, the kind of smile Emma is used to from her, the kind that tells you you don’t know even as little as you think you do.

“It is. But I don’t mind. I rather like it. Love it. I love my life and my husband. I never wanted to share it or change it and I’ve never felt…”

Emma can’t help but know exactly how she herself would have finished that thought. “Incomplete?”

Elsa is surprised to find her knowing, pleasantly so.

“No. Never.” She looks back at their husbands and the girls and Emma catches the movement of her fingers, playing with her rings. She notices because it looks so out of place in Elsa Jones who is always in perfect repose. “Liam has never tried to convince me. He wanted children, I didn’t, so we weren’t to have any.”

Emma turns to look at Liam Jones who is bent in half, hands on his knees and nose almost brushing Alice’s bow as he watches with narrowed eyes how she pulls back her arrow. She has never thought him an unsatisfied man and she doesn’t now.

“I just wonder sometimes. Why he never asked again,” Elsa says, almost as if to herself.

“Would you change your mind?” Emma asks, equally quiet and utterly unsurprised as Elsa shakes her head. “That’s why.”

Elsa turns to her and gives her a brand new smile, the kind that tells Emma sometimes Elsa doesn’t know everything either and she is glad to be told.

///

Mrs Nolan comes last but she brings Leo and everybody forgets everything else the second he smiles his biggest smile and sticks Killian’s thumb in his mouth.

///

“This is ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Dearest—“

“Granny is in there! Why can’t I—“

“Alice, it’s… I’m sure it’s all overwhelming enough for Emma without the whole household being present.”

Robyn withstands her love’s glare admirably, if she does say so herself. Oh, Alice is sunshine made flesh and she loves her so much but when she is unhappy she rages like the wind whipping the whole world outside.

“I’m not going to overwhelm her. I want to be there! What if…”

Alice’s pacing comes to a sudden halt and Robyn furrows her brows and pushes off the wall outside Captain and Mrs Jones’s room, taking an instinctive step toward her.

“Alice, she’s going to be just fine.”

But Alice looks up at her from under her lashes and chews on her lip and Robyn realizes she doesn’t want anyone to see, let alone hear, her true fears. Robyn opens her mouth to reassure her again when Captain Jones appears at the top of the stairs and heads down the corridor toward them.

The change in Alice is instantaneous – her shoulders straighten and her eyes open and clear and she puts a little sway into her movements as she reaches out and takes her father’s hand.

For his part, Killian looks like he couldn’t compose himself even if he tried but he comes to a stop and kisses his daughter’s temple and smiles at Robyn.

“I’m sorry you have to wait outside but Doctor Hopper said—“

“It’s alright, papa,” Alice cuts him off and some of that sunshine that has kept Robyn warm even during the bitterest winter spills into the windowless corridor. “You go ahead and calls us in when she is here.”

Killian kisses her one more time and squeezes Robyn’s shoulder as he walks into the room. As soon as the door is closed behind him, Alice flushes and averts her eyes.

“Yes, I know I was just complaining about being made to wait but it’s not like he can—“

Robyn’s hand finds the back of her neck and her lips cut off the flow of her self-conscious explanation.

“I love you, Miss Jones.”

///

The youngest Miss Jones comes into the world in a tremendously dramatic fashion – a stormy night of swirling greys and dark blue, thunder and lightning and a wind that screams and screams in tandem with Emma. It’s a fact that will be cited over and over again in the years to come, mostly by Granny but certainly by her parents as well when weary enough and certainly by her sister and Ruby with all the pride in the world.

Days later, when Killian is close to throttling the poor man because Emma still can’t get out of bed on her own, Doctor Hopper will tell him that it was a perfectly normal birth – if a bit longer and a fair bit louder.

Hours later, when Alice rushes into the room and demands a proper introduction, Killian will look down at the baby he has only let go of for minutes at a time so Granny can clean her up and Emma can hold her close and introduce Hope Evelyn Jones and it fits just the way Emma wanted it to. They haven’t talked about a middle name and the way Killian looks at Emma as if he knows she will be pleased makes her as happy as hearing him say it. As happy as Alice’s little sigh of pure love and the way she leans over and presses a kiss to Emma’s temple and tells her that she loves her and makes her cry all over again.

Seconds later, when Doctor Hopper tries to hand their baby to Granny to clean her up, Killian will intercept him and take his daughter in his arms with a movement that guarantees nobody but Emma will ever know he worried about how he will hold her only days ago. It’s one of these moments in life that you know you will never be able to recall perfectly. It would be too much, to hold all that emotion inside you for the rest of time. So Emma doesn’t even try, she doesn’t do anything but watch and bask in the love on her husband’s face and the love that overfills every little place inside her when he places their daughter in her arms – pink and squealing and so so warm.

///

The strangest thing is how calm she is in the weeks after, when she can do little more than feed her baby and herself. Doctor Hopper has sworn on everything Killian could think to make him swear on that she shall recover fully and Emma believes him. She believes him because she never once feels cold.

///

“Are you certain, love?”

“She is a bitter old woman, Killian, not an infamous brigand.”

Killian gives her a look that seems to imply that he doesn’t feel like the gulf between the two is wide enough.

“I’m merely suggesting you reply that her visit will be welcome at a later date,” he says but the inflection on the word “welcome” somehow manages to turn it into its exact opposite. Emma smiles at him and lets her hand run through his hair long enough that Killian sighs in obvious defeat and drops his forehead against her shoulder. “I do not see why we shouldn’t have her wait until you have fully recovered—”

“Because I do not want this visit hanging over my head. I’d much rather have it done and over with. And what is more,” she continues quickly when she feels Killian’s lips part against her skin to most likely explain how it needn’t be done at all. “I do not care to perform for Regina’s pleasure.”

Killian is silent for a moment and she lets the silence prove her sincerity. Emma was surprised herself when she received Regina’s card and realized she did want to see her grandmother one more time. She wants to close that door very firmly, lock it and abandon the key somewhere without even bothering to throw it away. What is more, she feels a queer thrill at the thought of welcoming her now, just like this, still recovering and as far from the perfectly staged lady as she can be without outright impropriety.

“Have it your way, my queen,” Killian sighs eventually. “But the second you want her out—”

“I shall show her out myself,” she bends her head and waits for him to look up so she can press her lips against his. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Always,” he hums and scatters a few kisses over her cheeks and then down her throat – the light, soft kind that he has been giving her for weeks, the kind that she loves with her very soul but also make her skin tingle with an impatient desire for the future.

“I would like you to take the girls away, however. I don’t want her around them.”

Killian breathes out against her collarbone and swipes his thumb over the sharp raise of it before he glances up. “And I do not want to leave you alone.”

Emma huffs a little but decides she could give him that, knows she would like to have him close, just in case, just in case Regina’s presence affects her more than she thinks it will have the power to.

“Alright. You can have Hope, Robyn can take Alice out. Just for an hour. Just—I don’t want her near my daughters.”

His thumb stops, barely pressing into her skin, and Killian looks up at her. Fortunately, by now, Emma has learnt how to meet the steady and deep – bottomless, utterly without end, without corner or condition or caveat – press of Killian’s love. She has become something of an expert at how to welcome it, fold it and hold it and keep it. It feels indulgent and almost blasphemous every time, especially when there is so much happiness and gratitude mixed in with it like now. She takes it gladly.

///

Mrs Lucas bustles up the stairs at a speed that she thought she’d left behind in her years of running after little Miss Alice. She supposes it’s a good thing to check and find that she is still capable of it and the thought of the new miss running through the house before long manages to break a smile on her face even in her current foul mood. But that would be then, this is now and there is nothing but fury propelling Mrs Lucas toward the master bedroom.

When she storms in, Emma looks up at her as if it’s any other day. She is in bed but on top of the covers, a light blanket thrown over her legs and a shawl over her shoulders, her hair is messy, braided only at the very end, the way she does it when she’s had her hands empty for a moment too long. Mrs Lucas feels a rush of fondness coming up her throat so violently she think she is going to belch. It steels her resolve.

“Now, Captain’s saying you know all about this and, what is more, it’s you who talked him into allowing it. But I’ve spent too long around you two and watched you consume too much sugar right before bed to mind too much about what either of you says first time around. So, you tell me now and I’ll take that old wretch by whatever’s left of her hair and drag her out the door myself.”

Emma’s eyes are wide for a second and Mrs Lucas has the strange feeling that now this girl truly knows her. Then the skin around her eyes crinkles and she shakes her head and extends a hand toward her.

Mrs Lucas huffs and keeps away, hands on her hips and her mouth set in a steel line for all of five seconds because this damn house has made her soft as an overkneeded ball of dough. She steps forward and takes Emma’s small hand and bends forward to press her closer against her bosom because no matter how much Emma’s appetite has grown, her hand is still a fragile little thing in Mrs Lucas’s wrinkled palm.

“Let her up,” the silly girl says. “And make that godawful tea you keep at the very back for business meetings Killian wants over as quickly as possible.”

///

After all the fuss, Regina’s presence when she enters the room is rather anti-climatic. Emma hadn’t even considered how the couple of years in which they hadn’t seen each other might have changed her grandmother, and even if she had, she doubts she would’ve imagined this.

Regina’s hair is almost entirely grey now and the rigid and undoubtedly very carefully chosen coiffure cannot quite hide how thin it is in places. Her face is as cold and severe as always and there aren’t that many more wrinkles to tell of the passing of time but it’s her hands that shock Emma. If Regina were truly the evil witch everybody says she is, Emma would think she had cast a spell to gather all of her age in her hands – wrinkled and spotted and claw-like as they clutch her cane. The cane is new, as well, and obviously terribly expensive, black and shiny and looking like a rod for all that is bitter in the world. Emma is glad Regina didn’t have it when she was living under her roof.

“Most women would be out of bed and taking care of their child and household by now.”

Regina’s voice has always been cold but now it sounds like it has turned to icicles in her throat and pains her slightly as she talks. Her opening is the first thing that slots right into place in Emma’s expectations and almost makes her smile sardonically.

“You look well, Regina.” She allows herself this one jab, she does not care to play a game of veiled insults with Regina but this one slips out before she can stop it and, if the look in Regina’s eyes is any indication, it lands right on target. Emma gestures toward the armchair set beside a small table a little way from their bed, not too close.

Regina liked to stand tall and rigid over Emma for most of their life but it seems to cost her too much effort now. Her back stays as straight as possible, her hands spider like and just as restless. This is also new and Emma does not care to observe for too long.

“The child?”

“With her father,” Emma says with a finality that should alert Regina to the likelihood of seeing Hope with her own eyes.

“Your servants could certainly improve on their manners,” she says next and this time Emma does let the corner of her mouth quirk up. “Though I suppose I shouldn’t expect you to run a tight household from your bedchambers.”

“Captain Jones and I find them perfectly suited for us.”

She can see the reply in Regina’s cold and sharp eyes but that is when Granny comes in to bring the tea and display her improvable manners. The look Regina gives her assures Emma that they will be coming back to her household’s shortcomings but she turns in a different direction when the door closes behind the cook.

“Yes, I suppose your husband must be less than concerned with propriety to be taking care of his babe, while his wife lazes around in bed weeks after it is all done.”

Emma has the vague notion that such a comment from Regina should incite things in her but all it does is make her crave the image of Killian with their daughter in his arms, which she is sure to be treated to as soon as Regina leaves.

“Frankly, Emma, I believe you should thank me. I don’t know who else would’ve put up with you.”

She hears the tinge of annoyance, almost desperation, in Regina’s voice and realizes her grandmother is now grasping, scrambling for whatever she came here for. Emma is not certain what it is exactly that she is withholding but she knows full well what it is that Regina doesn’t want to hear.

Well, that’s too bad, isn’t it? Because Regina’s not wrong and for this one thing Emma doesn’t mind admitting it. Emma’s smile is serene and she would think herself benevolent but for the twinkle in her eye that makes Regina’s spider-fingers spasm.

“Thank you, Regina.”

///

She wakes up next to the inferno that is Killian even barefoot and on top of the covers. His left sleeve is rolled up to his elbow, the right one just pushed up, his wedding ring catching the sunlight as he holds his papers in front of him, his glasses hanging precariously on his nose.

Emma pulls herself up and huffs at the way the pages drop to the bed and his hand immediately settles on her arm.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine. Better,” she says pointedly. She is not perfect but she has been better every day, yet every day he fusses just as much as the one before. “Where’s Hope?”

He kisses her sweetly and she pushes his glasses up before they fall on her face, then takes his hand off her arm so she can roll up his right sleeve properly.

“Ruby took her about an hour ago but I’m sure Mrs Lucas has gotten her hands on her by now.”

Emma feels the stretch in her smile at that. When Granny holds their daughter in her arms you can’t tell she can ever be anything but smooth edges and soft places and softer lullabies.

“You should have some breakfast, let me—”

“Can I have it outside?”

Killian’s already on the edge of the bed but he turns back at that – his face a mix of anxious hope and consternation.

“Emma, I don’t think you should be walki—”

“That’s what I have a strong, gallant husband for,” she says and makes sure her smile is enticing and not just plain spoiled as she throws off the blankets and extends her arms in a gesture he has never once been able to refuse.

Killian developed an amazing fascination with carrying her around during her pregnancy, even when there was no need and long after it was probably advisable for his back, the way his face positively melts tells her that their daughter’s birth hasn’t changed anything in that respect.

“That you do, my queen.”

He helps her change into something less prone to blow in the wind than her nightgown and shrugs on his coat directly over his shirt, which Emma decides is definitely a look they should revisit when she can appreciate it properly, and takes her into his arms.

There is nothing quite like being carried in Killian’s arms. It’s not just how safe she is, it’s how precious it makes her feel. The thought never fails to make her blush and she promptly buries that blush in Killian’s neck.

After months of this, they navigate doors and corridors and stairs with barely a thoughts and she is being lower on the swing in the garden before anyone has probably even noticed they’re outside. Killian disappears through the back door of the kitchen, much to her displeasure, because he claims food is more beneficial to her than being able to lie in his lap. Emma disagrees but she is more than willing to have both.

They stay out long enough for her to track the movement of the sun, long enough for Granny to find them and roll her eyes at them in a way that Emma knows means she likes what she sees.

“The little miss is hungry,” she says with all the reluctance of someone who would give anything to not have to let go of the baby in her arms.

Emma grins as Killian wraps his arm around the entirety of her waist and helps her to sit up and lean against him. Confined to bed as she has been, she is more than aware of the tug of war in the house and how anyone who manages to get Hope in their arms will keep her there until they have no other choice. She has seen Ruby folding the bedsheets in their room one-handed and Killian somehow juggling baby, ledger, pen and inkwell with only two spillages as a result.

So, Emma feels rather smug in her privilege. They can hoard her baby all they want, eventually they all have to hand her over to be fed, and as Granny settles Hope in her arms and Emma feels the warm weight and the sweet smell of her, she really can’t begrudge them the hoarding.

However, she can and does begrudge Killian the speed with which he steals their daughter’s attention with barely a finger pressed to her pink little nose.

“Killian, my breasts are bared to the whole world,” she huffs, even though there is no one else around.

“I know,” she doesn’t even need to see the grin on his face. “I’m paying rapt attention, love.”

“You are distracting her.” She tries to be stern but it is so very difficult when she is practically molded to his side and he is making Hope smile her big toothless smile and making the most embarrassingly endearing sounds next to her ear.

“Am I, princess? Am I distracting you? Are you not giving mummy’s luscious breasts the attention they deserve?”

“Killian!” And she is scandalized and indignant, she really is, but she is also laughing so loud her sides ache a little.

///

Killian combs Emma’s hair back and watches his daughter’s blissful face as she feeds. His hand stays, stroking and scratching lightly, running his long fingers carefully through the tangled strands even though no pin has come anywhere near her hair in weeks, maybe months, and he raises his left forearm to Hope’s back, the whisper-soft hairs at the back of her neck brushing against the hard skin at the end of his wrist. He can’t feel that but he feels the way Emma drops her head back, closing her eyes and entrusting them both entirely to his arms and he presses his smile against the crown of her head.

///

Mary Margaret declares herself utterly enamored the second Hope spits on her shoulder. It takes another hour, during which Mrs Nolan wastes no time in adopting the habits of the household and refuses to let anyone else hold the happily gurgling baby in her arms, for her to come up with the idea that nothing will be better than a match between Leo Nolan and Hope Evelyn Jones.

Emma watches Killian and Mary Margaret haggle over the advantages and disadvantages of this only slightly premature plan and cannot help but wonder if Killian is so scandalized because “she was literally just born” or because he didn’t think of the match himself.

///

Emma is just pouring out the cocoa when she hears the door open behind her. She glances over her shoulder, surprised at the sight of Robyn – not at seeing her there but rather at the rumpled state of her, the sweet, almost child-like way she is rubbing her eyes and the braid that’s keeping less strands in place than letting them fly around. Alice and Emma and even Killian, but never Robyn – she cannot remember ever seeing Robyn on the verge of sleep.

“I could hear Granny grumbling all the way down the hall,” the young woman teases and Emma just rolls her eyes.

“Don’t worry. Killian and I have decided that we shall be introducing Hope to hot cocoa as soon as we can. Just wait and see how quickly Granny decides sugar before bed is the most precious idea in the world.” She offers Robyn a cup but the girl just shakes her head – she doesn’t have Alice or Killian’s sweet tooth and she does look like she is just about to lie down and go to sleep on the kitchen floor. She also looks very, very amused and a little impressed.

“You guys are ruthless.”

“Are the rest still awake?”

“Not for the last hour,” Robyn says and Emma laughs and picks up her tray.

“Are you coming?” She asks at the door but Robyn shakes her head and yawns, her impeccable timing making Emma laugh again as she heads into the corridor. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Emma. Please direct her upstairs when she wakes.”

Emma smiles as she nears Killian’s study and pushes the door slowly, in no rush to wake Alice or anyone else just yet.

She is less used to seeing them here, in this smaller, darker room that is more Killian than anyone else. That must be why her breath backs up into her throat and the mugs rattle on her tray as she looks at Killian behind his desk. His chair is pushed back, almost all the way to the window, his hair is very dark and the silver streaks in it seem to catch all the moonlight outside, his spectacles reflect the fire at the other end of the room, his left forearm is bare and wrapped securely around one dozing daughter while the smaller one is sleeping soundly in his right elbow, pressed close to his rest. Alice must have been holding the book he was reading but it’s now lying face down in her lap, precariously close to toppling to the ground.

It’s a lot for one chair and Killian looks like he has never been more comfortable in his life. When he dips his chin and looks at her over the tops of his glasses Emma feels his contentment travel down her own spine. She sets the tray on the desk and is just wondering if she can lay down on the settee and go to sleep just staring at them, when Alice grumbles and snorts sharply and jerks a little, book finally falling to the floor. Emma bends to pick it up and snorts, giving her husband a pointed look.

“Aren’t pirate stories a bit on the nose for a naval captain?”

“A good pirate story cannot be resisted,” Killian and Alice say at the same time and Emma sits on the floor with the book because… well, she is a little overwhelmed with how much she loves them is all.

Alice laughs sleepily, stretches and kisses her father’s cheek, then promptly steals the baby in his arms. She ignores Killian’s grumbling completely but stops by Emma to allow her a kiss goodnight.

“We’ll be up in a moment.”

“No, you won’t.” Alice grins before losing interest in them completely and bending her head over Hope as she whisks her away, telling her all about how their parents eat too much sugar and go to bed too late.

Emma shakes her head and looks at Killian.

“We need to be careful or—“ The words die in her throat as she is confronted with the very incriminating scene of Killian with his eyes closed in bliss and his nose buried in one of the mugs she brought. It would be easier to get the sun back in the sky than to stop her gentle laughter.

Killian looks at her and pushes his bottom lip forward, a trace of chocolate smeared on the inside of it.

“What? I have been left cold and bereft.”

“Oh?” Emma raised her eyebrows and takes her laughter down to a simmering smile as she gets to her feet and sways toward him. “Do you need me to warm you?”

If there was ever a double entendre, this should be it and yet. She settles against him with her legs swung over the arm of his chair and her head nestled perfectly innocently in the crook of his neck, feeling the spaces where the girls were and where the cold must have rushed in upon their departure. It gives her more pleasure than straddling his thighs would have – to warm him. So, Emma gratefully takes the second mug Killian offers her and relaxes completely, feeling the lift and fall of her husband’s every breath against her.

“Emma?”

“Hmm?”

She watches him place his mug on the desk and his hand settles on her knee, drawing little circles over it with his ring finger.

“Do you want to get married again?” he asks and continues on when she doesn’t immediately answer. “We can do it properly, invite Mr and Mrs Nolan and Nemo and Belle, the girls will be there and— or it can be just them. Just them and us, in the garden again or anywhere you like. Somewhere by the sea perhaps or—“

She has been surveying his study – the book still on the ground, the baby blanket Granny made for Hope on the settee and the ribbon Alice must have left on the mantle, the island drawing hanging over their heads, the mugs of cocoa on his desk – and now she twists around to kiss him and goes on kissing him and kissing him.

She can hardly remember the last time they kissed like this – long but chase, with nowhere else to go, nothing more to do. It reminds her of the first time she kissed him, she wonders if it reminds him of that night too because his lips keep twitching under hers.

“Do you always smile so much when you kiss a woman, captain?”

He pulls half a breath away from her and keeps smiling.

“It would appear I do.”

“I don’t want another wedding, my heart.”

“No?”

She watches his face carefully but he doesn’t look disappointed, he doesn’t look like he is missing a single thing in the world. She remembers coming into this room minutes ago and knows it’s because he isn’t. She shakes her head.

“No. I never wanted to marry you,” she lets her own lips tick up and takes his hand in hers, their rings clicking together as she leans forward again so her lips brush his as she speaks. “I just wanted to be your wife.”

*******

If you really enjoyed this monster of a fic, I have one of those Ko-fi things. I will also be crying over having finally completed it for the next week so come join me whenever.

Taglist: @unworried-corsair @laschatzi @darkcolinodonorgasm @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke @preciousmarshmallows @idristardis @bmbbcs4evr @captainsjedi @wyntereyez @winterbaby89 @andiirivera @quirkykayleetam @kingofmyheart14 @killianjones4ever82 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @jackieorioncat @yasbio2015 @emmas-storybook @nikkiemms @postcards-and-postagestamps @lawgeeks @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian @snotelek @mayquita @profdanglaisstuff @courtorderedcake @shireness-says

For more:  MY BOOK ||  MY BLOG ||  MY FANFICS ||

[thesimonkshow]

My thoughts on Folklore

This is about to be a long ass Taylor Swift post, so strap in for the ride.

I along with many others were going about their business (looking at Adam Driver gifs) before my phone alerted me to the notification that Taylor Swift was releasing her eighth studio album Folklore the very next day. Chaos everywhere, my sleep schedule went out the window as I went into the Swifties tag to see how everyone else was dealing with this news. So I eagerly awaited 2PM (Australian time) for the album to drop and after a few listens (sleep got the better of me through my first listen due to my previous sleep schedule), I eventually picked out some album highlights.

The 1 - I love how freely she’s cussing on the album (a point that will be reitriated throughout), and I know Gossip tabloids and casuals will be shooketh because they’d think Taylor & Mr. Alwyn have ‘broken up’ due to Taylor’s personable lyrics but this gave me Better Man vibes. Remember when the Bridge said ‘You might have bern The One if you were a Better Man’ and this is basically that without the angsty fire.

Cardigan - I LOVE how Alternative Folk fits Taylor’s voice, it sounds like she’s telling us a story and we are entrapsed by her. It also works perfectly with the love triangle songs, which I had to understand a bit through a few listens.

The Last Great American Dynasty - The moment I saw this track, I knew it would be epic. I pictured her taking the piss out of the Trump family, but what I got was an awesome song about the woman who owned Taylor’s Rhode Island house and the antics she got up to. I love the descriptors she used when describing the weddings and the party’s Rebekah & Bill had and especially the bridge of antics Rebekah got up to later in her time. The ‘And then it was bought by me.’ Part of the bridge, I love a good twist!

Exile - OH MY LORD. When I saw Skinny Love Bon Iver on this album, I knew this would be something and low and behold it was. The concept of the man in exile in her intro caught my attention but seeing it up close and personal was amazing. The vocals interlaced with each other was perfection, especially as Taylor responds to Bon Iver. I really connected it to the struggles of Seth Rollins in the latter half of 2019, how he seemed to be exiled from the WWE, how his initial opponent Kevin Owens was having his flaws disregarded to drag Seth down, the ‘Always Keep Fighting’ shirt that he wore (raising money for mental health chairties) adding insult to injury for Seth, who had even briefly deactivated his twitter to clear his headspace following attacks/death threats from a fellow wrestler’s fan base. ‘I gave you every sign’ rings true here, the man was struggling and no one seemed to care.

My Tears Ricochet - My WWE ass was happy to see another Wrestler reference after The Man. So this was an interesting look, but I got another story that intrigued me, a man having been involved in a tumultous connection with the songs narrator showing up to her funeral to save face. Listeners drew parraells with the recent Masters drbarkle with Scott Borchetta, head of Big Machine Records with whom Taylor was once signed to, and I have to say it’s a good perspective to take.

Mirrorball - This one took a while but I ended up loving the fact she could sing from a Mirrorball’s perspective and still make an epic song. I loved the part about always fitting in with the crowd because at functions/discos where mirrorballs are used, the lights will change to fit the mood and being a reflective surface, Mirrorballs will reflect the colour change.

Seven - This was a nice ditty about a past friend Taylor once had. I really loved the line ‘Please picture me in the weeds before I learned Civility’ it gives a more sophisticated parraell to Never Grow Up.

August - This is the second in the love triangle songs, and I loved the storytelling aspect as Taylor paints the picture of an affair that Summer Nights would quake in it’s boots if it heard about it. She sweeps up the adience in the Mistresses POV, showcasing the sweetness of love and the sting of toxcisity.

This is me trying - Where are those who said Taylor Swift plays the victim in her songs? Because this is for them. Taylor states in this her regrets of wasted potential, broken relationships etc. at the end of the day no matter how many awards she has, records she breaks, or money she possesses, Taylor Alison Swift is a human being, and we should give her boundries to grow and flourish.

Illicit Affairs - This track title also intrigued me, and whilst it does what the title says, and discusses the highs and lows of the secret passions of mismatched lovers, the second verse & bridge stood out to me the most. The way Taylor’s voice went up on him in the line ‘Leave the perfume on the shelf that you picked out just for him.’ Drew my attention as she later did the same thing on the word high, this had to mean something. And given that we don’t know the narrators gender, this could also be a song about a closeted gay man who’s found love but is struggling to accept this relationship. Whereas the bridge reminded me a lot of the Adam & Hannah breakup in Season 4 of Girls in the episode Sit In where Hannah denounces Adam’s nickname of kid, which he had called her by since the first season, with the episode before that showing her heartbroken that Adam has gotten a new girlfriend behind her back and thus turns into a mess locked in her apartment for a day and two nights. it was a heartbreaking part of the show, one that shifted it into a new era for better or for worse, and the entirety of this reasonated with me.

Invisible String - Around this point was where melotonin kicked in for me on my first listen, so I’ve heard this less than the other songs, but I love how it discusses her relationship with Joe & how for better or for worse, he is hers. It continued the theme with them on Lover of not having a great picturesque love, but having ups and downs like any couple.

Mad Woman - The calmer sister of The Man, she won’t throw big production and actions around, she can take you down with words alone. The track stings brutally as Taylor takes down sexism as it exists in our world today, and even sadly paints a visual of how it must have been for women back in the day fighting for equal rights. ‘Does a scorpion sting when fighging back?’ Line was annother connection, as I was reminded of Vanessa Ives from Penny Dreadful and how the animal symbology that stuck with her was a scorpion, used to great effect in the Season 2 finale in a confrontation with Lucifer’s makeshift doll of her. The chorus line ‘And you’ll poke the bear till her claws come out, and you’ll find something to wrap your noose around’ stuck with me on my listens, and really shows how men will strike and then run away saying ‘it’s a joke, she’s hysterical’ etc. the part about women loving to hunt witches also reminded me of a Doctor Who episode called ‘The Witchers’ and also reminded some listeners of how Demi Lovato took Scooter Braun’s side in the Licencing debarkle, in fact in the first part of the bridge, the song also has a double meaning. It’s also about the state of affairs following Taylor’s songs being stolen from her. The part in the bridge about the wives knowing about their Spinster husbands having affairs and not wanting to show their anger for fear of being outcast like the titular woman is angsty but so lyrically genius.

Epiphany - I had to listen to this a couple of times but once I realised what it was about, I was in shock. This is about her Grandfather Dean who she mentioned in the intro who fought in a war. The song paints the war setting with the helmet, the flesh wound and the rifle within the first few words, and I especially loved the line ‘And some things we don’t speak of.’ because it talked about how some soldiers develop PTSD from their experiences, yet don’t want to discuss them for fear of being perceived as weak. Also the outro beat sounds like a radar scanning for a plane, and the beat of the drum sounds like bombs exploding, really adds to the War theme.

Betty - This is the final track in the love triangle story as it tells the story of James as he fights to earn back Betty’s love after he has an affair with Inez. The eventual pitfalls of Illicit Affairs have come for Inez which causes her to tell Betty of their affair, which is a nice link. This songs gives a classic Greese/Christine/Cheesy 80s Film meets Trixie Mattel vibe which I loved. I also loved the callbacks to August & Cardigan, along with the casual F bomb droppings.

Peace - This is another sweet love song for Joe which calls back to Cruel Summer, Cornelia Street & Dancing With Our Hands Tied as Taylor struggles with the connection she has established with Joe, and contemplates escaping, but eventually knows she’ll stay. How the entire world will be on them, but she’ll be by his side through it all. Similar to Invisible String but different all at once and a perfect penultimate track to lead to the last song.

Hoax - The sweetness brings us to the double edged sword of a closing track. Giving a shattering realisation that love can be tricky at times, the references to Call It What You Want ‘I am ash from your fire’, The Archer ‘You know the hero died so what’s the movie for?’ & ... So It Goes ‘You knew you won so what’s the point of keeping score’. Taylor loves Joe so much that when they fight it’s as painful as when she became Pop Culture Enemy #1 back in 2016. But no matter what, she says herself ‘Don’t want no other shade of blue but you. No other sadness in this world would do’ relationships are always painful, there is no happy endings all round, but there is still love to be found.

All in all this is an incredible album & @taylorswift you have created magic and I hope you know that myself & all the Swifties are so proud of you for flexing your writing skill and crafting such a stunning album.

[365days365movies]

March 16, 2021: Legend (1985) (Part Two)

Tom Cruise is terrible in this movie. Spoiler alert.

It’s not like I can claim that Cruise is one of my favorite actors working today, since he’s been in some real stinkers. But, like...he definitely got better over the years, seriously. Dude was not amazing in Top Gun, but he was WAAAAAY better than this performance.

All I know is that the dude...the dude’s been better, that’s all I’m saying. So has Mia Sara, while we’re at it. I mean, I didn’t even realize until looking her up that she was in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off! And here, she’s...whoof, OK? Also not her best role, is all I’m saying...again.

And Tim Curry...is another story entirely, holy shit. But I’ll get to him more later. The only other thing I want to say before going on is...goddamn, this movie is good looking. I’m not one of those “practical effects are better than CGI garbage” people, but GODDAMN, these are good makeup effects! Who did them, anyway? Rob Bottin? OH SHIT THIS GUY?

The makeup artist from fucking The Thing did the effects for this movie? HOLY FUCK! Dude also did RoboCop and Total Recall, so no wonder this film looks fantastic! Dude’s a Legend, dir. Ridley Scott.

Speaking of, let’s get back to it, huh? I’ll have more to say in the Review later, for sure. First part of the Recap is right here!

Recap (2/2)

As our little band escapes from the prison, they split up, with Jack, Gump, and Oona on one team, and Screwball and Tom on the other. Meanwhile, in his private throne room, Darkness speaks with his Father this time, whoever that is. He notes that he’s so close to making this world his own...but damn, that Lily girl is HAWT.

And unlike his mother, Darkness’ Father responds, nothing that she’s attractive to Darkness because she is so pure. Darkness must woo her, and corrupt her to the darkside. And somewhere, as Darkness speaks romantic words about Lily, a Goth baby is born, and a Goth fairy gets her vanta black wings. Yeah, Goth fairies are born from Tim Curry’s voice; that’s just biology, really.

Oona finds her way to the chamber where Lily is, and peers into it as Lily peers likewise into the fireplace there. Meanwhile, Jack and Gump are still searching, only to be set upon by...I don’t know goblin-witch-things? The mythology here isn’t very clear, gonna be honest. They run off, which Screwball and Tom find their way to the chamber where the Unicorn is.

Meanwhile, Lily ain’t doin’ too hot, and she’s lured in by, to be honest, shiny things. Yeah, she’s hanging out by the fire as Darkness’ father whispers to Darkness that she must be seduced. She’s distracted by pearls and diamonds, and finds a beautiful diamond necklace, which entices her. This is where I put a “women, amirite” joke, right?

Well, at that moment, a cherub statue on the piano comes to life, as does an onyx gown, which dances in front of her. And I gotta say, the effect is enticing, both to me and to Lily. Lily can’t resist dancing with the empty gown, and then becomes one with it, and, well...it’s a nice aesthetic.

But just as this outfit is revealed...so is somebody else.

GODDAMN. That is a gorgeous fucking creature, and I TOTALLY GET IT PEOPLE. The GF is only semi-watching, and she and I agree that if the actual Devil was that hot, there would be WAY more Satanists in the world. And here’s the thing, I’d love to put a billion GIFs here...but it can’t capture this performance accurately without a video, because GODDAMN THIS IS A GOOD PERFORMANCE

And to be clear, this isn’t the best movie. It’s actually pretty goddamn bad to be honest, but it’s SAVED ENTIRELY BY TIM CURRY I ONCE AGAIN CANNOT STRESS THAT SHIT ENOUGH

But we have to cut away from the best performance in the film (I guess), and we rejoin Jack’s group, who have also watched this performance through the door. Jack almost goes in, but Gump’s like, “Nah, dude, he is WAY too hot, you don’t have a goddamn CHANCE”, and they overhear Darkness say that his weakness is daylight. Jack and co. reconvene with Screwball and Tom to enact a plan. They rescue Blunder, who was almost cooked, then they fight and kill a few ogres and steal some giant metal pans.

Meanwhile, Darkness invites Lily to sit and talk with him. And again, GODDAMN IT I GET IT. He’s literally the ultimate bad boy, AND he’s a fucking romantic? Man, I swear that I’m straight, but FUCK ME I DO UNDERSTAND. After more wooing and sweet nothing, he offers her a rose, which makes me wonder why the fuck NOBODY’S tried this move on The Bachelorette! Just rolling up in a full Darkness costume, giving his various limes? That’d work on somebody, I know it would.

Lily’s constant defiance of his will enrages him, but she does agree to marry him, IF she’s allowed to kill the Unicorn herself. And that excites Darkness so much that there is NO WAY he doesn’t need to change his pants. Gross, I know, but I swear that I just saw him climax at that suggestion, seriously. Blame Tim Curry, not me!

As the ceremony is set to begin, and as the sun rises above the forest, Jack’s group uses the plates to set up a classic mirror trick, and uses them to reflect light from the outside directly onto Darkness. As they’re enacting this plan, Darkness is all set up to sacrifice the Unicorn, with Lily’s help. Or so he thinks.

Darkness is all set to extinguish light forever, and tells Lily to make the final killing blow. She seems set to do it, and Gump tells Jack to kill her. Instead, he fires the arrow at Darkness, and Lily frees the Unicorn, which runs away. Darkness, enraged, knocks Lily out, and when Jack goes after him, he also kicks his ass quickly. Even with Gump’s assistance from above, Jack is obviously completely screwed. 

It’s even worse, because Screwball passed out in trying to set up one of the plates for the reflection. But Oona comes to wake him up, and they set up the last plate just as Darkness is REALLY kicking Jack’s ass. Jack grabs the Alicorn at the last second, and uses it to stab Darkness, just as the light of day hits him. He calls out to his father for protection, but to no avail, as the light begins to destroy him.

But he points out something important: there is no light without dark, and he can never truly be defeated as a result. And then...yeah, uh, Jack just defeats him. Literally, he gets swallowed into the eternity of space somehow. Fuckin’...I dunno.

Gump tells Jack that, to revive Lily, he must fulfill his promise to...get her ring back. Um. Sure? As he does that, Gump takes the Alicorn and returns it to the dead Unicorn, bringing it back to life as the sun rises. And the Unicorns reunite at the same time that Jack and Lily reunite in love. And it’s...kinda gross? Like, goddamn, I’ve heard of happy endings, but this is RIDICULOUS.

As the denizens of the forest and the Unicorns wave goodbye to the lovers as they run away together, though, we also see Darkness one last time, laughing. I mean, yeah, no light without dark. They way they choose to edit it is a little weird, but whatever.

And that was The Last Unicorn! I mean...that was Legend! And, uh...yeah, see you in the Review, because I really only have one universally good thing to say about this movie. You know what/who it is.